The Keepers of the Kings Peace | Page 6

He logged the happening in characteristic language, and was in the
midst of this literary exercise when the tiny steamer charged a
sandbank, and before her engines could slow or reverse she had slid to
the top and rested in two feet of water.
A rueful Bones surveyed the situation and returned to his cabin to
conclude his diary with--
"12.19 struck a reef off B'lidi Bay. Fear vessel total wreck. Boats all
ready for lowering."
As a matter of fact there were neither boats to lower nor need to lower
them, because the crew were already standing in the river (up to their
hips) and were endeavouring to push the Zaire to deep water.
In this they were unsuccessful, and it was not for thirty--six hours until
the river, swollen by heavy rains in the Ochori region, lifted the Zaire
clear of the obstruction, that Bones might record the story of his
salvage.
He had released a reformed M'lama to the greater freedom of the deck,
and save for a shrill passage at arms between that lady and the corporal
she had bitten, there was no sign of a return to her evil ways. She wore
a white pique skirt and a white blouse, and on her head she balanced
deftly, without the aid of pins, a yellow straw hat with long trailing
ribbons of heliotrope. Alternately they trailed behind and before.
"A horrible sight," said Bones, shuddering at his first glimpse of her.
The rest of the journey was uneventful until the Zaire had reached the
northernmost limits of the Residency reserve. Sanders had partly
cleared and wholly drained four square miles of the little peninsula on
which the Residency stood, and by barbed wire and deep cutting had
isolated the government estate from the wild forest land to the north.

Here, the river shoals in the centre, cutting a passage to the sea through
two almost unfathomable channels close to the eastern and western
banks. Bones had locked away his journal and was standing on the
bridge rehearsing the narrative which was to impress his superiors with
a sense of his resourcefulness--and incidentally present himself in the
most favourable light to the new factor which was coming into his daily
life.
He had thought of Hamilton's sister at odd intervals and now...
The Zaire was hugging the western bank so closely that a bold and
agile person might have stepped ashore.
M'lama, the witch, was both bold and agile.
He turned with open mouth to see something white and feminine leap
the space between deck and shore, two heliotrope ribbons streaming
wildly in such breeze as there was.
"Hi! Don't do that... naughty, naughty!" yelled the agonized Bones, but
she had disappeared into the undergrowth before the big paddle--wheel
of the Zaire began to thresh madly astern.
Never was the resourcefulness of Bones more strikingly exemplified.
An ordinary man would have leapt overboard in pursuit, but Bones was
no ordinary man. He remembered in that moment of crisis, the
distressing propensity of his prisoner to the "eradication of garments."
With one stride he was in his cabin and had snatched a counterpane
from his bed, in two bounds he was over the rail on the bank and
running swiftly in the direction the fugitive had taken.
For a little time he did not see her, then he glimpsed the white of a
pique dress, and with a yell of admonition started in pursuit.
She stood hesitating a moment, then fled, but he was on her before she
had gone a dozen yards; the counterpane was flung over her head, and
though she kicked and struggled and indulged in muffled squeaks, he
lifted her up in his arms and staggered back to the boat.

They ran out a gangway plank and across this he passed with his
burden, declining all offers of assistance.
"Close the window," he gasped; "open the door--now, you naughty old
lady!"
He bundled her in, counterpane enmeshed and reduced to helpless
silence, slammed the door and leant panting against the cabin, mopping
his brow.
"Phew!" said Bones, and repeated the inelegant remark many times. All
this happened almost within sight of the quay on which Sanders and
Hamilton were waiting. It was a very important young man who saluted
them.
"All correct, sir," said Bones, stiff as a ramrod; " no casualties-- except
as per my nose which will be noted in the margin of my report-- one
female prisoner secured after heroic chase, which, I trust, sir, you will
duly report to my jolly old superiors---"
"Don't gas so much, Bones," said Hamilton. "Come along and meet my
sister --hullo, what the devil's that?"
They turned with one accord to the forest path.
Two native policemen were coming towards them, and between them a
bedraggled