For the man, just as he relapsed into unconsciousness, murmured four words: "Help—me debbil man!"
"Are you sure, Schoverling, that there is anything beyond this? It to me seems not much like elephant country."
"I'm taking a chance, Doctor," returned the dust-caked explorer. "This desert is bound to loosen up sometime, and there is surely elephant country ahead. Give us another week; then if we strike nothing I'll head around toward Lake Rudolph and the mountains."
The other nodded, and said no more. Charlie and Jack had also grown weary of the desolate surroundings, but no complaint had come from the Masai. Two days later one of the oxen died, and on the third day another, from unexplained causes. Then, on the fifth morning, a yell of delight went up from all at sight of green trees ahead.
"It's a drift," exclaimed Charlie, examining the slender line of trees as they pushed their horses on.
"What's that under those big mimosas?" called Jack. "Looks like a native hut."
"Right you are, Jack!" cried the explorer. "Come on Guru!"
They advanced at a gallop, leaving the wagons far behind. Half an hour later they came to the drift—a wide, rocky little valley through which trickled a tiny stream of water. No sign of natives appeared, however, until their horses had watered and they clambered over the stones on foot toward the single hut beneath the mimosas. Then, as Jack shouted aloud, a man appeared in the doorway, crawling toward them on hands and knees.
"The poor devil's all in," exclaimed Schoverling. "Careful, boys! He may have the plague."
"Let me go first," said the German quietly. They could see that the man, who seemed to be an Arab, was frightfully emaciated. His head was bound up, and half-healed thorn-scars covered his body. Von Hofe beckoned them to come on, as he knelt beside the poor wretch, but as the boys came to his side a startled exclamation broke from them.