With Wolseley to Kumasi Part 27

"I want no one, thank you," came the answer. "I will accompany this native, and I shall hope to be back here two nights from this. 'Bout ship, Jack. We must make these beggars think that we are turning tail.

Now, I'll ask this fellow a question. Come here, my man. Will you direct me to the white chief to-night, and return here with him?"

A smile broke out on the wan face of the native, and he showed his teeth.

"I will go gladly," he said. "To the white chief my life is due, and I will repay the debt. Let there be no fear for our safety. These enemies will not expect us, and during the night we shall easily pull up to the creek. In two days, perhaps, we shall return."

All was now bustle and movement aboard the launch, for many preparations for the coming attempt had to be made. Meanwhile, seeing that he could not persuade his comrade not to make the journey, Jack Emmett went to the helm and sent the launch back to her course, down the centre of the river. And there he held her, sitting motionless and thoughtful at the tiller, while d.i.c.k and his men prepared the native boat. Two rifles and an abundant store of ammunition were placed in her, and to these were added a cooking-pot, some tinned provisions, and a keg of water. That done, and some miles having been covered since they turned towards the sea, the launch was run in toward the bank and anch.o.r.ed, while all threw themselves down beneath the awning to sleep. As evening came, they partook of a meal, and once the night had fallen, they pulled in their anchor and stood up the centre of the river again, their course guided by the faint streak which intervened between the two black lines of forest on either side. A shield of sacking surrounded the top of the funnel, while precautions were taken to hide all trace of light from the fire. In fact, the launch might have been a ghost, so silent and invisible was she.

"Stop her. Bring that boat forward, please."

It was d.i.c.k's voice, cool and collected as before.

"Now hold her while we embark. Good-bye, Jack. Good-bye, men. Keep a watch for us to-morrow night. Shove her off."

A dozen hands stretched out to grip his in the darkness, and a dozen voices, gruff and deep, and sunk to a whisper, bade him good luck and good-bye. A push then sent the boat clear of the launch, and within a few seconds she was under way, the dip of the paddles being just distinguishable. That sound soon ceased, and as the crew of the launch stared disconsolately after their leader, they could neither hear nor see a trace of the boat.

"Good luck to the lad," growled one of the sailors. "Blest if he ain't the pluckiest gentleman as ever I see."

"And if them fellers gets 'im and does for our young orfficer, I tell yer they'll 'ave ter pay, do yer 'ear?" growled another. "Strike me!

but we'll give 'em something for interferin'!"

"Silence there, for'ard. 'Bout launch! Steady there with the tiller, and hold your tongues, my lads."

This time it was Jack Emmett's voice, strangely altered. At once there was silence. But the men could think and mutter to themselves, and as they slowly steamed down the dark river that black night, each and all, from their new commander downward, registered a vow that if d.i.c.k Stapleton did not soon return, they would find the cause and probe the mystery to the bottom.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

A WELL-LAID SCHEME.

"Not a sound. Nothing to disturb us. We have been lucky."

"And the creek lies within an hour's paddling from here, chief. Soon we shall reach the white man who befriended me."

It was still quite dark, though the partial view which the curling river Prahsu allowed of the east showed that there the sky was already streaked with dull grey clouds, and that the day would not be long in coming. It was hours since the native boat had put off from the launch, and the paddles of the two occupants had dipped regularly and monotonously all the while, with an occasional spell of rest. And never once had a sound or suspicion of the proximity of the enemy alarmed them.

"We had better paddle over to the bank and be ready to take cover beneath the trees," said d.i.c.k, at last. "I remember that they overhang, and that we can run in beneath them and still paddle. Let us get close to them, and stay outside till the light is brighter."

"Or it may be that we shall be within the creek by then," came the answer. "Then there will be no danger. We have seen no sign of the enemy near the mine for some days past."

Turning the nose of the native boat towards the bank, they ran her in till she was only a few yards from the long and continuous line of overhanging boughs which clothed the side of the river. And in that position they paddled on till the growing light warned them that longer stay in the open would be dangerous. Then they plunged in beneath the boughs, and continued their pa.s.sage up the river. Presently a cry from the native attracted d.i.c.k's attention.

"The creek, chief," he called out. "We will push on."

He was strangely excited, and now that the goal was in sight plunged his paddle into the water with greater energy, and set the pace so that his white companion had difficulty in keeping time. They surged along through the shallows, dodging the boughs which dropped to the water, and ducking their heads to avoid others which came dangerously near to the boat. It was still hardly light when they shot the boat into the narrow mouth of the creek, though as they rested on their paddles and looked back, the gloom surrounding this narrow and foetid strip of water was deeper when compared with the prospect offered by the river.

"At last," said d.i.c.k. "We are here in safety, and still there is no sign of the enemy. Where is Meinheer? Shall we have trouble in finding him?"

"Perhaps a little," was the answer. "He wanders here and there in search of food, and to keep watch lest these Ashanti men should come to the neighbourhood."

"Halt!" whispered d.i.c.k, suddenly, for he thought he saw a dark object on the bank. "Look there! Is that some one watching us? There! He has moved away."

They came to a sudden stop, while each peered into the jungle. The native lifted his head to listen, while his white companion stretched out his hand for his rifle and took it across his knees.

"Perhaps a beast of the forest, chief. It was not a man, of that I feel sure. Let us press on, for we might still be seen from the main channel of the river, and see how light it is getting."

Once more they plunged their paddles into the water and sent the boat ahead, though d.i.c.k, who sat in the stern, kept his eyes on the forest.

His suspicious were aroused, and he was now keenly alert, for he felt almost sure that he had actually seen a man. Then, too, something told him that they were being watched.

"That was a call, too," he said to himself suddenly, as the note of a bird came to his ear. "Of course it may have been all right, but I don't half like it."

He eased his sword in its sheath, and felt for his revolver, which of late he had carried suspended to his shoulder and between his coat and his shirt. There it was out of the way and out of sight, while he found that he could lay hold of it instantly. In fact, it was an excellent position, for whether in a boat or ash.o.r.e, the weapon, placed where it was, did not strike against objects when he sat down or moved rapidly.

A little later the bend in this stagnant creek came into view, and there was the place where the boats had been secured when he was at the mine.

He could see the dark surface of the sluggish stream as it issued from the jungle, and though he peered amidst the trees there was not a man or beast to be seen.

"In a few minutes it will be lighter," said the native. "Then we will land and search. Perhaps the chief will stay here on the bank while I go in search of my friend."

d.i.c.k thought for a moment. Would it be wise to land, and perhaps have a dozen or more of the enemy upon him? Would it not be wiser to stay aboard and lie off in the stream? That would give him an enormous advantage in case of attack. But suppose Meinheer were near at hand, and he were seen and followed; he would require help. "You shall go ash.o.r.e first," he said to the native. "I will wait here, and when you report that all is clear near the landing stage, I will come."

For a moment it seemed as though the man hardly liked the order, for he looked at his companion doubtfully, and fidgeted. Then he thrust his paddle into the water and shot the boat close to the side.

"In a few moments," he said. "I shall quickly decide whether there are enemies about."

He leaped to the bank, giving the boat a push out into the stream, and at once disappeared in the dense jungle. For a little while the crash of twigs and dead boughs told that he was moving, but finally the sounds died down. Once our hero thought he heard the far-off cry of a bird, but he was not sure, and presently his suspicions of danger were set aside by the recurrence of the sounds of some one moving and by the sudden appearance of the native on the bank.

"All is clear," the man called out. "The forest is empty. Even the white chief is nowhere at hand. But we shall find him soon. It is safe for the chief to land."

Satisfied now that his suspicions had been groundless, and yet with the ever-present feeling that there might be, and probably was, some danger to be antic.i.p.ated, d.i.c.k drove his paddle into the water, and sent the nose of the boat into the bank. The native caught the rope and dragged at it, while his master leaped ash.o.r.e, rifle in hand. Then, together, they pulled the boat half way up on the bank, and made the painter fast to a tree. Not till then did d.i.c.k observe a figure creeping towards him through the jungle. He gave a startled cry, and lifted his rifle to his shoulder. Then a second figure came into view, and just as he was in the act of pulling his trigger a dozen natives rushed forward from different directions, while the very man whom he had rescued down the river, and who had brought the note from the Dutchman, leaped on his back, and flung his hands over his face. Then commenced a desperate struggle, for d.i.c.k realised in a flash that he was the victim of a ruse; that he had been hoodwinked and decoyed to this place. At the thought his usually placid temper broke its bounds, and in an instant he became furious with rage, while his strength, which at all times was of no mean order, became doubled. With a snarl he dropped the rifle, and ere the men charging down upon him could come to close quarters, he had gripped the wrists of the ruffian who had leaped on his back, and torn the hands from his face. Then he swung the man round, and picking him up as if he were a child, flung him with furious energy against a huge cotton tree growing just beside him.

By then the others were at hand, and the contest was continued with desperate earnestness. d.i.c.k knew that he was cornered, and across his mind the results of capture pa.s.sed vividly. In a flash he saw himself a prisoner, led to k.u.masi, there to be slaughtered. It was a terrible prospect, and the thought of it increased his desperation. His teeth closed tightly together, not a sound escaped his lips in response to the shouts of the enemy. Then his hand flew to his sword; but he had no time to draw it, for one of the enemy, a tall, lanky Ashanti, was already upon him, rushing into close quarters, and wielding an enormous stake. The weapon was already in the air when d.i.c.k saw his danger, and he had barely time to leap aside. Then his instinct caused him to make use of nature's weapons, and in a trice his right fist flew out and struck the native full on the forehead, sending him staggering back against the tree at the foot of which lay the body of the native who had acted as decoy. There was a third close at hand by now, but nothing daunted the solitary white man sprang at the stake which had dropped to the ground and seized it. Then the conflict went on with renewed energy on his part. With sweeping blows he held the enemy at bay, and as the more venturesome rushed in, the stake went up with a whirl, there was a crash, and another man fell to the ground.

It was not to be such a one-sided contest after all, and in a little while, when he had cleared the natives farther back, d.i.c.k hoped to be able to rush for the boat, launch it, and push it from the bank. Then would come the time for his revolver, and he promised himself that he would make good use of it. But he had greater trouble to contend with, for the crash of broken boughs in the forest told him that others were near at hand. Indeed, hardly had he realised the fact that the enemy were about to receive reinforcements, when a number of dusky figures appeared, while a man stepped from behind a huge cotton tree. It was the half-caste, James Langdon, saturnine in appearance, looking thin and wan after his long residence with the Ashantis, and showing on his ugly features the same crafty cunning look as had first aroused our hero's suspicion and dislike. He, too, bore a stake in his hand and held it poised above his head. With careful eye he aimed it at the young fellow fighting by the bank of the river; then, with a sudden movement he threw it as if it were a spear, and with such deadly aim that it struck the object on the temple.

d.i.c.k fell like a log. Had he been an ox that had been struck a true blow with the pole-axe he could not have fallen more swiftly. One instant he stood there, breathing hard, and whirling his club, defiant and by no means conquered, and the next he lay an inert ma.s.s at the feet of the rascal who had decoyed him up the river.

"A fine shot!" shouted the half-caste. "On to him, and make his hands and feet fast. Now a pole, and we will carry him. Later, when he has recovered, he shall drag his own body to k.u.masi for the sacrifice."

He stood by with every sign of satisfaction as the natives obeyed his orders, and smiled his cruel smile as the last of the lashings were completed. By this time a pole had been slashed from the underwood, and with a refinement of cruelty for which this race are known, the Ashantis thrust the pole between d.i.c.k's feet and hands, which were held together by the lashings, and prepared to carry him away suspended in that fashion.

"We will look at these comrades of ours," said James Langdon, as they turned to depart. "Ah, our friend, the white fool, struck true and well. The man is stunned. It will be hours before he recovers. Who will wait with him?"

"And risk the coming of this man's friends? None of us," came the answer. "Let him lie, and if he escapes, then he is fortunate.

Besides, he has comrades to keep him company."

He pointed to three others who had been struck down by the stake, and at once the half-caste bent over them.

"They are all hit badly, but will regain their senses, I think," he said calmly. "Well, let them lie there and recover while we push on. What of this one, though?"