But Sana was not there to greet him. Her mother informed him, between
her tears, that Sana had disappeared the day before while out riding.
Where she was she did not know. All she knew was that Sana was not to
be found in the village, and that she believed Sana had been spirited
away by someone in the employ of de Rochelle.
She directed Carl to the hotel where von Sarnoff was staying, saying
that he was getting up a searching party and that no doubt, he would
assist Carl in anything he would do to find the lost one.
“Von Sarnoff?” cried Carl, “I thought he, too, was annoying Sana?”
“He was in the beginning, but when he learned the truth from Sana, he
ceased bothering her, and since then has been only trying to protect
her from de Rochelle.”
With the words--“All right, I’ll see him,” Carl rushed from the house
and hurried to the hotel.
Making himself known to von Sarnoff, Carl sought his aid. Gladly was
the request granted. The searching party would start out early the
following morning, Carl was informed, and as von Sarnoff expressed it,
they would find Sana even if they had to sift the desert sands.
No time was lost the next day in getting away on the search. As they
proceeded, von Sarnoff told Carl that he had learned that the local
telegraph operator had been bribed by de Rochelle and had handed
Carl’s message to Sana over to him.
The village had been searched thoroughly for Sana, and the leader of
the searching party directed the party to the jungle that lies close to
the town, believing that it was there that de Rochelle would take his
captive. Sana was too well known and too well liked in Timbuktoo for de
Rochelle to risk keeping her, against her wish, anywhere in the city.
All that day the little group of searchers beat the bush, but in vain;
Sana was not to be found; nor were they even sure that the hoof prints
they saw in the soft soil were those of the fugitives.
Too late to continue, they camped for the night in the deep jungle,
lying huddled on the ground, trying as best they could to keep warm.
They dared not build a fire for fear it might warn de Rochelle, if he
were near, that he was being followed.
Long before dawn Carl roused the party and again the search was on. No
light was thrown on the trail until about noon one of the hunters found
a hat. Von Sarnoff, rushing to the spot cried--“Lohman--it is Sana’s
hat--we are on the right road after all.”
But as the day went by, their hope of finding Sana grew less and less.
They were getting into the thickest of the jungle, which they were
experiencing great difficulty in penetrating.
Wearily they pushed their way through thorn and underbrush, becoming
more and more discouraged as the hours flew by.
Suddenly, to their startled ears, came the panic stricken shrieks of a
woman and the wild snorting of a horse.
There was no holding them now. No brush grew thick enough to keep them
from hurrying to the spot from which the cries had seemed to come.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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