Again Sanders E-Book

Edgar Wallace

• Herausgeber: David De Angelis
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

“Again Sanders” is a collection of twelve short stories written by Edgar Wallace. The tales are all loosely connected and centre on Lt. Augustus "Bones" Tibbetts. Part of his famous “African novels” (“Sanders of the River” series), this volume is highly recommended for those who have read and enjoyed others in the series, and it would make for a worthy addition to any collection. Richard Horatio Edgar Wallace (1 April 1875 – 10 February 1932) was an English writer and journalist. He was a prolific writer, producing in his lifetime screen plays, historical non-fiction, poetry, 18 stage plays, over 170 novels, and 957 short stories.

Leseprobe

Again Sanders

By

Edgar Wallace

1928

© David De Angelis 2017 – all rights reserved

CONTENTS

1. BONES AND THE BEE

2. THE TERRIBLE TALKER

3. THY NEIGHBOUR AS THYSELF

4. THE GHOST WALKER

5. THE KING'S SCEPTRE

6. IN THE MANNER OF LIPSTICK

7. THE SPLENDID THINGS

8. BONES THE PSYCHIC

9. THE RICH WOMAN

10. THE KEEPERS OF THE TREASURE

11. THE PRESENT

12. M'GALA THE ACCURST

1. BONES AND THE BEE

MAKARA, Chief of Kobala'ba, was paddled down the river to within ten miles of the residency, and here he hired new paddlers from a lower-river village, leaving the ten girls who had paddled him so far in charge of the village headman.

He was young and skinny and beautiful to see, for not only did he wear the robe of monkey skins which is the robe of his rank, but his forearms were invisible under brass bangles; his hair was dyed red with ingola, his legs shone with oil, and he wore anklets of copper that clinked as he walked to the residency, where Mr. Sanders awaited him.

"I see you, lord Sandi," he greeted the Commissioner, and his voice had the quality of boredom and weariness.

"I see you, little chief," said Sanders, and there was acid in his tone. "And yet as I sat here before my fine house watching you come from the river, I had a strange thought. For it seemed to me that you were not Makara, son of Lebulana, son of Elibi that warrior, but a dancing woman of Kobala'ba, such as a man can buy for a thousand matakos." If Makara felt shame he showed none.

"In my land all men are pretty," he said complacently. "Even in Kobala'ba I wear a feather in my hair and sometimes about my waist."

Sanders showed his teeth in a smile that was entirely mirthless.

"Rather would I see you with a spear in your hand and a shield on your arm, Makara," he said. "It seems that there are too many women in Kobala'ba—"

"Lord," said Makara eagerly, "that is why I came; for soon your lordship will send to us for the rubber and fish which you steal from us every year for your government, and because we are few men we have nothing to give."

Sanders took a cheroot from his pocket and lit it before he replied, his audience watching him anxiously.

"Was there tribute when I sent before?" asked Sanders. "And when I sent before then, did I find skins and rubber, and before then, even? Makara, your people of all the people on the river pay no tax to my king. And because you are far away and I cannot come in my little ship along the shallow river, I think you laugh at me. Strange stories come along the river to me—of women who hunt and women who fish, and women who build houses. It seems that there is a new race of slaves growing under my eyes; slaves who are penned like dogs and beaten like dogs. Which is against all the laws of all the tribes, but terribly against my law. Some day I will come and see."