d spear. One man carried the hindquarters
of a gnu, the other had a brace of birds dangling from the haft of his
spear.

With an effort von Gobendorff pulled himself together and strode boldly
into the open.

Halting, he signed imperiously to the Birwas to approach.

The blacks obeyed promptly. Experience had taught them to carry out
the behests of their German masters with the utmost celerity. With
every indication of abasement they approached and awaited the white
man's orders.

Von Gobendorff pointed to the still warm embers of the fire.

"I am hungry," he said. "Get me something to eat and drink, and be
sharp."

While one of the Birwas cut strips of flesh from the gnu and spitted
them on skewers, the other placed more wood on the fire and coaxed it
into a blaze. The grilling operation in progress the fire-tender ran
to the canoe to return with a couple of small gourds of water, some
dried berries somewhat resembling coffee beans and a flat cake of
mealie bread.

Von Gobendorff soon discovered that the natives had been serving in the
German outpost at G'henge, a position overrun and captured by a Sikh
battalion about three months previously. They had, they declared, been
very well treated by their new masters.

The fugitive smiled grimly, immediately wincing as the movement of the
facial muscles gave him a thrill of pain. It was evident, he reasoned,
that the Birwas had mistaken him for an officer of the British forces.

Hardly able to wait until the meal was prepared von Gobendorff turned
to and ate with avidity, washing down the food with copious draughts of
hot and far from palatable beverage. Having refreshed he ordered the
blacks to hide all traces of his bivouac and made them carry him to the
canoe. He realised how imperative it was that he should cover his
tracks, and by no means the least important measure was to prevent any
prints of his veldt schoen being discovered on the moist marshland on
the river bank.

"Take me to Kossa," ordered von Gobendorff, naming a small military
post on the Kiwa about thirty miles down the river, and at a point
where the stream made a semi-circular bend before running in a
south-westerly direction to join the Rovuma.

For the first time the Birwas demurred.

"There are strong rapids a little distance down stream," declared one.
"We are not skilled in working a canoe. Can we not take you across to
our village, where there are plenty of men who will padd