“Perhaps I may not die after all.”
“You certainly will not die,” answered Stasch, “for as you feel stronger after the second attack, you will never have a third.”
And she began blinking as if trying to recollect something and then said:
“If I only had another little bitter powder, like the one that did me so much good the night after the lion visited us; you remember, don’t you? Then I should not even think of dying—not even so much——”
And with one of her little fingers she indicated how little she would be prepared for death in such a case.
“Ah!” cried Stasch excitedly, “what would I not give for a grain of quinine! I don’t know what!”
And he thought to himself that if he had enough quinine he would not hesitate to give Nell two little powders at once, then wrap her up in the shawl, place her on his horse, and go off immediately in the opposite direction from the camp of the Dervishes.
Meanwhile the sun had gone down suddenly and the jungle was in darkness. The girl talked for nearly half an hour, and then went to sleep, and Stasch continued to think about the Dervishes and the quinine. Although tortured by sorrow and fright, his extraordinarily clever brain began to build more and more daring plans. In the first place, he thought whether or not this smoke seen in the south was bound to come from Smain’s camp. It certainly might come from the Dervishes’ camp, but also from an encampment of Arabians, who penetrate the interior of the continent in search of ivory and slaves. These Arabs were in no wise connected with the Dervishes, who ruined their trade. It might also be a camp of Abyssinians, or some negro village in the mountains, into which the hunters after human beings had not yet penetrated. Would it not be more sensible to find out what it really was?
The Arabians of Zanzibar, from the districts of Bogamajo, Witu, and Mombasa, and the seashore, continually came in contact with the whites, and who could tell if the offer of a large reward would not induce them to conduct Stasch and Nell to one of the nearest seaports. Stasch knew quite well that he could promise them such a reward, and that they would believe his word. But another thought caused him great uneasiness, for he noticed that the Dervishes, especially those from Nubia, were almost as susceptible to fever in Khartum as the whites, and that they cured themselves with quinine, stealing it from the Europeans, or if the renegade Greeks or Copts had any secreted, they bought it at a great price. And so it was probable that the Arabians from the borders of the ocean would certainly have some of it.
“I will go there,” said Stasch to himself; “for Nell’s sake, I will go there!”