TJLJf 
 n 
 
 F 
 
 ROBERT SIMPS0 
 
 MB*
 
 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 J
 
 THE BITE 
 OF BENIN
 
 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "WHERE MANY GO IN 
 BUT FEW COME OUT" 
 
 BY 
 
 ROBERT [SIMPSON 
 
 Author of ''Barstoiv's Wife," "The Legacy of Tears," 
 "The Executioner," etc. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THE JAMES A. McCANN COMPANY 
 '1919
 
 Copyright 1919. by 
 
 THE JAMES A. McCANN COMPANY 
 All k.ght* RM/Md 
 
 Printed in th U.S. A
 
 35-31 
 
 To M# Mother 
 
 1562961
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. THE CHIEF OF AKERRI 1 
 
 II. Miss SEVEROID 11 
 
 III. EMULATING CLAUDE DUVAL 18 
 
 IV. THE MESSENGER 29 
 
 V. IN SEARCH OF PROTECTION 37 
 
 VI. SIGNALS 47 
 
 VII. TEARS 55 
 
 VIII. THE AFFAIR AT SAGANNA 63 
 
 IX. THE SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT 72 
 
 X. AGIGI TAKES A HAND 80 
 
 XL INSTRUCTIONS 87 
 
 XII. THE FIGHT \ 95 
 
 XIII. No ANSWER 104 
 
 XIV. ARRANGEMENTS 114 
 
 XV. THE "TRAP" 121 
 
 XVI. THE FALL OF McCmRE 132 
 
 XVII. ON THE MAYONA ROAD 141 
 
 XVIII. THROUGH THE RAIN 153 
 
 XIX. DISCIPLINE 165 
 
 XX. AN INTRUSION 177 
 
 XXI. BETRAYED 186 
 
 XXII. THE CONQUEST OF THE GOVERNMENT .... 196 
 
 XXIII. THE RETURN OF THE CHIEF 205 
 
 XXIV. THE PLOT 214 
 
 XXV. METHOD IN His MADNESS 226 
 
 XXVI. ON TO TULAMI 238 
 
 XXVII. WITHIN THE GATES 248 
 
 XXVIII. THE EXCHANGE 256 
 
 XXIX. THE RETURN 267 
 
 XXX. THE AWAKENING 276 
 
 XXXI. THE RECKONING 284 
 
 XXXII. THE WAGER 298 
 
 XXXIII. A THREAT AND A PROMISE 310 
 
 XXXIV. CRALLA? 320 
 
 XXXV. "LIKE A GENTLEMAN UNAFRAID" 329 
 
 XXXVI. THE HEADSTONE 339
 
 THE BITE 
 OF BENIN
 
 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE CHIEF OF AKERRI 
 
 WITHIN a bare room of a mud-walled hut in the 
 village of Akerri two men leaned across a rickety table 
 and talked in whispers. A kerosene lamp with a col 
 ored glass reservoir shed its flickering light upon their 
 faces one of which was white, young, eager; the 
 other black, middle-aged, impassive. 
 
 Cards and a dice box occupied the space between 
 them. 
 
 The white man he was little more than a boy 
 sat upon an ancient camp chair that tilted sidewise 
 and threatened to collapse the black upon an empty 
 two-tin kerosene case. 
 
 Beyond them, in the shadows of the doorway, a lithe 
 young Jackrie girl lay coiled upon a mat watching. 
 
 Upon the wall, immediately above the white man's 
 head, hung a cheap print of Queen Victoria. Cralla 
 was a devout patriot. 
 
 The village sweltered in heathenish slumber. Out 
 of the swamps and the bush round about came the 
 shrill whistling of insects and the strange, burring 
 croak of frogs. Occasionally the yelp of a maraud 
 ing bush dog, kicked out of a neighboring hut, or 
 the singsong crooning of a dusky mother to a wake 
 ful infant, would disturb the somber quiet, but neither
 
 2 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 the white man nor the black nor the girl in the door 
 way paid any heed. 
 
 The white man's name was Ralph Debenham. He 
 was a young Englishman, within striking distance of 
 his majority, and he had been in the Niger Delta about 
 a year, being employed as an assistant on Marsden & 
 Co.'s trading station at Segwanga. This was two 
 hour's distant from Akerri by canoe. 
 
 In Segwanga young Debenham was known as a 
 "queer cuss," which decided his status finally and 
 allowed him to go his own queer way unhindered and 
 unquestioned. 
 
 If a "first-timer" did not volunteer information 
 about himself it was not considered judicious to in 
 quire into his reason for having severed his connec 
 tions with the homeland to take up temporary resi 
 dence in a country in which death comes in so many 
 guises that there are no names for some of them. 
 
 But in passing it may be said that visiting native 
 villages alone, after dark, was once, and probably is 
 yet, a frequent cause for sudden, violent additions 
 to .the death rate. 
 
 A glimpse of Debenham's quick, dark eyes and 
 eager, twitching mouth, would have told a physiogno 
 mist in a twinkling that he was impulsive to the point 
 of suicidal recklessness. The fact of his being in 
 the native village of Akerri after midnight was suf 
 ficient proof of his dominant characteristics without 
 searching his face to find them. 
 
 His companion was Chief Cralla, a magnificently 
 built, broad-faced Jackrie, whose color and lips and 
 nose told of an ancient Portuguese strain in his blood. 
 
 Cralla was remarkable in many respects. 
 
 First, he was almost a gentleman and the ordi 
 nary Jackrie is not within several centuries of that 
 distinction. His habitat is the Benin River district of
 
 THE CHIEF OF AKERRI 3 
 
 that mystic, swampy maze known as the Niger Delta, 
 and he is a liar and a thief by birth and education! 
 
 He buys his wives like cattle and does not eat with 
 a knife and fork, but sits upon his haunches about 
 the family chop-pot; and he who has the largest and 
 most prehensile hands gets the biggest share. 
 
 In his squalid, mud-built villages, screened from the 
 outer world by the thick, green curtain of the Delta 
 bush, some of his brethren wear clothes and some do 
 not. Like olives, clothes are an acquired taste among 
 them. 
 
 His gods are strange and his customs queer and 
 often terrible. He has no word in the mongrel jargon 
 he speaks that expresses gratitude. 
 
 But Chief Cralla was different. In addition to the 
 cloth of brilliant "real India" which was girded about 
 him, native fashion, like a skirt, leaving several yards 
 to trail splendidly in his wake, he wore a singlet of 
 the finest quality, a soft white silk shirt and a coat 
 of spotless white flannel. He was admitted to be the 
 leader of fashion. 
 
 Shoes, however, were as yet too much for him. 
 Feet that have gone naked and unrestrained from in 
 fancy to manhood do not take kindly to the confine 
 ment of leather. 
 
 Cralla's hair was a crinkly gray a fact that gave 
 him added dignity. His lips, though puffy, were un 
 usually thin, and his nose had come down to him from 
 a European ancestor. 
 
 It was not his fault that his parents had marred 
 an otherwise good face by marking it with the family 
 coat-of-arms, which consisted of queer looking little 
 puttylike lumps black, of course arranged in reg 
 ular order on his forehead and cheeks, and induced 
 during adolescence by the simple, if painful, process 
 of marking out the design with a sharp knife an 1
 
 4 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 doctoring the wounds with a root juice that caused 
 those permanent swellings. 
 
 His eyes, black as the night without, watched 
 Debenham with a lazy interest that was most discon 
 certing. 
 
 The girl in the doorway, who was called Ilora, 
 watched them both. 
 
 Debenham was speaking, and his voice sounded like 
 the low hum of bees. 
 
 "You savvy where he be? You can go to ms 
 place any time? No be so?' 1 
 
 Cralla nodded, but hesitatingly* as though he were 
 afraid to admit it, and his glance drifted to the cards. 
 He had an abnormal passion for gambling, and would 
 bet on anything, from the number of palm-nut kernels 
 in a bushel to a race- between a crocodile and the first 
 slave victim of a new moon ju-ju, across the dark, sac 
 rificial pool beyond Saganna. 
 
 And he had been known to back the slave and win ! 
 
 "Wait li'l bit," Debenham urged in a low monotone. 
 "We play when we finish talk. This is a big palaver 
 big- money palaver. Niger Company at Burutu say 
 they go pay them man who can catch Clavering fifty 
 thousand piece. Fifty thousaiid, Cralla! Think of 
 it!" 
 
 "Ee-yaw!" 
 
 The Jackrie's exclamation, which is the equivalent 
 of "Holy smoke!" or anything you are in the habit of 
 saying when you are surprised and awed, proved that 
 he thought fifty thousand pieces a considerable for 
 tune. 
 
 In civilized currency it meant five thousand pounds. 
 Two shillings was the equivalent of a "piece," and was 
 so called because the amount purchased an eight-yard 
 piece of print-cloth the grade generally worn by the 
 "masses."
 
 THE CHIEF OF AKERRI 5 
 
 Only within the past few days had the Niger Com 
 pany raised its standing offer of one thousand pounds 
 to five thousand pounds for the capture of Graydon 
 Clavering, alive or dead preferably dead ! 
 
 The man was worthy of the price. 
 
 Often aptly referred to as the "human harmattan," 
 Clavering was an enigma. 
 
 No one really knew who he was or where he 
 had come from, but many men, in thoughtless an 
 ger, had blasphemed against the mother who had 
 borne him. 
 
 The Niger Company did not care to enumerate the 
 charges against him. He was called wonderful, ter 
 rible, unscrupulous, magnificent, daring, spectacular 
 and devilish ; and probably the final adjective was 
 the best. 
 
 He went everywhere and did anything he pleased; 
 knew every bush-path that led into the heart- of the 
 mysterious hinterland, and could steer a launch blind 
 folded through the intricate network of the dark, for 
 bidding Delta creeks. 
 
 He had smuggled arms and ammunition, and sold 
 them to the natives, which means much indiscriminate 
 killing of both black and white. He had made and 
 unmade chiefs; incited rebellions and quelled them; 
 put down. one juju and set up another. 
 
 He had stolen the government's launch Vigilant, and 
 returned it several weeks later plus a new coat of black 
 paint and a significant skull-and-cross-bones design on 
 the funnel. He had taken fifty puncheons of palm oil 
 out of Carey & Co.'s oil yard, and had sold them two 
 days later in ten-puncheon lots to the five trading firms 
 on the Segwanga Creek. 
 
 He appeared to command legions of natives, but 
 was never seen in the company of any of them. He 
 had no headquarters lived nowhere; appeared, de-
 
 6 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 spoiled, vanished and appeared again in the most un 
 expected places. 
 
 The natives considered him a juju, and feared him 
 as they feared the most ancient of their fetish super 
 stitions; the whites regarded him in much the same 
 way as they did a harmattan mist, which comes like a 
 gray ghost in the night, chilling the tropical atmos 
 phere to freezing point, and, taking its toll of lives, 
 passes on into nothingness again. 
 
 "Harmattan" Clavering's latest exploit had been to 
 set the Kwalis, a dangerous, up-river tribe, to work 
 upon a systematic interference with the Niger Com 
 pany's business. As a result the company's concessions 
 in Kwali territory had been put out of operation and 
 their white occupants forced to flee for their lives. 
 
 Kwali country just then, so far as the white trading 
 element was concerned, was effectively sealed a fact 
 that was costing the Niger Company several times the 
 price of Clavering's head, and netting Clavering a like 
 amount in his monopoly of the territory's mahogany 
 and produce. 
 
 These conditions might continue for a month or two 
 till the rebellious natives were brought to order; and 
 then Clavering, with his pockets well lined with upper 
 Delta gold, would drift from the scene and appear 
 again in a locality no one would have suspected. 
 
 Doubtless in the public mind Clavering and his 
 deeds and powers were greatly exaggerated. There 
 were a hundred versions to every story told about him. 
 
 But there is only one version to this one. 
 
 "Fifty thousand piece, Cralla!" Debenham repeated. 
 "I can shoot" he snapped his fingers "like that, and 
 it's all over. Fifty thousand, Cralla, don't forget that ! 
 Fifty thousand!" 
 
 The girl in the doorway rolled over and curled her
 
 THE CHIEF OF AKERRI 7 
 
 head in her arms as though the discussion made her 
 very tired. It was not the first time Debenham had 
 broached the subject. 
 
 Cralla glanced quickly in her direction, hesitated a 
 second, then leaned nearer to his guest. 
 
 "I no savvy fif t'ousan'. How much puncheon be 
 fif t'ousan'?" 
 
 Debenham calculated quickly, figuring the puncheon 
 of palm oil as one hundred and eighty gallons at the 
 prevailing purchase price. Then, with a note of awe 
 in his voice, he said slowly and impressively : 
 
 "Sev-en hun-dred !" 
 
 "Ee-yaw! Chaw!" The final exclamation trailed 
 out into a whispering silence. 
 
 Cralla sat up straight, regarding his guest with an 
 expression of unbelief, as though he doubted that 
 there were as many as seven hundred puncheons of 
 palm oil in the whole world. 
 
 "You no trouble for nothing," Debenham whispered 
 temptingly. "Tell me where I can find him, and I go 
 get him myself. I no fear them man. When I catch 
 him and bring him to Niger Company beach they'll 
 pay me seven hundred puncheon, then I pay you half 
 savvy ? You'll be big man then bigger than Awalla !" 
 
 Awalla was the richest and most influential chief in 
 the district, and Cralla, muttering something in Jack- 
 rie, appeared to be studying the matter; perhaps pic 
 turing himself taking precedence to Awalla. In any 
 case, his eagerness increased, as though he would tell 
 what he knew at once. 
 
 But as Debenham watched and waited there came 
 into the Jackrie's face the expression the adventurous 
 young Englishman had dreaded that superstitious 
 fear which Harmattan Clavering had generated in the 
 breast of every native who had heard his name. 
 
 "I no fit." Cralla backed away from the proposal
 
 8 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 physically as well as mentally. "Clavering be ju-ju. 
 If I talk a hundred man come kill me one time. Plen'y 
 puncheon no use for dead man !" 
 
 From a neighboring slave compound came the eery 
 whining of a newly-branded human purchase, awak 
 ened from a troubled sleep. Debenham tried to con 
 ceal his disgust, but did not succeed very well. 
 
 Ilora's head rose a little and her eyes fell upon Deb 
 enham with a lazy indifference that was the height of 
 supreme contempt. Then, resting her cheek upon her 
 arms again, she seemed to doze as he droned on per 
 suasively. 
 
 "You can, Cralla. That ju-ju talk is fool talk. 
 Those things" he nodded toward the cards and dice 
 "be bigger ju-ju than Clavering." 
 
 Cralla's expression instantly changed from fear to 
 fascination. His hand went out to the dice box like 
 a coy lover's to his sweetheart's hand. 
 
 "Tell you what I'll do, Cralla," Debenham said sud 
 denly. "I'll play you for it." 
 
 "Chaw!" 
 
 Cralla's eyes snapped upon his tempter in amaze 
 ment. His exclamation meant that he thought Deben 
 ham was taking an unfair advantage of him. 
 
 Ilora raised her head again, and this time did not 
 let it fall. The whining in the slave compound had 
 ceased. 
 
 Debenham concealed a smile of triumph, and paused 
 impressively to allow Cralla's greatest weakness to feed 
 upon his idea. Then he leaned across the table. 
 
 "I'll play you for it. If I lose, I pay five puncheon. 
 If you lose, you tell which place I can find him. One 
 throw. You play?" 
 
 The Jackrie stirred uneasily, looked all about him, 
 fought a useless fight for a minute or two and lost. 
 
 Ilora raised herself upon her elbows.
 
 THE CHIEF OF AKERRI 9 
 
 "Be five puncheon you pay?" Cralla asked hoarsely. 
 "Five puncheon !" Debenham returned with remark 
 able coolness in one so young, considering the fact that 
 he was gambling with six months' pay. "And you tell 
 if you lose?" 
 
 Cralla took up the dice box in a shaking hand that 
 distinctly said that he was gambling with death. 
 Young Debenham knew that, too, but he needed the 
 five thousand pounds very badly. At least, others for 
 whom he was responsible did, and to him that meant 
 the same thing. 
 
 He had no fear of Cralla not paying if he lost. 
 Cralla always paid; probably because he knew that if 
 he did not others would not pay him when he won. 
 And Cralla usually won. 
 Ilora crept up to her knees. 
 
 "One throw," Debenham said, struggling to keep 
 the anxiety he felt out of his voice. "You first." 
 
 Cralla hesitated, smiled a ghastly smile, looked 
 affrightedly about him again. Then, with a significant 
 shrug of the shoulders, he rattled the dice box vigor 
 ously, muttered some jargon in Jackrie, and threw. 
 
 His nose followed the dice to the table, then came 
 up slowly. 
 
 He grinned. He had thrown two fives. 
 Debenham went a little whiter. 
 Ilora had risen to her feet a lithe black Venus, 
 coiled about by a rich cloth of deep red. There was a 
 yellow silk handkerchief wound about her head. Her 
 glistening white teeth gleamed exultantly in answer to 
 Cralla' s smile, and as Debenham took up the dice box 
 she went still nearer to the table with a soundless 
 movement that brought her more swiftly than one 
 realized up behind the young Englishman. 
 He threw. 
 Cralla saw the result first, and jerked backward upon
 
 io THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 the kerosene case as though Debenham had struck him. 
 A harsh Jackrie guttural escaped him. 
 
 Debenham had thrown eleven. 
 
 Ilora's hands crept up to the silk handkerchief about 
 her head, and she glided nearer to Debenham, who was 
 watching Cralla's twitching lips with a satisfied smile. 
 
 There was an awesome silence. 
 
 And then, in a second, something glaring yellow 
 whipped across Debenham's eyes and tightened. 
 
 "Hell ! You black swine, you've " 
 
 It ended in a choking gurgle as a hand was clapped 
 over his mouth. The light of the little lamp went 
 out, throwing the hut into the darkness of the Pit. 
 
 There was a scuffling of feet, the labored hiss of 
 Debenham's struggles to avoid a gag, a murmuring 
 storm of Jackrie, the sudden winding of a rope round 
 Debenham's ankles and then 
 
 "Thanks, everybody. I think that will do. Lift 
 them up and carry them out. Don't hurt the white 
 man, but you can pound friend Cralla for all you are 
 worth. Good girl, Ilora. Cleverly done. Wah!" 
 
 Clavering I
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 MISS SEVEROID 
 
 THERE is nothing between Forcados and Segwanga 
 save gloomily threatening creeks and a monotonous 
 bank of drab green bush that suggests a great deal of 
 mystery and cloaks much that is weird and incompre 
 hensible. 
 
 Forcados, the bleak and enervating terminal for 
 steamers out of Liverpool, was four hours from Seg 
 wanga by a good launch. 
 
 But the mission's launch Violet was not a good 
 launch, and when something happened to her boiler 
 twenty miles north of Forcados at eight in the evening, 
 which is two hours after dark, the young man from 
 Marsden's Beach broke the news to the Mission Lady 
 as gently as he could. 
 
 They were the only passengers. 
 
 The Mission Lady laughed to show that she did not 
 care, and they sat together, stranded in the midst of 
 nowhere, surrounded by a blanket of darkness in 
 which the little cabin lamp seemed like a beacon that 
 is, when it was not almost smothered by the hosts of 
 insects that crowded about it. Davie Tait that was 
 the young man's name really did not mind the delay 
 at all. He had been down to Forcados superintending 
 the transfer of a shipment of kerosene from an Ameri 
 can oil ship to a dirty little low-draft river boat, and 
 the Mission Lady was so much of a change after so 
 
 ii
 
 12 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 onerous a task that he actually hoped the dusky engi 
 neer would he in no hurry making his repairs. 
 
 The Mission Lady had just come out from England, 
 and Davie, every time he looked at her, wondered why 
 on earth she had come out at all. 
 
 To begin with, the Delta was no place for a white 
 woman for several unsavory reasons, and the new Mis 
 sion Lady breathed soft, soothing femininity from the 
 top of her dull gold head to the soles of her small 
 white buckskin shoes. 
 
 As a rule, mission ladies were thin, worn, disap 
 pointed-looking women who did not seem to care much 
 whether they lived or died. But the new Mission Lady 
 was not in the least like that. 
 
 Her hair, glinting out of the shadows of the broad 
 rim of her pith helmet tempted Davie, who was young 
 and impressionable, to remove the helmet and disclose 
 all of the treasure beneath. Then he saw her eyes 
 large, blue and deep with the innocence of a child in 
 them. He felt himself slipping into a sort of trance, 
 in which he rudely dissected the Mission Lady's strong, 
 womanly face, feature by feature, vaguely conscious 
 that she was asking a great many questions of the same 
 sort he had asked when he first arrived in the country, 
 and that he was answering them as intelligibly as he 
 could. 
 
 He saw that her eyebrows were very dark and her 
 laslies darker and very long. Her nose was small and 
 straight, and her mouth, sensitive and delicious to look 
 upon, seemed destined to kiss away children's tears. 
 
 But the chin gave the impression that all the softness 
 and the warmth in her face was built upon a solid 
 foundation, and one knew instantly that once those 
 firm little jaws came together, there was a wealth of 
 strength and will to keep them shut. 
 
 She was not tall, nor sl>ort, nor stout, nor yet too
 
 MISS SEVEROID 13 
 
 slender; but all soft lines and warmth and sympathy, 
 which Da vie felt would go to waste upon greasy, half- 
 naked black brutes who would not even begin to appre 
 ciate it. Her voice was low and evenly modulated, and 
 she said her name was Miss Severoid. 
 
 When Davie told her that he was employed by Mars- 
 den & Co. at Segwanga, she started perceptibly and 
 seemed to come nearer to him, mentally and physically. 
 In fact, though he could not have explained why, he 
 was a little afraid of her after that. Her eyes glowed 
 upon him so steadily. 
 
 "Do you think he will be long?" she inquired, break 
 ing a somewhat awkward pause and referring to the 
 engineer's efforts to repair the boiler. 
 
 "Not very." 
 
 Davie knew that he lied, but he was afraid to tell her 
 that the repairs would consume two or three hours. 
 
 "I don't care for myself," the Mission Lady admitted 
 bravely, fanning herself to keep the mosquitoes and 
 sandflies away, "but I'm afraid the people at the 
 mission will be worried." 
 
 "Shall I go out and see how he is getting along?" 
 
 "N-no, please. Just that is I " 
 
 "All right." 
 
 Both smiled, and Davie saw that Miss Severoid's 
 teeth were small and white and even. He also ob 
 served that there was hardly an inch of seat separating 
 him from her, and he had no idea of how she had 
 come so near. He fidgeted, twirling his helmet about 
 in his hands ; and then, using it as a fan, scattered the 
 swarm of insects about the lamp, which, of course, 
 made him move a foot or two away from his com 
 panion. 
 
 The Mission Lady's eyes followed him, and he knew 
 that they did, though he did not look at her. Just as 
 he was trying to say something to relieve the depress-
 
 14 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 ing quiet, she rose and walked slowly past him to the 
 door of the cabin, where she stood very still, staring 
 out into the pitch black night. 
 
 Davie was sure he had offended her, particularly 
 when he saw her hands clench and unclench slowly, 
 her long tapering fingers giving the impression of seiz 
 ing upon something and crushing it. He wished he 
 could say he was sorry or something, but words of 
 apology were difficult. And then she turned and came 
 toward him again. Her cheeks were a little paler than 
 they had been. 
 
 "How long have you been in Segwanga, Mr. Tait?" 
 she asked, resuming her seat with leisurely indifference. 
 
 "Oh, only seven months. Just a month before poor 
 Debenham disappeared." 
 
 "Disappeared !" 
 
 The word was repeated eagerly, as though it antici 
 pated a story. Davie, being anxious to talk and to 
 please, obliged readily. 
 
 "Yes just like smoke from a pipe. He was a -queer 
 skate, always digging around native villages after din 
 ner and going off on a ran-dan all by himself. But he 
 did it once too often. Went out one night, nobody 
 knew where (nobody ever did know where he went to) 
 and that night he didn't come back. We looked for 
 him, of course everybody did; but there wasn't a 
 chance in a million that we'd find him when he didn't 
 show up on his own feet. And he didn't. 
 
 "Chief Cralla of Akerrf was quite a pal of poor 
 Deb's, and we knew he went there very often. But 
 Cralla claims he wasn't at Akerri that night, and of 
 course everybody in his filthy town agrees with him. 
 You can't get a Jackrie to give evidence against a Jack- 
 rie, especially in a case like that. 
 
 "McClure he's my boss, Marsden's agent at Seg 
 wanga knows this country like a book, and he tore
 
 MISS SEVEROID 15 
 
 some of the ju-ju towns up by the roots looking for 
 Debenham. But it wasn't any use. Poor Deb hasn't 
 come back yet, and we've stopped hoping he will." 
 
 Miss Severoid's hand went out and rested lightly on 
 Davie's arm. 
 
 "You knew this man Debenham?" 
 
 Her voice was very quiet, and Davie could not have 
 explained the sensation he had then. 
 
 He was a little afraid of her; a queer sort of fear 
 that was not unpleasant, but tempting. It was as if 
 the delicate fingers that were creeping down his arm 
 to his hand were, like her eyes, charged with some 
 magnetic power that held him still and quiet just 
 looking at her. 
 
 Many minutes seemed to pass before he managed to 
 answer : 
 
 "Y-yes oh, yes. We worked together. I liked 
 him, and I think he had a much bigger heart than most 
 of the other fellows believed. They said he was a 
 conceited kid, but he and I were about the same age, 
 so maybe I understood him better. I know he was 
 pretty good to me kind, you know, without making a 
 fuss about it, and that means a lot to a greenhorn in 
 the first week or two." 
 
 Miss Severoid's fingers had slipped down to his 
 hand, and he felt the sudden pressure of them with the 
 same startling effects of an electric shock. 
 
 But he did not move. Her eyes would not let him. 
 
 He could hear the engineer tinkering with the boiler 
 and, somewhere beyond the ligiit. of the little cabin 
 lamp, the steady swish of paddles came to his ears. 
 
 "I see." Miss Severoid's fingers released their grip 
 upon his hand as if loath to let it go. 
 
 Davie did not in the least understand what she 
 meant. A little confused, he began fumbling with his 
 helmet again for lack of anything better to do.
 
 16 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Followed an exceptionally awkward quiet. 
 
 And then, with such suddenness that they both 
 jumped, the wailing scream of a launch siren cut the 
 stillness like a cry of a soul in torment. A great black 
 thing that carried no lights came out of the murk like 
 a fantom and slipped alongside the Violet before 
 Davie or his companion had recovered from their sur 
 prise sufficiently to guess at anything. 
 
 The young man sprang to his feet, and Miss Sever- 
 oid followed him quickly to the cabin doorway. 
 
 "What's the trouble?" a large voice asked, and a firm 
 foot trod the Violet's deck forward. 
 
 There was no answer. The work upon the boiler 
 ceased. Davie heard something like a grban, but no 
 sound of a struggle. He caught Miss Severoid's arm 
 impulsively and drew her back into the cabin. 
 
 "Just just sit down. It's all right. I'll talk to 
 him." 
 
 And his hand wenfc below his light flannel coat to his 
 hip. 
 
 Miss Severoid's quick eyes caught the movement 
 and undei%tood it. She emitted a smothered little 
 scream, clutched Davie's good right arm, and held on 
 to it as though her life depended upon it. 
 
 "You mustn't ! It isn't so bad " 
 
 "Let go ! For Heaven's sake, Miss Severoid, it's " 
 
 "Quite right, young man," came a voice through the 
 open skylight above. "But Miss Severoid has better 
 judgment than you have. Drop it !" 
 
 Both Miss Severoid and Davie glanced sharply up 
 ward and stood suddenly apart, the young man staring 
 foolishly into the broad, clean-shaven face of a man 
 whose coal-black eyes laughed down at him derisively, 
 and in whose hand reposed and reposed is the word 
 a revolver of most capable dimensions. 
 
 Miss Severoid backed away from it instinctively;
 
 MISS SEVEROID 17, 
 
 but she made no sound; just gazed into the intruder's 
 face more in surprised interest than fear. 
 
 Davie's revolver clattered to the cabin deck. 
 
 "Thanks. Now you can kick it under the seat." 
 
 Davie's obedience was sheepish but prompt; and his 
 weapon had hardly vanished when the stranger disap 
 peared and appeared again in the cabin doorway. It 
 seemed almost too narrow to allow his massive shoul 
 ders to get through. 
 
 "Hope I didn't frighten you, Miss Severoid?" he 
 apologized, and his revolver was in its holster. "My 
 name is Clavering at your service."
 
 CHAPTER .III 
 
 EMULATING CLAUDE DUVAL* 
 
 As he stood there, helmet in hand, the personifica 
 tion of cool ease and courtesy, a casual observer would 
 never have believed him to be the man report said he 
 was; that he had robbed and ravaged and killed just 
 for the love of it. 
 
 But in riding breeches and puttees, with his soft blue 
 shirt thrown open at the neck, just hinting at the 
 breadth and depth of the chest and the freedom of the 
 wild life he led, he instantly gave the impression of a 
 wealth of strength and an inordinate ability to do things 
 with much speed and, probably, startling effect. 
 
 One would never have questioned his ability to take 
 care of himself. A little over six feet in height and 
 built in admirable proportion, he radiated action and a 
 restless, untiring dynamic force that not only ignored 
 the laws of man but seemingly of nature as well. 
 
 His features were lean, almost sharp, all the strength 
 and vivacity in his face being centered in his gleaming 
 white teeth and in the glistening blackness of his eyes. 
 Both smiled or snapped; in the latter case his mouth 
 showed thin and somewhat cruel. 
 
 His eyebrows were heavy, of a darker shade than 
 his hair, which, closely trimmed for comfort, was 
 rather thin above the temples. 
 
 Davie regarded him in mingled dismay, admiration, 
 and horror; but Miss Severoicl, to whom the situation 
 was even more strange, was neither dismayed nor hor 
 rified simply interested. 
 
 18
 
 EMULATING CLAUDE DUVAL 19 
 
 She studied Clavering for a moment or two as 
 though she were but mildly questioning the reason for 
 the intrusion; then, with a slight inclination of the 
 head and a smile that acknowledged his introduction 
 of himself, she said sweetly: 
 
 "You will pardon me if I do not quite understand 
 the meaning of these melodramatic effects? I've just 
 arrived, you know, and, being led to understand that I 
 was to be prepared for anything in this terrible country, 
 I presume this isn't so unusual as it seems. But might 
 I ask who and what you are, Mr. Clavering; and just 
 how much service you can be to us? At present we 
 are badly in need of a launch that will go." 
 
 Davie was startled so much so that he transferred 
 his attention from Clavering to Miss Severoid, and his 
 expression of indecision and amazement was comical. 
 
 Clavering's eyes narrowed a little. White women 
 he had met with usually employed screams or hysterics 
 in situations of the sort. 
 
 "Quite refreshing, Miss Severoid, I assure you," he 
 approved with a cynical smile. "Your engineer did 
 his best to get into the boiler when he caught sight of 
 me, and your escort thought it necessary to produce 
 fire-arms even before he saw me. Which might sug 
 gest that I am not altogether respectable. But if you 
 are in need of a launch and are willing to use mine, I 
 shall be glad to take you anywhere you wish to go." 
 
 "That isn't definite enough, I'm afraid," Miss Sever 
 oid returned with a quaint, alluring smile. "You 
 don't look like a desperado. Might I ask if you are 
 so despefate as to warrant a price upon your head ?" 
 
 "Just five thousand," came the reply easily and with 
 an apologetic note, as though the amount were not 
 enough to do him honor. "The launch I've got be 
 longs to the commissioner at Forcados, so you can be 
 sure that it is perfectly sound. Your engineer won't
 
 20 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 get over the scare he's had for hours. Would you care 
 to use it?" 
 
 Two blue eyes met two of black steadily for almost 
 a minute. 
 
 Davie, whose mouth was open, shifted his attention 
 from one to the other, trying to comprehend that silent 
 'duel. It is questionable if either of the participants 
 knew that it was a duel just then. 
 
 Clavering's glance became doubtful and his smile a 
 little less ingratiating. 
 
 Miss Severoid laughed a low, soft ripple of en 
 joyment that sounded strangely out of place. 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Clavering, I will if the invitation 
 includes Mr. Tait?" 
 
 Davie instantly looked as if he hoped it would not. 
 
 "Why, of course ! Glad to have Mr. Tait ; and you 
 can remain here if you like. I'll tow you. Better go 
 at once, I think. Don't you ?" 
 
 Miss Severoid nodded and smiled. 
 
 "Very well." 
 
 Yet Clavering did not move. He stood in the door 
 way undecided, considering the Mission Lady's smile. 
 For once in his life at least he was ill at ease. He 
 seemed to lose several inches in stature as he stood 
 there. 
 
 His expression was peculiar. For a man who had 
 cut himself adrift from his own kind, to wallow in 
 native filth and cruelty, it was revolutionary. It ad 
 mitted, if only very faintly, the possibility of regret. 
 
 Then, without a word, he wheeled suddenly and 
 went out. 
 
 They heard him making his way along the deck; 
 heard him rouse the native engineer from his terror 
 ized stupor, and finally, with a slight preliminary jerk, 
 they felt that they were moving. 
 
 Miss Severoid looked at Davie and laughed.
 
 EMULATING CLAUDE DUVAL 21 
 
 "Very nice of him, don't you think so ?" 
 
 Davie's face said he wasn't sure, and he regarded 
 his companion as if he thought she might not be quite 
 sane. 
 
 "Bu-but, good Heavens! You don't know what 
 he's done!" 
 
 "What has he done? Let's sit down and you can 
 tell me all about it. I think his mouth is wicked, so I 
 am really prepared for anything you say." 
 
 And Davie, seeking very much to impress her in spite 
 of her "queerness," told her what he knew of Har- 
 mattan Clavering's deeds; lurid tales of daring and 
 disaster wreathed in smoke and dust and ashes and 
 blood, with the clatter of firearms, the yells of fiends ; 
 mystery and silence and darkness, all mingled together, 
 forming an appropriate background for the evil genius 
 who stalked across a stage of his own setting, like 
 Mephistopheles, in the garb of a gentleman. 
 
 Some of the stories Davie might have told had to be 
 omitted because his auditor was a lady, but the rest 
 were bad enough. Yet Miss Severoid listened, a little 
 paler of cheek perhaps, but showing none of the horror 
 befitting the occasion. 
 
 When Davie had exhausted his store of tales she 
 seemed hardly to be paying as much attention as she 
 might have. 
 
 She sat very still with her hands clasped in her lap, 
 evidently thinking deeply. 
 
 The Forcados commissioner's launch which Claver- 
 ing had come by in a manner Davie could easily 
 imagine was a large and speedy craft that, under the 
 outlaw's guidance, consumed distance and navigated 
 the winding, pitch-black creeks like a spirit of the dark 
 ness, trailing a light behind. 
 
 The Violet rocked and tumbled in her wake, and 
 Davie thought that the jolting, swaying motion, com-
 
 22 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 bined with the stories he had told, had made the Mis 
 sion Lady a little sick, since she was so unenthusiastic 
 and essayed no immediate comments upon the charac 
 ter of the man in the launch ahead. 
 
 He was on the point of suggesting the freer air of 
 the deck when she looked up at him and asked : 
 
 "You are sure all that is true? You really believe 
 that he has killed people in cold blood ?" 
 
 "Well, I'm only telling what I've heard," Davie de 
 fended. "I've never seen him do it, of course. But 
 McClure says a man can't pillage and plunder and live 
 as the Jackrie does without having to do some very 
 nasty /hings now and then to keep his grip. 
 
 "And fear is the only master these beasts know. 
 You can't treat them decently. They won't let you. 
 If you are good to them they think you are a fool 
 soft, you know and they'll walk all over you. A 
 punch on the jaw will put more Christianity into them 
 than the Lord's prayer." 
 
 Then Davie remembered that he was talking to a 
 mission lady. "Oh I er I beg pardon ! I forgot 
 that" 
 
 "I taught the Lord's prayer ? But that doctrine isn't 
 original with you, is it ? You are quoting the Mr. Mc 
 Clure you mentioned, are you not?" 
 
 "Well yes he said that," Davie admitted, color 
 ing; then added desperately: "But 1 know it's the 
 truth. Mac rarely says anything that isn't." 
 
 "I see. And what does Mr. McClure think of Mr. 
 Clavering?" 
 
 "He'd shoot him on sight." 
 
 "On principle, or for that five thousand Mr. Claver 
 ing spoke about?" 
 
 "Just for personal satisfaction, I fancy. Clavering 
 got away with a shipment of Marsden & Co.'s oil once, 
 and Mac's never forgotten it."
 
 ' 
 
 EMULATING CLAUDE DUVAL 23 
 
 Davie stooped, then got down on his knees to bur 
 row below the seat for his revolver. The Mission 
 Lady watched him quietly till he straightened, then 
 held out her hand. 
 
 "Give me that, please." 
 
 "Wh-what the revolver?" 
 
 "Yes, please." 
 
 Davie hesitated a moment, then handed the weapon 
 over to her in a mechanical fashion. 
 
 "Thank you," Miss Severoid acknowledged, and 
 made Davie gasp as she put the weapon into a small 
 leather hand-bag she carried. "I'm just afraid you are 
 too loyal to Mr. McClure to resist the temptation to be 
 discourteous to our host if the chance offered and 
 I've a suspicion that he'd shoot first and straighter, 
 anyway. So we'd better let him go this time, hadn't 
 we?" " 
 
 With a pleasant little smile, and, taking the hand 
 bag with her, she passed him and went out on deck. 
 
 Not at all sure of his attitude, Davie watched her 
 go; then followed hesitatingly, doubtful whether he 
 should or not. He stopped as he saw Miss Severoid 
 standing in the Violet's prow, looking straight ahead 
 at the shadowy outline of the leading launch. 
 
 He felt that he would be intruding if he joined her. 
 There was something in her fixed and motionless atti 
 tude which suggested that she wished to be alone. He 
 experienced an unpleasant sensation that he had sud 
 denly become a super in the little drama that was like 
 a page from the life of Claude DuvaL 
 
 Miss Severoid's conduct was even more surprising 
 than Clavering's cool intention to take them to Seg- 
 wanga, where the new-born consulate, a detachment of 
 native troops and police, and every trader on the creek 
 would welcome him with enough bullets to make a 
 sieve of him that is, if they knew he were coming.
 
 24 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 One expected Clavering to do spectacular things like 
 that. If he were to walk into the district commission 
 er's office and offer the D. C. a cigar, Davie would not 
 have been so surprised as he was while he contemplated 
 the Mission Lady's back and wondered what on earth 
 she was thinking about. 
 
 And as Davie watched and puzzled his young brain, 
 Segwanga was drawing nearer and nearer everv 
 moment. 
 
 Winding in and out, missing lazily moving native 
 canoes by a hairbreadth and causing their occupants to 
 call aloud for the protection of their river gods, plung 
 ing on through a darkness one might have cut with a 
 knife, with the bank of bush upon either side following 
 them relentlessly every inch of the way like a black 
 ghost, they finally whirled into the broad Segwanga 
 Creek. 
 
 Swaying a little with the motion of the launch, Miss 
 Severoid still stood in the Violet's prow, and Davie re 
 mained leaning against the rail, wondering what the 
 denouement might be. 
 
 Segwanga Creek was about half a mile wide. Upon 
 the left bank, stretching a little over a mile to the 
 Saganna curve, were the seven trading stations, the 
 consulate, and the mission. 
 
 First, and directly opposite the narrow creek from 
 which the launches emerged, was Carey & Co.'s "fac 
 tory" the origin of the word "factory" being some 
 what of a mystery, since none of the trading stations 
 ever manufactured anything. Then came Bates & 
 Mahler's, then Perkins & Gray's, then the mission, 
 which was separated from Marsden & Co.'s "beach" by 
 a small creek that was crossed by a rather indifferent 
 wooden bridge. 
 
 Beyond Marsden's was the consulate, a compara 
 tively recent addition to the settlement's importance;
 
 EMULATING CLAUDE DUVAL 25 
 
 and beyond that again came the African Produce Asso 
 ciation, and, lastly among the whites, the German rep 
 resentatives of Bach & Co., of Hamburg. 
 
 It was shortly after ten o'clock. 
 
 Hurricane lanterns, swinging idly in the hands of 
 patrolling watch-boys, could be seen moving to and 
 fro upon the water-front of every station. Dark 
 shapes of huge storage-houses loomed up behind them. 
 In the white men's living quarters always one flight 
 up to get away from white ants and the like shaded 
 oil-lamps shed their light upon the card-table, the 
 month-old newspaper, the weekly letter home, the 
 business report, or the meeting of congenial spirits in 
 a convivial mood. 
 
 Such meetings were constant, and were often fol 
 lowed by severe pains in the back of the head and a 
 vast consumption of quinin pills. 
 
 Viewed from the river, however, Segwanga was a 
 dark and dreary prospect. A few lights amid a bank 
 of gloom; spectral shapes of indistinct outbuildings; 
 the bobbing lights the watch-boys carried and silence. 
 
 Occasionally the echo of loud laughter came faintly 
 across the water, but that was all. Had Davie been 
 able to see the Mission Lady's face he might have ob 
 served her lips form a taut, pained line, and a tiny 
 handkerchief was carried surreptitiously up to her eyes, 
 to dab them with almost vicious impatience at her 
 weakness. 
 
 Clavering's launch or rather the one he had ac 
 quired made little sound, but he did not seem to care 
 whether it did or not. He steered directly and with 
 out any attempt at concealment to the little mission 
 wharf. 
 
 Running alongside it, he allowed the Violet to ease 
 in upon the tow-line till she, too, huddled against the 
 wharf close to the landing-steps.
 
 
 26 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Two watch-boys with insufficient lanterns hovered 
 like gnomes overhead, peering down at the mystery of 
 two launches, one of which carried no lights. 
 
 A colored maid chattered an endless stream of ques 
 tions behind them. The Rev. James Steel and his ex 
 tremely powerful wife were hurrying across the mis 
 sion beach to welcome their new assistant. 
 
 She had turned leisurely from her place in the Vio 
 let's prow and was dubiously considering the landing- 
 steps, tipon which Davie stood, ready to assist her over 
 the rail. 
 
 She put out her hand, and Davie had almost seized 
 it, when a soft, cat-like step sounded behind her. 
 
 Wheeling instantly, with a little gasp of surprise, 
 she felt herself suddenly swept into two steel-like arms 
 that held her powerless and apparently speechless, 
 too. 
 
 "My toll, Miss Severoid," Clavering whispered 
 softly, and in a second had tilted up her face so that 
 she looked straight into the glowing blackness of his 
 eyes. 
 
 She had a cat at home with eyes like that. 
 
 Davie stared and almost fell off the landing-steps. 
 
 But Clavering was in no hurry. He bent his head 
 very slowly, conscious of his strength; and he seemed 
 for a moment or two to be gloating over his victim's 
 physical weakness. 
 
 She did not struggle, though he could feel her 
 shrink in his grasp as his lips drew nearer and nearer 
 to her own. 
 
 Davie, powerless and frantic, whispered something 
 excitedly to one of the Kroo watch-1 >oys, who turned 
 and vanished. 
 
 The young man was on the point ot jumping from 
 the step to Miss Severoid's assistance when he saw 
 Clavering' s head jerk upward and heard him give vent
 
 27 
 
 to a short, sharp oath that died in a breathless silence, 
 as the outlaw clapped his hand to his belt where his 
 revolver should have been. 
 
 Miss Severoid had it, and the point of the barrel 
 was pressing uncomfortably into his ribs. 
 
 But Davie did not see that. He could not under 
 stand why Clavering did not kiss his "prisoner." 
 
 "Turn !" she said very quietly. 
 
 Clavering did not move ; not even the left arm that 
 was wound about her shoulders. 
 
 In the dim light it was almost impossible for those 
 on the wharf to know what was happening, and for a 
 few brief seconds the two were a world unto them 
 selves. Davie's white, open-mouthed countenance, the 
 dusky faces above the flickering hurricane lights, the 
 approaching footsteps of the missionary and his wife, 
 were things apart. 
 
 Clavering smiled and murmured: 
 
 "A gray hag in Walla's town told me once that a 
 woman would one day lead me to the nearest mango- 
 tree with a good thick rope. Just move that gun an 
 inch or so higher and shoot. I'd hate hanging sure 
 of it." 
 
 "Remove your arm and turn/* came the passionless 
 command. 
 
 "Which way?" 
 
 "Toward your launch." 
 
 "Oh I see!" The arm slipped slowly from Miss 
 Severoid's shoulder, and Clavering laughed oddly. 
 "Thanks, very much. You are a wonderful woman !" 
 
 Suddenly a bell on the mission beach rang furiously, 
 and kept on ringing. Davie, still confused, leaped up 
 the steps, plunged past the missionary and his wife, 
 and vanished toward an avenue of cocoanut-palms and 
 the little wooden bridge leading to Marsden's beach. 
 
 Other bells began to ring their answer, one by one;
 
 28 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 a clamor of sound that was deafening after so deep a 
 silence. 
 
 Men's voices leaped into abrupt, shouting life, and 
 one could hear the padding of many feet upon the 
 greasy chicoco as the settlement answered the call of 
 the mission bell's alarm. 
 
 Clavering marched along the Violet's deck ahead of 
 Miss Severoid without altering his pace; climbed into 
 the Forcados commissioner's launch, turned and 
 bowed, and called back amiably out of the murk : 
 
 'Thank you again. Apologies are useless, I sup 
 pose. Au revoir!" 
 
 "Good-by !" There was no life in it. 
 
 The revolver spun through the darkness and clat 
 tered to the deck at Clavering's feet, and Miss Sever 
 oid, tight-lipped and white as chalk, turned in leisurely 
 fashion toward the steps again. There the missionary 
 and his wife, all unconscious of what she had done, 
 awaited her with welcoming arms. 
 
 Before she reached them Clavering and his launch 
 had slipped out from the wharf, and by the time she 
 had, with the missionary's assistance, negotiated a safe 
 landing the outlaw was lost in the darkness of mid 
 stream. 
 
 The siren screamed blatant defiance once, twice, 
 thrice and wailed dismally into silence. 
 
 And though Segwanga, to a man, searched for him 
 with every available launch on the river, into the gray 
 of the morning, it did not find him. 
 
 But then it had not expected to. 
 
 The harmattan had made but one more claim to his 
 title.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE MESSENGER 
 
 SEGWANGA talked of Clavering's latest caper and of 
 the new Mission Lady's rather hazy share in it for sev 
 eral days, till the sacking of an oil-yard at Saganna 
 gave the community something else to chalk up against 
 the irrepressible outlaw. 
 
 That was Clavering's way. He rarely gave the 
 public time to get properly acquainted with one sur 
 prise before he furnished it with another. 
 
 Upon the day following her eventful arrival Miss 
 Severoid returned Davie Tait's revolver with an apolo 
 getic note that concluded whimsically : 
 
 "I feel as if I owe you five thousand pounds." 
 
 Remembering the opportunity he had had while 
 standing upon the mission wharf steps, Davie, who 
 had not admitted the cause of his defenseless condition 
 to any one, felt that she was right. But he murmured 
 "Rats!" quite manfully, and tried to forget about it. 
 Not the five thousand pounds, but Miss Severoid. 
 
 Which was not so easy as it seemed. 
 
 Apart from the note to Davie, Miss Severoid said 
 nothing. That is, nothing of importance, not even to 
 the missionary and his wife, who, of course, plied her 
 with natural and pertinent questions upon the matter. 
 
 She said she had been "terribly frightened." But, 
 naively admitting that since the experience was safely 
 over she would not have missed it for worlds, she pro 
 ceeded apparently to set her mind and energies to the 
 business of becoming thoroughly acquainted with the 
 
 29
 
 30 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 routine of missionary work and with her immediate 
 surroundings. 
 
 The latter were rather enervating, though the mis 
 sion-house, built of galvanized iron and lined with 
 pitch-pine, was a modest and comfortable residence, 
 to which she took kindly. 
 
 But the mission hall was a dreary sort of place 
 another galvanized iron structure that became intol 
 erably hot as the blinding tropical sun beat unmerci 
 fully down upon it. 
 
 There was a mud hut of large dimensions at the 
 rear of the clearing, and, though the native help had 
 had more civilized quarters erected for them imme 
 diately behind the mission-house, the majority of them 
 preferred the mud hut. 
 
 It was a small clearing; much smaller than any of 
 the trading beaches, all of which had been solidified by 
 chicoco, which is a greasy, peatlike clay that proves 
 excellent material for the purpose of converting 
 swamps into habitable ground. 
 
 The mission was bounded on the right and rear by 
 the sullen, unchanging bush, and upon the front and 
 left by water. Beyond the bank, of green on the 
 right, and reached by a bush-path scarcely broader than 
 the sole of a flat, native foot, lay Perkins & Gray's, 
 and upon the left, by way of an avenue of coconut- 
 palms and across the little wooden bridge that spanned 
 the narrow creek already referred to, was Marsden & 
 Co.'s, the largest and busiest trading station in the set 
 tlement. 
 
 Miss Severoid could see it from her corner of the 
 mission veranda; the long, squat kernel-house in the 
 foreground, and the large, two-storied residence, built 
 upon raised ground behind it ; the shop on the ground 
 floor, the white living quarters above. 
 
 Another huge storehouse that stretched almost from
 
 THE MESSENGER 31 
 
 the concrete breakwater to the consulate boundary line 
 contained everything from Chicago canned meats to 
 coffins. The former not infrequently led to the latter. 
 
 All the buildings were of galvanized iron and 
 painted a soft green. 
 
 To the left of the storehouse was a great roofed 
 yard, rilled with lumber and empty casks; and casks 
 that were filled with oil and earthenware and ships' 
 biscuits. 
 
 Three coopers and two carpenters from Accra were 
 kept busy from dawn to darkness, and two young white 
 men, whom Miss Severoid did not know, seemed to be 
 incessantly moving about the beach, paying out cargo, 
 purchasing oil or rubber, or attending to the thousand 
 and one sweltering little details that fall to the lot of 
 the beach clerk. 
 
 She could see the pack of canoes, laden with produce 
 or filled with "pay," huddling the concrete breakwater, 
 while their owners, with their women and boys, 
 swarmed upon the beach like black ants. Sometimes 
 she caught sight of Davie Tait buying kernels in the 
 smothering heat of the kernel-house. 
 
 But it was to a punkah-cooled corner of Marsden & 
 Co.'s veranda that her attention most frequently drift 
 ed the corner overlooking the river, and which was 
 shaded by the leafy expanse of a great mango-tree that 
 reared its broad head past the veranda and tried to peep 
 over the roof. 
 
 In that shady corner, fanned by an artificial zephyr 
 produced by a gently swinging punkah, she saw a giant 
 of a man, who rarely left a great Madeira chair, parley 
 like an East Indian nabob with all sorts and conditions 
 of natives, and with the air of one accustomed to being 
 feared and respected and always obeyed. 
 
 The Madeira chair seemed to be a sort of judgment- 
 seat, and the big man's decisions, whatever they were
 
 32 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 about, were evidently accepted as final. Miss Sever- 
 oid watched him interestedly and guessed that he was 
 McClure the man who would shoot Clavering on 
 sight. 
 
 After distantly studying his movements for a while 
 she finally believed he would. 
 
 Her work was novel and interesting; the natives 
 queer, half clothed, and childish. They came to the 
 mission hall in motley swarms, regarded her with gap 
 ing intentness, and jabbered among themselves their 
 conclusions regarding her. 
 
 They appeared to have a deep-seated respect for the 
 Rev. James Steel, who was a tall, gaunt, kindly man, of 
 very few words. His wife, almost as tall and much 
 larger, was even more kindly and certainly more talka 
 tive. With her husband she had been in several parts 
 of the West Coast for a number of years, ignoring the 
 woman's usual privilege of going home during the 
 rainy season. 
 
 The deadly, fever-laden climate actually seemed to 
 agree with her. 
 
 She "adopted" Miss Severoid at once, and some 
 times during that first week, surreptitiously studying 
 the new assistant's strong and beautiful face, the 
 kindly soul's eyes became sad. She told her husband 
 in strictest confidence as they were seated in their 
 private corner of the mission veranda one evening that 
 she was afraid Miss Severoid was not the type for the 
 work they had to do. 
 
 "She is too beautiful, James. They'll be gaping at 
 her face instead of paying attention to their letters. I 
 saw our Beau Brummel hanging about the hall door 
 yesterday morning just before school hour, and he 
 actually ogled at the girl as we passed him. He was 
 there again this morning. I shouldn't be surprised to
 
 THE MESSENGER 33 
 
 find him in the class to-morrow, even though he is a 
 chief/' 
 
 The missionary lowered a month-old newspaper an 
 inch or two, and looked over the top of his glasses at 
 his wife. 
 
 "Chief Cralla of Akerri, you mean?" 
 
 "Of course ! And looking more spick and span than 
 ever. Miss Severoid asked who he was, and this morn 
 ing seemed anxious to talk to him. There is something 
 queer and uncanny about her something mysterious. 
 She is too quiet. There is something going on behind 
 those big, blue eyes of hers incessantly, and when she 
 looks at me at me, James, and I'm an old woman 
 I feel weak, positively her inferior in everything. 
 Haven't you noticed it ?" 
 
 "Nonsense, Martha!" the missionary deprecated, 
 but his tone lacked conviction. "She's only a child." 
 
 "Child, fiddlesticks! She's twenty-five if she's a 
 day a woman of experience, and a beautiful one, with 
 a will of her own. She'll have Segwanga at her feet 
 before a month is gone, and it won't be the least bit of 
 a novelty to her either. She's accustomed to it. Any 
 one can see that. When she took tifBn with us this 
 afternoon, you asked her three times if she had had 
 any sugar and you never were that absent-minded 
 over me in your life !" 
 
 Steel laughed and, putting his paper quietly aside, 
 groped in the semi-darkness of a green-shaded reading- 
 lamp for his wife's wonderfully soft but serviceable 
 hand and, finding it, sat very still and quiet. 
 
 The watch-boy, passing with a scuffling gait below 
 the veranda, sang a plaintive three-lined dirge to the 
 moon. Chief Cralla's great canoe, with a native grass- 
 mat awning overhead, dipped down the silver, glinting
 
 34 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 river toward Akerri, to the rhythmic swish of forty 
 paddles. 
 
 And Miss Severoid, who had retired to her rooms 
 upon the other side of the house after dinner, upon the 
 plea of having letters to write, lay at full length, face 
 downward, upon her bed, crushing a small, white piece 
 of paper in her hand. 
 
 It had come through her open windows barely fif 
 teen minutes before, and the note read : 
 
 You most wonderful of women, this is true homage, and in 
 spite of a certain prophecy I told you of 1 am tempting fate 
 again and you. The freedom you gifted me is of little impor 
 tance to me if it is of no interest to you what I do with it. 
 
 Why did you let me go free? 
 
 If there is any answer to that question, Chief Cralla is my 
 friend, and yours. G. C. 
 
 Miss Severoid did not sleep very well that night. 
 
 Next morning, a little paler than usual, returning to 
 her rooms after breakfasting with the missionary and 
 his wife, she glanced expectantly out of her windows 
 at the jabbering, shuffling mob of natives who, in their 
 multi-colored best, were gathering by way of Mars- 
 den's and the little wooden bridge to attend the morn 
 ing class. 
 
 The majority of them came with childlike curiosity, 
 always expecting something new and startling. Then, 
 when the class was over and they had learned the 
 eighth commandment once more, they would disperse 
 to the several trading beaches and instinctively steal 
 what they could. 
 
 In the midst of that greasy crew, resplendent in sun- 
 helmet and white flannel coat, with a gorgeous skirted 
 cloth trailing behind him, Chief Cralla strode majes 
 tically toward the mission hall. 
 
 Time and again he had to stop and accept the kneel 
 ing obeisance which is the due of a chief when greeted
 
 THE MESSENGER 35 
 
 by the smaller fry among his people. Miss Severoid, 
 watching him, seemed to be weighing him carefully in 
 the balance. 
 
 When she turned and went slowly to her little writ 
 ing-table, her eyes had no warmth in them. Deliber 
 ately, as though she was signing some one's death- 
 warrant, she wrote upon a single sheet of thin, foreign 
 note-paper : 
 
 Isn't it rather cowardly to ask me to answer any questions 
 through a colored medium of Chief Cralla's type? 
 
 Suppose, for instance, some one were to see me give this note 
 to him? But then, men rarely do think of the woman's danger. 
 They are too busy planning to evade their own. 
 
 I am sorry you are such a disappointment. Good-by. 
 
 Without even initialing it, she rolled it up into a little 
 ball and went back to the windows. She caught the 
 watchful, oily chief's eye almost immediately, and 
 though others saw her there, and grimaced up at her 
 and greeted her in Jackrie over and over again, like 
 this : "Doh doh-doh doh doh," none but Cralla 
 understood what she meant when she tossed a small, 
 white pellet a few inches into the air and caught it 
 again. 
 
 She did that several times. When she was sure 
 that Cralla really understood, she donned her helmet, 
 joined Mrs. Steel and went sedately with her toward 
 the mission hall. 
 
 The chief's tawny, un-ethiopian face was wreathed 
 in a bland Ethiopian smile as they approached, and he 
 doffed his helmet as to the manner born, displaying the 
 dignity of his gray head until they had passed. 
 
 Mrs. Steel was plainly disturbed, and Miss Severoid, 
 glancing into Cralla's face for a second, looked quickly 
 away also disturbed. His eyes frightened her a lit 
 tle. They were so black and shifty and covetous, and 
 the puttylike lumps on his forehead and cheeks looked
 
 36 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 more prominent and unsightly than ever. In fact, she 
 had hardly noticed them before. 
 
 But for all her distrust, a small, white paper pellet 
 dropped unostentatiously at his naked feet, and his left 
 foot slid over it instantly, but without haste. 
 
 For a few moments, still following Miss Severoid's 
 trim figure with half-closed eyes, his toes worked con 
 vulsively. 
 
 Then, with an expressive Jackrie grunt of satisfac 
 tion, he shuffled away, leaving no pellet behind him.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 IN SEARCH OF PROTECTION 
 
 THAT afternoon, in the cool of the day after four 
 o'clock, Davie Tait was standing at the kernel-house 
 door, idly watching his two kernel-boys, in shameful 
 nakedness, chasing a mango-fly with their loin-cloths. 
 
 Mango-flies have to be chased, or they will sting and 
 lay their eggs under one's skin; and the eggs, in the 
 natural course of events, hatch which is a painful 
 process for the stung. 
 
 A group of small, native traders squatted under the 
 kernel-house awning counting their pay for produce 
 they had sold earlier in the day. The pay consisted of 
 piece-cloth, gin, iron cooking-pots, rice, salt, and other 
 necessities of life, which would be sold the following 
 day at the native markets and once more converted, at 
 a profit, into palm-nut kernels, palm oil, or rubber. 
 
 The group, evidently composed of a "pool," was 
 having difficulty in arriving at a division satisfactory 
 to all parties, and they jabbered and screeched and 
 gesticulated at one another, always seeming on the 
 point of a fight. 
 
 Lack of an adequate vocabulary made it necessary 
 for them to use their hands and lungs to the best pos 
 sible advantage so as to make their meaning quite 
 clear. 
 
 Apart from the group a mother was industriously 
 shaving the top of a small, wool-covered head with a 
 very poor razor, indulging her artistic fancy by block 
 ing out her offspring's hair into oddly shaped tufts that 
 
 37
 
 38 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 reminded Davie of the trimming of a French poodle. 
 The child, little more than an infant in arms, was bawl 
 ing lusty objection, to which no one paid any heed. 
 
 Several Kroo boys, the laborers of the trading sta 
 tions, acted as scavengers, clearing the beach of refuse 
 after the day's business. The canoes moored under 
 the lea of 'the breakwater had thinned out until Davie 
 could easily have counted them. 
 
 A few black and native waifs were enjoying a swim 
 in the swift-running creek, using the oil wharf as a 
 diving-board. As one of them, swinging out over the 
 water at the end of the hoisting-chain of the hand- 
 crane, dangled and capered like his near relative the 
 monkey, then dropped with a blood-curdling yell and 
 a splash on top of a hapless companion, Davie saw a 
 trim figure in white emerge from the palm grove lead 
 ing to the mission beach and step across the little wood 
 en bridge. 
 
 The oil clerk, coming from the yard behind the 
 wharf at that moment, paused to remonstrate forcibly 
 with the bathing urchins for tampering with his hand- 
 crane. He used both tongue and feet to rapid and 
 effective advantage, his language making dark-blue 
 incisions in the sultry atmosphere. 
 
 Then, glancing toward the bridge, he stopped quite 
 suddenly and his thin, fever-yellowed face took on a 
 deep-red hue that spread below the soft collar of his 
 shirt and to the roots of what little hair his stuffy pith 
 helmet had allowed him to keep. He vanished hur 
 riedly into the oil yard again and lost himself in a 
 maze of lumber and casks, while a big, sandy-haired 
 man, leaning over the rail of the house veranda above 
 the shop, grinned and departed hastily to the Madeira 
 chair in the mango-shaded corner overlooking the river. 
 
 As for Davie, he instantly wished he had put on the 
 gray-flannel trousers his boy had laid out for him at
 
 IN SEARCH OF PROTECTION 39 
 
 noon. The white ducks he wore were disreputably 
 streaked with oil and black with kernel dust, and his 
 serviceable working shirt had just that afternoon be 
 come partly separated from its neckband in a rumpus 
 with a husky kernel thief whom Davie's accurate right 
 foot had finally precipitated into the river. 
 
 Altogether the young man felt uncomfortably dirty, 
 and Miss Severoid looked exactly the reverse. 
 
 Her helmet had been put aside for the day. A broad- 
 brimmed panama had taken its place and, in white 
 from head to foot, with the faintest touch of color at 
 her throat, she would have been as fascinatingly con 
 spicuous in a crowd. 
 
 Alone, and the only young white woman within 
 Heaven only knew how many miles, she was raised 
 upon a pedestal instinctively and at once. 
 
 Watching her approach, and coloring behind the 
 dust and streaking perspiration-marks that gave his 
 face a "working" appearance, Davie was quite sure 
 that he loved her, or would very soon. But when, 
 smiling sweetly and bowing from afar, she went right 
 on to the stairs leading up to the house veranda, he felt 
 an unaccountable desire to sit down. 
 
 It was a terrible disappointment, and Davie felt it so 
 keenly that, before he was aware of it, he was discours 
 ing to himself upon the ingratitude and fickleness of 
 womankind, of whom Miss Severoid was no better 
 than her sisters. 
 
 A very small and very shiny black person met Miss 
 Severoid at the top of the veranda stairs. His name 
 was Agigi, and his age was as much of a mystery as his 
 smooth baby face that glowed with innocence or, as the 
 occasion sometimes demanded, became splendid in 
 haughty indifference. 
 
 He was McClure's special henchman a child valet 
 who could serve a liqueur at a look or guard his mas-
 
 40 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 ter's privacy against any onslaught by a mere shake of 
 the head. 
 
 In Miss SeveroicTs case, in spite of the orders he had 
 received, he hesitated. She was outside his experience, 
 and his black, cherubic face looked troubled. 
 
 Then he came to himself and nodded and smiled ! 
 
 Which was revolutionary. 
 
 Agigi had never so far forgotten himself as to smile 
 upon a visitor before. As he led Miss Severoid along 
 the veranda and around to the shady corner overlook 
 ing the river he seemed rather crestfallen and ashamed. 
 
 Daniel McClure uncurled himself from his Madeira 
 chair and stood waiting as his visitor, light of foot, 
 came into view. 
 
 He was a big, broad man of an exceptionally pow 
 erful build, and his parents had been Scotch-Irish. 
 But since he had been born on a tramp steamer some 
 where between Cape Town and Bombay, and had since 
 lived under almost every flag of any consequence, he 
 was a citizen of the world a cosmopolite who had an 
 equal acquaintance with the Avenue de 1'Opera and the 
 Bowery, with Bond Street and the squalor of Port 
 Said, with the wharves of Shanghai and the torpid 
 mysteries of the Amazon. 
 
 He dwarfed the majority of men, mentally as well 
 as physically, not because he had gathered his knowl 
 edge of people and things in the quiet of a university, 
 but because he had seen most of what he knew with his 
 own cold-gray eyes. 
 
 No one would have accused him of the crime of 
 pulchritude. But his nose was straight and lean 
 enough, his heavy, sandy mustache well trimmed, 
 his massive jaw clean shaven, his teeth strong and 
 white and good. His glance, though habitually lazy 
 and cold, held an illusive twinkle that hinted at the 
 possibility of the world being a constant source of
 
 IN SEARCH OF PROTECTION 41 
 
 amusement to him an amusement he seemed to accept 
 rather contemptuously. 
 
 But when he did smile, it was a broad, glistening 
 affair, altogether genuine. 
 
 He gave an instant impression of things large and 
 worth while; a man who, by reason of his long and 
 powerful arms and the breadth of his shoulders, seemed 
 capable of lifting obstacles from his path rather than 
 climbing over them. And his riotous crown of sandy 
 hair acted as a sort of beacon-light of warning to any 
 one who might seek to run foul of his wrath. 
 
 In spite of all that, however, the moment he caught 
 sight of Miss Severoid's face his jaw sagged a little 
 and he stared at her foolishly, as though he doubted his 
 eyesight. 
 
 But only for a moment. As she came nearer he 
 bowed and smiled. 
 
 "Miss Severoid, I presume. My assistant, Mr. Tait, 
 told me a little about you. My name is McClure." 
 
 Miss Severoid returned his smile and looked stead 
 ily up at him as Agigi, with a puzzled expression upon 
 his face, sauntered back to his post. 
 
 "And Mr. Tait told me about you," she said in a low 
 voice. "I hope I am not intruding upon your leisure 
 hours. I came to pay our bill and to become ac 
 quainted." 
 
 "Thank you. Won't you sit down ?" 
 
 McClure bowed toward a chair, and Miss Severoid 
 accepted it with another sweet smile. 
 
 "People who bring money never intrude at any 
 time," he went on, "but I appreciate it doubly this 
 time, since it affords me the opportunity of knowing 
 you. And now that I've said the proper thing, what 
 is the proper thing to do ? Offer you tea ?" 
 
 "No, thanks." Another smile. "I've just had tif 
 fin. Are you a stickler for form, Mr. McClure?
 
 42 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Some one on the steamer coming out told me that 
 traders were a rough sort of crowd but you don't 
 look at all rough. Perhaps you are the exception 
 that" 
 
 "No, I'm afraid not," deliberately. "I am in this 
 business for the material purpose of making money 
 and I'm doing it. I have but one ambition meantime, 
 and that is to buy at the lowest price I can more oil 
 and rubber and kernels than any other two firms on the 
 river. I am doing that, too. 
 
 "I leave sociology and uplift and government to 
 those who are paid to attend to them. Perhaps I am 
 helping to develop the native's business sense but I 
 don't think that is necessary. And I do not care for 
 the generalities of steamer-deck critics. They are 
 usually young or inexperienced or drunk. Did you 
 have a pleasant trip?" 
 
 Miss Severoid leaned back in her chair and, laugh 
 ing softly, fixed McClure with a quiet, penetrating look 
 that was uncomfortable. 
 
 "How much is the bill, please?" she asked simply. 
 
 "Er eh just a moment. Boy !" 
 
 His thunderous voice, in lieu of a bell, echoed and 
 reechoed, and had scarcely died away when a surly- 
 looking black steward appeared and stood at atten 
 tion. 
 
 "Ask Mr. Gilmore to give you the mission bill for 
 the month. I'm waiting." 
 
 "Yessah." 
 
 The boy vanished and proceeded down-stairs to the 
 shop beneath, passing Chief Cralla on the way. 
 
 Agigi, who was not visible from the shady corner, 
 sat on the top step of the stairs, motionless as a little 
 black god, with a changeless look of simplicity upon 
 his face. 
 
 Cralla reached him and grumbled something in Jack-
 
 IN SEARCH OF PROTECTION 43 
 
 rie that deprecated Agigi's duty and station, but the 
 boy shook his head mournfully. The chief, though 
 his eyes blazed and his tongue searched for adequate 
 expletives, went no farther. 
 
 He knew better. Once upon a time a Jackrie of 
 large importance had scorned Agigi's edict, and Mc- 
 Clure had thrown him down-stairs again on his head. 
 Cralla evidently did not care for that sort of recrea 
 tion, so he sat down on the second step from the top 
 and waited. 
 
 "Find your new work interesting?" McClure asked 
 his visitor after several indifferently successful attempts 
 to make conversation and watching her face more 
 closely than he knew. 
 
 "Oh, yes. Everything is so queer and different." 
 
 "Including friend Clavering? Handsome, dare 
 devil sort of chap, isn't he ? I've never met him." 
 
 "Well," musingly, "I did not think he was so very 
 handsome. His mouth was too wicked. But he had 
 a certain sort of fascination that was well disturb 
 ing. It was an interesting experience." 
 
 "Yes, I judge it must have been. Clavering is a host 
 in himself. I'd like" with a grim, elusive smile "to 
 meet him." 
 
 "Would you ? What would you do if you did ?" 
 
 "Shoot him," very quietly and convincingly. 
 
 "Really!" Miss Severoid eyed McClure till his 
 glance wavered and shifted. Then with a quiet little 
 smile she asked softly: "Are you sure he would not 
 shoot first?" 
 
 McClure threw his head back and grinned. 
 
 "Well, yes, he might. Now that you mention it, I 
 think it would be rather interesting to know whether 
 he is the faster at that game." 
 
 Miss Severoid sat up a little and stopped twisting 
 the soft leather handle of her hand-bag.
 
 44 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "You mean you think you are? In a battle of wits 
 and bullets you would not be afraid of him?" 
 
 The trader caught the faintest hint of anxiety in her 
 tone, and it puzzled him. 
 
 "No. Why do you ask? Do you think I might 
 be?" 
 
 And Miss Severoid's eyes became softly apologetic, 
 then a little furtive, then pleaded as plainly as they 
 could plead for a strong man's protection. 
 
 "No, I didn't think so," she said in a whispering 
 voice. "I was sure you wouldn't be. That's why I 
 wanted to to come here to-day and tell you that he 
 he's bothering me." 
 
 A harsh sound emanated from the depths of Mc- 
 Clure's great body and he half rose out of his chair. 
 
 "Sh!" Miss Severoid cautioned, and, leaning over, 
 laid a restraining hand upon his arm a touch that 
 startled him quite as much as her confession and made 
 him sink back into his chair again docile just look 
 ing at her. 
 
 Davie Tait had done the same thing. 
 
 "You mustn't!" she pleaded softly. "Not yet. I 
 couldn't tell Mr. and Mrs. Steel, somehow. I'm afraid 
 they'd be horribly shocked. And I don't want people 
 to begin talking about things they don't understand. 
 You know, I can see you sitting here from my veranda. 
 Perhaps you've noticed me ?" 
 
 McClure nodded in a strange helplessness he did not 
 understand. He knew perfectly well that it was not 
 hypnotism. He was tingling pleasantly from head to 
 foot. 
 
 "Well," the soft, dulcet voice went on, "I have been 
 watching you have seen how big and imperious you 
 are, and and, oh ! you've been just like a a raja or 
 something like that, sitting in that big chair ordering 
 everybody about. And people seemed to be so very
 
 IN SEARCH OF PROTECTION 45 
 
 respectful, I thought you must be big in mind as well 
 as body, and when his note came, and I got so terribly 
 frightened, I well I just thought of you at once. 
 Was I right?" 
 
 Her ringers tightened upon his coat-sleeve, and as he 
 felt their nervous pressure he had a keener apprecia 
 tion of his strength. He did not tell her that most of 
 his raj alike attitude was plain haggling with the native 
 traders over the price he was willing to pay them for 
 their produce. 
 
 And she was such a little woman, too so soft and 
 gentle, with a motherliness in her eyes and about her 
 mouth that carried him back years and years to a time 
 when 
 
 "Was I right ?" she pleaded again anxiously. 
 
 McClure gave a faint start. 
 
 "Miss Severoid, I am honored, and I shall be glad 
 to help you and, if necessary, protect you with all the 
 powers at my command. Your confidence is perfectly 
 safe with me with none safer." 
 
 Listening to the sound of his own voice, he marveled 
 at his volubility. 
 
 "Oh, I'm so glad, and I believe in you! You see, 
 this is a terrible place, and " 
 
 "It is a terrible place, and it is no place for a 
 woman " 
 
 He was going to say "like you," but he thought bet 
 ter of it, and asked: "You say you had a note. 
 When?" 
 
 "Last night. It came into my room through the 
 open window ; and I couldn't find out who had thrown 
 it in. It frightened me, and and I don't think I'm 
 such a terrible coward." 
 
 "No woman who comes out here alone is a coward," 
 McClure assured her quietly. "Might I ask what was 
 in the note ?"
 
 46 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "Oh, nothing much. I tore it up. He he said 
 that is, he asked me why I had not let him kiss me that 
 night I arrived. You know, he tried to." 
 
 McClure's jaws tightened slowly. 
 
 There were a few moments of silence in which the 
 lazy buzz of life on the beach below came up to them. 
 Miss Severoid twisted a small handkerchief round and 
 round her finger, and the trader watched her with a 
 black cloud of wrath hanging over his eyes. 
 
 "You did not answer the note, of course?" 
 
 Miss Severoid looked up, startled. The shuffling 
 feet of the steward warned them of his approach. 
 
 "Gracious, no!" she whispered in horror, then 
 smiled. "How could I, even if I wanted to? I 
 shouldn't know where to send it." 
 
 The steward turned the corner with the mission- 
 house bill.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 SIGNALS 
 
 THE bill was paid and the usual weekly order for 
 provisions sent down to the shop clerk to be filled. As 
 Miss Severoid folded the receipt and placed it in her 
 hand-bag, McClure stood looking down at her quiz 
 zically, wondering if, in spite of her fear of Clavering, 
 she really appreciated the unscrupulous character of the 
 man. 
 
 That she had come to him McClure for protection 
 and advice was a wonderfully soothing thought. But 
 he was not at all certain of the extent of the protection 
 he might be permitted to afford. 
 
 "Do you think it likely that he will be persistent?" 
 he asked quietly, and knew the answer better than his 
 guest. 
 
 "I don't know," she answered doubtfully. "I hope 
 not. What on earth am I to do if he is?" 
 
 "Ignore him, of course, to begin with. Let me post 
 two good Kroo boys somewhere on the Mission Beach, 
 where they could see and not be seen. I mean at night. 
 No, no, you mustn't be frightened," he reproved gently 
 as Miss Severoid's eyes timidly searched his face. "I 
 know it isn't easy, but I hardly think you are in any 
 real physical danger. If you'd let me post two boys 
 just where I want them I could arrange signals and " 
 
 "No, please I that is I don't want any one else 
 to know not even Kroo boys. Could couldn't I 
 arrange signals with you? I am not really afraid of 
 Mr. Clavering, but I'd just like to feel that there was 
 
 47
 
 48 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 some one who could help me in case I I needed it. 
 Don't you understand? Please try to, because I have 
 a horror of people getting to know about it, and talking 
 behind my back in whispers as if but you understand, 
 don't you?" 
 
 McClure thought he did, but when she looked at him 
 like that he was not sure of anything. 
 
 The sound of Jackrie gutturals came from the top 
 of the stairs, and a heavy foot pounded down them 
 disgustedly. Cralla had grown tired of waiting. 
 
 Agigi sat on, unsmiling and undisturbed. 
 
 McClure dug his hands deep into his pockets, glanced 
 toward the river and the straggling canoes upon it. 
 Then meeting Miss Severoid's anxious look he said 
 quietly : 
 
 "I think I do, and in a community as small as this is, 
 with life pretty much the same dreary grind from day 
 to day, I'm afraid men become gossipy. What sort 
 of signals would you suggest ?" 
 
 "Oh thank you!" 
 
 The burst of gratefulness was very soft and very 
 real. It made McClure fidget and study the river 
 again. 
 
 "I knew you would understand, and and you're 
 very good to me. I wish " She stopped, tugged at 
 the handkerchief nervously, then went on hurriedly : 
 
 "I have two lamps one with just a plain white 
 shade and the other green. You can see them from 
 here at least I think you can, because I can see yours. 
 I usually light both of them, and I'll put the green light 
 nearest the windows that look out on the veranda. If 
 you see it go out and the white light in the other room 
 continues burning for a while after, you'll know it's all 
 right. But if the white light goes out first, you'll come 
 at once, won't you ?"
 
 SIGNALS 49 
 
 "Quicker than that," McClure declared without a 
 smile. "It is good of you to trust me like this, and I 
 hope I shall not fail you. I also hope you will try not 
 to tet this thing bother you too much. Clavering is a 
 cold-blooded, unscrupulous hound, but I really do be 
 lieve he is still in one or two respects a gentleman. 
 Think you can remember that?'' 
 
 Miss Severoid studied him a moment or two doubt 
 fully. 
 
 "I'll try but do you know that you are treating me 
 like a child?" Her eyes and lips smiled tormentingly 
 at him as she quickly rose. "But I'm old enough to 
 appreciate it. Now I must run, or Mrs. Steel will 
 think I am kidnaped." 
 
 McClure hardly moved, and Miss Severoid's smile 
 wavered a little, then drifted away. She looked fright 
 ened, as a child does when it is not sure whether its 
 mother is pleased or saddened by something it has done. 
 
 "Why what's wrong?" she whispered. "Why do 
 you look at me like that?" 
 
 The trader started slightly. He was rather bewil 
 dered, and mumbled something unintelligible as he 
 moved suddenly toward the stairs. Miss Severoid 
 had to run a few steps to catch up with his long, heavy 
 strides. 
 
 "Good-by," he said simply, "and thank you!" 
 
 "Thank you," Miss Severoid corrected sweetly. 
 "And it isn't quite good-by, is it?" 
 
 A smile, a look, the soft, fleeting touch of her hand, 
 and she was gone. 
 
 McClure spun upon his heel and walked right into 
 his office, to stop in the center of the floor and look 
 about him guiltily. Then he threw his head back, and 
 his clenched right hand sank with a resounding smack 
 into the palm of his left.
 
 50 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "Lord, what a woman ! What a woman !" 
 
 He paced the floor, muttering to himself for a while, 
 then suddenly yelled for a boy. 
 
 There was no immediate answer. 
 
 "Boy! Where the devil Oh, you here, eh? All 
 right. Whisky-and-soda one time !" 
 
 Agigi glanced interrogatively up at his master a 
 pygmy beside a giant. McClure had never looked quite 
 like that before, and as the boy went out to obey he 
 shot a quick, comprehensive glance over the veranda 
 rail toward the little wooden bridge, where a trim fig 
 ure in white walked leisurely a few careful feet be 
 hind Chief Cralla. 
 
 The child-valet shrugged his narrow shoulders and 
 vanished into the shadows of the "saloon," as the great 
 dining-room was called. The term had a nautical 
 origin, just as the floor was always called the "deck" 
 and the kitchen the "galley." 
 
 McClure turned suddenly toward his library table 
 and, unlocking the drawer, drew therefrom, after a 
 minute's rummaging, a photograph he had found 
 among the vanished Ralph Debenham's belongings a 
 photograph he had feloniously kept for no particular 
 reason except that the face fascinated him. 
 
 It was that of a lady in the guise of a shepherdess 
 of a bygone day ; but whether she had been in musical 
 comedy or simply at a masquerade was difficult to say. 
 The card was unsigned. 
 
 Holding it in his hands and studying the beautiful 
 face line for line, with a look upon his own that was 
 almost greedy, McClure muttered heavily : 
 
 "Wonder what the devil she's up to, playing shep 
 herdess across the way !" 
 
 Chief Cralla, apparently unconscious of Miss Sever- 
 oid's presence behind him, strode across the *ttle
 
 SIGNALS 51 
 
 wooden bridge with his usual majesty, and passed on 
 into the short avenue of palms that led to the door of 
 the mission hall. 
 
 Save for a weary-footed mammy, her baby hunched 
 on her back like a Scotch fishwife's creel, the avenue 
 was deserted. The mammy was trudging on ahead 
 toward Perkins & Gray's. 
 
 Miss Severoid was just a little pale, and she watched 
 every step the stalwart chief took as a cat watches an 
 unsuspecting sparrow. 
 
 But Cralla did not halt nor give any sign that he 
 knew she was behind him. When a neatly folded chit 
 dropped from his right hand and lay directly in Miss 
 Severoid's path, he did not stop to see ..aether she 
 picked it up or not. 
 
 Instead, he increased his pace; walked without a 
 moment's halt out of the palm-grove and across the 
 mission beach, and dived into the bush-path leading to 
 Perkins & Gray's. 
 
 Miss Severoid dropped her hand-bag and picked 
 it and the chit up together. But the precaution was 
 unnecessary. There was no one behind her. 
 
 A little later, having avoided as much as she could 
 a long conversation with the missionary's wife, she 
 reached her rooms. Unfolding the note with fingers 
 that perceptibly trembled, she read: 
 
 "I am sorry that my choice of a messenger should have sug 
 gested to you that I am cowardly enough to protect myself at 
 your expense. A handkerchief dVopped from your sitting-room 
 window this evening after dinner will tell me that I may call 
 and try to improve your impression of me. 
 
 "Don't be afraid. I shall be careful not to compromise you 
 in any way. And please remember that the word 'good-by' has 
 no place between you and me. G. C." 
 
 Miss Severoid's lips were quite colorless, but in spite 
 of that a queer, satisfied little smile hung upon her lips.
 
 52 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 The flaring red, tropical sun dropped beyond the dark- 
 green line of the horizon, tinting the sky with the 
 delicate hues of the rainbow that faded almost as 
 quickly as they came, till, as though heralded by the 
 ringing of "four bells" upon every beach, darkness 
 fell. 
 
 A low tap upon the door startled her a little, but, 
 going to the washstand in the little bedroom adjoining, 
 she called clearly : 
 
 "Come in!" 
 
 A colored maid entered with the lamps. 
 
 To Miss Severoid she was a new figure in the house 
 hold ; a lithe, black Venus, coiled about with a rich cloth 
 of deep red, and there was a yellow silk handkerchief 
 about her head. 
 
 "Oh, thanks !" Miss Severoid called sweetly from the 
 bath-room doorway. "Put that green one over by 
 the window, will you, please? Yes, near the veranda 
 a little nearer yet. That's it. That's a good girl. 
 Thank you. I haven't seen you before. What is your 
 name ?" 
 
 "Ilora. I be new gell." 
 
 The girl eyed her mistress with a covetous yet con 
 temptuous glance. 
 
 "Ilora? That's rather a pretty name. Take the 
 other lamp into the bedroom, please." 
 
 The girl obeyed without a word, and a few moments 
 later she went out with a sinuous, noiseless movement 
 that was a little creepy. 
 
 Miss Severoid entered the bedroom and closed the 
 door. 
 
 When she emerged again she was radiant, and more 
 wonderful than ever. The soft lights played in her 
 hair; her cheeks glowed, and her eyes sparkled with 
 the love of life and, possibly, with the knowledge that
 
 SIGNALS 53 
 
 she was truly beautiful. In a simple, white dinner- 
 gown, free from all artificialities, she might have posed 
 for a modern version of the Madonna. 
 
 At dinner that evening, the Rev. James Steel glanced 
 furtively in her direction several times, and knew, 
 though he never would have admitted it to his wife, 
 that he was looking upon the most fascinating woman 
 he had ever seen. 
 
 Mrs. Steel looked sad ; not at all envious just sad. 
 She was thinking of what havoc malaria and its attend 
 ant evils would work upon Miss Severoid's wonder 
 fully tinted cheeks and smooth, svelt figure. 
 
 Even the waiting maids seemed to feel the effect of 
 Miss Severoid's startling loveliness. They performed 
 their duties with less precision than usual, and the 
 punkah boy twice stopped pulling to gape at the glisten 
 ing whiteness of her shoulders. 
 
 "I can't understand what the people at home were 
 thinking about," the missionary's wife said to him when 
 they were seated in their corner of the veranda after 
 ward. 
 
 Miss Severoid had smilingly wished them good-night 
 because she felt "just a little sleepy." 
 
 "She was never intended for this kind of work, even 
 if she does know how to teach, and I'm sure she doesn't 
 care a snap of her pretty fingers whether there are a 
 dozen heathens in the Delta or a million." 
 
 "Martha, my dear!" 
 
 "And you know it, James. And you don't care 
 whether she does or not. You are glad to have her 
 here, if only to look at and be reminded that a woman 
 is really a delicate creation of the Lord's, and not the 
 physical monstrosity you married." 
 
 "Martha!" 
 
 "Oh, fiddlesticks ! And that note of horror you are
 
 54 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 trying to get into your voice isn't convincing. But I 
 don't blame you, man o' mine. If / were a man, I'd 
 what was that?" she exclaimed. 
 
 Mrs. Steel sat up straight and listened. She had 
 good ears. 
 
 A naked foot scuffled through the dining-room and 
 one of the maids passed on down-stairs to the beach. 
 The watch-boy under the veranda stopped singing his 
 three-lined dirge to the pale and watery moon and 
 sang it to her, and forgot he was a watch-boy. 
 
 The maid's name was Ilora. 
 
 A bell from a distant beach sounded, rather pre 
 maturely, the hour of nine. 
 
 "Thought I heard some one moan," Mrs. Steel said 
 at last, sitting' comfortably back into her chair. "But 
 I must have been mistaken." 
 
 Yet she had not been mistaken. 
 
 A half -stunned Kroo watch-boy lay under the fringe 
 of the bush at the rear of the clearing bound and 
 gagged. A large and brutal-looking Jackrie was sit 
 ting on his head. 
 
 And Clavering was seated in a shadowy corner of 
 Miss Severoid's sitting-room with a tiny handkerchief 
 in his hand.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 TEARS 
 
 THE green-shaded lamp near the veranda windows 
 had been turned low, and a streak of light coming 
 through the half-opened bedroom door fell like a spot 
 light upon Miss Severoid, who stood very still in the 
 center of the room. 
 
 An indistinct and irregular drone of conversation 
 came from the far corner of the south veranda which, 
 being upon the other side of the house facing Perkins 
 & Gray's, was not visible from Miss Severoid's quar 
 ters. 
 
 The stretch of veranda upon each side of the main 
 stairway and facing the river was common property, 
 used in the daytime by visiting natives of more or less 
 repute. Just then it was deserted. 
 
 Miss Severoid did not look at all frightened. She 
 was listening and smiling. Then, apparently satis 
 fied, she tiptoed to a chair. 
 
 "You are quite an accomplished climber," she said 
 in a subdued voice, arranging her skirts carefully and 
 picking up a fan. "How did you get past the watch- 
 boys?" 
 
 Clavering's eyes glowed upon her like those of a cat 
 in the dark. He crossed his knees leisurely. 
 
 "Usually," he answered, also in a carefully low tone, 
 "I don't bother about watch-boys, but to-night I had to 
 prowl and sneak my way here like a common thief be- 
 
 55
 
 56 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 cause I realize that your position is a delicate one, and 
 that the world would be most unkind in its judgment if 
 it knew that I called. I suppose you've noticed how 
 quickly the average mortal betrays the groove in which 
 his mind runs by the speed with which he seizes upon 
 the worst motive for anything that isn't quite accord 
 ing to Hoyle?" 
 
 "And this isn't quite according to Hoyle, is it?" 
 lazily stirring a tepid zephyr with the fan. "May I 
 ask why you called ?" 
 
 "To know why you dropped this." 
 
 He held up the tiny, lace-embroidered handkerchief 
 in silent interrogation. 
 
 "Oh, just curiosity. This is a queer country, you 
 know, and you are probably one of the queerest crea 
 tions in it. Women, as a rule, have an abnormally de 
 veloped bump of inquisitiveness. I am no exception, 
 but" with a careful laugh "this proves it, doesn't 
 it?" 
 
 Clavering's teeth gleamed in a smile. He held the 
 handkerchief out to her. 
 
 "If that was all, then I do not want to keep this. 
 But I should also like to know why, when you had such 
 a splendid opportunity to destroy me the other evening, 
 you allowed me to live to bother you ?" 
 
 Miss Severoid claimed the handkerchief with a mild 
 inconsequential "Thank you." 
 
 "That was simply gratitude for your goodness to us. 
 Heaven knows when we should have reached home if 
 you hadn't gallantly come to the rescue." 
 
 Clavering's lips closed tightly. It was then one saw 
 the cruelty of his mouth. But he did not stir. 
 
 Followed an uncomfortable quiet. Miss Severoid 
 appeared to be waiting for her guest to speak. 
 
 At length, with a low, melodious laugh, she said 
 lightly:
 
 TEARS 57 
 
 "You are too serious, Mr. Clavering, or is it that you 
 are not serious enough? I thought you came to im 
 prove my impression of you, and you are sulky. That 
 isn't particularly entertaining. Why don't you tell me 
 something about yourself ?" 
 
 Clavering leaned forward, resting his elbows on his 
 knees. 
 
 "You are too pretty a woman to make trifling with 
 any man very safe, and too clever a woman to let cu 
 riosity permit you to do anything so unorthodox and 
 dangerous as this. What's the real reason?" 
 
 Miss Severoid smiled at him over the top of her fan. 
 
 "Flatterer! And though your theories are most 
 profound, there isn't any particular reason for this 
 except that I like to do unusual things. They are so 
 much more exciting than the usual sort. For instance, 
 the Tait boy was telling me of a very queer thing that 
 I'd like to solve just for the fun of it. I hate myster 
 ies, though I like to be mysterious, and this mystery 
 irritated me does yet, in fact. Imagine any one dis 
 appearing and never, never being found !" 
 
 Clavering sat up straight. His quick ear, constantly 
 and instinctively listening for the approach of danger, 
 heard a wicker chair on the south veranda creak loudly 
 as some one rose and moved about for a moment. 
 
 Then a door closed, and silence, save for a low buzz 
 of conversation under the veranda, fell again. 
 
 "Who disappeared and never was found ?" he asked 
 cautiously. 
 
 Miss Severoid folded her fan, leaned her chin upon 
 it meditatively and thought a minute. 
 
 "Hed no, that wasn't it. Deb Debenham that 
 was the boy's name, wasn't it?" 
 
 "Oh Debenham! Yes, I remember that. Hap 
 pened about six months ago. And it irritates you, 
 does it?"
 
 58 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "Terribly. That is, it seems so weird and stupid 
 that no one seems to know even what happened to him. 
 I mentioned it because I thought you, who are so mys 
 terious yourself, might be able to solve it for me if 
 you cared to. I'm sure you could." 
 
 "Are you?" 
 
 "Quite." 
 
 Clavering's teeth gleamed again, and Miss Severoid 
 saw his hands clench slowly on his knees. 
 
 "Good," he murmured, and his voice purred. "But 
 I am not a detective." 
 
 "You could be if you wanted to. Please! Just tell 
 me. You do know what happened to him, don't 
 you?" 
 
 She rose very quietly, but Clavering did not know 
 how she trembled. In a moment, with scarcely a 
 sound, and hardly seeming to move, she was standing 
 over him, nearer than he had believed she would dare 
 to come. 
 
 "Won't you tell me?" she pleaded. "I'd just love 
 the sensation of knowing something no one else does !" 
 
 Clavering did not answer. 
 
 His right hand rose a little with a jerky, undecided 
 movement, and the tips of his fingers brushed the vel 
 vety softness of Miss Severoid's arm. 
 
 He did not feel her shrink, nor hear the little gasp 
 she gave. Out of the shadows the deep blue of her 
 eyes looked meltingly down upon him. 
 
 He moved uneasily and did not speak. But his 
 right hand went out again, still undecidedly, and this 
 time closed about her arm with a timidity entirely for 
 eign to him. 
 
 Gently, without haste or any evidence of surprise or 
 disapproval, she drew her arm free, still looking stead 
 ily down at him in the quiet, deliberate way she had. 
 
 "Please tell me," she pleaded again. "You do
 
 TEARS 59 
 
 know. I can see it in your face. He isn't " Some 
 thing caught in her throat making her voice husky. 
 She coughed it clear. "He isn't dead?" 
 
 Clavering sat back in his chair with a sudden and 
 surprising air of nonchalance, as though the subject 
 did not interest him. Miss Severoid winced. 
 
 "He wasn't dead when I saw him last," came the 
 unexpected answer suddenly and indifferently but 
 Clavering's coal-black glance pierced the veil of shadow 
 and saw Miss Severoid's lips part suddenly as though 
 she would scream. 
 
 Instead she laughed; a queer little sound that 
 cracked unmusically. 
 
 "Oh tha-thank you! Fun- funny I knew he 
 he " she drew away a pace. "I was sure he \vh- 
 where did you see him last?" 
 
 Clavering rose, and there was a quiet, knowing smile 
 playing about the corners of his mouth. His move 
 ments were noiseless catlike, uncanny. 
 
 A cargo boat, making the Bates & Mahler curve, 
 blew a sonorous blast of warning, and then the world 
 was still. 
 
 Miss Severoid backed away from Clavering till the 
 light from the bedroom lamp fell upon her face again 
 and betrayed the anxiety she was trying so desperately 
 to conceal and stifle. 
 
 "So that was it? I said you were a clever woman 
 and you are ; as clever as you are wonderful. The 
 stage lost an artist, Miss Severoid, when you became a 
 mission lady. Might I ask " and he suddenly reached 
 her side, leaning over her like the shadow of evil he 
 was "what young Debenham was to you ?" 
 
 "Tome!" 
 
 She tried to slip away, but the tips of his fingers 
 pressing against her arm stayed her as effectively as 
 though he had bound a rope about her.
 
 60 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "Don't be stupid! And and please let me go! 
 Please!" 
 
 She caught his eyes and held them. "You would 
 not like me to think you common, would you ?" 
 
 "Hardly, but I don't think you do in any case," came 
 the easy, confident answer, and his fingers with tips 
 like iron made her captivity more emphatic. "Be 
 sides, you think I can be of use to you help you to 
 find your what was young Debenham to you?" 
 
 There was no answer. 
 
 But her head drooped slowly, nearer and nearer to 
 his broad chest, while under his fingers he felt her 
 tremble and shudder convulsively as a throaty sob 
 broke harshly upon the stillness. 
 
 Clavering looked and felt awkward. Upon a plane 
 with the majority of men he had a healthy horror of a 
 woman's tears. 
 
 His hands dropped limply away from her arms, only 
 to have her lean against him with her face cowering 
 into the hollow of his shoulder, as though she were 
 afraid he might leave her. 
 
 "D-don't ask me! P-please you you " 
 
 She stopped. Her arms swept suddenly upward 
 about his neck, and she clung to him in that sudden 
 mad frenzy which no man enjoys, looking up into his 
 face with all the faith in the world in her glistening, 
 tear-filled eyes. 
 
 "You you're so big and and wonderful so 
 strong so so good to me! Won't you trust me? 
 Oh, please, please help me ! I I'm so alone so help 
 less in this terrible place, and he he oh, I can't ! I 
 can't tell you !" 
 
 "Sh!" Clavering cautioned, biting his lips. "It's 
 er it's all right. I I'll " 
 
 He halted abruptly, and his eyes feasted themselves 
 greedily upon her upturned face. The round arms
 
 TEARS 61 
 
 about his neck were a soft and delicious imprisonment. 
 
 Scarcely aware of it, his own crept up and about her 
 shoulders gently at first, then tightening all at once. 
 His head bent with lightning swiftness, and his lips 
 pressed burningly upon hers once, twice, thrice till 
 she thrust him reeling away from her. 
 
 "You beast ! You you " 
 
 Her indignation seemed to choke her, and her voice 
 trailed away to a low moan. She tottered to a chair 
 and buried her face in her arms. 
 
 Clavering stood a few paces off, motionless and 
 white to the lips listening. 
 
 Some one was calling for the watch-boy who lay 
 under the fringe of the bush to the rear of the clearing, 
 and a low., peculiar whistle came from beneath the 
 veranda. 
 
 The outlaw, however, seemed to be more concerned 
 about Miss Severoid's grief. His hands began to move 
 uneasily, and his lips parted once or twice as though 
 he would apologize. 
 
 But he waited saying nothing. 
 
 Then Miss Severoid's head came up slowly, and he 
 saw the glistening contempt in her eyes. 
 
 "Please please go!" she breathed huskily. "I'm 
 sorry I allowed you to come up. Instead of being a 
 prince of sinners, you you're just just beastly! 
 Now go!" 
 
 Clavering's head sank an inch or two, and his shoul 
 ders with it. For a little while, with the whistle under 
 the veranda becoming more and more insistent, he 
 stood very still just looking at her. 
 
 "I am sorry." His voice went fathoms deep. 
 "Goodnight!" 
 
 "Good-by!" 
 
 Clavering, who had reached the door, swung round 
 abruptly.
 
 62 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "No. Not good-by good night !" 
 
 And he was gone a silent shadow that drifted into 
 the darkness and slipped across the beach, almost un 
 der the noses of those who were looking for the watch- 
 boy. 
 
 Reaching the grove of palms leading to Marsden's 
 Creek, he stopped and whistled that same low sound 
 that had come from beneath the veranda. 
 
 Ilora, who had playfully blown out the front beach 
 watch-boy's lamp, grinned under cover of the darkness 
 and helped him light it again. A few moments later 
 she watched a "one woman" canoe glide out from the 
 black shadows of Marsden's kernel house into the main 
 stream and vanish in the murk toward Akerri. 
 
 Miss Severoid, brushing her lips vigorously with a 
 tiny handkerchief, blew out the green-shaded lamp and 
 laughed a little hysterically. She was looking across 
 the creek to the shady corner of Marsden's veranda, 
 where a big, sandy-haired man sat waiting and watch 
 ing. 
 
 "It's all right," she whispered brokenly. "Every 
 thing's all right. He still has the shreds of a con 
 science, and he'll help me and so will you. And 
 they were only stage-kisses from the villain of the 
 play. Ugh!" 
 
 Her mouth twisted queerly in disgust, and her step, 
 as she moved toward the bedroom, was unsteady. 
 
 Then, reaching her bed and plunging recklessly 
 through the loose-hanging mosquito curtains, she fell 
 forward upon her face in a sudden, unrestrained 
 paroxysm of weeping. 
 
 But those tears were real ! 
 
 The others she had shed on Clavering's shoulder 
 were not.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE AFFAIR AT SAGANNA 
 
 THAT one of the mission watch-boys had been found 
 bound and gagged, and that the victim could give no 
 very definite account of what had happened to him, 
 created a little stir. But comment upon the circum 
 stance died away very quickly. 
 
 Chief Cralla did not appear on the Mission Beach 
 next morning, and Mrs. Steel felt somewhat relieved. 
 
 But when another week had passed sweltering over 
 their heads and the Beau Brummel of Jackriedom failed 
 to put in an appearance, Miss Severoid began to look 
 worried. In the privacy of her own rooms at night 
 she would sit with her hands clasped tightly in her lap, 
 staring dreamily, sometimes hungrily, out through 
 the open windows, hoping for another of Clavering's 
 notes. 
 
 In the afternoons, when the greasy, sycophantic chil 
 dren of the Delta had gone, or when she returned from 
 a visit to some of the near-by villages, where, with 
 Mrs. Steel, she distributed piece-cloth for the naked, 
 administered home remedies to the sick, taught sewing 
 and cleanliness, and, tempting men and maidens with 
 the mysteries of the alphabet, invited all and sundry 
 to the mission hall "next morning," she frequently took 
 tiffin in the cool shade of her own veranda. 
 
 But before many days had gone she was rarely al 
 lowed to enjoy it alone. 
 
 Dawson, the district commissioner, broke the ice 
 first, and most of the other men Fletcher of Perkins 
 
 63
 
 64 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 & Gray's, Carmichael of the Produce Association. 
 Bailey of Bates & Mahler's, the assistant D. C, and 
 the rest followed ; and Miss Severoid served them tea 
 and smiles promiscuously. 
 
 Once Davie Tait took himself by the scruff of the 
 neck and, blushing most uncomfortably, thrust him 
 self across the little wooden bridge and the greater 
 divide of being a raw "first-timer" to the outer 
 fringe of that admiring circle. 
 
 But he did it only once. 
 
 Hugging a veranda upright, watching men drink tea 
 as though they liked it men who usually drank their 
 Scotch in tumblerfuls and neat listening to their "idle 
 chatter" and not having an opportunity to say anything 
 himself, was not Davie's idea of enjoyment. 
 
 So he did not go again, in spite of Miss Severoid's 
 smiling invitation. 
 
 McClure did not go at all. He sat across the creek 
 and watched smiling under cover of his mustache at 
 the "other fools," knowing that he was probably the 
 greatest fool of the lot. 
 
 Like Davie and Clavering, who had been led to ex 
 pect more than they had received, McClure was sulk 
 ing. He was resolutely waiting for Miss Severoid to 
 ask him to call. 
 
 And Miss Severoid, for reasons of her own, had no 
 intention of doing anything of the sort. Some day 
 she did mean to call him to her side but there would 
 be nothing formal in the invitation. 
 
 Then one morning a runner brought to Segwanga 
 the startling intelligence that Clavering was trapped in 
 Chief Rama's compound in the native village of Sa- 
 ganna, fifteen miles away. 
 
 With Rama and his boys, armed with modern rifles 
 and supplied with no one knew how many rounds of 
 ammunition, he was fighting for his life against a par-
 
 THE AFFAIR AT SAGANNA 65 
 
 ticularly shrewd young lieutenant of the Waffs (West 
 African Field Force), who, with a company of Yo- 
 rubas, had apparently surrounded him and left him 
 no loophole of escape. 
 
 That afternoon Miss Severoid took tiffin alone. 
 
 Most of Segwanga raced in launches to Saganna. 
 The missionary and his wife, who went to help influ 
 ence peace among natives who might possibly rise to 
 Rama's aid, left their assistant behind because of the 
 inviolable law that, at all times, upon all beaches, one 
 white representative had to remain and, by the simple 
 domination of color, prevent the native help from tak 
 ing unusual liberties. 
 
 McClure did not go either. He sat in his shady 
 corner as usual, watching the trim figure across the 
 creek and wondered what she thought about it. 
 
 Had he been told that she was praying with all her 
 soul for Clavering's escape he would have called his 
 informant a fool. 
 
 Nevertheless she was. Clavering was too necessary 
 to die just then. 
 
 Since morning she had writhed in doubt and sus 
 pense. Left at the mercy of such fears as were known 
 to her alone, she grew paler and paler, till her color 
 was near to that of gray chalk. 
 
 Then shortly after four o'clock, as if in keeping with 
 her thoughts, the sky darkened suddenly. 
 
 African thunder clouds gathered with amazing 
 rapidity and a sudden gust of wind whirled a doily 
 from the little table. The few canoes on the river 
 scurried for shelter. 
 
 She rose, called a maid as loudly as she could, and 
 held her fingers to her ears as the first clap of thunder 
 rent the sultry silence the first great drop of rain 
 splashed upon the veranda rail. 
 
 Reaching her sitting-room and hurriedly closing the
 
 66 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 windows and doors, she sat in semi-darkness watching 
 the forked flashes of nature's anger chase each other 
 around the darkening line of the horizon, while peal 
 upon crashing peal of thunder followed in rapid and 
 deafening succession. 
 
 And then the rain came a solid sheet of water, 
 blotting out the river and Marsden's everything be 
 yond the veranda uprights; crowding her into still 
 narrower compass with the vultures of her thoughts 
 tearing at her heart in a gray-black world in which 
 she was alone. 
 
 But there were no tears. Her pain went too deep for 
 that. She sat quite still in a roomy Madeira chair, 
 staring out at the gaunt veranda uprights that were 
 stark against the gray wall of water beyond, too numb 
 to be afraid. 
 
 Again and again her mind drifted toward Saganna, 
 and a picture she had formed at the very birth of Clav- 
 ering's plight rose up to torment her writhing soul. 
 
 It was a lurid scene, filled with flashes of fire and 
 lazy puffs of smoke curling upward. The dark brown 
 wall of the compound was pock-marked with bullet 
 holes ; blood and sweat-streaked faces came out of the 
 blur of fight and still forms lay staring glassily heaven 
 ward! 
 
 The deadly outer circle was creeping nearer and 
 nearer, and the vicious crack and spit of rifles was in 
 her ears. 
 
 And in the midst of it all she saw Clavering cool, 
 easy, and even careless, gambling with his life and 
 freedom, which were more valuable to her then than 
 all the wealth in the world. 
 
 All at once, breaking in upon her sordid reverie 
 with nerve-shaking suddenness, her sitting-room door, 
 leading from the dining-room, was thrown open, and 
 she started to her feet as a huge figure in a slouch hat,
 
 THE AFFAIR AT SAGANNA 67 
 
 black oilskin coat and rainboots, whirled in, closing the 
 door swiftly behind him. 
 
 "Hope I don't intrude? Thought you might be 
 frightened !" 
 
 It was McClure. 
 
 The sound of his deep bass voice, though not the 
 sound she had hoped for, was welcome enough, and 
 she made a desperate effort to show it as she told him 
 to be quick about putting his dripping coat and boots 
 into the bathroom, since the maids had evidently de 
 serted their posts in the rain. 
 
 When he had obeyed, she told him, more hurriedly 
 perhaps than was necessary, that she was more than 
 glad to see him, and that he might smoke if he cared to. 
 
 "I'm all alone," she finished. 
 
 McClure' s heavy eyebrows lowered, and he glanced 
 searchingly at her from out of their shadow. 
 
 "Don't be afraid," he said soothingly, and the 
 wicker chair he chose squeaked and creaked protest 
 against his bulk. "These little rainstorms are harm 
 less. A lot of fuss over nothing. But I thought since 
 it was your first experience and you were alone I'd 
 come over and well I'm here!" 
 
 "Thank you. It was very good of you. I hope you 
 didn't get very wet?" 
 
 She rose and felt his shoulders and arms to con 
 vince herself, and McClure laughed oddly a forced 
 sound that would have jarred upon sensitive ears. 
 
 Miss Severoid scarcely heard it. Even as she made 
 sure that McClure' s raincoat had been perfect protec 
 tion against the elements, her mind was groping 
 through the darkness and the rain toward Saganna. 
 
 "You're not wet a bit," she said, going back to her 
 chair. "But you really shouldn't have come. I wasn't 
 afraid." 
 
 "No?" McClure wondered what had happened to
 
 68 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 her voice it was so small and husky. "Want me to 
 light the lamp? We can hardly see each other." 
 
 "Oh, that doesn't matter. I mean I'd rather not. 
 I like this sort of end-of -the- world effect. Gracious 
 isn't it raining!" 
 
 "A little. Can't see the river can you?" 
 
 "Not a thing. I never saw rain like this before. 
 Does it last long?" 
 
 "Sometimes. But this won't last longer than an 
 hour or two. It's too early in the season. The Sa- 
 ganna party will get wet enough, though." 
 
 "Ye-yes. I suppose so. I hope Mrs. Steel doesn't 
 catch cold." 
 
 McClure laughed shortly. There was a heaviness 
 in the atmosphere that was not the fault of the weather. 
 
 "Mr. Steel is more likely to be the victim," he de 
 clared. 
 
 With a supreme effort Miss Severoid smiled and 
 tried to shake off the numbness and the sense of help 
 lessness that were dragging like leaden weights upon 
 her tongue and spirits. 
 
 But an awkward quiet settled over them, and the 
 lashing of the rain, like dull thunder, upon the galva 
 nized iron roof was not a soothing sound. 
 
 Remembering that he might smoke, McClure pro 
 duced a cigar, but did not light it. He fidgeted about 
 in his chair, searching his mind for something interest 
 ing apart from the Saganna affair. That topic inev 
 itably meant approaching the matter of the protection 
 he had promised her, and he did not intend to refer to 
 that again until she did. 
 
 "Perhaps that is perhaps I'm bothering you," he 
 managed to say at last. "I think you'd rather be 
 alone, wouldn't you?" 
 
 Miss Severoid started.
 
 THE AFFAIR AT SAGANNA 69 
 
 "Gracious ! I I'd forgotten you were here !" 
 
 "Thanks." 
 
 "No, no I don't mean it that way! You you 
 are very good to me, and you don't bother me a bit. 
 You came out in all that rain just because you thought 
 I'd be afraid to be alone, and then you well you've 
 no idea what a comfort it is sometimes to to have 
 some one near who can sit and say nothing, yet be 
 there, strong and quiet and big, ready to help if one 
 needs help !" 
 
 McClure's color deepened a little, and Miss Severoid 
 did not fail to notice it. 
 
 "I see. Do you need any help ?" 
 
 "N-no not quite. Please that is don't let's talk 
 about me particularly. I'm oh, I'm out of sorts, 
 that's all; the weather and and everything Tell 
 me a story ! You must know lots of them. Tell me 
 about yourself the things you've done and the places 
 you've been. You look as if you'd been everywhere. 
 Have you?" 
 
 "Almost." McClure smiled dryly. "And I've 
 learned that the Golden Gate is not as far away from 
 the Saltmarket as I am from knowing anything about 
 ypu. I know you were a shepherdess once, and " 
 
 "You know " Miss Severoid got slowly to her 
 feet and, choking back the rest of what she meant to 
 say, moved away from him toward the windows. 
 
 Her face had become white and drawn in a moment, 
 and her lips a knifelike line. 
 
 McClure sat very quiet, watching her. 
 
 "I'm sorry if I've hurt you," he said at last. "Per 
 haps I'd better go?" 
 
 No answer. She did not even turn her head. 
 
 McClure chewed his mustache, bit upon his unlit 
 cigar, stared at his boots, out at the thick fog of the
 
 70 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 rain, and at the back of Miss Severoid's dull gold head. 
 He seemed to get very little satisfaction out of any of 
 these things. 
 
 The silence grew heavier and heavier; a volcanic 
 quiet that threatened to explode any moment. Even 
 when the trader rose, to the accompaniment of much 
 creaking and squeaking of his chair, the young 
 woman's trimly rounded figure at the window, sil 
 houetted against the gray light, remained perfectly 
 motionless as though she had not heard. 
 
 McClure found his coat, hat and rainboots on tip 
 toe ; slipped quietly into them and reached the side door 
 leading out to the dining-room and the front veranda, 
 not wishing to use Miss Severoid's private entrance 
 because of the rain. 
 
 Still she did not move. All the vivacity had gone 
 out of her face, leaving it dull and white and almost 
 expressionless. But her teeth were set firmly to 
 gether. 
 
 "I'll go out this way," McClure announced in a low 
 tone. "Just send for me, if you need me. Good-by !" 
 
 Miss Severoid's chin jerked up a little and came 
 round slowly. It was too dark to see her face clearly, 
 and McClure only caught a flash of the perfect profile 
 against the light. 
 
 But he never forgot it. It was like a cameo. 
 
 "Thank you. I'll remember that. Good-by!" 
 
 In another moment she was alone, listening to the 
 pouading of his heavy feet passing through the dining- 
 room to the front veranda and thence downstairs. 
 
 Then she turned and went slowly back to her chair. 
 
 She felt that she was suffocating, and presently she 
 rose again to walk impatiently up and down the floor, 
 clenching her teeth till the pressure hurt. 
 
 Ere many minutes had gone she had forgotten Mc 
 Clure even his reference to the "shepherdess." Her
 
 THE AFFAIR AT SAGANNA 71 
 
 mind numbed and weary with fear since morning 
 was staggering back to Rama's compound at Saganna. 
 
 She scarcely saw the storm drifting northward, and 
 the canoes on the river, emerging from the shelter of 
 the overhanging bush, were blurred specks before her 
 eyes. 
 
 When her maid came to throw open the windows 
 and the doors again the usual "Thank you!" was 
 wanting. 
 
 And then, out of the mist and the blackness, a 
 shuffling footstep on the front veranda came to her and 
 made her start, stop and wait ready to scream. 
 
 The step shuffled nearer and nearer. After what 
 seemed an age the author of the sound came into view 
 and stopped before her open door. 
 
 It was Cralla !
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT 
 
 CRALLA'S helmet was in his hand, held out a little 
 from his side toward Miss Severoid. 
 
 She took two hurried steps forward, then halted 
 abruptly, gulping down the impulsive question she 
 intended to put to him. 
 
 Inside the helmet was one of Clavering's carefully 
 folded notes. 
 
 Cralla's face looked puffy, as though he had been 
 indulging in some terrible orgy and had but recently 
 awakened from its effects. His tawny skin, the color 
 of dried mango-bark juice, had the splotched appear 
 ance common to the native after fever or debauch. 
 
 His expression was one of satisfied submission, as 
 though he knew quite well that, even though a chief, 
 he was nevertheless a very insignificant mortal in the 
 eyes of the beautiful white lady whose soft, rich color 
 was creeping back into her cheeks and lips even as he 
 watched. 
 
 But the dignity of his crisp, gray head was still with 
 him, and as he stood a few respectful paces off Miss 
 Severoid did not know whether to fear or pity him. 
 
 A careful glance through the open windows and 
 across the creek assured her that McClure was not in 
 his accustomed corner, and another in other directions 
 about her said it was quite safe to take the note from 
 Cralla's helmet. 
 
 72
 
 THE SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT 73 
 
 Holding her breath as she unfolded the epistle, 
 which was much bulkier than those received on former 
 occasions, this is what she read : 
 
 SPECIAL TO MISS SEVEROID ! 
 (From Her Own Correspondent at the Front.) 
 
 Outside Rama's Compound, Saganna. Twentieth. Fierce bat 
 tle raging. Am watching it from a box-seat. I have an uneasy 
 suspicion that poor Rama and his crowd are being licked because 
 a junior mechanic of warfare thinks I am somewhere in the 
 midst of the black mob that is bottled up in the chief's mud 
 palace. 
 
 Rama's boys have acquired Martini-Henrys, Lee-Metfords, and 
 a Winchester or two though I can't say where they got them 
 and are fighting for home and mother. Not because they particu 
 larly want to, but because those Yoruba soldier-men won't stop 
 shooting. 
 
 Of course Rama's people have no right to have rifles. 
 
 That constitutes rebellion ; but it's quite the most bloodthirsty 
 scrap over a technicality that I have ever seen. 
 
 I don't know who told the lieutenant person that I was in 
 Rama's compound, but I suspect that our mutual friend Cralla, 
 through the medium of one of his satellites, is the culprit. 
 
 He doesn^t like Rama. At any rate, I see that the wily chief 
 from Akerri is very active among the Yoruba rear-guard, though 
 he is careful to keep out of the way of bullets. 
 
 The Segwanga contingent is beginning to arrive; Dawson, 
 Fletcher, Carmichael and the rest. 
 
 I see the Violet coming up now. 
 
 Glad you are not on board, because Sherman knew what he 
 was talking about. 
 
 LATE EXTRA ! 
 
 Fletcher, one of your most persistent tea-drinkers, is down. 
 Hope it's only the shoulder, but it looks a little lower. Fletcher 
 isn't a bad sort. Mrs. Steel is taking care of him. 
 
 Rama dropped an hour ago. His boys are just fighting. They 
 don't understand. 
 
 Dawson, the D. C, will need a crutch to get to your tea-parties 
 in future. Knee smashed. 
 
 I don't see your sandy-haired friend in the forefront of the 
 battle, though. What's he doing? Sitting on his veranda sighing 
 across the creek to you? 
 
 I am going to send Cralla along with this.
 
 74 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Since you are alone, ask him about young Debenham. He'll 
 tell you all he knows, because I'll tell him to. 
 I think it is going to rain. 
 
 LATEST EXTRA II 
 
 The compound wall has caved in and the Yorubas have 
 charged. I think they wanted to get it over with and get in out 
 of the wet Rama's boys, or all that's left of them, are scooting 
 all over the shop. The Yoruba is happiest when he's dropping 
 his man on the run. It isn't pretty. 
 
 And now the lieutenant person is poking among the ugly little 
 heaps in the compound searching for yours truly. Cralla is help 
 ing him. 
 
 Hope you haven't been worried about me? 
 
 Au revoir. G. C. 
 
 Miss Severoid felt a little sick and her knees trem 
 bled. But they supported her as far as a chair. 
 Cralla, still submissive and emotionless, remained in 
 the doorway. 
 
 There were a few moments of quiet while Miss 
 Severoid grappled with the colossal impudence, the 
 irony, subtlety, and completeness of Covering's "spe 
 cial from the front." 
 
 She did not ask herself any questions about the "box 
 seat," though she imagined it might be a particularly 
 leafy tree. Neither did she give much consideration 
 to the reference to her "sandy-haired friend," except to 
 wonder how Clavering came by all his information. 
 
 Her first sensation, because of the apparently use 
 less "slaughter of the innocents," was one of repug 
 nance that made her shrink from the unctuous, treach 
 erous Jackrie chief as from a contagious and filthy 
 disease. But as she sat down, breathing a little more 
 deeply than usual and glancing rapidly about, she be 
 came calmer and colder and more deliberate. 
 
 Her fears departed as suddenly as they had come. 
 Hope was born again, and with it a keener apprecia 
 tion of Clavering's ability.
 
 THE SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT 75 
 
 When a maid had scuffled through the dining-room 
 into the hum of activity in the kitchen below Miss 
 Severoid looked toward Cralla again. 
 
 There was no impudence or expectation in his look 
 or attitude. He simply stood there waiting deferen 
 tially to be spoken to, without appearing to care wheth 
 er Miss Severoid would do so or not. 
 
 "Mr. Mr. Clavering tell you to tell me something?" 
 She rose and went nearer to the door. 
 
 Cralla immediately descended upon one knee, said 
 "Doh!" very respectfully, and, standing erect again, 
 answered rapidly in a low monotone: 
 
 "Be so. I be chief ! I no talk lie to white mammy. 
 You savvy Deb'nham?" 
 
 Miss Severoid nodded, with her attention fixed upon 
 Cralla's face his mouth and eyes particularly. They 
 made her uneasy, though she was not at all sure why 
 they did so. 
 
 "He live for Benin Cit'," Cralla droned hurriedly. 
 "Be big money palaver. Last time I look him, he be 
 all ri'. When he go leave Benin Cit' he hab more 
 money than Niger Comp'ny." 
 
 Miss Severoid's lips came together and her color 
 drifted again. 
 
 She had heard of the walled city of Benin and of 
 its cruel, filthy inhabitants. Stories of the fabulous 
 riches left there by expelled Portuguese adventurers 
 in the fifteenth century were legion, but most of them 
 were to be taken with several grains of salt. 
 
 Some one had told her, too, that no white man 
 within recent times had ever entered the place and 
 escaped alive. 
 
 "When and where did you see him last ?" she asked 
 calmly enough, in spite of another sinking weakness 
 in her limbs. 
 
 "In Benin Cit' one moon pass."
 
 76 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "How did he get in there? I thought" 
 
 Cralla looked apologetic. 
 
 "He go dere all same he be slave for me." 
 
 "Your" 
 
 A light step scuffling through one of the adjoining 
 rooms halted her. She waited on the rack till it had 
 passed on downstairs. Cralla's look of apology be 
 came more acute. 
 
 " your slave? You mean he dressed up as a 
 native, blacked his face and body, and and " 
 
 Miss Severoid's voice died away as though the 
 picture was beyond the power of words. Yet some 
 thing very near to a smile hovered in the cor 
 ners of her mouth, and there was a strange ten 
 derness and pride in her eyes that Cralla did not 
 understand. 
 
 He mumbled in Jackrie to himself, then translated 
 it into pidgin English. 
 
 "He want to go so. No be my palaver if small-boy 
 white man go crazy in him head. When Chief Daka 
 of Benin Cit' done buy slave from me, suppose he buy 
 Deb'nham! Be my palaver? Be dat way me an' 
 Deb'nham bet. Deb'nham win. Palaver set." 
 
 Miss Severoid's cheeks assumed a deathlike hue. 
 She took a lurching step forward, gripping Cralla's 
 arm, scarcely knowing what she did. No story of 
 Benin City was complete without mention of Daka, 
 and she had heard of him, too ; the most cruel, diabol 
 ical, blood-loving potentate that ever sent a slave writh 
 ing into eternity. 
 
 "You you sold him to Daka!" 
 
 It was just a breath, but Cralla involuntarily backed 
 away from the sudden fire that leaped, like a dormant 
 hell let loose, into her eyes. A Jackrie guttural of 
 surprise escaped him.
 
 THE SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT 77 
 
 "Be so we bet," he mumbled again sullenly. "If 
 small-boy white man be fool " 
 
 He shrugged his great shoulders significantly, and 
 Miss Severoid suddenly jerked her hand free from his 
 arm with something akin to loathing, though most of 
 the gesture was simply an echo of the white anger in 
 her face. 
 
 She retreated slowly to her chair, trying to think 
 clearly. Oddly enough, the possibility that Cralla 
 might not be telling the truth did not suggest itself at 
 all. 
 
 The Jackrie looked about him cautiously, glinting 
 through narrowed lids along the veranda, across Mars- 
 den's Creek, and out toward the river. Then, immo 
 bile and respectful as before, he stood patiently await 
 ing Miss Severoid's pleasure. 
 
 She was struggling to gain the mastery of herself 
 and of the things she wanted to say. Questions were 
 crowding her mind to the suffocation-point, and in 
 place of the hopelessness of that morning there had 
 come a gnawing anxiety that was plainly indicated by 
 the manner in which she crushed Clavering's "report" 
 in her hands, slowly tearing it to pieces. 
 
 Apparently she had forgotten even to be cautious 
 and did not seem to care who came or went. 
 
 Another lurid picture was forming in her mind. It 
 took a few minutes to get the first faint grasp of the 
 situation and a few more to put her thoughts coher 
 ently into words. 
 
 Cralla waited. There was neither pity nor remorse 
 nor covetousness in his face. It relaxed only when he 
 spoke, and he emphasized what he had to say by a 
 grimace or a shrug or a variety of gesticulations, sim 
 ply because his vocabulary was inadequate. 
 
 "How how could he mix with those other people
 
 78 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 if he could not talk the language?" Miss Severoid es 
 sayed at last in whispering doubt. 
 
 "He no talk. Be all same he no get tongue. Daka 
 like him so." 
 
 Miss Severoid blinked, swallowed once or twice, then 
 persisted : 
 
 "Can't we buy him back?" 
 
 "Daka no sell." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "He neber sell slave. He buy all time." Cralla 
 shrugged his shoulders again. "Daka slave die plen'y 
 quick." 
 
 It was pure, uncivilized brutality, and Miss Sever 
 oid shrank from it as from the knout, clenching her 
 teeth and closing her lips as though to keep from cry 
 ing out. Quite involuntarily her glance traveled 
 slowly in dumb appeal toward the shady corner of 
 Marsden's veranda. 
 
 Cralla followed the direction of that look, and his 
 eyes narrowed evilly in a manner that did not portend 
 anything very pleasant for McClure. But when Miss 
 Severoid's attention fell upon him again he was as 
 respectful and submissive as usual. 
 
 She regarded him for a moment or two in silence, 
 and again she had that uneasy sensation of distrust 
 regarding his eyes and mouth. 
 
 Then she rose, not taking her eyes from his face for 
 a moment. 
 
 Cralla retreated a step, then another, cringing. He 
 did not seem to know what to make of the steely blue 
 steadiness of Miss Severoid's gaze. Quite plainly it 
 bothered no, frightened and ruled him. 
 
 "Send Clavering to me to-night." Her voice was 
 as cold as her look and as unwavering. "I don't care 
 where he is. Tell him he must be here to-night !" 
 
 Cralla's lips moved as though he would protest, but
 
 THE SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT 79 
 
 the words died in nameless, throaty sounds that seemed 
 to hurt. 
 
 "Now go!" 
 
 She might have spoken to, a dog that way. 
 
 And Cralla, with an uneasy, sniveling look of be 
 wilderment upon his face robbed of his majesty for 
 the moment went rapidly.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 AGIGI TAKES A HAND 
 
 THE Saganna party filtered back to Segwanga in 
 irregular procession shortly after dark. 
 
 It was not a happy home-coming. 
 
 That Rama and his people had been practically 
 wiped out; that a bubbling pot of rebellion had been 
 snatched from the fire ere it had had a chance to boil 
 over, was little satisfaction to the dusty, blood-smeared 
 lieutenant of the "Waffs." He made up his cas 
 ualty list and regarded a heap of contraband rifles 
 which had undoubtedly been sold to the rebels by 
 Clavering who had vanished into thin air, leaving 
 no trace behind. 
 
 Without doubt, Clavering had been in Rama's com 
 pound within the past twenty-four hours. When and 
 how he had left it was just one more of the unsolved 
 mysteries that made men liken him to a harmattan 
 mist. 
 
 The only person to leave Rama's compound after 
 the Yoruba circle had closed around it hacl been Chief 
 Cralla of Akerri and a few of his boys, one of whom 
 carried a harmless, necessary, black tarpaulin-covered 
 carrier's pack. 
 
 They all promptly denied complicity in the threat 
 ened rebellion. Cralla himself particularly blasphemed 
 against the machinations of Clavering, with whom he 
 would have nothing to do. This attitude he empha 
 sized by remaining of his own free will in the rear of 
 
 80
 
 AGIGI TAKES A HAND 81 
 
 the Yoruba lines till the fight was over, chanting 
 weird incantations to his favorite j'uju and praying for 
 Clavering's annihilation. 
 
 But when he had satisfied himself that Clavering had 
 escaped, he beat a hasty retreat from the scene, travel 
 ing to Segwanga under government protection in the 
 little cabin of a supply-launch, with all the pomp of a 
 prince of the blood. 
 
 The missionary and his wife did not return directly 
 to the mission. They were too busy in the impro 
 vised hospital at the consulate, administering to the 
 material and spiritual wants of those who needed them. 
 They sent word to Miss Severoid to "hold the fort" a 
 few hours longer, to which she replied that she would 
 like to help if there were anything at all she could do 
 for any one. 
 
 Apparently there was no one who needed her, so she 
 sat out on her veranda, watching the river and 
 hoping. 
 
 Launches ran hither and thither incessantly. A 
 cargo-steamer that had come up just before dark lay 
 out in midstream, a silent, black hulk, guilty of no 
 more illumination than the law demanded. 
 
 Vague shapes of canoes glided past, and there were 
 others huddled in the shadow of Marsden's breakwater. 
 A low drone of unusual activity swelled up and died 
 into a murmur that rose again upon the least excuse. 
 
 The watch upon every beach had been doubled, 
 partly against marauding sympathizers with the de 
 funct Rama, and greatly because it was Clavering's 
 habit, after a performance of the Saganna order, to 
 follow it immediately with something peculiarly devil 
 ish, as though to get some satisfaction for the trouble 
 to which he had been put. 
 
 Miss Severoid watched and waited patiently, with 
 her eyes upon the corner of the veranda where Claver-
 
 82 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 ing had made his appearance upon a previous occasion. 
 
 And then a diminutive, cherub-faced boy came, as 
 it seemed, out of nowhere, and stood at her side, pre 
 senting a note. 
 
 It was Agigi, McClure's child-valet. 
 
 Suppressing an exclamation and an inquiry as to 
 how he had come there, Miss Severoid rather blankly 
 accepted the note and read it. while Agigi waited : 
 
 DEAR Miss SEVEROID: 
 
 I am at Perkins & Gray's, trying to get poor Fletcher to go to 
 sleep. He was rather badly hit to-day is now delirious and 
 am afraid he won't be quiet till he sees you. 
 
 If you'd care to come down I'll have one of Fletcher's assist 
 ants look after things for you while you are gone. Just say to 
 the messenger that it is all right, and I'll send your relief and 
 escort right over. Sincerely, 
 
 D. McCmRE. 
 
 Miss Severoid's hand bearing the note descended 
 into her lap and remained there several minutes while 
 she tried to come to a decision. It was not easy. 
 
 Clavering might arrive any moment and 
 
 She did not care to go beyond that. 
 
 Quite suddenly noticing Agigi again, she realized 
 that he was waiting for an answer. 
 
 "I don't I mean that is say I say it's all 
 right." 
 
 Immediately she wanted to say it was impossible. 
 But the boy was not there. He vanished around the 
 corner of the veranda and down-stairs, a small, almost 
 invisible slip of humanity which moved with a swift, 
 soundless tread that was uncanny. 
 
 But in the black shadows of a water-tank he stopped, 
 as a low, peculiar whistle struck upon his ears. 
 
 It came, it seemed, from the other side of the stair 
 way. Almost at once' the sinuous figure of Ilora ap 
 peared at the top of the stairs under the light of a lamp 
 that hung from the veranda roof.
 
 AGIGI TAKES A HAND 83 
 
 She came immediately down to the beach and headed 
 in the general direction of the water-front, where two 
 hurricane lanterns swung idly in the hands of the 
 double watch. 
 
 Agigi, curious and invisible, waited to see what 
 would happen. Because he was watching Ilora he did 
 not see Clavering till that gentleman whose bump of 
 impudence, in the absence of the missionary and his 
 wife, had made him dispense with the trouble of 
 climbing had almost reached the top of the stairs. 
 
 But Agigi saw him there for a second, just as he 
 had seen Ilora under the lamp. 
 
 The whites of the boy's eyes showed, and became 
 still more prominent as Clavering turned and disap 
 peared in the direction of Miss Severoid's quarters. 
 
 With the body of a child and the mind of a man, 
 Agigi waited to hear a scream. 
 
 A minute passed two three. 
 
 There was no scream. No suspicious sound of any 
 kind. 
 
 Agigi did not understand it at all. But he thought 
 McClure might. 
 
 In a moment, yet very cautiously, he had slipped 
 around the water-tank and was heading, like a spirit 
 of the darkness, as swiftly as his little feet could carry 
 him toward Perkins & Gray's. 
 
 Five minutes later, in the privacy of Fletcher's office- 
 sitting-room, the boy was breathlessly whispering into 
 McClure's ear : 
 
 "Dem new miss'n lady say be all ri', but dem time 
 I lef miss'n house, I loog Mass' Clav'rin' go up-stai'. 
 He go for dem new miss'n lady room. I wait to hear 
 her holler. But she no holler. All be sof'ly, sof'ly, 
 all same catchee monkey." 
 
 McClure straightened. 
 
 There was a smoldering glow in his eyes nothing
 
 84 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 violent, but quiet like death. A brighter flame of 
 passion would have been less dangerous. 
 
 Without a word he turned and, reentering Fletcher's 
 bedroom, caught the eye of one of the wounded and 
 delirious trader's assistants. 
 
 "I am going to fetch Miss Severoid myself," was all 
 he said, and immediately went out, drawing his belt a 
 little tighter. 
 
 When one has lived in the midst of mystery and the 
 promise of sudden death for any length of time, one 
 learns to walk quietly and to speak little. McClure, 
 in spite of his bulk, made hardly any sound. 
 
 He was not even allowing himself to think. 
 
 Crossing Perkins & Gray's beach he dived silently 
 and without a lamp-boy into the bush-path leading to 
 the mission. 
 
 As a rule, the carrying of firearms was tabooed by 
 the traders and government officials alike. It was con 
 sidered to be one of the unmistakable signs of the 
 "first-timer." 
 
 But not when Clavering was believed to be in the 
 immediate vicinity. Then every man looked to the 
 loading of his weapons and tested the steadiness of his 
 right hand. 
 
 And McClure fondled the butt of the .45 he carried 
 with an extremely keen satisfaction as he went very 
 softly through the darkness toward the mission. 
 
 At the other end of the path he encountered the mis 
 sion-house steward, whom he did not recognize in the 
 darkness. 
 
 "Who's that?" he demanded in a voice that was 
 harsh almost brutal. 
 
 "I be miss'n stewa'd, sah. I go to Fletch' beach, 
 sah. Miss Sev'roid done sen' me, sah." 
 
 McClure grabbed the boy's shoulder in a grip that 
 hurt.
 
 AGIGI TAKES A HAND 85 
 
 "Miss Severoid sent you? How? When?" 
 
 "Jus' dis minit, sah. She come into de dinin'-room, 
 sah, an' tell me to say dat she no can come to Fletch' 
 beach foh an hour." 
 
 McClure was silent, but his giant body stiffened till 
 the tension pained. He was tempted in the first few 
 moments to ram the implication in the boy's informa 
 tion back down his throat. 
 
 A dull, numbing heaviness came to him, then a flash 
 of burning anger; and then he was quiet again a 
 quiet with an icy chill in it. 
 
 "Miss Severoid did not call you to her rooms ? She 
 came out into the dining-room and told you?" 
 
 "Yessah." 
 
 McClure' s lips broke in a terrible smile. 
 
 "All right. Go back. I'll tell Mr. Fletcher." 
 
 The boy retraced his steps hurriedly, and McClure, 
 watching him go, thanked Heaven for the regulation 
 that did not allow native help to roam about any of the 
 beaches after eight o'clock. They were compelled to 
 remain indoors so that the watch-boys would have 
 fewer people to watch. That was at least one benefit 
 derived from the "curfew." 
 
 McClure saw the slow-moving light of one of the 
 back-beach watch-boys passing the rear of the mission- 
 hall, and waited till it came a little nearer. Then he 
 went to meet it. 
 
 "McClure," he announced in a low voice when the 
 boy was near enough. "I go beach-front." 
 
 "All ri', sah." 
 
 In a few moments the trader had slipped past the 
 mission-hall and had reached the deeper shadows under 
 the veranda. 
 
 Down near the water-front he saw two lights; one 
 stationary, the other moving back and forth over a 
 very limited beat, as though it did not care to get too
 
 86 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 far from the other light. This revealed dimly the 
 existence of a woman who seemed to be amusing her 
 self with the affections of both watch-boys making 
 one jealous of the other. 
 
 McClure did not mind. In fact, just then he pre 
 ferred the watch-boys' attention to be diverted, as it 
 permitted him to reach the water-tank under Miss 
 Severoid's veranda unchallenged and unobserved. 
 
 There was a white light burning in one of Miss Sev 
 eroid's rooms. The green one was turned very low. 
 
 Crouching in the deep shadows of the water-tank, 
 commanding the stairs and the stretch of the veranda- 
 rail above but deprived of a full view of the water 
 front McClure waited.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 INSTRUCTIONS 
 
 i 
 
 VERY much as Agigi had done, Clavering had ap 
 peared at Miss Severoid's side while she was looking 
 the other way. 
 
 "You sent for me?" 
 
 She wheeled in her chair and faced him. 
 
 "Gra Why! How how did you " 
 
 "By the stairs. They are easiest. Shall we talk 
 here or go inside?" 
 
 Miss Severoid rose nervously and glanced toward 
 the lights across Marsden's creek. 
 
 "You I that is you can't wait. I have to go 
 down to Perkins & Gray's to help put poor Mr. Fletch 
 er to sleep. He's delirious, and " 
 
 A throaty, derisive laugh interrupted her. 
 
 "You sent for me, I think. Which is more impor 
 tant? Fletcher's delirium or young Debenham?" 
 
 "But" 
 
 "Will Fletcher help you bring young Debenham 
 back?" 
 
 "Oh, bu-but you don't understand! I said I'd go, 
 and they are going to send some one for me and some 
 one to keep house while I'm gone. So you see, you 
 can't" 
 
 "Find a maid and send word to Fletcher that you 
 can't get down till later say an hour. Any excuse 
 will do. But why give any? Shall I call a maid for 
 von, or will you do it yourself ?" 
 
 87
 
 88 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Miss Severoid looked at him curiously. She was 
 neither angry nor annoyed ; just doubtful. But Clav- 
 ering's very masterfulness and quick grasp of the 
 situation of the moment were indications of the man 
 ner of man who could help her most. 
 
 "Which is it to be?" he persisted with impatience. 
 
 "Oh I " She paused a moment. "Very well; 
 wait. I'll get a messenger, and and perhaps you'd 
 better go inside. You are too conspicuous out here." 
 
 She smiled to him over her shoulder as she went 
 quickly toward the dining-room, and was gone little 
 more than a minute. When she returned he was seat 
 ed, as upon a previous visit, in the darkest corner of 
 her sitting-room. 
 
 "I sent the steward," she told him simply, turning 
 the green lamp low. Then, walking toward him, she 
 halted a few paces away. "You know why I sent for 
 you. Have you anything to say to me ?" 
 
 Clavering leaned forward. 
 
 "You want young Debenham brought back ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Does that matter?" 
 
 "What is he to you?" 
 
 Miss Severoid's head drooped a little. 
 
 "Please don't ask me any questions. Just tell me 
 if there's a chance to " 
 
 "There is a chance if you'll take it." 
 
 "Wh-what?" 
 
 Clavering leaned forward a little more. 
 
 "You must go for him." 
 
 "/must? How?" 
 
 "Because he won't come away otherwise. We could 
 send Cralla to talk to him, but I'm afraid that would 
 not do any good. He would probably not believe 
 Cralla, and he says he won't leave that filthy place until
 
 INSTRUCTIONS 89 
 
 he gets what he went for. I never met any one who 
 was so desperately in need of money and he won't get 
 it. The upshot of his particular form of madness will 
 be well, he'll die. But if you go for him " 
 
 "But how can / go there ? I thought " 
 
 "Cralla will take you." 
 
 "Crallal" Miss Severoid drew back, feeling rather 
 chilly. 
 
 "Oh, Cralla isn't so bad," Clavering murmured 
 gently. "Besides, it's your only chance. Of course, 
 I can understand that the idea of traveling alone in 
 Cralla's company isn't very proper or inviting. If 
 you'd care for a white escort, why not ask one of your 
 tea-drinkers to go along? Better still, your sandy- 
 haired friend? He probably knows more about the 
 country than any of the others." 
 
 The note of easy indifference, combined with the 
 magnanimous advice that she have McClure accom 
 pany her, was baffling. 
 
 For a little while she made no reply. 
 
 Clavering sat back in his chair, crossing his knees 
 with sublime nonchalance. It did not seem to matter 
 to him whether she was prepared to accept his sugges 
 tion or not. In fact, he appeared to be absorbed in 
 trying to locate the carpenter's beetle that was bumping 
 its hard-shelled back against the walls in its blind ef 
 forts to escape from the room. 
 
 One of the watch-boys struck "two bells." 
 
 "How how could we go?" Miss Severoid asked 
 quite suddenly, and picked up a fan as though to give 
 her nervous hands some employment. 
 
 "By canoe or launch part of the way, then on foot. 
 It isn't very far." 
 
 "And how would we get into the place? You talk 
 as if we had nothing to do but walk in and walk out 
 again."
 
 90 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Covering's teeth gleamed in a complacent smile. 
 Uncrossing his legs leisurely, he rose. 
 
 Some one, wishing to cross the beach toward Per 
 kins & Gray's, was calling for a lamp-boy. 
 
 Clavering listened a moment. 
 
 "That's Carmichael. Must be going down to see 
 your friend Fletcher. Perhaps he thinks you are play 
 ing nurse. 
 
 "But about Benin City. Don't be afraid. It is very 
 simple. Cralla will show you how, and I suggested 
 McClure in case you were not prepared to trust the 
 chief. Of course you had better not tell McClure 
 what I have told you. If you did, I'm afraid he 
 wouldn't go. He'd probably think you were insane." 
 
 "Bu-but that doesn't explain anything!" Miss Sever- 
 oid exclaimed, putting aside the fan again as if it both 
 ered her. "What are you going to do ? I ask you to 
 help me, and you suggest the names of other people. 
 I I thought you'd Oh, please -don't be so mys 
 terious ! I can't make my mind solve riddles." 
 
 Clavering went a step nearer to her, his head a little 
 upon one side still listening. 
 
 "There is nothing to explain. You simply take a 
 launch and provisions, go as far as you can by water, 
 which is to Saloko, and then get out and walk. You'll 
 go into Benin City, and you'll find Debenham waiting 
 for you. Then you'll say to him : 'Come out of this, 
 you idiot' or something like that; and if you mean 
 enough to him, he'll come. Then you'll get back to 
 your launch and return here. Simple, isn't it?" 
 
 Miss Severoid studied him in the semi-darkness in 
 credulously. 
 
 "I I how do I know you are speaking the truth ?" 
 
 "Thanks." 
 
 "Well it sounds ridiculous. It can't be so easy as 
 that!"
 
 INSTRUCTIONS 91 
 
 "Nothing is easy if one doesn't know how. Cralla 
 knows. He's a friend of Daka's, and of mine. If he 
 fails you, I fail you. Do you think I would trust you 
 in his hands if I were not sure of him?" 
 
 He laughed in soft deprecation of her fears, took 
 another quick step nearer to her. Before she could 
 escape he had wound his arms about her. 
 
 She gasped, struggled for a second or two, and then 
 was still. This was the price she had expected to pay 
 for Clavering's usefulness, and when his arms tight 
 ened and his lips brushed her forehead she did not 
 move. 
 
 "You are a wonderful little woman," he whispered. 
 "Wonderful and unafraid. But you hate me for this. 
 You can't scream because you need me, and you won't 
 fight because you think I might be annoyed and refuse 
 to help you. That's it, isn't it?" 
 
 Miss Severoid swallowed. She did not like to have 
 her motives read so plainly. Her lashes fell quickly, 
 as though she were apologizing to herself for having 
 made them so obvious. 
 
 "I I'm afraid it isn't altogether," she confessed 
 haltingly, and tried to make him believe that she meant 
 it. "You you're so masterful so big and and you 
 don't ask if you may. You just " 
 
 Clavering kissed her again on the lips this time 
 and his own were burning. 
 
 Miss Severoid shivered. 
 
 "Oh please! We we mustn't!" she gasped, and 
 drew away from him a little. "It isn't right, and 
 and we've got so much to talk about. Please, 
 just" 
 
 She slipped out of his embrace gently, running her 
 hands down his arms till she gripped his fingers, which 
 she held in soft imprisonment, smiling wonderfully up 
 at him, and pleading, too.
 
 92 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "Tell me why you can't go with me! You don't 
 seem to be in this at all." 
 
 Clavering's glance became troubled. Quite evident 
 ly she puzzled him. 
 
 He stood very still and stiff, gazing steadily down 
 at her. 
 
 "Then you don't altogether hate me?" 
 
 Miss Severoid laughed oddly swayed toward him 
 suddenly on tiptoe, kissed him, and slipped away again 
 in a second, releasing his hands. 
 
 "There!" 
 
 She stood otf at a safe distance, her eyes dancing in 
 roguish glee. 
 
 "Now don't let's be foolish any more just now. 
 One would think neither of us had reached years of 
 discretion. Tell me what part are you going to play ? 
 I need you, and I know you can help me more than 
 any one, and and I want you to come with me." 
 
 "Why?" It was very deliberate. 
 
 "Oh just just because." 
 
 She saw his hands clench stiffly, and the line his 
 mouth made frightened her a little. 
 
 "I am sorry, but I can't travel with you." 
 
 "Oh why?" 
 
 "Just because." A sardonic smile broke upon his 
 lips. "But I shall always be near. Don't forget that. 
 Cralla will know where to find me at any time in the 
 night or day, and I'll be at your side in an hour should 
 you need me." 
 
 Miss Severoid was doubtful again. A screeching 
 siren on the river made her jump. 
 
 "You are so mysterious," she complained finally, and 
 pouted deliciously. "And everything seems to be en 
 trusted to that beast Cralla. He knows everything, 
 and you won't tell me anything. How do you know he 
 won't turn traitor some day ?"
 
 INSTRUCTIONS 
 
 93 
 
 Clavering met her glance of childish inquiry very 
 steadily. 
 
 "Cralla won't turn traitor," he said evenly. "There 
 is no fear of that. And you must trust me to arrange 
 to help you in my own way. Surely McClure is 
 enough protection against any of Cralla's tricks. 
 
 "But" with a deprecatory gesture "that's settled. 
 Persuade McClure to go with you and make your ar 
 rangements with Cralla. And the quicker you start 
 the better chance you will have of arriving in time." 
 
 Miss Severoid's shudder was perceptible. For a 
 little while Clavering regarded her with uncomfortable 
 directness. 
 
 All at once his chin rose sharply. 
 
 "Here comes the worthy missionary," he announced 
 in a whisper. "He'll probably want to talk to you, so 
 I'd better be off. Come." 
 
 He stretched forth his arms. 
 
 Miss Severoid did not move. She listened, and 
 very faintly heard the sound of voices coming nearer. 
 
 Then she appeared suddenly to notice Clavering's 
 waiting arms. Lightly drawing away, she smiled and 
 shook her head. 
 
 "No. No more. Please go! I'm afraid they'll 
 catch you." 
 
 Clavering's arms descended slowly, and the look he 
 gave her seemed to penetrate to the back of her mind. 
 
 "Perhaps it is just as well. You'll need a few to 
 persuade McClure. He's a solid human. Good 
 night." 
 
 He slipped past her like a shadow and was gone, 
 leaving her to swallow his parting thrust as best she 
 could. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Steel seemed to be very near. She 
 heard them talking to a watch-boy heard his repeat 
 ed "Yessah Yes'm Yessah!" Standing directly
 
 94 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 under the hanging lamp at the top of the stairs, she 
 waited for them to come up. 
 
 There was no sign nor sound of Clavering. 
 
 Crouching in the shadows of the water-tank, Mc- 
 Clure saw Miss Severoid quite plainly her smile of 
 welcome to the missionary and his wife and the cor 
 uscating lights in her hair. The muscles of his jaws 
 stood out. 
 
 Then the watch-boy who had run to meet the mis 
 sionary was ambling away toward the water-front, 
 and a low, peculiar whistle came out of the blackness 
 beyond the stairway. 
 
 Almost instantly a dark shape appeared on the ve 
 randa-rail above came softly over, hung for a second, 
 a splendid target then dropped noiselessly upon the 
 water-tank. 
 
 McClure, almost under the outlaw's feet, made no 
 move to shoot; did not even reach for his revolver, 
 which was in its holster. He waited till Clavering 
 jumped lightly to the ground. 
 
 Then in an instant swift, silent, and terrible he 
 rose, wound his left arm around the unsuspecting out 
 law's neck, and with his right snatched at and secured 
 his prisoner's revolver. 
 
 There was a harsh, unlovely oath, smothered at birth 
 as McClure's forearm pressed violently across Claver- 
 ing's throat, and the hard rim of his own revolver dig 
 ging into his spine produced perfect peace. 
 
 "Quiet!" McClure growled, shifting his grip to 
 Clavering's collar. "And don't attempt to be clever, 
 or I shall be fatally unpleasant. We are going away 
 from here without any fuss. March 1"
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE FIGHT 
 
 CLAVERING drew a long, deep breath like a sigh. 
 
 He did not have to see McClure's face to know who 
 his captor was. The sound of his voice had been 
 enough, and Clavering had always had a sneaking re 
 spect for the big trader's prowess in several directions. 
 
 Under the circumstances that respect increased ten 
 fold. 
 
 McClure could not be flustered or tricked. He 
 could shoot, too fast and straight. What was most 
 important he undoubtedly would! 
 
 Clavering knew that, and, having no wish to die 
 indecently under Miss Severoid's windows or any 
 where else, for that matter he silently obeyed the in 
 sistent command voiced by McClure's revolver. 
 
 They passed under Miss Severoid's windows, the 
 murmur of voices coming from the missionary's quar 
 ters, and halted near the door of the deserted kitchen 
 until one of the back-beach watch-boys had vanished 
 under the awning of the mission hall. 
 
 Then they went forward again, crossing the space 
 between the silent native quarters and the hall, and 
 tried to slip into the palm-grove leading to Marsden's 
 beach without being observed. 
 
 At least that was McClure's intention. Clavering 
 had no choice. 
 
 But the watch-boy, not visible at first, called sud 
 denly from under the awning : 
 
 95
 
 96 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "Whodat?" 
 
 "McClure," that gentleman returned in sonorous 
 irritation, screening Clavering as best he could from 
 the boy's peering inspection. "Be all right." 
 
 "All ri', sah !" 
 
 They went on into the grove of palms, too full of 
 shadows to allow any one who wished to pass in a 
 hurry to be easily recognized. 
 
 And the lissome figure of a woman followed them, 
 slipping past the watch-boy like a black wraith while 
 his back was turned, and, coming to a halt when his 
 light came round again, hugged a palm so closely as 
 to seem a part of it. 
 
 There was a heavy, unlit hurricane lantern in her 
 hand. 
 
 "What's your program, Mac ?" Clavering asked with 
 cool and easy familiarity when they were out of the 
 watch-boy's hearing. "This is all very mysterious. 
 Why don't you shoot and make some one we both know 
 desperately unhappy ?" 
 
 McClure's teeth snapped audibly. 
 
 "Shooting's too good for you," he growled. "It's 
 too quick. My mango-tree would be better." 
 
 "But that wouldn't be a pleasant sight for a lady. 
 She'd see me hanging there, you know. Perhaps you 
 are medieval enough to want her to?" 
 
 Again that dull, dangerous glow came into Mc 
 Clure's eyes. For a few moments he was very near to 
 what his conscience would have called murder. In 
 fact, his finger trembled so uncertainly upon the trig 
 ger that he drew it away in fear of what it might do. 
 
 "I'm giving you a chance," he said thickly, "to die 
 like a man on my beach instead of where I found you. 
 Don't irritate me any more than you can help." 
 
 Clavering chuckled, quite as though he enjoyed the 
 prospect.
 
 THE FIGHT 97 
 
 "So that's your idea? Protecting the lady's fair 
 name and so forth. Splendid ! But what's your plan 
 when we get across the creek?" 
 
 "You'll see," McClure answered grimly, and thrust 
 his captive ahead of him over the little bridge. 
 
 Suddenly he stopped. 
 
 The flutter of loose cloth about swift-moving, naked 
 ankles came from behind. The sound was unmis 
 takable. 
 
 In an instant he swung Clavering around and looked 
 back into the inky blackness of the avenue of palms. 
 
 But as far as he could see there was no one there. 
 With a grunt of annoyance he went on again. 
 
 Almost immediately Ilora came out of hiding be 
 hind a tree, divesting herself of the long, telltale over- 
 cloth, which she swiftly folded about her like a belt. 
 Then, more like a shadow than ever and as silent, grip 
 ping the hurricane lantern tightly, she reached the 
 bridge and stopped. 
 
 McClure and Clavering had crossed it. A watch- 
 boy, standing on Marsden's oil-wharf, was waiting to 
 challenge them. 
 
 "Be all right, Dubla," McClure called before the boy 
 came near enough to see clearly. "We no need lamp." 
 
 "Allri', sah!" 
 
 The boy shuffled off the wharf and ambled down to 
 the breakwater. 
 
 McClure and his prisoner went on ; past the oil-yard 
 gate and the entrance to the warehouse; softly under 
 the white assistants' windows and along the gravel 
 path leading to the consulate so far along that Claver 
 ing, tight-lipped now, and beginning to feel the indig 
 nity of his situation more than its danger, came to the 
 conclusion that McClure intended turning him over to 
 the district commissioner. 
 
 Then, suddenly swerving from that course, McClure
 
 98 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 pushed him down a little beaten path that led across a 
 large open space which faced the river, and which was 
 facetiously called "the lawn" because it boasted an 
 anemic sort of grass. 
 
 In the center of that space the dark outline of the 
 powder-store loomed up. On the side farthest away 
 from all other habitation McClure halted. 
 
 The place was unusually desolate and dark and ad 
 mitted of uninterrupted quiet. Even the watch-boys 
 rarely patrolled so far away from the oil-yard and the 
 house, which were their principal cares. 
 
 Clavering did not know what to make of it, and 
 frankly said so. 
 
 Turning him about, McClure dug the revolver into 
 the center of his anatomy and declared very distinctly : 
 
 "Well I'll tell you. I might have shot you like a 
 dog any time within the past ten minutes and been 
 thanked for doing it. I might have turned you over 
 to the D. C. and watched you hang in the morning, or 
 I might have thrown you to my Kroo-boys. And you 
 know what they'd do." 
 
 Clavering knew well enough. Many Kroo watch- 
 boys had suffered at his hands, and a Kroo-boy, given 
 carte blanche to wreak his revenge, is very much like a 
 terrier. He pulls his victim apart. 
 
 "Very considerate, I'm sure," Clavering murmured 
 lazily; but his usual deprecatory smile was wanting, 
 and he appeared to be sizing up his captor to arrive at 
 the difference if any in their physical attain 
 ments. "But, since you haven't done any of those 
 things, what are you going to do? Tie me to a few 
 kegs of powder and light a slow fuse ?" 
 
 McClure peered into his face. 
 
 "I am going to make you fight !" he said slowly and 
 tensely. "No guns nothing but our bare hands and 
 when I've got all the satisfaction I want I'll let the
 
 THE FIGHT 99 
 
 D. C. do the rest. But maybe I'll break your neck. I 
 don't know yet. What do you say?" 
 
 Clavering winced, and his arms stiffened by his sides. 
 McClure's confidence in himself was, to say the least, 
 disconcerting. 
 
 "You are running this entertainment. When does 
 it begin?" 
 
 For answer McClure drew his own revolver and 
 tossed it from him in the direction of the powder- 
 house. Then, still retaining Clavering's weapon, he 
 rapidly searched him. Finding a serviceable clasp- 
 knife, he threw it after the revolver. 
 
 "Now!" 
 
 In a moment McClure had cast Clavering's weapon 
 aside toward the river and had wound an apelike 
 arm about the outlaw's waist, throwing the other arm 
 across his throat. 
 
 Slippery as an eel, all bone and sinew, with muscles 
 like steel wires, Clavering tried to wriggle free, con 
 fident that he could easily do so, and mentally chuckling 
 at McClure's conceit and folly. 
 
 But the chuckle died away into a quiet amazement. 
 
 He strained and tugged and leaped into the trader; 
 twisted his right leg about McClure's left and attempt 
 ed to affect his balance that way. 
 
 And McClure, rigid as a rock, laughed at him. 
 
 "Try some other trick, you whelp! There's your 
 chance." 
 
 The trader's imprisoned leg freed itself in a moment, 
 and in turn was twisted with startling swiftness about 
 Clavering's. A lurching heave of his massive shoul 
 ders a sudden jerking free of the apelike arm, and 
 Clavering toppled backward, clawed the air, and struck 
 mother earth with a jarring shock. 
 
 McClure stood over him grinning. It was not a 
 pleasant grin. He was breathing easily.
 
 ioo THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "Get up, man! I'm not half through with you." 
 
 Clavering's color was gray-white, and his cruel 
 mouth a wisp-like line that twisted in a terrible fury. 
 
 But even then, creeping warily to his feet, he knew 
 that, big and broad and powerful as he was, he was not 
 the equal of his bigger and broader and more powerful 
 antagonist at close quarters. The suddenness and ease 
 with which he had been thrown, even though it might 
 not happen so suddenly and easily a second time, had 
 told him that his opponent demanded a cautious respect. 
 
 As he rose again it was with the intention of avoid 
 ing the embrace of McClure's arms. 
 
 The trader stepped back a pace accommodatingly, 
 with a sneer in his very movement. 
 
 "You're a poor wrestler, Clavering," he taunted. "I 
 could break your neck very easily. Come a wee bit 
 nearer, man, and I'll " 
 
 A whiplike right halted the banter. 
 
 McClure stopped it with his shoulder, and his elbow 
 got in the way of a curving left that followed. 
 
 He grunted contentedly, lowered his head a little, 
 and a vicious smash plunged through Clavering's guard 
 and opened a nasty cut over his left eye. 
 
 Then the fight was on in earnest ; a battle of giants, 
 a grisly, spectral business in a darkness that was like 
 a shroud. The deep breaths they drew, the dull, sick 
 ening impact of their heavy fists, and the scuffling 
 movement of their feet were the only sounds they 
 made. 
 
 A distant watch-boy patrolled his beat in sublime 
 ignorance of the conflict, and a small launch, not very 
 far from the river-bank, sputtered fussily past on its 
 way to the consulate. 
 
 McClure, the bigger and stronger, was breathing 
 just a little deeper; but the dull glow in his eyes had 
 grown brighter.
 
 THE FIGHT 101 
 
 His mind was whispering exultantly that whenever 
 he chose he could close in upon Clavering and pos 
 sibly break his neck, after all. 
 
 He felt sure he could do it. There was a queer and 
 somewhat hideous satisfaction in the thought that he 
 could please himself in the matter. 
 
 Clavering, much faster and untiring, agile as a cat, 
 with arms that shot out like the tongue of a snake, cir 
 cled warily, yet fought as never before. 
 
 He had to ; and freedom was not the thought upper 
 most in his mind. 
 
 That McClure had had him at his mercy that he 
 had brought him there, out of reach and sight of every 
 one, and had thrown away all means of defense that 
 he had threatened to "break his neck," and seemed 
 likely to be able to do it, were truths and possibilities 
 that cut into the quick of Clavering's pride. 
 
 And as the warm trickle from the cut over his eye 
 threatened to impair his sight, his command over his 
 passions drifted away. The man beneath showed 
 through ; a snakelike man, savage, tricky, with a hell- 
 born hate burning fiercely in his eyes. 
 
 Faster and faster he fought. Presently there was 
 an ugly gash over McClure's cheek-bone and a swelling 
 on his forehead that would possibly be bluish-green in 
 the morning. McClure was bleeding copiously from 
 nose and mouth. Even when he got home again to 
 Clavering's already troubled eye the outlaw's speed and 
 fury seemed only to increase. 
 
 Darting in and out, pounding McClure's body as 
 though it were a drum, gliding out of reach of his 
 smashing rights, and ducking under hooks that might 
 have jarred his head from his shoulders and always 
 evading every effort the trader made to close in upon 
 him, Clavering finally drove a straight left flush upon 
 McClure's mouth.
 
 102 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 He snorted in his pain like a wounded bull a terri 
 fying sound; hunched his shoulders a little higher, 
 feinted, took a slanting blow on the side of the head 
 purposely, and lunging forward with all his weight 
 behind the blow, took Clavering full between the eyes, 
 hurling him back upon his heels. 
 
 For just such a chance had he been waiting. 
 
 Instantly, before the outlaw could recover his bal 
 ance, McClure leaped at him and drew him into a bear- 
 like embrace that promised to crack his ribs. 
 
 The earth slipped away from under Clavering's feet. 
 He struggled furiously, but felt himself being lifted 
 slowly up higher and higher as though his twisting, 
 writhing weight were of no consequence. 
 
 Then, just as he managed to free one arm and make 
 a frantic grab for McClure's bull throat, he was sud 
 denly twisted over with a painful wrench and the 
 trader's solid right knee pressed into the small of his 
 back. 
 
 He was helpless as a child, not because he could not 
 move, but because he was afraid to. One arm was 
 pinioned and the other practically useless, because Mc 
 Clure's hard right forearm was under his chin, for 
 his head back, and still back with horrible and delib 
 erate slowness 
 
 The fear of death was on Clavering's face. 
 
 "Will I do it?" McClure taunted, his voice thick and 
 hoarse with a passion that was not far from insanity. 
 "Will I, or will you hang? Man, but you're a sore 
 disappointment. I thought you were a fighter!" 
 
 Clavering's head went back just a little farther. 
 
 There was blood upon his lips and an icy perspira 
 tion on his forehead. His eyes were glassy. 
 
 McClure peered down at him and laughed. 
 
 "Huh! That frightens you, does it? I thought it 
 would. That's why I'm doing it."
 
 THE FIGHT 103 
 
 He moved Clavering's hapless head about an inch 
 or two so that his face was turned toward the river. 
 
 "Take a look at it. It's maybe your last. That's 
 Fletcher's launch you see, saving Carmichael the trou 
 ble of walking, and that's the Vampire's siren you hear 
 coming round the Saganna bend with some more of 
 Rama's whelps. 
 
 "All that fuss over you, too! You, who are lying 
 so quiet across my knee, without a thing to say for 
 yourself or all the devilment you've " 
 
 Something black and fearsome rose out of the earth 
 behind him. 
 
 A slight squeaking sound was all he heard, and then 
 a heavy, round thing crashed down upon his head. 
 
 "Och!" 
 
 The Scotch in McClure was responsible for that. 
 He lurched sidewise, and Clavering slipped from his 
 hands to the ground. 
 
 Before the trader could turn the thing struck again 
 and again. Accompanying the blows was a vicious 
 hissing that ended in a satisfied "Ah-h-h-h-h !" as he 
 sagged down in a motionless heap. 
 
 Ilora, heavy hurricane lantern in hand, stood over 
 him, waiting to see him move. 
 
 Water dripped from her scanty clothing as a result 
 of swimming the creek. Having crawled like a snake 
 through the grass for about fifty yards, she was very 
 dirty and savage-looking indeed. 
 
 McClure did not move. 
 
 The girl glanced quickly toward Clavering, as though 
 she wondered why he did not immediately rise. 
 
 But Clavering could not. 
 
 He had fainted !
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 NO ANSWER 
 
 CLAVERING was not a coward ; neither had he a weak 
 stomach. Battle and bullets held no terrors for him. 
 He had played with death so long and had faced it in 
 so many guises that the pastime had become almost 
 monotonous. 
 
 But he had never lain across another man's knee, 
 feeling his vertebrae snapping like a rotten stick. 
 
 That was both an undignified and a terrible way to 
 die. 
 
 Ilora bent over him and shook him, muttering harsh 
 ly in Jackrie the while. There was a new look of 
 disappointment upon her face. 
 
 For a few minutes, lying flat and close to the ground, 
 she had watched the fight. Though she did not pre 
 sume to understand McClure's queer methods con 
 sidering that he might have shot his captive out of 
 hand she did realize that he had fought Clavering 
 upon equal terms and had beaten him! 
 
 Which, to her, was as astounding as though the 
 Niger had run dry. 
 
 It took a little time for the amazing truth to be even 
 faintly appreciated. When Clavering stirred and stag 
 gered to his feet she shuffled away a few steps, sullen 
 and silent, allowing him to get an understanding of 
 things by himself. 
 
 And presently, though unpleasantly conscious of a 
 sickening sensation that his head would wabble from 
 
 104
 
 NO ANSWER 105 
 
 his shoulders at any moment, he became acquainted 
 with the whole situation. 
 
 Grunting a string of Jackrie gutturals and a few 
 thick words in English at the silent Ilora in commenda 
 tion for her timely assistance, he stood over the un- 
 moving McClure and tried to smile. 
 
 But the effort was not a success. It was rather 
 sheepish as though he appreciated thoroughly the fact 
 that it was no fault of his that their positions were not 
 reversed. 
 
 McClure was lying on his face. Clavering stooped, 
 and rolling him over on his back, felt for and found the 
 faint beating of his heart. 
 
 He straightened. His smile had faded and his 
 mouth was twisting queerly as he shrugged his shoul 
 ders significantly in the face of the fate that, once 
 more, had been kind to him. 
 
 Then, turning sharply upon Ilora, he told her to look 
 for his revolver, and indicated the general direction in 
 which McClure had thrown it. 
 
 But the girl's obedience was not so swift nor so 
 willing as usual. She shuffled toward the water's edge, 
 muttering. 
 
 Clavering paid no attention to her surliness; it did 
 not interest him enough. He looked about him at 
 the distant watch-boy's light moving lazily past a 
 clump of cactus near the boat wharf ; at the river to see 
 the transport department's launch Vampire steaming 
 into the consulate wharf with "some more of Rama's 
 whelps." 
 
 Then he glanced behind him through the gloom to 
 ward the gravel path, and along it in the direction of 
 the house and the breakwater, under the shadow of 
 which his canoe was moored. 
 
 A single light still burned in the white assistant's 
 living quarters. That was in Davie Tait's room, and
 
 106 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 the young man was perspiring freely over the expense 
 account for the month, preparing it for the homeward 
 mail the following day. 
 
 There was no one in sight save the watch-boys, and 
 watch-boys had never disturbed Clavering very much. 
 
 With an eye upon McClure, he turned and spent a 
 leisurely few minutes searching for the trader's re 
 volver, but gave it up when Ilora, without comment of 
 any sort, brought him his own. 
 
 McClure stirred and moaned. 
 
 Clavering thrust the revolver into its holster, went 
 to the trader's side, and peered down at him. Ilora 
 followed. 
 
 "He go die?" she asked sullenly. 
 
 "Not yet. Someday. Wall!" 
 
 A faint, malicious sneer played upon his lips, and 
 gripping Ilora's arm, he pulled her away. 
 
 She followed sulkily, still carrying the mission 
 watch-boy's lamp. 
 
 But once she looked back. There was an undecided, 
 savage sort of pity in her eyes. 
 
 Some time later, having no opinions of any kind 
 upon anything save that his head was unusually heavy 
 and painful, and that he would be all right if he did 
 not have to walk, McClure staggered past one of his 
 own astonished watch-boys and, somehow or other, 
 crawled up endless stairs and lurched heavily along the 
 veranda to his rooms. 
 
 Clavering was on his way to Akerri by that time, and 
 Ilora was lying upon her mat in the mud-hut behind the 
 mission, wide awake and thinking. 
 
 Later still, McClure's "chief steward" found him 
 huddled in his chair in his office, his face showing de 
 cided signs of conflict, his shirt spattered with blood
 
 NO ANSWER 107 
 
 about the shoulders a nasty mess. Immediately he 
 called Davie Tait, and together they roused McClure 
 from his semi-conscious state ; at the same time sending 
 for the doctor at the consulate. 
 
 McClure did not know that until afterward, when he 
 said things to his junior assistant that would not look 
 well in print. But the doctor declared that it was a 
 nasty fracture, and asked his patient how the devil he 
 had come by it and the marks upon his face. 
 
 Which was a question McClure did not wish any one 
 to put to him. 
 
 He said he didn't know much about it. His state 
 ment was : 
 
 "I took a walk down by the powder-house and some 
 one came up from behind and clumped me over the 
 head. They must have banged me about the face when 
 I was out, because I don't remember anything about 
 that part of the performance. Wonder if my powder- 
 store has been looted ?" 
 
 Then, when everybody had gone, he sent for Agigi, 
 who had returned from Perkins & Gray's post-haste. 
 
 The boy came in, a little sleepy, but as cherubic as 
 ever, and studied McClure's bandages without emotion. 
 
 "You 'member what you told me about bad white 
 man?" 
 
 "Yessah." 
 
 "You tell 'nother man?" 
 
 "No, sah." 
 
 "Then don't, or I'll cook you all same chicken, or 
 make monkey fuju man bring back your tail! 
 Savvy?" 
 
 Agigi winced. He did not like to be reminded of 
 the possibility that he had, once upon a time, worn a 
 tail. 
 
 "Yessah. I no tell no man, sah."
 
 io8 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "All right. Morning time come, you go for far side 
 of powder-store and find two small gun and one small 
 knife. Hide them in your cloth and bring them to me. 
 Savvy?" 
 
 "Yessah." 
 
 "All right. You savvy Dubla, the watch-boy for 
 bridge side?" 
 
 "Yessah." 
 
 "Then ask him sof'ly sof'ly which man come with 
 me from mission beach." 
 
 "Yessah." 
 
 Agigi departed, and very shortly afterward returned 
 with the information that Dubla, the watch-boy, 
 thought McClure's companion had been a "gov'ment 
 man." 
 
 McClure smiled dryly. 
 
 "All right. That's all. Don't forget two small gun 
 and one small knife on far side of powder-house. May 
 be just one gun. Bring what you find. Good night." 
 
 " 'Night, sah." 
 
 The boy went out very quietly. In the silence that 
 followed, McClure could almost hear his head throb. 
 It was a sweltering night, too, and sleep would not 
 come to his eyes. 
 
 His thoughts were not pleasant companions. 
 
 For a long time he lay in the smothering heat, won 
 dering who had so miraculously come to Clavering's 
 assistance. Then, realizing the futility of guesswork, 
 he dismissed the matter and allowed his mind to travel 
 across the creek again. 
 
 Which made him writhe and chew his mustache 
 viciously, and toss restlessly about till he finally rose 
 and sought the veranda. 
 
 It was a little cooler there, but not very much, and 
 his throat was ready to crack. "Four bells" struck 
 and told him it was 2 A. M. He could see dim shapes
 
 NO ANSWER 109 
 
 of produce-laden canoes gathering near the breakwater 
 to be ready for business with the rising of the sun. 
 
 Across the creek was darkness. She was asleep. 
 
 McClure leaned against a veranda upright for a 
 while, trying to forget the throb-throbbing of his head 
 and to shake off the dull, numbing heaviness that was 
 creeping over him. 
 
 Then, very deliberately, he entered his office. Be 
 cause his eyes were accustomed to the darkness, he 
 readily found his keys. 
 
 Going directly to the drawer of his library-table, he 
 opened it and produced the photograph of a shepherd 
 ess. 
 
 He tore it into many pieces and threw the fragments 
 into his waste-paper basket. 
 
 After that he went to bed again and lay in a 
 Hades of his own till the sun came. 
 
 Then, because nature took a hand upon her own 
 account, he slept. 
 
 Miss Severoid, looking anxiously, missed him from 
 his accustomed chair that day. 
 
 The previous evening, shortly after the missionary 
 and his wife returned, she had gone down to Perkins 
 & Gray's, accompanied by Mr. Steel, and had soothed 
 the delirious Fletcher to sleep so effectively that the 
 missionary had marveled at it and came very near to 
 the sin of envy. 
 
 Expecting to find McClure at Perkins & Gray's, and 
 being told by one of Fletcher's assistants that "Mr. Mc 
 Clure said he was going to call for you," she was nat 
 urally curious and a little anxious to know why he had 
 not done so. 
 
 Finding him absent from his usual corner on the 
 morning after, her curiosity increased. 
 
 Then at luncheon the missionary said newsily:
 
 no THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "The doctor was telling me this morning that Mr. 
 McClure was the victim of a queer assault last night. 
 Some one clubbed him on the head when he was down 
 near his powder store, and the doctor said the fracture 
 was a nasty one. Some of Rama's rovers, I fancy, 
 though nothing seems to have been stolen." 
 
 Miss Severoid said "Really !" in a blank sort of way, 
 and for the remainder of the meal was rather quiet and 
 taciturn. 
 
 A little later, in spite of the sizzling noonday heat 
 that drove men under cover to lie groaning and sweat 
 ing through two or three hours of unhappy idleness; 
 in spite of a premonition that she was very foolish and 
 was probably making a mountain out of a molehill, she 
 sat at her little writing-table and struggled with a note 
 that would not write. At least, not the way she want 
 ed it to. 
 
 She was very anxious impatient, in fact to know 
 just how badly McClure had been hurt ; whether, like 
 "poor Mr. Fletcher," he would have to be invalided 
 home a circumstance that would interfere with her 
 plans considerably. And she wanted to call upon him 
 in the cool of the afternoon to say how sorry she was, 
 and to gather, if she could, the full and complete ac 
 count of the "assault." 
 
 But for some inexplicable reason she found it very 
 difficult to express her sympathy without being more 
 formal than she wished to be, or more sisterly than she 
 cared to be in a letter. 
 
 Talking to McClure, with only him to hear, was one 
 thing; putting words down in black and white was 
 quite another. It surprised her to find herself being 
 impelled to use expressions of a decidedly softening 
 character that were not compatible with so short an 
 acquaintance. 
 
 However, she finally managed this :
 
 NO ANSWER in 
 
 DEAR MR. McCmRE: 
 
 I have just heard of your misfortune. If I may, I shall call 
 after four to see that you are being properly treated. I hope it 
 isn't as serious as I am led to believe. 
 
 Gratefully and sincerely yours, 
 
 ELIZABETH SEVEROID. 
 
 Placing it in an envelope, which she sealed and ad 
 dressed simply to "Mr. McClure," she rose from the 
 table and, as was her custom, sought a canvas deck- 
 chair which she preferred to any other. In it she 
 lolled through what was left of the lazy hours of the 
 day, dreamily gazing out upon the sun-scorched world, 
 watching the misty, fever-laden haze rise from the 
 swamps across the river. 
 
 It was too warm to expend even the exertion of 
 using a fan. 
 
 The decks of a "gin-tank" in mid-stream were de 
 serted, save for a black Liberian boatswain and one or 
 two of his boys, who dozed in the shadows of a deck 
 house. 
 
 A solitary canoe crawled past on its way to an up- 
 river market. The stark, motionless forms of natives 
 sleeping under the awning of Marsden's kernel house 
 reminded Miss Severoid unpleasantly of death. 
 
 Down near the water-front the golden yellow clay 
 baked and cracked in Heaven knew how many degrees 
 Fahrenheit. A smothering, gasping silence hung over 
 all the earth. 
 
 There were two hours of that. Then the ringing of 
 bells upon every beach, save those of the mission and 
 the consulate, called the enforced idlers from their rest 
 less, unhealthy slumbers, back to material things again. 
 
 The white assistants at the trading stations, pale 
 and sunken-eyed, some of them gray like a washed-out 
 rag, dragged their fevered, perspiring bodies on leaden 
 feet back to work, each day finding it just a little 
 harder.
 
 112 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Some of those assistants, endowed with wisdom, 
 complete their first term of two years, and reaching 
 home again stay there. 
 
 The others? 
 
 Some of them have been known to live through 
 three "contracts" six years. 
 
 It is a short life without mirth. 
 
 Miss Severoid saw Davie Tait reopen the kernel 
 store, and rising, went to the dining-room door and 
 called a maid. 
 
 The chief steward, who was enjoying a siesta in a 
 cubby-hole of a place in the rear, roused himself lazily 
 and answered, and Miss Severoid gave him the note to 
 McClure with positive instructions to have it delivered 
 immediately. 
 
 "Wait for answer," she added as an afterthought. 
 
 "Yes'm. I busy, m'm. I sen' gell, m'm?" 
 
 "All right." 
 
 The steward went back to the "galley," encountered 
 Ilora in the doorway, and constituted her his messenger. 
 
 "Foh Massa MaClu," he said briefly. "M'm Sev'- 
 roi' say wait foh ansah. Savvy?" 
 
 Ilora took the note and grinned. 
 
 The steward, unfortunately, mistook the meaning of 
 that grin. In the succeeding minute he was nursing 
 the thumb of his right hand which Ilora's outraged dig 
 nity had made her bite upon, with the instincts of her 
 cannibalistic great grandparents in the deed. 
 
 Then, clutching Miss Severoid's note, she fled 
 straight to McClure; or rather, to Agigi, who stood 
 between. 
 
 Agigi took the note and told her to wait. But she 
 followed him and halted in the doorway of McClure's 
 office as the trader, with his head swathed in bandages 
 and garbed in a light-weight dressing-gown and slip 
 pers, came from his bedroom.
 
 NO ANSWER 113 
 
 Agigi gave him the note and he read it, hesitating a 
 little upon the name "Elizabeth." Then he looked 
 from under his lowering eyebrows at Ilora, who fidget 
 ed and scuffled her feet. 
 
 "You be maid at mission beach?" McClure asked 
 thickly, while Agigi, with a scowling glance at the girl, 
 went leisurely back to his post. 
 
 "Yessah." 
 
 "You be Warrigirl?" 
 
 Ilora acknowledged the compliment by grinning. 
 Warri girls were the belles of the Delta. 
 
 "Yessah." 
 
 "Umph!" 
 
 McClure looked out through the open windows for 
 fully a minute, and his great hands crushed Miss Sev- 
 eroid's note unmercifully. 
 
 Ilora watched. Ignorant and savage as she was, 
 she was first of all a woman, and she knew where Mc 
 Clure had captured Clavering the previous evening. 
 
 The muscles of his jaw bulged prominently. 
 
 "There is no answer," he said, and turning abruptly, 
 went back into his bedroom, sharply closing the door 
 behind him. 
 
 Ilora did not move for a moment or two. There 
 was a dull, phlegmatic look upon her face. 
 
 Then, muttering something in Jackrie that did not 
 sound pretty, she shrugged her shiny black shoulders 
 and scuffled away, spreading her face in an unholy 
 grin. 
 
 Her mutterings, translated, ran: 
 "When a Jackrie woman loves two men at the same 
 time, one of the three always dies. Usually the 
 woman." 
 
 That was why she grinned. 
 
 She did not like Miss Severoid very much.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 ARRANGEMENTS 
 
 UPON receiving McClure's negative reply to her 
 note, Miss Severoid did not fly into a rage nor wipe 
 McClure's name from the slate of her memory. She 
 bit upon her amazement and chagrin, and swallowing 
 them with considerable difficulty, tried to understand. 
 
 Then she remembered that McClure had said to 
 Fletcher's assistant that he would call for her, and the 
 "ague possibility that he knew of Clavering's visit be 
 came a disturbing probability ! It was the only thing 
 she could think of that could possibly account for his 
 startling change of front. 
 
 But she did not call upon him that afternoon to try 
 to explain, or to receive an explanation. Nor did she 
 call any afternoon, nor any time. 
 
 That was not her way. 
 
 He would come to her when she wanted him. 
 
 However, several suns rode scorchingly over Seg- 
 wanga's galvanized roofs ; tornadoes came and torren 
 tial rains descended, making the swamps more swampy ; 
 and several other little things happened before Miss 
 Severoid but that comes later. 
 
 Fletcher went home, babbling eternal devotion to 
 two blue eyes and a crown of dull gold hair; and for 
 got about them when he reached Las Palmas. There 
 a dark, Spanish beauty deprived him of his senses and 
 his ready cash and left him to the mercy of untipped 
 stewards. 
 
 Dawson, the district commissioner, whose knee had 
 
 114
 
 ARRANGEMENTS 115 
 
 stopped a rebel bullet, also departed, telling Miss Sev 
 eroid that he was "Awf'ly sorry to go," and that he 
 would be "jolly glad" if she would call on his people in 
 Kensington when she got back to London. 
 
 "They'd be wild to know you, since you've been so 
 good to me." 
 
 And Miss Severoid smiled queerly and said in a far 
 away voice that it would be a pleasure. When he had 
 gone she tore up the address he had given her. 
 
 Clavering was silent, and Cralla remained away as 
 the days dragged their torrid length to a close, until 
 Miss Severoid became anxious again, even to the point 
 of showing it. 
 
 But McClure's face healed, and his head was re 
 leased from the smother of bandages in time to allow 
 him to attend the funeral of his senior assistant, who 
 contracted blackwater fever at three o'clock one after 
 noon and was buried at seven that evening. 
 
 The corners of Davie Tait's mouth were bluish-white 
 that night. He made only a pretense of eating dinner. 
 McClure, who understood, paid a visit to the young 
 man's room afterward and found him huddled in a 
 chair, gazing fearfully out toward the cemetery and 
 fingering the butt of his ever-ready revolver as though 
 he loved it. 
 
 "Funkitis" is sometimes as dangerous as other more 
 scientifically determined maladies that are pronounced 
 to have fatal results. McClure did not speak at first ; 
 just strode over, collared the weapon, and pulled Davie 
 to his feet. 
 
 The boy whined and shrank from him. 
 "I'd like to go over the outstanding kernel checks 
 with you, Mr. Tait," McClure said mildly. "I think 
 some of them must have been paid, and we must have 
 forgotten to mark them off. Any trouble with Balli 
 this morning?"
 
 Ii6 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Balli was a Sobo trader and Davie's pet aversion. 
 
 He swallowed and stood a little straighten His 
 teeth stopped chattering, and he was palpably ashamed. 
 
 "N-no," he admitted throatily. "He knows better 
 than to monkey with me. B-but I had to boot one of 
 his boys for trying to sell me the same bushel twice." 
 
 McClure gripped his arm and turned him toward 
 the door. 
 
 "Yes? How was that?" 
 
 And Davie, gathering voice and steadiness and a 
 healthy volubility, went on to explain the circumstances 
 of the attempted theft; while McClure, listening very 
 attentively to the recital of a time-worn trick, led his 
 gradually quieting assistant along to his own quarters, 
 where he made him work and sweat the fear of death 
 out of his system. 
 
 Later, when Davie had returned to his room and had 
 fallen into a comparatively restful sleep, McClure tip 
 toed in to "have a look at him," and stood for a little 
 while watching him breathe. 
 
 "Umph! Sleep with your mouth open, eh? Per 
 haps I'd better send you home before the rains become 
 real devilish, or I may have another of these damned 
 letters to write." 
 
 He stooped and gently wiped the perspiration from 
 the boy's forehead. Then he returned to his office and 
 reluctantly began upon a letter to the deceased assist 
 ant's mother, glancing sullenly and disturbedly across 
 the creek now and then. He wondered why Miss Sev- 
 eroid stayed up so late. 
 
 Both her green and white shaded lamps were burn 
 ing brightly. 
 
 Just then, however, Miss Severoid was not even at 
 home. But she was rapidly getting there. 
 
 Seated in a shell-like canoe, hoping the thing would 
 not capsize, and watching the easy, steady sweep of
 
 ARRANGEMENTS 117 
 
 Ilora's paddle, she was wondering if the girl could 
 really be trusted. 
 
 In a note she had received from Clavering that 
 morning a note she found on her writing table after 
 breakfast he had said that Ilora was one of Cralla's 
 girls. It would be perfectly safe, he wrote, to meet 
 Cralla and himself that evening at the mouth of the 
 Akerri Creek, which was immediately below Bates & 
 Mahler's beach. 
 
 The object was to make definite plans with the chief 
 of Akerri for the proposed journey to Benin City. 
 
 Naturally, Miss Severoid had hesitated at first and 
 had battled in a state of indecision all day. In spite of 
 Clavering's assurance, she did not trust Ilora enough to 
 be comfortable; and that the girl was in Cralla's em 
 ploy, and had been at the mission as a maid for sev 
 eral weeks, was a disturbing thought. 
 
 It made her angry at first, then coldly deliberate and 
 very careful ; so careful that there was a revolver in 
 her hand-bag. 
 
 But it was the death of McClure's senior assistant 
 that decided her, because it appalled. 
 
 The swiftness of it was staggering. In the grip of 
 a great fear that seized her, she ridiculed her puny mis 
 givings, became determined desperate, in fact. She 
 was now returning home feeling that it hadn't been 
 such a desperate business after all, even though Claver 
 ing was not there and she had been compelled to inter 
 view the chief alone. 
 
 Ilora had piloted her past the watch-boys in a man 
 ner providing a lesson in stealth that made her feel 
 rather creepy and afraid, but she had emulated the 
 Jackrie girl's methods with an aptitude that was star 
 tling even to herself. 
 
 And then they had sped swiftly down-river through 
 an opaque darkness to the rendezvous.
 
 ii8 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Finding Chief Cralla alone, Miss Severoid had pro 
 duced her revolver with such haste and directness that 
 Cralla almost capsized his own canoe and Ilora's in his 
 anxiety to get away. 
 
 Ilora simply shrugged her shoulders and wound her 
 arms about her knees ; but Cralla, muttering in Jackrie 
 and leaning over the gunwale of his canoe, gripped 
 that of Ilora's as though he were afraid to hold on, yet 
 disinclined to let go. 
 
 "Where is he ?" Miss Severoid demanded, trembling 
 like a leaf, yet keeping the revolver pointed to 
 Cralla's broad chest. "Why isn't he here?" 
 
 "He he no can come," the chief sputtered desper 
 ately, and seemed to be trying to appreciate the fact 
 that he was being discomfited by a woman. "He say 
 he sorry he no fit to come. I talk true. Lie be so-so 
 small-boy talk. I be chief! I be big man for my 
 country ! My mouf talk true word all time !" 
 
 "Oh rubbish!" Miss Severoid was more angry 
 than afraid now. "What did Mr. Clavering tell you 
 to say to me ? When are we to go, and how ? What 
 plans have you made or have you made any ?" 
 
 Cralla recoiled from the storm of questions almost 
 as much as he did from the revolver, and his respect 
 for the beautiful but terrible white lady apparently in 
 creased. He sniveled. 
 
 And to the last moment of that strange meeting, 
 with fireflies flickering, and the constant buzz and hum 
 of queer insects in her ears with other canoes pass 
 ing the pitlike mouth of the creek like fantoms, the 
 dip and swish of their paddles sounding not unlike the 
 rustle of a shroud Miss Severoid dominated the pro 
 ceedings entirely and arrived at an understanding of 
 what was expected of her in a very definite manner. 
 
 The possibility of immediate danger became a neg 
 ligible quantity with each passing minute. Though
 
 ARRANGEMENTS 119 
 
 she could not see Cralla's face very well, she judged 
 by his manner of disclosing his plans of the trip that 
 they had been well thought out, and that he was com 
 paratively sincere in his intentions and was willing to 
 give her the benefit of his services ungrudgingly be 
 cause Clavering said so. 
 
 He did not enthuse, however, upon McClure being 
 one of the party. This made Miss Severoid only the 
 more determined to have the trader's company. She 
 said so forcefully, and Cralla shrugged his shoulders 
 indifferently and made no further comment. 
 
 Advising that any maids or boys brought along 
 should be very carefully selected, he suggested that 
 Ilora be Miss Severoid's choice for a maid. Though 
 she demurred at that, she did not argue the point. 
 Ilora, with her face buried between her knees, grinned 
 evilly. 
 
 "They would be ready to start," as Cralla put it, 
 "four day pass" ; which meant Tuesday of the follow 
 ing week. 
 
 Returning to the mission in perfect safety, and 
 reaching her room by way of the deserted kitchen and 
 dining-room, Miss Severoid dismissed Ilora pleasantly 
 enough. The Jackrie girl having gone to her mat in 
 the mud hut, her mistress stood for some little time 
 watching the light that burned in McClure's office. 
 
 The missionary and his wife had retired an hour 
 before, and the beach was very still. 
 
 Then, suddenly yet deliberately, Miss Severoid blew 
 out the white-shaded lamp, leaving the green burning 
 brightly; and, with another glance across the creek, 
 she slipped out into the dining-room and down the rear 
 stairs, coming to a halt in the kitchen doorway. But 
 only for a moment. 
 
 The back-beach watch-boy's lamp wagged to the 
 right of the mission hall; and when the boy turned
 
 120 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 and went the other way, Miss Severoid gathered her 
 skirts firmly in both hands and tiptoed swiftly past 
 him, with but a faint flutter of petticoats, into the 
 grove of palms. Along this she sped at breakneck 
 pace till she reached the bridge. 
 
 There, panting and leaning heavily upon the wooden 
 rail, she stopped to listen and to wait. 

 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 McCLURE was not compelled to write his late senior 
 assistant's mother. He had already cabled Marsden & 
 Co.'s home office in Liverpool, which was all that was 
 expected of him, apart from gathering the deceased's 
 belongings together and shipping them home. 
 
 But he perspired over that voluntary epistle of con 
 solation, told soothing lies about the dead, and omitted 
 to mention that much cold beer is sometimes respon 
 sible for blackwater fever, particularly when the sea 
 sons are changing. 
 
 I can assure you that everything that could be done 
 
 He raised his head, dabbed the perspiration from his 
 forehead and neck, glanced out through his windows 
 and saw that Miss Severoid's white-shaded lamp was 
 out, while the other with the green shade burned 
 steadily. 
 
 Instantly he sprang to his feet with a half -smothered 
 exclamation of surprise and anger, remembering at 
 once that when the white light went out first it was the 
 signal that Miss Severoid needed help. 
 
 It was no time for questions or for the harboring of 
 resentment, he told himself hurriedly, tightening his 
 belt and grabbing up his revolver as he went out. He 
 could blow Clavering's head off and be of service to 
 the whole community. 
 
 121
 
 122 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Miss Severoid's share in the matter was simply that 
 of the flame that had singed the moth's wings, making 
 the shooting easier. 
 
 And any one who would have had the temerity to 
 suggest any deeper motive for McClure's speed would 
 have been in danger of his life. 
 
 Swinging down-stairs to the beach three steps at a 
 time, yet quietly, he ran a few yards, walked, then ran 
 again, passing the surprised watch-boy with a grunted 
 "All right, Dubla," and, reaching the bridge, made its 
 long-suffering planks creak under his pounding weight. 
 
 Then he plunged into the avenue of palms. 
 
 "Mr. McClure!" 
 
 He stopped as though lassoed from behind, and 
 whirling about, heard the flutter of skirts and saw a 
 shadow come from behind a palm. 
 
 "It it's me," the shadow said naively. "And 
 and he's gone. I ran away from him down the back 
 stairs." 
 
 She was at McClure's side very quickly, gripping his 
 arms and looking affrightedly up into his face. 
 
 He did not speak. But she could feel him tremble 
 as though he were afraid of her. 
 
 "I meant to come right over the bridge to you," she 
 confided simply. "But your watch-boy frightened me, 
 and I didn't want everybody to know that that you 
 know what I mean?" 
 
 A short pause. 
 
 "Is your head all better?" 
 
 McClure stiffened. 
 
 "Thank you. It is quite better." 
 
 Another pause. They had the world to themselves. 
 
 "You you're angry with me ?" 
 
 Something like a snort of annoyance came from the 
 depths of McClure's chest. 
 
 "No. Not at all. How do you know he is gone ?"
 
 THE "TRAP" 123 
 
 "Because I heard him," Miss Severoid lied deliber 
 ately. "He he's a beast !" 
 
 "Is he? Why tonight any more than any other 
 time?" 
 
 Then Miss Severoid knew why McClure had be 
 come cold and distant. Her hands fell from his arms 
 and, turning her face in the direction of the mission, 
 she moved away from him without another word, and 
 drifted slowly into the darkness. 
 
 McClure did not stir for quite a while. 
 
 Then he followed. There was a furrow of pain be 
 tween his eyes. 
 
 At the mission-end of the avenue Miss Severoid 
 stopped and waited. 
 
 "Why do you follow me?" she asked, and her tone 
 indicated that she was a little tired of misunderstand 
 ings and of fighting. 
 
 "To be sure that you reach home safely/' 
 
 Yet another pause. Neither moved. The watch- 
 boy's lamp glimmered through the trees. 
 
 "I I wish you wouldn't be so terribly proper. I'd 
 rather you got decently angry and swore. But you 
 can take me to the foot of the stairs if you like." 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 "Oh bosh!" 
 
 She suddenly linked her arm in his and, without fur 
 ther ado, started off again, crossing the mission beach 
 without attempting to elude the watch-boy. Calling 
 softly to him that it was "All right," she led McClure 
 to the kitchen doorway. 
 
 There she halted again. 
 
 "I'll go this way," she whispered. "Because I 
 might wake Mrs. Steel if I went up the front stairs. 
 It it's terribly dark in there, isn't it ?" 
 
 "Yes, quite," McClure agreed, peering into the 
 kitchen. "Shall I find a lamp for you?"
 
 124 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "N-no ; never mind. And if I break my neck on the 
 stairs it wouldn't matter much, would it ?" 
 
 "That depends on what your life is worth to you," 
 McClure returned in sonorous ease. "Are you quite 
 sure he is gone? If you ran away from him, how do 
 you know he isn't waiting for you to come back 
 again ?" 
 
 "Don't! You frighten me! Per perhaps you'd 
 better better come up and make sure." 
 
 McClure smiled under cover of the darkness and 
 secretly congratulated himself for having been so clever 
 as to frighten her into proffering the invitation. 
 
 "Yes, I think I'd better," he agreed, and they moved 
 into the deeper darkness of the kitchen. 
 
 Miss Severoid's soft left hand groped a little while, 
 then crept trustingly into McClure's giant right. She 
 felt him start, stop, and then go on again breathing 
 audibly. 
 
 They climbed the stairs in silence, and crept quietly 
 into the dining-room ; then, leading the way on tiptoe 
 and pulling on McClure's index finger, Miss Severoid 
 very carefully piloted him into her sitting-room. 
 
 "He's gone!" she sighed thankfully after a quick- 
 glance around the room. "I suppose he thought I'd 
 wake everybody up. Sit down a minute till I get my 
 breath." 
 
 And she led him to a chair, sat him down in it, and 
 stood off a pace or two, stirring up the air with a 
 dainty fan and smiling rather sadly over the top of it. 
 
 McClure felt ill at ease and looked it. He had a 
 curious sensation of having been trapped (which he 
 had been), and though the jaws of the trap were soft 
 as velvet, they held more firmly than any steel. 
 
 Then Miss Severoid put the fan aside. She rarely 
 used one, because "you always feel so much warmer 
 afterward."
 
 THE "TRAP" 125 
 
 "Do you know that you have been very disagree 
 able ?" she asked quietly, standing scarcely a foot away 
 from McClure's chair. "And I thought I could trust 
 you not to judge harshly or in haste. But I'm going 
 away next week Tuesday and since you are here, I 
 thought I'd tell you that you won't have to bother 
 about me after that. It will be a relief, won't it ?" 
 
 McClure's face showed some of his surprise. He 
 choked down the rest. 
 
 "Being transferred to Calabar, I suppose?" he asked, 
 trying to speak as though it did not matter very much 
 to him. 
 
 "Oh, no, nothing like that. I'm going to Benin 
 City." 
 
 "Ben" 
 
 McClure's mouth remained open. Then he laughed 
 shortly in ridicule. 
 
 "That should be very interesting." 
 
 "Yes, I think so, too. Chief Cralla is going to take 
 me there. He knows all about the place." 
 
 "You you're mad!" 
 
 McClure started from his chair, thunder in his face 
 and lightning in his glance. 
 
 Miss Severoid calmly drew back a pace. 
 
 "Sh! You might wake Mrs. Steel," she cautioned 
 softly. "And you don't look a bit nice that way." 
 
 McClure swallowed, subsided slowly, and sat quite 
 still. 
 
 For a longer time than he had any idea of he made 
 no further comment, but his heavy look of interroga 
 tion did not wander from her face for the fraction of 
 a second. She returned his scrutiny quietly, a quaint 
 smile lurking in the corners of her mouth. 
 
 "What is this?" McClure asked moodily at last 
 "A joke?" 
 
 Miss Severoid shook her head.
 
 126 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "No. Serious as can be. I want to go to Benin 
 City, and I am going to start next Tuesday with Chief 
 Cralla. If we can't get a launch, we are going to take 
 Cralla's forty-paddle canoe and, of course, a whole lot 
 of things to eat. That's why I'm telling you about it, 
 because if I placed the order for provisions with any 
 one else, the consulate people might hear of my expe 
 dition, and be mean enough to prevent me going. But 
 I can trust you not to say a word about it, can't I ?" 
 
 McClure smiled in a sickly fashion, not at all sure 
 why he did so, because he was groping in an outer 
 mental darkness that made him feel very stupid and 
 unequal to the occasion. He tried to say something 
 something sententious and fitting that would grip the 
 whole business at once, fling it aside, and have done 
 with all the damn tomfoolery. 
 
 To begin with, Benin City and suicide were correla 
 tives. They went hand in hand like "father and son." 
 Life was the cheapest thing in the place. Particularly 
 a white man's, which had no value whatever except as 
 a source of amusement for those who loved to watch 
 its light flicker and die slowly, very slowly. 
 
 So, of course, that was impossible ; and as for travel 
 ing alone with Chief Cralla 
 
 McClure's vocabulary did not suffice. It became 
 pale and weak and doddering when he tried to say what 
 he thought of that! 
 
 Consequently, he did not say anything about it ; just 
 sputtered for a minute or two. Then, rising suddenly 
 to the full measure of his seventy-four inches, he de 
 cided tersely : 
 
 "I won't fill your order for provisions." 
 
 Miss Severoid's mouth drooped instantly and piti 
 fully, and the look she gave him made him feel that 
 perhaps he had been unnecessarily brutal. 
 
 The trouble, he told himself quickly, was that she
 
 THE "TRAP" 127 
 
 did not understand. Some one had been filling her 
 head with a lot of nonsense Clavering probably ; and 
 some one else would have to knock it out again but 
 in a manner somewhat more gentle than his first 
 attempt. 
 
 Then, she was standing very near him. It was diffi 
 cult to understand how she had come so near. All the 
 world around him, its scattered lights, its indistinct 
 sounds, its silences, and its gloom faded. 
 
 "Do you really mean that you won't fill my provi 
 sion order?" 
 
 Her voice was soft, her glance of trusting confidence 
 still softer. And the tips of her fingers were upon his 
 arm, lightly, so that he knew they were there and no 
 more than that. 
 
 "But, good heavens, Miss Severoid ! You " 
 
 "Please! No excuses or reasons or arguments. I 
 know them all already. Benin City is terrible and 
 wicked and filthy and cruel, and I may never come 
 back. But I am going there, if I have to go alone and 
 crawl on my hands and knees to it. Even if I have no 
 food ; even if oh, in spite of everything that isn't nice 
 or right or proper or sane! I'm going! That's set 
 tled like the laws of the Medes and Persians. 
 
 "Now, will you fill my order ? Yes or no ?" 
 
 McClure made no answer, but subconsciously his 
 arms crept up, and gently gripping her arms, he held 
 her away from him, and looked into her face as though 
 he were studying every line and curve with a micro 
 scope. 
 
 Miss Severoid did not mind; at least she made no 
 objection. 
 
 "I see," he said sonorously at last. 
 
 "What?" Miss Severoid smiled expectantly. 
 
 "Er nothing. Might I ask why you want to go to 
 Benin City so desperately?"
 
 128 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Miss Severoid made a delightful little grimace which 
 said that questions were barred. 
 
 "Perhaps I'll tell you if you promise to let me have 
 the provisions," came the careful answer. 
 
 McClure's grip upon her arms relaxed hopelessly. 
 
 "Please sit down. I can talk to you better that 
 way." 
 
 Somewhat dazed, and feeling his command of him 
 self and his convictions regarding the impossibility of 
 everything slowly diminishing, McClure resumed his 
 seat. The dull clanging of a beach-bell told him it was 
 eleven-thirty, but he was not thinking of that when 
 Miss Severoid stood beside his chair, and seemed 
 likely to perch herself upon the arm of it at any 
 moment. 
 
 "Do you know that sometimes you are just a great 
 big boy?" she reproved gently, and her eyes glowed 
 with motherliness. "Most men are. You want to be 
 petted and pampered and made much of, and you sulk 
 and jump to all sorts of nasty conclusions about things. 
 Not because you think your conclusions are true, but 
 because you want to justify your sulkiness with some 
 thing or other. 
 
 "I might tell you why I allowed some one to come 
 here and then you'd be all better again, and you'd be 
 miserable, too, for thinking whatever you did think. 
 But I won't tell you. I won't pamper your vanity that 
 far. Because if you won't give me these old provi 
 sions I'll just do without them. But please don't be 
 mean. Just help me and and perhaps I might even 
 let you go with me !" 
 
 She laughed teasingly down at him, and saw a glim 
 mer of hope in his face. His answering smile was a 
 shame- faced affair, and he looked as if he had been 
 lectured and did not know what to say in his own 
 defense.
 
 THE "TRAP" 129 
 
 But the dogged sort of pride he had helped him a 
 little. 
 
 "How er that is how do you know I would go, 
 even if you were so very good as to give me a chance 
 to commit suicide that way?" 
 
 Miss Severoid's glance ridiculed the possibility of 
 his going. 
 
 "Oh, I was only joking. I wouldn't ask you to go 
 wouldn't have it on my conscience. You see, I 
 know where I am going and why, and I know 
 the chance I am taking in traveling alone with 
 Cralla, and and trusting to the advice of some one 
 else. But you don't know anything about it. All you 
 know about me is that I was a shepherdess once and 
 that isn't very much, is it ?" 
 
 McClure went a little farther out to sea. He tried 
 desperately to understand and to frame a question 
 that might help to elucidate matters. 
 
 "You that is you have a very particular reason 
 in fact a desperate reason for wanting to go to Benin 
 City?" 
 
 "Isn't that obvious?" 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so. And Clavering, after some 
 gentle persuasion, offered his advice?" 
 
 "M-hm." She said it like a child of ten. 
 
 McClure regarded her in silence, very much 
 troubled. 
 
 "And you are going to take his advice ?" 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 A pause. McClure chewed upon his mustache 
 with a cloud hovering over his eyes. Miss Severoid 
 appeared to be interested in a sand-colored house-lizard 
 pursuing a fly, and there was nothing in her expression 
 that even hinted at an understanding of the danger in 
 the venture upon which she was so determined to 
 embark.
 
 1 30 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "Why Cralla?" McClure asked at last. 
 
 "Cralla is a friend of Daka's and knows the place." 
 
 "Umph! And friend Clavering? What's his share 
 in the plot?" 
 
 "He's not going," idly moving toward a small table 
 and picking up the fan again. 
 
 "Not going! Do you expect me to believe that 
 Clavering hasn't some ulterior motive in " 
 
 "He may have," indifferently. "I haven't had time 
 to bother about that. Without him I could do nothing. 
 With him I believe I can do anything. And I think 
 you know it, though you are too stubborn to admit it. 
 
 "Anyway, you're not so horrified as you were at 
 first, and presently you'll begin to think that it might 
 be possible to go even to Benin City and come back 
 alive. Of course, you haven't the incentive I've got. 
 That makes a difference. 
 
 "I am going from Akerri Creek on Tuesday night 
 at twelve, and I'd like the provisions and things to be 
 there at eleven-thirty. If you'd like to bring them 
 yourself and say good-by to me, you may. Clavering 
 won't be there. Just Cralla and his boys and my maid 
 and I. I'll send you the provision-list to-morrow or 
 next day. Will that do?" 
 
 McClure wanted to say no to rise and condemn the 
 venture roundly and pronounce it to be a dastardly 
 trick of Clavering's to inveigle Miss Severoid away 
 from the safety of the settlement into 
 
 But McClure's mind dared not go any further than 
 that. 
 
 And something he had seen in Miss Severoid's face 
 when he had studied it so closely had told him it would 
 be useless to argue or try to dissuade; an indefinable 
 something in the set of her firm little jaws that made 
 danger and death seem wofully insignificant. 
 
 So he made no further comments ; just rose slowly
 
 THE "TRAP" 131 
 
 to his feet. She backed away from him as though she 
 were a little afraid. 
 
 The beach bell said it was twelve o'clock. 
 
 "Very well. Send the provision-list over any time. 
 I'll look after it." 
 
 "Oh thank you!" 
 
 Her hand went out impulsively and, for want of 
 anything better, caught at the second button of his 
 light flannel coat, which she twisted about nervously, 
 looking as though she wanted to say something and 
 couldn't. 
 
 "You you believe in me, don't you?" 
 
 It came slantingly up at him from under her droop 
 ing lashes; a look in which there was a great deal of 
 heaven and just a trace of elsewhere. 
 
 McClure's hands moved restlessly, and for a second 
 or two it was as if he would take the same liberty that 
 Clavering had. 
 
 And then he straightened, silently exhaling the deep 
 breath he had drawn. 
 
 "All right. Send the list over any time. Good 
 night." 
 
 In a second Miss Severoid was alone and in another 
 her eyes were misty. 
 
 But she shook her head in protest against the threat 
 ening tears and, going out upon the veranda, gazed 
 with trancelike steadiness at the shrouded river. 
 
 A low-draft cargo boat lay off the Produce Associa 
 tion beach, and her lights were the only ones twinkling 
 upon the water. Everything was darkness and silence 
 and the promise of terrible things to come. 
 
 Miss Severoid was not thinking of them, however. 
 Her mind was triumphantly whispering in the teeth of 
 the last thing Clavering had said to her. 
 
 "He'll come! Yes, he will! And I didn't have to 
 kiss him once !"
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE FALL OF MC CLURE 
 
 McCLURE felt somewhat numb and dazed. He was 
 not quite sure, as he pounded his way back to Mars- 
 den's, whether he had been more of a cad than a sim 
 pleton or just a plain fool. Probably a mixture of 
 all three. He was equally uncertain regarding the 
 particular process by which Miss Severoid had made 
 his sullen determination not to be "fooled again" alter 
 to a sneaking sensation that he owed her an apology. 
 
 His mind blinked, searched, and blinked again. 
 
 Miss Severoid had been simply herself sweet and 
 gentle and forgiving and beautiful. Nothing more 
 than that; yet, without effort, she had robbed him of 
 the things he might have said had made him believe 
 that he had reason to be ashamed of himself. 
 
 She had suggested that he should atone for his hasty 
 judgment by bringing the provisions down to Akerri 
 Creek on Tuesday at eleven-thirty, so that he might 
 have an opportunity to wish her a safe journey to 
 Benin City in the company of Chief Cralla! 
 
 Quite as if she were going to Brighton with her 
 mother ! 
 
 McClure's jaws dropped foolishly. 
 
 Great Heavens f What had he been thinking about ? 
 It was impossible, insane, suicidal ! 
 
 There was everything against it reason, experi 
 ence, propriety and nothing for it. 
 
 Arguments and threats of danger he might have 
 used to prove to Miss Severoid just how utterly im- 
 
 132
 
 THE FALL OF McCLURE 133 
 
 possible, insane and suicidal it was came to his tongue 
 in a flood. He would put a stop to the crazy under 
 taking; he would not let her go; he would 
 
 And then he smiled in a sickly, annoyed way, know 
 ing very well that his arguments and threats would be 
 entirely useless. 
 
 In the succeeding few days McClure felt, in truth, a 
 little ashamed of himself; partly because he had so 
 hastily judged a lady and had so palpably made his 
 judgment known, but greatly because in satisfying his 
 own resentment against Clavering he had allowed that 
 shifty gentleman to slip through his fingers. 
 
 Because of that he felt still more responsible for 
 Miss Severoid's safety. 
 
 He considered that, having allowed Clavering to 
 escape, he was in a great measure responsible for the 
 outlaw's future depredations. Although he could not 
 protect every one from the spoiler, he could at least 
 do what he could for those he knew to be in danger. 
 
 It was a magnificent argument. 
 
 But "those in danger" went no further than Miss 
 Severoid ! 
 
 In short, he had no intention of allowing her to 
 travel alone in the company of the chief of Akerri. 
 That was neither nice nor safe. 
 
 If he could not dissuade her from her purpose, there 
 \vas but one thing left for him to do. And he spent a 
 great deal of his time making plausible excuses to 
 himself for even thinking about it. 
 
 But apart from all that he felt that there was 
 treachery afoot. He did not trust Clavering's advice. 
 It interested him to learn how Cralla had become a 
 toady of the outlaw's so quickly after the Saganna 
 p ft air, at which Cralla had been most rabidly anti- 
 C layering.
 
 134 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 That in itself was suspicious, and McClure believed 
 that by thrusting his company upon the expedition 
 without a word of warning he could quickly get a hint 
 of "something in the wind" by the manner in which 
 Cralla accepted him. 
 
 Which proves how very wide of the mark McClure 
 really was. 
 
 But so far as the reason for the expedition was con 
 cerned, the vague guess he made was not so poor. He 
 believed that, somehow or other, the reason spelled 
 Debenham. 
 
 He had nothing very definite upon which to build 
 such a conclusion. Nothing more than that Miss Sev- 
 eroid and Ralph Debenham had been "something to 
 each other" ; that Miss Severoid was not in any sense 
 a Mission Lady; and that she had allowed, perhaps 
 encouraged, Clavering to call upon her so that she 
 might have the benefit of his advice and assistance in 
 a matter in which he, because of his knowledge of 
 things "under the surface," was better able to give 
 advice than any one. 
 
 "Without Clarcring I could do nothing; with him, 
 I believe I can do anything." 
 
 McClure recalled that expression of Miss Severoid's 
 attitude toward the outlaw with something of a jar; 
 but he had to admit the truth of it, if she were really 
 searching for the vanished assistant. Since Cralla 
 had been Debenham's closest friend among the natives 
 the chief's part in the proposed expedition dovetailed 
 very neatly into McClure's hypothesis. This was just 
 insufficient enough to make him wish to augment or 
 disprove it. 
 
 When Miss Severoid's provision-list reached him he 
 smiled at its frugality, which he attributed to a naive 
 ignorance. He made up a list of his own, adding
 
 THE FALL OF McCLURE 135 
 
 numerous necessities in the way of cooking utensils, 
 cutlery, earthenware, liquors for native and human 
 consumption; camp equipment, and native rations. 
 The last Miss Severoid had omitted altogether. 
 
 A son of the Delta may find canned pate de foies 
 gras palatable, but he prefers a portion of salt beef 
 large enough to necessitate the use of both hands, and 
 which he can tear apart with teeth that have been filed 
 for that purpose. 
 
 On Tuesday morning McClure sent for his stock 
 clerk his second in command since the shop clerk had 
 died and gave him the list. 
 
 "I am going for a little jaunt, Mr. Graham," he ex 
 plained ambiguously. "And I am not sure when I 
 may be back. Have that stuff on board the Rover 
 after dinner to-night no later than ten o'clock and 
 don't make a fuss about it. Understand ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Good. And er you needn't bother seeing me 
 off." 
 
 "Very good, sir. And when you are gone " 
 
 "Oh, yes. I cabled the home office last Friday to 
 send me some one to take Gilmore's place, and I imag 
 ine they'll transfer a man from Bonny, Bakana, or 
 Calabar. He should be here in a week at latest. Then 
 you'll stay in the shop and give the new man the 
 stock. Just let things run easily till I get back, and 
 don't try your 'prentice hand on prices. Let them 
 stand." 
 
 "Very good, sir. I hope you'll have a pleasant trip." 
 
 "Thanks. I think I shall. And if you take care of 
 my job as well as you have been in the habit of taking 
 care of yourself, the firm won't have anything to 
 worry about." 
 
 Graham tried to mumble his appreciation of the 
 compliment and sidled toward the door.
 
 136 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "And by the way," McClure halted him. "You 
 might keep an eye on Tait, and don't let him sit alone 
 in his room at night. Take him out make him drunk 
 if you like, but don't let him think. He's got lots of 
 sand, but too much imagination. I think you'd better 
 get him to change rooms with Parsons or the new 
 man. Theirs don't face the cemetery." 
 
 Graham did not smile. "All right, sir." 
 
 McClure grunted. 
 
 "I hope it is," he muttered and stared sullenly out 
 through the open windows down river. 
 
 Graham waited. He knew there was something 
 else. 
 
 Then McClure's hand went out suddenly and sav 
 agely for a cable blank. 
 
 "Get a canoe ready to go down to Burutu with this 
 at once," he snapped. Dabbing his pen into the ink, 
 he wrote in the firm's private code as Graham hurried 
 to obey : 
 
 MARSDEN & Co., Liverpool. 
 
 Recall Tait per cable immediately. Pay him year's salary and 
 charge the difference to me. Too young. I want men. This 
 isn't a kindergarten. MCCLURE, Segwanga. 
 
 A little later, watching the cable messenger pad 
 dling swiftly toward the Burutu curve, McClure bit 
 upon his cigar a little harder and mumbled : 
 
 "It won't hurt so badly coming from headquarters 
 and he'll thank me for it ten years hence." 
 
 Ilora carried Miss Severoid's small uniform case 
 down to the waiting canoe at eleven-fifteen on Tuesday 
 night. 
 
 She made no attempt at concealment. The mission 
 ary and his wife had retired punctually at ten, as 
 was their habit, and the water-front watch-boy was
 
 THE FALL OF McCLURE 137 
 
 huddled under the stairway with an empty bottle of 
 very bad Hamburg gin at his side. 
 
 Miss Severoid did not know that. 
 
 During these preliminaries to the expedition she was 
 in Ilora's hands. Somewhat pale and biting nervously 
 at her lips, she followed the Jackrie girl on tiptoe to 
 the wharf-steps. 
 
 Halting there a moment, she looked up at Mrs. 
 Steel's windows, then went slowly down the steps, and 
 took her place in the canoe. 
 
 A convulsive little shudder shook her from head to 
 foot as the shell-like craft slid away from the steps, 
 and she clenched her hands tightly and shut her teeth 
 firmly upon a threatening sob. 
 
 For a while she sat quite still, looking straight 
 ahead, numb and cold in the grip of a terror she could 
 not shake off. Then, with a supreme effort, she 
 looked behind. 
 
 And faintly she saw a large "something" come 
 leisurely out of the gloom and follow them. 
 
 The color came back into her cheeks and lips; the 
 numbness and the terror drifted as if by magic. She 
 hugged herself in a sudden ecstasy, and a wonderful 
 smile curved her lips. 
 
 She knew that the larger "something" in the rear 
 was the Rover. 
 
 Under the guidance of a colored engineer who 
 answered to the prosaic name of John, the Rover crept 
 slowly after Ilora's canoe to the mouth of Akerri 
 Creek, where another canoe of much larger dimensions 
 waited. 
 
 That was Cralla's forty-paddle power craft, boast 
 ing a mat-strewn "deck" and an awning of woven 
 native grasses. 
 
 Twenty boys sat forward of the deck and twenty 
 aft. They were all garbed alike, in white singlets
 
 138 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 and bright-red overcloths, and they had been trained 
 to appreciate the gift of silence to such an extent that 
 there was not even a whisper heard among them. 
 
 In a few moments McClure had inserted the Rarer 
 and himself into the proceedings, without, however, 
 making known his full intentions. 
 
 Cralla seemed rather glad to see him a fact which 
 did not surprise McClure in the least. It only made 
 him all the more suspicious. 
 
 From her uncertain seat in Ilora's canoe Miss Sever- 
 oid greeted him with a smile that was lost in the 
 darkness. But he heard her whisper : 
 
 "It was very good of you to come. I'd like to go 
 up there to see that everything is all right with the 
 provisions and to pay my bill." 
 
 So McClure assisted her to the deck of the launch, 
 while Cralla, peering out from under the awning of 
 his canoe, watched their every movement. 
 
 Ilora waited. 
 
 "Where are they?" Miss Severoid asked a little 
 breathlessly, referring to the provisions. 
 
 And McClure caught her arm and stayed her a yard 
 or two from the little cabin doorway. 
 
 "Never mind. I'll look after them. And I think 
 you'd better get your maid up here and take posses 
 sion of the cabin. Plymouth !" 
 
 "Yessah." 
 
 A massive black object appeared out of a coil of 
 rope and shuffled into more distinct shape and view, 
 resolving into a squat, broad-visaged Kroo-boy who 
 had been called Plymouth because he had, by accident 
 upon one occasion, been carried that far away from 
 home on an English cargo-boat. 
 
 His face was mostly mouth and nose, and he did 
 not seem to have any eyes at all. But alone and un 
 aided he could heave a one-hundred-and-ninety-gallon
 
 THE FALL OF McCLURE 139 
 
 puncheon of palm-oil off its bilge, consequently prov 
 ing himself to be of more service in the world than 
 some of his more civilized white brothers who use the 
 oil in the form of scented soaps. 
 
 "Small box live for canoe," McClure said tersely, 
 referring to Miss Severoid's uniform case. "Bring it 
 up and put it in the cabin." 
 
 "Yessah." 
 
 "But " Miss Severoid protested, and really did not 
 try to go any further. 
 
 "I think you'll find the cabin comfortable," McClure 
 interrupted deliberately, and, taking her gently by the 
 shoulders, turned her face toward it. "And please 
 don't force me to make a bigger fool of myself than 
 I am now. I am going to talk to Cralla about his 
 boys. We won't need them all." 
 
 Miss Severoid glanced quickly up into his face, and 
 her expression was one of blank amazement. 
 
 "You you're coming with us?" 
 
 McClure looked as though he were ashamed of 
 himself. 
 
 "I am afraid I am," he said incisively, and abruptly 
 turned from her to the rail to hold whispered consulta 
 tion with Cralla, feeling that he had "taken command 
 of the situation." 
 
 Miss Severoid, descending into the Rover's cabin, 
 smiled sweetly and knowingly into the eery darkness 
 unafraid. 
 
 The following morning Segwanga awoke to learn 
 that Miss Severoid had departed in the night, taking 
 her small cabin trunk with her, and that McClure of 
 Marsden's had also gone nowhere in particular. 
 
 Which of course made Segwanga gasp. 
 
 But after a while it began to think, and speedily 
 came to the very natural conclusion that Miss Severoid
 
 140 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 and McClure had gone off together. In short, that 
 they had eloped! 
 
 [Though Heaven alone knew where they could elope 
 to. 
 
 In any case, some of the men smiled, others were 
 curious and cynical and predicted dire disaster, while 
 the rest simply "didn't know what to think." 
 
 But there was no search-party organized. Even 
 the district commissioner took the matter rather 
 phlegmatically, though he did send a runner to Saloko 
 to let his friend Talbot, the D. C. there, know about it. 
 But it was generally conceded that McClure, knowing 
 the country as he did, knew too much to be found if he 
 did not wish to be. 
 
 Clavering had thought of that when he had sug 
 gested McClure as a companion for Miss Severoid. 
 His own name was never even hinted at in connection 
 with the matter. 
 
 The burden of responsibility for Miss Severoid's 
 safety rested entirely on McClure's broad shoulders. 
 
 Killing several birds with one stone was a subtle 
 science with Clavering.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 ON THE MAYONA ROAD 
 
 TRAILING Chief Cralla's canoe behind, the Rover 
 reached Saloko the following evening, purposely after 
 dark and without incident. In fact, that first leg of 
 the trip was almost tiresome, even to Miss Severoid. 
 
 There was nothing to see. The solid, drab-green 
 bank of the bush followed them in two almost inces 
 sant, interminable lines, broken only at intervals where 
 a few dun-colored mud huts obtruded themselves, or 
 where the ravaging fury of wind and rain had torn up 
 trees by the roots and lashed the unchanging green into 
 white-scarred, yawning hollows. 
 
 One creek was just like another. Though they 
 passed innumerable canoes of all sizes, none afforded 
 more than a lazy glance of interest. The few cargo- 
 boats they encountered were no more exciting than 
 cargo-boats usually are, except that John, the engineer, 
 had instructions to avoid them as much as possible. 
 
 And when Miss Severoid had counted the third 
 floating body of a native, riding leisurely upon his 
 watery bier toward the sea, even that gruesome spec 
 tacle had lost its newness, though it made her feel 
 chilly and unpleasantly uncertain about the stability of 
 her knees. 
 
 Those bodies had not been committed to the waters 
 with any great ceremony ; most of them by the simple 
 medium of a violent push, accompanied by an unex 
 pected blow from behind with the butt of a muzzle- 
 
 141
 
 142 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 loader or the broad blade of a machete; and as the 
 tentacles of law and order were still a trifle short and 
 inefficient, they did not reach far enough to pry into 
 matters so purely personal to the family. So the 
 bodies just drifted and nobody bothered very much 
 about them. 
 
 Cralla had accepted McClure almost without com 
 ment, and had quite willingly agreed that, in view of 
 the assistance the launch would give, at least ten of his 
 boys would be unnecessary. 
 
 Consequently, that number had been left behind at 
 Akerri. The others were to act as carriers. 
 
 The chief had not supplied McClure with any defi 
 nite information regarding the proposed entrance into 
 Benin City, nor did he say why they were going there. 
 So far as McClure was concerned, the whole affair 
 was wrapped in a veil of mystery, the solution to 
 which he could only conjecture. He was not even in 
 Miss Severoid's confidence, and, stubbornly deter 
 mined not to ask for information, he avoided her as 
 much as the limited dimensions of the launch would 
 permit. 
 
 Miss Severoid appreciated his situation perfectly; 
 knew that he was there simply to guide and to guard, 
 without having more than a vague conception of why 
 she was doing so desperate a thing; and as once before 
 the first time she had met him, in fact she had 
 wished to tell him the whole story from beginning to 
 end, she was tempted to do so again ere they reached 
 Saloko. But she didn't. 
 
 McClure's devotion was so large and so splendidly 
 blind that she thought she would enjoy it while she 
 could. 
 
 Afterward ? 
 
 Miss Severoid was afraid there wouldn't be any 
 afterward.
 
 ON THE MAYONA ROAD 143 
 
 For the greater part of the way to Saloko Cralla 
 lolled upon the matted "deck" of his canoe with a 
 black tarpaulin-covered carrier's pack for a pillow, and 
 was apparently oblivious of all that went on about him, 
 rousing himself into a sitting posture only when it was 
 time to eat. According to his attitude, the venture 
 had all the aspects of a picnic. 
 
 Then in a dark, bush-bound creek a short distance 
 south of Saloko the launch came to a stop opposite a 
 deserted clearing deserted presumably because a juju 
 had hurled an anathema upon it and a landing was 
 effected without interruption or intrusion. 
 
 A bush path led from the rear of the clearing to the 
 Benin City road, and within an hour the carriers had 
 taken up their apportioned loads and had started off, 
 led by a lamp-boy. 
 
 There were few words spoken. 
 
 Cralla muttered orders in Jackrie, interspersed with 
 an appropriate oath or two, and the threat of choice 
 punishments for those among the carriers who stum 
 bled or were otherwise tardy. He did not approach 
 within a dozen yards of Miss Severoid during the pro 
 ceedings; in fact, he so palpably held aloof that his 
 attitude toward her was obvious even to McClure, who 
 stood by her side quietly watching the carriers load up 
 in the very uncertain light of a few hurricane lamps. 
 
 Cralla followed them from the clearing with a 
 grunted "All ri' !" that fell somewhere between Miss 
 Severoid and McClure, and with an answering grunt 
 and a final glance about him the trader ordered Ilora 
 to follow Cralla. 
 
 Then, with Plymouth showing the way with a lamp, 
 he and Miss Severoid brought up the rear, while the 
 launch, towing Cralla's canoe, departed into hiding 
 near the village of Okanna, where it was to remain 
 until called for.
 
 144 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Miss Severoid clung tightly to McClure's arm, but 
 she made no sound ; and the trader, measuring his step 
 to hers, gave no hint of his sensations in speech. But 
 he felt as though he ought to pick her up and carry her. 
 
 Bush travel is bad enough in daylight, particularly 
 when the rainy season is near. But at night it is 
 infinitely worse; fraught with many unpleasantnesses, 
 including snakes, centipedes; loose, hanging branches 
 that threaten the eyes; treacherous hollows underfoot 
 that play havoc with one's ankles, and all manner of 
 things that crawl, fly, and sting and leave ugly sores. 
 
 On beaten paths, however, the toil is not so great 
 Miss Severoid was to learn that the path from the 
 deserted clearing of Buloki to the Benin City "road" 
 a distance of about two miles was a boulevard com 
 pared with others she was forced to travel. The car 
 riers tramping on ahead did double duty, inasmuch as 
 they cleared the path of trailing creepers and crawling 
 undergrowths, and whispered hoarse warning when a 
 branch hung too low. 
 
 Then they were out upon the Benin City road a 
 path a few feet broader than usual and the pace 
 increased. 
 
 Their objective was Taomi, which they hoped to 
 reach before midnight, so that they might start 
 again early in the morning and accomplish several 
 hours' marching ere the noonday sun brought them 
 to a halt. 
 
 And with nothing more startling than the yelping 
 of hungry bush-dogs, the squeaking chatter and fright 
 ened scampering of little colonies of wakeful monkeys, 
 the silent party tramped through the sweltering night 
 and trooped into Taomi shortly after eleven o'clock. 
 
 Apparently Cralla or Clavering perhaps had 
 made all the necessary arrangements, even to provid-
 
 ON THE MAYONA ROAD 145 
 
 ing Miss Severoid with a "private hut," in which 
 among other things she was startled to find a perfectly 
 new and clean camp-bed, draped with mosquito-cur 
 tains. 
 
 McClure, who stood in the doorway, studied the evi 
 dences of Clavering's thoughtfulness in silence, while 
 Miss Severoid, rather pale and very tired, clumped 
 with an honest sigh of relief into an unbelievable Ma 
 deira chair and stretched her aching limbs out upon the 
 leg-rest. 
 
 Cralla was somewhere in the blackness outside, 
 ordering his boys about; and Ilora, placid of counte 
 nance, hung back in the shadows near the bed, await 
 ing the pleasure of her mistress. 
 
 Then Plymouth appeared behind McClure, carrying 
 something very bulky on his back. 
 
 "Be bed foh Mishun Lady, sah!" he grunted, since 
 his master did not move out of the doorway to let him 
 pass. 
 
 McClure did not even turn his head. 
 
 "All right. Take it back and pack it up again. It 
 isn't needed." 
 
 "A* ri', sah!" Plymouth grumbled and ambled 
 heavily away. 
 
 "Oh, I didn't know you had " Miss Severoid be 
 gan in a hopeless, apologetic tone, and tried to see 
 McClure's face more distinctly. 
 
 "I think you should be fairly comfortable," came 
 the measured interruption. "Better get all the sleep 
 you can. Good night !" 
 
 "Good good night !" 
 
 She heard him striding away, and heard him stop 
 to speak to Cralla in a mixture of Jackrie and pidgin 
 English that was most exasperating. There was 
 something about "sunrise" and "Mayona," and the
 
 I 4 6 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 chief's fawning, "Yessah, Mistah MaClu' !" to every 
 thing the trader said had an ominous hint of sneering 
 laughter in it. 
 
 Then, as she lay back in her chair and allowed Ilora 
 to unlace her walking-boots, her eyelids drooped and 
 the sounds without became a distant hum. She was 
 too tired to be afraid. 
 
 In a few minutes, according to her calculations, it 
 was morning. She sat up in bed and, rubbing her eyes 
 vigorously, found Ilora, sullen and uncommunicative, 
 standing over her with a cup of very hot cocoa in her 
 hand. 
 
 Closer examination discovered a neatly folded chit 
 in the saucer, and Miss Severoid almost upset the cup 
 in her anxiety to know what the note contained. 
 
 Hope you slept well. I think you had better use the hammock 
 most of the way to Mayona. It is rather rough underfoot, and 
 you are not accustomed to this sort of thing. 
 
 I shall probably have an opportunity to talk to you in Mayona, 
 and you can tell me what you think of Cralla's behavior. Till 
 then an revoir. G. C. 
 
 Miss Severoid was not in the least sleepy after that, 
 particularly when she saw the hammock that had been 
 left at her door as by a fairy princess in the night. 
 Her spirits took a sudden bound, and she even hummed 
 to herself as she dressed, seeming to forget the stuffi 
 ness of the hut and the noisome odors that threatened 
 to make breakfast a difficulty. 
 
 But, as if to prove how exhilarating an effect Claver- 
 ing*s note had had, she ate with relish the early break 
 fast Ilora brought in a little later. 
 
 The Jackrie girl's face wore a mask. She had 
 scarcely slept at all, but had lain all night upon a mat 
 near the door, watching the mosquito-curtained camp- 
 bed with venom-filled eyes. 
 
 There was nothing very definite about her hatred.
 
 ON THE MAYONA ROAD 147 
 
 Jealousy, of course, had some part in it; but the soft 
 whiteness of Miss Severoid's skin was so wonderfully 
 soft and white and unblemished that Ilora had an 
 unholy desire to mutilate it. But she knew that to 
 rise and chop at Miss Severoid's head with a machete 
 would not gain her anything more than a momentary 
 satisfaction, because she, too, would surely die. 
 
 Cralla would slit her throat like a bush-dog's, and 
 would trail her to the shores of Lake Tchad to do it; 
 and, apart from not being anxious to die at all, Ilora 
 had notions about death that soared a little higher than 
 a bush-dog's. 
 
 When McClure came in to advise that everything 
 was in readiness Ilora backed into a corner, showing 
 the whites of her eyes. 
 
 She was afraid of McClure at any time, but particu 
 larly in the daylight. When he looked at her she 
 quaked ; when he ignored her and gave all his attention 
 to Miss Severoid she hated the latter a little more and 
 did not so much regret having struck McClure with a 
 hurricane lamp. She hoped he would quickly learn 
 of Miss Severoid's "perfidy," and would promptly 
 wreak an appropriate vengeance upon her. 
 
 Ilora wanted to be there when he did it. 
 
 "Some one seems to have been very good to you," 
 McClure remarked casually to Miss Severoid as he 
 looked the hammock over. "I suppose these are your 
 bearers ?" 
 
 Four boys in the Cralla regalia of white singlets and 
 red overcloths hung about the door, waiting for orders. 
 McClure knew they were not Akerri boys, but that 
 they had been hired from the chief of Taomi for the 
 occasion. 
 
 Miss Severoid smilingly joined the trader in the 
 doorway. 
 
 "Oh, isn't that nice?" she exclaimed sweetly, and as
 
 I 4 8 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 though she had not seen the hammock before. "Are 
 they going to carry me? I hope I don't fall out." 
 
 "There isn't much fear of that," McClure returned, 
 and his glance traveled to where all of Taomi was 
 gathered in chattering discord about Cralla and the 
 carriers, who were making ready to take up their 
 packs. "And I think you had better get into it and 
 drop the curtains so that the common eye of Taomi 
 may not see who is so great as to be permitted to use 
 Harmattan Clavering' s hammock." 
 
 Miss Severoid shot him a sidelong glance and found 
 him passive. 
 
 "It was very thoughtful of him, don't you think 
 so?" she asked rather timidly after a pause. 
 
 "Very," McClure answered tersely, and said noth 
 ing about the hammock he had included in his own 
 equipment. 
 
 That was the second time in a very few hours that 
 Clavering had forestalled him, thereby depriving him 
 of the pleasure of showing Miss Severoid how 
 thoughtful he, McClure, had been. 
 
 A few minutes later, with Cralla driving his car 
 riers on ahead, McClure walked beside the curtained 
 hammock. Plymouth and Ilora brought up the rear, 
 while Taomi town more than half naked, but un 
 ashamed jabbered and mumbled a sullen good-by. 
 
 Then the suffocating oppressiveness and the insalu 
 brious odors of the village were left behind. The low- 
 hanging morning mist lifted and vanished as the sun 
 climbed steadily over the bush-rimmed horizon. 
 
 But, as Clavering had said in his note, the road to 
 Mayona was rather rough underfoot. 
 
 It was worse than that; a mere ribbon of a path 
 that wound its uneven way through the gloomy and 
 stifling heart of the bush, and seemed to lead to no-
 
 PN THE MAYONA ROAD 149 
 
 where. Its curves and twists were baffling, and, criss 
 crossed by other similar paths, the result was a 
 confusing network of byways, any of which might 
 have been the Mayona road. 
 
 Yet Cralla, looking neither to right nor left, and 
 betraying none of his private opinions upon the busi 
 ness, went steadily on, herding his carriers before him 
 like cattle. Not once did he turn his head to look 
 back. He had not addressed a single remark to the 
 "beautiful white lady" since the trip began. 
 
 As for Miss Severoid, she was very grateful for the 
 hammock, even though the jolting and swaying of it 
 resembled the experience she had had in the turbulent 
 Bay of Biscay, when the waves were washing the win 
 dows of the saloon companion. 
 
 But there was no fear in her face as they plunged 
 mile after mile into the mysterious Beni country, and 
 McClure, pounding along at her side, mopping the 
 perspiration from his face and forehead, studied her 
 surreptitiously and wondered what magnificent hope 
 kept her face so calm and her eyes so marvelously 
 tender. 
 
 He spoke but seldom. It was too hot to talk. 
 Every little while he glanced upward through the 
 leafy covering overhead in search of rain. 
 
 Not that he wanted any. He didn't. 
 
 Ilora and Plymouth came on behind at a comfort 
 able, tireless jog; the girl placidly indifferent, the 
 Kroo-boy watching her covetously out of the slits that 
 served him for eyes. 
 
 They were a queer company, bent upon a queerer 
 mission. 
 
 Traveling natives they met stopped, stared, and then 
 passed on, muttering dire prophecies. The inhabitants 
 of villages that groveled in heathenish filth leaped, as
 
 1 5 o THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 it seemed, out of the reeking swamps, and strangely 
 marked faces obtruded themselves to peer at the silent 
 procession as at the supernatural. 
 
 But there was no sign of hostility; merely the wide- 
 eyed wonder and curiosity that are the due of a 
 phenomenon. 
 
 Then, about ten o'clock, when the heat was making 
 itself felt in real earnest, Miss Severoid saw a snake 
 a silver-and-black reptile of impressive length and 
 girth wriggling away into the underbrush. She 
 shivered a little; but after that she looked for other 
 things that crept along the ground instead of up into 
 the trees in search of monkeys. 
 
 But she did not see any more snakes not then. In 
 a few minutes it seemed as if the sound of Cralla's 
 voice as he hurried the carriers along was the only 
 sound in the world. Almost every sign of animal life 
 had vanished, and the sun went out behind a gathering 
 of gray-black clouds. 
 
 She looked up at McClure to see what he thought 
 about it. Before she could speak a piercing scream 
 broke in upon the choking stillness. 
 
 Glancing swiftly ahead, she saw that one of the car 
 riers had fallen, and that Cralla, hippo-hide thong in 
 hand, was standing over the unfortunate wretch, cut 
 ting him viciously about the head and shoulders, draw 
 ing blood with every lash. 
 
 It was not a pleasant sight. Miss Severoid shut her 
 eyes upon it till the hammock suddenly stopped. Then 
 somehow or other she was out of it, racing toward 
 Cralla. 
 
 McClure reached him first. 
 
 There was a confusion of sounds of Jackrie oaths 
 and short, sharp words in English, followed by the 
 thud of heavy fists.
 
 ON THE MA YON A ROAD 151 
 
 Miss Severoid had a vision of McClure standing 
 over the fallen carrier like a sculptured champion of 
 the oppressed ; and Cralla, helmetless and clutching his 
 jaw, was staggering into a background of open- 
 mouthed carriers. 
 
 Followed a moment or two of deep, deep silence. 
 
 Ilora and Plymouth and the hammock- boys were 
 somewhere behind her, but as McClure bent over the 
 moaning victim of Cralla's rage Miss Severoid saw no 
 one but Cralla. 
 
 She saw him steady himself, and his face seemed to 
 change in a moment. 
 
 The sycophantic chief of Akerri had vanished. In 
 his place there was a snakelike man whose jet-black 
 eyes burned with a hell-born hate, and whose lips, 
 curving over his glistening teeth, made a cruel, wisp- 
 like line. The skin over his cheek-bones drew tighter 
 and tighter till 
 
 Miss Severoid screamed at the horror of it ; a short, 
 sharp sound that made McClure straighten suddenly. 
 
 And in that second Cralla leaped forward. 
 
 The ugly, black hippo thong whirled savagely and 
 cut McClure across the eyes ! 
 
 A guttural of pain escaped him, and he reeled back 
 ward into Plymouth's arms, throwing his hands up to 
 his face. Ilora, who dared not play any part, hung, 
 moaning and quivering, in the rear. 
 
 Miss Severoid did not move. She was staring at 
 Cralla with a queer look of unbelief in her face. 
 
 Her head was swimming round ; but she had a hazy 
 understanding of the fact that Cralla was looking 
 straight at her, and that a moment or two later he was 
 cringing away from her step by step till he finally 
 turned with amazing swiftness and ran into the sud 
 den blackness that descended upon them.
 
 152 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 A dazzling flash of forked lightning rent the world 
 in two. It was followed by a roar as of a hundred 
 cannon. 
 
 Miss Severoid wheeled dizzily toward McClure as 
 the first drop of rain splashed hotly upon her hand.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THROUGH THE RAIN 
 
 FLASH followed flash, cleaving the gray darkness as 
 with darting blades of blue- white fire. The rumbling, 
 rolling rattle of the thunder tore the heavens asunder 
 and precipitated the deluge. 
 
 The carriers and the hammock bearers had bolted 
 when Cralla did. Only Ilora remained. 
 
 Even the carrier McClure had championed had 
 sneaked to his feet and slipped away, leaving his pack 
 behind. The others had taken theirs with them, and, 
 though Ilora knew where they had gone, she remained 
 silently in the background of events, apparently un 
 mindful of the rain, watching Miss Severoid and 
 Plymouth trying to lead McClure into some sort of 
 shelter. 
 
 McClure was struggling to see. 
 
 There was a band of fire across his eyes; a red, 
 blood-flecked wale that stood out in bold relief against 
 the chalk-whiteness of his passion; and he was like a 
 disturbed mountain in his pain. Plymouth's gorilla- 
 like arms could not hold him. 
 
 But the touch of Miss Severoid's fingers halted with 
 magical effect his impotent desire to rush at the spot 
 where he imagined Cralla to be, and produced a con 
 dition of passiveness that was pitiful. Nothing was 
 distinct, and he had a somewhat terrifying sensation 
 that if he lifted his eyelids his eyes would fall out in 
 halves ! 
 
 153
 
 154 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 And then, answering Miss Severoid's touch and 
 guided by Plymouth's grip upon his right arm, he 
 stumbled blindly through the darkness and the lashing 
 rain in the general direction in which the carriers had 
 gone. 
 
 Which was vague enough. 
 
 Everything was blurred, and the rain, beating in 
 their faces, forced them to bend their heads and to 
 turn side wise so that their shoulders bore the brunt of 
 the battle; a battle to which the jagged flashes of 
 lightning and the boom and roar and rattle of nature's 
 heavy artillery lent a fearsome splash of realism. 
 
 No one bothered about the pack the carrier had left 
 behind, or about anything except to hope for shelter 
 somewhere anywhere. In a few moments the little 
 company looked as though it had taken a plunge in the 
 Niger without troubling to undress. 
 
 After that it was not getting wet that mattered so 
 much. 
 
 There was the danger of falling trees ; of choosing 
 the wrong path among a maze of paths, and of groping 
 their way into one of the many villages where, since 
 Cralla had gone, many unpleasantnesses awaited the 
 stranger who did not come properly recommended. 
 
 Miss Severoid had a vague recollection that Cralla 
 had turned off the main path to the right, and that the 
 carriers had gone the same way. But where they had 
 gone after that was shrouded in a dull, green mantle 
 of mystery. 
 
 Plymouth knew nothing of the country; and Mc- 
 Clure, still blindly lurching through a darkness that 
 had nothing to do with the storm, did not even know 
 that Cralla and the carriers had gone. 
 
 Ilora followed at a short distance, particularly 
 watching McClure's stumbling gait, till she saw him 
 place his arm about Miss Severoid's shoulders and
 
 THROUGH THE RAIN 155 
 
 draw her into such shelter as his giant body afforded. 
 
 McClure did that instinctively without thought. 
 He could not see; could only feel the beating of the 
 rain and hear the tearing crash of the thunder. The 
 small hands clinging to his arm and helping to guide, 
 seemed to plead for protection. 
 
 Ilora's expression of savage pity faded instantly. 
 A cruel grin took its place, and when, obscured by the 
 darkness and the rain, the branching path the carriers 
 had taken escaped even Plymouth's sharp little eyes, 
 the Jackrie girl did not correct the error. She allowed 
 them to go on, and, stopping to look back, her grin 
 broadened. 
 
 There was not a soul to see or to hear. Already, in 
 scarcely a minute, Miss Severoid, McClure, and 
 Plymouth, staggering wretchedly in the teeth of the 
 storm, were hazy, ghost-like figures, fading into the 
 gray wall of the rain. 
 
 The girl would have given her left arm for a ma 
 chete just then. She needed her right. But the best 
 she could do, after a few minutes' searching, was a 
 stout mango-stick with one end shaped like a bludgeon. 
 
 It might not kill, but it would surely mutilate ; and 
 mutilation is an instinctive passion in the savage. 
 Ilora thought Miss Severoid's face altogether too 
 smooth ; and there was something devilish in the man 
 ner in which the girl crept after her mistress, gripping 
 the mango-stick tightly in her firm and sure right 
 hand. 
 
 Her plan was simple. She knew that if she could 
 eliminate Plymouth, she would have little to fear from 
 McClure; and then, when she had all the amusement 
 she wanted at Miss Severoid's expense, she intended to 
 "find them" and lead them to the shelter the carriers 
 had sought. One good blow with the mango-stick 
 would crush Miss Severoid's helmet over her eyes, and
 
 156 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 make her quite as sightless as McClure. Plymouth 
 was the only serious difficulty. 
 
 The thunder and lightning and the rain did not 
 bother her at all ; in fact, they helped, or would when 
 the time came, and though her dark-red overcloth hung 
 to her lithe figure almost as closely as her skin and 
 flopped awkwardly about her ankles, impeding the free 
 movement of her limbs, these things had no effect upon 
 her fiendish determination, unless it was to irritate her 
 and make her more determined. 
 
 Huddling into the shelter of McClure's arm and 
 gripping his soggy coat to preserve her balance, Miss 
 Severoid searched for the path the carriers had taken. 
 She was too miserable and too much occupied with 
 McClure's pitiful plight to be afraid upon her own 
 account. Such misgivings as she had were not due to 
 the lurid and thunderous wrath of Heaven, but to the 
 memory of what she had seen in Cralla's face. 
 
 His expression had been so horribly indicative of the 
 beast that lurked behind the mask of his urbanity, that 
 it did not augur well for the success of her expedition. 
 If he could lose control of himself once, he could do so 
 again ; possibly at a time when something more than a 
 rain storm threatened them. 
 
 But she kept her fears tightly locked up in her 
 breast, though she sometimes shuddered and clung 
 closely to McClure as she heard the terrifying, crash 
 ing fall of lightning-struck trees. 
 
 Every little while she looked up through the blur 
 into McClure's face, and each time pitied him a little 
 more, pleading with Providence for a chance to help 
 him in his helplessness. His head was down and his 
 eyes were closed, partly because the rain stung them 
 calding water, and partly because he could not 
 see anything when he opened them. 
 
 "Basanna!" he grunted savagely to Plymouth sev-
 
 THROUGH THE RAIN 157, 
 
 eral times. "Down on the right. Find it, you bush- 
 man! Find it!" 
 
 And then he would raise his head and try to find 
 it himself ; only to lower it again as the knif elike pains 
 shot through his eyes and seemed to stab into his brain. 
 
 His plight was something like that of a huge Atlan 
 tic liner with her steering-gear out of commission. 
 He was as massive and as strong as ever, but wholly at 
 the mercy of the elements and of the smallest human 
 who might seek to make prey of him. 
 
 Plymouth lurched along, keeping a firm grip of his 
 master's arm, and muttering maledictions upon the 
 particular god of his gods that was responsible for bad 
 weather. 
 
 He had no opinions to offer. When McClure 
 grunted "Basanna!" Plymouth said "Yessah! One 
 time, sah!" in a mechanical fashion and, digging his 
 head and shoulders into the driving rain, blinked 
 through the mist in search of the elusive path. 
 
 And when he halted at the entrance to a path that 
 shot off at an angle of ninety degrees and which gave 
 promise of leading to something definite, Miss Sever- 
 oid did not know how far they had gone. So she did 
 not stop to argue the matter, but held on to McClure, 
 and put her fate into the gnarled black hands of the 
 Kroo boy. 
 
 None of them was aware of the presence of Ilora 
 in the rear. 
 
 Consequently they wheeled into the path that led to 
 Sekomi; that is, the path would ultimately have led 
 them to the native market town of Sekomi if they had 
 followed it properly. Plymouth tried to do so, and 
 Ilora came on behind, creeping very cautiously and 
 grinning into the teeth of the storm. 
 
 They went on, heads down, with Plymouth on the 
 right, playing the role of guide. But before they had
 
 158 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 gone very far, and hardly aware that he did it, the boy 
 turned his feet into the first path that wound tempt 
 ingly off the route to Sekomi to the right. 
 
 It is a very easy matter to travel in a circle in the 
 Delta bush, particularly when it rains; much easier to 
 do so than not, and Plymouth succumbed to the temp 
 tation to "turn to the right" as often as the chance 
 offered, until in a very short time he was hopelessly 
 tangled and was simply plunging on, hoping that Mc- 
 Clure would not find it out. 
 
 And then, at the junction of three paths, with Ba- 
 sanna huddling, invisible, behind an impenetrable wall 
 of bush not more than half a mile away, Ilora slipped 
 up behind Plymouth and struck once, twice, thrice 
 with such force that, had her bludgeon been a machete, 
 his unprotected head would probably have been cleft to 
 the neckband of his singlet. 
 
 As it was, he staggered, loosened his grip upon Mc- 
 Clure's arm and, dropping to his knees, fell flat upon 
 his face in the oozy mud and lay still. 
 
 McClure heard the vicious hissing sound behind 
 him; heard the thud of the blows and the Kroo boy's 
 grunt of pain and surprise; then felt him slip away 
 from his side. 
 
 He stopped, straightened, and tried desperately to 
 see ; and in that second, having disposed of Plymouth's 
 strength and sight, Ilora struck with the same vicious 
 savagery at Miss Severoid, who had not had time to 
 think of anything. 
 
 The blow crushed her helmet down over her eyes, 
 just as Ilora had supposed it would; made opalescent 
 pin-wheels whirl before her sight, and she thought a 
 tree had fallen. Sagging at the knees, clutching at 
 nothingness for support, she lurched forward a few 
 steps out of the protection of McClure's arms. 
 
 A triumphant "A-h~h-h-h!" came from behind.
 
 THROUGH THE RAIN 159 
 
 But as Ilora sprang forward, confident in the safety 
 of McClure's blindness, her career almost came to an 
 abrupt and wholly unexpected end. 
 
 Whirling about, maddened with rage and pain, 
 hardly conscious of the danger of it, McClure swung 
 his revolver from his hip in a semicircle, and fired with 
 desperate recklessness into space. 
 
 The first of the bullets singed Ilora's crinkly hair 
 just above the ear. She was not more than two feet 
 from the weapon when it happened. The second bul 
 let cut through the space where her head had been as 
 she dropped in a heap, stiff with surprise and fear. 
 
 She gaped up through the rain at McClure as though 
 she thought he was not playing quite fair, and her 
 amazement was so complete, it was comical. 
 
 There were two more shots, scarcely audible above 
 the tumult of the storm, and then the fifth missed fire. 
 McClure kept the sixth for himself in case he should 
 need it and, still trying to see, waited for the enemy to 
 rush. 
 
 Ilora crept to her knees. The whites of her eyes 
 gleamed brightly upon the revolver, and for a second 
 or two it was as if she would snatch it from McClure's 
 grasp. She had been under Clavering's guidance 
 long enough to know how to use one. 
 
 However, casting a hurried, furtive glance into the 
 face of the man who had fought Clavering and beaten 
 him who was as terrible without eyes as with 
 them and another panic-stricken glance in Plym 
 outh's direction, she saw the Kroo-boy stir and feebly 
 attempt to rise. Suddenly turning and running close 
 to the ground, she wheeled into a branching west 
 bound path and was gone ; thereby proving her wisdom 
 in choosing the junction of several paths for the rather 
 useless deed she had perpetrated. 
 
 And she did not come back to "find them" and lead
 
 160 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 them to the shelter of Basanna; not because she was 
 spiteful she could not afford to be that but because, 
 just then, she was as much afraid of McClure in his 
 blindness as she was of the punishment that Cralla 
 would mete out to her for deserting her mistress in the 
 storm. 
 
 She might be able to make excuses that would 
 mollify the chief in his rage; but one can't argue or 
 plead with the bullets that come from a blind man's 
 gun. 
 
 McClure did not hear her go. The patter of the 
 rain was heavier than that of Ilora's naked feet. 
 
 Plymouth raised himself slowly and laboriously 
 upon one knee, felt his head inquiringly, blinked 
 through the mud on his face, then dizzily staggered to 
 his feet and glanced about him. 
 
 He saw his master standing stiffly erect, revolver in 
 hand, blindly waiting for the attack that did not come, 
 and Miss Severoid was a hazy figure that swayed un 
 certainly, clutching at the soggy rim of her helmet, 
 trying to free her head from its imprisonment. 
 
 She was wondering, not without cause, if all the tree 
 had fallen yet. 
 
 Plymouth's expression of doubt was funny to look 
 upon, but the rain did not allow his senses to remain 
 numb very long, and in a few moments he was at Mc- 
 Clure's side, gripping his sleeve again and whispering 
 hoarsely : 
 
 "Be all ri*. No man live. All man go. Mishun 
 lady hurt li'l bit, I t'ink." 
 
 McClure's revolver went back into its holster very 
 slowly and his left hand covered his eyes. They were 
 stinging as though on fire, and he was quite sure he 
 would never see again. 
 
 "All right. Go help mission lady. I'm all right." 
 
 Plymouth obeyed gingerly. He was a little afraid
 
 THROUGH THE RAIN 161 
 
 of the beautiful white lady, who, however, did not look 
 very beautiful just then. 
 
 Her shoes, once white, were now a bluish-gray and 
 spotted generously with mud ; her skirt hung in shape 
 less, bedraggled disorder, and her white linen blouse 
 was a soggy, starchy pulp. The rain streamed down 
 her face and dripped from her nose and chin, and her 
 hair hung in straggling, wet wisps over her ears. The 
 helmet, badly dented by Ilora's blow and jammed 
 tightly over her ears, added the final touch of pathos 
 or humor to her unhappy state. 
 
 But Plymouth quickly relieved her of the helmet, 
 and as she threatened to fall as a result of the wrench 
 and the dizziness she had been fighting against for 
 several minutes, the Kroo-boy held her upright and led 
 her back into the welcome support and protection of 
 McClure's arm. 
 
 "What happened?" she whispered, clinging to his 
 coat as they moved hopelessly on again. 
 
 "I don't know," McClure returned, trying to speak 
 as indifferently as possible. "Somebody with a griev 
 ance to air, I fancy. Isn't the rain easing up a little ?" 
 
 "I think so. How far have we walked? It must 
 be miles." 
 
 "Possibly. I am sorry Plymouth is such a bush- 
 man. We must just go on till we strike something. 
 You are very tired, aren't you?" 
 
 "N-no. Not very. I haven't had a chance to think 
 about being tired. Do your eyes hurt very badly?" 
 
 "Not much. They'll be all right in a minute or two. 
 I think the thunder is becoming fainter, don't you?" 
 
 "Yes. I think so." 
 
 Which was true enough. But the downpour con 
 tinued steadily for an hour after that, and they wal 
 lowed on through the muddy clay, floundering along 
 paths that demanded single file, but which, because of
 
 162 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 McClure's helplessness, they had to squeeze through 
 together always searching for a sign of habitation, 
 till a sheltering roof seemed to be the rarest commodity 
 in the world. 
 
 Then the rain stopped and the darkness gave way 
 to the dazzling light of the midday sun. Bird and 
 beast, and all things that crawled or flew, came to life 
 again to the accompaniment of a riot of discordant 
 sounds. Miss Severoid quickly saw more snakes than 
 she cared to count. 
 
 Though the sun's heat helped to dry her clothing, 
 it also made her very thirsty ; and after being buffeted 
 about by the rain and made dizzy by Ilora's blow, she 
 was not in the fittest condition to combat the humidity 
 that followed. 
 
 Her throat and tongue were ready to crack and her 
 feet burned and blistered till she limped a little. 
 There was a dully persistent pain at the back of her 
 head, and she felt uncomfortably drowsy and chilly, 
 too, in spite of the intense heat. 
 
 She would have given much to have been able to 
 sit down. But there was nowhere to sit; nothing to 
 do but to go on and on, endlessly it seemed, over 
 lumpy, ribbonlike paths that made her wince at every 
 step and tore her clothing and her optimism to shreds 
 at the same time. 
 
 They met no one. At that time of the day one 
 o'clock the Beni does not walk abroad any more than 
 he can help. He sleeps. 
 
 Stumbling along with a wet handkerchief over his 
 eyes, McClure could feel Miss Severoid limp. The 
 little lurch she gave at every step became more and 
 more pronounced, till at last he stopped. 
 
 "Why, what's wrong?" she asked at once, standing 
 on one foot and leaning heavily against him; while 
 Plymouth, whose only anxiety seemed to be the lumps
 
 THROUGH THE RAIN 163 
 
 Ilora's mango stick had raised on his head, also halted 
 and looked inquiringly up into his master's face. 
 
 "You are tired," McClure declared very deliber 
 ately. "And you are limping worse and worse every 
 minute. I am going to carry you." 
 
 "Carry me !" Miss Severoid laughed oddly. 
 
 "Exactly." He stooped a little. "You are not 
 very heavy; but don't make yourself heavier by resist 
 ing. Put your arm round my neck." 
 
 Miss Severoid's smile was wan and undecided. She 
 felt queer chilly, and half inclined to go to sleep 
 where she stood. 
 
 "B-but you can't see !" she protested. "And " 
 
 "Plymouth can," McClure retorted tersely, and in 
 a second had lifted her in his arms with an ease 
 and swiftness that was as surprising as it was com 
 fortable. 
 
 "Oh pi-please! I" 
 
 "Go on, Plymouth." 
 
 Plymouth obeyed without a comment of any sort. 
 He did not even grin, and as Miss Severoid's arm 
 crept round McClure's neck, silence reigned again. 
 
 They plodded on, groping in a maze that seemed to 
 have no beginning or end, time and again wheeling to 
 the right. 
 
 Miss Severoid's sensations were mixed. The com 
 fort and strength and safety of McClure's arms were 
 intimate factors of her immediate existence that made 
 her forget the majority of her minor miseries all of 
 them, in fact, but the dull pain in the back of her head 
 and the queer chills that attacked her spine. 
 
 Her head slipped down upon McClure's shoulder, 
 and in the heavier drowsiness that was creeping over 
 her she had vague thoughts of love and malaria and 
 Clavering and Benin City, all of which were hopelessly 
 mixed and unintelligible.
 
 164 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 But her arm tightened its grip about McClure's 
 neck, and, having very little understanding of what 
 she did, she clung to him in a manner that made him 
 gasp and wonder and pray silently to be able to see her 
 face. 
 
 Then, as Plymouth swung hopefully into a broader 
 path than any they had yet encountered, a violent chill 
 seized Miss Severoid, and, quivering from head to 
 foot, her teeth chattered quite audibly. 
 
 McClure halted. 
 
 "Chilly ?" he asked, trying to conceal his anxiety. 
 
 And Miss Severoid heard him as though his voice 
 came to her from a great distance out of a very black 
 night. v 
 
 "N-no just a little. I'll be all right soon," 
 she whispered as she drifted, chalky white and blue of 
 lip, into a welcome oblivion. 
 
 McClure stood quite still. He could not see, but he 
 could feel her added weight, and he suffered the tor 
 ment of the damned in the silence that followed. 
 
 Then Plymouth was clutching his arm excitedly and 
 saying hoarsely : 
 
 "White man live, sah ! I look him ! T'ree minute 
 pass, we go catch him !" 
 
 Which was true. 
 
 About a hundred yards along the path a gentleman 
 in immaculate white flannels, a dark red cummerbund 
 and a turbaned helmet, stood beside a bundle of some 
 sort, prodding it in lazy inquiry with the toe of a spot 
 less white buckskin boot. 
 
 The gentleman's name was Clavering. 
 
 And the bundle was the pack Cralla's luckless car 
 rier had left behind. 
 
 Plymouth had completed the circle.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 DISCIPLINE 
 
 CLAVERING was studying the pack as though he did 
 not care very much whether its presence there was 
 explained or not. But as he flicked a few specks of 
 cigarette ash from the lapel of his coat he raised his 
 head and saw the strange little company that came 
 slowly toward him. 
 
 The languid air left him instantly. For once in his 
 life, at least, he was evidently at a loss to know how to 
 meet the situation. There was a trace of anxiety in 
 his face, too ; an anxiety that made him go forward to 
 meet McClure, who, because his limp burden occupied 
 all the attention of his arms, could not indulge a very 
 natural inclination to tear the handkerchief from his 
 eyes so that he might learn, if he could, the identity of 
 the white man to whom Plymouth had referred. 
 
 Though the Kroo-boy had heard about Clavering, 
 he had never seen him; and when the outlaw halted a 
 few paces away to take stock of the sightless McClure 
 and to glance anxiously into Miss Severoid's face, 
 Plymouth shuffled to a stop and eyed the stranger 
 hopefully. 
 
 Clavering waited a second or two. 
 
 "What's the trouble ?" McClure growled. "What 
 are you stopping for ? Where's the white man ? Hol 
 ler, you bushman ! Holler !" 
 
 "No need, Mac," Clavering interposed in a low voice, 
 and saw McClure straighten sharply and take a firmer 
 hold upon Miss Severoid's sagging weight. "Can 
 you manage as far as Basanna ? It's almost a mile " 
 
 165
 
 i66 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 McClure grunted derisively, though his arms were 
 numbed to a sensation of brittleness and felt as if they 
 would snap at any moment. Having recognized Clav- 
 ering's smooth voice at once, the incongruity of the 
 situation was not lost upon him. 
 
 "Thanks. Go on. I'll manage." 
 
 The cigarette between Clavering's lips drooped a 
 little, and the indifferent smile he essayed was not a 
 success. 
 
 With a very terse "All right," and no more than 
 that, he turned abruptly and led the wanderers toward 
 Basanna. 
 
 Walking upon McClure's left, his gaze became fixed 
 upon the dent in Miss Severoid's helmet, and he exam 
 ined it as though he were trying to connect it in some 
 way with the pallor of her cheeks. 
 
 "What happened to your eyes, Mac?" he asked 
 casually, when they had gone about fifty yards. "Sun 
 hit them ?" 
 
 McClure kept on as though he had not heard. Con 
 sidering that both he and Miss Severoid were hope 
 lessly at the mercy of any devilment that Clavering 
 chose to conceive, and remembering a vivid occasion 
 on which he had held the outlaw's neck in jeopardy, 
 the latter's magnanimous attitude was rather difficult 
 to understand. 
 
 "I'll talk later," the trader answered shortly. "I 
 need all the breath I've got just now." 
 
 Clavering's eyes did not leave Miss Severoid's face, 
 not even when he forced himself to laugh at McClure's 
 dogged candor, nor when the patter of running feet 
 heralded the approach of Ilora from the direction of 
 Basanna. 
 
 She was running toward them, evidently very 
 anxious about the health of her mistress. 
 
 "Be Miss Sev'roi' maid, sah," Plymouth announced
 
 DISCIPLINE 167 
 
 hopefully, and Clavering, looking up, shouted at the 
 girl in Jackrie, so that she stopped and instantly sped 
 back the way she had come. 
 
 Clavering continued to examine the dent in Miss 
 Severoid's helmet. His brows were knitted in a 
 thoughtful frown, and his glance, lifting lazily, he 
 looked straight ahead in the direction in which Ilora 
 had gone. 
 
 There was nothing definite in that look. He was 
 thinking only of the fact that Ilora had deserted her 
 mistress and had thereby given McClure the oppor 
 tunity to play the role of hero. 
 
 But his fingers twitched nervously and suggestively, 
 his face assumed a graying hue, and the smile upon his 
 lips did not belong to earth or heaven. 
 
 In a remarkably short space of time just as they 
 had squeezed their way into the bush path leading to 
 Basanna Ilora came racing back to meet them, fol 
 lowed by the hammock-bearers; and McClure being 
 satisfied that everything was all right, relinquished 
 Miss Severoid into their care. 
 
 A few short, sharp words from Clavering sent Ilora 
 and the hammock-bearers on ahead, and ere McClure 
 had reached the haven of a comparatively cool and dark 
 hut, Miss Severoid was in bed McClure's camp bed 
 this time struggling back to consciousness with the 
 assistance of Ilora and a wizened old mammy who did 
 not know a thermometer from a quinin pill, but who 
 knew how to do as she was told. 
 
 Clavering hung back in the shadows, giving soft- 
 voiced instructions, and there were no interruptions or 
 intrusions of any kind. No one came to the door 
 inquisitively to discover what was going on; not even 
 Chief Mora himself. The chief of Basanna knew 
 Clavering's displeasure too well for that. 
 
 There was no sign of Cralla. His boys were hud-
 
 i68 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 died in a shady corner of Mora's compound, most of 
 them fast asleep, while the rest lolled about, happy in 
 the knowledge that they would not have to work until 
 the "white mammy" got well again. 
 
 No one could have said that the Beni village of 
 Basanna was other than abominably filthy. And it 
 smelled vilely. All Beni villages do. 
 
 A Beni never washes anything himself included. 
 For the greater part, he is a lazy, dirty, treacherous 
 beast ; a disgusting, disease-ridden spawn of barbarity, 
 with a gluttonous passion for the sight of other men's 
 blood. He eats, sleeps, and crawls through his miser 
 able life to a grave in an open ditch. 
 
 His chiefs are as gods ; and though Chief Mora was 
 a pretty miserable sort of god being a shrunken, sniv 
 eling, parasitic old sinner who lived in hourly terror of 
 the death that was crawling up on to his shoulders and 
 clutching him about the throat, and who would sell his 
 brother for a bottle of gin yet his people bowed their 
 necks under his yoke just as submissively as though he 
 were as big and powerful and as terrible as the great 
 Daka of Benin City. 
 
 Consequently, because Mora's fear of Clavering de 
 scended to his people, Basanna was very quiet, and the 
 hut in which Miss Severoid lay was sacred ground. 
 
 McClure's was next door. There were but a few 
 yards of space between them, but whereas McClure's 
 hut was a small one, Miss Severoid's was large enough 
 to be converted into two rooms with the assistance of 
 native mats strung together and hung from the ceiling. 
 
 The camp bed had been erected in the inner room, 
 and some mats were strewn upon the earthen floor. 
 Two camp-chairs had been carried in and a medicine- 
 chest lay upon one of them. 
 
 Clavering remained in the shadows, watching Ilora's 
 ministrations with a hawklike eye. And she knew he
 
 DISCIPLINE 169 
 
 was watching her. Her movements were nervous and 
 her knees trembled. 
 
 That Clavering had not asked her why she had de 
 serted her mistress was an ominous circumstance; so 
 ominous that Ilora began to doubt the possible effec 
 tiveness of the plausible excuse she had invented. 
 Her mind scurried frantically about for another, seized 
 upon several, and jumbled them up in chaotic confu 
 sion. 
 
 Miss Severoid's eyes opened wearily. There was 
 no life or understanding in them. 
 
 "It's no use," she murmured sadly at no one in par 
 ticular, with the gray film over her senses and vision 
 not yet lifted. "You can't carry me like this for 
 ever. And my head is wabbling so." 
 
 Her dull gold head rolled restlessly on the pillows. 
 
 "And your eyes are hurting you, too. Please let 
 me down and I'll try to walk." 
 
 The whispering voice died away in a low, restless 
 moan. Over Clavering's cheek-bones the skin was 
 drawn tight as a drum, and his head craned forward a 
 little. Ilora and the aged mammy stood together at 
 the foot of the bed, and the beady eyes of the old 
 woman were fixed upon the patient. But Ilora was 
 watching Clavering. 
 
 An eternity seemed to pass before Miss Severoid's 
 voice came again in husky appeal. 
 
 "Why don't you let me down ? Your arms must be 
 breaking and your poor eyes they hurt terribly, don't 
 they ?" A pause. "I do wish my head wouldn't wab 
 ble so. I think my helmet's crooked, and I'm afraid 
 of the sun." Another pause. "Do you really think 
 it was a man who hit me so hard ? I thought it was a 
 tree falling. If I hadn't had on my helmet I'd have 
 been killed, and that would be mean, wouldn't it, after 
 coming so far?" A pitiful little smile curved her
 
 170 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 pallid lips, and she looked straight into the shadows at 
 Clavering, but with a blank stare that told him she did 
 not see. "But I'm a baby to bother you like this. 
 You've been so good to me so patient and trustful 
 and and oh, I wonder what you'll think when you 
 know?" 
 
 Her arms struggled from beneath the covers as 
 though she might be trying to wriggle out of Mc- 
 Clure's grasp, and, raising her head a little, she fought 
 desperately for a few minutes till, the gray film lifting 
 all at once, she started up, to look wildly about her, try 
 ing to understand. 
 
 "Wh-whereishe?" 
 
 Not "Where am I?" but "Where is he?" 
 
 Clavering winced and shut his teeth very tightly. 
 But as he tiptoed into the light and toward the bedside 
 his face betrayed nothing more than a welcoming smile 
 that tried to be an assurance of good faith. 
 
 "He is next door doctoring his eyes," he said gently. 
 "And you are in Basanna and in good hands. But I 
 think you'd better lie down again and put your arms 
 under the covers or you may get chilled." 
 
 And as Miss Severoid stared at him in blank aston 
 ishment and not a little fear and confusion, he turned 
 to Ilora, muttering a low order in Jackrie which made 
 the girl approach the bed instantly and tuck the covers 
 tightly about the patient so that they hugged her chin. 
 
 Then the girl, with a furtive glance at Clavering, 
 shuffled into the background again, while the wizened 
 old mammy, mumbling to herself and grinning mean- 
 inglessly, watched the outlaw bend over the medicine- 
 chest 
 
 He was passionless, to all appearances, as a knife 
 blade. Producing a clinical thermometer he jerked 
 the mercury down to normal. 
 
 The shock of seeing him again so suddenly had
 
 DISCIPLINE 171 
 
 cleared Miss Severoid's head as quickly as a cold 
 douche might have done. The dark-red cummerbund 
 about his waist held her attention like a magnet. The 
 expression upon her face was that of a child groping 
 fearfully, yet hopefully, out of a goblin-filled dream 
 to the dawn of another day. 
 
 "Hold this under your tongue a minute," she heard 
 Clavering say, and he loomed over her very suddenly. 
 "I am not much of a doctor, but I think I can read one 
 of these things." 
 
 Miss Severoid smiled and obediently closed her lips 
 upon the thermometer. Yet she had never been so 
 much afraid of anything as she was of Clavering just 
 then. The power of his personality seemed to com 
 bat her efforts to get a firm mental grip upon her 
 situation, and to feel herself slipping into a sort of 
 trancelike submission to his will was, under the cir 
 cumstances, a terrifying sensation. 
 
 In the minute or two of silence that followed she 
 could hear the village awakening from its sweltering 
 mid-day slumbers, but the sounds were subdued as 
 though the order to talk in whispers had gone abroad. 
 Clavering strolled to the doorway, looked out for a 
 little while, then returned. His glance fell upon Ilora 
 for a second and her flesh shivered away from it as 
 from a lash. 
 
 "Please," he said gently to Miss Severoid, and his 
 hand went out for the thermometer which her lips re 
 leased at once. "I don't think you are so bad as I 
 thought at first." 
 
 In a moment, however, he learned that her tempera 
 ture was a fraction above 104 degrees. But his face 
 did not show it. He smiled with an "I told you so" 
 air and said lightly : 
 
 "Oh, that isn't bad. Does your head hurt very 
 much?"
 
 i;2 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "N-no not very. It feels swimmy." 
 
 "Any sharp, stabbing sort of pains at the nape of 
 the neck?" Clavering was thinking of the dented hel 
 met and the sun. 
 
 "No, just a dull, miserable sort of ache, and and 
 I'm cold then very warm like influenza, only worse. 
 What's my temperature?" 
 
 "A fraction over a hundred," Clavering lied easily. 
 "But you've got to be very quiet and take all the pow 
 ders and things we give you." 
 
 He smiled again, and, turning to Ilora and her 
 wizened assistant, rattled off several orders in Jackrie 
 which they hastened to obey with all possible speed 
 particularly Ilora, who was chilled to the marrow of 
 her bones by the promise of what was to come. 
 
 Clavering busied himself, too, measuring out phe- 
 nacetin powders with the accuracy of a chemist, and 
 Miss Severoid, shivering convulsively and biting her 
 lips, watched him and wondered if the thoughts and 
 fancies that were surging through her mind were not 
 more fever than fact. 
 
 And then the drowsiness came to her again. She 
 had a dim understanding of drinking something very 
 hot and sour, and of falling back upon the pillows 
 exhausted with the effort. The hazy figure of Claver 
 ing, seated on a camp chair beside the bed, seemed to 
 follow her into the gloom his burning black eyes 
 and gleaming teeth particularly and she saw him in 
 a hundred guises as she tossed restlessly in semicon- 
 sciousness beneath the sweltering pack of blankets. 
 
 McClure did not appear in any of the pictures. He 
 had drifted into the background behind Clavering's 
 dominating personality which dwarfed all other things. 
 But the outlaw, watching Miss Severoid's forehead for 
 the first sign of perspiration, could not be expected to 
 know that. Consequently his expression was rather
 
 DISCIPLINE 173 
 
 hard, more particularly when he turned his head to 
 glance at Ilora who lay upon a mat immediately under 
 the square hole in the wall that served for a window. 
 
 Each time he looked in her direction he found her 
 watching him, and each time their eyes met the girl 
 would shrink and her body would creep shudderingly 
 away from the promise in his. 
 
 Then he rose very quietly, went over to Miss Sever- 
 oid's small uniform case and, picking up the battered 
 helmet which lay on top, returned to his chair by the 
 bed, passing the tips of his fingers over the patient's 
 forehead as he did so. It was still hot and dry. 
 
 Clavering's lips twitched a little, and he held the 
 helmet in his hands between his knees, staring fixedly 
 at the jagged dent in it as though he were trying to 
 read the story it told. 
 
 Then his glance shot toward Ilora again suddenly. 
 
 "No be me !" she whimpered instantly, the denial of 
 her guilt forced from her in the belief that Clavering 
 was connecting her in some way with the dent in the 
 helmet. "No be me ! Be 'nother man. Be " 
 
 She stopped instantly aware of the fact that she 
 had made a mistake, and the glistening ebony of her 
 cheeks became the color of dirty gray ashes. 
 
 Clavering did not speak nor move. But his face 
 was no longer the face of a man, but of a pale-yellow 
 fiend whose eyes blazed like living coals and whose 
 lips were drawn back from his teeth in a hideous, 
 wolfish grin. 
 
 And Ilora, shrinking yet obedient to the command 
 in his glance, writhed and twisted her way across the 
 floor to his feet, where she lay shivering like a whipped 
 puppy looking up at him in terrorized appeal. 
 
 There was a long and painful silence. 
 
 Clavering was shaking perceptibly with the violence 
 of his inhuman passion, but it was evident after a
 
 174 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 minute or two that he was victorious in the struggle 
 to master it. The ghastly grin faded slowly, and then 
 the death-light in his eyes flickered for a little while 
 and went out. 
 
 Stretching forth a hand that visibly trembled he 
 again passed the tips of his fingers over Miss Sever- 
 oid's forehead and found it slightly moist. His fingers 
 lingered for a moment or two, and the touch seemed 
 to steady him and bring about a cold, emotionless 
 calm. 
 
 When he looked down at Ilora again there was not 
 a particle of feeling in his face. 
 
 "This time be flog palaver. Next time " 
 
 Ilora understood perfectly, and she threw her arms 
 about his knees and paid homage to the soles of his 
 shoes, groveling at his feet in savage ecstasy at her 
 escape from the death of a bush-dog. 
 
 "Cralla come to-night," Clavering said, thrusting 
 her from him with an unceremonious toe. "Bring the 
 quinin." 
 
 He was himself again. 
 
 All afternoon, attended by the tireless Plymouth, 
 McClure lay upon mats in the darkest corner of his 
 hut, silently praying for the power to see. 
 
 There were wet bandages over his swollen, blood 
 shot eyes, and the darting pains had been alleviated a 
 little: but he was sure that both pupils had been irre 
 trievably damaged. 
 
 A man may lose a limb and laugh; but threaten his 
 eyesight and he will probably whine. 
 
 .McClure did not whine, partly because he was not 
 built that way, but greatly because he did not wish to 
 give Clavering the satisfaction of hearing him. So he 
 bit upon his pains and his dread and spent most of his 
 time wondering what the upshot of it all would be.
 
 DISCIPLINE 175 
 
 Plymouth told him where Miss Severoid was lodged, 
 how she was being cared for, and that she had a touch 
 of malaria but was speedily reducing her temperature 
 in copious perspiration. 
 
 Clavering came in about five in the afternoon and, 
 confirming Plymouth's bulletins, asked with some con 
 cern : 
 
 "How are the eyes, Mac? Any better?" 
 
 McClure writhed. His was not a pleasant situa 
 tion. Clavering' s magnanimity had an edge like a 
 razor-blade. 
 
 "Thanks. A little better." 
 
 "Good. Miss Severoid won't be ready to move for 
 two or three days, so you'll have plenty of time to get 
 into shape. I've just had a talk with Cralla, and he 
 told me all about it. He's very apologetic and very 
 much scared that you'll fill him full of lead when you 
 can see to do it. So I've sent him on ahead to keep 
 him out of harm and to pave the way a bit. He'll 
 meet you at Mayona again, and you'll need him, you 
 know, however much you may want to strip the hide 
 off him. So you'd better hold back the eye-for-an-eye 
 part of the program till his usefulness is past. Then 
 you can do as you please." 
 
 McClure made no reply. Clavering's tone was too 
 friendly and too altogether matter-of-fact to be the 
 true expression of his feelings ; and had McClure been 
 aware of the truth that the outlaw had just come from 
 Miss Severoid's hut that he had been there all after 
 noon and that Cralla had not been seen in Basanna 
 since the rain began, the trader would have had still 
 more cause to question Clavering's sincerity. 
 
 Of Miss Severoid's intentions, or of the object of 
 the expedition, nothing was said. Clavering stayed 
 only a few minutes and departed, expressing the hope 
 that McClure's eyes would very soon be all right again,
 
 176 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 so that he could see for himself "how well Miss Sever- 
 oid is being cared for." 
 
 The trader did not reply to the final thrust ; but his 
 jaws bulged perceptibly, and Clavering went out 
 smiling. 
 
 When darkness came McClure, for his eyes' sake, 
 welcomed it. 
 
 But Ilora didn't. 
 
 Late that night, while Miss Severoid slept and the 
 wizened old mammy lay on a mat near the bed, peer 
 ing at her patient in the dim light of a small oil lamp, 
 Chief Cralla appeared in the doorway. 
 
 Clavering had gone over to Mora's hut an hour 
 before. 
 
 There was a hippo-hide thong coiled about the 
 chief's right hand, and in his face there was a hint of 
 the fact that he was going to enjoy himself. 
 
 "Ilora, wall!" 
 
 The girl's flesh quivered at the sound, but she shuf 
 fled obediently to her feet and went quietly out at the 
 chief's heels into the darkness. 
 
 And presently there came to McClure's waking ears 
 the sound of low, whining moans ; no more than that, 
 though a hippo-thong cuts like a knife. 
 
 Cralla was enjoying himself. 
 
 Then some time later Ilora crawled to her mat on 
 the floor of Miss Severoid's hut and lay flat upon her 
 face. Her back was raw. 
 
 The wizened old mammy saw her there, twisting 
 silently in her pain, but she merely shrugged her 
 shrunken shoulders and rolled over into a dreamless 
 sleep. It was none of her business. 
 
 Clavering had to have discipline. And Cralla did 
 the dirty work.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 AN INTRUSION 
 
 THE following morning, as one wet bandage was 
 giving way to another, McClure found that he could 
 keep his eyelids open long enough to see just a little. 
 But it was in the late afternoon of the fourth day be 
 fore he had the courage, even with the aid of a palm 
 leaf shaped into an eye-shade, to dare the light again. 
 
 In the interval Clavering had been an ideal host. 
 
 To Miss Severoid he had been courteous and gentle 
 in the extreme. If young Debenham's exact relation 
 ship to her bothered him at all, he asked no questions 
 about it; nor when she was convalescent did he take 
 advantage of the situation to annoy her with such 
 attentions as, in Segwanga, he had risked his neck to 
 thrust upon her. 
 
 Miss Severoid was not sure whether his restraint 
 and his somewhat Chesterfieldian attitude was a pose 
 or a reformation, but sometimes, when he looked at 
 her, she thought she could hear his eyes say: 
 
 "You are in the cup of my hand. I can do as I 
 please. But that will come later." 
 
 Which, naturally enough, made her very dubious 
 about the future, and made her feel, still more keenly, 
 the need of McClure's protection. 
 
 So far as the trader was concerned, Clavering had 
 not shown a trace of animosity ; in fact, had not trou 
 bled him at all, except to look into his hut each morn 
 ing to ask cheerily and thoughtfully about his eyes, 
 
 177
 
 178 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 which made McClure's temper about as smooth as a 
 rasp. 
 
 Basanna had remained as peaceful as an English vil 
 lage in the dog-days; and nothing could have proved 
 Clavering's peculiar power more than the manner in 
 which Chief Mora and his people refrained from 
 intruding upon the privacy of the village's guests. 
 McClure, who understood these things, marveled and 
 ruminated very dubiously at the same time. 
 
 That Clavering had a plan of some sort in mind the 
 trader did not doubt for a moment; and he was quite 
 convinced that it was not a pretty one. There was 
 some particularly refined deviltry behind it all some 
 thing that would make the hospitality of Basanna a 
 sardonic mockery. 
 
 However, McClure was grateful for the opportunity 
 given him to regain his sight, and when, even with the 
 improvised eye-shade, he could look along the glitter 
 ing barrel of his .45 caliber and perforate the thick 
 green hide of a coconut at a little over a hundred yards, 
 he felt that there was a fighting chance left to him. 
 
 Miss Severoid was actually responsible for the 
 shooting. 
 
 Still a trifle weak and shaky, yet laughingly leading 
 McClure from .his hut to dare the late afternoon sun 
 shine, she jested at his natural timidity in the face of 
 the light, and the trader, declaring that he was "all 
 right," and boasting wildly that he could see well 
 enough to hit the coconut in question proved it ! 
 
 Which startled himself and Miss Severoid consid 
 erably, made several half-naked Benis jump and gasp 
 with awe, and brought Clavering to the door of Mora's 
 hut with an oath upon his lips. 
 
 Plymouth, who stood behind McClure, grinned the 
 width of his face, and Ilora, in the shadows of Miss 
 Severoid's doorway, drew a long breath of savage joy,
 
 AN INTRUSION 179 
 
 straightened her stiff and aching back and mumbled 
 that her gods were good. In her own way she loved 
 the gigantic trader, greatly because he showed no fear 
 of Clavering; and she was convinced that the speckled 
 lizard she had held captive outside McClure's door was 
 responsible for his recovery. 
 
 "He is just testing his eyesight," Miss Severoid 
 called to Clavering, with a little shake in her voice 
 that was also present in her knees as the ordeal of 
 having to face Clavering and McClure together seemed 
 to threaten. 
 
 "All right. I'll forgive him/' the outlaw returned, 
 smiling pleasantly, but with his eyes carefully fixed 
 upon the trader's smoking revolver. "Better put it 
 away, Mac. Sounds like these are rebellious." 
 
 McClure was looking across the space between them 
 heavily, and Miss Severoid was watching him with a 
 somewhat quaking interest. 
 
 That was the first time he had ever seen Clavering 
 in daylight, and he appeared to be making the most of 
 his opportunity, while the outlaw, white-flanneled and 
 impossibly clean in the midst of such squalor, returned 
 the distant scrutiny with a mild hint that it might be 
 come annoying. But he made no move to approach. 
 
 McClure's revolver went back into its holster very 
 slowly. 
 
 "Let let's have some tea," Miss Severoid sug 
 gested timidly, and brought his attention from Claver 
 ing to herself with a jerk. 
 
 "Er oh, yes tea of course! Is he going to " 
 
 "N-no. Just we two " and glancing swiftly to 
 ward Mora's doorway she saw to her infinite relief 
 that Clavering had gone in again. "I'm gasping for 
 a cup." 
 
 McClure followed her into the hut, and when Ilora, 
 ordered to bring water, took up a cooler and made a
 
 180 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 shuffling exit, he watched her go out with the eye of a 
 cattle-dealer sizing up a steer. Then, looking intently 
 at Miss Severoid, he asked quietly : 
 
 "Who has been thrashing that girl ?" 
 
 "Thrashing her!" 
 
 McClure nodded slowly. 
 
 "Yes, I'm afraid so. When she picked up that 
 cooler I could see she had been under the influence of 
 hippo-hide and a lot of it quite recently. That stiff 
 and jerky straightening of the back is unmistakable. 
 At home we'd call it rheumatism, but among the under 
 dogs out here, it's reasonably sure to be hippo-hide. 
 And she fastens her cloth over the shoulders instead of 
 under the arms, so I fancy the marks are fairly well 
 scattered and high." 
 
 Miss Severoid was astounded and horrified both. 
 
 "You mean that some one has actually thrashed her 
 with one of those terrible whips?" 
 
 McClure inclined his head again and moodily 
 studied the native mat at his feet. Clavering's mag 
 nanimity still rankled like a jagged barb, and, try as he 
 would, the trader could not associate the outlaw with 
 any sort of charity that did not have an ulterior motive 
 attached. 
 
 "How has his lordship been behaving himself?" he 
 asked at last. 
 
 "Oh, splendidly!" Miss Severoid answered without 
 a moment's hesitation. "He's been awfully kind. 
 Just like a big brother, and I really cannot believe that 
 he hasn't some' good in him. He's queer and uncanny 
 and all that, but he can be as gentle as a woman when 
 he likes. But don't let us talk about him. Sit down 
 and let me look at your eyes. I couldn't see them 
 properly in that dark little place of yours." 
 
 McClure eyed one of the camp-chairs a moment 
 dubiously, then risked it. The chair bore the strain
 
 AN INTRUSION 181 
 
 nobly, and Miss Severoid examined his eyes with a 
 soft motherly tenderness that gave him a disagreeable 
 sensation that he was being petted. 
 
 "They look terribly painful," she said in a tone that 
 was very, very sorry for them. "Do they hurt 
 much?" 
 
 "No not at all," McClure lied cheerfully. "I 
 e-er I think you'd better sit down, don't you? You 
 are not quite yourself yet." 
 
 "Wait a minute till I fix this again. I'm not so 
 terribly weak as all that." 
 
 She smiled down at him, and though the pallor of 
 her cheeks and the slight fever-born heaviness that 
 hung about her eyes belied her assumption of strength, 
 her smile scattered the lie like chaff. 
 
 "There ! I think that will stay that way," she said, 
 referring to the palm-leaf eye-shade which she re 
 adjusted. "Does it feel as if it would ?" 
 
 "Yes, thanks ! Still a little shaky, aren't you?" 
 
 He caught her arm gently as she swayed a trifle, and 
 she laughed. 
 
 "Just a little. Think you could carry me to that 
 chair?" 
 
 She reached it before he could move. It was only 
 two yards away, and her low laughter made the dingy, 
 insalubrious hut a drawing-room, and the sordid pros 
 pect of the sun-baked compound, littered with filth and 
 Mora's naked children, an English lawn peopled with 
 afternoon idlers in silks and tennis flannels. 
 
 "I er I hope I did not offend you by carrying 
 you?" 
 
 "Offend me! How should I have reached here if 
 you hadn't ? And I I want to say how much I " 
 
 "Don't do that. It was my fool of a boy's fault. 
 And I really should apologize to you for all the misery 
 his blundering has given you. He's a good boy-
 
 I&5 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 faithful as a sheep-dog, but without that animal's 
 brains." A pause. "You are still determined to go 
 through with this ?" 
 
 "Yes," very quietly. 
 
 "And this sort of thing" a sweep of his hand em 
 braced Basanna and the bush and the perils of sickness 
 and accident "doesn't frighten you?" 
 
 "No. I expected it, and it will probably be worse." 
 
 The tightening of McClure's lips agreed with her, 
 and there followed a short, awkward quiet. Miss Sev- 
 eroid trifled with a dainty handkerchief, and McClure, 
 glimpsing a rude and cruel wrestling match through 
 the window, watched it abstractedly till the taller of 
 the two contestants slipped and fell, to the shrill- 
 voiced enjoyment of a few greasy-looking spectators. 
 
 "You trust Clavering implicitly, then?" 
 
 Miss Severoid hesitated and glanced quickly about 
 her. 
 
 "I'm not sure," she whispered. "Though goodness 
 knows he's been good as gold to me here. No one 
 could have been kinder or more gentle, and and oh, 
 I can't make him out at all ! He's so queer sometimes, 
 and that beast Cralla seems to be like his right arm. 
 One can't ever be sure of what he is going to do next. 
 Did he say anything to you about where Cralla had 
 gone?" 
 
 "Mayona, I believe. The chief is to meet us there. 
 It's only half a day away." 
 
 "Is Mr. Clavering going with us to Mayona?" 
 
 "He didn't say." 
 
 "You don't feel as if you'd like to shoot him, do 
 you?" 
 
 McClure laughed shortly, and his hand, straying 
 absently to his revolver, came slowly away again. 
 
 "Under the circumstances, I'm afraid not."
 
 AN INTRUSION 183 
 
 "Don't you really think he has been very good to 
 us?" 
 
 "Um yes I suppose so." 
 
 "You don't say that very enthusiastically." She 
 regarded McClure for a little while dubiously. "You 
 you're not sorry for anything, are you ?" 
 
 "Sorry !" McClure rose, stretching his great limbs. 
 "No, not at all. I'm at sea about most of what it's all 
 about, but still I'm rather thankful for some things." 
 
 "Such as?" 
 
 "Being able to see you again." 
 
 He said it quite calmly so calmly that Miss Sever- 
 oid wondered if he had said it at all. 
 
 "Thank you," very quietly, and looking quickly out 
 of the window was just in time to glimpse Cralla's 
 head man vanishing into the bush with a black, tar 
 paulin-covered carrier's pack on his back. "But I 
 thought you left that sort of thing to the others." 
 
 "I meant that." 
 
 Miss Severoid laughed softly and glanced swiftly 
 upward. She had not recognized either the head man 
 or the pack. 
 
 "Don't you want to sit down, or is that camp-chair 
 too low?"' 
 
 McClure looked down at her very seriously, his head 
 bent forward a little, his arms hanging easily by his 
 sides. 
 
 "You are the most wonderful woman I've ever 
 known. Whether I love you or not I can't say, be 
 cause I've had no practical experience in analyzing 
 these things. But I want you more than I ever wanted 
 anything, and well I'd just like to know if it's any 
 use hoping. May I ?" 
 
 Miss Severoid's smile faded, and she did not blush. 
 She looked frightened shrinkingly so, as though Me-
 
 184 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Cure's peculiar and deliberate proposal had been a 
 blow. 
 
 Then she laughed again a strange, whimsical little 
 ripple that sounded hollow. 
 
 "You I please don't." She looked up at him in 
 timid appeal. "I I thought you wouldn't wouldn't 
 ever be like that. You mustn't, because I I can't 
 I oh, please!" 
 
 She bent her head suddenly, covering her face with 
 her hands, and McClure, though he felt the tempera 
 ture drop all at once and the world sink and slip from 
 beneath his feet, made no sound. 
 
 The buzz and the scattering shrieks of Beni village 
 life had died away and a strange quiet had settled over 
 compound and hut. But McClure did not take note 
 of these things then. He was thinking of how lucky 
 Ralph Debenham had been and of how little the 
 "young fool" had appreciated it; and from that mo 
 ment McClure eliminated himself, blotted out his 
 dreams and turned his face toward the future without 
 whining and without a single word of pleading or a 
 question as to the whole truth. 
 
 "That er that's all right," he said, breaking a 
 seemingly interminable silence and scarcely recogni 
 zing his own voice. "My fault. Sorry I " 
 
 Just then the sound of a scuffling foot came into the 
 shadows of the doorway and Ilora looked in just a 
 moment. 
 
 "Gov'ment come !" she announced raspingly as Mc 
 Clure swiftly turned his head; and then she slipped 
 away again as though she did not care whether he 
 heard or not. 
 
 "Wh-what is it?" Miss Severoid whispered and 
 started instantly to her feet. 
 
 There was a look of hopefulness on McClure's face. 
 He was glad the government had come. It was time
 
 AN INTRUSION 185 
 
 some one or something came to put an end to the 
 insane project. 
 
 "I don't know," he answered. "Some one said the 
 government had come, and I suppose that means we 
 can't go on." 
 
 "Can't" 
 
 Miss Severoid's slender figure became stiff and taut 
 in a second. Her mouth twisted queerly and tight 
 ened, and the flashing lights that sprang into her eyes 
 were those of some wild thing upon whose heart terror 
 had set its clutch. 
 
 "They mustn't stop us! They mustn't! I won't 
 go back ! I I where is Clav " 
 
 McClure's hand went over her mouth most uncere 
 moniously. 
 
 Lieutenant Maybrick, of Saloko, accompanied by 
 two khaki-clad Yoruba orderlies, came into the door 
 way.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 BETRAYED 
 
 McCLURE fumbled with his soft collar, then with his 
 belt; squared his shoulders and let them sag again 
 pulled nervously upon his mustache and gave the gen 
 eral impression that he did not know what to do with 
 himself. 
 
 Lieutenant Maybrick tall, clean-shaven, with a 
 somewhat weak mouth, and radiating a suggestion of 
 boyishness in spite of his command and his thirty-odd 
 years stood with his helmet in his hand, considering 
 Miss Severoid's pale face and the smile that broke 
 through her first look of fear, as if he did not know 
 just how to meet it. 
 
 The Yorubas behind him were apparently oblivious 
 of everything but the nape of their officer's neck ; and 
 beyond them Basanna was as quiet as a graveyard at 
 night. But a company of sphinx-faced Yorubas, 
 armed with rifles that are known to be capable of 
 killing at a thousand yards, usually has that quieting 
 effect upon such noxious sores as Basanna was upon 
 the earth's surface. 
 
 And in those troublous days, when Clavering was at 
 the zenith of his power, standing the name of gov 
 ernment on its head before there was a police de 
 partment at Saloko, or any other department save the 
 D. C.'s office, those khaki-clad little brown men did 
 most of the work in counteracting Clavering's baleful 
 influence upon the rude Delta native, and in impressing 
 
 186
 
 BETRAYED 187 
 
 the latter with his first conception of government. In 
 the Beni country, where Clavering was known to be 
 exceptionally powerful, they were as necessary to an 
 officer as his tooth-brush. 
 
 But Lieutenant Maybrick almost forgot he had them 
 when he became aware of the fact that Miss Severoid 
 had eyes velvet-blue eyes that did not flinch, but in 
 stead looked straight at him in a soft, steady, appealing 
 sort of way that made it very difficult to be an officer 
 rather than a man. 
 
 "Er that is hello, Maybrick!" McClure managed 
 to say at last. "Come in. Allow me to introduce 
 you to Miss Severoid. Miss Severoid, this is Lieuten 
 ant Maybrick, of Saloko a power in the state. Lieu 
 tenant Maybrick Miss Severoid." 
 
 McClure's forcedly easy tone startled the lieutenant 
 somewhat. It was not in the least what he had ex 
 pected. Neither was Miss Severoid. 
 
 In Saloko, when the news of the "elopement" came 
 through from Segwanga per runner, it created quite a 
 stir, and because the district commissioner at Saloko 
 had never basked in the sunshine of Miss Severoid's 
 smiles, he became extremely active in his efforts to 
 discover if the runaways had come north within his 
 district. 
 
 A colored government hireling, bent upon an even 
 ing's debauch, visited the village of Okanna, where the 
 launch Rover was in hiding, and stumbling upon the 
 launch's colored engineer, John, forgot his intention to 
 get drunk and thought of promotion. He knew John, 
 and a little while later he found the Rover and a large, 
 forty-paddle canoe which information he carried to 
 the district commissioner post-haste. 
 
 After that the trail was comparatively easy to fol 
 low, particularly when John was threatened with 
 sudden extinction if he did not speak out.
 
 188 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 John spoke out all he knew which was the "Benin 
 City road." 
 
 That was enough and a little more, because the 
 D. C. could not conceive of any one eloping along the 
 Benin City road. 
 
 "Mad! McClure's crazy! Good Lord! Poor lit 
 tle woman among those beasts! They'll oh, hell! 
 Orderly!" 
 
 Within a few hours Lieutenant Maybrick, with a 
 company of Yorubas to lend a moral effect, had started 
 off in pursuit of the "mad McClure" with orders to 
 "bring him and the poor woman back. But don't 
 shoot him unless you think it will save time and trouble 
 afterward." 
 
 Consequently the lieutenant, into whose hands the 
 four-days' delay at Basanna had played very con 
 veniently, found the mad McClure's attitude rather 
 astonishing. The trader did not look at all mad, 
 though the palm-leaf eye-shade gave him a curious 
 appearance; and Miss Severoid bore no resemblance 
 to the "poor woman" the lieutenant's imagination had 
 pictured. 
 
 So he hesitated in awkward indecision, trying to 
 adjust his mind to conditions. 
 
 "Are you not going to shake hands with me ?" Miss 
 Severoid asked sweetly. 
 
 "Oh er I beg your pardon," Maybrick stam 
 mered, and came instantly forward to accept the invi 
 tation, finding as he did so that Miss Severoid's hand 
 was different somehow from any other. He could not 
 explain it, but the touch of her fingers and the soft 
 look in her eyes seemed to mother him and make him 
 feel, as he expressed it to himself "like a damned 
 fool!" 
 
 McClure watched but did not wonder. He had seen 
 other men look as Maybrick looked then when their
 
 BETRAYED 189 
 
 eyes encountered Miss Severoid's for the first time. 
 
 ''What are you doing away up here ?" she asked the 
 lieutenant naively, moving toward one of the camp- 
 chairs. "I think you had better sit down, too. You 
 look very tired." 
 
 Maybrick was ill at ease and did not accept the prof 
 fered chair. 
 
 "If it's anything you would like to say to me " 
 McClure began significantly. 
 
 "No. I want to hear it," Miss Severoid broke in 
 hurriedly. "It can't be so dreadful as all that. What 
 is it, lieutenant? You are not going to handcuff me, 
 are you?" 
 
 "Er eh well no hardly that." Maybrick tried 
 to smile and failed. "You er you see, you have no 
 permit, and well the government doesn't allow 
 that is it doesn't allow well I mean " 
 
 "That the government doesn't allow an unmarried 
 woman to roam about the country unless accompanied 
 by a parent or properly appointed guardian?" Miss 
 Severoid completed in a very gentle voice, i "I know 
 all that. But this is different so very different. 
 You'd think so, too, if you were lying in a slave com 
 pound in Benin City waiting for some one to come and 
 take you out." 
 
 Maybrick's eyebrows rose and fell. So did Mc- 
 Clure's ; and he was more accustomed than the lieuten 
 ant to Miss Severoid's practise of thrusting the most 
 startling information at one in the most matter-of-fact 
 way a method that instantly seized upon one's interest 
 and led one to believe that the rest of the story would 
 follow just as easily. 
 
 Which, as he knew, it didn't. 
 
 The lieutenant looked back from Miss Severoid to 
 McClure, then back again, and his eyes became two 
 sharp interrogation points.
 
 190 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "You mean you are going to Benin City?" 
 
 "M-hm oh I mean, yes! Is it so very terrible?" 
 
 And Maybrick's glance turned slowly upon McClure 
 so queerly and so significantly that the trader 
 winced. He knew that the lieutenant was wondering 
 whether he were mad or just an unscrupulous hound 
 who had led Miss Severoid into the Beni country upon 
 a quest he had no intention of completing. 
 
 In short, Maybrick was thinking of McClure what 
 McClure had thought of Clavering. 
 
 "You seem to know the Beni country pretty well," 
 the lieutenant drawled pointedly. "And they treat 
 you like a brother. As a rule that means " 
 
 He stopped as though something very serious had 
 dawned upon him, and wheeling sharply he snapped 
 an order at the two Yorubas to stand guard over the 
 door, then slipped between them out into the com 
 pound. 
 
 Followed a babel of sounds sharp orders in Eng 
 lish and the whimper and whine of scattering Benis as 
 the company of Yorubas broke their line formation 
 and dived in twos and threes into the squalid huts 
 round about them like dogs who had caught the 
 scent. 
 
 They went through Basanna as with a fine-tooth 
 comb, searching for guns or powder or other forbid 
 den fruit that Lieutenant Maybrick had hastily con 
 cluded McClure must have paid to Chief Mora for 
 the hospitality they had received. 
 
 Only these things, at that time, could safely pur 
 chase the Benis' friendship. They were the things 
 that money could not buy. 
 
 Clavering had originally inoculated them with a 
 preference for modern firearms; had shown their 
 chiefs what a Winchester could do and what a muzzle- 
 loader couldn't which made them very much dissatis-
 
 BETRAYED 191 
 
 fied with the muzzle-loader and the namby-pamby gifts 
 the white traders sometimes threw their way. So that 
 when a trader and a chief were suspiciously friendly 
 the government was prone to conclude that the trader 
 had been emulating Clavering's example. 
 
 And the Yorubas found a Winchester and a Mar 
 tini-Henry a few muzzle-loaders, several rounds of 
 ammunition, several kegs of powder, and several more 
 of lead-shot all in Mora's quarters. 
 
 Standing at the window Miss Severoid watched the 
 ominous operations of the Yorubas, quite unconscious 
 of McClure's danger, but growing colder and colder, 
 till it seemed as if an icy hand had seized upon her 
 heart and was squeezing it dry of life and hope and 
 everything that mattered. 
 
 She did not speak or make any sound, and she was 
 hardly aware of McClure's large and silent presence 
 behind her. The Yorubas in the doorway and the 
 sniveling group of Beni women huddled in one corner 
 of Mora's compound were misty quantities that had 
 little to do with the tense anxiety she felt on Claver 
 ing's account; that same anxiety she had experienced 
 when she had pictured him cooped up in Rama's com 
 pound at Saganna. 
 
 She did not even observe that Cralla's boys had dis 
 appeared packs and all together; nor did she realize 
 that most of the male population of Basanna had taken 
 flight. 
 
 Of the expedition party only Plymouth remained. 
 Ilora had also gone. There was not a Jackrie in sight. 
 
 "Where is Clavering?" 
 
 Her mind repeated the question over and over 
 again, and it was upon occasions like this that she real 
 ized how desperately she relied upon his help and how 
 impotent her efforts would be without him. 
 
 And now, she was asking herself, what she would
 
 192 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 do if he were caught? Or, even if he were not, what 
 he could do for her in the teeth of those terrible, 
 khaki-clad little men who seemed to have been born 
 to the business of killing, and who would only be too 
 glad to wipe Basanna and Clavering out of existence ? 
 
 McClure also watched in silence. He knew what 
 had been in Maybrick's mind the moment he had left 
 the hut ; and he knew what the discovery of arms and 
 ammunition would mean to him. It meant that he 
 would be taken back to Saloko and tried upon the 
 charge of high treason for having furnished Mora with 
 munitions of war; and that, unless he could substan 
 tially prove himself innocent, he would most assuredly 
 be deported for trial in England; might even be most 
 ignominiously hanged by the Nigerian authorities, 
 since Clavering's practise of the offense had elevated it 
 to a capital one and had made the powers that were 
 steely-eyed about it. 
 
 The charge was ridiculous, of course; but the un 
 fortunate circumstance was that, so far as McClure 
 could see just then, he could not produce a single wit 
 ness who was not, technically at least, an accomplice. 
 
 Miss Severoid, having no "fixed or authorized occu 
 pation," was actually a vagrant, and subject to imme 
 diate deportation. If Cralla were caught he would be 
 arraigned alongside McClure and would run the serious 
 risk of attaching himself to a chain gang for the rest 
 of his natural life. 
 
 Chief Mora might declare, upon the threat of pains 
 and penalties, who had actually supplied him with the 
 arms and ammunition. But no Beni had ever turned 
 upon Clavering and lived; so that the old chief of 
 Basanna was between two fires and would not be in 
 the least likely to return. 
 
 Further, it was imperative that Clavering's name be 
 kept out of the affair, for while there was an excel-
 
 BETRAYED 193 
 
 lent chance that McClure's previous reputation might 
 have considerable weight with the Nigerian authorities 
 to the extent that he would probably escape the ex 
 treme penalty and simply be deported, the fact that he 
 had been in Basanna in Clavering's company would, if 
 it were known, jar his "previous reputation" com 
 pletely off its pedestal and lead him to the nearest 
 mango tree. 
 
 McClure quickly grasped these salient features of 
 his predicament while he watched the busy little brown 
 men running in and out of Basanna's huts. Then, 
 studying the dull gold of Miss Severoid's hair, he won 
 dered what she would do. 
 
 The velvet touch of her hands and the magnetism in 
 her voice and eyes and lips had drawn him from 
 beaten paths to the very edge of a precipice. His use 
 fulness, so far as she was concerned, was over. There 
 were but two courses open to him ; to submit to arrest 
 and the ignominy of what awaited him at Saloko, or to 
 resist capture and be decently shot. 
 
 But he wondered, in either event, what Miss Sever- 
 oid would do. 
 
 The stiffness and the tensity of her attitude, com 
 bined with her silence, told him quite plainly that she 
 had no intention of turning back, even at the muzzles 
 of the Yoruba rifles; and he knew, too, that she had 
 no understanding of his own situation. 
 
 "Nuisance, isn't it ?" he hazarded finally. 
 
 Miss Severoid did not move for almost a minute; 
 then she turned her head very slowly. 
 
 "I wonder where he went to?" she whispered, and 
 did not realize how much anxiety there was in her face 
 and tone. 
 
 "I don't think you need worry very much about 
 him," McClure returned dryly, emphasizing the final 
 pronoun. "He has been in the same fix a dozen times
 
 194 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 before. What are you going to do when Maybrick 
 comes back? He'll take us back to Saloko, you 
 know." 
 
 Miss Severoid's firm little jaws came together. 
 
 "He won't!" she said deliberately. "I'm going to 
 Benin City and and you're not going to leave me, are 
 you?" 
 
 "Not if I can avoid it. But you see well the 
 lieutenant thinks those guns and things outside Mora's 
 door came from me. And that sort of compli 
 cates " 
 
 "From you! B-but how can he think that?" 
 
 "Because we have lived in the Beni village of Ba- 
 sanna for several days just as safely as if we were in 
 Segwanga, and that privilege, since Clavering gave 
 these people bad habits, can be purchased only by 
 those things. Consequently, because the lieutenant 
 knows nothing of your white-flanneled friend, he 
 makes a very natural deduction and drags me in. And 
 if he thought I'd been hobnobbing with Mr. C. I don't 
 think he'd bother to give me any more of a trial than 
 that gentleman will get when they catch him." 
 
 "You mean he'd" 
 
 "Sh ! Here comes Maybrick back again. What do 
 you wish me to do? Look cheap or make one last 
 play to the gallery?" He fingered the butt of his 
 revolver as he spoke, just to see what she would do. 
 
 With a swift glance into his eyes a look he remem 
 bered long afterward when it was the only thing that 
 made him want to live she leaped at his right hand 
 and seized it in both of hers. 
 
 "Don't!" 
 
 McClure smiled and feasted his soul upon her fright 
 ened eyes. 
 
 "Give me the revolver," she whispered. "Please!" 
 
 He removed his hand from the butt. Instantly
 
 BETRAYED 195 
 
 snatching the weapon from its holster, Miss Severoid 
 sprang away from him in a manner that made him 
 gasp, and ran swiftly toward the door, just as Lieuten 
 ant Maybrick, set-faced and very serious, came in 
 again. 
 
 She almost collided with him, and clutching his 
 arm frantically, thrust McClure's revolver at him as 
 though she could not get rid of it quickly enough. 
 
 "It's Mr. McClure's," she said anxiously. "I I 
 was afraid he was going to shoot you, so I took it 
 from him !"
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF THE GOVERNMENT 
 
 Miss SEVEROID glanced affrightedly behind her, as 
 if she were afraid McClure was in pursuit; and the 
 trader did not know whether to laugh or swear. 
 
 Maybrick, quite subconsciously, put a protecting arm 
 about her as she leaned, limp and breathless, against his 
 shoulder, and the look he gave McClure was steely. 
 
 There was a short, sharp order to the Yorubas in 
 the doorway, and two seconds later the trader was 
 under arrest, with a Yoruba upon either side of him. 
 
 He did not speak, but inwardly he groaned. When 
 ordered to march from the hut into the open he obeyed 
 without demur, striding past the stern-visaged lieuten 
 ant and the woman who shrank into the protection of 
 his good left arm. without so much as a glance at 
 either of them. 
 
 But his soul was writhing in Gehenna for all that! 
 
 Lieutenant Maybrick led Miss Severoid slowly and 
 very gently to a chair. 
 
 He felt that she was much more to be pitied than 
 blamed for having succumbed to the "wiles of a hypo 
 critical beast like McClure," and as he considered that 
 she had probably saved his life, it was not difficult for 
 him to believe that she was not nearly so bad as her 
 situation painted her. In addition to which she was 
 a deucedly pretty woman; and the lieutenant had an 
 eye for feminine loveliness, as a fleeting glance at the 
 lady he had married would have proven. 
 
 196
 
 CONQUEST OF THE GOVERNMENT 197 
 
 "Don't be afraid," he said in a low tone of assur 
 ance. "It's all right. We'll start back for Saloko 
 very shortly, and I don't think he'll bother you again." 
 
 Miss Severoid retained her grip upon his sleeve and 
 looked up at him with large, baby-blue eyes that said 
 she was quite sure she had at last found some one she 
 could trust. 
 
 "You are very good to me," she said simply. "And 
 I'm not a bit afraid with you. I wish you could go on 
 to Benin City with me. Do you think you could ?" 
 
 Maybrick blinked and gaped a little, but Miss Sever 
 oid rattled on, always careful to keep the lieutenant's 
 attention fixed upon her face which he did not find a 
 hardship : 
 
 "You see, I simply have to go, and when I persuaded 
 Mr. McClure to go with me I thought everything 
 would be all right. And it would have been, too, if 
 that beast Cralla hadn't struck Mr. McClure across 
 the eyes with one of those terrible whips and then run 
 away and left us in a rain-storm. 
 
 "Mr. McClure could not see and we got lost. Then, 
 after we'd walked and walked, and I began to limp 
 and feel queer and chilly, Mr. McClure carried me 
 oh, I don't know how long !" 
 
 "But I thought you said he could not see ?" the lieu 
 tenant interposed mildly, and his look was becoming 
 just a little covetous. 
 
 "And he couldn't. He just had to stumble along 
 and trust to the guidance of the Kroo-boy who was 
 with us. Then I fainted or something, and when I 
 woke up I was in that bed over there and Mr. Claver- 
 ing was standing " 
 
 "Clavering!" Lieutenant Maybrick's jaw dropped 
 stupidly. 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Clavering looking as if he'd stepped out 
 of a tailor's shop window. I don't know where he
 
 198 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 came from, but I'd met him once before, you know, 
 when the Mission launch broke down and " 
 
 "Yes er yes, I heard of that. And what did he 
 do this time?'* 
 
 "Took care of me like a brother. He was really 
 awfully nice, and he must have given that old beast 
 Mora all those guns and things to keep him quiet, be 
 cause we haven't been bothered in the least while we've 
 been here. 
 
 "Mr. McClure was in the hut next door, and he 
 didn't dare trust himself in the sun till this afternoon, 
 shortly before you came. And if he had known that 
 Clavering was so near he would have shot him on 
 sight. He's said so a hundred times. But fortu 
 nately he couldn't see to shoot anything, and when I 
 told him this afternoon who was responsible for all 
 the mercies we had received, he was terribly angry and 
 shot holes in a coconut just to try his aim. You can 
 go out and look at the coconut, if you like." 
 
 A pause. Maybrick stroked his chin and did his 
 best to look official. He was a capable and efficient 
 officer who had heaped credit uoon himself in the 
 Sudan and India. 
 
 But Miss Severoid was well she wasn't a howling 
 dervish nor yet a greasy Pathan. 
 
 "Umph ! I suppose that was the shooting I heard. 
 And when did Clavering leave ?" 
 
 "This morning early," Miss Severoid lied readily. 
 "He said he'd probably see me again in Mayona, but 
 I hope he isn't going to annoy me. He gives me the 
 creeps." 
 
 And instantly Maybrick gobbled at the bait hook 
 and altogether. Miss Severoid's innocent blue eyes 
 looked up at him dreamily and waited a little while so 
 that he could take a proper hold, then she continued 
 as though the lieutenant's anxiety to stifle the eager
 
 CONQUEST OF THE GOVERNMENT 199 
 
 questions he wished to put to her was not written in 
 every line of his face. 
 
 "Mr. McClure knew that you thought he had bribed 
 Mora with all that powder and stuff, and got so ter 
 ribly angry I thought he would surely shoot you. 
 He's awfully sensitive about his honor; and you'd be 
 angry, too, if any one accused you of a thing like that. 
 I know you would, because you have such a strong 
 face. It's so so oh, I can't describe faces very 
 well, but I seem to sense purpose in a man !" 
 
 Maybrick colored a little and was confused. There 
 are few men who are not susceptible to cleverly admin 
 istered flattery, and Maybrick was not the exception. 
 
 But there was more genius in Miss Severoid's sim 
 ply told tale than appeared on the surface. 
 
 At the very first mention of Claveringfs name 
 before the higher authorities and red-tape had had an 
 opportunity to make things unpleasant for McClure 
 the charge against the trader was dismissed ere it had 
 been made. 
 
 Instantly Maybrick's mind swept in pursuit of Clav- 
 ering just as Miss Severoid intended that it should 
 and as he toyed with McClure's revolver he almost 
 forgot the trader in the much larger prospect of cap 
 turing Clavering by the judicious use of the beauti 
 ful Miss Severoid as an innocent "stool-pigeon." 
 
 He was blissfully unconscious of the fact that Miss 
 Severoid had created those intentions for him so that 
 he would not be so very anxious to go back to Saloko. 
 
 "You er you mentioned Chief Cralla, I think," 
 he said, breaking a short pause. "You mean the chief 
 of Akerri, I suppose. What was his particular serv 
 ice?" 
 
 "Oh, he was just showing us the way and his boys 
 were the carriers! I haven't seen him since he de 
 serted us in the rain-storm. But I imagine it was be-
 
 200 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 cause Clavering was here that he stayed away so long." 
 
 She smiled knowingly, and Maybrick tried to look 
 as if he understood, but his mind was groping in a 
 gray-black darkness. Glancing lazily out of the win 
 dow to where Basanna's female population was hud 
 dled affrightedly together, he tried to gain a little time 
 to think. 
 
 Miss Severoid's face was calm and her innocence 
 was sublime. Picking her handkerchief out of her 
 lap she bit upon the corner of it like a child, pulling 
 upon it as if to learn which was the stronger her 
 teeth or the linen. 
 
 Maybrick looked around again. 
 
 "How do you know that Cralla is afraid of Claver 
 ing?" 
 
 "Well, everybody knows that he betrayed Clavering 
 at Saganna." 
 
 "Um yes I suppose he did! How did you get 
 him to agree " 
 
 Miss Severoid's smile interrupted him. 
 
 "If I told you that I'd tell you the whole story 
 which even Mr. McClure doesn't know. Please let 
 me be mysterious a little while longer. I like the sen 
 sation immensely!" 
 
 Maybrick laughed in spite of himself, but imme 
 diately tried to be serious again. 
 
 "Then I suppose it is useless to ask you why you are 
 going to Benin City ?" 
 
 "I'm afraid so." 
 
 "You are sure that what you are going for is 
 there?" 
 
 "I hope so. And please don't look so solemn. You 
 are much nicer when you smile." 
 
 Maybrick fidgeted and tried to oblige; but he 
 thought she was too pretty a woman to look at any man
 
 CONQUEST OF THE GOVERNMENT 201 
 
 as she was looking at him then. She made him feel 
 uncomfortably lacking in poise mental and physical 
 and he found himself being very sorry for her, par 
 ticularly when she rose and stood astonishingly near 
 to him as she tried to see what was going on outside. 
 
 Somewhere in the back of Maybrick's mind there 
 was a hazy thought for a company of Yorubas and the 
 sandy-haired McClure, but as Miss Severoid suddenly 
 swayed a little and glanced in soft appeal into his eyes, 
 he forgot about the Yorubas altogether in a frantic 
 effort to save her from falling. 
 
 With a frightened little gasp she accommodatingly 
 fell his way, and somehow, a little while later, her 
 head was pillowed on his shoulder and his arms were 
 tenderly about her, holding her upon her feet. 
 
 "I I oh please " she began and did not trouble 
 to go any further since Maybrick's arms tightened of 
 their own accord. 
 
 "It it's all right," he whispered assuringly, but 
 there was a rather queer, furtive look in his eyes and 
 he was breathing a little faster. "You are just a little 
 faint. Just that is don't be afraid. I'll " 
 
 He stopped there. 
 
 It was a long way from Basanna to London, where 
 Maybrick's wife at that moment sat writing to Lieu 
 tenant Jack Sylvester, on leave, asking him why he 
 had not called the previous evening ; a letter which con 
 cluded pitifully with "Your very own, lonely Mar 
 gery." 
 
 But perhaps Maybrick had telepathic communication 
 with London. 
 
 In any case he did something then that surprised 
 himself much more than it did Miss Severoid. 
 
 He bent his head very suddenly and kissed the tempt 
 ing, upturned lips that were so very near his own.
 
 202 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 They seemed to invite him to do so, and resistance to 
 the impulse was scarcely thought of till Miss Severoid, 
 struggling out of his embrace, thrust him from her in 
 gasping anger at the manner in which her faith in him 
 had been outraged. 
 
 It was capitally done. Maybrick felt and looked 
 like a cad, and as Miss Severoid gave him to under 
 stand that he was one, he did not dream that he had 
 been victimized, and placed in line with Clavering and 
 McClure so that he might be obedient instead of 
 obeyed. 
 
 Then, seeing that he felt his guilt keenly enough, 
 and having listened to his stammering apologies, Miss 
 Severoid reluctantly forgave him with a tantalizing 
 something in her manner that mothered and pitied him 
 and, at the same time, led him to hope that some day, 
 if he were very good, he might actually be allowed to 
 kiss her again. 
 
 Maybrick's expression was hopeful, yet sheepish. 
 The world without came back to him with a jar, and 
 he remembered very suddenly that he had a company 
 of Yorubas waiting for orders and a prisoner, of 
 whom he was a little jealous. 
 
 Then, too, he remembered Clavering and laughed 
 oddly. 
 
 "I don't suppose you have any objections to my 
 going as far as Mayona with you?" 
 
 Miss Severoid was looking out of the window, try 
 ing to get a glimpse of McClure in captivity. But her 
 vision was limited, and she saw only a few scared 
 Beni women and the disconsolate Plymouth, who did 
 not seem to know what to make of anything. 
 
 She faced Maybrick very deliberately. 
 
 "No. I have no objections. But the soldiers will 
 make my peaceful little expedition seem like a declara 
 tion of war. And that would never do. Still, if you
 
 CONQUEST OF THE GOVERNMENT 203 
 
 are going only as far as Mayona, I don't suppose it 
 would matter much." 
 
 Instead of being dictated to, Miss Severoid was dic 
 tating, and she appreciated the change hugely while 
 Maybrick, who had no intention of leaving all of his 
 Yorubas at Basanna, tried to look as if he were giving 
 her opinion serious thought. 
 
 "Well that is I think I'll take some of them as 
 far as Mayona," he concluded, and his glance became 
 apologetic again. "Just tell me again that you are 
 not terribly angry." 
 
 "I will be if you don't get one of your soldiers to 
 fetch some water so that I can make tea. And please 
 go out and ask Mr. McClure to join us. He doesn't 
 care much for tea, but I think you'd both like to make 
 up over a Scotch-and-soda. Pity we haven't any ice, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 And the teasing flash of humor in her eyes and the 
 tempting wonder of her smile made Maybrick feel that 
 the power of yea and nay had slipped out of his grasp. 
 
 Ere ten minutes had gone McClure was back in the 
 hut, still wondering, and with his revolver back in its 
 holster; Plymouth was serving drinks as if he were 
 glad of the opportunity, and Miss Severoid, beaming 
 in contentment over a cup of tea and some crackers 
 and marmalade, was distributing her smiles equally 
 between the soldier and the trader, making them each 
 feel that the other was there only on sufferance. 
 
 McClure asked no questions. Miss Severoid's meth 
 ods and magic were not new to him, and he accepted 
 her conquests as a matter of course, even when he 
 saw Maybrick despatch one of his Yorubas back to 
 Saloko with a note, and learned that the lieutenant, and 
 probably half of his men, were going with them, at 
 least as far as Mayona. 
 
 Maybrick's message to the D. C. at Saloko ran :
 
 204 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 BASANNA, 10th, 5.30 p. M. Have found the runaways. They've 
 been Mora's guests for four days. Miss S., who has been down 
 with malaria, is a friend of Clavering's, so you can imagine who 
 paid for Mora's hospitality. 
 
 McGure is quite tame and harmless. Been blind for several 
 days hippo-hide across the eyes, not liquor. The lady has him 
 eating out of her hand, and she has a wild idea about going to 
 Benin City for something mysterious the bones of Prester John, 
 probably. You have to see her to believe it all. 
 
 Think I can prevent her doing anything very foolish, and use 
 her to help me catch Mr. C. 
 
 Am starting for Mayona with her party, which includes Chief 
 Cralla, of Akerri an unknown quantity meantime. There is a 
 lot of contraband stuff in these parts, and I expect to have to 
 confiscate most of it, so perhaps you'd better send Forrester and 
 Dale with their companies in case there is a muss. 
 
 I think I'm going to have a hell of a time. 
 
 MAYBRICK. 
 
 And when Maybrick wrote that last sentence he 
 went nearer to the truth than he imagined.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE RETURN OF THE CHIEF 
 
 McCLURE did not believe that Clavering would like 
 the Yoruba addition to the party ; yet, when the fright 
 ened Basanna women were ordered to go out in search 
 of the fleeing carriers, with instructions to assure them 
 of their safety at the hands of the government, it was 
 remarkable how quickly the Jackries reappeared and 
 herded together in their accustomed places, quite as 
 if nothing whatever had happened. 
 
 Ilora was the first to return. The others trooped 
 after her in twos and threes like sheep, and she 
 counted them and their packs as they came in. Then, 
 when the roster was complete, she shuffled, with that 
 inimitably indifferent gait of which she was so guilty, 
 to her post as Miss Severoid's maid. She almost in 
 stantly attracted the attention of Lieutenant Maybrick, 
 who, leisurely sipping his second Scotch-and-soda, 
 chatted a little more easily with his hostess, and tried 
 to reestablish himself as an officer and a gentleman. 
 
 McClure had gone out to see that none of the pro 
 vision packs had been tampered with. He was rather 
 indolently contemplating the greasy mob of Benis that 
 came scattering back from hiding to cower like 
 whipped dogs from the idling Yorubas. They paid no 
 attention to them, but munched silently upon their 
 rations of ship's biscuits and salt beef. 
 
 Chief Mora was not among those who came back. 
 No one expected him to while the soldiers were there. 
 
 205
 
 206 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 But in any case he never did. 
 
 And to anticipate a little, his body was found the 
 following day in the underbrush not more than two 
 miles south of the village, and it was evident from the 
 condition of the skull that death had been instanta 
 neous; wherein Mora had received more mercy than 
 he had often given. 
 
 No one knew who was responsible for it ; but it was 
 a generally accepted fact that Clavering rarely allowed 
 a fallen chief the opportunity of throwing himself 
 upon the mercy of the government. 
 
 And though McClure did not think of it at the time, 
 he saw a small, dark red spot like blood upon the 
 sleeve of Chief Cralla's white coat when, just as the 
 shroud of night was swiftly enveloping the earth, the 
 wily Jackrie gentleman came with labored majesty 
 into Basanna from the north the direction of the 
 Mayona road. 
 
 His pace was much slower than usual, and he looked 
 as though he had been drinking. Yet, though his feet 
 were dusty, his apparel was quite as scrupulously exact 
 as ever. 
 
 The presence of the Yorubas apparently surprised 
 him, but McClure's palm-leaf eye-shade frightened him 
 still more, and as the trader approached him, Cralla's 
 arms rose shrinkingly in a pitiful attitude of defense. 
 
 It was then that McClure saw the little red spot 
 like blood. 
 
 The chief appeared to be very much disturbed about 
 v/hat every one round about thought of his situation, 
 and it was noticeable that though the Yorubas deigned 
 to observe and enjoy his undignified predicament, not 
 a single Jackrie or Beni dared to be even interested in 
 it. 
 
 But McClure did not menace the chief in any way, 
 principally because the time and place were not pro-
 
 THE RETURN OF THE CHIEF 207 
 
 pitious. Later, if they both lived, it would be dif 
 ferent. 
 
 "Well, chief, what's the trouble? I think you live 
 for Mayona?" 
 
 Cralla lowered his arms doubtfully. 
 
 "Be so, Mas' MaClu', I come from dere. I say to 
 myse'f, if Mas' MaClu' flog me, what I can do? If 
 he make shoot palaver foh me !" Cralla shrugged his 
 shoulders hopelessly and resignedly. "Be all same 
 which place I die so I come look you to see what 
 palaver you make foh me. Then I fit to sleep." 
 
 In other words, Cralla wished McClure to under 
 stand that he had become so nervous about his fate at 
 the trader's hands that he could not sleep, and had 
 come from Mayona determined to settle the matter 
 one way or another. 
 
 "You' eye hurt plenty too much?" he queried 
 anxiously. 
 
 McClure made no answer. He did not think much 
 of Cralla' s repentance, and did not believe that he had 
 come from Mayona to apologize and take his medicine. 
 
 But that did not bother the chief very much. A 
 Jackrie does not care particularly whether he is be 
 lieved or not so long as the excuse he offers serves the 
 purpose of saving his skin. 
 
 "Mayona no good?" McClure asked pointedly as 
 he led the way toward Miss Severoid's hut. 
 
 "Mayona fine!" Cralla protested at once. "I come 
 from dere." 
 
 McClure grunted, and without another word entered 
 Miss Severoid's hut, where two small kerosene lamps 
 flickered and cast black shadows. 
 
 Cralla followed. 
 
 Maybrick wheeled in his chair so sharply that it 
 almost collapsed, and Miss Severoid, starting up in 
 surprise, smothered an exclamation and sat slowly
 
 208 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 down again, folding her hands with nervous tightness 
 in her lap. 
 
 Ilora, busying herself with the preparation of a 
 canned-food dinner, showed the whites of her eyes 
 for a second, then slipped into the shadows as if afraid 
 she might be too conspicuous. 
 
 "Cralla's come to make his peace with me," McClure 
 announced. "Says he can't sleep until he does. The 
 charge against him is that of whacking me over the 
 eyes with a hippo-hide. And he pleads guilty. 
 What'll we do to him, Maybrick?" 
 
 "Is that official or just personal?" the lieutenant 
 asked, looking Cralla over very carefully. 
 
 "Oh, just personal !" 
 
 "Then I would suggest, under the circumstances, 
 that you nurse your wrath to keep it warm. Later 
 you might hang him up by the toes and keep him spin 
 ning round while you larruped the soles of his feet; 
 or, better still, tie his head between his knees and 
 suspend him over a slow fire. Neither would be ade 
 quate, but they'd help. What does Miss Severoid 
 think?" 
 
 Miss Severoid scarcely heard. She was not listen 
 ing to Maybrick. All her attention was centered upon 
 Cralla, who plainly avoided meeting her puzzled scru 
 tiny, and gave all his attention to Maybrick and Mc 
 Clure, fawning upon them and trying to look as though 
 he enjoyed being there. 
 
 Miss Severoid met Maybrick's inquiry with an apolo 
 getic smile. 
 
 "I'm afraid I wasn't listening. What did you say?" 
 
 "It's too bloodthirsty to repeat, but we've decided 
 that Cralla is to have another chance for the present." 
 Then to Cralla : "Palaver set, chief. Squattez vous* 
 Have a drink?"
 
 THE RETURN OF THE CHIEF 209 
 
 Cralla grinned and sat down upon a mat, folding his 
 legs under him like the blades of a pocket-knife; and 
 McClure, calling Plymouth, ordered him to serve more 
 drinks. 
 
 Outside the night was black as ink. The low, mur 
 muring whine of Mora's children, huddling affright- 
 edly together in their squalor, mingled with the drone 
 of the Yorubas who were gathered about the small fire 
 they had built for cooking purposes. 
 
 The atmosphere in the hut was suffocatingly humid. 
 Glancing into Maybrick's , face inquiringly, to gain a 
 hint of his intentions, Miss Severoid was a little afraid 
 that his Scotch-and-soda had been too much Scotch. 
 There was an uneasy recklessness in his eyes that was 
 disturbing, particularly in view of the story she had 
 told him. 
 
 Seated upon an upturned packing-case, McClure said 
 nothing. He just stroked his mustache, drank slowly, 
 and watched. 
 
 Cralla took his whisky neat and at a gulp. 
 
 "Be good," he declared, reluctantly lowering his 
 glass. "Jackrie man like um too much." 
 
 Maybrick grinned in approval. 
 
 "And you be big man in Jackrie country, no be so?" 
 
 "Eh heh!" Cralla agreed emphatically. "I be 
 chief of Akerri. You savvy Akerri ?" 
 
 "I savvy. All men savvy Akerri. Chief Cralla live 
 dere." Cralla and the lieutenant grinned with one 
 accord. "And I savvy Chief Cralla be proper man. 
 He be proper friend foh the gov'ment, too, no be 
 so?" 
 
 "Be so ! I be frien' foh gov'ment all the time. I. be 
 frien' of Nige' Comp'ny and I be frien' of Englan' 
 man. I savvy gov'ment palaver too much. When 
 black man make palaver foh gov'ment black man die,
 
 210 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 dat's all. I no wanta die. When I die! Ee-yaw! 
 Yella! Yella! Yella!" 
 
 Cralla took his head in his hands and shook it dole 
 fully, moaning and making noises with his tongue like 
 a clucking hen. Miss Severoid, watching him very 
 intently, clasped her hands the tighter in her lap for 
 fear she would applaud. She knew good acting when 
 she saw it. 
 
 "Good!" Maybrick approved. "Gov'ment savvy 
 Chief Cralla be fine man. Have another drink. Boy, 
 bring Chief Cralla another drink. It's not my whisky, 
 so it doesn't matter." 
 
 He laughed toward McClure, who smiled and nod 
 ded to Plymouth. 
 
 Cralla accepted the invitation readily enough, dis 
 posed of the second drink as he had done the first, then 
 looked to Maybrick for the reason for it all. 
 
 He learned it quickly enough. 
 
 "If I take Yoruba man to Mayona palaver live?" 
 
 Cralla shrugged his shoulders indifferently. 
 
 "I no savvy. Chief Tomi of Mayona be my frien'. 
 Some time my frien' be fool, and I t'ink he be wise 
 man. If Chief Tomi be fool, be my palaver? Whatta 
 matter you take Yoruba man to Mayona?" 
 
 Maybrick explained that he had no particular object 
 in view in taking the Yorubas to Mayona; that he 
 merely wished to give Miss Severoid a safe escort, 
 and that he was anxious to learn before allowing her 
 to go any farther what was likely to be the temper of 
 the country in the north, particularly after the fall of 
 Mora. 
 
 Which was a plausible explanation enough, but 
 which had no bearing on Maybrick's real intentions. 
 
 Cralla pondered the matter for a little while, and 
 then delivered himself of the opinion that, though he
 
 THE RETURN OF THE CHIEF 211 
 
 did not believe there would be any hostility, the sight 
 of the Yorubas would be sure to indicate warlike inten 
 tions upon the part of the government. Chief Tomi 
 was a belligerent individual who had to be handled 
 with gloves. 
 
 Maybrick knew that, and it is not an officer's duty 
 to make trouble, but to avoid it. This was why he was 
 feeling out the ground carefully, with an unhappy sus 
 picion that Cralla was not the friend of the govern 
 ment he professed to be. 
 
 But Clavering was in the north had said he would 
 meet Miss Severoid again at Mayona and that was 
 a promise too tempting to resist. Dale and Forrester 
 with their companies could not possibly be up earlier 
 than a day and a half, and, as Maybrick expressed it to 
 himself, "a deuce of a lot can happen in that time." 
 
 He might actually be safer and possibly surer of 
 success if he did leave the Yorubas behind at Bassana, 
 where they could wait for the Dale and Forrester con 
 tingent and come forward to Mayona in a short night 
 march whenever he, Maybrick, said he was ready for 
 them. 
 
 It was a dangerous expedient, and there was nothing 
 very definite about its possibilities ; but it had the vir 
 tue of being less demonstrative and less suspicious than 
 any other of which the Lieutenant could think just 
 then. He was also reasonably convinced of the fact 
 that the man who caught Clavering in a net would 
 have to go about the business very quietly indeed. 
 
 "All right, Cralla. I savvy you be frien' foh gov'- 
 ment, so we'll leave the Yoruba man at Basanna. I'll 
 come and say chin-chin to Chief Tomi myself. Be all 
 right?" 
 
 Cralla nodded sagely, and McClure and Miss Sever 
 oid exchanged disapproving glances as the chief ac-
 
 212 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 cepted his third drink. Almost immediately he became 
 loquacious and somewhat confused, even to mingling 
 Jackrie with his pidgin English. 
 
 The sum of his remarks was nothing, though May- 
 brick waited patiently and plied him hopefully with a. 
 fourth drink. This only succeeded in making Cralla 
 descend to the Sobo and Ejau jargons. 
 
 Maybrick and McClure both knew a little Jackrie, 
 and the trader knew enough Sobo to do business with 
 it; but the Ejau tongue was a closed book to him. 
 When Cralla's head began to roll and a stream of 
 harsh Ejau gutturals poured forth it was doubtful 
 whether he was blessing or cursing them. 
 
 It sounded like a malediction. Ejau always does. 
 
 But Ilora, preparing an improvised table of deal 
 boards slung across two packing-cases, knew what he 
 meant and, even as she worked, caught every word 
 of it. 
 
 "Send runner to Chief Tomi and tell him govern 
 ment man comes to say chin-chin. He comes alone. 
 Mora was a fool and is dead. Tomi, take warning. 
 If Tomi is quiet, Tomi will live a long time. If he is 
 a fool, like government man, both will die quickly. 
 When the white mammy's purpose has been served 
 then may Tomi fight and hurl the white man into the 
 pit." 
 
 Cralla's chin fell slowly on to his breast, and his 
 voice trailed away into frothy, unintelligible mutter- 
 ings that finally ceased altogether. 
 
 And as Ilora, whose comings and goings from the 
 hut had been frequent and necessary, slipped out into 
 the night and sent the message word for word as she 
 had received it, Maybrick, with a halting apology to 
 Miss Severoid, went to the door of the hut and, call 
 ing his two orderlies, ordered them to "take this 
 drunken beast out."
 
 THE RETURN OF THE CHIEF 213 
 
 Which they did, and by no means gently, dumping 
 the limp and apparently whisky-numbed chief into the 
 midst of his carriers like a sack of yams. 
 
 But Cralla had one eye open, and he had a good 
 memory for faces.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE PLOT 
 
 MAYBRICK took his two orderlies with him to May- 
 ona. They were the Yorubas who had treated Cralla 
 like a sack of yams, and Cralla knew it. 
 
 But neither Cralla nor McClure knew anything 
 about the two companies of Yorubas that were coming 
 on from Saloko to join Maybrick's company at Ba- 
 sanna and make a night march to Mayona when neces 
 sary, it being Maybrick's intention to delay Miss Sev- 
 eroid's expedition at Mayona upon one pretext and 
 another until he had discovered Clavering's where 
 abouts and was in a position to act with decision in 
 the matter. 
 
 And, whether Clavering were caught or not, Miss 
 Severoid's expedition was not to go any farther than 
 Mayona. Benin City had no place in Maybrick's 
 plans. 
 
 Of the march to Mayona there is little to record. 
 The start was delayed by a two-hour thunder-plump, 
 and when they finally got under way everybody was 
 sweltering and swearing except Miss Severoid, who 
 had not been long enough in the country. 
 
 Then, when they had gone several miles and were 
 sticky and miserable and gasping for something to 
 drink, one of the carriers inconsiderately contracted 
 blackwater fever, and his brethren threatened to desert 
 like scared rats. 
 
 But Cralla held them in check and made them dig 
 214
 
 THE PLOT 215 
 
 a shallow, marshy hole with their machetes. The 
 grave was ready half an hour before the victim died. 
 
 In spite of the curse of prickly heat that made him 
 want to revert to the costume of Adam, Maybrick did 
 his best to assure Miss Severoid that the few hours' 
 delay meant nothing at all. But McClure, still wear 
 ing his eye-shade, stood heavily by and said very little. 
 Usually when black water came among a body of na 
 tives it was epidemic, because it was engendered by 
 the indiscriminate drinking of swamp-water. The 
 time was near when the trader had been in the habit 
 of watching his breakwater in the mornings to learn 
 who was missing; when the bush paths became a 
 graveyard for those who lay where they fell, and when 
 the wailing dirge of the women who mourned came 
 across the water almost every hour for days weeks 
 sometimes till the Grim Reaper seemed to grow tired 
 of the sound and took his scythe elsewhere. 
 
 However, Mayona was reached early in the after 
 noon without further casualties, though the knees of 
 most of the carriers were bent shakingly forward. 
 When Cralla had herded them into Chief Tomi's com 
 pound at the end of a coiling hippo-thong they col 
 lapsed, whining and shivering away from each other, 
 every man watching his neighbor for the dread sign of 
 the death that had come among them. 
 
 The hammock bearers, led by Ilora, carried Miss 
 Severoid around to a hut immediately behind Chief 
 Tomi's mud palace. As McClure and Plymouth fol 
 lowed, Maybrick and Cralla halted to bestow a search 
 ing glance upon the fear-stricken carriers and to hold 
 a peace palaver with the lynx-eyed Tomi, who waddled 
 out to bid them an oily welcome in the gala attire of 
 a two-piece print-cloth and a cheaper gray shirt. 
 
 Not that TOHII could not afford better clothing, but, 
 like Uriah Heep, he preferred to be " 'umble." He
 
 216 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 had acquired much surplus fat in an otiose life that had 
 led him, with scarcely any trouble at all, through rivers 
 of other men's blood. And he had enjoyed himself 
 immensely. He bubbled over with good humor, and 
 the more he bubbled the more devilish he became. 
 
 As he greeted Maybrick with an unctuous grin and 
 offered his hand white-man fashion, to show that he 
 was a friend of the government, he was apparently 
 very happy to meet the lieutenant and his two Yoru- 
 bas. 
 
 But, then, Yorubas are such splendid sport when 
 there are but two of them and those two are unarmed. 
 One can use them as targets when one wants to prac 
 tise with the white man's weapons, shooting low, of 
 course, so as not fatally to injure the little brown men. 
 They can afterward be crucified for the delectation of 
 the masses, it being definitely understood that the Beni 
 masses will be sure to like anything a Yoruba doesn't. 
 
 And yet, in spite of Tomi's natural inclinations, the 
 evidence of Clavering's uncanny influence was again 
 apparent. There was but little curiosity upon the part 
 of Mayona's greasy population, and no sign of hos 
 tility. 
 
 Stuffy and filthy and noxious, and quiet as a Sunday 
 afternoon at home, Mayona was just a slightly larger 
 repetition of Basanna. After Maybrick had delivered 
 a message which had supposedly come direct from the 
 Great White Queen to Chief Tomi of Mayona, the 
 lieutenant sauntered toward Miss Severoid's quarters, 
 conscious of the fact that if he cared to search Chief 
 Tomi's dwelling he could unearth sufficient proof of 
 the chief's affiliation with Clavering to warrant an 
 execution without the bother of a trial. 
 
 But Maybrick did not care whether he caught Tomi 
 napping or not. He was hunting bigger game. 
 
 Cralla and Tomi watched his idling gait till he dis-
 
 THE PLOT 217 
 
 appeared behind the latter chief's hut with the Yoru- 
 bas trailing him as a matter of course. 
 
 Then Tomi whispered in Beni : 
 
 "Is he a fool that he comes to mock me with but two 
 of the accursed ?" 
 
 "Two throats are quicker cut than a hundred." 
 Cralla returned dryly in the same jargon. "But not 
 now. When the white mammy's purpose has been 
 served that was my message. Is Tomi a fool or a 
 friend?" 
 
 Tomi's good humor vanished at once, and he be 
 came very unhappy because it was decreed that two 
 perfectly good Yorubas were to slip through his fin 
 gers. Therefore, he sniveled and, figuratively at least, 
 groveled at Cralla's feet as the chief of Akerri led the 
 way toward the hut of his host. 
 
 In Miss Severoid's quarters, which were again 
 marked by Clavering's consideration for the more gen 
 tle needs of a lady, Maybrick found McClure assuring 
 her that he did not think that the blackwater among 
 the carriers would become epidemic. 
 
 "I don't think it will, either," the lieutenant chimed 
 in, supporting the lie amiably enough. "But I think 
 we'd better wait a day or two so that we can be sure 
 of it before we go any farther. You'd be in a deuce 
 of a fix if a few of them went under between this 
 place and Tulami, because the rest would bolt and 
 Cralla would not be able to bring them back this time. 
 They'd say your expedition was a juju. Let's wait a 
 couple of days anyway, and see what happens." 
 
 In which advice there was much subtle wisdom. It 
 was not only practical and considerate, but it princi 
 pally served Maybrick's purpose to encourage delay. 
 
 McClure nodded thoughtfully, partly because he be 
 lieved there was some merit in the lieutenant's propo 
 sal, and greatly because he had not given up hope that
 
 218 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Miss Severoid would come to her senses in time. But 
 Miss Severoid, to whom delays were as knife-thrusts, 
 did not appreciate the threat of another. As at all 
 times when things showed a tendency to go wrong, 
 she instantly wished she could talk to Clavering and 
 ask his advice. 
 
 Furthermore, she wished to warn him that Maybrick 
 knew of the possibility of his being in Mayona. 
 
 Consequently, immediately after the usual canned- 
 food dinner, at which McClure tried to take a large 
 view of life while Maybrick was forcing himself to be 
 amusing, she became very sleepy and told the gentle 
 men that she thought she would retire. The moment 
 she was alone she scribbled upon a scrap of white 
 wrapping paper : 
 
 I'd like to talk to you, if I could, but I told Lieutenant May- 
 brick about your being so good to me at Basanna. That's why 
 he didn't take us all back to Saloko. So please be very careful. 
 
 He says we can't go on for a few days because some of the 
 carriers may die. Please help me to get away from him. He's 
 doing his best not to make love to me, but that won't last, and I 
 can't be mean to him without offending the government. 
 
 Which was not altogether fair to Maybrick, who had 
 striven to be entertaining at dinner so that she might 
 not guess that two more carriers were hastening to 
 ward a scooped-out grave as fast as blackwater fever 
 would carry them. 
 
 A few of the others had fled, showing their teeth and 
 the whites of their eyes in the grip of a terror which 
 nothing could subdue ; and they would keep on and on 
 till they dropped from sheer exhaustion, or until the 
 death they were fleeing from overtook them and pulled 
 them down, writhing, in their tracks. 
 
 As Miss Severoid folded the note and gave it to 
 Ilora, with cautious instructions to deliver it to Cralla 
 and thence to Clavering, both Maybrick and McClure
 
 THE PLOT 219 
 
 were groping their way toward Tomi's compound in 
 search of later information regarding the carriers. 
 
 One of the Yorubas preceded them with a hurricane 
 lantern; the other, with a purpose in view, assisted 
 Plymouth in standing guard before the door of Miss 
 Severoid's hut. 
 
 But Ilora paid no heed to them as, sullen and obe 
 dient, she slipped out to deliver the note to Clavering 
 by way of Cralla. When she returned, barely half an 
 hour later, bearing a neatly folded reply, Miss Sever- 
 oid, who had been listening in chilly solitude and deso 
 lation to the eery meanings of the carriers, sprang up 
 to meet the Jackrie girl with a demonstration of wel 
 come that was not far from hysteria. 
 
 Her nerves were approaching that ragged stage 
 when little things become colossal and big things are 
 too large to be understood; and the speed with which 
 Ilora had returned was an incomprehensible mystery. 
 
 She made no effort to account for Clavering's near 
 ness. Carrying his answer hastily to the feeble light 
 of her lamp, she discovered that there were two mes 
 sages, both of which she devoured greedily. 
 
 The first read : 
 
 DEAR Miss SEVEROID : 
 
 Let Ilora bring you to a place she knows as soon as you are 
 able to get away from the others. Don't be afraid, and don't 
 hesitate, because I can't wait very long. It is imperative that you 
 see me, else I would not bother you. 
 
 CLAVERING. 
 
 And the other : 
 
 Show Maybrick the other note and say to him that you were 
 afraid to meet me and yet afraid to refuse. He'll be sure to 
 help you. No harm will come to him. G. C. 
 
 They were not very quieting replies, inasmuch as 
 they suggested treachery so deliberately that Miss Sev-
 
 220 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 eroid shrank from the part she was asked to play. 
 But Benin City and the realization of her hopes were 
 so near that the sensation of squeamishness was soon 
 lost in her feverish desire to go on, driving through 
 every obstacle to her goal. 
 
 And she had already climbed several erstwhile im 
 passable barriers in traveling from London to Mayona. 
 
 As she absently tore Clavering's second note into 
 very small pieces, the expression upon her face de 
 clared that her thoughts were not upon the writer, but 
 that they had drifted out into the opaque darkness, 
 and were centered upon something that made her eyes 
 more luminous than ever and her lips a soft, quiver 
 ing temptation that even a misanthrope could not have 
 resisted. 
 
 Then, suddenly awakening from these idle dreams, 
 she hastily scribbled another note to Maybrick this 
 time. 
 
 LIEUTENANT MAYBWCK: 
 
 Please come and see me at once. I have something very im 
 portant to tell you. But don't bring Mr. McClure. 
 
 Miss S. 
 
 When Ilora, sneering evilly under cover of the dark 
 ness, slipped that very small scrap of paper into May- 
 brick's hand, he started and spun round on his heel like 
 a top. But the girl, per instructions, had been careful 
 to wait until McClure had directed his attention to a 
 groaning carrier who was suffering under the posses 
 sion of an active imagination. 
 
 "Sof'ly," she whispered cautiously, and slipped 
 noiselessly away again. The lieutenant, suppressing 
 an exclamation and an impulse to ask questions, speed 
 ily adjusted his mind to the situation, and at once 
 found an opportunity to read Miss Severoid's message. 
 It surprised and puzzled him still more.
 
 THE PLOT 221 
 
 Then, as he glanced guiltily in McClure's direction, 
 the rotund figure of Chief Tomi came out of the murk 
 and halted at McClure's side. The chief remained 
 jabbering to McClure in a mixture of Beni and pidgin- 
 English, evidently intent upon helping him to keep the 
 panic from spreading beyond the ranks of the carriers. 
 There was no sign of Cralla. 
 
 Had Maybrick known that Tomi was occupying 
 McClure's attention for a purpose and a price, the 
 lieutenant would undoubtedly have hesitated a little 
 longer than he did. As it was, he hesitated barely a 
 minute, and in a very few more he was standing before 
 Miss Severoid in her ill-lit, shadow-filled hut, expect 
 antly waiting for her to speak. 
 
 Ilora had remained outside and was regarding May- 
 brick's Yorubas with sullen resentment because they 
 ignored her and talked in a language she did not 
 understand. Squatting upon a mat upon the other 
 side of the door and puffing laboriously upon a cheap 
 and squeaky pipe filled with cheaper hogshead tobacco, 
 Plymouth ogled up at her through the smoke, only to 
 be served by the girl as she was served by the Yorubas. 
 
 "He wants me to meet him," Miss Severoid began 
 timidly, looking innocently up into Maybrick's troubled 
 face; "and I'm afraid to. But I thought perhaps 
 you'd" 
 
 "You mean" 
 
 "Sh!" 
 
 They both looked about them furtively, and then 
 Maybrick's glance met Miss Severoid's in perfect un 
 derstanding. At least he thought so, and he felt a 
 little ashamed of himself for having left one of his 
 Yorubas at her door to spy upon her. 
 
 "McClure's so hasty," she whispered hurriedly. 
 "He'd be sure to shoot, and there mustn't be any of 
 that unless it's desperately necessary. I don't know
 
 222 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 what he can possibly want to see me for, but but it 
 may be something important, and he was so good tQ 
 me at Basanna that I'd feel mean if I refused to go. 
 Of course, I know I shouldn't meet him. That's com 
 pounding a felony or something, isn't it ? And that's 
 why I'm telling you about it first to see if you'd allow 
 it. Couldn't you follow me at a safe distance and 
 and just sort of take care of me without oh, well I 
 don't want him arrested yet, because he may be use 
 ful." 
 
 Maybrick's lips twitched and broke in a friendly 
 smile. Just then he admired Miss Severoid more than 
 he ever had, partly because of the temptingly racy little 
 twinkle in her eyes, but greatly because she had sense 
 enough and courage enough to appreciate that a man 
 like Clavering could be very useful upon such a ven 
 ture as that upon which she was bent. He also experi 
 enced a pleasant thrill in the thought that she had con 
 fided in him in preference to McClure. 
 
 But he had not the least intention of allowing Clav 
 ering to be at liberty one minute longer than was 
 necessary, feeling sure that, whether Miss Severoid 
 thought so or not, he would be doing her a great kind 
 ness by putting an end to the Benin City tomfoolery 
 as quickly as possible. 
 
 He did not tell her so, however. 
 
 "When have you to meet him?" he asked in a low 
 monotone. 
 
 "Now at once." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "I don't know. My girl does. That is what makes 
 it so suspicious." 
 
 Miss Severoid always tried to mingle the truth and 
 prevarication, so that the lie would agree with what 
 the other person was likely to think of the truth. 
 
 Maybrick's lips drew a little tighter. He was try-
 
 THE PLOT 223 
 
 ing to be official and to study Miss Severoid's eyes and 
 lips at the same time, with most uncertain results. 
 
 "I see," he said quietly, and then tried to calm her 
 fears. "But that isn't anything very suspicious. He 
 has friends among the natives everywhere. That girl 
 of yours is simply doing as she's told. She may never 
 have seen him before and may never see him again. 
 Cralla would do the same thing. Any of them would, 
 and we know it. It's a pity, though, that you sent her 
 to me with that note. She may " 
 
 He put his fingers to his lips, tiptoed to the door of 
 the hut, and, looking out, was apparently satisfied to 
 find that Ilora was still there. 
 
 Miss Severoid had to restrain an impulse to laugh 
 outright, and, as he came softly back again, she ac 
 tually felt sorry for him ; so much so that the sensation 
 of squeamishness came back to her. 
 
 "She's outside," Maybrick whispered. "If she 
 goes away from there, or has already been away even 
 for a minute, my orderlies will tell me. How did his 
 message come?" 
 
 Miss Severoid produced a crumpled note from her 
 blouse and, looking cautiously about her, slipped it into 
 Maybrick' s hand. 
 
 "Ilora brought it," she confessed. "And I've been 
 afraid of her ever since." 
 
 Maybrick accepted the note without a word, carried 
 it to the lamp and read and reread it, feeling quite sure 
 that Miss Severoid must think a great deal of him to 
 confide in him so much. 
 
 Then slowly tearing it up, he moved to her side 
 again and looked down upon her with the eye of a man 
 who is seeking after truth. 
 
 His official attitude had entirely given way to the 
 other one. 
 
 "You can trust me to take care of you ?" he asked
 
 224 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 softly, by way of experiment. "Better than Mc- 
 Clure?" 
 
 And he found that her eyes would not meet his. 
 Her lashes swept her cheeks and her head was bowed 
 a little. Vague murmurings and meanings came from 
 without, but Maybrick scarcely heard them. 
 
 "You know I do," he heard her whisper. He did 
 not know that, in spite of the seriousness of everything, 
 she was praying to Heaven to save her from laughter. 
 
 There was a short, uncomfortable pause. 
 
 Maybrick did not know what to do or say. He 
 moistened his lips, squared his shoulders, fidgeted with 
 the butt of his revolver, and laughed a forced, nerv 
 ous sound that was rather stupid. 
 
 "Good little woman," he mumbled, and his fingers 
 touched her arms. She could feel them tremble and 
 tighten; the uncertain fingers of one who was about to 
 make a grievous mistake. "Good little wo " 
 
 "Don't!" 
 
 The word was low and imperative, and as Miss Sev- 
 eroid's head came up slowly, Maybrick caught the look 
 in her eyes and understood perfectly. He tried to 
 smile and the effect was ghastly. 
 
 "Oh er well of course " He backed away a 
 step or two, very ill at ease. "You that is I'll fol 
 low you bring my orderlies nothing to be afraid of. 
 I er that is oh, damn! Don't look at me like 
 that!" 
 
 But Miss Severoid only laughed, and the look that 
 had bared Maybrick's guilty soul laughed, too, in an 
 enigmatical sort of way that made him feel decidedly 
 more foolish. 
 
 "That's better," she told him in a very soft voice. 
 "I like to hear a man swear sometimes. Now, please 
 go. We haven't any more time to lose." 
 
 And Maybrick, mumbling an incoherent apology,
 
 THE PLOT 225 
 
 went srteepishly, feeling somewhat dazed and mystified, 
 and having a sensation that he was lucky to be let down 
 so lightly. 
 
 A few minutes later Miss Severoid, a little white 
 about the corners of the mouth, blew out her lamp, 
 and climbing through the low window-hole facing the 
 rear so that Plymouth might not have a tale to carry 
 to his master she tiptoed after Ilora, past darkened 
 huts and the sleeping forms of natives lying outside 
 their doors into a bush-path that led, so far as Miss 
 Severoid knew, into an impenetrable blackness, and 
 nothing more. 
 
 Maybrick and his orderlies followed at a careful 
 distance.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 METHOD IN HIS MADNESS 
 
 IN a square-built, single-roomed hut that stood alone 
 in the center of a small clearing about a mile and a 
 half from the village, Clavering sat in solitary state in 
 the comfortable depths of a collapsible deck-chair and 
 blew thin streams of cigarette smoke toward the 
 ceiling. 
 
 The hut was of medium size, and was just then 
 undecidedly illuminated by a large stand-lamp which 
 had been turned low and which stood very near to one 
 of the windows, throwing the greater part of the place 
 in deep shadows. There were native mats on the floor 
 and others that made shades for the windows, of which 
 there were two. The door was also similarly screened, 
 making the hut unbearably stuffy. 
 
 A small wicker table at Clavering's elbow and a light 
 Madeira chair completed the furnishings, since the 
 black, tarpaulin-covered carrier's pack that lay in 
 obscurity in the most shadowy corner of the room 
 could not be considered as furniture. 
 
 Clavering's attitude was one of dreamy idleness. 
 He appeared to be watching a dun-colored lizard on 
 the wall opposite as though there were nothing more 
 important to occupy his attention. To the buzz and 
 the whistle of numberless and nameless insects he paid 
 no heed, and the mosquitoes and sandflies bothered 
 him not at all. 
 
 He stirred only when an intruding mango-fly threat- 
 226
 
 METHOD IN HIS MADNESS 227 
 
 ened him, and having successfully swatted the pest, he 
 sat down again, a little annoyed at having been dis 
 turbed. 
 
 He was clothed, as Miss Severoid had first seen him, 
 in a light-blue shirt, riding-breeches, and puttees, and 
 his heavy walking boots hinted at the fact that he had 
 done some recent and considerable tramping. 
 
 He carried no revolver. His shirt sleeves were 
 rolled up to the elbows, displaying his sinewy brown 
 forearms, and though his face was even paler and 
 leaner than usual, there was a softer set to his thin- 
 lipped mouth as from the smothering gloom without 
 there came to his alert and sensitive ears the whisper 
 ing rustle of skirts. 
 
 Three faint streaks of light in the midst of nothing 
 ness was Miss Severoid's impression of the hut as she 
 emerged from the bush path in Ilora's wake and en 
 tered the clearing. There might have been a thousand 
 men in the bush around for all that she could see or 
 hear. 
 
 Maybrick and his two Yorubas did not follow her 
 into the clearing at once. They halted several yards 
 from the end of the bush path, and huddling closely 
 together, watched Miss Severoid and Ilora disappear 
 within the hut. Then, as the door-screen fell into 
 place behind them, Maybrick crouched, went on a few 
 steps, and as the outlines of the hut became clearer, 
 descended to his hands and knees. 
 
 The Yorubas followed suit. One of them crept 
 away toward the streak of light on the right, the other 
 to the left; each making for a window, and each, in 
 lieu of any other weapon, gripping the broad-bladed 
 wrist-knife of the upper Niger. 
 
 Maybrick's objective was the door. There was no 
 other outlet, and the lieutenant, judging that there was 
 no window on the farther side of the hut, had a hasty
 
 228 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 vision of taking Clavering captive and of leading him 
 and Miss Severoid and the black girl back to Basanna 
 without bothering to wait for daylight. 
 
 "McClure can wake up when he likes and fend for 
 himself," was his mental comment. "Hope Miss S. 
 doesn't make a scene. Hate like the dickens to go 
 back on her like this, but oh, rats ! she isn't what you 
 thought she was, so what's the use?" 
 
 And the lieutenant, feeling that these facts justified 
 anything, lay flat upon his stomach and crawled inch 
 by inch nearer to the door. 
 
 The moment Miss Severoid had entered, Clavering 
 had risen and, grinding his cigarette under his heel, 
 gave her a silent, smiling welcome and bowed her to 
 ward the Madeira chair. Ilora, going immediately 
 into the shadows beside the tarpaulin-covered pack, 
 huddled down on the mats like a sleek-coated puma. 
 She rested her cheek in the hollow of her arm and did 
 her best to give the impression that she had no interest 
 whatever in what was to follow. 
 
 "Don't be afraid," Clavering said quietly, glancing 
 into Miss Severoid's rather white face as he settled 
 himself easily in his chair. "And don't be alarmed at 
 anything that may happen. Has he really been dis 
 agreeable ?" 
 
 Miss Severoid tried to feel comfortable and to look 
 as if the place did not surprise her. 
 
 "N-no that is he's just a nuisance," she whis 
 pered, essaying a smile and leaning forward a little. 
 "Shall we have to wait till the carriers are " 
 
 "Not at all. We'll take the presumably sound and 
 fill up the gaps with Benis. There is only one more 
 stop Tulami and you'll reach there to-morrow at 
 sunset. You'll start for Benin City the same night, 
 an hour before midnight, and arrive about two in the 
 morning, so that you'll be back in Tulami again about
 
 METHOD IN HIS MADNESS 229 
 
 sunrise. You'll use the hammock, of course, and I've 
 no doubt that McClure can stand the slightly forced 
 marching." 
 
 The shadow of a smile came and went. 
 
 "The lieutenant is going back to Basanna to rejoin 
 his company. Nothing desperately bloodthirsty about 
 that, is there ?" 
 
 Miss Severoid looked doubtful. She was really 
 afraid to speak, not knowing how near Maybrick and 
 his Yorubas might be, and having no knowledge of 
 the nature of the trap into which she had led them, her 
 heart was beating at a suffocating rate and her ears 
 were straining to catch every sound. 
 
 But she heard nothing save the monotonous shrill 
 whistle of insects and the burring croak of frogs 
 sounds so incessant as to pass notice and become 
 merged into the silence. 
 
 Clavering watched her with a quiet, unobtrusive in 
 terest that gave no hint of the passionate desire he had 
 to carry her off to the ends of the earth, so that there 
 would be just he and she alone, forever and ever. 
 Whether young Debenham's existence disturbed him 
 or not, he was subconsciously descending to what he 
 had once ridiculed as "bookish sentimentality." 
 
 Therefore, being the manner of man he was, the 
 ultimate result promised to be much more startling 
 than Miss Severoid had bargained for. Just then, 
 however, he was calm; and he was listening, too. So 
 was Ilora, though she appeared to be half asleep. 
 "You feel much better, don't you?" 
 Miss Severoid started slightly. Clavering had made 
 no effort to modulate his voice, and it sounded like a 
 miniature thunderclap in the choking stillness. 
 
 "Yes thanks much better. I'll be all right 
 when wh " 
 
 It ended in a muffled little scream, and she started to
 
 230 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 her feet impulsively to throw herself between Clavering 
 and the door as the screen was suddenly whipped aside. 
 
 "Up with your hands, Clavering! Quick!" 
 
 Maybrick's sharp, grating voice was not in the least 
 like his own. Tight-lipped, and with his nerves strung 
 to breaking point as a result of the chance he had 
 taken a chance that proved he was no coward he 
 stood leveling his revolver at the bulk of Clavering' s 
 body, wondering why he was so slow upon the "draw." 
 
 But Clavering's hands shot into the air. There was 
 not a second's hesitation, and he actually appeared to 
 be terror-stricken. 
 
 Feeling very dizzy and uncertain of everything, Miss 
 Severoid looked stupidly from the outlaw to the lieu 
 tenant and back again, asking herself what on earth 
 had gone wrong with Clavering's plot. 
 
 "Stand aside, Miss Severoid, please!" Maybrick 
 rasped nervously. "Sorry can't help it. Where's 
 that black girl ? Ah there you are, eh ? Get up and 
 go over beside your mistress. Get a move on ! Don't 
 be so damned slow ! That's better. Orderly !" 
 
 The right window screen was swept aside and the 
 left was similarly treated a second later. Two khaki- 
 clad little men bounded into the room with their knives 
 glinting savagely in their hands. It was a fearsome, 
 blood-chilling spectacle, and Miss Severoid shut her 
 eyes upon the thing she thought was going to happen : 
 shut her eyes and tried to scream and could not. 
 
 Then she looked again, and saw that the Yorubas 
 had halted alx>ut half a foot upon each side of Claver 
 ing, acknowledging the admission of his surrender 
 indicated by his upraised arms. 
 
 Maybrick came a few steps nearer and Clavering 
 shrank from his approach. Miss Severoid had never 
 seen the outlaw look like that before; would not have 
 believed that he could.
 
 METHOD IN HIS MADNESS 231 
 
 Then Maybrick saw that his captive's holster was 
 empty; and some of the blood came back into his 
 face. 
 
 "Huh ! That's it, is it ? Thought there was some 
 thing wrong. I seem to have come along at the right 
 time. Don't interfere, Miss Severoid, and don't think 
 I'm a rotter. I have to do this. Got that piece of 
 rope, orderly?" 
 
 On the point of pleading with Maybrick to remem 
 ber his promise, Miss Severoid gulped down what she 
 might have said, and backing away until her chair 
 stopped her, she stood very still, watching the Yorubas 
 bind Clavering's wrists with a piece of stout rope 
 which one of them produced from his tunic. 
 
 Ilora stood near the window on the right beside the 
 lamp, with an air of nonchalant indifference. When 
 Maybrick ordered her sharply to "stand away from 
 there!" she obeyed without any hesitation whatever, 
 as if obedience to government officials was the most 
 natural thing in the world to her. 
 
 Maybrick looked about him carefully. 
 "No one else eh? All right. Any rope left, 
 orderly?" 
 
 "Li'l piece, sah," one of the Yorubas answered dis 
 passionately. 
 
 "Good. Tie the girl, too. I don't like her looks." 
 So they bound Ilora's wrists and arraigned her 
 alongside her master, while Miss Severoid, choking 
 and ready to shed copious tears of mortification and 
 hopelessness, sank into her chair, biting her ashen lips 
 to keep from crying out. 
 
 Then Maybrick was standing at her side, still keep 
 ing a cautious eye upon Clavering, who, up to that 
 point in the proceedings, had not uttered a sound or 
 made any resistance. In fact, he seemed to be afraid 
 to move ; and if the fear of death had never been writ-
 
 232 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 ten upon a human face before, it was most certainly 
 written in letters large and bold upon his then. 
 
 "I'm sorry," Maybrick apologized to Miss Severoid, 
 moistening his lips. "But orders are orders, and I'm 
 afraid we'll have to start back to Saloko without Mc- 
 Clure. You see, I can't very well go through Mayona 
 with his nibs, and I can't trust the black beauty as a 
 messenger. It's beastly awkward, I know but oh, 
 hang it, don't look like that! The bones of Prester 
 John or whatever it is you are going for, will keep 
 and well that is you can't go, that's all." 
 
 Miss Severoid got out of her chair an inch at a time, 
 fixing Maybrick with the hopeless, impotent stare of 
 one who is trying to meet a situation too large to be 
 comprehended. In fact, her mind was shrouded in a 
 stifling blackness, and was groping for just one little, 
 gray beam of understanding. 
 
 "Can't go !" she whispered. "Can't" 
 
 She stopped, and her glance shifted in a leaden sort 
 of way in Clavering's direction. He was facing the 
 door, and with Ilora slouching in- captivity beside him, 
 he appeared to have resigned himself to his fate. The 
 Yorubas stood at attention waiting for orders. 
 
 And then it came home to Miss Severoid that every 
 thing had somehow or other gone wrong ; that she was 
 to be taken back to Saloko, and that all that she had 
 planned and prayed and striven for with heart and 
 body and soul was being snatched out of her grasp 
 within sight of her goal by a smooth-shaven, weak- 
 mouthed man who spoke foolishly of the "bones of 
 Prester John" and held Clavering captive by reason 
 of a piece of forged steel and some lead. 
 
 So, without a thought for the consequences, and 
 uttering a queer little cry of anger and pain and des 
 peration, she threw herself madly at Maybrick, clutch 
 ing for his right hand ; and when she missed her mark
 
 METHOD IN HIS MADNESS 233 
 
 by a respectable foot because the lieutenant with an 
 involuntary oath swerved sharply and swept his arm 
 upward out of reach she floundered heavily to her 
 knees with a suddenness that made strange lights dance 
 before her eyes and emphatically proved the theory 
 that the world went round. 
 
 She had a vague understanding that Maybrick was 
 sputteringly reprimanding her and that the Yorubas 
 were to "take hold of them" meaning Clavering and 
 Ilora and then she felt the touch of the lieutenant's 
 hand upon her shoulder. 
 
 And at that moment, because Maybrick was not 
 looking in that direction, a long, black, snakelike arm 
 curved in through the window hole on the right 
 where the lamp was. 
 
 Followed the almost inaudible click of the lamp- 
 shutter and a sudden and terrible darkness. The lamp 
 had not been turned low for nothing. 
 
 "Damn" 
 
 The oath, harsh and unconfined, was Maybrick's. 
 
 He straightened sharply, swung about, and faced 
 his Maker in that second with the prayer of Ajax 
 upon his lips. 
 
 Miss Severoid did not move. She could not. Her 
 limbs were temporarily paralyzed, and there was an 
 eternity in every second of time as she waited, still on 
 her knees, for Heaven alone knew what] 
 
 Maybrick was afraid to shoot in Clavering's direc 
 tion for fear of hitting one of his orderlies, and he was 
 equally afraid to rush toward his prisoners lest he 
 might stumble over Miss Severoid, who knelt almost 
 at his feet. 
 
 And it all happened in a few seconds a ghostly, 
 soundless business, in which the Yoruba ejaculations 
 of surprise were suddenly and mysteriously silenced 
 with scarcely a hint of a struggle, and which ended, so
 
 234 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 far as Maybrick was concerned, when a naked arm 
 slid about his throat and something clammy, like a cold 
 and soapy sponge, was simultaneously clapped over his 
 mouth and nostrils. 
 
 He gasped, just once a deep inhalation of surprise 
 and his senses drifted out upon the pungent odor of 
 decayed Yaka roots. 
 
 A grunting Jackrie guttural signified the successful 
 conclusion of that strange attack, and as Maybrick 
 slipped out of his assailant's grasp like an ill-filled sack, 
 Miss Severoid felt his limp fingers brush her elbow 
 as he sprawled on his face at her side. 
 
 The touch made her shiver and give vent to a low 
 moan of fear and horror the first sound she had ut 
 tered since the light went out. 
 
 Hardly knowing what she did, she rose shudderingly 
 to her feet and groped dizzily in the direction in which 
 she thought the door ought to be. Then, as her trem 
 bling knees threatened to give way, a hand came out 
 of the opaque darkness and, gently gripping her arm, 
 led her swiftly out past indistinct shadows of things 
 that breathed like human beings which was all she 
 ever saw or heard of Clavering^s rescuers. 
 
 Something like a sob escaped her as a breath of 
 cooler air fanned her cheek. 
 
 "Sh !" Clavering soothed, leading her without pause 
 across the clearing, while Ilora followed, sullen as ever, 
 though free as her master. "Don't be afraid. There's 
 no harm done, unless you hurt yourself when you in 
 troduced that little melodramatic effect of your own. 
 And if friend Cralla's headman had not been so slow 
 in putting out the light that would not have happened. 
 When they were tying up Ilora would have been a 
 better time." 
 
 Miss Severoid heard through a fog. A black, fan-
 
 METHOD IN HIS MADNESS 235 
 
 tomlike figure passed her, then another, and so swiftly 
 did they merge into the darkness they seemed to vanish 
 into the ground. 
 
 Clinging to Clavering as though she feared that if 
 his support were withdrawn she would surely fall, and 
 still feeling the limp touch of Maybrick's ringers as 
 they had brushed her elbow she asked in an awed 
 whisper that distinctly said she was afraid of the 
 answer. 
 
 "Wh-what did they do to him?" 
 "Administered a sort of anesthetic so that he would 
 not feel the pain of parting with us so much," Claver 
 ing returned easily. "It's quite harmless in single 
 doses. Induces about ten hours' sleep and most pleas 
 ant dreams like opium, you know. So his journey to 
 Basanna, per hammock, should be rather comfortable. 
 Don't be alarmed. It isn't your hammock. Explana 
 tion entirely satisfactory?" 
 
 Miss Severoid's head cleared a little, but strangely 
 uncertain and uncanny sounds emanating from the 
 gloom behind her made her a little dubious about the 
 truth of her companion's tale. 
 
 "Bu-but why did you let him go so far? If you had 
 those people waiting about you could have " 
 
 "Achieved the same result with much less personal 
 discomfort. True but it would never do to have 
 him suspect when he awakes that you had a hand in it. 
 You hope to go back to civilization, I suppose, and I 
 thought it best to impress the poor chap that you had 
 been a help to him. Judging by the way he apologized 
 to you, I imagine he thought you had. You see, I 
 have to be careful in matters of that sort, that the 
 responsibility and suspicion will fall solely upon me 
 and not upon my friends. Which forces me to be 
 rather elaborate sometimes."
 
 236 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 He spoke wearily as if these details tired him. 
 Halting he said quietly : 
 
 "You can tell Maybrick when you see him again that 
 I was not at all unpleasant to you, but helped you on 
 your way which isn't altogether untruthful, is it?" 
 His eyes glowed at her in the dark, almost as luminous 
 as a cat's. "I shall leave you here, and you need have 
 no fears on the lieutenant's account. Get as much 
 sleep as you can to-night, because to-morrow is going 
 to be rather tiresome. Still doubtful about anything?" 
 
 "No that is I don't think so. Sh-shall I see you 
 again before " 
 
 "I'm afraid not. There is nothing I can help you 
 with now any better than Cralla. Afterward I shall 
 come to see you. Good night, Miss Severoid ! Ilora 
 will see that you reach the village in safety. Ilora 
 wah!" 
 
 And that was all he said. 
 
 Miss Severoid felt the gentle pressure of his fingers 
 as the Jackrie girl came to his side, and almost before 
 she had gathered voice enough to return his soft "Good 
 night!" he was gone. 
 
 Ever since that night in Segwanga, when he had 
 held out his arms to her and she had coquettishly re 
 fused their invitation after leading him to believe that 
 she might do so, he had not once made any overtures 
 of that kind. Which gave Miss Severoid food for se 
 rious thought as she followed the sulky Ilora back to 
 Mayona. 
 
 She had drawn two strong men into her service, and 
 that each would undoubtedly come to claim his reward 
 when "it was all over" was as inevitable as the dawn. 
 But she scarcely thought of McClure in that finale 
 only of Clavering. 
 
 She could not tell what he might do, particularly 
 since he had become so quiet and serious about her.
 
 METHOD IN HIS MADNESS 237 
 
 Clavering in flirtation could be handled, but Clavering 
 in passionate earnest was an entirely different thing, 
 and almost sure to be dangerous. 
 
 Consequently, in spite of his advice, Miss Severoid 
 did not sleep very well that night. She had sowed des 
 perately and was becoming afraid of the reaping. 
 
 Maybrick, on the contrary, slept very well indeed. 
 So did his Yoruba orderlies, but the latter were not a 
 part of the silent little procession that marched swiftly 
 through the night toward Basanna. They were too 
 much trouble to carry. 
 
 So that Chief Tomi, without having been in any way 
 responsible for their disappearance, got his targets, 
 after all ! 
 
 Which is the rest of what Clavering meant when he 
 told Miss Severoid that he had to be careful to protect 
 his friends. He might have added : 
 
 "And feed their lusts to keep them." 
 
 But it may be remembered, at the same time, that 
 these orderlies had treated Cralla like a sack of yams. 
 
 s
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 ON TO TULAMl! 
 
 McCLURE had noted Maybrick's absence from 
 Tomi's compound very shortly after the lieutenant had 
 gone. But he did not bother about it then. 
 
 Afterward, when he was sure that Providence alone 
 could intervene on behalf of the carriers, and that he 
 had done all he could for those whose hours were num 
 bered, he retired to the hut which had been assigned 
 to him, leaving Tomi, who was bubbling with charity, 
 to keep his women at the unwelcome task of attending 
 the sick and preparing graves for the dead. 
 
 Observing that Miss Severoid's hut was in darkness, 
 McClure presumed that she was asleep, and when he 
 learned from Plymouth that Maybrick and his order 
 lies "done go for bush," he sat alone for a long time 
 pondering the possible reasons that might have led the 
 lieutenant to march voluntarily into the bush at night 
 with two unarmed orderlies. But he did not arrive at 
 any very satisfactory conclusions, and, having no par 
 ticular reason for constituting himself as Maybrick's 
 keeper, he finally dozed off, vaguely wondering 
 whether Cralla's absence had anything to do with the 
 matter. 
 
 He was afraid it had. Next morning, finding that 
 Maybrick and his Yorubas were still missing, he was 
 sure of it, particularly when he found Cralla in Tomi's 
 compound counting the survivors. 
 
 There were fifteen. Exactly half of Cralla's force 
 238
 
 ON TO TULAMI! 239 
 
 had either bolted or succumbed, and those that were 
 left with the exception of the head man and one or 
 two other unlovely brutes who looked as if they could 
 drink vitriol and live did not appear to be anxious or 
 capable of continuing the journey. 
 
 McClure looked them over, pursed his lips, pulled 
 upon his mustache for a minute or two, then shot a* 
 sudden and inquiring glance at Cralla. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 Cralla wrung his hands and moaned, and Chief 
 Tomi tried to look sad, too. 
 
 "Be my money !" Cralla chanted dolefully. "Where 
 I go get money to buy fifteen more carrier man? 
 Yella! Yella! There be jttju for my head ! And I 
 no do nothin' bad to no man!" 
 
 He made queer noises with his tongue and swore 
 in Jackrie, Sobo, Beni, and Ejau strange oaths that 
 were an anathema upon the bones of the departed car 
 riers and their remotest ancestors. 
 
 "What are we going to do?" McClure interrupted 
 when he became tired of the jumble. 
 
 Cralla did not know, but Tomi, good friend that he 
 was, suddenly bubbled over with good-natured assist 
 ance, and offered as many of his boys as were neces 
 sary to fill the gaps then looked toward McClure for 
 a sign of practical appreciation. 
 
 But the trader, with an idle glance round about, 
 ignored the implication, and watched the village yawn 
 and stretch and crawl from its sweltering slumbers 
 back to the squalid reality of another day. 
 
 Looking sharply at Cralla again he asked abruptly : 
 
 "Where gbvernment man ?" 
 
 Cralla did not betray so much as the stirring' of an 
 eyelash, and his wailings did not cease. 
 
 "He go back to Basanna," he said in the same whin 
 ing tone. "I t'ink he be juju"
 
 240 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 McClure did not believe that, but he knew it would 
 be worse than useless to attempt to probe the matter 
 any further. He went to have breakfast with Miss 
 Severoid, feeling anything but satisfied with her expe 
 dition. He was sure that Maybrick had come by a 
 most untimely end. 
 
 But he tried to shield the ugly thought from Miss 
 Severoid when she asked very promptly as he entered 
 her hut : 
 
 "Where is the lieutenant?" 
 
 "Gone back to Basanna, I believe. Cralla says so. 
 Sleep well?" 
 
 "Oh yes splendidly, thanks !" Miss Severoid lied 
 jerkily, trying not to look as* relieved as Cralla's ex 
 planation of Maybrick's departure made her. "Are 
 are we moving to-day?" 
 
 "I believe so." His glance was very searching. 
 "You look pale and tired and frightened. Becoming a 
 little too much for you, isn't it?" 
 
 "Oh no no, really!" she protested. "And here 
 comes Ilora with the hot water for my tea. I shouldn't 
 let you see me till I've had my first cup and these 
 stuffy little places are not just the best aid to the com 
 plexion. Why aren't you wearing your eye-shade? 
 Your eyes are still inflamed quite a lot, and I'm sure 
 they must hurt." 
 
 "No. Nothing to speak of. They're all right 
 now." 
 
 McClure permitted her to examine his eyes more 
 closely and tried to smile in the teeth of what he be 
 lieved had happened to Maybrick, but Miss Severoid 
 did not fail to detect his uneasiness. Sensing the cause, 
 she took a firm grip upon her nerves and voice and 
 declared deliberately, as Ilora served the sickly-looking 
 Delta eggs : 
 
 "I am not sorry the lieutenant has gone back, be-
 
 ON TO TULAMI! 241 
 
 cause I was afraid he was going to be terribly officious 
 and not let us go any farther if I wouldn't wouldn't 
 let him make love to me! He he came back last 
 night after you'd both gone out and and " She 
 stopped and allowed McClure to read the rest of it in 
 her face. "Perhaps that was why he went back. 
 But you you mustn't ever tell any one I told you." 
 
 Which was some of the truth, at any rate, and the 
 time was not ripe for full and complete confessions. 
 Afterward she hoped the justification for what she 
 had done would be plainer. 
 
 McClure's hands clenched on his knees and black 
 thunder-clouds came and hung over his eyes. 
 
 "Don't!" Miss Severoid pleaded softly. "I don't 
 like you when you look like that." 
 
 But McClure did not speak, nor did his face become 
 very much clearer for the remainder of the meal ; and 
 Ilora, who feared him and loved him, and watched him 
 surreptitiously at all times with her own crude concep 
 tions of hero-worship, exulted because she thought 
 his very evident displeasure was directed at Miss Sev 
 eroid. 
 
 The girl had not for an instant given up hope of see 
 ing Miss Severoid's wonderful white skin quiver under 
 the mutilating lash of a hippo-hide wielded by Mc 
 Clure. 
 
 There was no further mention of Maybrick, and 
 none whatever of Clavering. McClure, however, ap 
 peared to be thinking very deeply, even as he shared 
 the burden of an inconsequential conversation that had 
 nothing to do with the expedition's purpose and diffi 
 culties. 
 
 Since Miss Severoid had put a chain upon his tongue 
 in Basanna, McClure had relapsed without a murmur 
 into his former attitude of courteous solicitude in 
 which there was a vein of big-brotherly authoritative-
 
 242 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 ness, with its consequent angle of shoulder-shrugging 
 indifference to her whims. 
 
 But there was not a waking moment in which he did 
 not ask himself what Clavering's intentions were. 
 The nearer they drew to Benin City the more poignant 
 the question became. 
 
 Undoubtedly Clavering had a definite object in view, 
 and McClure, judging the man by his past perform 
 ances, could gage the nature of the object with a fair 
 degree of accuracy. 
 
 Maybrick's "indiscretion" served only to accentuate 
 Clavering's possible purpose, and McClure thought of 
 it with the sensations of a man who goes to his death 
 with his revolver in his belt and his hands tied behind 
 his back. 
 
 He alone stood between Miss Severoid and the out 
 law's smooth but terrible machinations; yet he could 
 do nothing to assure her safety until her desperate 
 whim to enter Benin City had been satisfied. 
 
 Again and again he had employed round oaths to 
 condemn his own colossal folly for allowing such an 
 insane purpose to be credited with even the faintest 
 shadow of his approval ; and then he would study Miss 
 Severoid's face for a minute or two and mutter, 
 "ntafischf" with all the fatalism of a Sudanese camel- 
 driver. 
 
 The march to Tulami began shortly after seven 
 o'clock to the accompaniment of much screeching and 
 gesticulation upon the part of Mayona's more-than- 
 half -naked population. Tomi was bubbling over with 
 good wishes, and the last McClure saw of him was in 
 the shape of a large black blot in the foreground of a 
 group of filthy and emaciated villagers, some of whom 
 were dressed for the occasion in the festival attire of 
 a loin-cloth. 
 
 And then they vanished behind a clump of green.
 
 ON TO TULAMI! 243 
 
 and the mocking screech of their farewell died into a 
 whispering silence as the expedition, like a great snake, 
 wound its twisting way in single file along the narrow 
 bush path to Tulami. 
 
 In some places Miss Severoid's hammock barely 
 managed to squeeze through, and as the bearers tugged 
 upon it, it resembled a rowboat in a choppy sea. But 
 its occupant had become accustomed to these discom 
 forts, and they afforded her a mild speculative interest, 
 inasmuch as she was almost constantly wondering 
 when the thing would overturn and precipitate her into 
 the underbrush among the snakes and centipedes. 
 
 McClure marched behind, with Ilora and Plymouth 
 bringing up the rear, and there were many times when 
 the head of the procession was invisible to the tail. 
 Upon one of those occasions, with Maybrick's disap 
 pearance still troubling him, the trader turned his head 
 and beckoned the watchful Ilora with a nod. 
 
 The Jackrie girl trembled and the whites of her eyes 
 became suddenly prominent. He had never spoken to 
 her before, and ever since the evening on which she had 
 wielded a hurricane lantern with such deadly effective 
 ness, she had lived in constant dread of detection by 
 McClure himself. 
 
 But she squeezed her way obediently to his side with 
 an impudent show of indifference. 
 
 McClure regarded her carefully for a minute or two 
 before he spoke. 
 
 "Why you wear your cloth so?" he asked in a low 
 monotone, fixing her with a look that permitted no 
 prevarication and indicating her unusual method of 
 fastening her overcloth over her shoulders instead of 
 under the arms. 
 
 All Ilora's indifference vanished. She wilted in 
 stantly and writhed from the question in a new-born 
 shame a sensation entirely foreign to her. The
 
 244 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 marks over her shoulder blades, which her overcloth 
 was intended to hide, burned again fiercely and seemed 
 to screech aloud the fact that she, Ilora of Warn, 
 favored among her womankind, had been tied hand 
 and foot like a branded slave and flogged. 
 
 "Flog palaver eh?" McClure suggested mildly, 
 since she did not answer. "You be wife of bushman 
 who flogs his wife like slave. I think you be Warri 
 girl?" 
 
 Ilora's head drooped. She made no reply, and none 
 was necessary. Her disgrace, all the more keen be 
 cause McClure had detected it, was plainly written in 
 her face. They jogged silently along for another 
 space in the wake of the twisting line of carriers and 
 Miss Severoid's reeling hammock, which, if it did not 
 screen McClure from Cralla's watchful eyes, served to 
 hide Ilora's presence at his side. 
 
 Plymouth came slouching on like a dog at the heels 
 of his master. 
 
 "You be Cralla wife?" McClure asked Ilora softly 
 after a while. 
 
 She nodded reluctantly, with her eyes fixed upon the 
 yellow clay under her feet. And she knew that the 
 nod was an admission of the fact that it had been 
 Cralla who had used the hippo-hide, since no one else 
 would have dared to do so. 
 
 McClure waited a minute or two, contemplating 
 Cralla in a new role. Then his hand closed firmly but 
 carefully about the girl's arm. She made no protest; 
 in fact, she subsided so peacefully into his grip that 
 he marveled at it, and her queer little grin of satisfac 
 tion was better understood as her glance traveled ex 
 ultantly to the rocking hammock. 
 
 McClure noted that, too, and considered her guard 
 edly for several more minutes ere he felt safe to whis 
 per.
 
 ON TO TULAMI! 245 
 
 "Government man go back to Basanna?" 
 
 Ilora looked up swiftly, then away again. And then 
 she nodded as though afraid some one might see her. 
 
 "Last night?'' McClure persisted, confident that the 
 girl was speaking the truth and that Miss Severoid 
 could not hear. 
 
 Another nod, more vigorous than the previous one ; 
 and McClure breathed more easily, and marveled that 
 Miss Severoid's explanation of Maybrick's departure 
 should have been, after all, the correct one ! 
 
 He thought of asking Ilora why Cralla had flogged 
 her, but feeling sure that she would not tell him the 
 truth upon that matter because a Jackrie is always 
 punished for "doing nothing" he patted her on the 
 shoulder, told her she was a good girl and allowed her 
 to resume her place in the rear again. 
 
 She complied so reluctantly that he marveled still 
 more. Turning his head a few minutes later as he 
 mopped the perspiration from his face and forehead, 
 he caught her watching him with a savage and pitiful 
 sort of admiration that was disturbing. 
 
 But he faced front again without a word. Glancing 
 upward occasionally through the tangle overhead for 
 a sign of rain, he plodded steadily on behind Miss 
 Severoid's hammock, moodily speculating upon the 
 immediate future beyond Tulami. 
 
 Reaching Tulami was a sizzling, monotonous, pa 
 tience-testing business. There was green on the right 
 and green on the left and a twining, lumpy ribbon of 
 a path between. So far as Miss Severoid was con 
 cerned, when the tramp was begun again after the 
 noonday rest, even the snakes had lost their interest 
 and she had a vague desire to see leopards and ele 
 phants and hippopotami all at a safe distance, of 
 course anything that would create a little diversion 
 from the steady, scuffling plod of the carriers who
 
 246 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 slouched along with but one aim in view, and that to 
 be rid of their packs as quickly as possible. 
 
 But there is surprisingly little diversion in the day 
 time when one has become accustomed to the scrawny 
 Delta monkeys' antics and to the fact that one is shut 
 in from all the world, entirely at the mercy of one's 
 carriers and guides. 
 
 Sometimes a carrier is bitten by a centipede and 
 creates a little excitement as he bolts for the whisky, 
 with the result that he dies gloriously drunk or that 
 the alcohol saves him. But occurrences of that sort 
 are rare, and in those days the most treacherous thin^ 
 in the Beni country was the Beni himself. 
 
 When the hammock would permit, Miss Severoid 
 thought principally of the fact that within twenty-four 
 hours she would know the best or the worst. And 
 when one has been striving for months to make the 
 impossible probable, one knows what is meant by "the 
 last long weary mile that makes the journey's end," 
 more particularly when the journey's end is the walled 
 city of Benin. 
 
 There were moments when Miss Severoid's mouth 
 was a knifelike line when her lips had no color in 
 them and her eyes were devoid of life; and then, as 
 the hammock would jolt perilously and threaten to 
 overturn, she would start from these unhappy reveries, 
 clutch at the straps and pray. 
 
 Her surroundings were becoming wilder and wilder 
 at every turn, and the stragglers they passed were more 
 weird as to head-dress and more fearsome in their face 
 markings than the people of Mayona. The problem 
 of clothes had thinned out to the airy edge of nothing 
 ness. 
 
 And McClure could see the fear of Clavering in 
 every face; saw mothers with their babies on their 
 backs burrow into the bush out of the way the moment
 
 ON TO TULAMI! 247 
 
 they caught sight of Chief Cralla, whose power lay 
 solely in the fact that he was Covering's agent. 
 
 But Cralla, as usual, looked neither to right nor left 
 nor behind him; neither did he falter nor slacken his 
 pace; but driving the carriers relentlessly on before 
 him he herded them into wild Tulami shortly before 
 sunset, just in time to escape the storm that, if only 
 upon account of the twenty-four hours of time it 
 wasted, is worth remembering. 
 
 It proved to be of vast importance when the climax 
 was reached.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 WITHIN THE GATES 
 
 IT rained all night, a steady downpour that made the 
 intended midnight advance on Benin City an impossi 
 bility and necessitated a twenty-four-hour sojourn in 
 Tulami that was far from pleasant. 
 
 That the place made Taomi and Basanna and May- 
 ona seem clean by comparison; that Miss Severoid's 
 hut swam in several inches of water before morning; 
 that she had to sit all night upon a wabbly deal board 
 slung across two empty kerosene cases and had to wear 
 an oilskin coat and hat and McClure's rain-boots ; that 
 the lightning flashed and the thunder roared and the 
 world seemed ready to give up the ghost at any mo 
 ment these were little things compared with the fact 
 that Benin City and Ralph her Ralph! were just a 
 few hours away, and she could not go on. 
 
 And when morning came and she learned that she 
 must spend one whole, useless day gasping in the midst 
 of unspeakable odors within the smothering confines 
 of the insalubrious hut, she laughed hysterically up 
 into McClure's face, gripped his arms and clung to him 
 in a frenzied sort of way that made him go rather 
 white. He muttered incoherent words of sympathy 
 and patted her soothingly on the head as though she 
 were a child. 
 
 Ilora, always near and always watching, blasphemed 
 in silence, and then going out and capturing a lizard 
 with a golden head and a tail the color of blue-black 
 ink, she held it captive within a triangle of mango 
 
 248
 
 WITHIN THE GATES 249 
 
 twigs; gave it to eat and to drink, muttering a weird 
 incantation into its ear. Then she flayed it over a slow 
 fire and waited for its spirit to wreak vengeance upon 
 Miss Severoid. 
 
 She waited all day. Judging by the ghostly pallor 
 of Miss Severoid's cheeks, the nervous twisting of her 
 mouth, her constant moving to and fro, her efforts to 
 sleep that were useless and the manner in which she 
 slowly but surely tore a small and innocent handker 
 chief to shreds, it seemed as if the sacrificed lizard's 
 spirit was really gnawing at her heart. 
 
 But Ilora knew nothing of nerves and their vagaries. 
 Nor did she know of the leagues and leagues Miss Sev 
 eroid had traveled over all manner of impassable bar 
 riers or of the planning and the praying, and the flirt 
 ing and the lying and the smiling she had done while 
 her heart was being tortured by the agonizing hours 
 and weeks and months of hoping and yearning for the 
 sound of a voice and sight of a face that were dearer 
 to her than life itself. 
 
 And that final day of waiting at Tulami was the 
 worst. It dragged interminably, each hour like a 
 thousand years; a broiling, choking day of chilling 
 fears and wild, unreasonable hopes that soared to the 
 zenith of the impossible, then sank again with nause 
 ating suddenness whenever she recalled to mind the 
 name of Daka. 
 
 McClure watched her curiously and anxiously, and 
 did his unhappy best to direct her interest toward all 
 manner of things except Benin City, about which he 
 had his own opinions and misgivings. But his efforts 
 as an entertainer upon that day were doomed to fail 
 ure. Miss Severoid would meet his eyes and smile 
 and seem to be all attention, and then she would be 
 looking beyond him northward, and his words would 
 fall upon barren places.
 
 250 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Cralla was not seen all day, so it was presumed that 
 he was taking advantage of the delay in sleep. 
 
 The natives grunted and screeched and squabbled 
 and wallowed in pestilential filth, dragging their dis 
 ease-infected bodies through the daily grind of exist 
 ence, and clinging to their squalid, narrow lives with 
 considerably more tenacity than those to whom Cape 
 Town is but a suburb of London. 
 
 And then the darkness came and the screeching and 
 the squabbling gave way to a low murmur that finally 
 died into a morbid and nerve-wrecking silence; that 
 silence that is more destructive than a riot. 
 
 It was then that McClure had to sit by Miss Sever- 
 oid's side on the deal-board seat, and gripping her 
 hands, prevent her from attempting to reach the walled 
 city of Benin alone. 
 
 She did not see why she could not. It wasn't far 
 just a few miles through the dark and he was there, 
 waiting for her to come to him and take him home. 
 Clavering had said so and surely Clavering knew ! 
 
 She would go ! She would ! She would ! 
 
 With which she stamped her small right foot and 
 attempted to elude McClure's substantial bulk as she 
 bolted for the door. 
 
 Whereat the trader cast convention aside, and seiz 
 ing her in his arms, carried her, struggling and moan 
 ing, back to the deal-board seat, where, drawing her 
 head into the hollow of his shoulder and holding her 
 so that she could not move, he scolded her and petted 
 her and, as he mentally phrased it "made a ruddy 
 blubbering fool of himself" to the lasting amazement 
 of Plymouth and the destruction of Ilora's hopes. 
 
 Presently Miss Severoid was calm again. That is, 
 the violent fit of frenzy and aguelike trembling that 
 followed it subsided, giving way to the mercy of silent 
 tears which she shed into one of the pockets of Me-
 
 WITHIN THE GATES 251 
 
 Clure's service shirt. After that she felt much better, 
 though she had difficulty in looking the trader straight 
 in the eyes. 
 
 But McClure, who made no comment upon her con 
 duct, treated her as if it had never been, asked no 
 questions, and remained steadfastly by her side dis 
 pensing optimism till Cralla came. 
 
 The chief, whose expression did not indicate any 
 thing in particular, had very little to say; simply that 
 whenever Miss Severoid was ready they would go on. 
 Miss Severoid having been awake and ready for at 
 least thirty hours, there was no more time lost on her 
 account. 
 
 So with the simple preliminary of seeing that there 
 was enough oil in the lamps and that Miss Severoid got 
 into the hammock quite safely, Cralla's headman, in 
 the capacity of lamp-boy, led the little body of adven 
 turers out of Tulami upon the final and most gloomy 
 lap of their adventurous journey. 
 
 The carriers were left behind, but Ilora and Plym 
 outh were in their usual places at the heels of McClure, 
 whose right hand rested upon the butt of his revolver 
 and remained there. 
 
 He had no illusions about the outcome so far as his 
 own fate was concerned. With his eyes wide open he 
 was going to what he believed to be certain death, and 
 his only hope was that he would have an opportunity 
 to make it a swift one. To be food for Daka's amuse 
 ment did not appeal to him at all. 
 
 Of Miss Severoid's future he did not dare to think. 
 When he did his fingers itched on the revolver butt. 
 Cralla's life was in jeopardy many times during those 
 three silent hours when, for the greater part, the swish 
 and rustle of the chief's cloth about his ankles was the 
 only sound in the world. 
 
 Several times the ominous snarl of one of the larger
 
 25 2 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 wildcat family made Miss Severoid feel chilly. It was 
 then that the deepest silences fell. The bush dogs 
 ceased their eery yelping, and the squealing monkeys 
 climbed rapidly higher and remained very quiet in a 
 quaking fear. The leopard likes monkey meat and he 
 can climb a long way to get it. 
 
 The path became a little broader, permitting Mc- 
 Clure to walk comfortably by the side of the hammock. 
 Every little while he whispered words of comfort to 
 its pale-lipped but hopeful occupant, who was shielded 
 by a gauzy mosquito curtain from the mosquitoes and 
 sandflies and other more deadly things that flew and 
 lived upon human blood. 
 
 In a very few minutes, in spite of the curtain, a 
 small soft hand came out, groped in the darkness for a 
 little while, and, finding McClure's left, clung to two 
 fingers of it with the tenacity of a leech and the simple 
 faith of a child. 
 
 The trader straightened a little and his grip upon the 
 revolver butt tightened. The whole world seemed to 
 be waiting and listening to hear the deep and silent 
 breath he drew. 
 
 Presently, just a few minutes after an unfriendly 
 bush-cat had run foul of Cralla's headman, and had 
 been lucky to escape alive before the other lamp-boy's 
 machete finished him, Cralla swung round a bend in 
 the path that brought them under the shadow of the 
 city wall a bend that, upon one occasion, was the 
 scene of much slaughter when an ill-advised, gift-laden 
 peace expedition to Benin City was treacherously be 
 trayed and almost annihilated. 
 
 So peaceful an expedition was it that the seven white 
 men who composed it had their revolvers safely stowed 
 away in their traveling cases, to avoid the temptation 
 of using them. Their only weapons were short walk 
 ing-canes. The spirit of the Beni may be better under-
 
 WITHIN THE GATES 253 
 
 stood when it is said that with these walking-canes, 
 assisted by a considerable number of unarmed Kroo- 
 boys who were laden with gifts for the chiefs of Benin, 
 the intrepid little company repulsed the greasy Beni 
 hordes time and again, till these naked savages, piling 
 up the dead and wounded Kroo-boys across the path, 
 used them as a barricade, and wreaked still more death 
 and destruction in the ranks of the peaceful. 
 
 Two of the white men and several of the Kroo-boys 
 escaped but only one of the whites reached civiliza 
 tion with his reason unimpaired. 
 
 Another white member of the peace party lived to be 
 taken into Benin City alive, and his black boy, who 
 managed to escape, reached Saloko and crawled into a 
 trader's office whining and laughing alternately and 
 jabbering irrationally about crucifixion and other 
 things. 
 
 Sick and heart-broken, seated upon his traveling 
 case with a red stream trickling down his face from a 
 wound over the temple, while the mad Beni horde 
 pumped pot-legs and rusty nails from their ancient 
 muzzle-loaders into the helpless pack of the Kroo-boys 
 the leader of the expedition was asked by his fever 
 ish Kroo-boy attendant if he wanted his revolver. 
 
 He shook his head slowly, looked up through the 
 blood and the smoke, and sat quite still waiting. 
 
 And when it came it found him ready the martyr 
 of an idea of his own peaceful to the last. 
 
 From the bend to the city wall was no great dis 
 tance, and Cralla did not hesitate a moment until he 
 came to the narrow entrance that was really an arcade, 
 leading through the solid breadth of the huge wall of 
 mud. 
 
 It has been claimed that the wall was as broad as it 
 was high. When a chief of Benin died his wives and 
 family and slaves and the wives and family and slaves
 
 254 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 of his successor congregated upon the top of the 
 wall where the ghastly funeral rites were performed, 
 after which the wives and slaves of the deceased 
 who had been sacrificed as a tribute to the dead were 
 hurled with their late master into the reeking trench 
 that encircled the city upon the outside of the wall. 
 
 And that was all the burial they received. 
 
 At the narrow little entrance Cralla halted, waiting 
 for McClure and the hammock bearers to come up with 
 him. 
 
 The wall rose sheer and black into the darkness over 
 head; but the unsteady light from the lanterns helped 
 to outline the entrance, which, dark and subterranean 
 as it seemed, was apparently unguarded. But perhaps 
 Daka thought that the awful stench that arose from 
 the burial ditch curving away to right and left of the 
 path would be sufficient to keep the idly curious white 
 man away from his door-step. 
 
 It made Miss Severoid sick and faint. As she came 
 somewhat uncertainly out of the hammock she was 
 glad of the support of McClure's arm while she gath 
 ered her scattering senses and realized that at last she 
 was to see Ralph again to hear him speak to hold 
 him in her arms 
 
 She saw McClure draw his revolver slowly from its 
 holster. The deliberateness of the action suggested 
 very plainly the danger into which she had led him, 
 made her gulp and swallow once or twice, and halt her 
 paean of joy until they should be all safely out of the 
 wood. 
 
 Cralla muttered something in Beni to the hammock 
 bearers, who grunted in reply and retired a few paces, 
 apparently not at all annoyed at being left outside. 
 
 "No make noise," Cralla whispered to everybody in 
 general, but looked directly at McClure, whose eyes 
 were everywhere at once, searching the opaque shadows
 
 WITHIN THE GATES 255 
 
 for the first sign of treachery. "I go first. White 
 mammy follow. We no need Kroo-boy. So fly, 
 sof'ly. Wah!" 
 
 And without another word or a moment of waiting 
 he dived into the tunnel-like passage through the wall 
 in the wake of the lamp-boys. 
 
 Miss Severoid was the first to make any move in 
 pursuit, and there was little hesitation about her man 
 ner of doing so. Her limbs grew strong again in a 
 second, the faintness passed, and some of the frenzy 
 of that day came back to her. 
 
 A queer little sound half cry, half sob escaped 
 her. Suddenly lifting McClure's left hand to her lips, 
 she kissed him blindly on the thumb-nail, then dragged 
 him after her into that city of a thousand hells.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 THE EXCHANGE 
 
 McCiAJRE went willingly. 
 
 He was tingling to the roots of his being; though, 
 judged solely upon its merits as a kiss, that hasty effort 
 of Miss Severoid's was nothing to brag about. 
 
 As he vanished through the gateway he called whis- 
 peringly to Plymouth : "Wait till I come out." The 
 Kroo-boy replied with an unintelligible grunt that 
 might have meant anything. Fumbling at his waist- 
 cloth, he gripped the haft of an ugly knife and obeyed. 
 
 But he drew away from the hammock bearers, who 
 were Benis, and therefore to be held in contempt. 
 
 Drawing her overcloth tighter about her neck, Ilora 
 grinned in a sickly, enigmatical .sort of way and fol 
 lowed McClure, while the hammock bearers, also grin 
 ning most significantly, squatted on their haunches, 
 produced their pipes, and made ready to wait in com 
 fort. 
 
 The Jackrie girl had seen the revolver in McClure's 
 hand. As she trod almost on his heels while they 
 passed into the city her attention was attracted solely 
 to the glint of the weapon, as though she had a per 
 sonal interest in it. 
 
 There did not, however, seem to be any need for 
 the revolver. Not that there were not shadows and 
 mystery and the constant threat of dangers unseen. 
 The very fact of the place being Benin City created 
 those, both real and imaginary. 
 
 256
 
 THE EXCHANGE 257 
 
 But the whole city which was not so large as the 
 name implies seemed to be very sound asleep, and 
 there was not a soul in sight to challenge any one. In 
 fact, the entrance was accomplished so simply that it 
 was dangerous; at least McClure thought so, and his 
 eyes were darting about him swift as lightning. 
 
 They had not very far to go; scarcely fifty yards. 
 They passed a few straggling, outlying huts to a 
 slightly larger hut before which Miss Severoid quickly 
 detected a light. 
 
 Her heart was beating like a trip-hammer, and she 
 had no thought of danger. She was following Cralla 
 and his lamp-boys with the sensations of one who 
 hoped and pleaded for much at their hands and was 
 consequently feeding her hopes upon every step that 
 drew her nearer and nearer to her heart's desire. 
 
 The lamp-boys made directly for the compound with 
 the light which came from a small lantern held by a 
 black colossus whose height and girth equaled Mc- 
 Clure's, and whose hideously marked face made Miss 
 Severoid shudder as the lamplight fell upon it. 
 
 But he was as meek as a lamb. At a word from 
 Cralla he turned instantly about and led them across 
 the compound, past shadowy, sleeping forms of na 
 tives, and under vague, uncanny shapes of things that 
 looked like human heads hanging by the hair from an 
 invisible rope. 
 
 As least, Miss Severoid thought that, and her heart 
 grew leaden and sank with nauseating suddenness. 
 
 What if they were too late? What if Daka had 
 learned that Ralph was not black, but white ? Perhaps 
 perhaps Ralph's head hung 
 
 Her head became light. She saw Cralla and the 
 lamps through a haze, and it was as if she were fol 
 lowing them through space to the blackest depths of 
 the bottomless pit. And then, somehow or other, they
 
 258 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 reached the door of the hut, where their guide, mum 
 bling something Miss Severoid did not understand, 
 apparently wished them to wait while he disappeared 
 inside. 
 
 He was gone less than a minute, but it was an eter 
 nity to the gray-lipped woman who leaned, sick and 
 faint, against McClure, without being actually aware 
 of the fact that he was there. 
 
 The whole business was all very quiet and mysteri 
 ous; the air was heavy and dank and nauseous with 
 unhappy odors, and out of that deadly, wheezing 
 silence and those pitlike shadows anything might have 
 come. So that it was not very difficult for Miss Sever 
 oid to suppose that the bunches of red-skinned bananas, 
 suspended from a thin but tough rope of hide strips, 
 were heads, particularly since her imagination was 
 primed for that sort of thing. 
 
 McClure had not been illusioned, but in the second 
 or two before the giant Beni reappeared and grunted 
 an invitation to them to enter the hut, the trader com 
 mitted his soul to his Maker. 
 
 Ilora, muttering unintelligible gibberish to herself 
 behind him, seemed to be similarly employed. But 
 when they went inside her mutterings ceased, and she 
 stood gaping past McClure's elbow at the "white 
 mammy," who, with an agonizing moan of joy and 
 fear mingled, had instantly forgotten everything and 
 every one, and had sunk to her knees beside a tawny- 
 colored young negro who was perfectly bald and who 
 lay in the center of the floor upon mats, with his eyes 
 wide open in a glassy, unseeing stare. 
 
 The colossal guide stooped over him with his small 
 lamp, and Cralla's lamp-boys added the light of their 
 lanterns to help Miss Severtfid see the young man's 
 face more clearly. 
 
 And she quickly saw that though the face-markings
 
 THE EXCHANGE 259 
 
 upon his forehead and cheeks were those of a Jackrie, 
 the mouth and nose and eyes and chin were those of 
 Ralph Debenham! 
 
 His clothing consisted of a badly fitting gray shirt 
 and an overcloth that was fastened about his waist, 
 Jackrie fashion. There was no blanket or other cov 
 ering over him, and there was no furniture of any kind 
 in the room. 
 
 He made scarcely any sound and gave no sign of 
 recognition, not even when Miss Severoid, winding her 
 arms frantically about him and holding his head close 
 to her breast, passionately kissed him again and again, 
 and whispered chokingly that he should speak to her 
 and know that she had come to take him home. 
 
 But he only moved his head a little and a wheezy 
 moan of pain escaped him as if Miss Severoid's em 
 brace hurt. So she laid him gently "down again, and 
 kneeling at his side, stared into his tawny face as 
 though she had been turned to stone. 
 
 She made no outcry and shed no tears. But her 
 eyes had become almost as glassy as Debenham's. 
 
 There was no emotion in Cralla's face. He seemed 
 to be deliberately standing apart just watching. He 
 was apparently willing enough to wait a minute or two 
 until the "white mammy" realized of her own accord 
 that there was nothing she could do for the "small-boy 
 white man" in that place. 
 
 The others just gaped, except Ilora, who now leered 
 horribly. McClure, in stupefied wonder and pain, 
 chewed his mustache, and, like Cralla, waited while 
 Miss Severoid feasted her eyes upon Debenham's face 
 as if she thought that she might hypnotically influence 
 him to realize that she had come for him. 
 
 McClure faintly guessed what Debenham's malady 
 was. He had seen men in that state of coma before, 
 when their bodies had been racked with fever and pain
 
 2<5o THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 for weeks, and their minds had given up the struggle 
 to live though their hearts beat faintly on. 
 
 The wonderful thing, McClure thought, was that 
 Debenham was alive at all ; more wonderful, indeed, 
 than his tawny-colored skin and Jackrie face markings. 
 The trader could understand the latter, because they 
 were visible and tangible facts that were possible by 
 the use of diluted mango-bark juice, charcoal powder, 
 and probably black putty, though he had never heard 
 of any one being foolish enough to attempt to seriously 
 deceive the native with trickery of that sort. 
 
 Which made the fact of Debenham being alive all 
 the more wonderful. 
 
 Yet, apart from the dangers of death that lurked in 
 every nook and cranny of that filthy fever and scourge- 
 ridden city, Debenham's life had but once been in 
 danger of a violent end. 
 
 A badly-healed gash on his left shoulder, which was 
 concealed by the ill-fitting shirt he wore, was the me 
 mento he had of that occasion. 
 
 From the moment he had entered Benin City as 
 Cralla's slave he had not been allowed the satisfaction 
 of fooling any one of any consequence except himself, 
 and when he had been presumably sold to Daka, the 
 chief had been perfectly well aware of the fact that the 
 tawny skin of his new "purchase" was only make- 
 believe; principally because Cralla had saved him the 
 trouble of guessing the truth by previously advising 
 him of it. 
 
 In which Cralla was more wise than treacherous. 
 
 Had Daka learned the truth of his own accord at a 
 time when the chief of Akerri was absent in the south, 
 Debenham's demise would have l)een a thing of beauty 
 that is, from Daka's point of view. And Cralla or 
 Clavering, rather did not wish Debenham to die ; not 
 after he had wrested from the young daredevil the
 
 THE EXCHANGE 261 
 
 story of why he needed money so badly that he had 
 been willing to share with Cralla the five thousand 
 pounds offered for his, Clavering's, capture. 
 
 Debenham's youthful intrepidity had amused Claver- 
 ing, but the boy's story had given the outlaw an idea 
 one that was worthy of him; and when Clavering be 
 came possessed of an idea he usually saw it through 
 to a successful conclusion. 
 
 This idea was really an experiment which was to 
 begin by testing Debenham's courage and ability; to 
 discipline him and to wean him gradually away from 
 the habits and thoughts of his own kind, and finally, 
 if the test were worthily met, to train him for pur 
 poses of his own. 
 
 Debenham, however, was not told anything about it, 
 nor did he see the picturesque outlaw again after that 
 one and only interview which had taken place in 
 Tomi's hut in Mayona, to which Cralla and Ilora had 
 carried him after the abduction in Akerri. 
 
 Clavering had said in conclusion : 
 
 "All right, youngster, I'll forgive you for trying to 
 play Jonathan Wild at my expense. But you'll have 
 to make your peace with Cralla for tempting him into 
 danger. He's likely to get into trouble with the gov 
 ernment over your disappearance, and he won't be very 
 keen about your going back, because he's afraid you 
 might tell people that he is a good friend of mine, and 
 that wouldn't be very pleasant for him nor of much 
 good to me. 
 
 "So it seems as if you are between the devil and the 
 deep sea, and the only way out seems to become a bold, 
 bad bandit like myself. But get a bit of sleep, if you 
 can, and talk it over with Cralla in the morning." 
 
 And then Clavering had vanished. But he left the 
 details of his idea with Cralla, who, with many male 
 dictions upon Debenham's head, refused to trust to
 
 262 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 his becoming a bandit or to release him or even to risk 
 having a white man about his person. 
 
 So he put Debenham into a long sleep, and when 
 the boy awoke again he was a blotchy, tawny color. 
 There were puttylike marks on his forehead and 
 cheeks, and he was wearing a dirty loin-cloth. He 
 traveled in it to Benin City with Cralla, who "sold" 
 him into slavery whether he liked it or not. 
 
 The test of Debenham's courage and ability to act 
 had begun. 
 
 He met it without whining, shut his teeth upon his 
 fate, unflinchingly faced the death he firmly believed 
 menaced him on every side. And every minute of the 
 day and night he hoped for a chance to escape a 
 chance that never came. 
 
 Although he made several little "breaks" in the 
 playing of the part that had been thrust upon him, 
 these slips appeared to pass unnoticed, and though he 
 had the "luck" to become Daka's closest attendant, 
 which kept him out of the swelter and the stench of 
 the slave compounds, it never occurred to him that 
 Daka was being sourly and somewhat unwillingly 
 amused by having for a personal attendant a "small- 
 boy white man" v/ho was trying to be black. 
 
 Nor did Debenham dream that the beady-eyed, fat 
 and greasy chieftain of all the Benis had given his 
 word to Clavering that he would hold the "small-boy" 
 in captivity until such time as the outlaw desired to 
 free him. 
 
 Had Debenham known these things he would prob 
 ably not have so far forgotten himself as to resent the 
 lash of a hippo-hide across his shoulders one after 
 noon when Daka was in the sort of humor that usually 
 ended in a blood-letting orgy, upon which the inhuman 
 black mass of fat slept as innocently as a child.
 
 THE EXCHANGE 263 
 
 But Debenham did forget his part, and badly, too, 
 before Daka's eyes and upon Daka's person. 
 
 He remembered in that moment, as the wale across 
 his shoulders stung like a red-hot brand, that he was 
 white and that the hand that held the hippo-hide was 
 not. With the result that he instantly saw red. 
 Flying like a wildcat at Daka's toadying head man, 
 who had been ordered by the chief to administer the 
 lashes in. the "royal" presence, Debenham became pos 
 sessed of the whip and used it indiscriminately. 
 
 Daka got some of it before the impulsive and sui- 
 cidally reckless young man was brought down by a 
 blow from a machete which, intended for his head, 
 missed his ear by a hair's-breadth and stuck in his 
 shoulder. 
 
 After which Daka, insane with rage, pronounced 
 the death sentence by ordering him to the slave com 
 pounds those that were to furnish the "material" 
 for that evening's entertainment. Daka had no other 
 course left to him. His prestige demanded it ; but his 
 prestige did not demand it half as much as he did. 
 
 And just before darkness and disaster fell, Claver- 
 ing came. 
 
 He had been traveling at express speed for three 
 days, and he had come only for Debenham, not because 
 he thought the boy had shown courage and ability 
 enough and had been sufficiently disciplined, but be 
 cause his intention to have a tried and trained assistant 
 had died very suddenly with the advent of Miss Sev- 
 eroid into Segwanga about a week before. 
 
 But he found Daka in a very ugly mood, and in no 
 humor to release any one who had dared to use a 
 hippo-hide upon his beefy person ; and the more diplo 
 matic and patient Clavering was, the clearer Daka saw 
 that the outlaw wanted Debenham very badly.
 
 264 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Now, Daka was never so angry as to ignore any 
 thing that might be to his advantage. That was a 
 trait in his character that helped to make him almost 
 great. 
 
 He knew, too, that Clavering needed him quite as 
 much as he needed Clavering. Benin City had shel 
 tered Clavering several times, and the endorsement of 
 Daka made the outlaw brother to a king. 
 
 In return for this Clavering heaped Daka with 
 riches with oil and ivory and slaves; with guns that 
 killed at a great distance and with queer little jufu 
 stones that danced with a thousand fires or glowed 
 like a leopard's eyes in the night. 
 
 Daka had no intention of losing those useful and 
 pretty things, but neither had Daka any intention of 
 allowing Debenham to go until he, Daka, had been 
 recompensed for the injury to his dignity and his skin. 
 
 So Clavering and he made a bargain; or, rather, 
 Daka made a bargain with Clavering that was really 
 an ultimatum. The chief knew that, with Debenham 
 sweltering and bleeding in a slave-hut, he held the 
 upper hand. 
 
 For the sake of Miss Severoid, who had shed tears 
 on his shoulder, Clavering agreed to fulfil his part of 
 the bargain, and the boy was secretly removed from 
 the slave compounds to Cralla's hut. In that place 
 Debenham had awaited Cralla's coming with the price 
 of his freedom. 
 
 He did not know why his living-quarters had been 
 changed, nor had he any knowledge of Covering's 
 comings and goings. In the interval the ugly gash in 
 his shoulder had not healed as it should have. 
 
 The broiling heat of the days; the suffocating hu 
 midity of the nights ; the filth and the squalor and the 
 choking confinement of the hut ; the ignorance and sub 
 conscious brutality of his giant jailer and nurse, and
 
 THE EXCHANGE 265 
 
 the loss of blood all these things had combined to 
 make the boy very ill indeed; so ill that even Daka 
 became afraid he might die before Cralla arrived 
 with Clavering's part of the bargain. 
 
 However, Miss Severoid knew nothing of these 
 things. She saw only Ralph tawny-black, with hide 
 ous, puttylike lumps on his cheeks and forehead. His 
 eyes had no life in them, and his lips were cold and 
 irresponsive, no matter how passionately she kissed 
 him or pleaded with him to speak to her. 
 
 McClure was trying to watch her and Cralla and 
 every one at once, with rather dubious results. Imme 
 diately behind him, quite unnoticed, Ilora stood grin 
 ning with a peculiar, half-hearted exultation at Miss 
 Severoid's grief. 
 
 Every few seconds her glance would switch quickly 
 and furtively to McClure particularly to his right 
 hand, in which his revolver glinted menacingly. 
 
 Cralla was also giving some of his attention to the 
 trader's right hand. Apparently it bothered him a 
 little. He had not expected Debenham to be so sick 
 that he could not walk, and he was afraid that McClure 
 might offer to carry him out. 
 
 Which would be awkward and dangerous for 
 Debenham. 
 
 Then he said abruptly: "We go. Time pass too 
 quick. Come." 
 
 He jabbered something hurriedly in Beni to the 
 gigantic slave-driver, who instantly stooped and, with 
 surprising suddenness and little ceremony, seized Deb 
 enham from Miss Severoid's frantic arms, lifted him 
 up and, eluding the clutching fingers of the gray- 
 cheeked woman at his feet, straightway carried him 
 out. 
 
 Miss Severoid screamed, sprang up in a second, and 
 with the look of a wild thing transforming her beauti-
 
 266 [THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 ful face, she ignored the startled McClure ignored 
 everything to run madly after the giant Beni and his 
 burden. 
 
 Which proved that Cralla knew more about human 
 nature than one would have supposed. 
 
 Miss Severoid was not thinking of what she did. 
 It would have made no difference where the Beni had 
 led she would have followed. 
 
 And the Beni went swiftly, because that was part of 
 the program; so swiftly that Miss Severoid had to run 
 to keep up with him. She clutched at the brute's arm 
 in an effort to stay him, but he paid not the slightest 
 heed ; only dragged her after him across the compound 
 and out of it without a sign that he knew she was 
 there. 
 
 McClure followed instantly that is, about three 
 seconds later. 
 
 But three seconds is an unconscionable long time 
 sometimes. 
 
 It was quite long enough for Ilora to slip off her 
 overcloth. Following McClure swiftly, the fear of 
 death stifling the animal cry of anguish that came to 
 her throat, she leaped suddenly forward and upward 
 just as he stepped out into the compound, whirled the 
 cloth over his head, and smothered him in its folds !
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE RETURN 
 
 THE lights behind them went out. 
 
 A muffled oath came from the choking folds of the 
 cloth. McClure's great bulk instantly fought for 
 breath and to see. But in that second and time was 
 measured by very minute fractions then a long, black 
 arm came out of the darkness at his feet, slid a 
 machete between his legs, and as he wheeled sharply 
 and blindly to face the attack, he was hurled forward 
 upon his face with a shock that put new stars into the 
 firmament and deprived him of his wind, his revolver 
 and the power to think. 
 
 Ilora sprang back, quivering and moaning because 
 of the thing she, as the least to be suspected, had been 
 ordered to do. In an instant the compound was alive 
 with evil-smelling shadows of men, who to all intents 
 and purposes had been asleep. 
 
 Hard and heavy knees pressed into the small of 
 McClure's back. Several sweating, grunting brutes 
 with arms of iron seized upon each leg and several 
 more fought for the mastery of each arm. Clavering 
 paid the trader's strength a compliment that was the 
 result of personal experience with it. 
 
 McClure did not cry out or make any sound what 
 ever; just writhed and twisted and gritted his teeth 
 and exerted all the powers of his great body to throw 
 off the increasing weight of the slimy beings who 
 
 267
 
 268 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 whined and breathed with a wheezy, asthmatic sound 
 that reminded one of pigs in a pound. 
 
 And then a soapy, wet, spongelike thing was clai 
 over his mouth and nostrils. He drew three gasping 
 breaths in his struggle to escape the inevitable and 
 darkness fell. 
 
 In a moment or two more he was pinned down, 
 hand and head and foot, like a lizard for the sacrifice. 
 
 But he had had no chance from the beginning; and 
 Daka, to whom the price was paid, slept the notoriously 
 peaceful sleep of one who, toiling not nor spinning, has 
 made a splendid bargain. 
 
 "A white for a white" had been the sum of the bar 
 gain he had made with Clavering; and a large, per 
 fectly healthy white man for a half-dead "small-boy" 
 was undoubtedly a good bargain. Any one will con 
 cede that ; particularly since Clavering had agreed that 
 Daka could do what he liked with him. 
 
 It was the only bargain in the matter of Debenham's 
 release that Daka, holding the upper hand, would 
 make. Which possibly suggests another reason why 
 Clavering so magnanimously suggested McClure as an 
 escort for Miss Severoid, and why he had treated him 
 so very nicely at Basanna. 
 
 He knew that Daka, after the manner of any other 
 merchant, liked to have his goods delivered to him "in 
 good order and condition." 
 
 Cralla was at no time engaged in the struggle with 
 McClure, nor did he wait to learn the result of it. 
 That was a foregone conclusion. 
 
 Clambering into a deserted section of the compound 
 through a window on the right, and diving through a 
 side gateway, he sped off in pursuit of Miss Severoid, 
 who had temporarily forgotten that McClure existed. 
 
 Such thoughts as she had of the trader during those
 
 THE RETURN 269 
 
 agonizing moments while she pursued the Beni were 
 very vague. "Somewhere behind" was the sum of 
 them. 
 
 Fearful, unthinking, trusting no one, she ran at the 
 slave-driver's heels, hearing uncanny sounds behind 
 her to which she paid no heed ; and saw nothing but a 
 perfectly bald head and a tawny arm that swung limply 
 over the Beni's shoulder. 
 
 She caught at the hand and held it and sobbed in 
 coherent pleadings as she ran, asking herself chokingly 
 if he would never speak to her never look into her 
 face and know that she had come all the way from 
 London to take him home. 
 
 And then she heard the patter of naked feet behind 
 her, and Cralla's voice, hoarse with terrifying tidings, 
 came out of the eery darkness that enveloped them. 
 
 "Make quick! Make quick! Daka come and 
 all man go die! Re-yawl Yella! Yella! Yella! 
 Make quick! Daka come!" 
 
 Fear clutched at Miss Severoid's heart with an icy 
 hand; not fear for herself, but for the almost lifeless 
 burden the Beni carried, and when his pace increased, 
 a silent prayer of thankfulness went up to Heaven. 
 He could not go fast enough then. 
 
 Before she realized where they were going or why 
 with Cralla at her heels holding the threat of Daka's 
 coming over her head she was following the Beni 
 through the pitch-black, tunnel-like gateway of the 
 city, and in a few moments more was helping to place 
 Debenham into the hammock, oblivious of everything 
 but the wish to get him away from there with all pos 
 sible speed. 
 
 And there was not a moment lost. 
 
 Cralla's hoarse, fear-filled voice dominated every 
 thing, lending the proper sort of atmosphere and incen 
 tive to hasty flight, and Miss Severoid did not stop
 
 270 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 even to look around. Though they had no lamps she 
 did not think of it, but clinging to the hammock straps 
 she kept pace with the hurrying bearers whose eyes 
 were as good as a cat's in the dark urging them on 
 and on, always vaguely understanding that McClure 
 was somewhere behind. 
 Plymouth did not follow. 
 
 Very much surprised at everything confused by it 
 in fact having no knowledge of the reason for any 
 of the excitement, except that the place was Benin City 
 and that Daka was a name to fear, the whites of the 
 Kroo-boy's eyes gleamed spasmodically like a revolving 
 light Clutching the haft of his knife with a nervous 
 hand he waited for his master to come out, as he had 
 been told to do ; not because he was a hero exactly, but 
 because McClure had pounded obedience into him with 
 the weight of his good right fist. 
 
 Plymouth was just as afraid to go as he was to stay. 
 
 In a few minutes the lamp-boys, with their lanterns 
 relit, emerged from the tunnel-like hole in the wall. 
 
 "Where is Mas' MaClu'?" the Kroo-boy asked at 
 once and suspiciously, as the sound of Cralla's voice 
 was dying into the distance. 
 
 But the lamp-boys only grinned and sped after the 
 others, leaving Plymouth gaping and still more suspi 
 cious. When Ilora came out a little while later, sul 
 lenly and slowly, he leaped at her, and seizing her arm 
 in a grip that made her squeal, held his knife at her 
 throat. 
 
 "Where is Mas' MaClu'?" 
 
 Ilora drew a long, hissing breath. She had a 
 healthy horror of dying like that ; and she could feel 
 the point of the blade pricking her skin. 
 
 She had been trying to quiet her savage soul with 
 the belief that she did not care whether McClure was 
 sacrificed or not, and that the part she had played was
 
 THE RETURN 271 
 
 really something of which to be proud, since he loved 
 the smooth-skinned "white mammy." But she had 
 snatched his revolver from the Beni who had found it, 
 saying Cralla wanted it, without, however, having any 
 intention of giving it to the chief. 
 
 It was a toy and a fetish both, which she would play 
 with and worship and perhaps use. 
 
 Her hand, under cover of her overcloth, was upon 
 the butt at that moment, and Plymouth had no knowl 
 edge of how near to death he was as the girl, muttering 
 in Jackrie to gain time, drew the weapon slowly from 
 the waistband of her undercloth and, without bringing 
 it into plain sight, turned the muzzle straight at the 
 most of him. 
 
 But she did not shoot. She was afraid of the noise. 
 
 "Where is MaClu' ?" the Kroo-boy demanded again 
 in a hoarse whisper, his ears straining to catch the 
 faintest sound, either hostile or friendly. 
 
 "He fell down," Ilora answered jerkily, and 
 drew her head away a little from the knife point. 
 
 She spoke in Jackrie, with a few English words. 
 "Many men came and leaped upon him. The 'White 
 Mammy' and Chief Cralla and the lamp-boys ran. 
 But I waited a while and I found this see?" 
 
 She produced the revolver with such suddenness and 
 thrust it into Plymouth's abdomen with such force that 
 he gave vent to a thick grunt and simultaneously re 
 leased his grip upon Ilora's arm. 
 
 The girl sprang back a pace, grinning. She was 
 lithe as a puma and as swift, whereas the Kroo-boy 
 was squat and rather slow to move, both mentally and 
 physically. He stood stock-still, gathering his breath 
 and his senses, and tried to understand all that the 
 glinting weapon in Ilora's hand really meant. 
 
 Cralla's voice died away, and the city behind them 
 was silent as the tomb. The scurrying of a bush-cat
 
 272 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 through the underbrush, the frightened squeaking of 
 an infant monkey overhead and Plymouth's thick, ster 
 torous breathing were the only sounds that disturbed 
 that morbid quiet. 
 
 "Da Daka came and caught MaClu'?" the 
 Kroo-boy asked in Jackrie at last in a bated whisper, 
 staring stupidly and affrightedly at the girl. 
 
 "I think so. Many men came and jumped on his 
 back and the 'White Mammy' and Cralla ran away. I 
 waited a while, but I am but a woman, so I could do 
 naught for Mas' MaClu'. But I found this 'shoot- 
 palaver t'ing,' and I came away. Why do you threaten 
 me with your knife? Do you not like me a little?" 
 
 The Kroo-boy did not know whether he liked her 
 much or little just then. But he did know that she 
 had McClure's revolver in her hand, and that McClure 
 was in Benin City with "many men" sitting on his 
 back, and that if he, Plymouth, did not get away from 
 there in a great hurry, he would probably have "many 
 men" sitting on his back, too. Which was a prospect 
 he did not care for at all. 
 
 So, being nothing more than a Kroo-boy, who had 
 never heard of the boy who stood on the burning deck 
 and would not have understood or emulated his ex 
 ample if he had he did the only obvious thing for 
 him to do. 
 
 He shot one last, fear-filled look at the darkly omi 
 nous portals of the dread city, uttered a low, whining 
 wail for the peace of McClure's soul and bolted. 
 
 Ilora did not move for quite a while after that. A 
 contemptuous grin faded with the dying away of the 
 Kroo-boy's pattering feet. Her head sank between 
 her shoulders, her knees sagged and she slipped into a 
 huddling heap without a sound. There were no wail- 
 ings and no tears.
 
 THE RETURN 27$ 
 
 Hugging the cold steel of McClure's revolver to her 
 naked breasts, she writhed and twisted on the ground 
 in a fearsome, savage agony, in which the grinding of 
 her teeth and the sharp, hissing breaths she drew were 
 the only sounds she made. 
 
 It was not a delectable performance, and it was all 
 the more weird and ghastly because she was alone in 
 that shroud of silence and darkness. Even the infant 
 monkey overhead had stopped its plaintive squeaking, 
 perhaps to watch the queer human below, whose eyes 
 were ablaze and whose face was distorted in a hatred 
 that was not good to look upon. 
 
 She breathed strange and awful curses upon Cralla 
 and his house till it must surely have rocked upon its 
 foundations, and she tore Miss Severoid limb from 
 limb and cast her into the fire. Lying flat upon the 
 ground, Ilora watched the white mammy's pink-white 
 skin become black and shriveled, and grinned horribly 
 at the sight. 
 
 A lizard scurried in flight from the bush and ran 
 across her ankles. But she did not stir for several 
 minutes after that. In fact, her grin broadened and 
 she believed it a good omen, particularly if the lizard 
 had had a golden head and a blue-black tail. 
 
 That was the hope upon her mind as she rose slowly 
 to her feet and set off at a slouching gait in pursuit of 
 Cralla and Miss Severoid, both of whom, judging by 
 the look in the girl's eyes, were marked for slaughter. 
 
 Clinging to the hammock-straps, running a few 
 steps, then walking and running again, Miss Severoid 
 was nearer to Tulami than to Benin City before she 
 even became suspicious of the fact that McClure was 
 not "somewhere behind." She had gone on for a 
 while in utter darkness, and then, ages afterward, the
 
 274 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 lamp-boys came and led the way; which, of course, 
 helped to encourage the belief that McClure was 
 "somewhere behind." 
 
 And there was nothing very sudden about the man 
 ner in which the whole truth came home to her. It 
 was a gradual process, beginning with a few doubtful 
 looks behind. Then she saw Plymouth's squat figure 
 a little to Cralla's right, which led to a frightened 
 mental question, to alternating fears and hopes, and 
 finally to the whispered calling of McClure's name. 
 
 To which there was no answer. 
 
 So she called it again, louder this time, in case he 
 had not heard, and waited with bated breath for his 
 reply. 
 
 Cralla paid not the slightest heed, but came on at 
 the same driving pace, forcing the hammock-bearers to 
 keep step with him. He did not even smile at the 
 futility of Miss Se-.xroid calling for a man who was 
 in Daka's inhuman grasp which was infinitely worse 
 than if he were dead. 
 
 But Plymouth heard the white mammy call his mas 
 ter's name, and his sluggish mind struggled to decide 
 whether he should presume to tell her that McClure 
 was in "Benin Cit' with plenty men sitting on him 
 back." 
 
 Plymouth was somewhat afraid of the white 
 mammy, principally because he had seen that McClure 
 and Cralla and the white soldier-man named Maybrick 
 had always spoken to her very quietly, as if they were 
 afraid of her, too. So, of course, if they were afraid 
 of her, he, being only a Kroo-boy, was much more so. 
 
 "Mr. McClure!" 
 
 This time Miss Severoid stopped, tugged upon the 
 hammock-straps, and forced the bearers to follow her 
 example. 
 
 But only for a second. Cralla was so close behind
 
 THE RETURN 275 
 
 that he almost collided with them, and a harsh Beni 
 oath sent them forward again, dragging Miss Severoid 
 along whether or no. 
 
 "Stop!" It was very near a scream. "Stop, you 
 beasts! I won't go a step farther! Mr. McClure!" 
 
 The hammock-bearers stopped. So did the lamp- 
 boys and Plymouth and Cralla. The still figure in the 
 hammock moaned, and the whimpering cry of a fright 
 ened bush-puppy answered it. 
 
 Something large and yellow and spotted, with eyes 
 that burned green fire, crashed through the bush with 
 a terrifying, blood-curdling snarl of rage; plunged as 
 an arrow into the teeth of the very annoying lamps, 
 wiped one of them and the boy who held it from 
 its path like tissue-paper, and tore on into the bush 
 upon the other side, considerably more afraid of its 
 life even than Miss Severoid, who was so startled that 
 she could not utter a sound. 
 
 A scream died in her throat, and she knew the need 
 of McClure probably more than she ever had as she 
 swayed against the hammock and saw Cralla's head 
 man shed the light of his lantern upon the other lamp- 
 boy. His face was a sickening red blur, and he lay 
 upon his side in a crumpled heap, very, very still. 
 
 The startled and angry leopard's wild charge had 
 knocked the breath of life out of his body, and a 
 vicious side-sweep of its right foreclaws had torn half 
 of his face away. 
 
 And it was that, as a climax to all that had gone 
 before, that made Miss Severoid's heart come up into 
 her throat and choke her as the flickering light of the 
 solitary lantern went out, and she dropped into a 
 darkness that was the color of deep-red blood.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 THE AWAKENING 
 
 Miss SEVEROID had no knowledge of how she 
 reached Tulami; did not even know that Debenham 
 was carried there on Plymouth's broad back and she 
 was given his place in the hammock. 
 
 When things became tangible again the filtering 
 gray of the dawn had come, and she was lying in a 
 camp-bed in a stuffy little hut, with Ilora in the fore 
 ground and Cralla looming darkly behind her. 
 
 There was no sign of McClure or Plymouth or 
 Ralph, so that when the Jackrie girl, meek and mild 
 as a nun, tried to make her drink something that had 
 no taste she would have none of it. 
 
 Instead, with a riot of questions tumbling about in 
 her head, she sat up suddenly and swept the dingy place 
 with a single frightened glance. She heard a low, 
 wheezy moan from somewhere behind Cralla. 
 
 Springing up without a thought of the consequences, 
 she tottered dizzily past the chief, to sink heavily to 
 her knees beside the startled Plymouth. He was 
 kneeling by Debenham's side, applying cold cloths as 
 per directions to the invalid's fevered forehead. 
 
 Debenham was lying upon mats, but with a blanket 
 over him this time. Also, his tawny skin had given 
 way to its proper color or, rather, to a very pale yel 
 low which had surprised Plymouth very much, since 
 he had carried an unknown Jackrie into Tulami and 
 was now doing his clumsy best to nurse Marsden & 
 
 276
 
 THE AWAKENING 277 
 
 Co.'s vanished oil clerk back to consciousness. He 
 had not witnessed the transformation. 
 
 Debenham's eyes were terribly sunken, his cheeks 
 thin and wasted, his body hardly more than skin and 
 bones. But since his color had changed there seemed 
 to be a little more life in his face, though there was 
 still no recognition in his look. 
 
 A pillow had been placed under his head, and an 
 other helped to make matters easier for his shoulder, 
 the wound in which had opened again as a result of 
 the jolting he had received. But it had been properly 
 cleansed and dressed by a hand that had known what 
 it was about. 
 
 He had also been gifted a new suit of pajamas. 
 Mention of this is made partly because they fitted him, 
 and greatly to instance that when Clavering planned 
 he omitted nothing. 
 
 Miss Severoid could only guess who had wrought 
 these vast improvements. When the bulging of the 
 bandages betrayed that there was something wrong 
 with Ralph's shoulder she made an instant examination 
 and found that there was nothing she might have done 
 that had not already been done perhaps a little better. 
 
 So she simply knelt there for a while, biting her col 
 orless, trembling lips, and tried to understand things 
 better while she watched the spasmodic twitchings of 
 the boy's mouth and the dull, lifeless look in his eyes. 
 
 Then, taking the cooling cloth from Plymouth's 
 gnarled hands and placing it gently on Ralph's fore 
 head, she turned her head to question Cralla. He had 
 gone. 
 
 Ilora, however, was watching her with a quiet and 
 friendly interest dangerously friendly. There was 
 no malice in the girl's look not a trace of any prin 
 cipally because that was no time or place to show it. 
 She was sure that somewhere between Tulami and
 
 278 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Segwanga her chance would come as it had come be 
 fore though she had bungled it then and she had 
 no intention that there would be anything sudden about 
 Miss Severoid's demise. 
 
 In fact, she would have liked nothing better than to 
 make a night of it, just as she was sure that Daka 
 would get several evenings' amusement out of Mc- 
 Clure, who was big and strong and would last longer 
 than the average mortal. 
 
 Ilora did not believe, however, that she would be so 
 fortunate as to have one whole night of ecstatic joy at 
 the expense of Miss Severoid's smooth, pink and white 
 body. But she dreamed of an hour just an hour! 
 
 Then she would shoot Cralla through the head, 
 drink some of the clear white water out of a bottle she 
 would find in his black, tarpaulin-covered carrier's 
 pack, and drift into eternity, dragging Miss Severoid's 
 machete-hacked body behind her. 
 
 It was a glorious prospect, and one worth waiting 
 for. 
 
 "Where where is he?" Miss Severoid whispered 
 anxiously. 
 
 "Cralla go look carrier man," Ilora answered re 
 spectfully, and sounds of awakening life without 
 seemed to bear out the statement. 
 
 "And and Mr. McClure? Why doesn't he why 
 didn't he answer me when I called to him before" 
 she shivered "before it happened ?" 
 
 Ilora's face fell sympathetically. She shook her 
 head. 
 
 "Mas' MaClu' no here. He fall down in Benin Cit' 
 them time Daka come, and plenty man come and sit on 
 him back so he no fit to get up. I wait HT bit, but I 
 be so-so woman. I no fit to fight man. But I find 
 dis shoot-palaver t'ing and I bring it to you" and
 
 THE AWAKENING '279 
 
 here Ilora became ineffably simple " 'cause I t'ink 
 you like Mas' MaClu' HT bit no be so?" 
 
 And, producing McClure's revolver from the folds 
 of her cloth, she held it out apologetically to Miss Sev- 
 eroid. 
 
 Thereby she earned Plymouth's sluggish approval, 
 disarmed all suspicion against herself in the matter of 
 McClure's downfall, placed the revolver into hands 
 from which it could very easily be stolen when wanted, 
 eliminated the danger of Cralla finding it in her pos 
 session, and, most important of all, created a bond of 
 sympathy between herself and her mistress that would 
 tend to make the latter a trusting victim when the for 
 mer's trap was ready. 
 
 Ilora was not in Clavering's employ for nothing. 
 
 There was no strength or feeling in Miss Severoid's 
 fingers as they closed about the proffered weapon. 
 Fear and unbelief, and then a dull agony, came into 
 her face an agony that choked her. Her bloodless 
 lips parted stupidly, and her cheeks became hollow in 
 a moment. 
 
 She rose very slowly, holding her breath. 
 
 "He he's taken by Daka!" 
 
 "Yes'm! Daka come. He take Mas' MaClu' 
 'way." 
 
 Miss Severoid wavered a step or two, and an icy 
 chill made her shudder violently. Her arm passed 
 wearily across her eyes, and she groped a few uncer 
 tain feet; then stopped again and stood quite still so 
 very still and quiet that she might have been of marble 
 rather than of flesh and blood. 
 
 The cries of waking children, the scuffling of feet, 
 and the excited screech of men's voices were to her as 
 vague murmurings that came from a great distance. 
 
 Ilora shuffled toward the camp-bed and grinned as
 
 280 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 she made a pretense of rearranging the covers. 
 Plymouth took the cloth from Ralph's forehead and 
 replaced it with another. He was watching the "white 
 mammy" out of the corners of his eyes at the same 
 time, and looked rather frightened. 
 
 He saw her straighten and stiffen, and saw her lips 
 and teeth come together with such deliberate slowness 
 that there was no doubting the fact that she had come 
 to a decision of some sort. 
 
 When she turned to Ilora again there was no fear 
 or pain or any emotion whatsoever in her face. 
 
 "Tell Cralla I would like to speak to him, please." 
 
 Her voice was in keeping with her glance quiet 
 and decisive and unimpassioned. 
 
 Ilora looked as though she had made a serious mis 
 take, and she did not meet Miss Severoid's eyes. They 
 frightened her. 
 
 "Yes'm," she answered respectfully and slipped 
 noiselessly out; and her respectfulness in this instance 
 was not assumed. 
 
 Miss Severoid did not stir; did not even glance in 
 Ralph's direction. She knew that if she did she would 
 never retain the grip upon herself that was necessary 
 for what she had to do. 
 
 But the mental torment of these few minutes of 
 waiting was as nothing to what was to come. 
 
 Ilora came in again rather excitedly. 
 
 "Cralla no clere. He go 'way. I t'ink so he fear 
 you an' go fin' Mas' Claverin'." 
 
 Miss Severoid winced, and the steely blue in her 
 eyes gave way to a dull leaden color. But she uttered 
 no word of protest and displayed no impatience; just 
 put McClure's revolver away in her little uniform-case, 
 moved quietly to a camp-chair, seated herself and 
 waited. 
 
 There was nothing else for her to do ; only to wait
 
 THE AWAKENING 281 
 
 and to think. The thinking seemed likely to drive 
 her mad. 
 
 Whether Cralla had betrayed McClure into Daka's 
 hands was not certain, but whether he had or not she 
 knew very well that if McClure died in Benin City, she 
 would have his murder upon her conscience as long as 
 she lived. And she knew, too, that she had learned to 
 love the big, broad man, whose trusting, patient and 
 silent devotion had been even bigger and broader than 
 himself. 
 
 Of course, he had joined the expedition of his own 
 accord. She had not even asked him to accompany 
 her; that is, not in words. But she knew what her 
 eyes and her lips and her smiles had done. They had 
 done it deliberately, too, just as they had enrolled 
 Clavering into her service and betrayed Maybrick 
 into the outlaw's trap at Mayona. 
 
 She did not try to shuffle from under the burden of 
 her responsibility, made no excuses for herself, but 
 faced the whole truth and writhed under its lash much 
 more keenly than Ilora had done under the biting pun 
 ishment of Cralla's hippo-hide at Basanna. 
 
 And yet the torturing excoriations of conscience and 
 the sharp, knifelike stabs of pain that seemed to be 
 tearing her heart and soul to shreds were not unmixed 
 with mercy. For instance, she did not know that Mc 
 Clure had been the price paid for the pale-yellow, 
 wasted boy who lay in the far corner of the room, 
 moaning every little while as if to prove that he was 
 still alive. 
 
 Had she known that, the possibility is that she would 
 have gone quite mad, or at least have done something 
 very, very desperate during that terrible hour of wait 
 ing, the minutes of which were heaped like leaden 
 weights upon her shoulders, dragging her deeper and 
 deeper into the darkness of despair.
 
 282 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Her eyes were heavy with lack of sleep, but nothing 
 was further from her mind. The very mention of it 
 would probably have made her hysterical. 
 
 Once, and only once, did she glance in Ralph's direc 
 tion ; but that was enough, though she did not go to his 
 side in any hnste or frenzy. She just knelt beside him 
 quietly, and once more relieved Plymouth of his duties 
 as nurse. 
 
 "All right. Thank you. You may go out if you 
 care to. I'll manage." 
 
 "Yes'm." 
 
 The Kroo-boy rose and shuffled out with his hand 
 upon the haft of his knife. He was not at all sure of 
 his status since McClure was not there. 
 
 Ilora had gone out to prepare breakfast. 
 
 Ralph's meanings were becoming less wheezy, and 
 his breathing was just a little easier. There was also 
 a faint, a very faint, sign of life in his eyes. 
 
 Miss Severoid plied his forehead with cooling cloths 
 with a calm that was much colder than the water in 
 which the cloths were dipped. She watched the move 
 ment of his lips in silence, and once, looking at him 
 very intently, it was as if she were asking herself 
 whether or not he had been worth all that his freedom 
 had cost. 
 
 Apparently she doubted it, and the doubt evidently 
 hurt very much, because her mouth twisted with the 
 pain of it and her glance flinched and shifted quickly 
 and guiltily toward the door. 
 
 And then she heard a sharp, hissing sound and a 
 feeble, startled cry, and, turning her head swiftly, she 
 saw that the film had dropped from Ralph's eyes, and 
 that he was affrightedly trying to rise. 
 
 The moment she turned her head, however, his 
 struggles ceased. A nameless sound came from his 
 throat, and he stared at her as at a ghost.
 
 THE AWAKENING 283 
 
 Her look softened instantly, and her firm lips quiv 
 ered and broke in a smile that was filled with tears, 
 and her hand went out almost timidly and touched his 
 cheek. 
 
 "Ralph! Ralph, dear!" 
 
 Her voice was as the whispering of the leaves on a 
 summer night, and Ralph's answer was a hideous grin. 
 He thought it was part of his torment, and the screech 
 ing voices without lent color to the surmise. 
 
 "Ralph! Oh, boy, boy! Can't you see me? I've 
 come to take you home !" 
 
 A hollow groan answered her. The boy's eyes 
 searched her face wildly, and he tried desperately to 
 get a grip upon his tongue. 
 
 "Bess !" 
 
 The name came wheezily and fearfully from his 
 cracking throat, and in an instant later he knew that 
 she was real ^as the passionate warmth of her lips 
 pressed upon his own. 
 
 His good arm came weakly from beneath the covers 
 and his fingers tremblingly felt her shoulders. Then, 
 further assured that she was really there, the look of 
 terror in his face died out, and his tired eyelids slowly 
 drooped. 
 
 "Bess !" he whispered again, and again the proof of 
 her lips was there as, with the sound of distant sobbing 
 in his ears, he floated off into a new oblivion. 
 
 But this time he was asleep. 
 
 Neither of them saw Clavering in the doorway.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 THE RECKONING 
 
 THERE was a faint, flickering smile in the corners of 
 the outlaw's mouth and a quiet satisfaction in his look 
 that was not compatible with his cold-blooded betrayal 
 of McClure. 
 
 Dressed as he had been when Miss Severoid had 
 seen him at Mayona, there was an easy confidence in 
 his attitude and a peculiar something in his face which 
 accepted the denouement he had witnessed with a sub 
 lime toleration that laughed softly at it even while his 
 expression plainly said : 
 
 "There you are! I planned that. Pretty, isn't it?" 
 
 But he did not speak nor move till Miss Severoid, 
 raising her head again, looked sharply around and saw 
 him there. 
 
 Clavering was sure that he had never looked upon 
 any woman one-half so beautiful as she was then, in 
 spite of her tear-streaked cheeks. 
 
 Her great blue eyes were wide in astonishment, like 
 a child's, and glistening drops hung upon her long, 
 dark lashes like precious stones. Her lips, moist and 
 warm and dangerously tempting, trembled uncertainly 
 as she rose slowly to her feet, eying Clavering as 
 though she were not sure whether to be afraid of him 
 or not. 
 
 Certainly she was not afraid of him because of her 
 deep, almost fanatical, interest in Ralph Debenham, 
 the story of which may be told in a very few words. 
 
 284
 
 THE RECKONING 285 
 
 To begin with, Elizabeth Severoid was only a part 
 of her name. The rest of it was "Debenham," and, in 
 very truth, hackneyed as the phrase may be, she was 
 the only mother Ralph had ever known. In fact, this 
 story really began when Miss Severoid then known 
 as Bessie Debenham was seven years old when she 
 was passionately fond of dolls and given to spending 
 most of her time playing with other people's babies. 
 Because it was then that a perfectly new and wonderful 
 baby boy was delivered at the Debenham home one 
 truly dark and stormy night, when everybody was 
 asleep or should have been. That baby was Ralph 
 Debenham, and from that night onward little Bessie 
 Debenham's childhood ended. 
 
 The death of her mother a few days later emphasized 
 the fact, and though there was a sort of housekeeper- 
 nurse in the Debenham home for several years after 
 that, Ralph's real nurse and mother was his sister Bess. 
 Everything that she had had been lavished unstintingly 
 upon him. Year by year, her young-old hands had led 
 him through childhood to boyhood always standing 
 between him and the just and unjust punishments that 
 would have come his impulsive, tempestuous way 
 always giving without question and being absurdly 
 jealous of her privilege in that direction watching 
 him add years to his age and inches to his stature with 
 something akin to awe, yet never for a single moment 
 thinking of him as a day older than the day on which 
 she had taught him to walk. 
 
 So far an ordinary enough story, repeated every day 
 the world over. 
 
 When Ralph was twelve their father died, and be 
 fore very long it was evident that the boy was inclined 
 to accept the absence of parental restraint as a sort of 
 road to freedom. Which served only to intensify his 
 sister's passion for mothering him; and she was so
 
 286 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 busy keeping him out of trouble or getting him out 
 of it after he had succeeded in getting in that she 
 had no time at all to think of anything else. 
 
 Following her natural bent, she had taken up teach 
 ing as a profession, and, aided by a small annuity from 
 their father's meagre estate, had managed to give 
 Ralph, in the few succeeding years, the beginnings of 
 a technical education which he was rounding out in a 
 practical fashion when, from his sister's point of view, 
 the whole world became darker than the darkest night. 
 
 Employed as an apprentice mechanical engineer, 
 Ralph, always reckless and quick to anger, lost the 
 noted Debenham temper, which he had inherited from 
 his father, and punched a fellow-workman named 
 Saunders into some moving machinery, disabling him 
 for life. 
 
 Saunders had a wife and two small babies to sup 
 port, and while Ralph was spending an ignominious, 
 torturing year in prison, his sister spent an even more 
 painful year outside of it, trying to believe that the 
 truth was true! that Ralph her Ralph was actually 
 in jail! 
 
 That year, however, gave her opportunity for more 
 freedom of action than she had ever had since the day 
 of Ralph's birth, and when that young man was re 
 leased from prison, he discovered his sister who had 
 always been quite clever in amateur theatricals teach 
 ing elocution in her spare time and conducting a full 
 blown school of dramatic art, simply because the 
 Saunders babies had to eat ! 
 
 It is doubtful if she thought about the babies' mother 
 and father at all ! 
 
 This dramatic phase of her career was responsible 
 for the "shepherdess" McClure had coveted. She had 
 been filling a gap in the cast of "As You Like It" by
 
 THE RECKONING 287 
 
 playing Phebe, and liked the costume well enough to be 
 photographed in it. 
 
 Ralph did not like the school of dramatic art idea 
 very much, particularly when he learned of the nature 
 of the necessity that had given it birth. Already 
 marked with an indelible shame and, quite convinced 
 that he was lost to society forever, yet another fire now 
 seared his soul; but, gulping down an impulsive and 
 impotent protest against everything in general, he de 
 termined to get some work to do, so that he could 
 give all his wages to Saunders's wife, "even if I 
 starve!" With which nineteen-year-old illogical de 
 termination he proceeded to look for the hardest thing 
 in the world to find some one who would pay a jail 
 bird wages for doing anything. 
 
 Nevertheless he found it. 
 
 The fever-ridden West Coast of Africa has been 
 kind to such as he many times and, being in Liverpool 
 at the time, he encountered Marsden & Co. and other 
 West Coast firms who were nearly always looking for 
 white flesh and blood and bones that could stand fairly 
 erect, read, write and count at least to a hundred. 
 Marsden & Co. had made him the best offer, and be 
 fore his sister knew anything about it, he had signed a 
 contract and bound himself to serve the company faith 
 fully and well for a period of two years for the sum 
 of eighty pounds sterling per annum "all found." 
 
 Eighty pounds sounded munificent to Ralph then. 
 It was just eighty pounds more than any one else 
 would pay him, and he felt that if he paid Saunders's 
 wife a pound a week, she could surely manage to exist 
 on that till he was earning more. His intentions were 
 truly excellent. 
 
 There was, of course, the inevitable scene between 
 his sister and him; but the contract was there, signed,
 
 288 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 sealed and delivered ; and as there was no way out, his 
 sister, bravely if very dubiously, made up her mind to 
 allow him to go. 
 
 He sailed. 
 
 That the date happened to be April i may have had 
 some significance; but in any case every week for a 
 year Marsden & Co., Liverpool, were authorized to 
 pay Mrs. Saunders, London, the sum of one pound, 
 which was to be charged to the salary account of Ralph 
 Debenham, assistant at Segwanga. Ralph had no 
 knowledge of the fact that the money finally reached 
 his proud sister's lap, and was being saved for him for 
 the proverbial "rainy day." 
 
 "Miss Severoid" had not allowed Saunders and his 
 family to depend upon her impulsive brother, but, con 
 tinuing her dramatic work, had permanently made over 
 one-half of her annuity to them. 
 
 And then one African mail-day, she received a letter 
 from Marsden & Co. bearing the dreadful tidings that 
 Ralph had completely disappeared. Finding that she 
 could get no satisfactory explanation from the firm or 
 from the Colonial Office, she decided upon the perilous 
 and almost impossible task of going out to Segwanga 
 to institute an investigation upon her own account. 
 
 Difficulties had confronted her at every turn appar 
 ently insurmountable difficulties that would have 
 crushed the spirits of a less determined soul. There 
 were but two ways in which she could enter Nigeria 
 either as an employee or in the company of a husband, 
 who would necessarily have to be employed there. 
 
 And she was actually seriously contemplating mar 
 riage with a Calabar commissioner when she read in a 
 morning paper an appeal for lady missionaries to go 
 out to West Africa to lead the benighted heathen out 
 of darkness. 
 
 Promptly adopting the name of Severoid, she made
 
 THE RECKONING 289 
 
 instant application for a place in Nigeria, and a reply 
 came asking her to call at the office of the secretary of 
 the Foreign Mission Society with references, et cetera. 
 She could produce no references of the sort the so 
 ciety's secretary wanted, but she made love to his office- 
 boy, to his clerks, to him, and finally to the chairman 
 of the examining board; and, with her heart ready to 
 break in two, flashed the magnetism of her smile upon 
 that distinguished gentleman and drew his casting 
 vote. 
 
 Then she confided in him, very, very quietly, telling 
 him just why she wished to go to West Africa and 
 where ; and because he was that sort of man, she sailed 
 for Segwanga with scarcely any trouble or delay. 
 
 The worthy chairman, however, did not know that 
 she had been conducting a school of dramatic art, or 
 that her brother had spent a year in jail. She was 
 more afraid of the effect of the latter fact than of the 
 former, hence her fear of detection when McClure had 
 told her that he knew she had been a "shepherdess." 
 As her dramatic work was so closely associated in her 
 mind with the jail-term that had really been responsible 
 for it, she had been desperately afraid that McClure 
 must also know why she had been a "shepherdess." 
 If he knew, it did not seem at all impossible that others 
 might also know; which meant that if the truth leaked 
 out, she would be recalled. 
 
 Until she had met Clavering and had heard of his 
 deeds and powers, she had not dared to hope for any 
 thing, but she felt that the less every one knew about 
 her real intentions the better, because if Ralph had 
 come to any serious harm, another hue and cry was 
 not likely to disclose anything more than the first one, 
 particularly in a country like the Niger Delta. 
 
 Clavering's advent, however, had made almost any 
 thing possible, and, quick to realize that the more
 
 290 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "mystery" she assumed, the more interesting she be 
 came, she had deliberately allowed him and every one 
 else to believe what they pleased, because the continued 
 devotion and curiosity of men who might help was 
 very necessary to her. 
 
 And now, facing Clavering in that musty little hut, 
 \vith the screeching of Tulami's unclean population 
 interjecting her thoughts and fears and pale-gray 
 hopes, everything she had done to achieve her purpose 
 rose before her to emphasize the fact that the hour she 
 had dreaded most had come. 
 
 The shadowy smile of triumph playing upon Claver- 
 ing's lips a smile that lurked in the black mystery of 
 his eyes was an ominous quantity that was difficult to 
 apprehend or cope with. Dabbing her eyes and nose 
 hurriedly with her ever-ready handkerchief, she cast a 
 fleeting look in Ralph's direction, then faced Clavering 
 again with a suddenness that was startling. 
 
 "He he's my brother. You you know that?" 
 Clavering inclined his head gravely. 
 "I guessed it. You see, he told me the story of why 
 he left home and, of course, you were in it. He said 
 you were very beautiful" Clavering' s eyes softened 
 in keeping with his tone "and that you had been more 
 of a mother to him than a sister. So that it really 
 wasn't much of a trick to guess who you were, particu 
 larly after I had learned that, aside from the gifts 
 the gods have given you, the real secret of your power 
 over all of us was just motherliness." 
 
 Miss Severoid and to avoid confusion of any sort 
 we might as well continue to call her that, just as every 
 one else in the Delta always did was startled, and in 
 spite of herself, showed it. Clavering's voice was too 
 low too softly modulated for comfort, and she did 
 not care for sentiments of that sort coming from him. 
 They were too revolutionary suggesting that he
 
 THE RECKONING 291 
 
 might be expecting her to "reform" him, and that he 
 might become correspondingly maudlin in his "attack." 
 
 Which would not be likely to do McClure any good ; 
 and the knifelike stabbings of conscience did not allow 
 her to forget the trader for a moment. 
 
 She did not wish to forget him. His fate and her 
 own heart's ease in the future were synonymous. 
 Feeling that his rescue from Daka's hands depended 
 upon her alone, she knew that she would have to 
 screen her real sensations from Clavering's eyes, and 
 handle him with gloves of the smoothest sort. 
 
 Looking toward Ralph again instinctively, afraid 
 that the noise outside would wake him, she saw that he 
 slept quite peacefully. Then, mustering the talents 
 with which she had been gifted, she faced the outlaw 
 again. 
 
 "Ralph told you the story why he left home?" she 
 asked with a note of incredulity in her voice. 
 
 "He did" very quietly. "Told me of his experi 
 ence with the law and of his efforts to get work after 
 ward. I tried to make a companion of him, but he 
 would have none of it. So Cralla, to protect himself, 
 sold him to Daka. That was none of my business. 
 I can't afford to be sentimental unless there is a good 
 and sufficient reason for it." 
 
 He looked at Miss Severoid very pointedly, then 
 came a little nearer. 
 
 "Then you lied to me, and Cralla lied, too, when 
 he said that Ralph had asked to be sold to Daka?" 
 
 Clavering shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Um well yes, I suppose so. Necessity, you 
 know, is the mother of invention. I had to get you to 
 trust Cralla, which you wouldn't have done if you had 
 known that he had sold your brother into slavery for 
 a mess of pottage. But the fact is that he" nodding 
 toward Ralph "tried to bribe Cralla with half of that
 
 292 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 five thousand that's offered for me to induce the chief 
 to show him the easiest way to get a pot-shot at me. 
 And Cralla kidnaped him. That's the whole story a 
 matter purely between the boy and Cralla. I inter 
 fered solely upon your account. You know that. 
 You've known it from the beginning." 
 
 He looked directly at her, and paused while his 
 hand went blindly in search of his cigarette case. 
 
 "Well; what's your answer?" 
 
 Miss Severoid smiled. 
 
 "Is that a proposal or just a plain threat ?" 
 
 Clavering tapped a cigarette upon the case and 
 seemed to pay no attention to her query. 
 
 "I have done all I said I would do," he continued 
 easily and in a manner that did not indicate his feelings 
 at all. "I have made it possible for you to enter Benin 
 City and come away again with him. I have shown 
 you all that you have seen purposely, just to make you 
 understand at this moment that you are both helplessly 
 in my hands, to do with as I will. And, knowing that, 
 I want you also to understand that you are under no 
 compulsion to sacrifice yourself upon the altar of grati 
 tude. I don't want your gratitude. I want you!" 
 
 Miss Severoid was startled ; more than that, she was 
 afraid that Clavering was using weapons that were 
 keener than compulsion would have been weapons 
 that made her feel rather small and mean and hypo 
 critical. 
 
 "I " She met the quiet look he gave her with a 
 sudden effort, and the knifelike stabbing in her heart 
 gave her renewed deliberation. "You mean you want 
 me to stay in this dreadful country?" she asked with a 
 soft plaintiveness that became her very well, and quite 
 as if she would be willing to stay with him almost any 
 where else. 
 
 Clavering lit his cigarette, picked up two camp-
 
 THE RECKONING 293 
 
 chairs, and strolled with them to the window-hole, so 
 that the smoke would not be likely to bother the in 
 valid. His manner was most annoyingly indifferent. 
 
 "Let's sit over here and see the sights. They're 
 most unclean; but that doesn't matter. Er no I 
 don't wish to stay in this dreadful country. It's too 
 oh, well, it's everything that isn't very nice. Sit down, 
 won't you ?" 
 
 With another glance toward Ralph, Miss Severoid 
 sat down. 
 
 She did not like Clavering's mood in the least. It 
 was too matter-of-fact ; so much so that even the view 
 through the window did not disturb her at all. Yet it 
 was a brutal picture filthy and heathenish and nakedly 
 vicious. 
 
 "Then where?" she began haltingly. 
 
 "Australia, South Africa, Canada no, Canada's too 
 cold. But there's lots of rogm in the world for us 
 three, and he" nodding toward Ralph again "can't 
 live in England comfortably. I think Sydney would 
 be all right, or Johannesburg." 
 
 His hand darted out as a snake strikes and closed 
 over Miss Severoid's with a sudden pressure that made 
 her gasp with the pain of it. 
 
 "Which is it to be?" 
 
 His eyes bored into the back of her mind like gim 
 lets and put a clamp upon her tongue, so that she could 
 not lie or shuffle or even bring a smile to her assistance. 
 There was something about him that fascinated even 
 while it frightened her, and she simply looked at him 
 in a dull, unhappy sort of way that plainly annoyed 
 him. 
 
 "Why don't you answer ? I'm not compelling you to 
 do anything you do not wish to do. I am not issuing 
 an ultimatum, though I think you expected one, didn't 
 you ?" He leaned a little nearer to her. "Something
 
 294 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 really devilish, like keeping you in Benin City unless 
 you promised to love, honor, and obey me ? That's all 
 nonsense. You'd die indecently in this rotten climate 
 in less than no time, and I'd have just that much more 
 on my conscience." 
 
 He smiled rather unpleasantly as if he knew quite 
 well what she was thinking about his conscience. 
 Miss Severoid, who was not at all accustomed to the 
 sensation, sat quite still, hardly daring to breath, and 
 feeling that he was taking an unfair advantage of her 
 by being so astoundingly magnanimous about every 
 thing. 
 
 "I've said you can go back to England if you care 
 to," he went on quietly, and though the pressure of his 
 fingers relaxed a little, there was a glow in his eyes 
 that might portend anything. "And I've protected 
 you taking care that there is nothing for which the 
 government will be likely to hold you responsible when 
 you go down-river. You have nothing to fear, and I 
 sha'n't go with you if you don't wish me to. I'm 
 simply giving up all this because I'm tired of it tired 
 of the power and the pleasure and the greasy, naked 
 devilishness of it. You've shown me the way, that's 
 all." 
 
 Miss Severoid laughed a stupid, hysterical little 
 sound that surprised herself more than it did Clavering. 
 
 She did not know why she had laughed. Every 
 thing was confused, and she felt very cold and hope 
 lessly alone. Had she not laughed, she would have 
 screamed. 
 
 "You you're giving this all up!" Her voice was 
 as dead as the look upon her face. She spoke just for 
 the sake of saying something with a misty vision of 
 Clavering trailing her like Nemesis along Bond Street. 
 
 And Clavering seemed to guess exactly what she 
 thought.
 
 THE RECKONING 295 
 
 He threw his half-finished cigarette out of the win 
 dow with a gesture of impatience, then leaning toward 
 her suddenly, his voice changed a little and became 
 thinner. 
 
 "I suppose if I were to tell you that you've won, not 
 because you were clever, but because the motherliness 
 that's in you awakened me to the fact that I have a 
 soul, you'd laugh at me? Oh, yes! I have a soul! 
 Pretty ragged, perhaps, yet a soul and I love you, too. 
 You don't believe that either, do you? You think I 
 am hopelessly rotten at the core. But that's because 
 you don't know what this country can do to a man. 
 
 "It feeds upon his mind and tunes his nerves to 
 screeching point makes Simon Legrees out of raw 
 youngsters and hell-fiends out of grown men. And 
 then they go home to paved streets and a white wife, 
 and wonder how they ever did the things they think 
 nothing of doing out here; ugly things that would 
 sicken you just to hear of them. And a year in civili 
 zation with you would make me as respectable as a 
 bank-clerk." 
 
 He laughed, but the sound had a squeaky, hysterical 
 note in it. 
 
 "Why do you look at me like that? Think it rather 
 funny that I should want to be decent ?" 
 
 He released her hand as suddenly as he had seized it, 
 and rising abruptly, stood over her like a threat, his 
 eyes glowing out of their pale setting like smoldering 
 coal. 
 
 She did not move or speak ; could not. A numbing 
 hopelessness held her as in a trance, staring up at him 
 rather stupidly. 
 
 There was a certain desperation in his manner, too, 
 that she could not understand. An ashen gray pallor 
 was spreading slowly over his cheeks. When he 
 turned abruptly and strode toward the door she did
 
 296 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 not know that it was because every nerve and sinew in 
 his passion-racked body was drawn tight as a violin 
 string that he knew that if he stood there, looking 
 down into the wondering blue of her eyes and upon 
 the tempting red of her parted lips, something would 
 surely snap and he would not be responsible for what 
 happened afterward. 
 
 But Miss Severoid did not know that. She did 
 not know that most of his sang froid was a pose ; nor 
 had she any knowledge of the form his relaxation took 
 when the man or the devil beneath showed through 
 the veneer with which she had become acquainted. 
 
 Her glance followed him in bewilderment. Things 
 had all gone wrong. She had expected passion and 
 threats, and perhaps a little boisterous love-making; 
 an attitude she could meet and play with for Mc- 
 Clure's sake. Instead, there was an unapproachable 
 calm a simple offer of marriage and a simpler inti 
 mation that she do just as she pleased about it. He 
 was going to give up his lawless life, anyway. 
 
 All of which tacitly intimated that McClure was to 
 be left to the mercy of Daka and that there was no need 
 to say any more upon that matter. The trader was 
 out of it ended done for! 
 
 Her breath caught sharply. Glancing fearfully to 
 ward Ralph again, then out to where Plymouth sat 
 among the Jackrie carriers, lazily smoking his pipe, she 
 rose softly and tiptoed to Clavering's side, desperate 
 and determined, yet with an expression of childlike 
 simplicity upon her face that would have melted the 
 heart of the Sphinx, if she had one. 
 
 But the tips of her fingers had barely touched Clav 
 ering's arm when he spun round sharply and with such 
 a sudden flash of fire in his eyes that she drew quickly 
 away from him with a little gasp of surprise and fear. 
 
 "Don't !" His voice was strangely thick and hoarse,
 
 THE RECKONING 297 
 
 and there was a strange whine of pleading in it she had 
 never heard before. "Go back! Great God, can't 
 you see ? Can't you " 
 
 Yes, she could see now, and wondered why she had 
 not seen that madness in his face before. His cheeks 
 were the color of parchment, and, with his lips drawn 
 back from his teeth, he closely and hideously resembled 
 a grinning death's head. 
 
 She shrank from him involuntarily; and when he 
 took two rapid strides toward her, her knees shook and 
 her mouth opened as though she would scream. 
 
 But no sound came. 
 
 He stopped short as if the possibility of her scream 
 ing frightened him a little. Then he looked at her for 
 a few moments smiling a terrible smile that made 
 an icy chill race down her spine. 
 
 "You've kissed me, lied to me, and played with me !" 
 The words came thickly through a gathering in his 
 throat. "I've just been useful a mere necessary pup 
 pet in your little game of life. And now that you've 
 won, I'm simply a person with an ugly reputation, unfit 
 to mingle with you in decent society. 
 
 "Why don't you speak?" His voice rose an octave 
 or two. "Why don't you tell the truth ? It's nothing 
 new to me. I've seen it in your eyes from the begin 
 ning. Those eyes of yours have haunted me since the 
 first time I saw them. They've looked through and 
 through me measured me for what I am seen the 
 blackness and hell inside of me used me and laughed 
 at me called me a fool sneered at me and loathed 
 me when my back's been turned ! 
 
 "My mother had eyes like those angel's eyes in a 
 she-wolf's head and she " 
 
 He stopped, and, his mouth twisting hideously, 
 teeth gritting, his whole face became suddenly dis 
 torted in demoniacal fury.
 
 298 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "Damn them ! I'll" 
 
 His voice screeched and cracked, and his right arm 
 rose with startling swiftness as if to strike the steady 
 blue of Miss Severoid's eyes from his sight. 
 
 A harsh scream came from Ralph's corner. 
 
 Clavering's head jerked upward as though the sound 
 had been an upper-cut, and his descending arm halted 
 foolishly in mid air. His was the face of a man who 
 has awakened from a ghastly dream, and the white 
 heat of his passion went out like a snuffed candle. 
 
 Miss Severoid also heard her brother's cry, and it 
 took the deadly numbness out of her limbs instantly. 
 Staggering back a step or two, she faced about and 
 through the blur before her eyes saw Ralph staring 
 wildly at them, doing his best to raise himself from the 
 pillows. 
 
 "Don't, boy! Itit's all right. It's nothing at 
 all!" 
 
 She sank down beside him, murmuring soothing 
 words and smiling through her tears and her terror; 
 and when she had pacified him a little and dared look 
 around again, Ilora was bringing in hot water and 
 Clavering had gone. 
 
 Ilora did not look as if she was disappointed about 
 anything. 
 
 But she was.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 THE WAGER 
 
 CURIOUSLY enough, previous to his Satanic outburst 
 of passion, Miss Severoid had not been in the least 
 afraid of Clavering in a physical sense. She had be 
 lieved that her influence over him was strong enough 
 to keep him within the bounds of decency. 
 
 But after that flash of fiendishness to which he had 
 treated her, her attitude toward him underwent a 
 change that was almost a revolution. Though she felt 
 sure that his next mood would be an apologetic one, 
 she doubted whether, by the simple persuasion of her 
 eyes and lips and voice she could induce him to effect 
 McClure's release from Benin City. 
 
 Which, apart from getting Ralph to sleep again, was 
 her sole object in life just then. 
 
 Consequently, breakfast was a mockery; one mo 
 ment dull and leaden in despair, the next quivering in 
 anticipation of Covering's return. The very thought 
 of his coming back made her tremble ; but the thought 
 that he might not come back at all made her cold. 
 
 She needed him, yet was afraid to make him useful ; 
 feared him, yet shivered to think of what her plight 
 would be without him. 
 
 She was thankful, however, for the mercy that 
 Ralph went to sleep again without asking too many 
 questions. He was too weak for that, and as the 
 noise of the early morning hours died down very per 
 ceptibly, she was thankful for that, too. It was as if 
 
 299
 
 300 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 the village, barbarous as it was, had realized that it 
 had an invalid on its hands and was acting accordingly. 
 
 The boy moaned every now and then, and his sister 
 watched over him, tight-lipped and dry of eye, with 
 a pained but thoughtful expression upon her face as 
 she desperately tried to think of something that might 
 make McClure's release from Daka's clutches interest 
 ing to Clavering. 
 
 Which was a problem in psychology equal to the 
 "Asses' Bridge." 
 
 Just a few minutes before Clavering came in again, 
 she found something ; a desperate chance that made her 
 shiver to think of it. 
 
 Clavering's entrance was very quiet, his face passive 
 and his manner not in the least apologetic. One would 
 never have believed that he and the man of an hour 
 before were the same. In fact, the difference was so 
 great that a physician would probably have asked him 
 the name of the opiate he used. 
 
 And Clavering could have told him, too. 
 
 Miss Severoid observed the change in him at once, 
 and drew a deep and silent breath of relief that ex 
 tended to the very soles of her shoes. But as his 
 attitude seemed to consider the incident of his tem 
 porary madness closed, and that there was nothing 
 more to be said about it, that did not suit her purpose 
 in the least. 
 
 Ilora shuffled out the moment he came in, and Miss 
 Severoid, who was kneeling by Ralph's side, looked up 
 and asked casually. 
 
 "Apologies I suppose?" 
 
 Clavering rubbed his perspiring hands on his hand 
 kerchief, coolly and carefully. 
 
 "No. I'm sorry if I frightened you but not for 
 anything I said. I have nothing to retract." 
 
 "I see. But the next time you want to display your
 
 THE WAGER 301 
 
 villainous temper, don't do it so loudly. Not that I 
 am in the least afraid of you or of the noise you make. 
 But you wakened the boy." 
 
 Clavering bit his nether lip. He felt as a fighter 
 feels when, carefully guarding his face, he is hit in the 
 stomach. 
 
 "Oh, I'm sorry. But these beasts outside are a little 
 quieter, are they not? I tried to make them so." 
 
 "Thank you," rising slowly and facing him again. 
 "I've noticed they were not screaming so much. What 
 did you expect me to do the last time you were in 
 here? Throw myself at your feet and sob all over 
 your shoe-laces?" 
 
 She went nearer to him smiling. 
 
 "Don't be stupid. And please don't swear at my 
 eyes again. I don't like that very much. Besides, 
 when you lose your temper like thai, you become quite 
 fiendish, and you don't look a bit pretty. The next 
 time you feel that way have a mirror handy. That 
 should cure you." 
 
 Clavering had no defense. ' At least he offered none. 
 His expression was trying to be tolerant and indiffer 
 ent, so Miss Severoid hurried on before it became too 
 much so. 
 
 "Neither did I like the terribly respectable way you 
 spoke about Sydney and Johannesburg. That was 
 oh ! I don't know what to think about it. But it wasn't 
 you. I expected you to treat me to something really 
 desperate to carry me off to Timbuctu or some such 
 place and and you want to be as respectable as a 
 bank clerk!" 
 
 Her smile became a low, mirthful laugh that stung. 
 Clavering winced and his eyes began to burn again. 
 
 "That is the sort of proposal I might expect from 
 Mr. McClure," Miss Severoid went on tantalizingly. 
 "Staid, orthodox, every-day love-making.
 
 302 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 "But, by the way, what has become of Mr. McClure? 
 I've been so worried about the boy and your ideas of 
 reform that I haven't had a chance to ask. Ilora 
 brought me his revolver and told me a silly story about 
 him being left behind in Benin City. But you 
 wouldn't allow that, would you?' 
 
 She was very near to Clavering then, looking half 
 seriously, half jokingly up into his face ; and he could 
 not meet her eye-to-eye. The world without drifted 
 farther and farther away. 
 
 "She brought you his revolver?" Covering's voice 
 was low and a little hoarse. "What did she say 
 when she brought it?" 
 
 Miss Severoid told him very simply what Ilora had 
 said, and, taking hold of the third button of his coat 
 in the naive way she had, trifled with it absently as 
 she spoke. 
 
 "She brought me the revolver because she thought 
 I liked Mr. McClure. Wasn't that queer?" 
 
 And Clavering smiled in spite of himself. Ilora's 
 cleverness in diverting suspicion from herself appealed 
 to him. 
 
 But he did not know how altogether clever she had 
 been ; nor did he know that she was standing just out 
 side the door, gathering a fair understanding of all 
 that was said. 
 
 "Why are you smiling?" Miss Severoid asked 
 quickly. "Because the girl thought I liked Mr. Mc 
 Clure ? It may be queer that she should have thought 
 so, but there isn't anything very funny in it, is there? 
 I do like him, partly because he is one of the few men 
 who isn't afraid of you. He laughs at you, in fact. 
 He's said time and again that he'd shoot y< 
 sight, and .once, when I asked him if he wasn't afraid 
 you'd shoot first, he laughed and told me it would be 
 rather interesting to know whether you were quicker
 
 THE WAGER 303 
 
 at that sort of thing than he was. Do you think you 
 are?" 
 
 Her lips were teasing him, even as her eyes and 
 voice challenged, and the quick response that came 
 into Clavering's face was surprising. 
 
 But in subtly creating the question Miss Severoid 
 did not know of a previous contest that had taken 
 place behind Marsden & Co.'s powder store; an inci 
 dent Clavering was not likely to forget as long as he 
 lived. And though he was quite sure that Daka would 
 take ample revenge for him, the satisfaction would not 
 be nearly so keen as if he squared accounts himself. 
 
 "He said that, did he?" Clavering's tone was 
 thoughtful, and even as his hands came out and closed 
 about Miss Severoid' s arms, there was nothing boister 
 ous in his action. His mind was following the trail 
 of a new possibility. 
 
 "And what do you think?" 
 
 Miss Severoid pouted deliciously and made no at 
 tempt to gain release ; not even though Ralph moaned 
 again and threatened to awake. 
 
 "Um well I'm not sure," she said doubtfully. 
 "But I told Mr. McClure that if the chance ever came 
 for a test, you wouldn't be afraid of it. Was I right ? 
 Would you be afraid to to go out into the bush there 
 with him and stalk each other until well I've read 
 of men doing that?" 
 
 Clavering searched her face as with a microscope, 
 and there was an eagerness in his own that was difficult 
 for Miss Severoid to understand. He did not speak, 
 and the seconds were each a thousand silent years to 
 his tempter, who was playing a very desperate chance 
 for all it was worth. 
 
 "Wh why don't you answer me?" she asked at 
 last impatiently. "I I gracious! You you are 
 afraid!"
 
 304 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 She drew out of the grip of his hands very slowly 
 and though there wasn't a sign of fear in the outlaw's 
 face, her eyes grew wide in astonishment. 
 
 "I I why! I thought a man like you would be 
 a real gambler a man who constantly took chances 
 like that!" 
 
 Clavering's smile of derision wasn't very healthy, 
 but he was not thinking of McClure at all. Only of 
 what Daka would have to say afterward; and he 
 wanted to be sure that it would not matter to him what 
 Daka said or thought or did. 
 
 "Why should I gamble again, when I've won?" he 
 asked quietly. 
 
 "Won what?" 
 
 "The right to take you or let you go." 
 
 Miss Severoid's eyes flashed suddenly and she drew 
 away a few paces more laughing at him. 
 
 The sound was not a pleasant one. There was no 
 mirth in it, and she seemed to be having difficulty in 
 getting her breath. 
 
 "You win! You you didn't win anything. 
 Daka and all those other beasts won it for you. You 
 wouldn't meet McClure face to face and tell him what 
 you have told me now. He he'd kill you ! And you 
 know it, too. That was why you got those creatures 
 of yours to to " 
 
 She shuddered, and the thought of what might have 
 happened to McClure seemed to fill her throat. 
 
 "\Yh what have you done to him? Where is he? 
 Do you think I could ever get any pleasure out of my 
 brother's life if I thought McClure had been stabbed in 
 the back in the dark? And and you come to me 
 after after a thing like that and say that you have a 
 right to take me or let me go just just because you've 
 put him out of the way! You you're a coward! 
 Just a cowardly beast who "
 
 THE WAGER 305 
 
 "Stop!" 
 
 The word was like a pistol shot, and Clavering was 
 standing over her, not threateningly, but quietly; the 
 quiet of a man who has reached a decision. 
 
 "That will do. And let's drop these subterfuges 
 once and for all and understand each other. 
 
 "You're my woman mine ! And you've been mine 
 since that first time I held you in my arms and you 
 made me a present of my life. I told you then that 
 the word good-by had no place between you and me, 
 and it sha'n't have. Do you understand me?" 
 
 Miss Severoid was not at all sure. She felt very 
 cold and her cheeks were chalky white; and she 
 thought, for a moment or two, that she was going to 
 sink to the floor at Clavering's feet. Then the dizzi 
 ness passed, but when Ralph moaned restlessly she 
 scarcely heard him. Tulami had ceased to exist. 
 
 "You you don't deny that you betrayed McClure 
 to Daka!" she gasped desperately. "And yet you ex 
 pect me to to go away with you as if as if " 
 
 Her hand went out as though to ward him off, and 
 her voice trailed away to a hoarse, tense whisper. 
 
 "You you're not a white man! You've lived 
 among these these animals so long that you that 
 you oh ! you must be mafl!" 
 
 "No, hardly that yet," Clavering returned easily, 
 speaking in a strangely quiet voice that did not fit his 
 attitude or the things he said. "I love you, that's all 
 and my answer is that you are hoping I will save 
 McClure and bring him back to you!" He smiled 
 an effort that mocked her hopes and laid them bare. 
 "And I hate your sandy-haired friend. When Cralla 
 struck him across the eyes with his hippo-hide, I was 
 glad, not because of his pain, but because he could not 
 see you!" A pause. There was just the faintest hint 
 of savagery in his smile now. "Once upon a time I
 
 306 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 would have laughed at the man who could possibly 
 think as much of any woman as to really enjoy a 
 rival's blindness, and, before you came, I used to have 
 an honest admiration for McClure. In cold blood I 
 suppose I admire him even more now than I ever did, 
 but I also hate him most damnably simply because 
 he stands between you and me because I know that 
 he will always stand there whether he lives or dies !" 
 
 Miss Severoid looked away from him in a bewilder 
 ment that made speech impossible for a little while. 
 And her whole attitude changed. It had to. She was 
 not acting now. 
 
 "And and you betrayed him to Daka for that! 
 Wouldn't give him even a fighting chance for his life 
 because you because you thought that I that I " 
 she balked at the truth and went around it quickly 
 desperately. "Why don't you give him a chance? A 
 white man's chance to fight you like a white man? 
 Not that I like to think of sending two men at each 
 other's throats like dogs, but it seems to be the only 
 thing you can understand. 
 
 "Take him out of the hands of that scum meet 
 him face to face and tell him the things you have told 
 me, and and I I'll go with you anywhere!" 
 
 The last of it was only a breath, as if she were afraid 
 he might hear the sudden offer she made and would 
 accept it. But there was nothing in her eyes that told 
 of the shrinking horror she felt at the very thought of 
 being called upon to make the sacrifice. They met 
 Clavering's so steadily that his glance shifted and 
 strayed guiltily to where Ralph lay moaning and 
 threatening at any moment to awake. 
 
 The outlaw's mouth tightened. 
 
 "And if I gave him that chance met him face to 
 face and killed him you'd hate me more than you do 
 now," he said in a wonderfully steady voice. "I'd
 
 THE WAGER 307 
 
 have to kill him, too not because I hate him, but be 
 cause he'd surely kill me if I didn't. And you know 
 you'd never go with me because you wanted to. You'd 
 hate me and you'd fight like a she- wolf every step we 
 took. And you'd do for me at the finish. You know 
 that, don't you ?" 
 
 "Not if you gave him a fair chance," came the sur 
 prisingly clear and steady answer. "I'd rather stay 
 here with an outlaw who was a white man, than go to 
 Sydney or anywhere else with a treacherous beast who 
 was half black." 
 
 The faintest tinge of color crept over Clavering's 
 cheek-bones, as if she had found a spot that hurt. He 
 looked out of the window hurriedly as though he 
 feared some one might have overheard what she said 
 and understood it. 
 
 "You'll give him that chance, won't you?" Miss Sev- 
 eroid pleaded, and her voice was much softer than it 
 had been. "A fair chance to die, as you would want 
 to die if you were in his place. He'd give you the 
 chance if your positions were reversed. If you know 
 the man at all, you know he would do that." 
 
 And Clavering winced. Again, quite unconsciously, 
 she had found a sore spot, because the outlaw was 
 never likely to forget the fair chance McClure had 
 given him behind Marsden & Co.'s powder store. 
 
 Then suddenly, with a gesture of impatience, he 
 turned and, ere she could move, he had swept her into 
 his arms, crushing her to him fiercely, proving to her 
 how utterly powerless she was. 
 
 But she did not struggle. For a second or two she 
 was frightened, and then she met his burning, black 
 eyes in a manner that was just a little discomfiting 
 just as Maybrick had found it. 
 
 "Ever since I first saw you in the Violet's cabin," 
 Clavering said in a low voice, "since you first looked
 
 3 o8 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 up at me and laughed and were not afraid, I knew that 
 this sort of life must end. And it's ended. You speak 
 of giving McClure a chance. Why not give me one ? 
 I am" 
 
 "I'll give you a chance if you'll give him one," Miss 
 Severoid interrupted quickly, and hoped Ralph was not 
 awake. "I said I would, and I mean it. I I'd try 
 to to love you, too, if you'd if you'd show me that 
 you can fight a white man's fight fairly and not like 
 a Jackrie in the dark." 
 
 The pressure of Clavering's arms relaxed a little, 
 but his eyes were doing their best to search to the roots 
 of her sincerity. The spot of color over his cheek 
 bones came back again. 
 
 "And if I killed him?" 
 
 And Miss Severoid's mind, in spite of that ugly 
 threat, took a sudden and fantastic twist, so that she 
 smiled teasingly up at him as though she were herself 
 again. "I I'll bet you myself that you don't!" 
 
 "You mean you'd " 
 
 He stopped and his arms fell slowly to his sides. 
 His expression was that of a man who has been at 
 tacked from an unexpected quarter. He seemed to 
 consider in a queer, apologetic sort of way that Miss 
 Severoid was taking an unfair advantage of him. 
 
 "You mean you'll wager with me, with yourself as 
 the stake, that I can't " 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 That measured word gave no indication of the surg 
 ing leap of hope Miss Severoid's heart took as she saw 
 Clavering's face light up with a new and fervid en 
 thusiasm; the eager light that comes into the eyes of 
 the man to whom gambling is second nature. 
 
 "And I'd pay the bet, too." 
 
 "Done!" 
 
 The word, so high pitched that it squeaked, was fol-
 
 THE WAGER 309 
 
 lowed by a minute of deep, deep silence. In it they 
 shook hands solemnly upon the wager and looked into 
 each other's soul for the sign that they would both 
 play fair. 
 
 And though Clavering learned more clearly in that 
 eloquent pause why Miss Severoid had made the wager, 
 he said nothing nor gave any sign that he knew. 
 
 Some time later Miss Severoid watched him make 
 his way out of the village, followed by Cralla's head 
 man, who carried a black, tarpaulin-covered carrier's 
 pack ; and also by Ilora. He apologized for having to 
 take her with him. 
 
 Miss Severoid had no misgivings upon the question 
 of fair play, nor any fear because she was being left 
 alone under the guardianship of the greasy, decrepit 
 chief of the village and of the squat and ugly Plym 
 outh. Nor did she bother about where Cralla had 
 gone, nor about her own future, nor the fact that she 
 had not slept for forty-eight hours. 
 
 Instead, her throbbing heart was whispering ex 
 ultantly : 
 
 "He has a chance!"
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 A THREAT AND A PROMISE 
 
 McCLURE came to himself with an insistent desire 
 to kill. Yaka juice has that effect, if the dose is strong 
 enough and an incentive is not wanting. 
 
 For fifteen minutes he tugged and strained at the 
 hide thongs that bound him, his gray eyes screeching 
 murder and his mouth contorting itself in a manner 
 that was most unpleasant to see. Then he subsided, 
 thoroughly exhausted, to lie gasping for breath amid 
 a stench that sickened and threatened to suffocate him. 
 
 After a while he learned that he was quite alone 
 upon the floor of a very filthy little round hut, and 
 that a large, pockmarked Beni was choking the door 
 way to the exclusion of the air. The Beni was grin 
 ning at him and jabbering to himself. Then, having 
 come to some sort of conclusion upon the matter, jab 
 bered a little more and departed. 
 
 Judging by the light, McClure guessed the time to be 
 about three in the afternoon. Savagely discordant 
 sounds came to his ears; the shrill cries of children 
 and the staccato yelling of older people who were 
 indulging in mild conversation with all the vocal energy 
 of street venders. 
 
 Whines and moans and laughter were strangely 
 intermingled, but all that was only incidental to the 
 nauseous odors that outraged the atmosphere. 
 
 In a few minutes, however, McClure's mind rose 
 above these things and he began to think. This, of 
 
 310
 
 A THREAT AND A PROMISE 311 
 
 course, made him strain and tug at the tough hide strips 
 again, so that they cut into his flesh like knives. And 
 equally, of course, his struggles were of no earthly 
 avail. 
 
 Breathing heavily and deeply, he lay quite still for 
 another space, staring at the dun brown ceiling and 
 thinking. Men have gone mad doing that, and they 
 were not trussed like a smoked ham in the city of 
 Benin either. 
 
 McClure knew exactly where he was and what was 
 likely to happen to him. He needed no information 
 on that score. Somehow it was not much consolation 
 to feel that he could at least show "these beasts" how 
 to die like a gentleman ; partly because the Benis would 
 not be impressed by the performance, and greatly be 
 cause one can't look very dignified minus one's ears 
 and eyes. 
 
 The trader still had those, but he was quite sure he 
 would lose them hours, perhaps days, before his body 
 would give up the struggle to live. 
 
 He had no very definite ideas upon the question of 
 Cralla's treachery, and did not bother with that angle 
 of the matter, so far as he himself was concerned. 
 But he did think of what might have happened to Miss 
 Severoid and again became temporarily insane till 
 exhaustion and the lacerating thongs once more taught 
 him the impotence of his furious efforts to be free. 
 
 Two deep blue eyes came to torture and then to 
 soothe him. Feeling again the hasty brushing of her 
 lips upon his thumb, he smiled in a manner that would 
 have been sickly had the circumstances not made it 
 magnificent. 
 
 The screeching riot of sound without lessened con 
 siderably, and as McClure was trying to guess what it 
 might portend, a large, fat hulk of black humanity 
 waddled into the doorway.
 
 3 i2 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 The trader knew at once that it was Daka. Instead 
 of being disturbed by the greasy, rotund majesty of 
 that chief of chiefs, he took the opportunity to have 
 a good look at him and quickly saw that he had not 
 been above copying the majority of Cralla's sartorial 
 effects, while he had added others of his own rings 
 that blazed upon his fingers like headlights and glitter 
 ing beads and red coral charms that hung about his 
 neck with such prodigality that they might have been 
 for sale. 
 
 His bulk filled the doorway so that McClure could 
 see very little of what was going on behind him. In 
 fact, after the first few moments he saw only the beady 
 black eyes of the chief fastened upon him with all the 
 banefulness of a snake hypnotizing its prey. 
 
 Daka did not speak ; just looked long and gloatingly 
 at the truly splendid bargain he had made. 
 
 McClure returned the scrutiny without a shade of 
 fear. It was not bravado; merely an attempt to find 
 out what manner of man Daka was beneath the rolling 
 black layers of fat that told of a life spent in hog-idle 
 ness and gluttony. 
 
 And presently the chief's glance shifted. 
 
 He studied McClure's hippo-hide bonds nervously, 
 as if he were afraid they might not be strong enough, 
 and as the trader with a mighty heave raised himself 
 into a sitting posture, Daka's coward heart jumped, 
 his beefy jaw sagged, and with a hurried, backward 
 scuffle he receded from the doorway, muttering squeak- 
 ily in the Beni jargon and waddled hastily out of Mc 
 Clure's sight. 
 
 The trader grinned contemptuously, and as he lay 
 down again his spirit groaned at the thought of dying 
 at the hands of such a brute. But he knew perfectly 
 well that making Daka's heart pound faster would not 
 help matters any. This was instantly proven by the
 
 A THREAT AND A PROMISE 313 
 
 return of his pockmarked guard, accompanied by no 
 fewer than five wild and woolly and awful-smelling 
 assistants, each of whom carried a machete. 
 
 They squatted about their prisoner, ready to do him 
 violent injury if he moved so much as a finger. Mc- 
 Clure, though he lay very still, considered each of them 
 separately with a cold gray stare that plainly made 
 them very uneasy. 
 
 Centuries passed; the air became a little cooler; 
 darkness came. 
 
 And almost simultaneously Cralla ! 
 
 He came into the doorway very quietly, just as the 
 pockmarked guard lit a small hurricane lamp, and his 
 face was as passive as a plaster-of-paris cast. Ignoring 
 McClure's impotent glare completely, he looked the 
 guards over, grunted unintelligibly and went out again. 
 
 McClure did not know what to think, and he did 
 not want to think at all ; but thoughts came to him 
 suspicions and fears and conjectures that were like 
 knife thrusts. 
 
 He believed, for one thing, that Miss Severoid was 
 still in Benin City and that Clavering meant to keep 
 her there ! 
 
 And then his tortured mind was again diverted by 
 the entrance of a mammy, carrying a chop-pot well- 
 nigh filled with steaming palm-oil chop, which is the 
 roast beef of the Delta and may contain, in addition 
 to yams, red peppers and palm oil, almost anything the 
 cook cares to put into it. 
 
 Instantly McClure's guards, with harsh grunts of 
 approval, deserted him to squat about the chop-pot 
 and gorge themselves in their own way which isn't 
 very pretty to watch. The mammy went out, and a 
 moment or two later Ilora came into the doorway. 
 
 McClure's glance fell upon her and remained won- 
 deringly. But she paid not the slightest attention to
 
 314 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 him; only to the guards so busily employed about the 
 chop-pot. 
 
 Her presence there did not disturb them any more 
 than Cralla's had done. 
 
 Was she not Cralla's wife? Was Cralla not Daka's 
 friend ? Had Cralla not delivered the white man into 
 Daka's hands? 
 
 Of course! 
 
 Consequently Ilora had a perfect right to stand in 
 the doorway and watch them eat. 
 
 In the dim light McClure could not see her face very 
 clearly, but he saw that her right hand was concealed 
 in the folds of her overcloth, and that, though she 
 remained in the doorway till his guards had finished 
 eating, her right hand did not stir. 
 
 Had he known that her fingers were curving about 
 the butt of his own revolver he might have felt better 
 or worse. As it was, the only thing upon his mind 
 was a large and heavy question mark. 
 
 Ilora had had no difficulty in recovering McClure's 
 revolver. That had been the least of her troubles. 
 Concealing it from Clavering's and then from Cralla's 
 watchful eyes had been much more difficult than pilfer 
 ing it from Miss Severoid's uniform case. 
 
 The girl's reason for taking it with her was simple. 
 It was McClure's and she thought he might need it. 
 She also hoped he would use it as she directed. 
 
 Presently the chop-pot was empty. The satiated 
 Benis reformed their circle about McClure and sat 
 watching him contentedly and with an expression upon 
 their faces that hoped he was hungry because there was 
 nothing left for him to eat. 
 
 Ilora went noiselessly out again. 
 
 Several more centuries passed and a deep silence fell 
 upon all the world without. The city had dropped off
 
 A THREAT AND A PROMISE 315 
 
 to sleep. Apparently there were to be no revels that 
 night. 
 
 McClure's tongue and throat were hard and dry and 
 painful; opalescent pinwheels began to revolve before 
 his eyes, which were slightly bloodshot again and 
 smarting as though on fire. The air he was forced 
 to breathe was vilely heavy and the odors screeched to 
 heaven. 
 
 They seemed to be affecting his guards, too. They 
 became drowsy one by one too drowsy to bother talk 
 ing. But when Cralla's head man big, brutal, and 
 slant-eyed came in with several bottles of raw Ham 
 burg gin, none of the sleepy guards refused his share. 
 
 It was Daka's gin, and a gift from Daka was a gift 
 from the gods. So they drank, and the head man 
 drank, too. But he had not had yaka juice mixed with 
 his palm-oil chop. When a machete blade snipped the 
 neck off a fourth bottle he alone was left to drink it. 
 
 Which he didn't. He threw it into a corner, and, 
 carefully looking over his unconscious victims who 
 were sprawled about McClure like unto death, he rose 
 from his haunches and, standing over the bewildered 
 trader, announced thickly and with an ugly grin : 
 
 "Cralla come, HT bit. He 'make Daka drunk too 
 much !" 
 
 McClure simply stared and tried to reorganize his 
 thoughts. He was not given the opportunity, because 
 Ilora came in again at that moment, and with a gruff 
 intimation that Cralla was coming, instantly produced 
 a long, lean knife, fell to her knees and began slashing 
 at the trader's bonds with an avidity that was as re 
 markable as it was dangerous. 
 
 But she made no mistakes. Just as Cralla crouched 
 into the doorway McClure stagged to his feet, half 
 crazy with the pain of his cramped limbs, the delirious
 
 316 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 sensation of freedom and the mystery and silence and 
 devilish deliberateness of it all. 
 
 His semi-cynical, contemptuous attitude toward his 
 fate altered in a moment to an insensate desire to be 
 free to know his enemies from his friends and to 
 crush the former in his naked hands. And he looked 
 as if he could crush quite a number of them that way 
 just then. 
 
 He glared about him at Cralla, at Ilora, at the 
 head man and at the unconscious Benis at his feet. 
 Then, emitting a throaty sound of pure animal joy, he 
 stooped awkwardly, seized one of the guards' machetes 
 and straightened again with the madness of fight in 
 every aching nerve and sinew of his massive body. 
 
 "Sof'ly," Cralla warned hoarsely. "White mammy 
 live for Tulami. We go dere. Sof'ly, sof'ly!" 
 
 McClure's glance pierced the shadows and searched 
 Cralla's face for the hint of a lie, while he tried to rub 
 some feeling into his legs. Then, listening a moment 
 or two and hearing no sound that seemed suspicious, 
 he switched his attention sharply to Ilora. 
 
 "He talk true?" His voice rasped, and even those 
 three words hurt, seeming to tear his dry throat to 
 shreds. 
 
 Ilora cowered from his bloodshot eyes whimper 
 ingly. 
 
 "Be be so. He talk true. White mammy live for 
 Tulami. We go dere." 
 
 McClure did not believe it. He knew it was a trick 
 some subtle trap of Clavering's some queer twist 
 of that arch-devil's mind intended to make a mockery 
 of his hopes. 
 
 But he followed Cralla's lead without another word, 
 thankful for the chance given him to throw his head 
 and shoulders back and fight. 
 
 They went out into the compound with scarcely any
 
 A THREAT AND A PROMISE 317 
 
 sound. It was then shortly after 2 A. M. and there was 
 very little moon ; just enough to allow McClure to pick 
 his steps with fair surety, and to make the stark forms 
 of sleeping natives distinct enough to distinguish them 
 from mango sticks. 
 
 It was many minutes before the gnawing ache of the 
 revived circulation of blood in his congested legs and 
 arms ceased to monopolize his attention. 
 
 Looming shapes of scattering clusters of huts were 
 all about them, and as they threaded their way through 
 that miniature maze and across an open space into the 
 midst of 'another group of long, squat huts, they truly 
 walked into the shadow of death. 
 
 But Cralla quite evidently knew what he was about, 
 and though McClure took the precaution to make the 
 headman walk before him and had Ilora step along at 
 his left side so that her shoulder, pressing against his 
 elbow, acted as a guide at every twist and turn they 
 made, it seemed as though his carefulness was some 
 what unnecessary. 
 
 It was like a city of the dead ; sweltering and torpid 
 and smothered in deep, deep shadows and deeper 
 silences that suffocated. A grimy, sinister place that, 
 so far as McClure knew, began nowhere and rambled 
 aimlessly into gloomy space a city with a thousand 
 threats in every corner of it and not a single square 
 inch that was clean. 
 
 And then they were out of slavedom though Mc 
 Clure did not know they had been in it and were 
 crossing an open space with something like a flagpole 
 in the center of it. 
 
 But it wasn't a flagpole. It was a good, thick 
 mango stick like a wharf pile and in the daytime its 
 base looked like a butcher's block. 
 
 McClure had been scheduled to die there ultimately 
 head down.
 
 318 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 It was there, as Cralla swerved away to the right of 
 that place of barbarous tortures that Ilora huddled a 
 little closer to McClure and breathed very softly. 
 
 "Cralla go kill you. You shoot him? I get gun." 
 
 McClure started slightly, thought a minute, then 
 whispered. 
 
 "You get gun? Where?" 
 
 "You shoot him? I give you gun if you shoot 
 him. He go kill you !" 
 
 McClure walked in silence for a space, trying to 
 guess what was behind it all. Then he came to the 
 conclusion that in any event being in possession of a 
 revolver would not do any harm. 
 
 "All right. LiT bit I shoot. When we get out 
 side. You get gun?" 
 
 And Ilora grinned in hideous satisfaction; actually 
 quivered with the joy of knowing that she, herself, 
 would not have to shoot Cralla through the head. 
 McClure was going to do it for her ! 
 
 So she pressed the revolver happily into his keep 
 ing, and his hand closed over it as a man grips the 
 hand of his dearest friend. The feel of it told him 
 that it was his own, but he smothered the impulsive 
 question that sprang to his tongue and followed 
 silently on. 
 
 Still swerving to the right and apparently uncon 
 scious of the conspiracy hatching behind him, Cralla 
 led them toward huts that loomed larger and more 
 importantly out of the murk. Then, curving around 
 the outer fringe of them he crept cautiously up to 
 something that suddenly rose out of the earth hum 
 ming. 
 
 The humming ceased. 
 
 \Yith every nerve strung to snapping point, McClure 
 heard a gasp, a grunt, and the sickening impact of a 
 blackjack with a human skull.
 
 A THREAT AND A PROMISE 319 
 
 Then silence. 
 
 Cralla went on again, breathing a little deeper, and 
 McClure stepped carefully, following the headman's 
 lead so that he would not tread upon the fallen Beni 
 watch-boy ; possibly an innovation of Clavering's own. 
 
 But that was only one. 
 
 Winding in and out of an impenetrable maze of by 
 ways that could not have been dignified even with the 
 name of alleys, Cralla led a tortuous route in a catlike 
 manner; so accurately and with such a fine sense of 
 what was dangerous and what was not that even to 
 McClure, who was not unused to native villages, it 
 seemed almost supernatural. 
 
 The chief appeared to sense the presence of a watch- 
 boy minutes before they came to one, and he did not 
 seem to make any special effort to avoid them. 
 
 McClure had counted three boys when the clusters 
 of huts began to thin out toward the city wall. 
 
 And then there was a fourth watch-boy the boy 
 with the bush-dog for a pet. 
 
 The boy was of no account 
 
 But the bush-dog
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 CRALLA? 
 
 GEESE saved Rome; field mice gnawed the bow 
 strings of the Assyrians in Sennacherib's time, and 
 Rameses is pictured using lions in his battle line. 
 
 But this is a short, sharp chapter in the life of a 
 mangy, yellow bush-dog that was considered to be of 
 no earthly use to any one. 
 
 His master, the watch-boy, sank under Cralla's 
 uncanny attack as the other three had done with a 
 choking grunt that died into a long-drawn-out sigh. 
 But the bush-dog, wheeling away from him and the 
 chief, yelped with all its lungs and went on yelping its 
 grief and terror and rage to heaven till other bush-dogs 
 near and far sympathetically took up the strain. 
 
 Cralla swore ; not a Jackrie oath, but a solid English 
 "Damn!" that startled McClure almost as much as 
 the bush-dog's yelping. 
 
 But there was no time to be startled. 
 
 Cralla knew that, and plucking up his trailing cloth, 
 he promptly took to his heels, hoarsely calling in 
 Jackrie for the others to follow. 
 
 They followed. 
 
 Behind them Hades was let loose ere they had gone 
 fifty yards. Before them was a sort of Purgatory. 
 
 Black things with shapes of men rose out of the 
 ground, yawned affrightedly and started to their feet 
 wondering what on earth was the matter. And that 
 indecision and the Beni's natural disinclination to fight 
 
 320
 
 CRALLA? 321 
 
 anything until he is sure there is enough of him to 
 make the attack, undoubtedly helped the fugitives con 
 siderably. 
 
 Frightened questions, screams of fear and the wail 
 ing cries of suddenly awakened children were quickly 
 mingled in an inextricable chaos that made the Benis 
 still more uncertain; but the moon, with an eye to 
 scenic effect, came out from behind a darkening cloud 
 and shed an anemic ray upon that pandemonium. 
 
 Cralla's stride lengthened and the others came 
 swiftly at his heels, Ilora holding close to McClure's 
 side, gripping a long, lean knife in her right hand 
 the knife with which she had cut the trader's bonds. 
 
 There were Benis everywhere. They poured out 
 of their huts in swarms like bees, and presently the 
 belching roar of a muzzle-loader was followed by the 
 sharp crack of a rifle one of Clavering's gifts. A 
 bullet hummed past McClure's ear and told him that 
 one Beni at least evidently saw clearly enough to know 
 what was wrong. 
 
 He did not know where Cralla was leading. There 
 were huts all about him and darksome alleys that led 
 Heaven knew where ; but he did know that the oppor 
 tunity to fight was being largely presented to him. 
 And when Cralla and his head man dived into a sort of 
 lane that led through a black cluster of huts into the 
 heart of a mob of greasy, smelly beings, he cracked 
 heads upon right and left with the lusty discrimina 
 tion of a man possessed of several devils. 
 
 Ilora was keeping close within the shadow of his 
 bulk, using the long, lean knife with deadly effect, but 
 even then her queer, savage mind was hoping that 
 McClure would not use all the bullets in his revolver, 
 because in that case there would be none left for 
 Cralla. 
 
 McClure, strangely enough, was dimly thinking
 
 322 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 along the same lines; but the bullet he hoped to keep 
 was not for Cralla. He was determined not to go 
 back to the slave-huts alive. 
 
 Something sharp and stinging tore through the 
 sleeve of his shirt and made a little furrow on the 
 fleshy part of his arm ; another bullet singed the top of 
 his head and yet another chipped the edge of his 
 machete blade and almost knocked it out of his hand. 
 But he took no count of these things. 
 
 He saw Benis all about him, and each was a threat 
 though most of them were fighting aimlessly because 
 they did not know any letter, and the rest were whin 
 ing and crouching away Irom the terrible sweep of his 
 right arm as from a demigod. 
 
 Shrieks and yells and the wheezy, hissing breath 
 of fight ; the roar and rattle of heterogeneous firearms ; 
 the ugly snick, snick of machete-blades; the wailing 
 of women; the pad and the scuffling of many feet; 
 grunts and groans and the guttural Beni oaths were 
 the sounds that came out of that place of riot and 
 destruction. 
 
 Then, above it all, McClure became conscious of 
 the unmistakable spit, spit of an automatic, and won 
 dering whence it came suddenly saw Cralla straight 
 ahead, mowing a path for himself, wielding a ma 
 chete he had picked up somewhere like a cavalryman's 
 saber, while flashes of fire spurted intermittently from 
 his left hand. 
 
 McClure was thunderstruck. In a dim sort of way, 
 while he hacked and slashed and brought himself and 
 Ilora up to the dead man's heels, he realized that 
 Cralla was fighting, not as his Jackrie head man was 
 fighting, wildly with tooth and nail, but with the de 
 liberation and poise of one who had been through 
 many such encounters. 
 
 In fact, McClure was so astonished it almost cost
 
 CRALLA? 323 
 
 him his life. In that moment of hesitation, when 
 the moon showed him the chief of Akerri, broad, 
 erect, and magnificent, moving straight and swift and 
 sure through the mob of thoroughly scared and be 
 wildered Benis, a large and very wideawake brute 
 sprang at the trader and lunged savagely at him with 
 the broad-bladed wrist-knife of the upper Niger. 
 
 But the blow only gashed McClure's side a little; 
 and the black hulk hurtling sidewise, grunted like a 
 stuck pig, and dropped quietly at the trader's feet 
 as Ilora, sinuous and terrible, slid from under his 
 drooping weight, drawing a long, lean knife out of 
 his vitals. 
 
 The girl grinned through the blood on her face, 
 and McClure, instantly conscious of what she had 
 done for him, seized her into the shelter of his left 
 arm, and went altogether mad. 
 
 He swept through that greasy, sweating pack like 
 a cyclone; a giant with bloodshot eyes, whose breath 
 was as the hiss of a snake, and whose right arm 
 whirled and cut with the devastating sweep of a scythe 
 in a cornfield. 
 
 Benis huddled away from him whimpering. They 
 called him a devil, and respected him as such, and 
 those who lived to tell of it spoke of him as a juju. 
 
 He forced the headman to Cralla's shoulder and 
 drove even Cralla ahead with the battering-ram force 
 of the madness that was upon him. And then he 
 was at Cralla's side, and they went through the last 
 fragment of that evil-smelling crew together ; through 
 it as a knife cuts cheese, while a hail of bullets and 
 other miscellaneous missiles whined about their heads 
 and plowed into the slimy filth at their feet. 
 
 Some of the Benis followed them as they sprinted 
 for the narrow gate of the city, but most of them 
 didn't. The few who knew what it was about had
 
 324 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 had enough, and the rest were screeching questions 
 and waiting, shivering, for coherent answers. 
 
 Cralla knew that, and he also knew that when these 
 answers were forthcoming there wasn't a corner in 
 the Beni country north of Mayona that would be safe 
 for him and his companions. Chief Tomi would har 
 bor them even in defiance of Daka if Clavering said 
 so. Tulami's old chief wouldn't, because his village 
 was too small and too near Benin City. 
 
 To reach Mayona before Daka's blood-crazy hordes 
 overtook them that was the situation Cralla faced. 
 
 There were two ways to meet it. To fend for 
 himself, which gave him an excellent chance of life, 
 or 
 
 Cralla was thinking of the other way as they neared 
 the city wall, and even as his automatic spat once, 
 twice, thrice and two of the half-dozen guardians at 
 the gate dropped in their tracks as they fled, the chief 
 smiled and shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 McClure had not even seen the Benis at the gate. 
 As he ran, Ilora clinging to his belt and the riot of 
 sound behind them lending wings to their feet, his 
 amazement regarding Cralla's methods and marksman 
 ship increased a thousandfold. 
 
 They swept triumphantly through the unguarded 
 gate to a greater measure of freedom. 
 
 They were each more or less blood-spattered and 
 bore many little marks of conflict cuts that were 
 deeper than scratches and little furrows the Beni bul 
 lets and pot-legs had made. The most serious of 
 their wounds was the half of an ear the headman had 
 lost; and that was serious because it might be mis 
 taken for a mark of slavery. 
 
 But Cralla had no time to bother about that. Plung 
 ing through the darkness, he kept on and on, till Mc 
 Clure lost all knowledge of distance, and till the
 
 CRALLA? 325 
 
 roarings and the screaming of the outraged Benis 
 grew fainter and fainter, fading into a dull hum that 
 died away altogether. 
 
 Apparently there was no pursuit then. 
 
 Ilora suddenly tugged at McClure's sleeve and whis 
 pered harshly. 
 
 "Why you no shoot? You be fool! He go kill 
 you!" 
 
 McClure was startled. He had been thinking as he 
 ran of the marvel of Cralla's fighting methods and 
 had forgotten all about Ilora's warning that the chief 
 had designs upon his life, and of his own promise to 
 her. Before he had a chance to frame an excuse 
 Cralla halted before an almost invisible path and 
 wheeled upon the trader and the girl so suddenly that 
 the former thought that Ilora's warning had not been 
 idle. 
 
 McClure's revolver rose sharply, but in an instant 
 he saw that the chief's hands were empty. Peering 
 into his face he had a sudden and sharp suspicion that 
 was staggering. 
 
 Ilora cowered out of sight behind him. She, too, 
 thought that her whisper had been loud enough for 
 Cralla to hear, even though she knew that the chief 
 had not stopped for that alone, but because the path 
 led to a small juju worshiping-hut where a black, tar 
 paulin-covered pack lay concealed. 
 
 Cralla looked interrogatively at McClure's revolver, 
 and the trader lowered it slowly, feeling rather foolish. 
 
 "Ilora wah!" 
 
 The girl whined, hesitated, then slunk from the 
 protection of McClure's great body, fumbling with the 
 haft of her knife, the blade of which was concealed in 
 the folds of her cloth. 
 
 "Did you give him that revolver?" Cralla asked 
 in the Jackrie tongue.
 
 326 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 No answer. 
 
 "Where did you get it?" 
 
 Still no answer. Ilora's sinuous body twisted awk 
 wardly, and the whites of her eyes showed. Quite 
 evidently she was waiting for McClure to keep his 
 promise. 
 
 The quiet was painful, and McClure, who under 
 stood Jackrie well enough to know what was said, also 
 felt he would like to know where Ilora had found his 
 revolver. The headman simply stood by nursing his 
 ear and muttering unhappily to himself. 
 
 "Where did you get it?" Cralla asked again in 
 Jackrie and took a sudden step forward. 
 
 Ilora screamed and straightened. With a whine of 
 savage rage and hopelessness she sprang like a puma 
 at Cralla, one long, glittering claw glinting in the 
 moonlight as her arm swept up, then down into space. 
 
 There was an ugly Jackrie oath, a short, sharp 
 struggle, and the knife tinkled from Ilora's hand to 
 the path at Cralla's feet. He put his naked foot upon 
 it, and still gripping Ilora's wrists, while she writhed 
 and fought savagely to be free, he began to pronounce 
 the anathema which no Jackrie can hear and live with 
 any degree of comfort ever afterward. 
 
 McClure shut his ears to it and the headman shiv 
 ered and turned away. 
 
 Ilora's struggles ceased. She whined and wilted 
 and slipped out of Cralla's grasp to shiver and moan 
 and clutch him about the ankles in a terror that was 
 not of the flesh. 
 
 And the ranting, dirgelike strain halted. 
 
 Kicking himself free of Ilora's fawning arms and 
 stooping to secure the knife, Cralla's manner changed 
 in a moment. He became suddenly very quiet and 
 seemed to be listening. 
 
 And then
 
 CRALLA? 327 
 
 "Already ! Lord, that's quick !" 
 
 It was in perfect English. Before McClure could 
 decide whether or not he had heard aright, Cralla 
 went on, speaking very fast : 
 
 "This is my station, Mac. I get off here, but you 
 and Dobo and the girl, if she wants to, must go on to 
 Tulami and go like the devil, too. And don't stop 
 there a minute. Get to Mayona and have Tomi put 
 you up. You'll be safe there. Say I sent you, and 
 tell Miss Severoid that I took her advice on the ques 
 tion of color, but I'm sorry the wager's off. 
 
 "Now, skip. Those devils are coming, and coming 
 fast and there's a lot of them. Good-by, Mac. 
 I've hated you, and I hate you now more than ever I 
 did because you are going to her. Still, you are 
 a wonderful fighter, and killing you would have been 
 a pleasure and an honor. 
 
 "But she needs you, and you must go to her. So 
 hurry along like a good chap. You haven't a minute 
 to lose, though I'll try to hold them as long as I can." 
 
 The voice was soft and easy, without a single tremor 
 in it; the voice of a man to whom death is an every 
 day threat and of no consequence whatever. As the 
 tawny hand came out, McClure, but dimly compre 
 hending what "Cralla" meant to do, seized it in a grip 
 that made the "chief" wince. 
 
 "You you are " he sputtered hopelessly. 
 
 "That's it. Splendid guess. But she's waiting for 
 you, man, and you must get her to Mayona. Must! 
 Understand ? And those beasts will be at Tulami be 
 fore breakfast." 
 
 "Bu but great Heavens ! You can't you're not 
 going to " 
 
 "No, no, not at all. That's all right. But she 
 needs us both just now, and your job is to get her to 
 Mayona. Be good to her, and keep an eye on that
 
 328 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 brother of hers. He's got a devil in him. Now go, 
 you damned fool! You're wasting time. Dobo will 
 show you the way and beat up the carriers for you. 
 Good-by." 
 
 And in a moment, with a harsh order to Dobo, he 
 had dived into the bush and was gone ! 
 
 McClure's mind was in a maze. 
 
 That brother of hers! Wager! Cralla! Claver- 
 ing! Benis at Tulami before breakfast! 
 
 The last was the only thing he properly understood, 
 and it put life into his limbs very suddenly, so that 
 when the headman started off into the gloom, McClure 
 turned heavily to follow, because it was the only thing 
 to do. 
 
 He hardly noticed Ilora, who crouched almost at 
 his feet, until he nearly tripped over her. Then he 
 stopped, stooped, and offered to assist her to rise. 
 
 "Come. We go. Bad man come," he said gently, 
 touching her shoulder and hoping the headman would 
 not get away too far. 
 
 But Ilora, pumalike to the last, snarled and turned 
 like a flash upon the hand that had failed her, and her 
 teeth, snapping upon his little finger, sank into it to 
 the bone! 
 
 McClure's bellow of surprise and pain echoed and 
 reechoed weirdly through the darkness. Ere the 
 sound of it had died away the girl leaped to her feet, 
 spat his own blood at him in contempt, and fled to 
 join her chief! 
 
 But Cralla had gone to make himself ready to die 
 in the habiliment of a white man and a gentleman.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 "LIKE A GENTLEMAN UNAFRAID" 
 
 A BIG, sandy-haired man, spattered with blood like a 
 butcher's killer, staggered into Tulami with the dawn, 
 following a Jackrie who was minus half an ear. 
 
 And they found the place full of Yorubas. There 
 were three companies under the command of Lieuten 
 ant Maybrick and his juniors, Dale and Forrester. 
 
 When McClure saw them he thought it was a 
 hallucination; a horrible trick his tortured mind was 
 playing him. 
 
 But the Yorubas were very real and very desperate. 
 The rain-storm that had at first held Miss Severoid 
 in Tulami on tenter-hooks for twenty-four hours, to 
 gether with the hours occupied in securing McClure's 
 release, had just been hours enough to enable the 
 Saloko contingent Maybrick had sent for to join him 
 at Basanna. 
 
 It had marched to Mayona in time to rescue two 
 half-dead Yoruba orderlies from an ugly fate in such 
 a decided manner that Chief Tomi had instantly 
 stopped bubbling over with good humor, and was not 
 in the least likely to do so again. He was dead. 
 
 Then Maybrick had followed the trail of the fugi 
 tives to Tulami through the night, and had arrived 
 barely an hour before, much to the relief and conster 
 nation of Miss Severoid, who did not know what to say 
 or do or think for several minutes. 
 
 Then she had led Maybrick into the hut where her 
 brother lay sleeping, and told the lieutenant where 
 
 329
 
 330 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Ralph had been and how she had got him back; that 
 McClure had been left behind in Benin City, and that 
 Clavering who had not been at all unpleasant to her 
 at Mayona had gone to get the trader out. All of 
 which made the lieutenant look stupid, more particu 
 larly when he looked at Ralph and then at Ralph's 
 sister. 
 
 Then, still feeling somewhat guilty about the May 
 ona affair, he had violently shaken her hand, and said 
 he was jolly glad and hoped everything would be all 
 right. He went out to tell Forrester and Dale of how 
 badly everybody had been fooled not including him 
 self, of course ; how Cralla, of Akerri, had taken young 
 Debenham out of Benin City, and of how Clavering 
 had rescued the expedition from him, Maybrick, at 
 Mayona, and was now gone to save McClure from a 
 horrible fate in Benin City. 
 
 Maybrick had no idea that Miss Severoid had had 
 a share in the Mayona "rescue." 
 
 Forrester said it was like a bally play, and Dale 
 remarked that Miss Severoid was a deuced plucky 
 little woman, and hoped old Talbot who was the 
 D. C. at Saloko, and not at all old wouldn't be an ass 
 and raise a dust about it. 
 
 "But he won't," Maybrick said sotto voce. "Not 
 when he sees her. Don't suppose it's any use hoping 
 that Clavering will walk right into our arms ?" 
 
 McClure was the answer. 
 
 The big man asked no questions. He stopped, 
 stared hard at Maybrick particularly, and got his 
 breath again. When a little golden-haired, blue-eyed 
 woman rushed, sobbing and laughing hysterically to 
 meet him, he patted her on the shoulder and babbled 
 about things she did not understand. Then, casting 
 his bloodshot eyes over the Yorubas, he screeched at 
 their officers in a voice that whistled.
 
 "LIKE A GENTLEMAN UNAFRAID" 331 
 
 "They're coming! Daka's crowd blood mad! 
 Cla Cralla's back there trying to stop them. I'm 
 going back to " He stopped, wheeled, and grabbed 
 Dobo, the headman, by the shoulder. "Here, you! 
 You're in this ! Show me the way and get a move on, 
 damn you! Edge!" 
 
 The final word was a shriek, and McClure was not 
 quite sane when he suddenly turned and bolted through 
 the Yoruba lines again, dragging the headman with 
 him toward the bush-path leading to Benin City. Yet 
 he was sane enough to want to reach Clavering before 
 the Yorubas did, and, if the outlaw were alive, to give 
 him the chance of escape that he, McClure, felt was 
 his due. 
 
 That the trader had been betrayed into Daka's 
 hands by Clavering, and for some unexplainable rea 
 son had been rescued again, had nothing to do with 
 the matter. Such was the character of McClure's 
 love for the woman whose scream followed him into 
 the green bank of the bush. 
 
 He knew that Clavering was "back there some 
 where" fighting for her; which made the outlaw 
 McClure's brother at once and without a single ques 
 tion. Afterward they might and probably would 
 settle matters between themselves, but not then. 
 
 He heard the soft thunder of the Yorubas' naked 
 feet behind him before he had gone half a mile, and 
 they crept nearer and nearer at every step, because 
 McClure was too big a man to do the running he had 
 done that night and still be in any sort of condition to 
 compete with a Yoruba. 
 
 Dobo, the headman, helped him a little, principally 
 because he did not like the feel of McClure's revolver 
 pressing into his spine, and, running ahead of the 
 touch of it, acted as a sort of pacemaker; so that he 
 was the first to come into conflict with Daka's revenge-
 
 332 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 ful mob south of the little path leading to the little 
 juju worshiping-hut. 
 
 McClure thought that he heard the spit of an auto 
 matic, and instantly showed the Yorubas and their 
 officers behind him what a man can do sometimes and 
 live. 
 
 Some of the Benis were visible on the path. The 
 rest were in the bush. 
 
 But McClure did not bother about those he could 
 not see. He went straight ahead with the spit of an 
 automatic revolver calling him on and on and into an 
 exhibition of the sort of madness a man may be capable 
 of only once in a lifetime, because he usually dies in 
 the midst of it. 
 
 Bullets and pot-legs and other ammunition rained 
 around McClure's head and spurted about his feet. 
 The hum and the whine and the chug of them were 
 constantly in his ears. They rent his clothing and 
 singed his hair, and made little furrows in his legs 
 and arms and over his ribs, and one actually cut his 
 right shoe-lace in passing. 
 
 But, broad and deep as his chest was and his head 
 was big enough, too the Benis could not find them. 
 
 He plunged into their midst, took the rifle out of 
 the hands of one big brute, and clubbed him over the 
 head with it ; chanced to glimpse another taking a pot 
 shot at him, and in a cold and terribly deliberate 
 fashion fired at the Beni's trigger-finger and laughed 
 horribly when the woolly one howled, dropped his 
 gun, and fled. 
 
 McClure wasn't thinking. He was just going 
 guided partly by Dobo, but greatly by the spiteful 
 crack of an automatic. 
 
 And when he reached the little path leading to the 
 juju worshiping-hut the Benis were in full flight, and 
 the Yorubas were chasing them back into their "infer-
 
 "LIKE A GENTLEMAN UNAFRAID" 333 
 
 nal city," and were giving them reason to believe it 
 would be best to stay there for a while at least till 
 the terrible little brown men had gone. 
 
 McClure could have found the path he sought with 
 out guidance. The dead were thickest there, and the 
 mouth of the path was choked so that McClure and the 
 headman had to clear it a little and go to Clavering's 
 side, stepping very carefully. 
 
 And twenty yards within the path, with the spit of 
 an automatic still in his ears, McClure found Claver- 
 ing dead in the midst of dead. 
 
 Ilora was stretched on her face at his feet. 
 
 Benis were strewn before and behind them in thick 
 and ghastly profusion, and Clavering's automatic was 
 still in his hand. But it was empty, and had been for 
 more than an hour. 
 
 There was no trace of Cralla's personality in his 
 face, which by some kindly whim of fate was scarcely 
 marked. The tawny skin, the puffy cheeks and lips, 
 the flabby throat, the trailing cloth, and the gray hair 
 were gone. The chief of Akerri had given way to a 
 lean-faced white man in white flannels, with a deep- 
 red cummerbund about his waist. 
 
 There was an ugly hole where the pocket of his silk 
 tennis-shirt had been. 
 
 Ilora's position in death was emblematic of what it 
 had been in life. She always had been figuratively 
 and sometimes literally upon her face at his feet. A 
 deep and lasting respect, born of fear and superstition, 
 had kept her there and had drawn her there at the 
 end to fawn upon him and fight for him and plead for 
 giveness for her sins. 
 
 McClure was stupefied at first, and he had a dull 
 sort of regret that Clavering and he could not "have 
 it out," after all. Then, the madness of fight dying 
 out of his blood, he felt chilly and choky and utterly
 
 334 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 unable to think coherently for several minutes; just 
 stood looking solemnly down into the outlaw's face 
 and subconsciously bowed his head in silent tribute to 
 the thing that Clavering had done for the little blue- 
 eyed woman at Tulami. 
 
 Dobo whined and wrung his hands. His knees 
 shook and sagged, and just as he was ready to give 
 way to the customary Jackrie wail over their dead 
 while the threat to bolt showed clearly in his face 
 McClure took a firm grip of his arm and growled 
 harshly. 
 
 "Keep that till you get back to Akerri! He died 
 white white! You understand?" 
 
 Dobo wasn't sure, but the threatened wail was 
 stilled. Presently, when McClure's mind had adjusted 
 itself a little and thoughts came to him more clearly, 
 he began to question Dobo, who very reluctantly 
 even at the revolver point led him to the juju wor- 
 shiping-hut. There they came upon a black, tarpaulin- 
 covered carrier's pack. 
 
 It was not closed ; in fact, it was in a state of riotous 
 disorder, as if there had been no time to put things in 
 their proper places. 
 
 But all that was left of Cralla was in it; the whole 
 paraphernalia that had gone to make up that astound 
 ing personality. 
 
 A gray wig that was a masterpiece of the wigmaker's 
 art ; a flowing piece of "real India" ; some little black, 
 flat-sided beads made out of a sticky, gelatinlike sub 
 stance that bore remarkable resemblance to the putty- 
 like marks that decorated Cralla's forehead and cheeks ; 
 bottles, large and small, containing differently shaded 
 dyes; grease paints and spirit gum; tawny-colored 
 pastes of delicately differing shades; little camel's- 
 hair brushes with the dye stain upon them; crinkly 
 false hair of a grayish shade that had helped the illu-
 
 "LIKE A GENTLEMAN UNAFRAID" 335 
 
 sion of the wig; a small, three-paneled shaving mirror 
 a veritable dressing-room in miniature, with sep 
 arate compartment for clothes that had enabled 
 Clavering to produce effects that had altered not only 
 the color of his skin, but also every line of his coun 
 tenance with the facility and ingenuity of a protean 
 artist. 
 
 And Clavering had quite evidently been no mere 
 bungler who had taken the part of Cralla in an ama 
 teurish spirit of adventure. He had been an artist 
 of the first order, who had practised his art to the 
 most minute detail; who had omitted nothing, and 
 who had not only made himself look like a middle- 
 aged Jackrie chief, but had actually been Cralla, chief 
 of Akerri, to the life impressive, fawning, crafty, 
 vicious, and brutal a Jackrie chieftain to his finger 
 tips. 
 
 How he had produced the effect of the puffy lips and 
 cheeks and the sign of Jackrie middle age that had 
 hung about Cralla's flabby throat and all the little 
 effects the thick and mottled skin and the lines and 
 creases that had left only Clavering's eyes and a fairly 
 straight nose is a secret that died with him. 
 
 Dobo could not tell, and McClure questioned him 
 upon everything that chanced to come into his head 
 just then. 
 
 But the dual personality explained many things that 
 had hitherto been very mysterious of which Claver 
 ing's escape through the Yoruba lines at Saganna is 
 a good example. 
 
 Chief Rama, who had been the victim of that fiasco, 
 had threatened to become too independent and, con 
 sequently, dangerous. And Cralla had betrayed him 
 to the government and had had him wiped out in a 
 manner that for sheer subtle devilishness would be 
 hard to equal. The "box seat" Clavering had re-
 
 336 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 ferred to in his "special from the front" also becomes 
 understandable, and the "war correspondent" had 
 written his report iq the little cabin of the government 
 supply-launch that had borne him safely from the 
 scene of the fight. McClure did not know the details 
 of that incident then, but he knew of others; some 
 that have happened in this story and some that have 
 not, and, remembering that evening at Basanna when 
 Cralla had crossed foils with Maybrick, McClure shook 
 his head hopelessly and felt numb with the mystery 
 and the queer magnificence of what Clavering's life 
 and death had been. 
 
 Dobo, the headman, very unwillingly explained that 
 Ilora and he and one or two very influential chiefs had 
 known that Clavering and Cralla were the same, and, 
 though a few of the smaller fry may have suspected 
 it, the effect their knowledge had upon their attitude 
 toward Clavering was to regard him as being still 
 more of a juju than ever. 
 
 Any white man who could go into a hut and in half 
 an hour come out of it a Jackrie chief was undoubt 
 edly a supernatural being. 
 
 Also, according to Dobo, Cralla had originally come 
 from a "far country" which is the Jackrie equivalent 
 for anywhere outside Jackriedom and, settling in 
 Akerri, had quickly insinuated himself into the posi 
 tion of chief. Some of the most important Jackrie 
 chiefs had resented the intrusion, but they had speedily 
 been brought to terms, and Cralla or Clavering 
 had not looked back from that moment. 
 
 There was nothing in the pack to indicate who 
 Clavering had been or whence he had come. McClure 
 learned nothing of his beginnings whatsoever. No 
 one ever did. He died as he had lived, queerly and 
 uncannily, estranged from his color and his kin. 
 
 Of the man himself, he was an enigma; but it i?
 
 "LIKE A GENTLEMAN UNAFRAID" 337 
 
 reasonably certain that in Cralla he portrayed the 
 creature that had lurked under Clavering's skin; that 
 wild, murderous animal that had found its level among 
 those to whose habits and customs Clavering had 
 descended. 
 
 Clavering, the spectacular gambler with fate the 
 man with the ragged edges of a soul who had tried 
 vainly to lift himself once more to the level of the 
 blue-eyed, motherly little woman who had flirted her 
 way into his heart that man unmistakably had had 
 the beginnings of a gentleman. 
 
 But Cralla well, he was a Jackrie, and he was 
 unquestionably the stronger personality of the two. 
 Many times had Cralla shown through the individual 
 ity of Clavering, but not once until the great test came 
 did the white man show above Cralla's tawny skin. 
 
 The solitary and ugly reference he had made to his 
 mother might have explained much had he been a 
 little more generous with the details. 
 
 Maybrick and his fellow lieutenants when they re 
 turned from "the chase" were all very much startled 
 to learn that Cralla and Clavering were one and the 
 same. In fact, startled is not the word. Petrified is 
 better. 
 
 And when they looked into the carrier's pack and 
 heard McClure's story and understood it, their first 
 feeling of satisfaction that the notorious outlaw was 
 dead gave way to a quite different sort of sensation 
 that made them look down upon Clavering's clay with 
 a new and silent respect. 
 
 Lieutenant Dale was the first to speak. 
 
 "Let's that is let's bury them decently," he man 
 aged to say, and it was as if Solomon had spoken 
 because their minds Maybrick's particularly were 
 trying to believe that the Gralla they had known and 
 greeted time and again was the man who had turned
 
 338 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 Nigeria upside down and had died that a little white 
 woman might live. 
 
 And while several Yorubas were busy with machetes, 
 scooping out two long, narrow holes in the soft ground 
 just outside the juju worshiping hut, Lieutenant Dale 
 fashioned a rude cross out of mango-sticks. When 
 the graves had been dug and were filled he stepped 
 forward rather guiltily and stuck it into the ground at 
 Clavering's head. 
 
 There was something crudely cut upon each side of 
 the crosspiece letters that stood out white and strong 
 against the tawny-colored mango-bark. The others 
 went forward to read what Dale had done with his 
 pocket-knife. 
 
 CLAVERING CRALLA 
 
 Just that and nothing more. 
 
 "Wonder which will last longer?" Dale questioned 
 simply, suggesting that he had a mind that could stray 
 a considerable distance from bullets and battle when 
 the occasion demanded it. 
 
 No one answered. When McClure stuck a sprig of 
 evergreen at Ilora's head no one questioned why. 
 
 Maybrick, who was stroking his chin reflectively, 
 said quite suddenly and harshly, as if he had a griev 
 ance against everybody in general : 
 
 "Oh, rats ! I'm going to do it, anyway !" 
 
 And in less than a minute he had a squad of Yoru 
 bas drawn up beside those two rising heaps, and three 
 sharp but very solemn volleys were fired across them 
 in respect for a thing that had been done not with 
 the blare of trumpets or in the passion or the madness 
 of a moment, but with the quiet, deliberate calm of "a 
 gentleman unafraid."
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 THE HEADSTONE 
 
 OF the return to Tulami it is only necessary to state 
 that it was quiet very quiet. 
 
 The officers agreed to allow McClure to tell Miss 
 Severoid the story. McClure said little. 
 
 Even under these circumstances he was having con 
 siderable difficulty in treating Maybrick civilly. Mc 
 Clure had an uncomfortably long memory. 
 
 Looking more like a butcher's killer than ever, he 
 washed off the traces of the night's and morning's 
 conflict and patched himself in a dozen little places 
 ere he met Miss Severoid in the latter's hut. 
 
 They looked at each other for minutes before either 
 spoke, and understood each other perfectly without 
 a word. 
 
 Ralph was conveniently asleep. With strife and 
 death all about him, he had done little else than sleep 
 since he had recovered consciousness, and the good 
 effects were noticeable. 
 
 "He he's my brother," Miss Severoid hazarded 
 at last, and hoped none of the officers would come in. 
 
 McClure did not move an eyelash. 
 
 "I see. How is he? A little better?" 
 
 Miss Severoid gulped. McClure's heavy sort of 
 patience and resignation were difficult to understand 
 sometimes. 
 
 "Y-yes thanks lots. I I meant to tell you, 
 
 339
 
 340 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 but " She went a little nearer. "Gracious! How 
 your clothes are torn! And your hand is hurt! Let 
 me" 
 
 "That's all right," McClure interrupted, and covered 
 the crude bandage that was wound about the incision 
 Ilora's teeth had made. "We are moving south in 
 an hour with Dale's company. Everything's all over, 
 and in less than a week you'll be on board ship. 
 How's that?" 
 
 Miss Severoid did not seem to like it very much. 
 
 "I did did he tell you anything about a wager ?" 
 
 "Nothing in detail. Said I was to tell you it was 
 all off, and that he was sorry about it. And he said 
 something, too, about taking your advice on the ques 
 tion of color. But that was all." 
 
 "Why! Where did you where is he? He 
 couldn't come here, of course !" 
 
 "Er no he couldn't come here." 
 
 "And and he said the wager was off ? Why ? Be 
 cause the Yorubas were here?" 
 
 McClure's eyes dulled. It was harder than he had 
 had any idea it would be. 
 
 "No that is he er he didn't know the Yoru 
 bas were here, and he waited behind to keep those 
 Benin City beasts back. They fought with us, you 
 know, and we left them behind. But he knew they'd 
 be on again worse than ever, and well he waited 
 to keep them back as long as he could to er to give 
 you a chance to get away. And he died." 
 
 His voice had fallen away to a subdued monotone 
 that was funereally deep. Miss Severoid stood very 
 still, looking up at him wonderingly the innocent 
 wonder of a child who has been told that the stars 
 are millions and millions of miles away. 
 
 Then she seemed to understand a trifle better, and 
 the little color that was in her cheeks receded slowly.
 
 THE HEADSTONE 341 
 
 Her fingers fumbled with the tattered sleeve of Mc- 
 Clure's coat. 
 
 "Dead!" she breathed. "He he's dead!" 
 
 McClure nodded. 
 
 "And Cralla? You said before you ran off again 
 that he" 
 
 "He he's dead, too." 
 
 "They they died together?" 
 
 "Together. And were buried together." 
 
 "You you buried a white man with a Jackrie!" 
 
 "We buried a white man who was sometimes a 
 Jackrie, but who died as white as the whitest man 
 who ever lived." 
 
 "You you mean " 
 
 "That Clavering and Cralla were one and the same." 
 
 Miss Severoid's lips parted suddenly and McClure 
 thought she was going to scream. Pain and surprise 
 and not a little horror fought together in her face, and 
 the scream seemed to become more imminent. But 
 she did not scream nor utter a single word. Her 
 mind, with a wonderful effort, rose above all forms 
 of hysteria except tears, and those sprang into her 
 eyes at once and flowed very, very quietly as McClure 
 led her gently to a camp-chair and stood silently at her 
 side as if to shade her pain from all the world. 
 
 She had a suffocating sensation of wanting to put 
 the gripping tightness about her heart into words 
 when there were no words for it. 
 
 And then, when the tears had eased the weight a 
 little and the first sharp pain of the shock had dimin 
 ished, she found enough voice to ask questions, which 
 McClure answered as best he could ; so that the men 
 tion of Covering's name made her throat and eyes 
 fill very readily forever afterward. 
 
 That Clavering had been Cralla was a distortion to 
 which her mind could not adjust itself for days, even
 
 342 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 though she immediately recalled how she had re 
 peatedly distrusted Cralla's eyes and mouth, and 
 remembered how Clavering's demoniacal outburst of 
 the previous morning resembled Cralla's inhuman rage 
 when he had struck McClure across the eyes with the 
 hippo-hide thong. 
 
 But even remembering these things, it was still 
 an inconceivable, fantastic, irreconcilable combination, 
 principally because she could not associate the syco 
 phantic Jackrie chief with the thing that Clavering 
 had done for her. 
 
 And that was the memory of him she hugged in 
 her breast the only one triumphant above all other 
 things ; a memory that, when it ceased to stifle, wrapped 
 her heart about with a soft, exhilarating warmth as, 
 her mission ended and her appalling task so wonder 
 fully accomplished, she turned her face toward the 
 south and left Tulami behind with the harsh sound of 
 Yoruba huzzas in her ears. 
 
 Heavy, large and patient as usual, McClure asked 
 no questions about the wager nor about any of the 
 several little matters that were doubtful to him. It 
 was not until they reached Saloko and had astounded 
 the West African world with the news they had 
 brought that there was any sort of an opportunity for 
 an eye-to-eye conference about things. 
 
 It took place on Marsden & Co.'s launch Rover as 
 it sped Segwanga-ward, with Saloko's good wishes 
 dying out in the distance. 
 
 Ralph was in the cabin looking much better, his 
 rapid recovery being due more to mind than medicine, 
 but principally to "Bess," who, as some one in Saloko 
 remarked with a fair amount of truth, "would make 
 anybody get well." 
 
 The boy was still weak, but there was a grip of life 
 in his face; his shoulder was healing properly and
 
 THE HEADSTONE 343 
 
 rapidly and his hair was growing which latter prob 
 lem had disturbed his sister not a little. 
 
 She had just left him, having heard him say once 
 more that he was a "rotter" and was sorry for every 
 thing he had ever done ; and with a tender smile upon 
 her lips she joined McClure on deck. 
 
 "Ralph's just told me again he's sorry," she said 
 dubiously. "I wonder if it's just because he's sick?" 
 
 McClure adjusted the deck-chair pillow for her 
 head with that quiet, unostentatious consideration she 
 had come to expect and was sure she would miss very 
 much. 
 
 "Oh, give him the benefit of the doubt," he said 
 generously, and seemed to be paying more attention 
 to a canoe race than to his companion. "Man or boy, 
 no one is altogether responsible for what he does 
 out here." 
 
 Miss Severoid's mouth tightened. 
 
 "But but it wasn't out here. It was at home." 
 
 McClure' s glance switched slowly to her troubled 
 face and remained there. 
 
 "I see." 
 
 His hand went out and closed upon hers. She did 
 not draw it away, and they sat in silence for a longer 
 time than either knew, each waiting for the other to 
 speak. 
 
 "What I said in Basanna, stands before you tell 
 me anything," McClure said at last very quietly and 
 firmly. "And it will stand afterward, too. Are we 
 going to have the ceremony first and the explanations 
 afterward? It's all the same to me." 
 
 And Miss Severoid drew her hand away very slowly. 
 
 "He he nearly killed a man and and they put 
 him in prison and " 
 
 "That means you need help, doesn't it?" came the 
 steady interruption. "Think I'm big enough?"
 
 344 THE BITE OF BENIN 
 
 He rose and stood over her suddenly. 
 
 "Or is it that I don't make love with the finish of a 
 matinee idol? I can't do that, little woman. Life's 
 always been a pretty serious problem with me though 
 I may have pretended to laugh at most of it and I 
 can't gush." 
 
 He stooped and, before she could make any sort of 
 protest that mattered, he had lifted her out of her chair 
 and up into his arms. And that before all the river 
 world ! 
 
 "Let's go and see what Ralph has to say about it," 
 and he moved with his faintly struggling burden to 
 ward the cabin. 
 
 "Bu but gracious! You can't " 
 
 McClure's mustache smothered the rest of it, and 
 Ralph, seeing two small, white buckskin shoes dan 
 gling peacefully in mid-air just within his range of 
 vision through the cabin doorway, wondered what on 
 earth his amazing sister was trying to do. 
 
 But she had stopped trying. 
 
 She had succeeded. 
 
 All this happened while the Great White Queen 
 was yet at Windsor, and Benin City is no longer the 
 infernal city, though doubtless it is woolly enough 
 still. But the government is there, accompanied by 
 a few white trading stores and other signs of less 
 bloodthirsty times than Daka's. 
 
 Several years after the city was cleared of Benis by 
 large, cone-pointed juju monsters that came through 
 the air from a far country and, dropping over the 
 great mud wall, burst with a thunderous roar and 
 scattered destruction all round about, a lieutenant of 
 the "Waff's" named Dale was passing south from the 
 city on his way to Saloko. 
 
 "Wonder if my headstone's still to the fore?" he
 
 THE HEADSTONE 345 
 
 muttered to himself as he came to a little path that 
 led to a jufu worshiping hut. 
 
 So he strolled in to see. 
 
 A lizard with a golden head and a tail of blue-black 
 ink, basking in the sun upon Ilora's grave, scurried 
 away at Dale's approach. McClure's sprig of ever 
 green had vanished in a thunder-storm long, long ago. 
 
 The mango-stick cross had been battered by many 
 rains and, having fallen over upon one side, a part of 
 the cross-piece had become embedded in the soft, 
 swampy ground. When Dale tried to raise the cross 
 into an upright position, most of the right side of the 
 cross-piece came away in his hand. 
 
 But the other half held. 
 
 And as he stuck the battered "headstone" into place, 
 Dale smiled whimsically, and cut the letters that were 
 left so that they stood out white and clear again thus : 
 
 CLAVERING 
 Cralla's name had rotted away. 
 
 THE END
 
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