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ADVENTURE
by Jack London
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CHAPTER I--SOMETHING TO BE DONE

1
    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 carried medicine bottles,
         a pail of hot water,
           and various
               other hospital appurtenances.

    They passed
           out of the compound
         through a small wicker gate,
           and went on
               under the blazing sun,
         winding about
               among new-planted cocoanuts
             that threw no shade.

    There was
           not a breath of wind,

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