Publisher's Synopsis
He was a very sick white man. He rode pick-a-back on a woolly-headed, black-skinnedsavage, the lobes of whose ears had been pierced and stretched until one had torn out, while the other carried a circular block of carved wood three inches in diameter. The tornear had been pierced again, but this time not so ambitiously, for the hole accommodated nomore than a short clay pipe. The man-horse was greasy and dirty, and naked save for anexceedingly narrow and dirty loin-cloth; but the white man clung to him closely anddesperately. At times, from weakness, his head drooped and rested on the woolly pate. Atother times he lifted his head and stared with swimming eyes at the cocoanut palms thatreeled and swung in the shimmering heat. He was clad in a thin undershirt and a strip ofcotton cloth, that wrapped about his waist and descended to his knees. On his head was abattered Stetson, known to the trade as a Baden-Powell. About his middle was strapped abelt, which carried a large-calibred automatic pistol and several spare clips, loaded andready for quick work.The rear was brought up by a black boy of fourteen or fifteen, who carried medicine bottles, a pail of hot water, and various other hospital appurtenances. They passed out of thecompound through a small wicker gate, and went on under the blazing sun, winding aboutamong new-planted cocoanuts that threw no shade. There was not a breath of wind, andthe superheated, stagnant air was heavy with pestilence. From the direction they weregoing arose a wild clamour, as of lost souls wailing and of men in torment. A long, low shedshowed ahead, grass-walled and grass-thatched, and it was from here that the noiseproceeded. There were shrieks and screams, some unmistakably of grief, othersunmistakably of unendurable pain. As the white man drew closer he could hear a low andcontinuous moaning and groaning. He shuddered at the thought of entering, and for amoment was quite certain that he was going to faint. For that most dreaded of SolomonIsland scourges, dysentery, had struck Berande plantation, and he was all alone to copewith it. Also, he was afflicted himself.By stooping close, still on man-back, he managed to pass through the low doorway. Hetook a small bottle from his follower, and sniffed strong ammonia to clear his senses for theordeal. Then he shouted, "Shut up!" and the clamour stille