Prester John Part 8

I gave them five minutes to get to the outhouse and settle to business. Then I opened the trap, got into the cellar, and crawled to the other end. A ray of light was coming through the partially raised door. By a blessed chance some old bricks had been left behind, and of these I made a footstool, which enabled me to get my back level with the door and look out. My laager of barrels was intact, but through a gap I had left I could see the two men sitting on the two cases I had provided for them. A lantern was set between them, and Henriques was drinking out of a metal flask.

He took something-I could not see what-out of his pocket, and held it before his companion.

'Spoils of war,' he said. 'I let Sikitola's men draw first blood. They needed it to screw up their courage. Now they are as wild as Umbooni's.

Laputa asked a question.

'It was the Dutchmen, who were out on the Koodoo Flats with their cattle. Man, it's no good being squeamish. Do you think you can talk over these surly back-veld fools? If we had not done it, the best of their horses would now be over the Berg to give warning. Besides, I tell you, Sikitola's men wanted blooding. I did for the old swine, Coetzee, with my own hands. Once he set his dogs on me, and I don't forget an injury.'

Laputa must have disapproved, for Henriques' voice grew high.

'Run the show the way you please,' he cried; 'but don't blame me if you make a hash of it. G.o.d, man, do you think you are going to work a revolution on skim milk? If I had my will, I would go in and stick a knife in the drunken hog next door.'

'He is safe enough,' Laputa replied. 'I gave him the chance of life, and he laughed at me. He won't get far on his road home.'

This was pleasant hearing for me, but I scarcely thought of myself. I was consumed with a pa.s.sion of fury against the murdering yellow devil. With Laputa I was not angry; he was an open enemy, playing a fair game. But my fingers itched to get at the Portugoose-that double-dyed traitor to his race. As I thought of my kindly old friends, lying butchered with their kinsfolk out in the bush, hot tears of rage came to my eyes. Perfect love casteth out fear, the Bible says; but, to speak it reverently, so does perfect hate. Not for safety and a king's ransom would I have drawn back from the game. I prayed for one thing only, that G.o.d in His mercy would give me the chance of settling with Henriques.

I fancy I missed some of the conversation, being occupied with my own pa.s.sion. At any rate, when I next listened the two were deep in plans. Maps were spread beside them, and Laputa's delicate forefinger was tracing a route. I strained my ears, but could catch only a few names. Apparently they were to keep in the plains till they had crossed the Klein Labongo and the Letaba. I thought I caught the name of the ford of the latter; it sounded like Dupree's Drift. After that the talk became plainer, for Laputa was explaining in his clear voice. The force would leave the bush, ascend the Berg by the glen of the Groot Letaba, and the first halt would be called at a place called Inanda's Kraal, where a promontory of the high-veld juts out behind the peaks called the Wolkberg or Cloud Mountains. All this was very much to the point, and the names sunk into my memory like a die into wax.

'Meanwhile,' said Laputa, 'there is the gathering at Ntabakaikonjwa.[1] It will take us three hours' hard riding to get there.'

Where on earth was Ntabakaikonjwa? It must be the native name for the Rooirand, for after all Laputa was not likely to use the Dutch word for his own sacred place.

'Nothing has been forgotten. The men are ma.s.sed below the cliffs, and the chiefs and the great indunas will enter the Place of the Snake. The door will be guarded, and only the pa.s.sword will get a man through. That word is "Immanuel," which means, "G.o.d with us."'

'Well, when we get there, what happens?' Henriques asked with a laugh. 'What kind of magic will you spring on us?'

There was a strong contrast between the flippant tone of the Portugoose and the grave voice which answered him.

'The Keeper of the Snake will open the holy place, and bring forth the Isetembiso sami.[2] As the leader of my people, I will a.s.sume the collar of Umkulunkulu in the name of our G.o.d and the spirits of the great dead.'

'But you don't propose to lead the march in a necklace of rubies,' said Henriques, with a sudden eagerness in his voice.

Again Laputa spoke gravely, and, as it were, abstractedly. I heard the voice of one whose mind was fixed on a far horizon.

'When I am acclaimed king, I restore the Snake to its Keeper, and swear never to clasp it on my neck till I have led my people to victory.'

'I see,' said Henriques. 'What about the purification you mentioned?'

I had missed this before and listened earnestly.

'The vows we take in the holy place bind us till we are purged of them at Inanda's Kraal. Till then no blood must be shed and no flesh eaten. It was the fashion of our forefathers.'

'Well, I think you've taken on a pretty risky job,' Henriques said. 'You propose to travel a hundred miles, binding yourself not to strike a blow. It is simply putting yourself at the mercy of any police patrol.'

'There will be no patrol,' Laputa replied. 'Our march will be as secret and as swift as death. I have made my preparations.'

'But suppose you met with opposition,' the Portugoose persisted, 'would the rule hold?'

'If any try to stop us, we shall tie them hand and foot, and carry them with us. Their fate will be worse than if they had been slain in battle.'

'I see,' said Henriques, whistling through his teeth. 'Well, before we start this vow business, I think I'll go back and settle that storekeeper.'

Laputa shook his head. 'Will you be serious and hear me? We have no time to knife harmless fools. Before we start for Ntabakaikonjwa I must have from you the figures of the arming in the south. That is the one thing which remains to be settled.'

I am certain these figures would have been most interesting, but I never heard them. My feet were getting cramped with standing on the bricks, and I inadvertently moved them. The bricks came down with a rattle, and unfortunately in slipping I clutched at the trap. This was too much for my frail prop, and the door slammed down with a great noise.

Here was a nice business for the eavesdropper! I scurried along the pa.s.sage as stealthily as I could and clambered back into the store, while I heard the sound of Laputa and Henriques ferreting among the barrels. I managed to throttle Colin and prevent him barking, but I could not get the confounded trap to close behind me. Something had jammed in it, and it remained half a foot open.

I heard the two approaching the door, and I did the best thing that occurred to me. I pulled Colin over the trap, rolled on the top of him, and began to snore heavily as if in a drunken slumber.

The key was turned, and the gleam of a lantern was thrown on the wall. It flew up and down as its bearer cast the light into the corners.

'By G.o.d, he's gone,' I heard Henriques say. 'The swine was listening, and he has bolted now.'

'He won't bolt far,' Laputa said. 'He is here. He is snoring behind the counter.'

These were anxious moments for me. I had a firm grip on Colin's throat, but now and then a growl escaped, which was fortunately blended with my snores. I felt that a lantern was flashed on me, and that the two men were peering down at the heap on the half-opened trap. I think that was the worst minute I ever spent, for, as I have said, my courage was not so bad in action, but in a pa.s.sive game it oozed out of my fingers.

'He is safe enough,' Laputa said, after what seemed to me an eternity. 'The noise was only the rats among the barrels.' I thanked my Maker that they had not noticed the other trap-door. 'All the same I think I'll make him safer,' said Henriques.

Laputa seemed to have caught him by the arm.

'Come back and get to business,' he said. 'I've told you I'll have no more murder. You will do as I tell you, Mr Henriques.'

I did not catch the answer, but the two went out and locked the door. I patted the outraged Colin, and got to my feet with an aching side where the confounded lid of the trap had been pressing. There was no time to lose for the two in the outhouse would soon be setting out, and I must be before them.

With no better light than a ray of the moon through the window, I wrote a message on a leaf from my pocket-book. I told of the plans I had overheard, and especially I mentioned Dupree's Drift on the Letaba. I added that I was going to the Rooirand to find the secret of the cave, and in one final sentence implored Arcoll to do justice on the Portugoose. That was all, for I had no time for more. I carefully tied the paper with a string below the collar of the dog.

Then very quietly I went into the bedroom next door-the side of the store farthest from the outhouse. The place was flooded with moonlight, and the window stood open, as I had left it in the afternoon. As softly as I could I swung Colin over the sill and clambered after him. In my haste I left my coat behind me with my pistol in the pocket.

Now came a check. My horse was stabled in the shed, and that was close to the outhouse. The sound of leading him out would most certainly bring Laputa and Henriques to the door. In that moment I all but changed my plans. I thought of slipping back to the outhouse and trying to shoot the two men as they came forth. But I reflected that, before I could get them both, one or other would probably shoot me. Besides, I had a queer sort of compunction about killing Laputa. I understood now why Arcoll had stayed his hand from murder, and I was beginning to be of his opinion on our arch-enemy.

Then I remembered the horses tied up in the bush. One of them I could get with perfect safety. I ran round the end of the store and into the thicket, keeping on soft gra.s.s to dull my tread. There, tied up to a merula tree, were two of the finest beasts I had seen in Africa. I selected the better, an Africander stallion of the blaauw-schimmel, or blue-roan type, which is famous for speed and endurance. Slipping his bridle from the branch, I led him a little way into the bush in the direction of the Rooirand.

Then I spoke to Colin. 'Home with you,' I said. 'Home, old man, as if you were running down a tsessebe.'[3]

The dog seemed puzzled. 'Home,' I said again, pointing west in the direction of the Berg. 'Home, you brute.'

And then he understood. He gave one low whine, and cast a reproachful eye on me and the blue roan. Then he turned, and with his head down set off with great lopes on the track of the road I had ridden in the morning.

A second later and I was in the saddle, riding h.e.l.l-for-leather for the north.

[1] Literally, 'The Hill which is not to be pointed at'.

[2] Literally, 'Very sacred thing'.