Part 3 (1/2)

Some of the paddlers and oarsmen in the boats that surrounded the Admiral Dupont were almost six feet in height and splendidly built.

”Good looking fellows those,” said the captain, who had joined the group of wondering young adventurers, ”but in spite of their good looks they are petty thieves, if they get the chance.”

Of this quality, the boys were soon to get an example. Frank had laid down his field-gla.s.ses on a deck chair and didn't give them any more thought, even when the decks were fairly swarming with half-naked, chattering, laughing Kroomen. When he looked around for them, however, for the purpose of making out more clearly the outline of the distant mountains, the gla.s.ses had vanished.

The young leader quickly divined what had occurred and stepping to the rail he held above his head an English sovereign and a pair of gla.s.ses, borrowed, from Billy.

”I'll give this money to the man who finds my field gla.s.ses,” he shouted.

”It's a long chance,” he remarked to Harry, ”there may be some one there who understands English. Anyway they can see that I'm willing to give money for something like the object I held up.”

As much to Frank's astonishment as anyone else the next minute they heard a hail from a canoe containing two particularly black Kroomen.

”Hey, boss;” one of them was shouting, ”what you lost, eh?”

”Some one stole my field-gla.s.ses,” shouted back Frank.

”All right, American ma.s.sa,” hailed back the Krooman, ”I sail long time 'Merican s.h.i.+ps. I catch him for you.”

”Well, what do you think of that?” demanded Billy. ”If the Statue of Liberty had come off her perch and done a song and dance you couldn't have astonished me more than to hear that sack of coal talk English.”

”They take several of those fellows to sea on trading s.h.i.+ps, that stop in here for logs from the interior,” struck in Ben. ”It wouldn't surprise me but what that fellow there has been in New York harbor, yes, and in San Francisco too.”

The boys looked their astonishment.

”They are good hard workers,” went on Ben, ”and make good sailormen.

They always come back here though in the end. They are as home loving as a house cat.”'

While the boys talked, their baggage was being hoisted into a lighter that lay alongside, ready for s.h.i.+pment ash.o.r.e. They were about ready to quit the s.h.i.+p when their attention was attracted by a terrific uproar among the natives alongside. Two or three canoes had been upset and in the water half a dozen Kroomen were splas.h.i.+ng about like big, black fish.

”They'll drown,” gasped Harry, as he watched the furious water battle.

”Not them,” sniffed Ben, ”they are as much at home in the water as they are ash.o.r.e. h.e.l.lo!” he exclaimed, suddenly pointing, ”there's your field-gla.s.ses again, Frank.”

Sure enough, from the hands of a spluttering, half-drowned native, the Krooman who spoke English had just wrested a dripping pair of black morocco-covered field-gla.s.ses. He held them aloft in triumph, treading water while he held the other's head under the sea as a punishment for his thievery.

”I catch 'um, boss, I catch um,” he kept shouting triumphantly. A few seconds later, having half drowned the unfortunate thief, he stood dripping like a figure cut out of black basalt before the boy.

As he received his recovered property Frank presented its rescuer with the sovereign. If it had been a fortune the man could not have been more overcome with grat.i.tude. He sank on his knees.

”You come ash.o.r.e my boat?” he begged. ”Cost nothing to United States boys.”

The adventurers a.s.sented and, having seen their baggage properly stowed on the lighter, they landed through the surf a short time later and found themselves on the flat, yellow beach facing the rather dreary looking row of Europeans' houses. The method of landing the surf boats and the wonderful dexterity with which the natives handle them is worth a whole chapter to itself. But it might prove tedious reading, so suffice it to say, that with one man standing erect in the stern with a steering oar, and the others paddling like demons, the Ivory Coast boatmen invariably land their pa.s.sengers, in a smother of foam which seems overwhelming, without spilling a drop of water on them. Not a visitor to this coast but has been impressed by their wonderful skill.

”Well, here we are,” remarked Billy, looking about him at the novel surroundings.

”The first thing to do,” announced Frank, ”is to go to the house of Monsieur Desplaines, to whom Mr. Barr gave us a letter of introduction, and talk over our plans.”

Monsieur Desplaines was the consular agent of the United States government at a.s.sini, which is a French port, and had promised by cable to Mr. Barr to give, the young travelers all the advice that his experiences could suggest. He had also volunteered to select for them a train of native baggage carriers, and hunters that would be reliable. There are no roads into the heart of Africa and everything is transported by human pack-trains. The natives of this part of the coast are strong, muscular men not easily fatigued and are capable of carrying burdens on their heads twenty-five miles or more a day without exhaustion.