"Good!" Coutlass shouted. "By Jingo, you are a gentleman! You are the best man in the world! I will treat you as my brother!"
"Thanks!" said Fred dryly.
"Aren't you men ever coming?" asked Will, striding out of the shadows. "I've made the dicker—found a man who'd been on the mainland and knows Swahili. The chief's agreeable to loan us two canoes in place of deeding you the woman. I took your name in vain, Fred, and consented to that while your back was turned—kick all you like—the deed is done! Four of his savages come with us as far as we want to go, we feeding 'em meat and paying 'em money. It's agreed they're to eat just as often as we do. They paddle the canoes back home when we're through with them. Are you all ready? Then all aboard! Let's hurry!"
CHAPTER TWELVE
"MANY THAT ARE FIRST SHALL BE LAST; AND THE LAST FIRST—"
When the last of the luck has deserted and the least of the chances
has waned,
When there's nowhere to run to and even the pluck in the smile
that you carry is feigned;
When grimmer than yesterday's horror to-morrow dawns hungry and cold,
And your faith in the coming unknown is denied in regret for the
known and the old,
Then you're facing, my son, what the Fathers from Abraham down to to-day
Have looked on alone, and stood up to alone, and each in his several way
O'ercame (or he shouldn't be Father). So ye shall o'ercome: while
ye live,
Though ye've nothing but breath and good-will to your name ye must
stand to it naked, and give!
Ye shall learn in that hour that the plunder ye won by profession is
nought—
And false was the aim ye aspired with—and dross was the glamour
ye sought—
The codes and the creeds that ye cherished were shadows of clouds
in the wind,
(And ye can not recall for their counsel lost leaders ye dallied
behind!)
Ye shall stand in that hour and discover by agony's guttering flame
How the fruits of self-will, and the lees of ambition and
bitterness all are the same,
Until, stripped of desire, ye shall know that was death. Then the
proof that ye live
Shall be knowledge new-born that the naked—the fools and the felons,
can give!
Then the suns and the stars in their courses shall speedily swing
to your aid,
And nothing shall hinder you further, and nothing shall make you afraid,
For the veriest edges of evil shall challenge your joy, and no more,
And room for the right shall shine clear in your vision where wrong
was before.
Then the stones in the road shall be restful that used to be traps
for your feet,
Then the crowd shall be kind that was cruel before, and your
solitude sweet
That was want to be gloomy aforetime and gray—when the proof that ye
live
Is no longer the pain of desire, but the will—and the wit—and
the vision, to give!
The canoes were the usual crazy affairs, longer and rather wider than the average. The bottom portion of each was made from a tree-trunk, hollowed out by burning, and chipped very roughly into shape. The sides were laboriously hewn planks, stitched into place with thread made from papyrus.
Some of the men left behind were our personal servants. Counting them and Kazimoto, there were twenty natives remaining with us, making, with the four men lent us by the chief, an allowance of twelve to each canoe. If we had had loads as well it would have been a problem how to get the whole party away; but as Lady Saffren Waldon had left us nothing but three cooking-pots, we just contrived to crowd the last man in without passing the danger point, Fred taking charge of the first canoe with Brown of Lumbwa and Kazimoto, and leaving Coutlass with the other canoe to Will and me. We agreed it was most convenient to keep the Greek and the rifle separated by a stretch of water.