Adventure Magazine Cover — page 44: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

38 “Yes, they are not such bad psycholo- gists. Roughly speaking, these witch-doc- tors know human weaknesses and play them for all they’re worth. That’s their trade after all.”’ “Plenty of white witch-doctors, too, who make a good living!’ added Constable with a laugh. “You bet,” assented the doctor, grinning, “otherwise most politicians would be out of a job, what? Well, after I got that magic going they left me alone, gave me permis- sion to go where I liked through the country and all that sort of thing, you know. But I daren’t begin any real attempt to rescue you until Mangu ef al. had gone home. “They might be nice to me with what they thought was your shirt-tail in my hands, Connie, but I didn’t think they’d stand for monkeying with their gods, what? Well, after that all I could do was to sit tight and wait my chance.. “IT think Mangu got jolly wild over the charm business, for it deprived him of an extra god; but he couldn’t get over the au- thenticity, as it were, of the sacred relic. Finally he got peeved and went home cuss- ing. Then my local friend became more friendly and I found out where you were. *‘A few days ago most of the village went on a hunting-raiding expedition and I seized my chance. That’s all.” 74 ‘THE three white men sat for a while <q in silence, staring at the glowing end -——"# of a log, occasionally throwing a handful of twigs upon the coals to keep them alight. The air was sharp and cold, and the vastness of the African night seemed to press them closer to the blaze. The orange glow, lighting up their faces, betrayed three curiously different ex- pressions. Dorsay, though smug and content with having passed through an experience that would keep the home folks thrilled for years to come, looked like a happy tramp, with his stubby growth of beard, and an old, weather-beaten pipe stuck between his sun- cracked lips. Constable, with gray patriarchal beard spread over his broad, bony chest, was dreaming terrible dreams. His sunken eyes seemed to look back with increasing horror on the years he had spent in the frightful pit. Only the little doctor was alert.., His small eyes twinkled restlessly, darting Adventure = frequently at the haggard countenance of his old friend. “Constable,” he said abruptly, “why didn’t you try to get out?” “Get out?” broke in Dorsay. “It was impossible!” “Impossible,” Constable echoed dully, not having quite grasped the significance of the doctor’s words. ‘“That’s rot,” insisted the doctor im- patiently. ‘‘There were lots of ways— ladder of ivory—make a bit of string to guide you through the tunnel “Oh, oh, I see!’ exclaimed Constable sharply as his reawakened brain grasped the query. Then in a puzzled tone: “But I did. You must have seen. I was always planning something.” His face became animated, and his eyes sparkled. “As soon as I fully realized they had me imprisoned—for life—I set to work to get out. I made tools with my belt-buckle and the nails from my shoes—and I built a ladder of ivory, with the longest, heaviest tusks at the base. It took me over a year; but I did it, and half the time my hands were so raw I could suck the blood from them. “I spent a full week shifting my ladder into position. When I reached the top— it was shaky and flimsy as straw—my hand came about four feet from the rim of the pit. Of course, I should have gone down again and worked some more. But I'd used up my last scrap of metal. I was desperate. So near the top— I must have gone a bit crazy to be free. I jumped for it. “The added pressure of that spring snapped the ivory under me. I went crashing all the way down to the bottom. I broke some bones and lost a lot of blood— and must have lain there for two or three days fs “Didn’t the niggers ever know?” ex- claimed Dorsay. “No. They never looked down. Afraid of accidents, I suppose. Afterward I made a shelter of the i ivory.’ The Englishman paused, and drew a shaking hand slowly across his forehead. “Next thing I did,” he continued with a rush, ‘was to try to explore the cave systematically. I saved the fat from the, goats’ meat and made a candle with a wick Go VOOKS ANC (C@)