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Adventure - Jack London

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by Jack London


He was a very sick white man.  He rode pick-a-back on a woolly-
headed, black-skinned savage, the lobes of whose ears had been
pierced and stretched until one had torn out, while the other
carried a circular block of carved wood three inches in diameter.
The torn ear had been pierced again, but this time not so
ambitiously, for the hole accommodated no more than a short clay
pipe.  The man-horse was greasy and dirty, and naked save for an
exceedingly narrow and dirty loin-cloth; but the white man clung to
him closely and desperately.  At times, from weakness, his head
drooped and rested on the woolly pate.  At other times he lifted
his head and stared with swimming eyes at the cocoanut palms that
reeled and swung in the shimmering heat.  He was clad in a thin
undershirt and a strip of cotton cloth, that wrapped about his
waist and descended to his knees.  On his head was a battered
Stetson, known to the trade as a Baden-Powell.  About his middle
was strapped a belt, which carried a large-calibred automatic
pistol and several spare clips, loaded and ready for quick work.

The rear was brought up by a black boy of fourteen or fifteen, who
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