The Fire-Gods Part 19

When Max looked up into the face of the Portuguese the man was smiling, so that his white teeth showed in the blackness of his beard.

"You see," said he, "I did not come here on a wild-goose chase after all. I first came to this river five years ago, and discovered the rubies of Makanda. I promptly engaged the services of de Costa, who had worked in the mines of Santa Fe in Mexico. This treasure-chest contains the result of the labour of two years."

"And why have you employed slaves?" asked Max. "Why did you not set to work like an honest man?"

"For a simple reason," answered Caesar; "I desired the maximum of profit.

No one knows of my discovery. I intend no one to know. Paid labour is not only expensive, but workmen would come and go at their pleasure, and word of this would reach the Coast. That is precisely what I desire to prevent. There would be talk of rights and royalties, and probably international complications. At present it is not known that rubies can be found in Africa. I cannot speak too highly of these gems. One of these stones, weighing five carats, is worth at least twelve times as much as a diamond of equal weight. I am prepared to receive your congratulations."

It was some time before Max Harden spoke.

"Why is it," he asked, "that you tell me the secret you have kept for years?"

Caesar smiled again.

"Because," said he, "I number you among my slaves."

It was then that Max heard the jangling of a chain without the hut. The Arab had returned.

Max was led forth into the moonlight. The storm was past, the water lay inches deep upon the ground. There, shivering from fear, were five slaves--men who had been born and bred in the Pambala village on the mountain slope--fastened one to the other like so many dogs upon a leash. At the end of the chain was an empty collar, which one of the Arabs opened with a key. It closed with a snap around Max Harden's neck, and from that moment, according to the law of the slave trade, his soul was not his own. The Arab cracked the whip he held in his hand, and like a team of dumb, patient animals, the gang filed from the stockade.

It wanted but an hour to daylight, but the misery of that hour stands alone in the life of the young Englishman as the most terrible experience that ever came his way. He found himself and his five bond-companions confined in a narrow hut in which there was scarcely air to breathe. They had to sleep upon straw mats spread upon the floor.

The long chain bound them one to another, so that if one man moved in his sleep he disturbed the others.

There was no sleep for Max. Even had he desired to sleep he would not have been able to do so. The place swarmed with mosquitoes, and, after the rain, great pools of water lay upon the floor. For all that, the majority of the natives lay down and slept like dogs, tired out by the day's work, and weary at heart at the implacable injustice of the world.

At daybreak the slaves were summoned to their toil. Gang after gang--and there were six in all--filed out of the kraal, in charge of the Arab drivers, and crossed the river by way of the suspension bridge.

At the quarry Max gained a more intimate knowledge of the workings of a ruby mine than he had ever hoped to attain. He himself was set to work, washing the dirt from the sifted rubies by the river bank.

The slaves remained at the workings from sunrise to sunset, during which time they received two meals. Their food consisted of manioc and plantains. They were given no meat. The gang which was employed in washing, to which Max was attached, worked in chains.

These poor driven creatures took no interest in their task. They set about their business mechanically, with never a smile upon their faces, and though they were allowed to talk to one another, scarcely a word was uttered. Whenever they found a ruby they expressed no satisfaction, though it were worth a thousand times the price of their freedom. They just handed it to Caesar, who examined the quality of each stone under a magnifying-gla.s.s.

That day there were two more cases of cholera; two more of these unfortunate creatures were freed of their bonds to throw themselves down upon the river bank to die.

Caesar was utterly without pity. If a man fell ill he cursed him, and as often as not, resorted to the whip. Max Harden felt that these things sickened him. He had never dreamed that such barbarity could exist in an age of enlightenment and toleration.

That night he slept--the sleep of those who are utterly exhausted. He was over-burdened by the sights which he had seen. The unhappy lot of these poor sufferers was like a mountain weight upon his heart. It was a three-day nightmare, in which Caesar stood for all that was terrible and pitiless. None the less Max did not despair. His courage was maintained by hope. He knew that as long as Crouch and Edward were in the land of the living they would not rest until the slaves had been avenged.

Caesar knew now that Crouch had escaped from the jungle, and Max had been saved as by a miracle from the rapids. But he had asked no questions.

He had gone back to his work at the quarry as if nothing unusual had occurred. Perhaps he desired to fill his treasure-chest without delay, and take his rubies to Europe. Perhaps he recognized already that the game was up.

At daybreak Max was awakened by the Arab who had charge of his gang, and once more he was marched out to the workings. That afternoon a strange thing occurred: de Costa appeared at the quarry.

The Portuguese seemed genuinely glad to see the young Englishman. He even grasped him by the hand.

It was now that Max saw how invaluable the half-caste was to Caesar. The man was a ruby expert. His business was to examine the gems, one by one, and select those of the greatest value. His place was at the river where the washing was in progress, whereas Caesar himself superintended the blasting of the rock.

De Costa drew near to Max.

"You saved my life," said he; "I have to thank you."

The Arab slave-driver was out of earshot, and even had he been able to overhear them he could not have understood since they talked in English.

"If you wish to show your grat.i.tude," said Max, "you can help me when the time comes."

De Costa remained silent for a while, his weak, almost colourless eyes staring at the water of the river.

"Yes," said he, "you saved my life. None the less I will die if I am not taken to the sea. The fresh air, the sea breezes--these are better than rubies, are they not?"

He was silent for some minutes, whilst Max continued with his work.

"There's a ruby," said Max, selecting a small blood-red stone from the handful of gravel he was washing.

De Costa looked at it and then threw it into a bag which lay at his side.

"Yes," said he, "it is worth about five hundred pounds. But I was about to ask you if you remember the night when you saved me from the whip?"

"I remember quite well," said Max.

"Do you know why he thrashed me? I was about to tell Crouch of the rubies and the slaves, and Caesar guessed it, and used the whip. Then you came in, and Gyp flew at you. I am grateful for what you did."

De Costa sat cross-legged on the ground, with his eyes fixed upon the river. The slaves saw nothing as they worked; long since their senses had been numbed. Caesar was engrossed in his business at the quarry; the Arabs, with their loaded rifles in their hands, never moved their eyes from the slaves. Max was the only one who looked about him.

His eyes were fixed upon the granite hills across the river, to the east of the gorge. The sky-line was rugged, by reason of the great boulders that lay upon the crest. Two of these were close together, and from that position they bore a striking resemblance to two faces in profile--that of an old man and a woman. As Max looked, the resemblance became more lifelike. And then something dark pa.s.sed from behind one boulder to the next. It had been visible for no longer than an instant, but in that instant Max recognized M'Wane.

He thought the matter out. If M'Wane was there, Crouch and Edward were not far behind. He knew that they would see him through their gla.s.ses.

He continued with his work. It was above all necessary that Caesar's suspicions should not be aroused.

In life things sometimes so happen that it is evident our fate is not always in the hands of ourselves. There is a Divine Providence that watches over us and is Master of the human will. Max had no sooner decided to remain as servile and obedient as the most broken-hearted negro in Makanda, when he was called upon to act.

The man next him, who early in the morning had complained of feeling ill, now lay down upon the ground and uttered a groan. The Arab approached and told him to get up. The poor fellow was not able to do so, and though he tried his best he fell back again, saying that he suffered the most violent pains.

At that, Caesar drew near, whip in hand, and demanded to know what was the matter. When he saw that here was another case of cholera, he flew into a pa.s.sion. He had no pity for the man. He merely regretted the incident as a disaster, inasmuch as he had lost another workman. He ordered the Arab to unlock the iron collar around the slave's neck, and then he raised his whip.

The long lash swung high into the air, and then came down upon the bare back of the dying man. Two strokes fell, and the whip had been raised for a third, when Max Harden flew like a wild beast at Caesar's throat.

So sudden was the onslaught that the Portuguese was taken by surprise.

Though Max was enc.u.mbered by the heavy chain which hung from his neck, he had room enough in which to move. His fellow-bondsmen, unable to believe the evidence of their eyes, ceased their work and stood together in a crowd, their eyes dilated and their limbs trembling in fear.

Max paid no heed to them. He was like a mad dog on a leash that rushes forth from its kennel and lays hold upon its victim. He took no heed of the consequences. He neither thought what he was doing, nor asked himself whether it were wise. He was just driven mad by the sight of such inhuman cruelty.

He flung Caesar to the ground, and before the man could rise, the whip had been wrested from his hand. Max placed a foot upon his chest, and the lash of the whip rose and fell, cracked, made circles in the air and fell again, until Caesar shrieked for mercy.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE LASH OF THE WHIP ROSE AND FELL, UNTIL CaeSAR SHRIEKED FOR MERCY."]

Never, since the Dark Continent had been traversed by Tippu Tib, and the villages of the Upper Congo had been given over to plunder, had the slave-driver's whip been wielded with such remorseless energy. Caesar groaned and writhed upon the ground, and struggled blindly to rise. The thong cut his cheek and hands, and the cruel knots which he himself had tied tore the coat from his back, till his cries became fainter, and at last he lay quite still. And at that, Max cast the whip in his teeth.