Rokoff's tent stood almost exactly in the centre of the boma.
Surrounding it were the tents and shelters of his white companions
and the natives of his safari. To pass through these and find
egress through the boma seemed a task too fraught with insurmountable
obstacles to warrant even the slightest consideration, and yet
there was no other way.
To remain in the tent until she should be discovered would be to
set at naught all that she had risked to gain her freedom, and so
with stealthy step and every sense alert she approached the back
of the tent to set out upon the first stage of her adventure.
Groping along the rear of the canvas wall, she found that there
was no opening there. Quickly she returned to the side of the
unconscious Russian. In his belt her groping fingers came upon
the hilt of a long hunting-knife, and with this she cut a hole in
the back wall of the tent.
Silently she stepped without. To her immense relief she saw that
the camp was apparently asleep. In the dim and flickering light
of the dying fires she saw but a single sentry, and he was dozing
upon his haunches at the opposite side of the enclosure.
Keeping the tent between him and herself, she crossed between the
small shelters of the native porters to the boma wall beyond.
Outside, in the darkness of the tangled jungle, she could hear
the roaring of lions, the laughing of hyenas, and the countless,
nameless noises of the midnight jungle.
Pages:
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179