"Perhaps some kind of white settlement is located in the vicinity or some kind of mission."
"For three days the wind has blown from the west, or from a region unknown and in all probability as uninhabited as this jungle. You know that here there are no settlements or missions."
"This is really curious."
"We had better get that kite."
"It is necessary. Perhaps we may ascertain where it came from."
The captain gave the order. The tree was a few tens of yards high, but the negroes climbed at once to the top, removed carefully the imprisoned kite, and handed it to the doctor who, glancing at it, said:
"There is some kind of inscription on it. We'll see." And blinking with his eyes he began to read.
Suddenly his face changed, his hands trembled.
"Glenn," he said, "take this, read it, and assure me that I did not get a sunstroke and that I am in my sound mind."
The captain took the bamboo frame to which a sheet was fastened and read as follows:
"Nelly Rawlinson and Stanislas Tarkowski, sent from Khartûm to Fashoda and conducted from Fashoda east from the Nile, escaped from the dervishes. After long months' travel they arrived at a lake lying south of Abyssinia. They are going to the ocean. They beg for speedy help."
At the side of the sheet they found the following addition written in smaller letters:
"This kite, the 54th in order, was flown from the mountains surrounding a lake unknown to geography. Whoever finds it should notify the Directory of the Canal at Port Said or Captain Glenn in Mombasa.
Stanislas Tarkowski."
