Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 142: what you’re looking at

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

140 around his neck by a leather thong. Then he gave his orders. “Bo Diare, lead the men down-stream to the captain’s camp. When Famba calls out, shoot. But not at the white man. Leave him to me. When the soldiers come into the bush after you, go back slowly. Don’t risk losing any men.”’ ‘“‘What you go do?” Bo Diare asked. “Famba and I will swim down.” “There be crocodile!’ the corporal warned. “T hear a lot about them. But I never saw any one hurt.” “But I see——” “Never mind, Bo Diare. Doasyou’re told.” Bo Diare mumbled. “What about you, Famba; are you afraid of crocodile?”’ “Yassah.” “Then Pll go alone.” “You go, I go,”’ Famba said. “Tt’s dark enough now,” Peller said. “You can start, Bo Diare.”’ The Ouolof looked at the white man, shook his head in dismay, but left imme- diately. Famba had given his rifle and pack to one of his comrades. The corpo- ral had taken Peller’s. Peller handed Famba his revolver. “Can you hold this above water?” he asked. “Yassah.” “Then let’s go.” And he led the way into the Ubangi. The water was lukewarm and not un- pleasant. Peller swam ahead, keeping fairly near shore. Whether it is true, as some claim, that crocodiles do not attack living men, whether luck served Peller, or whether the saurians who usually in- habited that section of the Ubangi were occupied elsewhere—at any rate, the swim was without accident. The Frenchman was well-aware that he took a great risk, but the element of surprize was needed, and this the only way in which he could ac- complish his end. Hours seemed to go by before the two swimmers reached the edge of the sand- bank, close to Carlotti’s camp. Peller put on the sandals, and took his revolver. “Call out,” he ordered. Famba gave the cry of a night-bird, as agreed upon by Diare and himself. A pause. Then Famba called again. But one man was awake in the Italian’s Adventure camp, a sentry, who squatted in the center of the sleeping men, a rifle in his hands. At the first shot, he sank, a victim of Bo Diare’s accurate aim. More shots, and the camp was astir. The bewildered men hesitated. Carlotti’s voice could be heard, directing them into the bush. The moment of danger found the soldiers looking to him for orders. The canoemen and bearers, who knew they were not supposed to take part in the action, crouched on the sand. The armed men disappeared into the bush, answering the tirailleurs’ fusillade as they went. Carlotti remained by the fires, standing fearlessly, although he did not know that he was in no danger. Peller found time to admire his courage. But not for long. He stepped forward into the circle of light. The bearers and paddlers saw him, but did not cry out, struck speechless by the sudden appearance of a naked white man. Carlotti stood with his back to the sergeant, looking into the bush. Peller, at his elbow, with his revolver ready, spoke— “Sorry, captain.” Carlotti started violently, and turned. He smiled. “Well done,” he said, and dropped his pistol, casually reaching down for his shirt and tunic. “Call your men back,” Peller ordered. Carlotti drew his whistle and obeyed. Bo Diare and his men ceased firing, but remained in hiding. “Get your men off, canoe by canoe. You can take all your stuff, but leave my rifles,” Peller went on. Carlotti gave orders. The first canoe was launched, then the others, until there remained only the last. “You may go, captain,” Peller cen- cluded. “Straight across to the other side. But remember that you are covered, by rifles as well as my revolver.” Carlotti walked toward the canoe, which was already manned. Before getting in, he turned. ‘Well done,” he repeated. The paddlers pushed the craft free. Peller looked at the bundles containing the rifles. “Now, to explain all this,’’ he thought. Firing broke out from the Belgian shore. Shouted conversation came brokenly across the water. Carlotti was discussing his surrender. COmiCLOOokkS.CGO©