"No use, mine friends. He iss dead--was ist das? A letter?"

He peered down at the paper in Charlie's hand. Without a word the boy
handed it to Schoverling. The wagons were just creeping through the
first trees, toward the water, and the Indians rushed off to restrain
the oxen from plunging into the stream.

"Come over here into the shade," said the explorer quietly. "Mowbray is
lying in there, Doctor, dead, and seemingly pretty badly wounded.
Perhaps these two sheets will throw some light on the situation."

They sat down around him beneath one of the big trees, and for a moment
there was dead silence as the explorer examined the scrawled writing on
the two sheets of paper and tattered envelope. Von Hofe nervously filled
his pipe, nearly dropping it in the attempt.

"He seems to have written this after he got to the hut here," began the
explorer. "It has no date and runs on in disconnected sentences." He
paused, a catch in his voice. After a moment he went on, with no further
sign of the emotion that must have possessed him.

"'Yesterday the camel died. Conscious but helpless. Arm, leg, ribs and
head broken. Five days travel, to south. Zahir hurt, but managed to drag
me to river and trees. I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, whence
cometh--'

"That's the first of it," said the explorer. At this moment Gholab
approached and saluted respectfully, his bearded face immobile. "Well,
what is it?"

"Does the sahib wish to outspan here?"

"Yes. Outspan and pitch camp for to-day. And, Gholab, have two graves
dug at the top of this little rise."

The Gurkha saluted and wheeled. Charlie caught an excited look from
Jack, and then gave his attention to the General once more.

"'Zahir has built a hut. Could get away but refuses. No cartridges in
revolver. Z. is cutting up camel. Tough but nourishing. Have hopes. If I
pull out will reward Z. for life.'

"That's the second bunch of sentences, written on the envelope. The next
seems to come on the back of the letter, and is addressed doubly."

The explorer swept his eye down the two dirty, torn papers, and then
read slowly:

"'To Selim ben Amoud or Louis Schoverling. Whoever finds, take to them.

"'Fever for two weeks. Camel gone bad, no cartridges. Zahir-ed-din ben
Yusuf has caught some mice for me and starved self. No hope left unless
L. S. comes. Am weaker, and Z. has fever.

"'In watchcase is plan of Selim's. Struck east from Lake Sugota with
camels. Had