If I could reach the path, it would do; but----" The Okapi straightway continued up the dark river, through the silence of the sombre woods, and the old man drank his coffee, and then gave himself up to the pleasure of tobacco, with his dull eyes fixed on Compton.
In the afternoon he pointed to a palm-tree.

"There is a path," he said.
"Is there anything you would like ?" asked Compton.
"Coffee is good, and tobacco is a great comforter." They made him up a packet of these luxuries, and added a blanket.
"Allah is good," he muttered.
"After we have recovered the wise woman, maybe we will search you out, for we look, then, for the Garden of Rest." "Ay, so he called it.

The Garden of Rest, and the gates thereof.
Ay, I would see the place again." "You know it ?" Compton said eagerly.

"Then you must have known my father." "A white man I knew, effendi.

The good white man, many years ago; and my old eyes told me that you were of his blood.