tly unfair arrangement, but I suppose it's too late to
upset it. Your partner is half sodden with drink now. You know what that
means in this climate. You've the wit to keep sober enough yourself.
You're a strong man, and he is weak. You must take care of him. You can
if you will."

"Anything else?" Trent asked roughly.

The officer looked his man up and down.

"We're in a pretty rough country," he said, "and a man gets into the
habit of having his own way here. But listen to me! If anything happens
to your partner here or in Buckomari, you'll have me to reckon with. I
shall not forget. We are bound to meet! Remember that!"

Trent turned his back upon him in a fit of passion which choked down all
speech. Captain Francis lit a cigarette and walked across towards his
camp.

CHAPTER VI

A sky like flame, and an atmosphere of sulphur. No breath of air, not
a single ruffle in the great, drooping leaves of the African trees and
dense, prickly shrubs. All around the dank, nauseous odour of poison
flowers, the ceaseless dripping of poisonous moisture. From the face of
the man who stood erect, unvanquished as yet in the struggle for life,
the fierce sweat poured like rain--his older companion had sunk to the
ground and the spasms of an ugly death were twitching at his whitening
lips.

"I'm done, Trent," he gasped faintly. "Fight your way on alone. You've
a chance yet. The way's getting a bit easier--I fancy we're on the right
track and we've given those black devils the slip! Nurse your strength!
You've a chance! Let me be. It's no use carrying a dead man." Gaunt and
wild, with the cold fear of death before him also, the younger man broke
out into a fit of cursing.

"May they rot in the blackest corner of hell, Oom Sam and those
miserable vermin!" he shouted. "A path all the way, the fever season
over, the swamps dry! Oh! when I think of Sam's smooth jargon I would
give my chance of life, such as it is, to have him here for one moment.
To think that beast must live and we die!"

"Prop me up against this tree, Trent--and listen," Monty whispered.
"Don't fritter away the little strength you have left."

Trent did as he was told. He had no particular affection for his partner
and the prospect of his death scarcely troubled him. Yet for twenty
miles and more, through fetid swamps and poisoned jungles, he had
carried him over his shoulder, fighting fiercely for the lives of both
of them, while there remained any ch