The Spider Sapphire Mystery (9 page)

“What’s that?” Bess queried.

“A hyena,” the White Hunter replied.

He and his wife looked at each other. Nancy was sure they were wondering how Swahili Joe had fared. Had some wild beast got the man’s scent and come for him?

Although Nancy disliked Swahili Joe intensely, the thought of such a horrible death for him made her shiver. Then, thinking of what he had been guilty of, she began to reflect who was more cruel and cunning—the wild animals or man?

Ned interrupted her train of thought and said, “Let’s go watch the elephants some more. I want to take a few more pictures.”

They returned to the porch and watched. It seemed to the young people as if the elephants would never get enough water to drink. They moved around very little and only once in a while did they trumpet. This happened when one of them was annoyed by another elephant.

Although Nancy enjoyed the mystical scene in front of her, lighted only by the dim yellow glow of subdued searchlights, her mind kept reverting to the spider sapphire mystery. Here she was in the middle of the jungle and yet the mystery had pursued her on two occasions. First she had been told by one of the Indian guests that he believed there was a fraud in connection with the reported theft of the gem. Then the man believed to be Swahili Joe had suddenly appeared.

“It’s all very weird,” she thought.

The following morning Nancy and the rest of the Emerson group were up early. At breakfast they recounted the various activities of the animals which they had seen. Nancy hardly took part in the conversation. Her mind was still on the mystery. Now she was going back to Nairobi to hear the strange story of Tizam’s disappearance.

That afternoon Nancy and her friends went to have tea with Mrs. Munger. Their hostess proved to be a charming woman who was very well informed on the subjects of African history and jun gle lore.

After tea had been served, she began her story. The guide Tizam had been an unusually intelligent and helpful one. Her safari had reached a rest camp and Tizam had gone off by himself.

“Unfortunately he never returned,” Mrs. Mun ger said. “We felt very sad about it. After we waited a couple of days for him, we interviewed some other guides and then moved on with one of them, named Butubu.”

The new guide had told of seeing a native defending himself against a lioness. From a description of him, she was sure he was Tizam.

Butubu had screamed and beat on trees to distract the beast’s attention. This had given him a chance to throw his spear and kill the lioness.

“Butubu himself was nearly set upon by another lioness, so he ran off to safety. Later he and his friends returned to the spot. The man was not there and they found no trace of him. Apparently he had not been killed because there was no evidence of this.”

“How amazing!” said Nancy. “Then where did he go?”

Mrs. Munger replied, “Perhaps he was found by members of some tribe and taken to their village to be cared for.”

“But he’d be well by this time and could have returned,” Nancy said.

“That’s true,” Mrs. Munger agreed. “That is part of the great mystery surrounding Tizam.”

“THEN there is a good chance that the guide Tizam is alive,” said Nancy. She was excited at the thought of how happy Madame Lilia Bulawaya would be if Nancy succeeded in locating him.

“I hope he is alive,” Munger replied. “He’s a very nice man and I understand talented. I did not find out what it is he does. Acting as a guide was just a sideline.”

When tea was over and the young guests were saying good-by to their hostess, she asked where they were going next.

“To the Mount Kenya Safari Club early tomor. row morning,” Nancy told her.

“That is a beautiful spot,” Mrs. Munger remarked. “With magnificent snow-capped Mount Kenya in the distance and the grounds—Well, you’ll see for yourself.”

The Safari Club and the surrounding country were as beautiful as Mrs. Munger had said. The extensive grounds were attractively laid out, with beautiful gardens and inviting play areas. At the foot of a grassy slope was a series of ponds. One was a swimming pool for guests; the other ponds were homes for various kinds of birds. Crested cranes stalked about the lawns. Swans, both white and rare black ones, swam serenely among water lilies on one of the ponds.

“It’s heavenly here!” Bess remarked. She was admiring the view from the girls’ first-floor bedroom window.

The room was large and had three beds in it. Living-room furniture, attractive drapes, and a fireplace at one end gave the place a cozy atmosphere.

There was a knock on the door and a smiling black boy entered, his arms full of logs. With a pleasant “Good morning,” he knelt down and built a fire. Because of a slight chill in the air, the girls were delighted to have the fire. The boy bowed and went out.

“Since we’re going to be here a little while,” Bess spoke up, “I’m going to hang up my dresses. They really can stand an airing.”

The girls hung up their suits and dresses. They left the rest of their clothes and jewelry in the suitcases.

“It would be fun to have our breakfast in front of this fire,” George remarked, “but we promised to meet the boys, so we’d better go.”

“Actually this is our second breakfast,” Nancy reminded the others. “But I must admit I can use it after that drive up here.”

As usual, Bess said, “I’m starved!”

While the girls were walking through the attractive club to the dining room, Bess remarked, “This looks like a safe place for us to be. No villains, baboons, or anything else to bother us. We can just have fun and forget all the mysteries.”

Nancy made no comment, but she thought that surely her enemies knew the Emerson itinerary. It was doubtful they would leave her and her friends alone.

“I just hope I’ll see them first,” Nancy said to herself.

The breakfast hour was jolly and at the end Nancy suggested that they all put on bathing suits and go to the swimming pool.

“Great idea,” Burt agreed.

“And I can do some sun-tanning,” said George.

Bess warned her cousin to be careful of the strong African sun. “I hear it will give you a terrible burn without you realizing you’re turning to a crisp.”

When the young people left the dining room, Ned and Nancy were last in line. As they strolled through the lobby, Nancy whispered to him, “See that Indian over there in the corner reading a newspaper.”

Ned looked in the direction which she indicated. The man was elderly. He was handsome with his shock of white hair and wore his English-style clothes well.

“That’s some ring he’s wearing,” Ned remarked.

On the little finger of the Indian’s left hand was a ring with a large flashing diamond.

Nancy was more interested in a name penciled in an upper corner of the newspaper. “Ned, it says Tagore! Do you suppose he’s Shastri Tagore?”

“Maybe.”

“Let’s ask the desk clerk,” she suggested.

“Why don’t we just introduce ourselves?” Ned proposed.

Nancy was tempted to follow his suggestion, but on second thought changed her mind. “If it is Mr. Tagore, why don’t I ask when he made his reservation? It’s just possible he came here because of us.”

Ned agreed and went with her to the desk. To the couple’s surprise, they learned that indeed the man was Mr. Shastri Tagore from Mombasa and that he came here year after year at exactly this time.

The clerk seemed somewhat amused at Nancy and Ned’s interest in the man. “Would you like to meet him?” he asked.

Nancy blushed but said, “Yes, I would.”

The clerk escorted the couple to where Mr. Tagore was reading. As soon as introductions were made, he excused himself and returned to his desk.

Mr. Tagore had risen and it was evident at once that he was a very polite and cultured man. “You are from the United States? How interesting! Won’t you sit down? I should like to ask you some questions about your country.”

For several minutes the conversation remained general. Every subject which was touched upon was one with which Mr. Tagore seemed very familiar, even sports in America. He talked with Ned for several minutes about football and then with Nancy about tennis.

“Do you ride?” Mr. Tagore asked them. When both nodded, he said, “If you are ever in Mombasa, I wish you would come to see me. I have horses which I believe you would enjoy riding.”

All this time Nancy was thinking, “How could this fine-appearing gentleman possibly be part of a jewel fraud?” It was some time before it seemed opportune to mention the subject uppermost in her mind but finally the opportunity came. “I understand that you own a fabulous spider sapphire which disappeared.”

“Yes. It was stolen, I am afraid.” Then a puzzled frown crossed his forehead. “But you are from the States. How did you know about this?”

“Because I’m from River Heights,” she answered.

At this, Mr. Tagore looked blank and said, “I do not understand.”

Nancy felt sure that if he did know about Mr. Ramsey’s synthetic gem, he would not have placed much value on it. She was not ready yet, however, to give up trying to find out all she could from him.

Nancy asked, “How would one tell a real spider sapphire from a modern synthetic one?”

The Indian smiled. “I greatly doubt that anyone could fashion such a gem, but if he were clever enough to do so, there would be a sure way to tell the difference.”

Nancy and Ned waited for Mr. Tagore to continue. Here was a marvelous clue! If he chose to tell them—

Mr. Tagore went on, “Millions of years ago the spiders on this earth had no spinnerets. The one in my sapphire has none.”

“How amazing!” Nancy remarked.

She was tempted to tell Mr. Tagore about the Ramsey synthetic gem. No doubt the modem spider in it did have spinnerets. But she decided to find out more about this man before revealing what she knew. Nancy asked him why the ancient spiders apparently did not need to spin threads and weave webs to trap their food.

“The original spiders lived on the water,” Mr. Tagore replied. “Later, when some of them became land arachnids, they developed spinnerets.” He paused for a moment and looked quizzically at Nancy. “I have a feeling, Miss Drew, that there is something of greater interest to you on this subject than the history of spiders.”

Nancy smiled and said, “I heard a rumor that your stolen gem is in the United States.”

Mr. Tagore looked surprised and shook his head. “That is not the truth,” he said. “It is still somewhere in Africa.”

Ned asked, “Where do you think it went?”

The Indian looked around, making sure that no one could hear him. He whispered, “I believe it was taken by a guide who later disappeared.”

“A guide?” Nancy repeated. “You mean a guide on a safari?”

“Exactly. The guide was reported to be looking for a relative of his who was captured by a raiding tribe in the jungle.”

“But you do not believe this story?” Ned queried.

Mr. Tagore thought a moment. “I do not know what to believe. So many theories have come to me that I am utterly confused. But this story about the guide seemed the most likely. I think he is in hiding.”

“What were the names of the guide and the relative he was looking for?” Nancy asked.

“Chotu was the relative—and let me think. Oh yes, the guide’s name was Tizam.”

TIZAM was suspected of being one of the thieves involved in the stolen spider sapphire mystery! Nancy and Ned could not help but show surprise.

Mr. Tagore looked at them puzzled and asked, “You know these men?”

“Not Chotu,” Nancy replied. “But we have heard of Tizam. He has a sister who is a singer. She’s in America. When she learned we were coming to Africa, she mentioned her brother.”

“Did she tell you that he was reported to have disappeared?” the Indian asked.

Nancy felt that she should reveal no more and merely said, “She mentioned something of the sort. Have you any idea where he is?”

“No,” said Mr. Tagore. “If I had, I would send the authorities after him.”

Nancy’s mind was in a whirl. What a strange combination of stories there were about Tizam’s trek into the jungle! He was reported to have been mauled and killed by a lioness. He was supposed to have been rescued but disappeared. Now he was being accused of theft and staying in hiding!

Nancy said to Mr. Tagore, “I certainly hope that the person or persons who took your spider sapphire will be found.”

The couple said good-by and went off. They continued to discuss the strange turn of events, but presently Ned asked, “What’s next on our program, Nancy?”

“We’re all to meet at the swimming pool,” Nancy reminded him.

“Then I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Ned said, and hurried off toward his room.

By the time Nancy had reached hers, Bess and George were already in their suits. Nancy quickly changed and the three girls went outside. The day was sunny and very warm.

“How beautiful Mount Kenya is!” Bess exclaimed, looking into the distance. “Just think! Snow all year round near the equator!”

Tables with umbrellas were set up around the pool. Gwen, looking extremely attractive, came over with Hal to join the girls.

“Water’s wonderful!” she said.

Hal remarked, “Gwen’s a real nymph.” She blushed, but it was evident she enjoyed the compliment.

In a few minutes Ned, Burt, and Dave joined the group. There was a lively exchange of teasing and witty wisecracks.

Presently Ned said, “Fellows, how about a race to the end of the pool and back?”

“Sure thing,” Burt responded and took his place at the edge. Dave swung into position alongside him, Hal next, and Ned fourth.

George was elected to call out the start and to be the judge of the winner. She stood behind the boys and said: