Part 29 (1/2)
”Then that accounts for this butchery. They are trying to stop the advance, and these poor people have to suffer. Shut your eyes as long as you can, my lad. I'm hardened.”
But d.i.c.k could not. He looked on with dilated eyes and shuddered, for the next three hours were indeed too horrible to relate. Some hundreds of wretched slaves and prisoners were ruthlessly slaughtered, while the mob looked on, gloating. But happily for the white prisoners, there was little noise, only an occasional shriek from some waiting victim. The poor wretches were led to the bowl, and knives were thrust through their cheeks so that they could not utter a sound. Then their heads were forced over the edge of the bowl, and with a sweep of the sacrificial knife they were decapitated.
”It's done with for to-day,” at last said the prisoner who had spoken before, addressing d.i.c.k, wearily. ”A few score more of these poor people have been killed--men, women and children, and now the last test of all has been carried out. The fetish priests have said that if men who are tied up in the forest and left alone die quickly, the Ashantis will be victorious. If they live for many days the British will succeed. They have put knives through the cheeks of two of the captives and have led them away. It's all very horrible and very terrible. But never fear, things may come right yet. By the way, who is that sallow dog who fights with the Ashantis and advises them? See him there. He is watching and listening.”
d.i.c.k did not answer, for James Langdon suddenly emerged from the crowd, where he had hidden himself the better to watch his prisoner. Now, however, he came forward at a run, and stood in front of the man who had spoken.
”Sallow dog, you call me,” he cried angrily. ”I will tell you who I am.
I am the one who has so far kept you white men alive, and to me you may look for the order which will bring you here again for execution. That is your answer.”
He scowled at the prisoner and then went off, giving an order as he left the arena. At once the guards closed round the prisoners, and all were marched away, d.i.c.k being taken back and flung into his hut. He sat down at once with his back to the wall, and his eyes fixed on the door, and for an hour he hardly stirred a finger. Now and again his eyes moved a little, as the light which streamed beneath the door altered, and the shadow of a pa.s.sing man crossed it. Otherwise he allowed nothing to disturb his thoughts.
”I will do it,” he said at last, rising to his feet and pacing up and down. ”I am strong now, and once away I can live in the forest with ease, for there are plantains everywhere. I will make an attempt this very night, and if I fail, well it will only hasten my death by a very few hours.”
”Food and water. Take it!”
The door was thrown open by the man appointed to feed the captive, and a bundle of plantains tossed into the hut. An earthen pot containing water was set down just inside the hut, and then the door was slammed, for the man was in a hurry. Like all the inhabitants of k.u.masi, he was eager to go into the forest to watch the poor wretches tied up there, and to listen to news of the invaders. The guards also, two of whom were set to watch the hut, had their attention distracted on this day, for as d.i.c.k peered through the crevices in the door he could see them gossiping with the pa.s.sers-by, and straying far from the hut. When darkness fell the town was still in a state of agitation, for further news had come of a British victory, and the watch on the hut was even more careless. But the Ashantis had not entirely forgotten their prisoner, as d.i.c.k soon discovered. For as he looked out into the wide street, watching the numerous almost nude figures seated about the fires, and the warriors pa.s.sing to and fro, a gentle grating on the far side of the door warned him that he might expect a visitor. As quick as a flash he crossed the floor and sank to the ground on the far side, where he feigned to be asleep. He had hardly gained this position when the door was burst open, and two men entered, the second bearing a torch.
”Gone! He has escaped! Those dogs have let him go! Ah, no! He is here!”
The half-caste clenched his hands, and turned furiously upon the native bearing the torch, for as he entered, the half light cast by the flame had illuminated only a portion of the hut, and he imagined that the prisoner had gone. Then he caught sight of his figure in the corner, and heaved a sigh of relief.
”Safe!” he exclaimed, with a growl of satisfaction. ”Not escaped. That is good. Have we disturbed your sleep?”
d.i.c.k looked up wearily, blinking at the light, and then seeing who it was, and pretending that he had only just discovered the presence of his enemy, he rolled over again, treating him with scorn and silence, as was his custom.
For a little while the half-caste and his attendant stared at him thoughtfully, then they turned and left the hut.
”I felt ill at ease,” d.i.c.k heard James Langdon mutter; ”I fancied that he had escaped, and I came to see for myself. I can sleep peacefully now if I do not dream of these British.”
He clenched his hands again as he moved away, and d.i.c.k heard him muttering still as the door was slammed. Then came the sound of his steps, a fierce kick as he pushed open the door of his own abode, and a sharp crash as he swung it to again.
”Sick and weary,” thought d.i.c.k. ”His conscience is hurting him, or rather, perhaps, he begins to feel the net closing round him. We shall see. I gave him due warning, and if the time comes I will kill him as if he were a fly. Now for business.”
He rose stealthily to his feet and went to the door, where he remained for some minutes staring out into the street, and taking note of the position of his guards. Then he went in succession to some half-dozen tiny peep-holes, which he had diligently bored through the wattle wall of the hut.
”All clear,” he said, with a satisfied chuckle. ”It's quite dark now, and as these people go to bed early the place will soon be quiet. I'll give the guards a little time to settle down and then I'll move. This is the side for operations.”
He went to the wall which faced the hut in which dwelt the half-caste and set to work upon it. Slipping his hand into his sleeve, he produced an angular piece of iron, a fragment of a cooking-pot which he had picked up in a corner of the hut. Many an hour had he spent in sharpening an edge of the fragment upon a stone dug up from the dried mud floor, and now it was as keen as a razor. Holding it firmly in his hand, he swept it slowly and in a circle over the wattle wall, his fingers following the cut. Then he repeated the process, very slowly and very carefully, severing the stems one by one. Like all the habitations in k.u.masi, the prison in which he was incarcerated was built of wattle, woven roughly together, and plastered with mud to fill the interstices. Thus when he had contrived to cut through the stems a large piece of the wall was freed, with the mud still clinging to it.
d.i.c.k swung it open very slowly and peeped out. Then he replaced the section, and once more went the round of the hut, peering in all directions. Not a soul was moving, and even the guards had thrown themselves down beside the log fire disconsolately, for the news received that day was most disheartening.
”Not time to move yet,” he thought. ”They look quiet enough, but they are not sleepy. I'll wait a little, and then we'll see what happens.”
An hour later he swung the section open and stared out. Then he squeezed through the opening and threw himself flat on the ground.
Wriggling a few inches along beside the hut he soon obtained an un.o.bstructed view of the street, and could see the twinkle of the dying embers, with, here and there, a figure crouching over them. There were the guards, too, drowsing near one of the fires, their weapons dangling beside them. A dog barked in the distance, and for a little while a number of the curs which infested the streets of the horrible town set up a chorus of responsive howls, which were more than disconcerting.
One of the guards stirred, while a man who had been crouching over one of the distant fires, no doubt thinking of the fighting in prospect, rose and sauntered along till he arrived near the hut, where he opened up a conversation on the same old subject.
”They are at the Prahsu, these white dogs,” he said. ”What will be our fortune now? What think you, comrade?”
”How should I know or be able to guess?” was the sulky answer. ”Go to our fetish men. Or better, be patient for a little. There are the dogs whom we have bound out in the forest. If they die to-morrow we conquer.