Harley Greenoak's Charge Part 16

In front of the officers' mess hut in the A. Troop camp, a group of four sat chatting.

"Pity we can't find out something more definite, Greenoak," Inspector Chambers was saying. "I believe I'd be justified in arresting Vunisa on my own responsibility."

Harley Greenoak laughed drily.

"Don't you do it, Chambers. You'd stoke up the whole country then and there. Even if you didn't--what price the Government? Too much zeal isn't encouraged in the Police any more than in other departments, I take it."

The Inspector and his sub. laughed ironically.

"Not much," said the latter. "And these devils are war-dancing every night right bang under our noses. It's genuine too, for I've seen it before, as you know."

"By Jove! I would like to see a real war-dance," struck in d.i.c.k Selmes.

"I say, Inspector, couldn't some of us go over some night and have a look in? Why not to-night?"

"Tired of life yet, Selmes?" answered Chambers, good-naturedly.

"Because if a few of us went to have a look in at it none of us would come back--in their present state of mind. If a lot--why, there'd be no war-dance."

"Bother!" said d.i.c.k.

The conversation rolled on; then came dusk--then dinner. Life in the open makes men drowsy. It was not long before the camp of A. Troop--bar the sentries--was fast asleep.

The night was moonless, but the blue black of the unclouded sky was beautiful with its myriad golden stars, shining as they only can shine in Southern skies. The loom of the hills was perceptibly defined, notably in one direction, where a faint glow brought into relief the V-shaped scarp of converging slopes, const.i.tuting, as it were, a portal to the country lying beyond. Hence sounds were borne, distant but indescribably weird. But the Police were accustomed to such by this time. There was war-dancing going on in the Gudhluka Reserve.

We said that the camp was fast asleep. d.i.c.k Selmes const.i.tuted an exception. Lying on his blanket outside one of the huts--he preferred to sleep in the open for the sake of freshness--he was planning out an extraordinarily mad scheme. Why should he not steal out, make his way over to Vunisa's location, and witness the fun? It would be a chance he might never get again. As for the risk, old Chambers was probably exaggerating. Even if he were discovered, they wouldn't hurt one man all alone. He would just give them tobacco and tell them to go on with the programme; and, acting on this idea, he rose quietly and stole out of the camp.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

Hang it! He had forgotten the confounded sentry.

"Oh, it's all right, old man," he answered genially. "It's only me, and I'm taking a walk. Here, fill your pipe, I'll be back soon," putting a coin into the man's hand.

Trooper Carter was not one of the best men in the Force, and F.A.M.

Police pay was none too liberal in those days. The weight of a sovereign felt good.

"All right, sir. Don't be too long, though."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

THE TICKING OF A WATCH.

d.i.c.k's spirits rose immeasurably as he found himself clear away, with night and the open veldt around him. He was in the pink of hard training, consequently not long did it take to cover the six or seven miles that lay between the Police camp and Vunisa's location.

The Tsolo River rippled silvery across his way, reflecting the stars.

Cautiously he forded it, the water scarcely above his ankles, but his heart in his mouth lest he should make any undue splash or cause a rattle of stones. But the din in front had now become so near and deafening that it would have drowned such fifty times over.

He was through the defile now, which was not so narrow as it looked. In front a great red glow as of numerous fires, and all his pulses were a-tingle with excitement and antic.i.p.ation at the thunder of stamping feet, the roar of the rhythmical chant. But--how get near enough to see without being seen?

He glanced around, then upward. The steep slopes were not very thickly bushed, but, by advancing carefully and taking advantage of every bit of cover, he might manage to get well above the scene of the rout. Slowly, tediously, he crawled, for the most part on his hands and knees. The firelight, throwing out a dull glow, reached the hill-slopes--what if the white of his face should show up to the keen-eyed savages? And then, as he reached a point whence the whole scene lay revealed before him, d.i.c.k Selmes felt that the risk he had undertaken was amply repaid.

Beneath, in an immense open s.p.a.ce, several huge fires were burning-- their light showing up cl.u.s.ters of round, conical-roofed huts studded all along the valley. But the broad level was covered with human beings, if so weird and satanic-looking a crew could be defined as human. There must have been considerably over a thousand of them, decided the spectator, allowing for those who were taking part in the performance alone; for, on the outside of the actual arena, squatted several rows of women, who formed a not ineffective sort of accompaniment, by a rhythmical clapping of hands, to the war-chant of the warriors. The latter were arrayed in trappings of the most fantastic nature, tufts of cow-hair flowing from leg and arm; monkey-skins, with here and there that of the leopard; wild-cat tails too, and bunches of crane feathers sticking up from their heads. All seemed bristling with a.s.segais, but there were no shields.

As d.i.c.k Selmes took in all this the chant suddenly ceased, and the entire ma.s.s stood in motionless silence. Then one man came forward and harangued them. He was of tall, commanding figure, and the spectator wondered if this was Vunisa, the redoubtable chief, himself. Not long, however, did he talk, but more and more did his speech work up to what seemed to the listener the highest pitch of fierce frenzy. Every head was bent forward, eagerly drinking in every word; and the deep-toned murmurs of a.s.sent which greeted some of his periods reminded d.i.c.k of those which hailed the successful shooting of the Police artillery, the first time he had seen any large number of savages together.

There was a sudden tightening of the ranks. The orator had ceased. Now arose the rhythmical strophes of the war-song, low at first and fierce, then rising till it reached a perfect roar, terror-striking in the degree of ferocity unchained which it expressed, while the stamp of feet, in perfect unison, shook the ground as it were with the rumble of an earthquake. Then the whole mighty ma.s.s moved forward in line, and the light of gushing flames gleamed redly on a.s.segai blades as the foremost warriors went through the pantomime of striking down an imaginary foe. Up and down the great open s.p.a.ce this was repeated several times, the rear ranks manoeuvring so as to change places with the first and get their turn, in a way that was scarcely perceptible.

But--what was this?

For now, behind the surging ma.s.s of fantastically arrayed warriors, came a file of women. Each was armed with a tough k.n.o.b-kerrie, and beat on the ground with a vicious whack now and then during the advance. They were finishing off the wounded after a battle.

For upwards of an hour d.i.c.k Selmes lay, witnessing this weird but striking and dramatic scene, in a state of mind little short of entrancement. There was a fascination about it that made him long to rush down the hill and shout and stamp with the rest. No wonder they wanted a strong Police camp in the neighbourhood, he thought, if this sort of thing was going on all over Kafirland; and it struck him uneasily what a mouthful their own particular camp might prove if these and a few more were to hurl themselves upon it while in that state of frenzy. The thought of the camp suggested that it might be high time to think of getting back there.

"Well, I've seen something to-night, and no mistake," he said to himself. "My hat! but I'll have the grin over Greenoak and old Chambers to-morrow."

The flame of the fires blazed up higher than ever. As he turned to carry out his intention, he found his way barred, and that by a line of ochre-smeared, brawny savages. He marked the cruel sneer on each broad, dark face, the gleam of uplifted blades, and then realised his utter helplessness. For, fearing to wake Harley Greenoak, who would certainly have prevented his mad trip, he had refrained from going into the hut to fetch his revolver. Now he was totally unarmed.

With quick e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns the Kafirs hurried forward, some in crouching att.i.tude, like cats advancing on their prey, others erect, but all with eyes fixed warily upon him, for they expected him to draw a pistol.

Then they scattered, spreading out so that some should steal above and behind him.

In that moment d.i.c.k Selmes knew what it was to feel that his last hour had come. He had no knowledge of the language, so could not try the effect of parley. So, by way of signifying that he was not there with hostile intent, he extended both hands--open.

The effect was magical. Realising for the first time that he was unarmed, the savages flung themselves upon him. Powerful and in good training as he was, what could he do against numbers? At the same time, a blanket was flung over his head and face, blinding and effectually stifling him in its nauseous folds, and he was borne to the earth and effectually pinioned by many and muscular hands.

Inspector Chambers was an officer of prompt.i.tude and decision, and on Harley Greenoak waking him up in the grey of dawn with the news that d.i.c.k Selmes was nowhere in the camp, the sentries of the night before were at once called to account, and the truth came out. The young gentleman was not one of themselves, explained the defaulter, who supposed, therefore, that he was not under the same orders. Ordering the man to be put under arrest, the Inspector gave his directions, and in a surprisingly short s.p.a.ce of time nearly the whole troop was mounted and heading at a trot for Vunisa's location.

"That's where we'll find him," p.r.o.nounced Greenoak, adding grimly, "if we find him at all. He'll have gone to look at that war-dance, sure as eggs. I ought to have known he'd be trying it and kept my eye on him."

Pummelled, pushed, hustled, his hands and arms secured with innumerable knots of raw-hide; half suffocated, wholly nauseated by the greasy effluvium of the filthy blanket which still enveloped his head and shoulders, d.i.c.k Selmes was hurried down the hill by his captors. To his attempts at speech with them, in the hope that even one among them might understand English, the only reply was a savage growl in their own tongue, accompanied by a dig in the back with the b.u.t.t end of a kerrie.

Still, he did his best to keep his faculties of hearing undimmed, and, listening with all his might, it seemed as though the roar of the war-dance, instead of drawing nearer, became less marked. Whither were they taking him? All sorts of frontier stories of the old wars which he had heard came back to his mind: of the unsparing barbarities practised by these savages on any unfortunate white man who should fall into their hands; of soldiers, straggling from a column, cut off in the thick bush and slowly roasted to death with red-hot stones, or spread naked over a nest of black ants; of settlers, surprised by the suddenness of the outbreak, driven back to perish in the flaming ruins of their own homesteads. And now he himself was in the power of these very fiends!

They were dragging him back to put him to some such end, to delight the whole location with the spectacle of his lingering torments. Shuddering with horror at the thought, the unfortunate fellow hardly noticed whither he was being hurried. Then he was suddenly and roughly flung to the ground, his legs tightly tied together at the ankles, by which he was now seized, and unceremoniously dragged through what he guessed to be the door of a hut.

Once within, a light was struck; the homely match of civilisation flaring feebly, but just enough to render more fiend-like still the fell, savage faces and forms decked with their wild war-trappings. This the prisoner was able to make out for a moment, for the blanket which covered his head and shoulders was removed. But only for a moment, for an effectual gag was forced into his mouth, and then the suffocating, nauseous covering was replaced. After a minute or two of muttered conversation, his captors withdrew.

And now for the unfortunate d.i.c.k Selmes followed a night of indescribable horror. To the certainty of being dragged forth at dawn to a death of unimaginable agony was added the torments of the present-- the cramping pain of his bonds, the nauseous suffocation of the gag, and the bites of innumerable small pests of no account whatever to the savage, but calculated to drive a highly civilised and utterly helpless white man to the verge of insanity. Rescue! Of that there was no hope.

The Police troop might hold its own on the defensive, but, after what he had seen last night, he could not believe it would stand a chance against these fierce warriors fighting on their own ground; besides, he himself would be murdered the first thing. And then he remembered how he of his own act had effectually cut off all trace as to his whereabouts. Even Harley Greenoak would fail to fathom the mystery of his disappearance--until too late. Again and again he bitterly cursed his own rashness.

Then, as the remaining hours of the night wore on, merciful Nature came to the relief of the sufferer, in that he sank into a state somewhat between sleep and unconsciousness, which at length took shape in a dream. The Police troop had come to his rescue. He could hear voices-- those of the Inspector Chambers and Harley Greenoak, mingling with the deeper tones of his savage gaolers. He tried to call out, but could utter no sound. They were withdrawing; still he was perforce dumb.

They had gone away. Ah, the agony of it! He strained at his bonds-- nearly suffocated himself with the horrible gag. All of no avail.

Very different looked Vunisa's location--now silent in slumber--as the Police rode up, to the weird and stirring scene it had presented throughout the best part of the night, but the yelping and barking of innumerable curs soon brought forth some of its denizens. These stood, open-mouthed with astonishment at the sight of the carbines and revolvers of the Police troopers.

"The chief," said Harley Greenoak, decisively, "Vunisa, the chief. We have a 'word' to him."