"The chief's wife bowed her head, but, seeing that she was weak, and that her mind was fixed on the thing she asked for, Muata took the matter into his own hand. He bade the women prepare a big hut for his mother—he put a stick to their shoulders; and when a man sought to slay him there in the presence of them all, Muata smote the man under the arm with his spear. So they built the great hut, and women waited on the chief's wife, his mother, carried water for her, cut the wood, and built the fire.
"So Muata was chief, and year by year he led the men of the place against the yellow robbers, till the name of Muata was feared.
"The would Muata take to himself wives, and would drink beer, and grow fat; but his mother counseled with him, saying he was a boy— saying he was only at the beginning of the path. And Muata listened, for she was wiser than all, and he set his heart on the plan she put before him to win back the land of his people.
"Thus Muata the chief was still a warrior and a hunter. He followed the spoor into the fastnesses of the woods, and trained the young of the jackal to drive the buck towards him.
"Ohe! it was ended. The evil-doers, the child-slayers, the robbers of men, sent spies into the forest, and when Muata returned from his hunting there was wailing at the kraal, and the fire was dead on the hearth. And the women cried, 'O chief, they have taken the lioness; they lured her out with tales of ill that had befallen Muata, even the young lion. So she went forth between the gates, and they, the robbers, carried her away.'
"Muata turned on his heel straightway. He sought the trail of the man-thieves. It was plain and level. It led through the forest, and by night his jackal led him on the scent. By day he followed; by night and day Muata went on the track to the river. At the river he heard news. They had gone on the river towards the setting sun.
"Muata took a canoe from the river people, and with his jackal he followed, while the sun rose and set many times, and he came to the father of rivers.
"The waters were wide, and his canoe was like a leaf carried here and there. His heart was sad, but the spirit of his mother prevailed. He followed, and a man came to him saying that the yellow men were near at hand, and sick of the sickness that shakes. Muata gathered together his strength and pushed on. Ohe! and he fell into the hands of his enemies like a child. He went among them sleeping, and when he awoke his hands and limbs were bound.
"And the enemy mocked him, saying, 'Is this Muata?' saying, 'even the ant will make him cry aloud;' and they smeared fat on him. They shook the ants over him, and they bit deep. They reviled him, they spat on him, as day by day he followed in the canoe tied to their greater canoe. They made plans about him to kill him, but the chief man said even a dog had his price. So they forebore to slay Muata, but they carried him down the father of waters to where there was a still greater canoe with wings. They put a gag into his mouth to still his voice, but in the night the jackal bit through the rope, and Muata was alone on the waters.
"Then the jackal cried suddenly, and Muata was borne out of the water, and he was fed.
"That is the story of Muata, and his heart goes out to the white men who brought him out of the darkness."
CHAPTER V
TROUBLE BREWING
That was the story of Muata!
The white boys looked and wondered. This man who had been through so many dangers could not be much older than they were. If his story were true, he had shown endurance, courage, and a force of character that set the stamp of greatness upon him as greatness would be reckoned among his kind.
Was it true that he had slain a gorilla with bow and arrow, that he warred successfully against the Arab slave-hunters? Had he subdued a band of men by sheer force of will?
The boys believed him. They did not stop to ask whether the story was probable. They formed their opinion upon the manner of the young chief—upon his grave dignity, and upon the absence of a boastful spirit.
"If his story is true," said Mr. Hume, "he owes much to his mother."
"Where is your mother?" asked Compton.
"The chief's wife is not a woman," said Muata. "And yet she is a woman. She beguiled them in the forest by pretence of great submission and fear of the woods. So they trusted her to bring firewood, believing she would not go far from the camp. But she was watching for sign of the little people. This I know, for she vanished in the woods near the river. And the yellow hunters of men knew not how she had gone; but they left word to people by the river to say to me that my mother had been carried away in a canoe."
"And what will you do now?"
"See, I am no one—a liver on kindness, a slave at the gate. But in time Muata will return to the place of hiding."
"Better stay with us, Muata. We go into the forest ourselves. We will give you food, and teach you how to use the weapon of the Arab hunters. You will hunt for us, work in the canoe for us, and, maybe, we will go with you to your hiding-place."
"The forest is dark and terrible. Why, will my father enter the darkness with his sons?"
"We go to hunt, and for the love of the woods and the water. Has not a hunter joy in the hunting?"
"I know it;" and the chief observed them intently, as if he were unpersuaded. "The ways of white men are strange. Muata hunts to keep the hut supplied with meat, but the white man carries his meat with him. When he kills he leaves the meat and takes only the horns or the skin of the thing he has slain. Muata is not a child. When he sees a single vulture in the sky, he knows there are others coming behind. A white man comes out of the beyond into the black man's country. He is soft-spoken; he is a hunter only. Mawoh! and behind him comes an army."
"What do you know about white men, Muata?"
"The wise men at the hiding-place talked. They knew one such. He lived among them. His ways were strange. He talked with the trees; he sought among the rocks; he communed with spirits. He was harmless, but the wise men said others would follow on his trail doing mischief. So I ask, my father, why do you wish to enter the forest?"
"Because," said Compton, leaning forward, "my father was lost in the forest, and I would find him. Tell me, where is the white man your old men talked of?"
"The forest takes, the forest keeps," said Muata, lifting a hand solemnly.
"Do you mean," asked the boy, quietly, "that the white man does not live?"
"The people dealt well by their white man. They gave him food; they carried water for him, and built his fire. Even I, as a child, carried wood to him and listened at his knees."
"I am not blaming the people; but I want to find the place that is called the Place of Rest, where my father lived; perhaps where he died."
"This, then, is the hunting?" said the chief, softly.
Mr. Hume recognized the suspicion in the altered tone and suave manner of the chief.
"We have spoken," he said sharply. "We go into the forest to hunt and to seek without anger against any. We thought you would have worked in well with us; but I see you are a man of a crooked mind."
"Softly, my father," said the chief, quietly. "Is it wise that a chief should listen to the counsel of strangers without taking thought for his people?"
"We saved the chief's life."
"The chiefs life is his own"—Muata snapped his fingers—"but the secret of the hiding-place is the life of the people. Go slowly, my father. Muata would work for you and with you; his shield is your shield; his eye is your eye; but the secret of the hiding-place is not his to give away."
"Then you must land here on the bank among your enemies."
The chief glanced at the far-off wooded banks, with lines of smoke rising from cooking-fires.
"I have no weapons," he said.
"We cannot help that," said Mr. Hume, with indifference. "Either you agree to take us to the Place of Rest, or you land."
Muata rose up, looked under the flat of his hand all around, then let the cotton sheet they had given him slip to the deck. The jackal started up, with his ears pricked and his eyes fixed on his master's face. The chief caught hold of a wire rope and jumped on to the rail, where he steadied himself.
"What will you do?" asked Mr. Hume.
Muata turned round and pointed to the otter on his chest.
"You don't mean to say," said Venning, indignantly, "that you are going to let him swim ashore? Why, the bank is miles away, and the crocodiles are in between."
Muata's glance fell on the jackal, and he spoke to it. The animal whined, then crouched.
"A favour, my father," he said. "If the beast followed me, he would be food for the crocodiles. Place him on land when you reach the bank, for the sake of good hunting."
"I will do so."
The chief took another long glance around, then drew himself up for the dive.
"Stop," said Mr. Hume.
Muata looked round.
"Your shield is our shield. So be it. We will not ask you to lead us to your hiding-place. Is that so, Compton?"
"When he leads us," said Compton, nodding his head, "it will be at his own will."
"At any rate," muttered Venning, "he has proved himself to be a man; but I wonder if he would have reached the shore?"
As he spoke the jackal howled, and the chief, who was still standing on the rail, slipped and fell with a splash. They ran to the side, and the jackal, with another howl, sprang to the rail and thence into the river, where a second or two later it was in the troubled wake of the steamer, beating frantically with its fore paws.
"Man overboard!" shouted Mr. Hume. "Stand by with a rope."
But the Belgian skipper on the little bridge held to his course, while a small knot of coloured passengers aft stood laughing and chattering.
"Stop her, you swab," cried Mr. Hume; then, as the man took no notice, he ran to the wheel, thrust aside the steersman, and jammed the wheel over.
The displaced man, with an oath, flung himself at the hunter with the sympathy of the passengers, who, ceasing their laughter, advanced with menacing cries.
Before the boys had time to comprehend the situation, Mr. Hume settled the matter out of hand. Letting go the wheel, he caught his assailant by the waistband, and with a heave flung him overboard. Then with a quick right and left he sent two of the others reeling.
"Now," he roared at the skipper, "back her, or by the Lord I'll fling you in as well."
"Fetch the rifles," said Compton to Venning.
A moment later the two boys stood at the ready with their rifles, and amid a babel of cries the skipper signaled "Stop her." The steamer slowed up, swung gently round, and shaped back to where three dark spots showed.
"There are four," cried Venning, at his first swift glance; "and one is a crocodile. It is making for the jackal."
"Take the wheel, Compton," said Mr. Hume, quite calm again. "Give me your gun, Venning."
The hunter, with the gun, went to the side and looked over. Nearest him was the man he had thrown overboard; beyond was the jackal, making a great splashing; and further on was the face of Muata, who was crying out encouragement to his faithful companion as he swam swiftly towards it; and to the left, moving rapidly towards the jackal, was the crocodile, swimming in a great swirl, with only his eyes showing, and the end of his snout. The hunter steadied himself with a shoulder against a stanchion, and then, without hurry or excitement, and after a look round the deck at the people, to see if there was any further mischief brewing, took deliberate aim and fired.
A shout went up, and the very people who had a minute before been so hostile, now were abject in their praise of Mr. Hume, for the crocodile span round and round in answer to the shot.
"Stand by with a rope, Mr. Compton," cried the hunter, taking command as if by right; and Compton obeyed promptly, but without excitement.
The first man caught the line and swarmed up wet, but subdued in spirit, casting an appealing glance at his late assailant. Muata, in the mean time, reached the half-drowned jackal, held it by the scruff of the neck with one hand, and, turning over on his back, waited for the rope. This flung and seized, he also climbed on board, but there was nothing abject in his appearance. Standing with his head thrown back and his nostrils quivering, he glared a moment at the group of natives; then, seizing a bar of iron, he made a bound forward, uttering a wild war-whoop.
There would have been bloodshed had not Mr. Hume, with surprising quietness, flung himself forward and seized the chief round the waist.
Compton, cool and ready, wrenched the bar away; and, seeing this, the natives plucked up spirit, calling on the white man to throw the "black dog" to the crocodiles, which had been attracted by the blood of their wounded fellow, still beating the water in his flurry.
Venning, however, stepped between with his rifle, and the uproar ceased once more.
"Now," said Mr. Hume, holding the chief by his arm, "what does this mean? What harm have those men done you?"
"My father has the lion's grip. Mawoh! Muata was a babe in his arms."
"That may be, but it is no answer."
"What harm! Did not my father hear the jackal give tongue?"
"I heard; and those jackals there"—indicating the watching group— "yelped at me, so that I flung one into the water. But—what then? Do you seek to slay when your beast howls?"
"My father does not know, then."
"I want to know, for it seems to me you were all mad together."
"Ohe! it is the madness that slays. Ask of those mudfish there for news of the man who stood behind them to slay Muata, who had the gun aimed to shoot when Muata leapt into the water. Ask them, and they will lie."
"What manner of man was this?"
"One of those who hound me in the canoe—even one of the man-hunters who seized my mother."
Mr. Hume looked at the boys. "Did either of you see an Arab on board? Muata says a man was about to fire at him when he sprang overboard."
"I thought he fell," said Compton. "I saw no one with a gun."
"Nor I," said Venning; "but the Arab may have gone below."
Mr. Hume hailed the captain. "My man said an attempt was made on his life. Have you taken an Arab onboard?"
"I have some mad English on board," said the captain, gruffly; "and
I will see they do not stay on longer than I can help."
"As to that we will see."
The captain nodded his head and signaled full speed ahead, turning his back on the Englishman.
"I think we can manage the lot," said Compton, coolly.
Mr. Hume laughed. "Perhaps so; but it would be very awkward to be detained at the next station as prisoners, or to be sent back. We must let the matter slide."
"Shall we search the ship, sir?"
Mr. Hume shook his head. "Suppose we found some suspicious passenger. What then? There was no actual attempt on Muata, and we have only his word; besides"—and he glanced at the angry captain— "there is no need to look for trouble—it will come."
He was right. At the next station, reached within a few hours, the captain lodged a complaint to the authorities in the persons of the Belgian officials, who were evidently charmed with the opportunity of teaching the Englishmen a lesson.
First of all, they placed Muata in chains straight away on their finding that he was a dangerous person. When Mr. Hume protested, they placed him under restraint; and that done, they pronounced judgment. The English would pay a fine of Pounds 100, surrender their weapons, and return to Banana Point by the next steamer down.
"Is that all?"
"That is all. But stay. As you will be possibly detained a fortnight, there would be a charge for maintenance."
"Be good enough," said Mr. Hume, producing a document, "to read that paper. It is a passport from the President of the Congo State— your king—authorizing Mr. Hume and party to proceed with his servants by land or water anywhere within the State for purposes of exploration."
The officers examined the document with sour faces, and one of them made an observation in a low tone.
"Precisely," said the other. "This document," he remarked, turning to Mr. Hume, "is not in order. It has not been visaed by the officers at the sub-stations."
"But it was initialed by your superior at the coast."
"It must go back to the sub-stations for endorsement."
Mr. Hume put a restraint on his temper. "And how long will that take?"
"Who knows? Perhaps a month."
"And in the mean time?"
"In the mean time, m'sieur, you will remain our guests."
"Is there no other way?"
"Monsieur must surrender himself to the unpleasant delay. There is no other way." "Unless—but m'sieur would not perhaps face the expense."
"Explain, gentlemen."
"There is a special transport for State business, but to call upon the service for other than State purpose there would be a charge of ten pounds per day."
"I see." Mr. Hume saw that these gentlemen wished to make money out of him. "Very good. I will myself go to the sub-stations by your special transport, and if the Governor says the charge is reasonable, I will pay on my return. I think that will meet the matter."
But it did not at all meet the matter, and the junior officer at once informed his senior that unhappily the special transport had that very morning developed a leak in the boiler.
There followed an embarrassing delay. The authorities waited for Mr. Hume to make a business-like proposal, but the hunter remained grimly silent. The two officers whispered.
"Observe, m'sieur," said the senior, clearing his throat, "my colleague suggests a middle way. If you will place sum demanded by the State in these cases, in the nature of a surety for good faith, we may permit you and your friends to proceed."
"My servant also?"
"Your servant?"
"The man you have bound."
"Ohe! Pardon, m'sieur; you are not aware that he is an offender against the laws—a notorious criminal. He will be detained and tried."
"I will remain to attend his trial, unless a sum will secure his freedom also?"
"There is a price on his bead."
"Offered by the slave-hunters?"
The shot went home. The officers had been hand in glove with the lawless traders, but they did not want the matter bruited about by meddlesome Englishmen. They scowled.
"He has broken the peace," said the senior, sharply; "he has slain the servants of the State. Am I to understand that you claim to be his master, responsible for his conduct?"
"No, m'sieur," exclaimed the hunter, quickly, fearing he had gone too far, and shifting his ground. "The man is a stranger; do with him as you please; but as for us, since we are here, we will, with your permission, make the place our headquarters. We could not be in better hands."
"You wish to wait for another steamer while your passports are visaed?"
"We will proceed in our own boat, which we would put together."
"Ah, you have a little boat?"
"A very small boat, m'sieur, with barely room for four men. We should be honoured to have your opinion on its qualities, and also upon our stores and their suitability."
Venning looked at Mr. Hume with puzzled eyes. He could not understand his callous abandonment of Muata.
"But," he began, "we cannot——"
"I think it is an excellent place," said Compton, quickly; "and perhaps these gentlemen would be good enough to assist us with advice out of their great experience."
"We should be delighted," said Mr. Hume, politely.
The senior officer stroked his huge moustache with an air of renewed importance.
"There are two spare rooms in my little house," murmured the junior— "one for the stores, the other for sleeping quarters."
"It is understood," said Mr. Hume, "that we pay rent, and also that we pay for the protection you may afford us. I insist on that, messieurs."
The senior nodded a dignified assent, but he was not quite won over, and retired to his quarters, while his junior inspected the landing of the goods, including the sections of the boat. In the afternoon, however, after his nap, the senior succumbed to the influence of a good cigar, and condescended to sample some of the stores. He was even pleased to crack a few jokes over the novel machinery for working the screw of the Okapi by levers, and in the evening he invited Mr. Hume to a friendly game of cards, thoughtfully including in his invitation a bottle of brandy and a box of cigars, for, said he, he wished to wash out the execrable taste of the everlasting manioc.
All the day Muata stood bound to a post in the square, the central figure of a ring of squatting natives, who chewed manioc and discussed his approaching fate with much satisfaction.
He was there, an erect, stoical figure, when the boys sought their room in the little thatched house—a room bare of furniture, divided from the next compartment by hanging mats of native make.
"It's a beastly shame," said Venning, for about the fourth time, as he stared out at the black faces reflected in the blazing log-fires.
"What is a shame?" asked Compton, who was inspecting the partition before seeking his hammock.
"You know well enough. Not a soul stands by the chief; even his jackal bolted as soon as he jumped ashore."
"Because Muata ordered him. He is probably watching from the dark."
"All the worse for us, then. I never thought Mr. Hume would have knuckled down so easily. Hark at him shouting over the game."
"What is the game, do you think?"
"Cards," snorted Venning, in disgust.
"So! Queer sort of partition this;" and Compton moved the mat aside.
"No need for doors, you see. Hulloa! Who are you?"
"Me Zanzibar boy, master," exclaimed a soft, oily voice.
"Then clear out."
"Me put here watch my master—see black fellows no steal."
"Oh, I see. Chuck a cake of tobacco, Venning. Here! You like that?"
"Ver good," said the boy, reaching out a yellow hand for the tobacco.
Venning crossed over and peered into the other room. "You boy," he said, "tell me, what will they do to Muata?"
The Zanzibari chuckled. "You want know, eh?"
"We don't care. One black fellow does not matter," said Compton, coolly.
"You brute!" muttered Venning, but stopped as Compton's hand gripped him.
The Zanzibari chuckled again. "What you give, eh, if cut loose that
Muata?"
"What do you say?"
"You pay me? Good. In night Muata is loose. He run up river. Bymby master go along in little boat, pick Muata up, eh? What you pay?" and the boy chuckled softly.
"Suppose I tell your white master, you rascal?"
"Wow! You tell, they kill poor Zanzibar boy."
"Then clear out," said Compton, launching a kick; "and if I see any more of you I will tell."
The boy turned sulky. "Me guard—me stay."
"You go," said Compton, "or I will call your masters, and let them deal with you."
Growling under his breath, the self-styled "guard" slunk soft-footed out of the room. Compton struck a match and looked around the apartment, then turned to Venning with a grin.
"That is the game," he whispered.
"I think I understand," Venning replied softly. "That fellow was testing you?"
Compton nodded.
"And you think Mr. Hume has not forgotten Muata?"
"I am sure he has not."
They crept into their hammocks, but not to sleep, and they were wide awake when Mr. Hume entered noisily some two hours later.
"To-morrow night," he shouted boisterously.
"With pleasure, and the night after, for good visitors are rare," called the Belgian.
"And good hosts also. Touching those two men you promised as the crew for my boat?"
"They will be here to-morrow evening," said the senior officer, thrusting a head round the mat. "Ah, you are comfortable, eh? Yes, I sent a messenger to Hassan's camp by the vessel which brought you. Rest well."
"They are good fellows, these Arabs," said Mr. Hume, with enthusiasm—"good fellows. I remember once——"
"To-morrow night," said the officer, as he withdrew, laughing.
Mr. Hume hummed cheerfully as he prepared for bed, taking no notice of his young comrades, who were regarding him with silent disfavour. With one yawn after another he blew out the light, and struggled into his hammock, to fall asleep almost at once.
Venning's uneasiness returned. He tossed restlessly, listening to the unaccustomed noises from without, and as the hours went by, and at last the sound of talking about the fires died off in a lazy drone, the desire to see what had become of Muata was too strong to resist. Softly he lowered himself to the earth-floor, but, soft as he moved, others had heard.
"Are the mosquitoes troublesome?"
Venning started at the deep voice so unexpected. "I did not know you were awake, sir."
"I sleep very lightly my boy."
"As you are awake, sir, I would like to say——"
But he stopped as the mat rustled.
"Come in," said Mr. Hume.
"Me guard, great master"—in the same soft, oily tones Venning had heard before. "Hear noise. Think may be thieves."
"Mosquitoes, not thieves," said Mr. Hume, quietly. "Bring a light."
The Zanzibar boy complied, and, holding a taper above his head, looked not for mosquitoes, but at the rifles in the corner.
"The skeeters, master," he muttered, with an evil squint at Compton, who was blinking at the light.
"Better get back into your hammock, Venning. You can go, boy; and keep a good watch, for we are coming to the thieves' hour."
The man showed his white teeth in a grin as he withdrew.
"Don't stir from your hammocks until I do," said Mr. Hume, very sternly, in a whisper; then louder, "Good night, Venning."
"Good night, sir," said Venning, convinced that the master was alive to the game, and more easy in his mind.
As he dropped off to sleep he heard the wail of a jackal, and next he was awakened by the sound of a native chanting. It was already daybreak, and Mr. Hume stood on the verandah, having drawn the mats aside.
The sun, striking under the thatch, shone on the hunter's tawny hair and beard, and Venning wondered how for a moment he could have doubted the courage of a man with such a lion-like head. But he was to receive another shock.
"Silence, dog!" roared the hunter, addressing the singer, evidently.
Compton, who was sitting on his hammock dressing, looked out.
"By Jove," he muttered, "he's shouting at Muata!"
Venning jumped down to the floor and looked out. Muata was still bound to the post, and, with his face to the sun, was chanting his words of greeting or of farewell in tones that lacked the deep chest-notes of his war-cry.
One of the natives, hearing the order of the white man, flung a stick at the chief with an insult; but Muata, nothing heeding, sang on his slow song in a voice that was almost like a woman's.
"Must white men lose their sleep because a robber is to die?" roared the hunter again.
Venning snatched up a beaker of water and ran out barefooted. He held the water to the chiefs mouth. Muata turned his smouldering eyes on the boy, sucked in a mouthful of the water, and then shot it out over Venning's outstretched arm.
Venning dropped the mug, and went back with a red face to see the two officers regarding him with sour faces.
"Serve you right," shouted Mr. Hume, in apparent fury. "When will you learn to treat a black like the brute he is?"
"Quite so," said the senior officer, showing himself. "I am glad to find you have no ridiculous sentiment."
"Ah! good morning, my friend," said Mr. Hume, heartily. "As for my young comrade, you must pardon him."
"He has his lesson," said the officer, dryly, as he pointed to the soaked pyjama.
"The man woke me with his singing. I have seen men shot for less than that."
"In good time," said the officer, with a sinister look, "the accusers will be here to-night, and to-morrow"—he made a gesture— "to-morrow you can also choose the two men you need for your boat's crew."
After breakfast, Mr. Hume had an opportunity of speaking without the fear of being overheard, for they finished putting the Okapi together, and worked her out by the levers into the river, where she gleamed in the sun.
"I dare say you think I am a brute," he said, "and I don't blame you; but if we mean to save Muata's life, we must appear to be altogether indifferent to his fate. Those men are keeping a close watch on us."
"I know it," said Compton.
"You do, eh?"
"That Zanzibar boy was spying on us last night before you came, and he tried to get us to bribe him to free Muata."
"I hope you were not so foolish as to fall into the trap?" said the hunter, sharply.
"I kicked him out of the place," said Compton. "I told Venning you were playing a game for Muata's life."
"You did me justice?" said Mr. Hume, with his gaze on Venning.
"It seemed to me terrible to leave him without a word of encouragement," said the boy; "but I am awfully sorry I doubted you, sir."
"You don't now, eh? Well, that's all right, and I think the chief knows too. That is why he spouted the water over you."
"A strange way of showing his gratitude," laughed the boy, with a reddening face at the thought of the outrage.
"Not so strange. He saw the Belgians, and did it to put them off their guard."
"That ought to help us in our plans for his escape."
"We have plans, have we?"
"You have," said Compton, confidently; "and your plan is our plan."
"Thank you," said the hunter, quietly. "If the plan is to succeed, it must work to-night. I do not fear these people here, but I must say I fear the Arabs who are expected this evening."
"I understand that you will choose two of those Arabs as boatmen?"
"The Belgians have arranged that, Compton, not I. Have you any suggestions to offer?"
"I think, sir, that we should get all our things stored in the boat to-day," said Venning.
"Eight; and then?"
"And then," said Venning, his face all alight with ardour—"and then—why, sir, then you shoot one of the hippos over there on that little island. Shoot two; and while all the people in the village are cutting them up for a great feed, we could free Muata undetected."
"That is not so bad," said Compton, judiciously.
"Not at all," said Mr. Hume. "But when Muata is free, what is to become of him—suppose, that is, he can get away unobserved?"
"I have it," said Compton. "The Zanzibar spy suggested it. Let Muata wait for us up the river, and we will pick him up."
Mr. Hume stroked his beard for some moments in silence.
"We'll, try that plan," he said finally; "but don't show any excitement. The native, remember, is a very keen observer. Now pull the boat in."
CHAPTER VI
THE FLIGHT
In the afternoon the village hummed with excitement. The word had gone round that the new white man who had shot the crocodile would give a feast, and the people squatted in rows on the bank watching a couple of their stalwart fellows preparing a canoe for an expedition after the river-horse. When Mr. Hume appeared with his Express in company with the Belgian officers, who were indifferent sportsmen, the people saluted him with a feeling of gratitude for favours to come in the shape of fat meat.
"Good luck," said the junior officer, "but I back the animals; they are very wary and very fierce."
"What is the betting?" cried the hunter.
"Oh no, my friend!" exclaimed the senior. "Keep your money for to- night; and don't drown yourself. We must have one game, you know."
"Very well. By the way, Compton?"
"Yes, sir."
"You and Venning may as well amuse yourselves by getting the stores on board in case we leave to-morrow."
"That depends on how the game goes," replied the officer. "If you win, we must keep you for a return match."
"That is only fair. But I may lose; so, my lads, go on with the packing."
The boat went off up the river hugging the banks, and the whole village sat down to watch the stalk, all but a few who went to and fro between Venning at the house and Compton in the boat, carrying the stores. The two officers turned in, with mats drawn, to enjoy their siesta, and the guards on duty sought the shade of the trees by the bank to watch the hunt.
The hunt was not a matter to be decided out of hand, by a swift paddle straight up to the sand-bank in the river, and a chance shot.
The canoe crept up slowly and passed out of sight. The old hunters in the watching crowd took counsel together, and then the chief of them announced what would happen. The "slayer of crocodiles" would, he declared, get above the island and then slowly descend with the current upon the river-horse.
"May he shoot straight and his powder be strong," shouted a river- man; "for it is the father of bulls who sleeps there—he who has eaten many canoes."
"It is the same," said the old hunter; and, taking a pinch of snuff, he began to tell the deeds of the old bull hippo.
So the drowsy afternoon passed lazily away to the watchers, and wearily to the white boys. Their thoughts were in the canoe, and, moreover, they were irritated by the slowness of the men who carried the parcels. No man would carry more than one package at a time, and after each journey he sat down to rest and discuss the chances for and against the feast.
When the shadows were creeping across the deserted square—deserted save for the man bound to the post, Venning for the hundredth time looked across with an aching desire to rush over and cut the bonds. As his eyes ranged sadly over the bronzed figure, he detected a movement in the shadow of a hut opposite. Looking more attentively, he saw the round ears of a jackal, and then made out the sharp face resting between the outstretched paws, and the yellow eyes fixed intently on the chief.
Muata lifted his head slowly, as if it were top heavy for the muscles of his neck, and his gaze went sideways to see if any watched.
Venning nodded eagerly from the shelter of the room; made a movement with his hands as if he were cutting; pointed up the river and spread his arms like a swimmer.
Muata let fall his head again, with his chin on his naked breast; and the carriers ranged up for the last load. A shout from the bank made them hurry. Several people who had gone to see about their fires rushed, yelling, across the square to the bank.
"It was as I said," shouted the old black hunter. "See where he creeps down-stream on the bull." "Wow! he has hidden the canoe in leaves. It is as a tree floating."
"Ow ay, we smell meat!" sang a big man, stamping his feet.
"We smell meat—red meat, fat meat; the red meat of the fat cow for the women; the tough meat of the old bull for the men;" and the women clapped their hands.
The Belgian officers were awakened, and stepped out of their darkened rooms. They found the village empty, save for Venning stooping over his last parcel, and Muata at his post with what looked like a yellow native our lying at his feet.
"The bull opens his mouth!" chanted the old hunter. "He wakes from his sleep! There is the smell of man on the wind! He looks around! He sees a tree borne on the current! He will surely eat lead!"
Venning picked up his parcel and followed the officers. Out of the comer of his eye he saw the seeming yellow cur lift its head and smell at the thongs which were bound about the prisoner's legs. Then he hurried on.
"Wow! the bull drives, the cow into the water. He is cunning. Ow ay, he knows."
"What does he know, old talker?" asked one of the officers.
"The cow is fat," laughed the old man. "The hunter would shoot the fat cow first, and so the bull makes her take the risk. He is wise."
"He is shameless!" screamed the women.
"See them?" said Compton, offering his glasses to Venning and pointing up-stream.
Far up Venning saw three dark objects on the shining glance of the vast river. One, the canoe fringed with branches, slowly drifting upon the other two, raised but a few feet above the water on a gleaming yellow sand island. One hippo, with its huge head swinging, was standing up, looking not unlike an overfed prize pig. Then the other rose, and the two walked towards the water.
"Wow! the old bull keeps on the safe side. I said it; he is wise."
"Shameless!" cried the women.
"Wherefore does the crocodile-slayer delay? Surely he knows the body will sink in the river if it reach the water."
"The smoke! He fires!"
"The cow is down! To the boats children—to the boats!"
Men and boys made a rush, and, out of a tremendous uproar of splashing and shouting, half a dozen canoes were flying at full speed for the cow's meat, altogether indifferent to the future proceedings.
"The smoke again! The bull has it! He is down; he is up; he is in the water! Wow! Look out, O 'slayer of crocodiles!'"
"But the cow lies still!" cried a woman, anxiously.
"Oh ay, there will be meat for the feast. But what of your man in the canoe if the bull seize him?"
"It is his risk," said the woman, calmly.
Venning dropped the glass, and he and Compton stood looking from the island to the old hunter, who seemed to know every point in the game better than they could follow through the glasses.
"Ah, it is well. They tear the branches from the canoe. They row straight for the island. The white man jumps—the men tumble out— wow-wow!—the bull takes the canoe in his jaws. It will go hard with those who go for the meat if he get among them."
"The white man leaps in the water!" shouted another. "But he holds his gun above him. He reaches the sand; the others crawl up also. They run! I do not see the bull!"
"There are crocodiles!" shrilled a woman, pointing with an arm heavily ringed with brass bangles.
"This is not their fight, mother."
"But they will take our meat."
"It is the bull I think of." "Will he meet the canoes, or will he face the three on the island? The white man sees the canoes; he waves them to go back, but they smell meat; they keep on." "What is this? He points his gun at them. They stop; they turn back."
"A pity," said one of the officers, with a grin. "We should have seen sport."
"But the sport is not over," said the other. "I back the bull. Remember how he put you to flight, my friend. What is the meaning of this, old man?"—this to a hunter.
"Surely, O great one, it means one thing. The white man is afraid the canoes would draw the bull away. He wishes the bull to land—to attack him."
"More fool he, ay, my friend," said the officer, with a sneer.
"One of the men on the island is pointing," said Compton, who had taken up the glasses again. "I see something in the water where the canoe went down."
"I said it," shouted the old black; "the bull will fight. Stand, fast, O white man, for it is either you or he."
Those watching saw the bull land and hurl himself with amazing swiftness at Mr. Hume.
"Why doesn't he shoot?" yelled Compton.
"Wow! the white man springs aside. The bull squeals; he staggers; he is down. Behind the ear. I say it. There the bullet went in. There will be much meat." The old man took snuff, and cast a proud look around as if he alone had done the deed.
"By Jove!" muttered Venning, wiping his forehead. "It seemed a near squeak."
The two officers went back to their cool rooms, and the crowd broke up, the women and children going off dancing to collect firewood. The little fleet of canoes descended on the island, and in a few minutes the carcasses were hidden by bands of naked men, who slashed and cut, while crocodiles, attracted by the blood, appeared from all directions. In a very short time the fleet returned, and Mr. Hume, standing in a heavily laden craft, ran a greater risk than when he faced the savage old bull, for the gunwales were flush with the water, and the men were utterly reckless as they dashed along at the head of the flotilla.
As the men leapt ashore, women seized the meat, and the village at once entered upon the wild orgy of the feast, forgetting Mr. Hume and all else in the one desire to start their jaws on the half- cooked flesh.
"Is all aboard?" asked Mr. Hume, as he jumped ashore.
"Everything," said Compton. "We watched your shot, sir; it was splendid."
"Well, that part of the plan has gone off all right. It will be a more difficult job to free Muata and get away ourselves."
Venning described how he had seen the jackal approach the chief, and as he and Mr. Hume went into the village, leaving Compton in the boat, they cast an anxious glance at the square already agleam with fires in the growing dusk. Muata was still at the post, his head drooping and his body relaxed.
"That's bad," muttered the hunter; "he looks quite exhausted."
"Perhaps he's shamming."
"Let us hope so. In any case we may have to wait until past midnight, as I am afraid our hosts will not let me off. It would be better if we could get away early."
Fortune favoured them, for as the Zanzibar boy approached with a message from the officers, there arose the sound of rifle-shots from the forest beyond. The people in the square shouted a reply, and presently a party of men, dressed in long white robes, appeared. They halted in the square, and the leader came on alone. He stooped to stare into the face of Muata as he passed, then approached.
"Welcome, Hassan! My people are feasting; thanks to the skill of my friend here;" and the Belgian who had come forward indicated Mr. Hume.
The Arab peered into Mr. Hume's face and salaamed, with an evil smile on his wide, thin-lipped mouth.
"I am thankful," he said in the native dialect, "for your kindness in bringing back my slave"—pointing towards Muata.
"It was a small thing," said Mr. Hume.
"But it pleases me; and when you reach my zareba, all that is mine to command is yours."
He looked at Venning, and the boy noticed that the pupils of the eyes had a white speck, which gave to them a sinister appearance.
"Good," said the Belgian. "We will have a night. Pardon me for a short time while I discuss a little matter touching the reward for Muata with my friend Hassan."
The two went off, the Arab casting a ferocious look back at the chief.
Venning tugged at the hunter's arm. "Look," he whispered.
Muata was slipping down the post, as if his legs had utterly given way. The party of new-comers were stacking their arms at the "indaba" house at the end of the square, and the village people were talking, laughing, and eating. Muata reached the ground, but not in a state of collapse, for the next instant the two watchers saw him crawl to the shadow of a hut, where he remained as if stretching his limbs.
"Come," said Mr. Hume, in a fierce whisper, recovering from his surprise; and the two went swiftly to the river.
Compton had already cast off and was holding by the boat-hook.
"Bring her in."
The Okapi ran her stern into the bank, and the two stepped aboard,
Mr. Hume going forward to the wheel, with his rifle in his hand.
"Shove her off; run as silently as you can out of hearing, and then work the levers."
Compton looked inquiringly at Venning as he picked up the oars, and then at the village, from which came a loud babble.
"Is he free already?"
Venning nodded.
"Good;" and then they bent themselves to the oars with every nerve on the quiver, and their eyes on the shore.
"Stop! Back-water!"
Obediently they stopped the way of the boat and backed her, wondering what had gone wrong. A turn of the wheel sent them in among the canoes. There was a flash of steel, a plunge of the strong arm down into the boats, accompanied by a ripping noise. Then the hunter waded ashore, and with his great hunting-knife ripped up the boats lying on the bank. Quickly he was back at his place.
"Now, off!"
Again they pushed off, the boys with their excitement increasing after this interlude, which showed them the imminence of danger. A few long strokes took the Okapi well out; then she was put about with her nose up-stream.
"The levers now, my lads!"
They perched themselves on the saddle-seats, and at the clanking of the levers the beautiful craft slipped swiftly up-stream.
Then out of the dark there rose the mournful howl of a jackal, almost instantly replied to by a similar call at a distance.
"The chief calling to his jackal," said Mr. Hume. "Thank Heaven, he has got away. Now I will let him know we are also off;" and he, too, gave the jackal hunting-cry.
Back out of the darkness came the chief's exultant war-cry, and on it a furious shout from the village, followed by the discharge of a rifle, and the rolling alarm of a war-drum. Then shone out the glare of torches at the river bank, and a savage yell announced that the men had discovered the injury done to the canoes.
One of the purchases made in London had been a lamp with very fine reflectors. This Mr. Hume fixed on a movable bracket within reach of his arm as he sat at the wheel, and when the lights at the village faded astern, he lit the lamp, in order to thread a passage by its light through the dark waters. As the noise of shouting, the drumming, and the report of fire-arms died down, other sounds reached their strained hearing—the booming of the Congo bittern, the harsh roar of a bull crocodile, and the cries of water-birds.
Then Venning laughed—a little short nervous laugh. "We have done it," he said.
"We have, indeed," said Compton.
"But if we can only pick up Muata and his jackal, we should be all right. Just a nice party."
The rudder-chains clanked; the boat set up a heavy wash as she turned from her course. There was a splashing, and something snorted almost in Venning's face.
"Nearly ran into a hippo!" sang out Mr. Hume. "We must keep out into mid-river; it's too risky inshore. Tell me when you are tired."
"We're quite fresh yet," replied Compton. "It is easier than sculling."
"Moves like clockwork," said Venning, gaily. "I could keep on all night."
"We'll have to keep on all night and all to-morrow," muttered Mr. Hume; and in a few minutes he relieved Compton, making him put on a heavy coat before taking the wheel. "It's the chill that is dangerous. In an hour you will relieve Venning."
Turn and turn the boys relieved each other at intervals, but Mr. Hume swang to his lever till the dawn, when the mast was stepped, the sail spread, and the spirit-lamp got out for the making of coffee. After breakfast the awning was spread, the mosquito curtains stretched round, and the boys were ordered to sleep. They demurred at first, but the hunter rather sharply insisted, and no sooner were they stretched on the rugs than they were asleep. The yoke had been slipped over the rudder, and, using the lines, Mr. Hume sailed the Okapi single-handed, taking her across the lake-like width till he was under the wooded hills of the south bank, where he beat about for an hour or so in the hope that Muata might have covered the distance at the native's trotting-pace. It was, he told himself, not likely, however, that the chief could have done so, after being for hours bound to a post; and after a time he beat out again into mid- stream afar off, so that no village natives should spy upon the craft. He did not share in the triumph of his young companions. Too well he knew that they had risked everything by their secret departure; but he could not see that any other course was open to them, as if they had remained it would have been difficult for them to prove that they were not concerned in Muata's escape. He knew, too, that if he had abandoned the chief, as the price of security, the boys would have lost all faith in him.
What, however, he did feel was, that the responsibility rested on him. If a mistake had been made it was his mistake, and if the boys suffered from it the blame would be his.
So he beat out into mid-stream, where the sail of the low-lying craft would be but a speck when viewed from the shore, and with a beam wind laid her on a course which she kept almost dead straight, with a tack at long intervals only. In the shade of the awning the boys slept the dreamless sleep of the healthy, and he let them sleep on till the sun stood almost above the mast, sending down a blaze that scorched. Then he beached the Okapi on the shelving shore of a sand-spit, without vegetation of any kind to give shelter to mosquitoes, and awoke them.
"All hands to bathe!" he shouted; and the three of them were soon in, and no sooner in than out; for, according to the hunter, the virtue of a bathe was not in long immersion, but in friction. "With their heads well protected, but their bodies bare to the sun, the friction was obtained by rubbing handfuls of the dry, clean sand over limbs and body till the skin glowed.
"Now I will snatch a few winks while you work the levers, until the wind springs up again."
Mr. Hume stretched himself forward under the awning after unstopping the mast; and the two friends, after tossing a bucket of water over the canvas awning, took their seats, clad in pyjamas and body-belts only, and bent gaily to the levers which "click-clanked" merrily. Their feet were naked, for Mr. Hume had taught the lesson that the feet should be cool and the head protected; their arms were bare to the elbow, of a fine mahogany hue; their movements were brisk; but the best evidence of health was in the clearness of their eyes. Fever shows its touch in the "gooseberry" eye, dull and clouded; in the moist pallor of the skin, and in a general listlessness. Even if they are free from fever, white men in Central Africa often grow listless because of insufficient nutriment. Their flesh-diet is chiefly the white meat of birds, and their blood-cells are really starved by the small amount of nitrogenous matter. A deficient diet in its turn is a frequent cause of diarrhoea and constipation, two of the most common complaints among new chums. In his hunting expeditions Mr. Hume had learnt his lesson from experience, and he accordingly was a martinet on the rules of health. All the drinking- water was first boiled. The boys could wear as little as they liked during the heat of the day, so long as they protected their heads and necks, but on the approach of evening they had to get into warm and dry under-garments; they had to keep a sharp watch for the striped "anophele" mosquito, were taught to spray the puncture, if they were tapped by the mosquito lancet, with chloride of ethyl, and had to submit occasionally to a hypodermic injection of quinine. The nitrogen they got from condensed meat juices.
"This is very much more like what I expected," said Venning, looking from the broad river to the distant wooded banks, and from the dark forest to the blue sky.
"I can see two string of duck, a whole crowd of ibis on a little island, a crocodile and a hippo."
Compton, who was facing the stern, glanced over his shoulder, then directed his gaze aft again.
"We seem to be traveling slowly," he growled.
"There's no hurry, is there?"
Compton raised his head a little, and looked under the shelter of a hand.
"They're coming," he said briefly.
"Eh?" Venning stopped, and looked back. The water glimmered under the sun like a vast silver sheet. "I can see nothing."
"Don't you see a dark smudge. Well, that is the smoke from a steamer. I thought at first it came from a land-fire. But it does not. Send her along."
Venning quickened up, and for some minutes pedals and levers worked at almost racing speed.
"We cannot keep this up. Give him a call!" Venning shouted, and Mr.
Hume looked round.
"Bid you call?"
"They are after us," and Venning jerked his head back, while still bending to his work.
The hunter loosened the canvas awning, and stood up for a long look aft. Then he faced about, and threw a quick glance up-river.
"Keep her straight for that wooded island," he said, pointing ahead towards the south bank; and Venning pulled the steering-line to place the Okapi on a new course.
Mr. Hume took in the awning and packed it away. "Now, my lads," he said, "we'll just face the position. That's the fort launch racing up, and she could overhaul us in two hours. If we surrender we should be safe from violence, but they would probably confiscate our boat or detain us for weeks. If we resist they would be justified in running us down. What shall we do?"
"Escape," said Compton.
"Of course," Venning chimed in.
"By attempting to escape," continued Mr. Hume, "we as good as admit that we aided and abetted Muata, and, if captured, they would make it harder for us."
"At any rate, we meant to free Muata."
"Besides, we must escape," said Compton, with determination.
The perspiration was rolling off their faces, for, as soon as they worked at high pressure, they felt the pull of the screw.
"Come forward, both of you," said Mr. Hume, rolling up his sleeves.
"Compton, you take the wheel, and Venning, you get out the guns."
They obeyed him, and he, kneeling on the aft-deck between the two levers, grasped one in either hand, and got more speed out of the Okapi than they had by their united efforts. The muscles stood out like ropes on his brawny arms, and the levers smoked in the slots.
"Keep her to the north of the island."
The boat hummed along, drew up to the nose of the island, skirted its reedy side, where stood a hippo eating at the rank grass, and then dropped it astern.
"Good," said Mr. Hume, with a great grunt of satisfaction, as he swept his eyes over the river.
"See those dark spots ahead? They must be the first of the thousand islands that stretch away right up to the Loanda river. If we can get into them we are safe."
"Can I help?" asked Venning, having set out the rifles in the well, with the ammunition handy.
"Whistle for a wind. That's all. Fix your eyes on the islands,
Compton, and slip in where they are thickest."
"Ay, ay," muttered Compton, frowning under the stress of his excitement.
Venning searched for the field-glasses, and as the island they had passed sank low astern, he swept the river for sign of the pursuing launch.
"By Jove!" he muttered, with a start.
"Well?"
"She has shifted her course. I can see the white of her hull right under the trees on the south bank."
"She must have gained a lot, then," grunted Mr. Hume, "if you can see her hull."
"She's making out again. Perhaps she put in to speak a native village, and maybe they have not seen us; we are low in the water."
"They'll see us soon enough. Tell me when she passes the island we just left."
"She's making across. No, she's turning. Ah, now she's pointing straight for us. I can see several people in her bows."
"Now turn your glasses on the islands ahead."
Venning turned round, and looked up-stream.
"Is the launch nearer than the islands?"
"I can see a stork standing on the edge of the water. The first of the islands is nearest." He turned again to watch the launch. "There is more smoke—they are stoking up."
The launch was unquestionably coming up hand over hand, and it was not long before Venning could see the foam at her bows, and the flag of the Congo Free State flying at her stern. Then he saw a ball of smoke.
"She is firing!" he yelled.
Compton never took his eyes off the little cluster of reeds ahead that marked the first of the thousand islands.
"Keep her going!" he shouted.
Mr. Hume smiled grimly, for he was doing the work of two men.
"They are loading the gun!" cried Venning. "Oh, if I only could help!" He buttoned and unbuttoned his coat, then picked up the sculls, and fell to rowing with fierce energy. "The smoke!" he cried. Then, a moment later, "What's that noise?" as a menacing sound with a shrieking whistle to it smote on his ears.
There was no need for an answer. The shot struck the water about a hundred yards short, and skipped by, wide of the Okapi, but still too near to be pleasant.
"Keep on!" shouted Compton, fiercely.
The levers clanked furiously, and Venning, who had suspended his sculling under the menace of the shot, tugged again at his work.
The steam-whistle of the launch sounded a series of sharp, jerky calls, followed by the firing of a Mauser bullet. Venning's heart was pumping blood at express speed under the violence of his efforts, and his eyes in a wild stare were fixed on the approaching craft, which had now brought its living freight within recognizable distance. He could distinguish the two Belgian officers and the swart face of the Arab chief, Hassan. He could see the men with rifles, aiming, as it seemed, straight at him, and then he ducked his head as he saw the smoke once more belch from the seven-pounder. At the same moment he was nearly capsized by the sudden swerve of the Okapi, as she almost turned on her keel. The shot struck the water so close that the spray drenched them. Compton looked round and shouted aloud—
"They're aground! Hurrah!"
Venning, recovering himself, saw the men on the launch hurled to the deck.
"Hurray!" he shouted.
"Keep on!" shouted Compton; and, after another five minutes' burst, the Okapi swept behind one island and passed in between two others. "Now," he said, "give me the levers."
"You're welcome," said Mr. Hume, wiping the moisture from his brow and taking a huge breath.
He went forward to the wheel, and threaded the Okapi through narrow passages between islands of all shapes and sizes, until after having got into such a fastness as would be impracticable for the launch to reach, he ran the boat on a shelving sandbank. Then, before anything else was attempted, the awning was fixed, and they settled down for a needed rest. Next the boys smacked each other on the back.
"Was it by accident or design, Compton, that you led them into the shallows?"
"I saw we could not reach the shelter of the island, and was feeling bad, when I caught a ripple on the water to the right. I edged the Okapi on after the first ball shot was fired, and as we drew nearer I was sure there was a long sandbank. When I made that sharp turn as the second shot was fired, I could see the outline of the bank just under water, and turned to avoid it."
"It was a mercy you altered our course just at that moment,
Compton."
"Wasn't it? It was touch and go. We stood to be run down or knocked into smithereens in another minute;" and Venning shook Compton's hand.
"Did you see them go over like ninepins," laughed Compton, "when they struck? But I'm not claiming any credit, you know. If it had not been for Mr. Hume——"
"We all did our share," said the hunter, "and we have every cause to be thankful; but we must not imagine that the chase is over."