Harry Milvaine Part 36

He was not sorry when the moonlight shone down on them once more through the branches of a baobab tree. Here they stopped to breathe.

On again, and now the way began to ascend, still in the forest, and still comparatively in the gloom.

Up and up and up they went. It was quite a mountain for this district.

At last the trees and then the bushes deserted them; then they were on the bluff, and Harry turned round to look.

Why, away down yonder--close under them it appeared--they could see the blazing camp-fire of Mahmoud's caravan.

"Are we not too near, Nanungamanoo?"

"No. They will not stir till daylight Arabs are not brave at night.

When they do start they will go towards the sun. We will wait and watch and see."

And so it fell out, for no sooner had the clouds begun to turn bright yellow and crimson than the stir commenced in the camp.

Somalis ran hither and thither, it is true.

The babel of voices was terrible.

Mahmoud himself was here, there, and everywhere, and the whacks he freely dealt his soldiers with a bamboo cane were audible even to our friends on the hill-top. But when all was said and done, the caravan started back towards the coast, and in a few minutes there was silence all over the beautiful landscape.

Book 3--CHAPTER FOUR.

IN AFRICAN WILDS--ADVENTURE WITH A LION.

A little way down the hill, and looking towards the north, was a cave in the rocks, and a cool delightful corner our friends found it, soon as the sun "got some weigh" on him, and his beams no longer slanted over the plain.

While Raggy was eating his modest breakfast Harry went some distance apart, and, taking out a little Book--it was a gift from his mother--he read a portion where a leaf was turned down.

Seems funny that a boy should carry a Bible with him, does it not?

Well, reader, I can tell you this much: I have known many and many a sailor boy do so, and I never found that they were a bit the worse for it.

Mind you this, I have no patience with superst.i.tion, and I do hate cant; nor do I for a moment mean to say that our Book acts as a kind of amulet: but putting the matter in a plain, practical, common sense kind of a way, you and I have both immortal souls, you know, and we want to be guided how to save them. Well, the Book tells us the way. But that is not all. In times of danger--and a sailor comes across these pretty often--a blink into the Bible often gives a fellow heartening. You open it probably at the very pa.s.sage that does so, and, even if you do not, you know where to find such pa.s.sage.

And this _does_ do good. Oh! I have proved it over and over again. I have a little old Book there that I have carried about the world for years and years. It has many a dog's-ear, but they are intentional, for each one marks a pa.s.sage, and to every dog's-ear a story is attached.

All point to little crumbs of comfort I have had in scenes of danger or even pestilence--here and there in many lands. Some day, if spared, I mean to write the story of this particular old Book of mine, and I do not think it will be devoid of interest to those who may care to peruse it.

But there! I am digressing, and I humbly beg my readers pardon; it was all owing to Harry's getting away, in behind that bit of tangled scrub, in order to perform his morning devotions. Well, the truth is he did feel very, very grateful to be free.

But stay, will he be able to retain that freedom? And this brings me back to my tale.

He went back to the place where he had left Raggy enjoying the leg of a fowl.

The boy was sitting near the mouth of the cave.

"Enjoyed it, Raggy?"

"Ah!" and Raggy smacked his lips and rolled his eyes, "he am plenty much sweet, ma.s.sa."

"There's a wing there too, Raggy. There you are, have that."

"Tank you, ma.s.sa. You am bery good, ma.s.sa."

I dare say Raggy would have eaten a whole fowl had it been offered to him. After all African fowls are not very big, nor very fat; but very matter-of-fact and self-possessed--that is their moral character.

I have gone into an African village in the evening, just as the fowls were all going to roost in the trees, my object being to buy half a dozen for the pot. As soon as the natives were convinced that the white man had not come to eat a baby, but that he really wanted to buy "tuck-tuck-chow-chow," and had copper money in his hand to pay for the dainty, then all hands would turn out, and such a hunt you never saw, and such fluttering of wings and skraiching. I have felt sorry for the fowls.

When I got what I wanted, the rest of the "tuck-tucks" would go quietly to roost again as if nothing had happened. I envy such equanimity.

I remember that two fowls got loose in the boat once. It was blowing stiff, and the white spray was dashing over us. Well, any other birds would have jumped overboard. Not so these African fowls. They simply got on the gun'ale, and, as soon as the squall was over, coolly commenced to arrange their feathers. This regard for personal appearance in a scene of such danger--for they must have known they were going to pot--is something that one does not know whether most to admire or wonder at.

Having fully satisfied the needs of nature, Raggy was prepared to give some little account of his adventures. Briefly they were as follows, and in Raggy's own language.

"You see, ma.s.sa, befoh de sun rise on dat drefful night on de sh.o.r.e, de Somali Indians, all plenty well-armed, plenty big knife, plenty spear and gun, dey come and wake all our poor blue-jackets. 'Come quiet,' dey say; 'suppose you make bobbery, den we kill you quick.' Dey tak us all away behind de sandhills, and I tink first and fohmost dey am goin' to obfuscate us."

"Suffocate us you mean, Raggy."

"All de same meaning, ma.s.sa. But dey tie our arms till de blood tingle all down de fingers, and dey tie us roun' de neck till we all feel chickey-chokey, and our eyes want to bust and relieve demselves. Den away we all go. I look back, and see dat poor ma.s.sa not follow, and my heart am bery sad. Ober de hills and de plains we walk. Poor white man's feet soon get tire and blister all, and in two tree day dey walk all de same's one chicken on de stove-top. Dey Somalis and de big Arab--he one bad, _bad_ man--dey talk. Dey not tink I understand what dey say. Dey speak ob where dey am going to de country ob King Kara-Kara, to sell all de men for slabes and get a tousand n.i.g.g.e.rs foh 'em. Den dey speak ob you. You, dey say, am wo'th de lot Raggy heah all, and listen, and tink, and I want to set you free. One day one man he fall sick--one ohdinary seaman, ma.s.sa, name is Davis--he fall bery, bery sick. Den de Arab soldier look at him and look at him. You nebah get well, he say. Den he take him by de two leg and pull him along de gra.s.s to a bush; and oh! it was drefful, ma.s.sa, to heah poor Davis crying for mussy 'cause he hab a wife and piccaninnies at home, he tole 'em. No mussy in dat Arab's eye. No mussy in his heart, he take de ugly spear and stab--stab--stab--Poor Davis jes say 'Oh!' once or twice, den he die. Plenty oder men sick after dis, but dey not lie down. Dey jes walk on weary, weary. Byemby we come to wells. Den de men get better. But Raggy hab eno' ob dis. He steal away at night. How de lion roah in de jungle, and how de tiger [the leopard is frequently so called in Africa] jump about, and de wild hyaenas come out in de moonlight and laugh at poor Raggy. Raggy's heart bery full ob feah.

But he no say much. Suppose dey only laugh, dat not hurt much. Suppose dey bite, den Raggy die. I walk and walk foh days. I not hab much food. But I catch de mole and de mouse, I eatee he plenty quick. Den byemby I come to Mahmoud's trail, and I follow on and up till one day I see de caravan on de hill, den I lie and sleep till night Ma.s.sa knows all de rest."

"Yes, Raggy, I know all the rest, and very grateful I am for your pluck, and all that, and if ever we get back again, I'll report your good and brave conduct, and you'll be well rewarded. Perhaps they'll make you a captain, Raggy."

"Ma.s.sa is joking."

"You go home now at once?" the boy asked, after a pause.

"Oh! no, Raggy. That would not be doing my duty. I'm going inland, and I'm going to try to find and redeem, or rescue our poor fellows. It would not be plucky nor brave to go back without them--at all events without trying to find them. Now, Raggy, as we are sure, if spared, to be some considerable time together, I wish you to do me the favour to teach Nanungamanoo to speak English."

"De yeller n.i.g.g.e.r wi' de long name, ma.s.sa?"

"That is he, Raggy--Nanungamanoo."

"Oh! lah! ma.s.sa, I teachee he plenty propah, and suppose he no speak good, I give him five, six, ten stick all same as de schoolmastah ob de _Bunting_ switchee me."

"You better not try," said Harry, laughing, "or you may find yourself in the wrong box. But here," he cried aloud, "Nanungamanoo, where are you?"

Next moment Nanungamanoo stood silently before him awaiting his commands.

"You've got too long a name, Nanungamanoo."

"Yes, sahib."

"Well, we'll shorten it. We'll call you Jack. It's free and easy."

Jack expressed his pleasure to have an English name, so Jack he became.

"On all 'occasions of ceremony or state,' as the Navy List says, Jack, we will resort to your original designation, and you will be Nanungamanoo again."