"
"Anything else?" Trent asked roughly.
The officer looked his man up and down.
"We're in a pretty rough country," he said, "and a man gets into
the habit of having his own way here. But listen to me! If
anything happens to your partner here or in Buckomari, you'll have
me to reckon with. I shall not forget. We are bound to meet!
Remember that!"
Trent turned his back upon him in a fit of passion which choked
down all speech. Captain Francis lit a cigarette and walked across
towards his camp.
CHAPTER VI
A sky like flame, and an atmosphere of sulphur. No breath of air,
not a single ruffle in the great, drooping leaves of the African
trees and dense, prickly shrubs. All around the dank, nauseous
odour of poison flowers, the ceaseless dripping of poisonous
moisture. From the face of the man who stood erect, unvanquished
as yet in the struggle for life, the fierce sweat poured like rain
- his older companion had sunk to the ground and the spasms of an
ugly death were twitching at his whitening lips.
"I'm done, Trent," he gasped faintly. "Fight your way on alone.
You've a chance yet. The way's getting a bit easier - I fancy we're
on the right track and we've given those black devils the slip!
Nurse your strength! You've a chance! Let me be.
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