“ ‘Water! Water!’ repeated Stasch.”
“ ‘The children!’ cried Dr. Clary.”
“Water!” repeated Stasch.
And he almost threw Nell into the arms of the captain and then he sprang out of the saddle. The next moment he staggered to the ground as if lifeless.
The rejoicing of the rescuers was boundless, but the credulity of the two Englishmen was put to a severe test, as they had been unable to comprehend how the children by themselves had been able to travel over the measureless tracts of land and the deserts which separated their present position from the Nile and Fashoda; neither could they conjecture how “the young Pole,” as they called Stasch, could have done it, and how it was that he appeared before them as the leader of a large caravan—armed with European weapons—with an elephant who carried a palanquin, with horses, tents, and a considerable amount of provisions. At this astounding sight the captain stretched out his hands, saying over and over again: “Clary, I have seen a great deal in my life, but never a boy like this,” and the good doctor, equally astonished, said:
“And he released the little one from captivity—and saved her!” After having made this remark, he ran to the tents to see how the children were and if they were sleeping comfortably.
After they had had food and drink, the children were undressed and put to bed, and slept during the whole of the following day as soundly as if they were dead, and so did the men belonging to their caravan. Captain Glen attempted to question Kali about their adventures and about Stasch’s part in them, but the young negro merely opened one eye and answered: “The Great Man can do everything,” and went to sleep again. So they were obliged to put off their questions until the following day.
Meanwhile the two friends consulted with each other as to the journey back to Mombasa. They had already traveled farther and explored larger tracts than their commission called for, and so they decided to return at once. The unknown lake had a great fascination for the captain, but the welfare of the children and the desire to take them back to their grief-stricken fathers as soon as possible turned the scales. The doctor insisted that at present they should take a good rest on the cool summits of the Kenia or Kilima-Njaro Mountains. They also decided not to send word to the children’s fathers until they reached the mountains, and then tell them to come to Mombasa.
On the third day, after they were well rested and had bathed several times, they started on their return journey. Now they were obliged to part from Kali. Stasch convinced the little one that it would be selfish for her to take him with them to the ocean, or even as far as Egypt, for even in England Kali would be nothing more than a servant, while if he were to rule over his people he could, as king, spread the Christian religion and ameliorate the savage customs of the Wa-himas, and not only civilize them, but make them good. He also expressed similar sentiments to Kali. Many tears were shed at parting. Stasch was not ashamed to weep, for had not he and Nell been through much happiness and misery in common with Kali? And not only had they both learned to appreciate his kind heart, but they had also grown very fond of him. The young negro lay a long time at the feet of his Bwana Kubwa and of the “good Msimu.” He turned back twice to look at them, but at last the moment of parting had come, and the two caravans separated, going in opposite directions.