Part 35 (1/2)
The dry sand had turned the corpse entrusted to its keeping into a yellow-brown mummy. I told Gunga Da.s.s to stand off while I examined it.
The body--clad in an olive-green hunting-suit much stained and worn, with leather pads on the shoulders--was that of a man between thirty and forty, above middle height, with light, sandy hair, long mustache, and a rough unkempt beard. The left canine of the upper jaw was missing, and a portion of the lobe of the right ear was gone. On the second finger of the left hand was a ring--a s.h.i.+eld-shaped bloodstone set in gold, with a monogram that might have been either ”B.K.” or ”B.L.” On the third finger of the right hand was a silver ring in the shape of a coiled cobra, much worn and tarnished. Gunga Da.s.s deposited a handful of trifles he had picked out of the burrow at my feet, and, covering the face of the body with my handkerchief, I turned to examine these. I give the full list in the hope that it may lead to the identification of the unfortunate man:
1. Bowl of a briarwood pipe, serrated at the edge; much worn and blackened; bound with string at the crew.
2. Two patent-lever keys; wards of both broken.
3. Tortoise-sh.e.l.l-handled penknife, silver or nickel name-plate, marked with monogram ”B.K.”
4. Envelope, postmark Undecipherable, bearing a Victorian stamp, addressed to ”Miss Mon-” (rest illegible) -”ham-'nt.”
5. Imitation crocodile-skin notebook with pencil. First forty-five pages blank; four and a half illegible; fifteen others filled with private memoranda relating chiefly to three persons--a Mrs. L. Singleton, abbreviated several times to ”Lot Single,” ”Mrs. S. May,” and ”Garmison,” referred to in places as ”Jerry” or ”Jack.”
6. Handle of small-sized hunting-knife. Blade snapped short. Buck's horn, diamond cut, with swivel and ring on the b.u.t.t; fragment of cotton cord attached.
It must not be supposed that I inventoried all these things on the spot as fully as I have here written them down. The notebook first attracted my attention, and I put it in my pocket with a view of studying it later on.
The rest of the articles I conveyed to my burrow for safety's sake, and there being a methodical man, I inventoried them. I then returned to the corpse and ordered Gunga Da.s.s to help me to carry it out to the river-front. While we were engaged in this, the exploded sh.e.l.l of an old brown cartridge dropped out of one of the pockets and rolled at my feet.
Gunga Da.s.s had not seen it; and I fell to thinking that a man does not carry exploded cartridge-cases, especially ”browns,” which will not bear loading twice, about with him when shooting. In other words, that cartridge-case had been fired inside the crater. Consequently there must be a gun somewhere. I was on the verge of asking Gunga Da.s.s, but checked myself, knowing that he would lie. We laid the body down on the edge of the quicksand by the tussocks. It was my intention to push it out and let it be swallowed up--the only possible mode of burial that I could think of. I ordered Gunga Da.s.s to go away.
Then I gingerly put the corpse out on the quicksand. In doing so--it was lying face downward--I tore the frail and rotten khaki shooting-coat open, disclosing a hideous cavity in the back. I have already told you that the dry sand had, as it were, mummified the body. A moment's glance showed that the gaping hole had been caused by a gun-shot wound; the gun must have been fired with the muzzle almost touching the back. The shooting-coat, being intact, had been drawn over the body after death, which must have been instantaneous. The secret of the poor wretch's death was plain to me in a flash. Some one of the crater, presumably Gunga Da.s.s, must have shot him with his own gun--the gun that fitted the brown cartridges. He had never attempted to escape in the face of the rifle-fire from the boat.
I pushed the corpse out hastily, and saw it sink from sight literally in a few seconds. I shuddered as I watched. In a dazed, half-conscious way I turned to peruse the notebook. A stained and discolored slip of paper bad been inserted between the binding and the back, and dropped out as I opened the pages. This is what it contained:--”Four out from crow-clump: three left; nine out; two right; three back; two left; fourteen out; two left; seven out; one left; nine back; two right; six back; four right; seven back.” The paper had been burned and charred at the edges. What it meant I could not understand. I sat down on the dried bents turning it over and over between my fingers, until I was aware of Gunga Da.s.s standing immediately behind me with glowing eyes and outstretched hands.
”Have you got it?” he panted. ”Will you not let me look at it also? I swear that I will return it.”
”Got what? Return what?” asked.
”That which you have in your hands. It will help us both.” He stretched out his long, bird-like talons, trembling with eagerness.
”I could never find it,” he continued. ”He had secreted it about his person. Therefore I shot him, but nevertheless I was unable to obtain it.”
Gunga Da.s.s had quite forgotten his little fiction about the rifle-bullet. I received the information perfectly calmly. Morality is blunted by consorting with the Dead who are alive.
”What on earth are you raving about? What is it you want me to give you?”
”The piece of paper in the notebook. It will help us both. Oh, you fool!
You fool! Can you not see what it will do for us? We shall escape!”
His voice rose almost to a scream, and he danced with excitement before me. I own I was moved at the chance of my getting away.
”Don't skip! Explain yourself. Do you mean to say that this slip of paper will help us? What does it mean?”
”Read it aloud! Read it aloud! I beg and I pray you to read it aloud.”
I did so. Gunga Da.s.s listened delightedly, and drew an irregular line in the sand with his fingers.
”See now! It was the length of his gun-barrels without the stock. I have those barrels. Four gun-barrels out from the place where I caught crows straight out; do you follow me? Then three left--Ah! how well I remember when that man worked it out night after night Then nine out, and so on.