Part 26 (1/2)
It was a dark night, but the sky was clear and the air cold. To make a direct course was impossible. Bill knew the way in the daytime, but at night he was completely at a loss. John, however, was aware of the general direction, and by keeping within touch of the river, as he could easily do by his sense of hearing, he knew that he could not go very far wrong, though the journey would necessarily be longer than if he had been able to avoid the windings. Fortunately in this hilly country the ground was much less obstructed by tangles of thorn than it was in the less elevated districts to the south, and the safari was not hindered by the annoying necessity of having to cut a way through pathless jungle.
Nevertheless, the march was not devoid of trials and discomforts. The ground was very irregular, and at one point, where the bank of the river rose to a considerable height above the water-level, they found that they had come to a stretch of hard gravel interspersed with large fragments of a whitish rock, making progress very slow and difficult.
Looking back, John saw the glow of the fires left burning in the fort--a little patch of red amid deep black. When they descended to gra.s.sy land again he stumbled over an obstruction about three feet high, which Bill told him was an ant-hill. A little further on he heard a strange whistling that seemed to come from a line of trees on his left hand.
Hearing the men behind gulping, he halted, and got them to exchange loads, listening meanwhile to the weird and mournful sound, which now increased in volume, now died away in a doleful wail. He asked Bill if he recognized the sound as that of an animal, but he replied that he had never heard it before. After a few moments John observed that the sound rose and fell with the gusts of wind, and concluded that it was caused by the breeze sweeping through the trees. He rea.s.sured the men; but it was not till long afterwards he discovered the origin of the sound. The trees were a species of thorn about eight feet high, with leafless branches on which hung a number of hollow seed-pods. In these an insect bores a hole, and the wind, pa.s.sing through the innumerable tiny apertures, produces the musical notes which so much disturbed the negroes.
After about two hours, John felt much fatigued. The continued exertion had revived the dull aching pain in his back and limbs, and he thought it prudent to rest awhile. The progress had been so good that he could afford to waste an hour: there would still be time to reach the village before the dawn. The whole party lay down on a gra.s.sy knoll, speaking only in whispers. Occasionally the cry of some night-bird broke the stillness, and once there came, from far away, the sharp bark of a hyena. At the end of an hour the safari was again on foot. Twice more John found himself compelled to halt, and after the second time Ferrier persuaded him to let four of the men carry him, in a litter which they quickly made by slinging one of the blankets between two rifles. Always taking the river as guide, they pressed on again. At last, when the sounds of re-awakening life in the trees proclaimed that dawn was at hand, they came to the foot of a long gra.s.sy acclivity which John felt sure led up to the village. After a consultation with Ferrier, he decided to wait a little until there was light enough to show them the way clearly. The air was misty, but the blackness of night was pa.s.sing, and at length they were able to see the goal of their long march--the ”bad men's” village, lying in perfect stillness on the hill-top.
John led the men among some trees, and waited until he saw the gate opened, and a number of women come out and wend their way into the plantations to the left. When they were out of sight, he ordered the men to leave their loads and follow him closely without a sound. Then, regardless of his pain, he led the way at a steady run up the hill.
Ferrier came to his side.
”We do this together, old boy,” he said.
On they went. They had almost reached the stockade when a woman in the fields to the left saw them, and uttered a loud shriek. John quickened his pace; the men, unable to restrain themselves any longer, raised their voices in a tremendous shout. A few seconds later the whole party, the white men still leading, dashed through the gate, and along the single street, causing a wild stampede among the children playing there, and the women who were moving about. The uproar drew several men from their huts, where they were no doubt indulging themselves in a final nap while their womenkind prepared breakfast. Almost all were old men. At the sight of the invading horde they yelled and fled. John hurried on towards the compound where he had seen the war-party a.s.semble. As the scared negroes left the street vacant, he was struck with amazement at the sight that met his eyes. At the entrance of a hut at one side of the central s.p.a.ce stood a figure in white. He had risen from bending over a cooking-pot. Next moment Said Mohammed came towards his master, walking leisurely, his face beaming with smiles.
”Good morning, sir,” he said blithely. ”You have come in nick of time.
Banana fritters, new dish to savage with untutored mind, are done to a turn. On point of tickling unappreciative palates, they now serve n.o.bler end, delectating connoisseur who knows what's what. With respect, sir, I'm jolly glad to see you.”
Thus the village of the ”bad men” was carried without a blow.
John sent Coja back with a few men to bring in the loads and secure the gate. Then he lost no time in hunting through the village, and learnt, as he had hoped, that there were very few men left in it; and these for the most part old and negligible as a fighting force. He had given strict orders to his party not to injure any one wantonly. The women, seeing that there was no burning or slaughtering, recovered from their first fright. They recognized the prisoner in whom they had been so much interested, and their curiosity overcoming every other feeling, they drew slowly nearer to the strangers, uttering little shrieks of excitement. John made them understand that the men were hungry, and they ran with alacrity into their huts, not at all averse from preparing a meal for such inoffensive visitors. Meanwhile Said Mohammed had instantly seized his own cooking-pot and other utensils from the men who carried them, and set to work to cook more banana fritters and other dainties to which the white men had been strangers for many a day.
Before long the whole party were seated, enjoying a capital breakfast, the men laughing and chattering like light-hearted children. In the midst of the repast they broke into song, one of them chanting a line of solo, the rest chiming in with a boisterous chorus.
(Solo) Where did the white men go in the night?
(Chorus) They went to the place of the bad men.
(Solo) Why did they go to the place of the bad men?
(Chorus) To get very much food For themselves and the good men.
The white men must eat, The black men must eat, In the place of the bad men is very much food, O, eat all the food of the bad men.
John smiled rather wistfully as he translated the song to Ferrier.
”Poor devils!” he said. ”They don't think of what they may have to go through before they get home. Just like children.... We thought we'd never see you again, khansaman. What became of you?”
”Sir, I will round unvarnished tale deliver. Crossing stream, a thousand horse-leeches take fancy to my nether extremities, and cling like grim death. I make saltatory gyrations to shunt obnoxious hangers-on, when lo! enter crocodile, without introduction, his room better than his company. I was in blue funk, sir, and scooted, with celerity and splash. In agitation of moment I forgot my pals, and when I look round, behold! they are no more. I call: no answer; I call again: silence that can be felt. You could hear a pin drop. In the charming words of the handsome but afflicted Lord Byron--
'What next befell me then and there I know not well--I never knew:'
but when I came to myself, to quote from same sublime poem--
'I had not strength to stir, nor strive, But felt that I was still alive,'
for, below, leeches suck my vital fluid; above, black men have me in grip as firm as metropolitan bobby. They propel me, sir, with indignity to reverse of the medal, to this identical spot.
'First came the loss of light, and air, And then of darkness too:'
in other words, I, Said Mohammed, failed B.A. of Calcutta University, am consigned to ignominious horizontal extension on floor of beastly hovel.
I suffer in silence,