Dracula of the Apes 3, стр. 36
“I’m going to trust you with my greatest treasure instead,” Gusher told the captain one night over a bottle of whisky. “My dear Lilly...”
All that was years ago, and now the ranger was on what he considered to be his last mission after being ordered by Gusher to take Lilly and retinue to London where they would wait with relatives until being summoned to South Africa if the oilman’s business down there was successful...
...which seemed to be the case since Gusher had sent Seward instructions to get boat tickets and bring his daughter.
At his age, the captain knew there was a good chance he’d end his days in South Africa, but he had no powerful yearning to return stateside. His work hadn’t given him time for a family of his own, and what he knew of his pedigree would hardly miss the likes of him.
A Bostonian uncle in business, and a doctor cousin in England were all he knew of, but he’d never contacted them since he couldn’t picture himself drinking tea, and talking to strangers about people he didn’t know.
His only hesitation about this final move had been the serving of his personal passions. He knew there’d be hunting in Africa and like back home everything was big and came with sharp horns or fangs.
But mainly, he feared the relocation would undermine his drinking. They would have liquor in South Africa, that was certain, but he doubted there’d be any tequila.
Captain Seward didn’t think he could settle anywhere without a ready supply of his favorite tipple.
Those thoughts had rambled through Seward’s head at sundown, then loped by for another pass a long while afterward and had been circling him for the hour since the jungle went dead quiet.
As he hiked north, he stared into the lurking shapes of gray and black on his right struggling to tell the trees from shadow, expecting that at any second a murderous ball of muscle, fang and claw could explode from the heavy dark.
Squinting, scowling and staring, Seward swung his pistol right, then left and back as he walked—knowing he’d have to catch some glint of amber from the carnivore’s eye to fire in time if he hoped to survive an attack.
His breath caught when his vision resolved on a big, dark hump. He surged forward growling, pistol ready, but held up as he recognized driftwood and branches piled in an open stretch of sand. Had his nerves not been on end, Seward might have missed it and kept on walking—but his guarded stance blinded him to the ground at his feet, and he stumbled on an uneven surface of compacted sand.
Dropping to one knee, he set his hardwood club aside to feel the dew-damp sand, and there made out the deep imprint of a foot. His trembling fingers traced its edges.
This one wasn’t naked and had been made by the tapered sole and broad heel of a boot—and then he found another.
People were near. Perhaps he had found the other survivors!
CHAPTER 15 – Thief in the Night
The ranger rose to investigate the pile of wood before him, and with his free hand identified snapped and splintered end pieces, and in other places hard, straight cuts that a sharp axe could make!
There were other people near, and this was their signal fire.
But he reined in his jubilation, aware that while it had been made by someone wearing boots; it was built in a savage land. He would be foolish to call out hoping it was his group, or civilized men!
For all he knew the mutineers had returned...
...and the continuing jungle silence had yet to raise its voice. The only sound was the constant lap of wave on shore.
So by hit and miss, the ranger found more tracks in the sand, and these led him to a greater disturbance where more foot traffic had passed.
Seward stared into the shadows, and soon recognized that while the pale sand beach ran out of sight to north and south, here by the signal fire it swept in toward the jungle as two arching crescents, and where they intersected he noticed a sandy path leading into the trees.
With pistol in one hand and makeshift club in the other, the captain moved to stand before this gap, knowing that without a light or lantern, it would be suicide to proceed before morning.
A glance skyward showed him stars and scudding clouds lit by a hidden moon, and then he faced the shadows again. Dead, he would be no use to the Quarries.
But that thought was fractured when a dim yellow light glimmered and bobbed in the distance, and he could not resist a step or three toward it...
...to where he stopped by a great pale thing beneath the trees on his left.
The Lancet’s lifeboat!
So these were tracks his friends had made!
Staring into the deeper darkness he caught another flickering light joining the first.
“Lilly!” a shrill voice cried.
Seward softly growled the name and with gun before him, he charged toward the lights—as still other voices echoed the same.
“Lilly!” He heard them in the dark; people were crying out for “Lilly!”
Seward rushed along a narrow path where black bloomed to either side, until the trees fell away and sky opened overhead.
Before him a broad gray clearing swept away to distant trees.
Heart thudding with relief and anxiety, he watched the lights revolve around each other like fireflies. Indeed, Seward had found his friends, but they seemed to have lost Lilly!
He hurried toward the flicker and gleam that now moved through the tall grasses toward him—and two lamps resolved out of the glimmer, and a low voice called from the light: “Who goes there?”
The ranger surged out of the darkness and stood where Dr. Van Resen and Jacob stared wide-eyed over a lamp while Miss James and Phillip Holmes brought their flame close behind them.
“Captain Seward—how grand!” Van Resen blurted, hurrying with his lamp toward the big Texan and delivering him a great one-armed hug.
“Lord bless us, Captain,” Jacob