Settlers and Scouts Part 26

It was a dark night, but the sky was clear and the air cold. To make a direct course was impossible. Bill knew the way in the daytime, but at night he was completely at a loss. John, however, was aware of the general direction, and by keeping within touch of the river, as he could easily do by his sense of hearing, he knew that he could not go very far wrong, though the journey would necessarily be longer than if he had been able to avoid the windings. Fortunately in this hilly country the ground was much less obstructed by tangles of thorn than it was in the less elevated districts to the south, and the safari was not hindered by the annoying necessity of having to cut a way through pathless jungle.

Nevertheless, the march was not devoid of trials and discomforts. The ground was very irregular, and at one point, where the bank of the river rose to a considerable height above the water-level, they found that they had come to a stretch of hard gravel interspersed with large fragments of a whitish rock, making progress very slow and difficult.

Looking back, John saw the glow of the fires left burning in the fort--a little patch of red amid deep black. When they descended to gra.s.sy land again he stumbled over an obstruction about three feet high, which Bill told him was an ant-hill. A little further on he heard a strange whistling that seemed to come from a line of trees on his left hand.

Hearing the men behind gulping, he halted, and got them to exchange loads, listening meanwhile to the weird and mournful sound, which now increased in volume, now died away in a doleful wail. He asked Bill if he recognized the sound as that of an animal, but he replied that he had never heard it before. After a few moments John observed that the sound rose and fell with the gusts of wind, and concluded that it was caused by the breeze sweeping through the trees. He rea.s.sured the men; but it was not till long afterwards he discovered the origin of the sound. The trees were a species of thorn about eight feet high, with leafless branches on which hung a number of hollow seed-pods. In these an insect bores a hole, and the wind, pa.s.sing through the innumerable tiny apertures, produces the musical notes which so much disturbed the negroes.

After about two hours, John felt much fatigued. The continued exertion had revived the dull aching pain in his back and limbs, and he thought it prudent to rest awhile. The progress had been so good that he could afford to waste an hour: there would still be time to reach the village before the dawn. The whole party lay down on a gra.s.sy knoll, speaking only in whispers. Occasionally the cry of some night-bird broke the stillness, and once there came, from far away, the sharp bark of a hyena. At the end of an hour the safari was again on foot. Twice more John found himself compelled to halt, and after the second time Ferrier persuaded him to let four of the men carry him, in a litter which they quickly made by slinging one of the blankets between two rifles. Always taking the river as guide, they pressed on again. At last, when the sounds of re-awakening life in the trees proclaimed that dawn was at hand, they came to the foot of a long gra.s.sy acclivity which John felt sure led up to the village. After a consultation with Ferrier, he decided to wait a little until there was light enough to show them the way clearly. The air was misty, but the blackness of night was pa.s.sing, and at length they were able to see the goal of their long march--the "bad men's" village, lying in perfect stillness on the hill-top.

John led the men among some trees, and waited until he saw the gate opened, and a number of women come out and wend their way into the plantations to the left. When they were out of sight, he ordered the men to leave their loads and follow him closely without a sound. Then, regardless of his pain, he led the way at a steady run up the hill.

Ferrier came to his side.

"We do this together, old boy," he said.

On they went. They had almost reached the stockade when a woman in the fields to the left saw them, and uttered a loud shriek. John quickened his pace; the men, unable to restrain themselves any longer, raised their voices in a tremendous shout. A few seconds later the whole party, the white men still leading, dashed through the gate, and along the single street, causing a wild stampede among the children playing there, and the women who were moving about. The uproar drew several men from their huts, where they were no doubt indulging themselves in a final nap while their womenkind prepared breakfast. Almost all were old men. At the sight of the invading horde they yelled and fled. John hurried on towards the compound where he had seen the war-party a.s.semble. As the scared negroes left the street vacant, he was struck with amazement at the sight that met his eyes. At the entrance of a hut at one side of the central s.p.a.ce stood a figure in white. He had risen from bending over a cooking-pot. Next moment Said Mohammed came towards his master, walking leisurely, his face beaming with smiles.

"Good morning, sir," he said blithely. "You have come in nick of time.

Banana fritters, new dish to savage with untutored mind, are done to a turn. On point of tickling unappreciative palates, they now serve n.o.bler end, delectating connoisseur who knows what's what. With respect, sir, I'm jolly glad to see you."

Thus the village of the "bad men" was carried without a blow.

John sent Coja back with a few men to bring in the loads and secure the gate. Then he lost no time in hunting through the village, and learnt, as he had hoped, that there were very few men left in it; and these for the most part old and negligible as a fighting force. He had given strict orders to his party not to injure any one wantonly. The women, seeing that there was no burning or slaughtering, recovered from their first fright. They recognized the prisoner in whom they had been so much interested, and their curiosity overcoming every other feeling, they drew slowly nearer to the strangers, uttering little shrieks of excitement. John made them understand that the men were hungry, and they ran with alacrity into their huts, not at all averse from preparing a meal for such inoffensive visitors. Meanwhile Said Mohammed had instantly seized his own cooking-pot and other utensils from the men who carried them, and set to work to cook more banana fritters and other dainties to which the white men had been strangers for many a day.

Before long the whole party were seated, enjoying a capital breakfast, the men laughing and chattering like light-hearted children. In the midst of the repast they broke into song, one of them chanting a line of solo, the rest chiming in with a boisterous chorus.

(Solo) Where did the white men go in the night?

(Chorus) They went to the place of the bad men.

(Solo) Why did they go to the place of the bad men?

(Chorus) To get very much food For themselves and the good men.

The white men must eat, The black men must eat, In the place of the bad men is very much food, O, eat all the food of the bad men.

John smiled rather wistfully as he translated the song to Ferrier.

"Poor devils!" he said. "They don't think of what they may have to go through before they get home. Just like children.... We thought we'd never see you again, khansaman. What became of you?"

"Sir, I will round unvarnished tale deliver. Crossing stream, a thousand horse-leeches take fancy to my nether extremities, and cling like grim death. I make saltatory gyrations to shunt obnoxious hangers-on, when lo! enter crocodile, without introduction, his room better than his company. I was in blue funk, sir, and scooted, with celerity and splash. In agitation of moment I forgot my pals, and when I look round, behold! they are no more. I call: no answer; I call again: silence that can be felt. You could hear a pin drop. In the charming words of the handsome but afflicted Lord Byron--

'What next befell me then and there I know not well--I never knew:'

but when I came to myself, to quote from same sublime poem--

'I had not strength to stir, nor strive, But felt that I was still alive,'

for, below, leeches suck my vital fluid; above, black men have me in grip as firm as metropolitan bobby. They propel me, sir, with indignity to reverse of the medal, to this identical spot.

'First came the loss of light, and air, And then of darkness too:'

in other words, I, Said Mohammed, failed B.A. of Calcutta University, am consigned to ignominious horizontal extension on floor of beastly hovel.

I suffer in silence,

'Nor call the G.o.ds with vulgar spite To vindicate my hapless right.'

--Allow me to offer you another fritter, sir."

"Thanks. What next? Fire away!"

"After horrid night, sir, over which I draw veil of decency, I am transported into light of day. Hail, smiling morn! I purchase freedom by generous offer to teach fair s.e.x a thing or two. Casting pearls before swine, sir; pains thrown away. But I earn my salt, and the rest is blank page, clean slate, until I hear the tramp of armed men, and behold, the grand finale!"

"I am glad things have ended so well," said John. "And I must say, khansaman, it was very handsome and plucky of you to undertake a search for me."

The Bengali bowed deprecatingly; then he said--

"But alas! sir, the web of our life is mingled yarn, both good and evil together, as says sweet swan of Avon. There is fly in ointment; gilt is off ginger-bread. Coja, very good chap, has left sublunary sphere. 'He will awake no more, oh, never more!' to quote the words of Percy Bysshe Sh.e.l.ley, also failed B.A. We ne'er shall look upon his like again. Who would not weep for---- By gum! This knocks me silly all of a heap!

There he is!"

"Yes," said John, laughing, "and you can exchange notes while I take a look round."

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-THIRD--The Ivory

John reckoned that his escape from the fort would probably have been discovered about the same time as he was entering the village. The enemy would almost certainly suppose that his flight had been southward, towards the farm. Several hours might be wasted in pursuing in that direction; even if they hit upon his trail at once, it would be four or five hours before they could reach him. His course, then, must be to take advantage of this respite to prepare the safari for the struggle that could scarcely be avoided when they came to close quarters.

Issuing from the village with Ferrier, he made his way to the cultivated fields, which, lying on the sheltered slopes of the hill, were more fertile than might have been expected at such a height above sea-level.

Much of the harvesting had been done: he had already noticed that the shambas were filled to overflowing with muhindi and pumpkins. But the banana-trees were weighed down with huge cl.u.s.ters of ripening fruit, and acres of the soil were covered with beans and sweet potatoes. He could provision the safari for the whole of the homeward journey, and yet make a scarcely sensible inroad upon the resources of the people. He had no scruples in taking as much as he needed, or rather as much as the men could carry; by all the rules of war it would be letting the village off lightly. Accordingly he lost no time in setting the men to get as much of the native produce together as would furnish full loads for the men who were not already burdened. This would inevitably diminish their marching power; but on the other hand they must carry plenty of food with them if they meant to reach home.

While the men were engaged in this task, an idea occurred to Ferrier.

"I say, John, why not go down the river on rafts?" he said. "We should get along much faster, and be less likely to meet Juma, who is sure to know a short cut, and won't stick to the river as we did."

"A jolly good notion! Wait a bit, though. What about the rapids? They nearly did for me, and loaded rafts would stand a worse chance than I did, wouldn't they?"

"That's where I come in, old chap. I've shot the rapids on the St.

Lawrence; these rapids aren't a patch on the Roches Fendues. I didn't do it by myself, of course; an old fellow named Baptiste Le Sueur managed the pole; but I saw it all, and I bet I could navigate those little affairs by the fort."

"I'll be hanged if we don't try it, then. We can make a better job of it than Bill and I did. By the way, where is the old fellow? I haven't seen him since we came into the village."

"Nor have I. He won't be far off. Let us set about it at once. Two large rafts, I think: it'll take some time to cut enough timber."

"We needn't wait for that. We'll dismantle some of the huts. The natives can easily build new ones when we are gone, and I'd like to give them a little trouble after all they have given us."

"Capital! Come on then. The sooner we get them done the better."

Returning to the village, they set all the men to work who were not engaged in the fields. In a short time a large number of poles from the huts lay on the ground ready to be lashed together, and a quant.i.ty of bast being found, there was no lack of material for the lashings. Those of the men who had been porters and were expert in manipulating ropes were entrusted with this work, the two white men superintending them and making sure that the knots were firm.

The first raft, capable of supporting half the party in addition to half the stores, had just been completed when Bill ran into the village in a state of great excitement. In such a condition he seemed to lose almost all power of expression, and it was some time before John, even with Coja's a.s.sistance, could make out what was the matter with him.

Presently, however, he gathered that Bill had gone alone to the spot, a few miles away, where the ivory had been buried by the Arabs when fleeing from the "bad men." It was situated on a wooded knoll washed by the river. Scarcely had he reached the place when his extraordinarily keen sense of hearing apprised him that a number of men were fording the river, though he was not able at first to see them, owing to the trees.

Immediately on hearing their approach, he swarmed up a tree--the same in which he had taken shelter years before--and from this coign of vantage he spied a large body of negroes gathered on the further bank. In a little while he saw, moving up the knoll, the party who had previously crossed: they were Swahilis, and their leader was the man whom he had already recognized as a member of the Arab safari. All carried spades or other implements.

And then, helpless in the tree, the old man had had the agony to see the Swahilis dig up the ivory which had lain so long concealed: his ivory, the recovery of which had been his dream for years, a dream for whose realization he had counted on the a.s.sistance of the white men. The tusks had been laid only a foot or two below the surface, so that it was no great labour to unearth them. When they were all dug up, the men began to carry them down to the river, each tusk requiring four men. The intention was, Bill supposed, to transport them to the evacuated fort.