Harry Milvaine Part 43

He felt his face burn red as he thought of his neglect. But he vowed to himself that if spared to return he would try to make amends for such thoughtlessness.

"You should sow good seed when you can," something seemed to whisper to Harry; "the ground may be rough, the soil may be hard, but _good seed often makes good soil for itself_."

Book 4--CHAPTER ONE.

ON THE WAR PATH.

ADVENTURE WITH A PYTHON--THE UNWHOLESOME FEN--THE VILLAGE OF THE DISMAL SWAMP--THE MAN-EATER.

Not only as guides and carriers, but in a variety of other ways did Harry find his new men useful. They were undoubtedly honest, they were just as undoubtedly brave, and last, but not least, they were willing.

Well, they were servants and subjects of the island king, and depend upon it a good master always makes a good servant.

It was but two men that Harry desired to have lent to him, but his majesty insisted on sending three, wisely observing that while the two could carry the packages, the other could act as guide and scout.

At the time, then, that the last "act" in this tale of ours opens, Harry had already been three months on the road.

Three months only? Why it seemed like three years, so filled had the days been with toil and adventure. No wonder that Harry felt a man when he looked back to all he had come through. He had seen many strange sights, and been among many strange tribes and peoples, and yet he could have told you truthfully that he had not as yet made an enemy. To do so needs that wonderful skill and judgment, tact and calmness of mind, which only men like Stanley and Cameron possess.

My own impression is that one is more safe among the really unsophisticated tribes of the far interior, than among those that lie more near the coast, and who have been leavened with a modic.u.m of civilisation--and mayhap a modic.u.m of rum. I would rather trust myself among savages who had never seen a white man before, than among the Somali Indians to the north of the line--whose tricks and manners, by the way, I have good cause to remember.

Harry inquired the names of his islanders, but found they were so difficult to p.r.o.nounce, unless he tried to swallow his tongue, and screwed his mouth out of all shape, that he determined to give them English ones, so he called them Walter--the scout--and Bob and Bill--the carriers. But in the mouths of these Indians Walter became "Walda," Bob became "Popa," and Bill became "Peela;" so let them stand: Walda, Popa, and Peela.

They were so much alike that it was quite a long time before Harry could tell the one from the other--tell Popa from Peela, I mean.

As for Walda, though he was quite as tall, quite as straight, and every bit as jetty black as his companions, his teeth had been filed into triangles, and stained crimson by some mysterious means or other, and as he was always on the grin there was no mistaking him.

Walda had a wondrous way of his own of making his peace with native tribes. He seemed to know the whole country well, and used to run on miles in front of the company, and by the time Harry got up it was no uncommon thing to find everything prepared and ready, and even a rude tent made for the white man's reception.

So that life became now a deal easier for our hero.

Poor Walda, though, had one day a narrow escape from a most terrible death.

It was well for him that Harry and the rest of his people were near to save him.

I cannot tell you whether or not the python or marsh boa of Central Africa is a spiteful reptile, for I have never seen but one, and he made no attempt to attack me, although I stood not twenty yards away. I cannot believe all the fearful tales I have read and been told about the creature, of its enormous length--sometimes sixty feet--of its power to swallow a small bullock, and of its chasing travellers till they heard its panting behind them, and felt its fulsome breath beating warm between their shoulders. This would surely be more fearsome than any nightmare. It puts one in mind of the words of the immortal Coleridge--

"Like one that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round, walks on, And turns no more his head; Because he knows a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread."

Walda was only a little way ahead of the rest on the day he was attacked by the python. Nor was it of very large size, else would I not have Walda's adventures to write.

The guide was near a tree when suddenly, with a loud hiss, the monster sprang upon him. It seized the unfortunate man by the naked shoulder with its fangs, and, twisting its tail round a tree, commenced to roll Walda up in its coils.

His companions dropped their burdens and rushed to his rescue.

None too soon. Yet the attack and relief both together could hardly have occupied more than twenty seconds. It was evident from the quickness with which Peela and Popa commenced untwisting the coils from the tree, that they had been actors in a scene like this before. They at the same time hacked at the tail with their knives.

Meanwhile Harry had run his sword-bayonet, which luckily was fixed to the end of the rifle, through the boa constrictor's body. Its folds were instantly released, and Walda fell forward insensible, only to be speedily dragged away by Somali Jack.

It was time for all to run now, to escape the lashings and writhings of the monster. It coiled round the tree, and uncoiled again. It lay for moments dormant, then sprang high in air.

Harry now took steady aim with his rifle and shot it through the neck, close to the head, and soon after it expired.

In journeying on and on, ever towards the west, Harry and his people had met with many a wild beast; sometimes, indeed, they were far too close to lions to feel quite at home with their position. Very few, however, fell to the guns, for the simplest of all reasons, they only fired when really obliged to.

They found themselves one day on a hill-top, overlooking a vast stretch of level country that extended towards the then setting sun as far as the eye could reach.

In some places it seemed bare and sandy, while in others there were clumps of forest trees, but for the most part it was treeless. Here and there little lakes of water glittered in the sun's parting rays, and looked like pools of blood.

It was an eerisome and ugly-looking district to cross, and Harry looked north and south in the hope of seeing hills which he might reach, and thus make a detour and avoid it. He consulted Walda on the subject.

But Walda shook his head.

"No, no," he said; "no way round. Must cross."

They entered on this dismal swamp early next morning.

It appeared like going down into a black and dreary ocean, and Harry could not help a feeling of hopelessness and melancholy stealing over him before he had walked for an hour, and the farther on he went the more gloomy and depressed in spirits did he become.

Perhaps this was the effects of breathing the tainted and unwholesome air.

"Why am I toiling and moiling here," he asked himself peevishly, again and again, "when I might be far away and happy? This is no pleasure,"

he said, half aloud; "better by far I were dead."

Then he remembered he had a duty to perform--that of endeavouring to find out and rescue his poor men.

But was he doing it? No, he was only bent on his own pleasure and enjoyment. Enjoyment indeed! He was a fool for his pains, and a great sinner besides. What were his parents doing all this weary time? The _Bunting_ must be home long ago. And he would have been given up for lost. They must have thought the dhow foundered at sea, or been lost among the breakers and every one drowned. Well, then, if he was given up for lost, the bitterness of his mother's grief must already be nearly a.s.suaged. What mattered a year or two more of wandering? He _would_ wander. He _would_ find his men or perish in the attempt. So ran his thoughts.

And thus moodily, and half angrily, did Harry muse as he marched over the dismal waste at the heels of his faithful guide Walda.

It was not easy walking here either; there were darksome murky pools to go round, and brown unwholesome streams to wade through.

Nothing could have been more depressing than the view around him, look where he would.

As far as wild beasts were concerned, the dismal swamp was untenanted.

Here were no lordly elephants, no st.u.r.dy rhinoceroses, no giraffes towering in their strength, nor deer, nor gnu, nor hartbeeste, nor the herds of swift-footed ambling zebras they had been so used to behold.

But in the great pools, and in the sluggish mud-stained streams, wallowed crocodiles more large and loathsome than Harry could have imagined even in his dreams, while often several of these at one time could be seen on the banks huddled together asleep or basking in the sunshine.

They walked onwards as fast as they could, hardly pausing to eat, but there seemed no end to the horrible fen. It seemed to Harry as if he was bound to go on, and still go on, but never come to anything.

The sun began to set at last, glaring purple through a watery-looking sky.

There was nothing for it but sleep in the swamp till another day dawned.

Harry and his men now sought the shelter of a clump of stunted trees which they reached after some difficulty.

While daylight lasted they were careful to beat the bush well before they thought of lighting the camp-fire, for close under the trees in places like this the giant anaconda or python often lies coiled up till roused to fury by the presence of man or other animals.