"Good, good, my name is Linde; I am a Swiss from Zurich. Two days ago I met with an accident. A wart-hog wounded me severely."
Afterwards he addressed the lad:
"Nasibu, fill my pipe."
Then he said to Stas:
"In the night-time the fever is worse and my mind becomes confused. But a pipe clears my thoughts. Truly, did you say that you had escaped from dervish captivity and are hiding in the jungle? Is it so?"
"Yes, sir. I said it."
"And what do you intend to do?"
"Fly to Abyssinia."
"You will fall into the hands of the Mahdists; whose divisions are prowling all along the boundary."
"We cannot, however, undertake anything else."