As they melted away in the night, going in the direction of the mountain wall, eight miles away, upon which lay the expedition’s camp, Jack looking after them heaved a tremendous sigh of relief.
“Whew,” he remarked to Niellsen. “I’m glad that’s done. But it worked to perfection, didn’t it?”
Jack was correct. Men, women and children, every inhabitant of the village was in the square. And, therefore, none saw the shadowy forms of the guards pass between the last huts on the outskirts and disappear with their burden.
Nor were they destined ever to see The Prophet again. For, looking ahead, it may be stated that, kept a close prisoner but well treated during the ensuing weeks of the expedition’s stay in that region, The Prophet, whose real name was Professor von Hertwig, was turned over on the return of the expedition to civilization to the Belgian authorities. Examined by alienists and pronounced insane, he was ordered sent to an asylum in Belgium. But on his way down to the coast under guard he contracted a tropical fever which caused his death.
That the man had not been acting solely on his own initiative but had been the tool of cunning minds still at large was the belief of Mr. Ransome, a belief in which Mr. Hampton concurred. But for the time being these “higher ups” remained quiet, and no trace of them could be found.
No trace of Mabele could be found, either. And it seemed likely that he had, indeed, been lost in the storm which swept Lake Victoria the day his stolen canoe was found overturned offshore. As to the radio set of which he had robbed the boys, it still is in all likelihood mouldering in its hiding place near Chief Ungaba’s village. But as they never again passed that way, they could not very well organize an expedition to hunt for it.
A month more the party spent in the Mountains of the Moon, photographing the volcanoes and obtaining some very excellent pictures of lions, leopards, Uganda cobb, elephants, herds of topi, reed-buck, hippopotami and wart-hog. Their bag of animals shot by rifle instead of camera also grew apace.
As for the natives, they could not do enough to display hospitality toward the expedition. For the story of the voice from the sky which had condemned The Prophet to his doom passed from mouth to mouth throughout the vast district faster than if it had been telegraphed, it seemed. At any rate, it had preceded the party wherever they went. And it grew in the telling, so that before long the natives were telling of how after the voice from the sky had spoken, The Prophet was seized by red demons and hurried away into the bowels of Tamlagira, which opened to admit them, displaying the eternal fires of hell leaping high.