Part 19 (1/2)

Nares on his part knew that Ormsgill was well in front of him, and Ormsgill as a rule traveled fast, but it was evident that he must have made a long journey already, and the Mission boys were fresh. That, at least, was clear by the pace they made, but it did not greatly slacken when weariness laid hold on them. They pushed on without flagging through the unlifting shade, and the ashes of their cooking fires marked their track across leagues of forest, until late one night they stopped suddenly in a more open glade, and Nares, flung forward in his hammock, seized the pole and swung himself down.

He alighted in black shadow, but he could dimly see one of the boys in front of him leaning forward as though listening. A blaze of moonlight fell upon the trail some forty yards away, and two great trunks rose athwart it in towering columns, but there was nothing else visible.

Still, the boy, who now crouched a trifle, was clearly intent and apprehensive. He stood rigid and motionless, gazing at the bush, until he slowly turned his head.

Nares, who could hear no sound, felt his heart beat, for the man's att.i.tude was unpleasantly suggestive. It seemed that he was following something that moved behind the festooned creepers with eyes which could see more than those of a white man, and Nares felt the tension becoming unendurable as he watched him until the negro flung out a pointing hand. Then a voice rose sharply.

”Move forward a few paces out of the shadow,” it said in a native tongue.

Nares laughed from sheer relief, for the voice was familiar.

”We'll move as far as you wish, but we're quite harmless,” he said.

There was a crackle of undergrowth, and a white-clad figure stepped out of the bush with something that caught the moonlight and glinted in its hand. Nares moved forward, and in another moment or two stopped by Ormsgill's side.

”I might have expected something of the kind, but I scarcely fancied you were so near,” he said. ”Anyway, I should not have supposed a white man could have crept up on us as you have done.”

Ormsgill's smile was a trifle grim. ”Most white men have not been hunted for their life,” he said. ”As a rule it's prudent to take precautions in the bush. It was not you I expected to see.”

”Still, I have come a long way after you.”

”Then we'll go back to camp,” said Ormsgill. ”Bring your boys along.”

He sent a hoa.r.s.e call ringing through the shadows of the bush, and then turned to his companion as if in explanation.

”One or two of the boys have Sniders, and their nerves might be a trifle unsteady,” he said, ”I can't get them to keep their finger off the trigger.”

”Sniders?” said Nares.

Ormsgill laughed. ”There are, it seems, a few of them in the country.

I have now and then come across American rifles, too. I don't know how they got here, and it's not my business, but it is generally believed that officials now and then acquire a competence by keeping a hand open and their eyes shut.”

Nares, who asked no more questions, followed him through the creepers and undergrowth until he turned and pointed to a stalwart negro standing close against a mighty trunk, who lowered his heavy rifle with a grin. Then the faint glow of a smoldering fire became visible, and Ormsgill stopped where the moonlight streamed down upon the ground sheet spread outside a little tent.

”Your boys can camp among my carriers,” he said. ”You will probably have fed them, but I can offer you a few biscuits and some coffee.

It's Liberian.”

The coffee was made and brought them by a splendid grinning negro with blue-striped forehead, who hailed from the land where it was grown, and while they drank it Nares made his errand clear. When he had done this Ormsgill laid down his cup and looked at him.

”There is one thing you have to do, and that is to go back to the Mission as fast as you can,” he said. ”Our friends in authority will make things singularly uncomfortable for you if they hear that you have taken the trouble to spoil their plan by warning me.”

Nares smiled and shook his head. ”You ought to be acquainted with the customs of this country by now,” he said. ”I couldn't keep clear of all the villages on my way up, and, if I had, news of what I have done would have reached San Roque already.”

”Ah,” said Ormsgill quietly, ”that is probably correct. It is unfortunate. I won't attempt to thank you--under the circ.u.mstances it would be a trifle difficult to do it efficiently. Well, since you can't go back to the Mission, you must come on with me.”

Nares looked at him in some astonishment. ”After what I told you, you are going on?”

”Of course!” and Ormsgill laughed softly. ”I have been trailing Domingo for a long while, and he is, as you know, in the village a few days' march in front of us with most of the boys. It is scarcely likely that I shall have a more favorable opportunity.”

”Haven't I made it clear to you that the Headman is a friend of his, and they are supposed to have arms there? Can't you understand yet that Domingo will embroil you with him, and arrange that you will have to fight your way out? Even if you manage it Dom Luiz is close behind with several files of infantry, and will certainly lay hands on you.