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.the track was the best part of thirty feet wide the canes on each side had bent over under the weight of their feathery tops to meet overhead, thus forming an arched corridor.Ginger stared at this fantastic highway in amazement.He couldn't understand it.Only an enormous herd of buffaloes could have made such a track, and he had been under the.impression that the great herds that once roamed Africa existed no longer.None was in sight, although some had been there recently, for there were fresh droppings everywhere.Indeed, he could smell the beasts and, of course, he had heard one bellow, so they could not be far away.Still standing there, staring, a light-coloured object lying beside the track not far away aroused his curiosity, and he walked forward cautiously to investigate it.It was, he found, a hide; the hide of a calf, recently dead.The blood on it was still red.The hoofs were worn, as if with hard travelling.But the significance of these details was overwhelmed by another, one which gave Ginger his first suspicion of the truth.The hide was brown and white.It was not the skin of a buffalo.It was the coat of a young domestic cow.The flesh had been eaten and the hide discarded.The explanation was so obvious that it hit Ginger like a thunderclap, as the saying is.He remembered that he was in the West Rift Valley, which followed the base of the mountains.He understood now why there were no jagged stumps of bamboos under his feet.Dropping on his knees he confirmed it.The bamboos had been cut.Cut flush with the ground.The whole thing was artificial, man-made.And the man who had caused it to be made, Ginger knew, without a shadow of doubt, was the Black Elephant.This was the way he came.This was the secret track up which he drove his stolen cattle, screened from all sides, and from above.No wonder he could vanish at will!Ginger looked at his compass.The road ran almost due north and south—the direction, of course, of the Rift Valley.Hoof-prints showed that a herd of cattle had lately moved north.Biggles had been right.The cattle, if not the raiders, were moving northward.There must, Ginger, reasoned, be two parties.The Black Elephant's personal mob of thieves and murderers and a body of men in charge of the stolen cattle.All weariness banished, by this momentous discovery, Ginger hastened back to the place where he had struck the road, and lost no time in removing himself from it.Knowing what the result would be if he were found on it he his way back to his proposed camp, slightly breathless, to digest the startling information on which he had stumbled.He was now more than ever anxious to make contact with Biggles, but he could not see how this was to be achieved.Biggles! The light was fast fading, but there was still time for him to come over for a final reconnaissance to learn how far he, Ginger, had got.Hardly had the thought struck him than he heard the machine coming.This threw him into a quandary.Light a fire he dared not, for fear the smoke was seen by Cetezulu's men, some of who, he felt sure, were not far away.Moreover, if he did light a fire, the chances were that Biggles would circle low to have a look at him.This again could hardly fail to arouse the curiosity of Cetezulu’s gang.On the other hand, if he did not light a fire, Biggles would, as he had in fact said, assume that he had met with an accident.In that case he would soon be along on.foot to find him, with results that might also be catastrophic.In the end Ginger did nothing.He heard the machine go on—indeed he saw it, fairly high up; but he made no signal.It was a risk he dared not take.What he would do in the morning he did not know; but he would at least have had time to think the matter over.The aircraft circled for a while, getting farther and farther away.Then drone faded and he heard it no more.Deep night settled on the scene.A long way off a lion roared.For some time Ginger sat with his rifle across his knees, listening for sounds of movement on the secret road.If men or cattle were there it should be possible hear them, he thought.Much now depended on it.However, no sounds came.Presently, with difficulty, he collected some dry brushwood, so that he could light a fire quickly should any nocturnal prowlers behave threateningly.If any appeared he did not see them.He munched some biscuits without enjoying them, eyes always alert.The night wore on.Still no sounds came from the track through the bamboo.Men, he reasoned, might move silently; but not cattle [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]