Thus, with the prospect of treachery on one side, the partnership with Rideau began; but the new carriers were sturdy men, and the gold-washing was carried on with characteristic energy, alike under the burning sun of noon and by the glare of great fires until long into the steamy night. Dane labored with his own hands among his Krooboys, stripped to the waist. Maxwell seconded him loyally, for he had now relinquished the leader's place; and by degrees the pair drilled their dusky subordinates into capable workmen. It is true that they usually suspended operations the moment the white men relaxed their vigilance; but that was only to be expected, and their masters got a good deal out of them considering that most negroes have a chronic distaste for manual labor. Rideau's detachment, Dane noticed, were the most amenable to discipline, and obeyed all orders with a submission which puzzled the observer, for he knew that meek obedience is not a characteristic of the seaboard African. Their master, who did little beyond expressing his approval of Danes' efforts, grew more cordial as the weeks went by. But Maxwell was civil, and nothing more; and Dane surmised that he was rather more watchful and suspicious than he had been before.
One night when, worn out by physical exertion and aching in every joint, they dragged themselves, dripping with river water, back to their tent, there was a covert sneer in Rideau's laugh as he addressed them:
"You English are a curious people, and there are those who call you mad. The more tired and dirty you are, the more happy. I once see your naval officer on the Niger harness with the indigene, like the mule, to drag the wheel-gun through a robber headman's swamp. One drôle, he tell me it was the glorious fun."
"I dare say he meant it," retorted Maxwell. "It is probably owing to that very form of insanity that, while you—the French, I mean—have with commendable foresight appropriated the best of Africa, we others remain at least its commercial masters."
The pause and apparent correction was not made by accident, and Dane fancied that Rideau grasped its significance. He retired shortly, and Maxwell looked thoughtful.
"I am afraid I was not judicious; but we are only human, and there are times when my dislike for that rascal almost masters me," he said. "I would give much to learn who it is that slinks into his camp at night."
Dane looked puzzled, for Rideau's camp lay across the river, and was watched by black sentries; no negro was permitted on any excuse to pass its boundaries.
"As you know, I have of late taken an interest in botany," Maxwell laughed. "During my researches I found considerably more specimens of African vegetation in the forest surrounding Rideau's camp than I know the names of, and on several occasions what is of greater interest—footsteps leading toward our partner's tent. The man who made them wore sandals; there is nobody among our combined followers who does."
Dane had no suggestions to make, and therefore kept silent; but that piece of information left him uneasy.
It was a still, oppressive day some months later when Dane stood leaning heavily on a shovel near the edge of the bush. The temperature made exertion almost impossible, and there was a weight in the atmosphere which rendered respiration an effort; for the last two weeks the sun had been hidden all day long and the stars shrouded by haze at night, and the same heavy stillness had brooded over the camp. In such weather sickly white men die off, and wise ones lie still in a hammock whenever possible; but the lust of gold had held two at least of the party strenuously to their task, and already a little heap of yellow grains reposed within an iron-bound chest. The men had, however, experienced some trouble with their colored assistants, who had been unusually dejected and apathetic of late.