The early watches passed quietly. A second sentinel replaced the first. Up to this time Winkleman had slept quietly. Now he began to shift position often, to twist and turn, finally to groan softly. The sentinel came to the end of the _banda_ and looked in. To him _Bwana_ Nyele raised a face so ghastly that even the half-savage porter was startled. The man's eyes seemed to have sunk into his head, deep seams to have creased his brow and jaws. Apparently Winkleman was on the point of dissolution.
The sentinel took the canteen from the peg where it hung and bent over the dying man. Instantly his throat was clasped by a pair of heavy and powerful hands.
Two minutes later Winkleman rose to his feet free. The porter's knife in his hand, he looked down on that unfortunate securely bound and gagged. Treading softly Winkleman stepped through the sleeping camp into the clear. He drew a deep breath. Then unconsciously wiping from his face the mixture of grease and ashes that had constituted his "make-up," he strode grimly away toward his own safari.
The Leopard Woman watched the safari file down the distant hill and lose itself beneath the green plumes of the papyrus swamp. By all right she should have rejoiced. Against every probability she had succeeded. The stars had worked for her. Though the prearranged plan had not carried in any of its details, nevertheless the sought-for result had been gained. She had herself done little to detain Kingozi; yet he had been detained; and here was Winkleman, belated but in time, to carry out triumphantly the wishes of the Imperial Government. But her heart was like lead.
After the first droop Kingozi had straightened beneath the blow, and now sat bolt upright, staring straight before him, as a king might have sat alone on his throne. Whatever was coming, he would front it serenely.
The head of the safari appeared at the foot of the slope. It seemed a trifle uncertain as to where to go next, but catching sight of Kingozi's tents, it turned up the hill. Cazi Moto's keen eyes were searching out every detail; those of the Leopard Woman had suddenly become suffused with tears.
"It is a rich safari, _bwana_," Cazi Moto reported; "many loads." His voice sharpened with surprise, but he did not raise his tones. "Simba is there," said he.