Fires of Tohr 01

A hot red sun burns its swift way down through the west, its broad orange shafts painting in bold relief, grey bowls of giant trees. Four whites, their bodies only half-covered by ragged, trail-worn clothing cut their way through a dense mass of tangled underbrush and emerge into a small natural clearing.

Four exhausted whites, three men and a young woman. that remains of the once great Burton Ashley expedition, which left Nairobi many weeks back with a long queue of Amazulu fighting men, Swahili trackers and Uganda carriers to plunge into the trackless jungles of South Central Africa in search of the ancient and forgotten city of Tor. The little party consists of major Burton Ashley, head of the Enterprise,

Jeanette Burton, his American ward, Terence O'Rourke, a happy-go-lucky adventurer, and the the inscrutable Chinese scientist, Dr. Wang Tai. As they break through into the tearing, the noises of the great jungle seem for the moment hush to a mere echo of blurred sound, rising and falling like the surf on a remote shore.

It's hot. I think we've gone far enough for one day. Camp here in the morning. And in the morning Uncle Jim will cut our way through more jungle. By the saints of the old side, little of that goes a long way.

It's worked for blacks, not for white men. You said it, Terry. I feel as though I've been cutting thorn bush soup for ages at least. I'll admit Uncle Jim, I am tired. You will do my dear.

You're as good a man as any other. Shin, shin, pupa, howl. Which means, Dr. Wong? It is an aphorism of the great Chinese philosopher Kung Putsai, Confucius. It means true gold, he is no fire.