Part 10 (1/2)

That afternoon they arrived at their new abode--a large, dry cavern--the entrance to which was not only well concealed on the face of a cliff in the heart of a dense jungle, but so difficult of access that a mere handful of men might easily have maintained it against a host.

Here Ravonino made no further delay than was necessary to see the party fairly settled. Then he left them, but not before receiving many an earnest and affectionate message to friends and kindred of the fugitives still at the capital, but who had, as yet, managed to elude the vigilance and escape the malignity of Queen Ranavalona and her spies.

Some of the women even wept as they bade the guide farewell, saying that they felt sure he would at last fall a victim to the relentless fury of the Queen, and that they should see his face no more.

With these the guide gently remonstrated.

”Think you not,” he said, ”that G.o.d is as able to protect me in Antananarivo as here in the wilderness? I go because I think that duty calls me. I expect no miracle in my behalf. I will take all possible precautions. Farewell.”

Once more our three travellers found themselves advancing rapidly in single file through the forest, with the guide in advance. Before the sinking sun compelled them to encamp under the trees that night they had put many miles between them and the hiding-place of the outlawed Christians.

Next day, as they were about to resume their journey, Ravonino told them that about noon they would come to a large river, on the other side of which there was a village where they could spend the night, for the people and their chief were friendly.

”Are they Christians?” asked Mark.

”No--at least the most of them are not, though there may be a few secret converts among them; for this hot persecution at the capital has scattered the Christians far and wide through the land, so that the knowledge of the blessed Gospel spreads. Thus our G.o.d makes the wrath of man to praise Him. The remainder of wrath He has promised to restrain. If He wills it otherwise, are we not prepared to die at His bidding? Many of our people have died already under the b.l.o.o.d.y reign of Ranavalona the usurper. How many more shall perish, who can tell?”

”But how do it come about,” asked Hockins, ”that this here chief is friendly?”

”Because I had occasion to render him good service at one time, and he is grateful.”

”Good! Das allers de right way,” remarked Ebony, with an approving nod.

”W'en a man's grateful he's safe--you's sure ob 'im. Is dat de ribber you refur to jes' now?”

He pointed to an opening among the trees ahead, through which the sheen of water glittering in the sunlight could be seen.

Before the guide could reply a loud shout startled them, and next moment they were surrounded by half-naked savages, who brandished their spears threateningly.

Quick as lightning, according to a pre-arranged plan in case of sudden attack, Mark, Hockins, and the negro stood back-to-back, facing in all directions--the first with his gun advanced, the seaman pointing his cutla.s.s at the foe, and Ebony levelling a spear with which he had provided himself, little would their courage have availed them, however, if Ravonino had not been there, for a flight of spears would have ended their resistance in a moment.

”Voalavo, your chief, is my friend,” said the guide, calmly, without putting himself in an att.i.tude of defence, or showing the slightest symptom of alarm. ”Is Voalavo with you?”

”Voalavo comes,” they replied, at once lowering their weapons and pointing in the direction of the river, whence proceeded sounds as of the lowing of cattle.

”We have been to visit our enemies,” said one of the party, who, from his tones and bearing, appeared to be a leader. ”We have smitten them, and we have brought away their cattle.”

As he spoke another native was seen approaching. He was a large burly jovial-looking man, somewhere about forty years of age, armed with a spear and enveloped in the native _lamba_, a garment used much in the same way as the Scottish plaid, which it resembled in form, though of much lighter material. The ornamentation of this garment proclaimed the wearer a person of distinction, and the evident satisfaction that beamed on his broad jovial countenance when he recognised and greeted Ravonino showed that it was Voalavo himself--the chief of the village they were approaching.

”I'm sorry to see,” said the guide, after the first few words of salutation, ”that my friend still delights in war and robbery.”

”Don't be sorry, friend, don't be sorry,” returned the chief with a hearty laugh, as he gave the other a slap on the shoulder. ”Sorrow does no good. It only puts water in the eyes and makes them red. Look at me--just returned from `war and robbery,' and as happy as a squirrel.

If a man does not delight in war and robbery, what is there in the world to delight in? If _I_ am not sorry why should _you_ be? If you can't help it--then laugh at it and try to enjoy your sorrow. That's the way _I_ do. It suits me. I grow fat on it!”

He certainly did grow fat--if not on laughing at sorrow, certainly on something else--and his followers, although respectfully silent, showed by their smiling faces that they sympathised with their chief's hilarious mood.

”But where did you fall in with the white men?” asked Voalavo, turning suddenly towards Mark and Hockins, who stood listening with interest and curiosity to the rapid flow of his unintelligible talk. ”Such pale flowers do not grow in _our_ forests!”

In a few words Ravonino explained the history of our adventurers as far as he knew it, and the chief, on learning that they were his friend's friends, bade them welcome, and shook hands heartily in the European fas.h.i.+on--a mode of expressing friends.h.i.+p which had probably been learned from the missionaries, who, after spending many years in Madagascar, had, about the time we write of, been all banished from the island.

”Come now,” cried the chief, ”the rice will soon be ready--that won't make you sorry, Ravonino, will it?--and we have yet to cross the river with the cattle in the face of the hungry crocodiles--which won't make _them_ sorry! Come.”