“Nonsense,” he managed to stammer. “It—it’s no use being foolish. Got—got to get a grip on myself.”
With that he gave the camp fire such a kick as sent sparks flying and momentarily lighted up the scene.
Enheartened by this he seized a handful of dry palm leaves to hurl them on the glowing coals. In a moment’s time he had a bright fire blazing cheerily.
* * * * * * * *
In the meantime there was consternation at the camp by the Citadel. It was bad enough, Dorn thought, with Johnny Thompson missing. Curlie’s continued absence doubled his anxiety. He was for plunging at once into the jungle in search of his lost companions. To this plan Pompee would not agree. “We are but an old man and a boy,” he argued. “I am strong, but being old I have not the endurance of youth. The jungle would claim me as its own. And you are too young to care for yourself in so vast a wilderness.”
Truth was that Pompee, being black, was very superstitious. The vision he had seen on the Citadel had seemed to him a warning. He would much rather have left the place and gone back to his cabin. But loyalty to his young master forbade this. One thing he could do—he could refuse to lead Dorn into further peril and this he did with all his heart.
To Dorn, held as he was to enforced idleness under the most trying circumstances, the tinkling of a bell that sounded far down the trail was a godsend. He sprang down that trail expecting anything and everything. What he found was a very droll looking donkey, named Midas. Midas was laden with all manner of good things to eat, brought straight from Dorn’s own kitchen.
With Midas came Dorn’s flaxen-haired cousin Doris. Doris was from the States. She was of French descent but her people had lived so long in America that they had become truly American. Dorn liked Doris; in fact everyone liked her. She had a round, smiling face and laughing blue eyes. A friend never came within hailing distance of her but they heard her cheery “Whoo hoo!” and saw her arm swung high in greeting.
Doris was now in Haiti for a rather long visit, while her father was away in Europe on business, but she had entered so thoroughly into the life of the island that to her friends and relatives she already seemed a part of it.
Both Doris and her dark-eyed cousin Dot, Dorn’s sister, had wished to accompany Dorn and his friends on their exploring trip to the Citadel. This, Dot’s father would not permit. The best he would allow was an over-night visit when they brought the supplies. It happened that when the day came for leading the drowsy Midas up the mountain with his loaded hampers Dot was much needed in her father’s office. So Doris and a native girl, Nieta, had come in her stead. This had brought bitter disappointment to Dot. She had, however, found some comfort in the thought that on the night of Doris’ absence she could carry out a secret experiment which she had for a long time contemplated making.