Chatterbox, 1906 Part 46

Britt ran home that evening full of excitement and satisfaction. His cap was thrown carelessly on one side as the lad rushed into the sitting-room, and he looked disappointed at finding a maid preparing the supper-table as the only occupant.

'Where's Mother? Hasn't she come home yet, Mary?' he asked.

'Yes, Master Rupert, your mother got back this afternoon, but she was no sooner in than Miss Aleyn sent for her to go in there, and she hasn't come back yet. She sent a note for you, though; it's on the mantel-shelf, there.'

Britt took the envelope. 'It's jolly rough on a fellow to have his mother taken away when he hasn't seen her for a week,' he grumbled, as he opened it.

'My dear boy,' the letter ran, 'I am so sorry not to be with you this evening. Unfortunately Miss Aleyn has got one of her particularly fidgety nervous attacks, and I don't like to leave her. She found a cross chalked on the gate-post this afternoon, and imagines it is a burglar's mark! She won't listen to reason, and absolutely refuses to come home with me, so the house is now being barricaded in preparation for the attack Miss Aleyn confidently expects.'

Rupert read the letter through twice before its meaning dawned on him.

Miss Aleyn, an elderly and very eccentric maiden lady, was their near neighbour, and a friend of his mother's. Her hobby was curio-collecting, and she lived in perpetual dread of having her treasures stolen. In fact, judging by the energy and ingenuity she displayed in hunting for them, one might well imagine the old lady was desirous of making a collection of burglars, although so far no success had attended her efforts. She was an ardent admirer of Sherlock Holmes; to her, as to the famous detective, every unfamiliar sign or unusual incident meant a clue to some crime or burglary. Remembering this trait of Miss Aleyn's, Britt suddenly realised how full of meaning must have appeared the hasty scrawl he had left on Miss Aleyn s gate-post for the hounds' guidance that afternoon. He startled the maid-servant by a peal of laughter that echoed through the small house.

'I'll be back directly,' he exclaimed abruptly, as soon as he could speak, seizing his cap, and rushing from the house. The prospect of explaining matters for Miss Aleyn's benefit was no pleasant one. The old lady had a small opinion of boys, and never hesitated to speak her mind, as Britt had already been made aware, but he was anxious to have his mother home once more and eager to tell her of the afternoon's pleasure.

Arriving at the picturesque detached cottage which was his destination, Britt noticed that the place appeared totally deserted. His vigorous hammering at both front and kitchen doors was without effect, and Britt began to wonder whether Mrs. Leslie had persuaded terror-stricken Miss Aleyn to accompany her home. As a final resource he lifted the flap of the letterbox and stooped down to it, meaning to shout through; but he met with an unwelcome surprise. He was greeted by a jet of water from a well-directed squirt aimed through the opening. He gave himself a disgusted shake, and ruefully tried to stop the trickling down his neck with a handkerchief; then cautiously advancing once more, and placing his lips to the keyhole, he shouted: 'It's me, Mother!--let me in!'

The sentence, brief and ungrammatical, served its purpose. Mrs. Leslie's voice could be heard inside: 'It's only Rupert, Miss Aleyn. May he come in for a moment?'

Indistinct murmurs answered the question, and Britt added a further appeal: 'I've got something important to tell Miss Aleyn.'

This was more to the point, and Rupert, with secret amus.e.m.e.nt and enjoyment, heard sounds as of heavy furniture being removed and bolts and bars drawn back. A small s.p.a.ce was made in the doorway and the boy slipped through. For a moment he paused, bewildered. In the hall was such a collection of furniture that there was but a few clear yards'

s.p.a.ce. A sideboard, several chairs, a music-stool, and two fenders had evidently been piled up to barricade the door. A frightened maid held the garden squirt, a pail of water by her side, and in the background stood Miss Aleyn, poker in hand, with a grim expression that boded ill for any intruder. Mrs. Leslie regarded her son with some alarm.

Fervently wishing himself in any region away from this one, Britt blurted out abruptly the reason of his errand. It took Miss Aleyn some time to understand his meaning, but when she did, Britt bitterly regretted his wonderful invention. The old lady's tongue was caustic, and her language eloquent, and this occasion was not one to be lost. For a truly bad quarter of an hour she instilled into poor Britt a sense of his folly and faults, and finally demanded his services in replacing the disordered furniture.

For reasons best known to himself, this unexpected development of his scheme was never revealed by Britt to the other boys. He did not encourage a repet.i.tion of the game, nor show any pleasure in its success. As a rule, when new ideas are sought after by Dr.

Simpson-Martyn's pupils, Britt now follows Brer Rabbit's excellent example: he lies low and says nothing.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "He was greeted by a jet of water."]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "His shoulder caught me as he pa.s.sed."]

ROUND THE CAMP-FIRE.

IV.--A FIGHT WITH A RHINOCEROS.

(_Concluded from page 131._)

The tragedy (continued Vandeleur) took place _after_ the rhinoceros adventure, but shall be told before it.

After a fortnight Umkopo was quite himself again, and began to go about with me on my hunting expeditions into the veldt. At the end of a month something happened which suddenly ended our relations for the time being. One day, as I sat at dinner, I heard shoutings outside the camp, and the sounds of quarrelling among the native attendants. Presently a man was brought into the zareeba, apparently unconscious; four men carried him, and a fifth--Umkopo--followed the procession, looking dark and forbidding; evidently in the worst of humours.

The wounded man was Billy, and the other four Kaffirs brought his unconscious form and laid him close to me, every man speaking at the same time, endeavouring to explain what had happened.

It seemed that Billy had somehow offended Umkopo, who had straightway fallen upon him with his k.n.o.b-kerri.

I dismissed the Kaffirs, bidding them attend to Billy, and beckoned Umkopo up to me. He and I had learned to understand one another wonderfully well during the month of our acquaintance. I showed him that I was gravely displeased with him, and this evidently was more than he could bear. Doubtless his uncivilised, untutored mind could not understand why I should be vexed because he had avenged an insult. At any rate poor Umkopo was sadly distressed. He left me looking miserable.

He would eat no dinner. Presently, after moping in a corner of the zareeba for a quarter of an hour or so, he went out into the veldt. I watched him walk off into the jungle.

Well, he never returned, and when I next saw him it was at an important moment, which shall be the text of my next yarn. Meanwhile, let me begin and finish my rhinoceros adventure, in which--some three weeks after his arrival--Umkopo played a very notable and important part.

We had begun to despair of that 'rhino.' We had hunted in every direction within a radius of fifteen miles or more of the camp, and though we had once or twice come across his spoor in wet places--which proved that he still haunted the neighbourhood--we could never hit upon the beast. Either he was very shy, or we were very unfortunate.

But one day we three were out after antelope, for the larder required replenishing. The Kaffir Billy carried my second rifle and a large bag of cartridges. Umkopo, who had proved himself a splendid hunter, and who could follow the track of a herd of antelope like a jackal, had taken upon himself the leadership of the party. He walked in front, I was at his shoulder, and Billy walked behind.

Suddenly, while crossing a patch of thin jungle, Umkopo stopped and half-turning towards me, placed his finger on his lip. 'What is it?' I whispered; 'have you sighted the herd?' Umkopo pointed to a sandy spot at his feet. I could discern a track of sorts, but the footmark of the animal was much blurred in the soft sand; I could see that it was not antelope-spoor, and that was all. Umkopo made a mysterious sign over his forehead. For a moment I wondered what in the world he meant; then it occurred to me that he wished to represent a horn.

'Rhinoceros?' I whispered, using the Kaffir word.

Umkopo gravely nodded his head, and moved forward upon the track. For a few yards he followed it, but the jungle here was very dry and difficult for tracking; he soon lost the spoor.

'We must separate,' said I; 'I will go to the right, Umkopo to the left.' Umkopo nodded, and we separated, Billy following me.

Scarcely had we started, one to right, the other to left, when with bewildering suddenness a huge creature charged straight at me from out of a dense clump of brushwood, so suddenly and unexpectedly that my heart seemed to leap into my mouth, and for a moment I felt unable to move from the spot to which I seemed rooted. This was not the case with the Kaffir Billy, who instantly vanished (taking, of course, my spare rifle with him) 'into thin air.'

I recovered my presence of mind just in time to leap aside at the critical instant; that is, I avoided the huge lowered head armed with its great, business-like horn.

But though I avoided instant destruction by moving out of the direct line of his headlong rush, his shoulder caught me as he pa.s.sed and sent me head over heels, stiff and bruised and knocked half senseless.

The rifle flew from my hands, and for the moment I could not see it. I crept, however, with wonderful swiftness behind a small scrub-bush, and lay an instant with half-closed eyes, trying to recover my full senses, but sufficiently conscious to be aware that I must make no sound if I valued my life.

The rhinoceros had charged on meanwhile, his impetus carrying him thirty yards beyond the spot where he brushed against me in pa.s.sing. I could see that he had now turned and stood listening and watching, his two wicked little eyes moving this way and that.

Would he see me?

I could now make out the barrel of my rifle lying in a patch of thin gra.s.s. The sun had caught the polished steel and caused it to glint brightly. As for me, I dared not breathe, much less move out of my cover in order to secure my weapon.

So matters remained for a full minute; the rhino standing listening, the rifle lying inaccessible to me, though but five yards away; Umkopo invisible, doubtless hiding somewhere like myself; the Kaffir, as usual in moments of danger, goodness only knew where, and my spare rifle with him.

Suddenly, to my horror, I saw Umkopo deliberately step out from behind a p.r.i.c.kly pear, in full view of the rhino, which, of course, instantly charged him.

Umkopo vanished, and our friend the rhino galloped at steam-engine pace right through the bush, behind which he seemed to disappear. This, I felt, was intended by Umkopo as an opportunity for me to recover my rifle, and I stepped quickly out from my hiding-place and leaped towards it; I seized it, and looked round.

By all that was horrible, the great beast had heard me, and with marvellous rapidity had wheeled and was already almost upon me! Well, I have never done anything so quickly in all my life as at that moment. I simply flung myself, in a kind of flying leap, back into my thorn-bush, cleared it, and lay down on the other side.

In a quarter of a second the rhino had pa.s.sed like a flash of substantial lightning through the bush and beyond, galloping almost over me as I lay, and almost kicking me with his hind leg. I twisted myself round to the other side of the bush while his impetus carried him forward, and by the time I was able to peer out at him, he was already twenty-five yards away, and facing once more in my direction.

I pointed my rifle very carefully, and was about to pull trigger, when the rascal saw me, and instantly he was again in motion. I fired, but without proper aim, and though my bullet struck him in the chest it did not stop him.

He was now scarcely fifteen yards from me, and I almost gave myself up for lost. I was about to pull trigger a second time, when suddenly there darted between me and the charging brute a human form--Umkopo.

The rhino swerved from his course to follow him, and just missed him as he turned, Umkopo dodging like a hare; and, turning again, the beast was in a moment in full pursuit.

Umkopo swerved and dodged, but the rhino, bulky, ponderous, awkward-looking beast as he was, followed his movements with great rapidity, gaining upon him, instead of losing ground at each swerve and turn.