Samba Part 44

Presently the scout from down stream came running up with the news that the leading canoes of the flotilla were approaching a bend in the river half a mile below the eyot. The paddlers, who had apparently had a meal and a rest, were sending the canoes along at a good rate. Jack bade twelve of his men grasp the rope of creepers, and stand ready to pull when he gave the word. There was dead silence among the troops.

They heard the enemy drawing near--the songs of the paddlers, the chatter of the fighting men, occasionally a yell as the chicotte fell with stinging force upon a paddler's back. Jack watched from his coign of vantage in the bush. There were the two war canoes as Makoko had described them; in the second of them was a white officer. They pa.s.sed the eyot. Then came the store canoes, one after another, keeping about the same distance apart. Jack forgot to count them, for he was beyond measure delighted to see in one of them the shield of the machine gun.

"What luck! What tremendous luck!" he thought. "Where the shield is the gun is sure to be." The last of the store canoes pa.s.sed. Then, at a little longer interval than separated the store canoes, came the first war canoe of the rearguard, the second about a boat's length behind. Jack signed to his twelve men to be ready. Watching carefully the point at which the rope entered the water and the point on the opposite side where it reached the eyot, he waited for the first of the war canoes to approach the line. The nose of the vessel was within two or three yards of the rope when he gave his men the signal.

With desperate energy the twelve st.u.r.dy negroes hauled on the rope.

Jack could not have timed the movement more fortunately. As the rope became taut and rose to the surface it struck the bottom of the canoe about a fourth of its length from the bow. The united pull of the twelve men lifted the forepart of the vessel bodily from the water; the stern dipped under, and in a moment the canoe filled and its occupants were struggling in the water.

At any other time such a feat would have provoked yells of triumph from the performers. It was a tribute to Jack's discipline that his men made no other sound than a grunt of satisfaction, which must be entirely smothered by the shouts of the men in the water. And at a word from Jack they rushed at full speed down stream with the rope, holding it a few inches above the gunwale level of the last canoe, the crew of which were frantically back-paddling to escape the mysterious fate of the other. But the paddlers had not got into their swing when the rope, stretched tight between the fastening on the eyot and the running men, overtook them. It caught them about the knees; they were swept from the thwarts, and fell towards the opposite bank; and the sudden weight on the starboard side turned the canoe completely over.

Not half a minute from the time when Jack gave the first sign the whole of the rearguard was out of action. In mortal dread of crocodiles the men swam desperately for the banks, some on one side, some on the other; but as they landed they fell an easy prey to Jack's men, and were promptly hauled into the forest and tied up.

But while they were still in the water the news of the disaster had been communicated with marvellous rapidity from canoe to canoe, and reached the head of the flotilla and the white officer. Standing up and lifting his field gla.s.s to his eyes he could just see, over the intervening vessels, a capsized canoe, a number of men swimming in the river, and others moving on the bank. There was no sign of the cause of the disaster. The paddlers indeed were shouting "Lokolobolo!

Lokolobolo!" in accents of terror; but the name appeared to convey nothing to the lieutenant, who was disposed to attribute the upset to a hippopotamus or a snag.

Certainly it was causing a great deal of confusion in the flotilla, and some of the paddlers, the rearguard being removed, seemed inclined to turn their canoes and head down stream. It was very annoying.

Shouting to the men in the leading war canoe to paddle just enough to keep their vessel stationary against the stream, the lieutenant hurried to the scene of the accident. On the way the shouts of the paddlers became more coherent; what was this they were saying? Ilombekabasi?

Absurd! But it was as well to prepare for anything that might occur, so the officer ordered his men to be ready to fire when he gave the word. At present he saw n.o.body to fire at.

His canoe was going rapidly on the current towards the eyot when a volley flashed from the undergrowth on the right bank, and he heard the shots strike the side of his vessel. The effect of the discharge at a range of only thirty yards was instantaneous. Jack had ordered his men to aim at or near the waterline; not a man had been hit; but the paddlers waited for no more. With one accord they sprang overboard and swam for the nearest sh.o.r.e, that of the eyot. One or two of the soldiers replied to the volley, aiming hap-hazard at the bank; the rest awaited the order of their officer, who, however, was either dazed by the unexpected attack or unwilling to waste ammunition by aimless firing into the bush. The boat meanwhile was drifting down the stream: a second volley bored another score of tiny holes in the thin side.

The occupants were without paddlers or paddles; they had no means of beaching the vessel; and Jack, watching her progress, felt that it was only a question of minutes before, riddled like a sieve, she would have shipped enough water to sink her. Then the occupants, officer and men, would share the fate of their comrades. He sent Makoko with twenty rifles and twice as many spearmen to the nearest point where the hapless party might be expected to land; and at the same time he despatched a band of the same size up river to deal with the war canoe, which had by this time gone out of sight.

In a few minutes the lieutenant and his men struggled one after another up the bank. Those who retained their weapons were unable to use them, for they were dripping wet. Jack's men dealt with them as with the others, leaving the white officer, however, unbound. Him they led to Jack, who commiserated the crestfallen man on his unfortunate plight, and promised him excellent treatment if he made no attempt to escape.

For some time Jack's party had made no further effort to conceal themselves. The store canoes had been moving aimlessly about the river, the paddlers not knowing whether to go ahead or to retreat. At Jack's bidding Lepoko now ordered them to beach their vessels, promising that Lokolobolo would protect them, and, if they pleased, would take them into his service. They obeyed with alacrity, and soon the whole of the stores and the machine gun were in Jack's possession.

He wondered why the latter had not been taken up the river with the main body, and questioning the officer, learnt that in the haste and confusion one of the parts of the gun could not be found, and but for the delay in searching for it he himself would have arrived an hour or more earlier.

The capture of the convoy had been effected so quickly that Jack felt there might still be time by a forced march to reach the fort before the arrival of the enemy's main column. Hastily selecting from the stores such food and other articles as he urgently needed, and taking care to bring with him the machine gun, he made instant preparations to return. He placed Makoko in charge of the flotilla, with a body of thirty riflemen and eighty spearmen, ordering him to drop down the river half a day's paddling and await further instructions. He arranged for a chain of messengers to keep up communication between Makoko and himself; then he set out with the bulk of his force for Ilombekabasi, sending a scout to order the men who had gone up river to join him across country as soon as they had captured the only remaining canoe.

[1] Now I am well.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

Summons and Surrender

Two days after, on a strip of open ground half-way between Ilombekabasi and Elbel's ruined camp, a group of six negroes were a.s.sembled. Three of them were in the uniform of the State troops; the other three were Lepoko, Imbono, and Mboyo. All were unarmed. In the midst of the group were two rough chairs such as were used by native chiefs. The southern wall of Ilombekabasi was thronged with men, women, and children eagerly surveying the scene; lower down the hill the State troops, in a rude encampment hastily constructed on the previous day, were drawn up in orderly ranks, and gazed north with equal intentness.

All at once a great cry of "Lokolobolo!" rent the air, and floated down the hill from the fort to the camp. No answering shout met it. But an officer in white left the camp and walked slowly up the slope. At the same time a tall figure in tattered garments of European cut limped out of the fort, and moved downwards. The group of negroes fell apart as the white men arrived. The latter touched their helmets in military salute; and the younger of the two smilingly motioned to the elder to seat himself on one of the chairs, he himself taking the other. They sat facing each other, and the negroes moved a few paces back on each side.

The two men formed a strange contrast: the one, a tall slim young fellow not yet nineteen, his bronzed face clean shaved, showing firm well-cut lips and an obstinate kind of chin; his nose prominent, his brown eyes large and searching, his hair black as night and somewhat unruly; not a handsome face, but a strong one, worth looking at twice and not easily forgotten: the other nearly as tall, but much broader and more stiffly built; some ten years older; lips and chin concealed by thick brown moustache and beard, blue irritable eyes blinking through big spectacles under fierce and s.h.a.ggy brows.

"Instead of replying to your summons to surrender, Monsieur Jennaert,"

said Jack slowly in his best French, "I thought it better to meet you, so that we might clearly understand each other. I am obliged to you for so readily agreeing to my proposal."

The Belgian bowed.

"Yours, monsieur, is the third or fourth summons of the same kind.

Monsieur Elbel summoned us----"

"Where is Monsieur Elbel, monsieur?"

"Monsieur Elbel, monsieur, is dead." Lieutenant Jennaert started.

"Dead, monsieur?"

"Yes, he was pursued into the forest by a man whose son he had thrashed, whose relatives his men had maimed and butchered, whose village he had burned. The man killed him. Well, as I was about to say, Monsieur Elbel summoned us more than once. At first he was much stronger than we were, both in arms and men. But when he began to back his summons by force of arms he failed,--more than once. As you know, four days ago we captured his camp for the second time and dispersed his troops, largely with the aid of rifles which had once been his."

"Yes, I know that," said Lieutenant Jennaert somewhat impatiently.

"But Monsieur Elbel was not a trained soldier, and his men were only forest guards. I did not come to hear of your exploits, monsieur, but to receive your surrender. I am a soldier; my men are State troops; the case is different."

"Quite so, monsieur. I appreciate the difference between his men and yours. But you will pardon my pointing out that you are in a far more critical position than Monsieur Elbel before his camp was stormed."

"You think so, monsieur?" said the officer with an amused smile.

"Would it be indiscreet to ask your reasons?"

"Not at all. I wish to be entirely frank. It is to the interest of us both."

"a.s.suredly, monsieur."

Lieutenant Jennaert's smile was now quite indulgent. He was at first inclined to be peremptory with this young man, who appeared to presume on the victories he had obtained over a Company's official, and a captain taken at a disadvantage, and never particularly competent, in his subordinate's opinion. But the young fellow was certainly very polite; why not humour him by letting him talk? So Jennaert smiled again. The other continued--

"Well, monsieur, what is the position? Take mine first. You see before you a fortified camp, difficult of approach, as Monsieur Elbel could have told you, and as you can judge for yourself; well provisioned, and with a good water supply; garrisoned by four hundred or more well-armed men--all now provided with Albinis or Mausers, and a machine gun."

The officer started.

"A machine gun?"

"Yes--a machine gun."

"Monsieur Elbel made no mention of a machine gun."

"No, it is a new acquisition. But if you would like to a.s.sure yourself on the point I can convince you."

The officer hesitated. Jack turned to Lepoko.

"Run up and tell Mr. Barney to show the big gun on the blockhouse."

Lepoko ran away.

"It is very hot, monsieur," said Jack pleasantly. "The rains, I am told by my friends the chiefs here, are long overdue. I am afraid you would have found your journey rather more difficult if it had been a little later, with the river in flood.--Ah! there it is!"

A number of men had hoisted the gun on to the edge of the parapet, in full view of the group below.

"You see, monsieur, we are well provided. A machine gun, you will admit, is even more useful within walls than without. Now as to your position. You have under your command some three hundred men trained--more or less. Whether as a military force they are better than our men can only be decided if unfortunately you determine to put the matter to the test. But consider your risks. Two days ago we captured your stores."--The officer jumped.--"Your rearguard is in our hands, and that was your machine gun."--The officer stared.--"You are at least three weeks from your base, with perhaps two days' provisions in hand, no reserve of ammunition, and, as I said, the rains overdue.

Yonder country, during the rains, is a swamp."

Lieutenant Jennaert turned pale. His messengers sent back to hurry on the dilatory convoy had strangely failed to return. But recovering himself, with a feeble attempt to smile he said--