Rieten exclaimed. "Look at that! There is nothing Wagabi or Batwa or Wambuttu or Wabotu about these heads. Nor anything pigmy either."
"I thought as much," said Etcham.
"And you say he did not have them before?"
"To a certainty he did not," Etcham asserted.
"It is worth following up," said Van Rieten. "I'll go with you. And first of all, I'll do my best to save Stone."
Nothing but Etcham's fever of solicitude could have taken him in five days over the track. It took him eight days to retrace with full knowledge of it and our party to help. We could not have done it in seven, and Etcham urged us on, in a repressed fury of anxiety, no mere fever of duty to his chief, but a real ardor of devotion, a glow of personal adoration for Stone which blazed under his dry conventional exterior and showed in spite of him.
What starts out as an ordinary explorers-in-the-heart-of-Africa story turns into a deliciously gruesome horror story with shrunken heads and a lover's curse.
Great story for just before bedtime on a camping trip.
Gruesome horror story about an English explorer in the African jungle. It was unique, and it held my interest.
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