That first person plural relaxed Dick's tautened muscles.
'We'd never get a lady as far as Abercorn,' Smith continued. Dick agreed with a whole heart. 'I've only got enough carriers for my loads. None for her kit, let alone a machila.... If I increased their loads, we'd never make the distance.'
'How far is it?' asked Dick.
'God knows. I'm a stranger in this country, so are my natives. From what you tell me of your trip up the lake we must be over two hundred miles from the south end. Abercorn's twenty miles on.... That's by water—dodging mountains and ravines makes it longer. For instance, there's a road on the other side between M'pala and Badouinville. It's three hours by water and two days on foot.'
'Then why Abercorn?' asked Dick, attaining his objective.
Smith explained that while he didn't know his way to any Boma or settlement on this side of the water, Abercorn would be found by following the lake. And touch need never be lost with drinking water.
'But it's out of the question now,' he declared. 'I was counting on doing it in a fortnight. With the dozen odd rounds I've got, luck and good shooting, we should have been all right for food. But Mrs. Brown could never do twenty-five-mile days.'
Dick agreed.
'I suppose you think,' began Smith, and stopped. 'I'd better tell you,' he began again, 'what I'm doing here without ammunition or food. Else Mrs. Brown may wonder....'
Dick murmured a deprecatory phrase, which fortunately for his curiosity was ignored.