“Then you will write the book?” cried Clare, her eyes sparkling. “Oh yes; when you begin by quarrelling with the title you are bound to write the book.”
“I don't consider myself in the least compromised in the matter,” said he. “One may surely object to a title without being forced to write the book. The fact is that, since I started for the Zambesi, the public taste has been revolutionised by dry plates. An explorer without a camera is, In the eyes of the public, like—now, what is he like?—a mouse-trap without a bait—a bell without its hammer. Now I did not travel with a camera. My long journey alone through the forests was made with only the smallest amount of personal luggage. All I was able to carry with me will not make an imposing list. Item—one knife; item—one native bow and six poisoned arrows; item—six seeds of the linen plant.”
“What, you succeeded in bringing home the seeds of that wonderful plant?”
“I made up my mind to accomplish that at all hazards. The seeds are a good deal less interesting to look at than the native weapons. I have got a glass case made for the arrows. They are not the things that should be left lying about.”
“I have heard of poisoned arrows. Terrible, are they not? And the poison is still in those you have?”
“It is the deadliest poison on earth; and its effect remains even in the ashes of the iron-weed which forms the barb of the arrow. The slightest scratch with the point of the weapon is fatal.”
Clare listened breathlessly. It was in a low voice that she asked:
“How many of these arrows had you when you contrived to escape?”
“I had sixteen,” he replied. “I can account satisfactorily for the ten that are not forthcoming. I got to be a fairly good hand with the bow and arrows before I had been in captivity for more than a year. I saw that my only chance of successfully escaping lay in my acquiring a thorough knowledge of the native weapons. I made a collection of arrows which I secreted at intervals, but when I thought my chance had arrived. I only recovered the sixteen I have told you about. I saved my life ten times with arrows and nine times with my knife.”
“That will be your book,” said Clare; “how you used those ten arrows will be your book. It must be called 'The Arrows and the Knife.'”