Across the Cameroons Part 8

Harry looked at Cortes, who seemed to be thinking, standing at his full height, his fingers playing with his chin.

"We must not desert your brother," said the boy.

"I am thinking," said the guide, "it will be easier for him to reach us than for you and your friend to go to him. My brother and I are hunters; we can pa.s.s through the bush in silence; we can travel amid the rocks like snakes. I could cross that valley crawling on my face, and the eye of an eagle would not see me. As for you, you are Englishmen; you have not lived your lives in the mountains and the bush; you do not understand these things."

He said this with some scorn in his voice. There was something about the man--despite his European clothes--that was fully in keeping with the aspect of their surroundings, which were savage, relentless, and cruel. He went on in a calm voice, speaking very slowly:

"In this valley we are safe," said he. "I know the country well.

Yonder," and he pointed to the north, "there is a forest that lies upon the hill-side like a mantle. I will guide you. It will take us about two hours to get there. Then I will leave you. You will be quite safe; for many of the trunks of the trees are hollow, and should the Germans come, you can hide. I will go alone to my brother and bring him back with me."

They set forward without delay, sometimes climbing, sometimes walking, on the mountain-side. About four o'clock in the afternoon they sighted the forest of which the man had spoken. It opened out into a mangrove swamp, thousands of feet below them, where the heat hung like a fog.

Among the trees they found themselves in a kind of twilight. By then the sun was setting; but as the daylight dwindled a great moon arose.

Cortes led them to a place, on the verge of a deep ravine, where there was an old tree with a hollow trunk that looked as if it had been struck by lightning.

"You and your friend will remain here," said the man to Harry. "I will be as quick as I can, but in any case I cannot be back until midnight.

If I do not return by then, you will know that I am dead; then--if you are wise--you will go back to Calabar. If the Germans come, you will hide." And he pointed to the hollow tree.

Without another word he set forward on his way, gliding down the face of the living rock like some gigantic lizard.

The two boys found themselves in a place romantic but terrible. On every side they were surrounded by the impenetrable hills. The trees of the forest stood forth in the semi-darkness like great, ghostly giants.

Somewhere near at hand a mountain stream roared and thundered over the rocks. The breeze brought to their nostrils the smell of the swamp lower down the valley. The hollow tree stood on the edge of the bush.

A few yards away was the ravine, the bottom of which was wide and bare and stony.

Throughout the earlier part of the night they possessed their souls in patience. It was stiflingly hot after the cool mountain air.

Harry looked at his watch. It was midnight. There was no sign of the brothers.

Suddenly they heard a stone shifted from its place somewhere in the forest to go rolling down into the ravine. Both stood motionless and expectant.

"I heard something," said Braid.

"So did I," said Harry.

Again a stone was moved, this time nearer than before. Something was approaching through the bush. If this were an enemy they would have small chance of escaping, for the side of the ravine was inaccessible; it was like a precipice.

They waited in suspense, and presently to the great gnarled roots of the very tree by which they were standing, there crawled a dying, wounded mountain goat.

It died almost as it reached them. Indeed, it was almost a miracle that the animal had lived as long as it had, for Harry's bullet had penetrated its chest.

The long night pa.s.sed in waiting, and still there was no sign of the half-caste brothers. It was then that they fully realized for the first time the extreme danger of their mission, that they were alone in the heart of a country which was almost unexplored, cut off from their friends and civilization, with no chance of succour and little of returning in safety to the coast.

"Jim," said Harry, and his voice was husky, "I wonder if we shall ever get out of this alive."

"I can't say, sir," answered Braid; "but I'm sure of this: if we have to die, we'll make a fight of it, at least."

It was then that a sound came to their ears that caused them to hold their breath. It was a loud word of command in the German language, and which, moreover, came from not far away.

They lay down flat upon their faces. Screened by a clump of long gra.s.s, they were able to look down into the ravine, where they beheld a company of German native troops with whom were two or three European officers and several German noncommissioned officers. The men marched well in step, keeping their dressing and acting promptly and smartly at each word of command. Except for their black skins and coa.r.s.e negro features they might have learned their drill on the parade-grounds of Potsdam and Berlin.

The two boys regarded them in consternation, mingled with amazement--due to the fact that in the centre of the company was a European whose hands were bound behind his back and around whose neck was a kind of halter.

Jim Braid recognized this man at once. It was Peter Klein, the spy.

CHAPTER X--When All was Still

Among the native troops was a man who was not dressed in uniform, who was tattooed from head to foot, and who wore upon his head an abundance of coloured feathers. They learned afterwards that he was a medicine or "fetish" man--and "fetish worship" is the curse of the Dark Continent, from Ashanti to the Zambesi. The medicine-men, who profess to practise witchcraft, are far more powerful than the majority of the native kings.

At their bidding innocent people are often put to death, which enables them to use their powers for bribery and corruption.

In the centre of the ravine, immediately below the place where the two boys were hiding, the officer in command called a halt. When the men had fallen out and released their packs from their shoulders, the witch-doctor addressed them in an excited, high-pitched voice. Neither Harry nor Braid could understand a word of what he said, but his grimaces and gesticulations were so expressive that they could have no doubt that he was performing some kind of religious ceremony.

It was evident that the party intended to pitch their camp in the ravine, for several men under the command of one of the non-commissioned officers set about collecting wood with which to make a fire.

The boys knew not what course to take. Their first inclination was to take to their heels, seeking refuge in the forest. Then they remembered that if they did this there would be small chance of their being found by Cortes, who had promised to return to the ravine. As silently as possible they crawled on hands and knees to the hollow tree, and hid themselves in the trunk.

There they remained for hour after hour. From that position they were just able to see into the gorge. The party had split up into three groups: the German officers sat alone; the European noncommissioned officers formed a ring around a smaller fire; whereas the natives were congregated around the fetish-man.

Peter Klein sat like a figure of stone, a sentry with bayonet fixed standing over him. His lips were bloodless, his eyes staring, his face like that of a ghost. From time to time the Germans looked at him and laughed. For all that, they repeatedly offered him food; but he refused to eat, though now his hands had been unbound.

After a while many of the men disposed themselves for sleep, lying down upon the bare rocks about the embers of the fire. The officer in command--a stout major with a bristling moustache--gave orders that the prisoner's hands should again be bound. Whereupon a sergeant propped the prisoner up, with his back to the side of the ravine, making it perfectly plain--even to the boys who could not understand the German language--that, if he endeavoured to escape, they would not hesitate to kill him.

The sentry was not posted for the night on the side of the ravine on which were the two boys, but on the other side, overlooking the valley to the east. It was apparently from this direction that the Germans seemed to fear for their safety.

Harry thought the matter out. If the two brothers were alive, he could not think why they had not returned. It was now past one o'clock, and Cortes had said he would be back certainly before twelve.

The night pa.s.sed in the bush in solemn tranquillity, save for the droning of myriads of insects from the mangrove swamp and the gurgling sound of the river. Hour by hour the moon mounted in the skies above the hill-tops, which were capped by mist. The two boys were squashed together in the tree-trunk. Braid, it seemed, had gone to sleep in a standing position. He was breathing heavily.

Stealthily Harry left his hiding-place and dropped down upon hands and knees. Cautiously he crept to the edge of the ravine and looked over.

To the boy's surprise, he observed that not only the Germans and the native soldiers, but also the sentry, were sound asleep. They lay in huddled att.i.tudes around the dying fires.

With his back against the rock was Peter Klein. As Harry watched him the man moved and heaved a sigh. Presently he groaned.

Harry Urquhart was one who was quick to think. This man, Klein, was a spy, one fit to be despised, and moreover a German, an enemy of his country. And yet, for some reason or other, Klein was a prisoner in the hands of his own countrymen. Von Hardenberg, perhaps, was not so far away. These were questions that could possibly be answered by Peter Klein himself, who might be disposed to speak in grat.i.tude for his deliverance.

There was only one way in which the prisoner could be rescued. It was not possible for Harry to descend the sides of the ravine, neither was it possible for Klein, even had his hands and legs not been bound, to climb up the cliffs.

As stealthily as before, Urquhart crawled back into the wood, until he came to a place where there was a long, rope-like creeper--one of those vegetable parasites which are so common in the forests of the tropics.

To cut this near the roots and tear it from the tree to which it clung so tenaciously was the work of not many minutes, and Harry was in possession of what to all intents and purposes was a very useful rope.

With this he repaired in haste to the edge of the ravine, where he tied the end of it to the trunk of a tree. That done, hand over hand he let himself down to the bottom.

Stepping over the forms of the sleeping soldiers he approached the captive, and with his jack-knife cut the bonds that bound Klein's feet and hands.

"Now," he whispered in the man's ear, "climb, and you are safe!"