I AGAIN BECOME A FUGITIVE.
The next few days presented little to chronicle. Life under the new
conditions was monotonously uncomfortable, but not distressing to me,
whatever it may have been to the less robust slaves.
We walked, with but few halts, from a little after sunrise to a little
before sunset; we slept as much as our discomforts would let us, and
we ate all that we could get--which was mighty little. Day after day
we tramped on through what appeared to be an interminable orchard,
which was so bare and shadeless that I was thankful for the burden
that protected me from the sun. For at this season of the year, all
the trees were leafless, and every blade of grass had been devoured by
animals, so that the country had a most desolate aspect, and it was
quite a relief to enter the narrow band of green forest that fringed
the banks of the rivers.
It will readily be supposed that during this time I gave no little
thought to my future prospects. At first I had been glad enough to be
carried away so rapidly from the dangerous neighbourhood of the mine
and the search parties of the fetish-men; but now I began to consider
whether I had so greatly improved my position--whether, if I had not
actually jumped out of the frying pan into the fire, I had not at
least jumped out of the fire into the frying pan. For if it was
impossible for an African to escape from slavery, it might prove also
impossible to me, in which case the prospect was not encouraging; and
I brought all my wits to bear, as well as Aminé’s chatter would allow
me, on the problem of how to get away from the caravan before I was
finally sold to some private owner. I was, however, unable to think of
any scheme that had the faintest shadow of feasibility. By day we were
all continuously under the eyes of the slave dealers, and at night,
although I was not cruelly bound, yet my hands and feet were too
securely fastened to allow of my breaking my bonds.
On the third day of our march we passed a little distance from the
great mart of Kantámpo, and I then observed that our conductors, no
doubt for excellent reasons of their own, were avoiding the main
caravan road, and travelling by a little-frequented by-path.
On the evening of the fifth day we encamped on the bank of a large and
noble-looking river fully as wide as the Thames at Richmond, which one
of the slaves recognised as the Firráo, or Volta; and early next
morning our leaders commenced preparations for crossing.
First an advance guard of Hausas was sent over in the huge,
flat-bottomed canoe that formed the ferry boat; then the rope (which
consisted of lengths of a few fathoms each, knotted together) was
untied, and the slaves divided up into gangs of ten, each gang being
sent across separately in charge of a guard; and when all the slaves
had been carried to the farther bank, the leaders of the caravan
followed with the horse.
The greater part of the morning was consumed by the crossing of the
river, and by the time we got on the road it was within an hour of
noon. To make up for the delay, the caravan pushed on at greater speed
than ordinary, so that when we at last halted for the night, we were
more tired than we usually were, although we had covered less ground,
having travelled not more than twelve or thirteen miles. This part of
the country appeared to be as thinly populated as that south of the
great river, for in the day’s march we passed but a single village--a
queer little collection of circular huts with high, thatched roofs
like candle extinguishers.
After we had consumed our meagre supper and settled down for the
night, I lay awake for a long time, gloomily meditating on my
position. The passage of this great river had raised another barrier
between me and freedom, and every day I was being carried farther and
farther into the unknown regions of the interior, from which escape
would become more difficult with every mile that I travelled. Was it,
after all, to be my destiny to spend the remainder of my life hoeing
yams or cutting wood for some negro master far from the sights and
sounds of the civilised world?
I was aroused from these reflections by a soft poke in the back, and
turning over, perceived that Aminé had shuffled towards me as far as
the rope would allow her to, and had touched me with her outstretched
fingers.
“Yúsufu!” she whispered, as I turned, “come nearer. I want to talk to
thee.”
“Hast thou not talked enough to-day, thou babbler?” I exclaimed
impatiently. “Go to sleep now, and give thy tongue a little rest.”
“Nay, but I have something to tell thee,” she persisted. “Come near
and listen.”
I shuffled a couple of feet nearer to her.
“Now say what thou hast to say quickly,” I said gruffly, “for the
night is passing, and we have to march at daybreak.”
“It is true, Yúsufu,” she said earnestly. “To-day we have crossed the
great river. To-morrow or the next day we shall come to Sálaga. There
we are all to be sold, if any will buy us, and then we shall be taken
away, who knows whither? and you and I, Yúsufu, will never see one
another again.”
This was rather startling and unpleasant news.
“In two days, thou sayest, we shall be there?” I said.
“Yes; or perhaps to-morrow night,” she replied; and then she added in
a low but emphatic whisper, “Yúsufu, thou must get thee away
to-night.”
“Must get me away!” I exclaimed. “It is well to talk of getting away;
but how?”
“I thought of a way,” she answered. “Listen! When we crossed the
stream this afternoon, I felt something hard stick in the sole of my
sandal against my foot, and all the afternoon I could not kick it out.
When I lay down, I picked it out with my fingers and kept it. It is a
little piece of broken shell, and one edge is quite sharp like a
knife. Now, thy manacles and the fetters on thy ankles are of cord,
not iron like ours, and I doubt not that I can cut through them with
the piece of shell. Then thou canst easily untie thy halter from the
rope, and so wilt be free; and if thou goest far enough before the
morning, they will never catch thee again.”
I pondered. It sounded a good and feasible plan, and it was apparently
my last chance.
“But what about thee, Aminé?” I asked. “Thy fetters are of iron.”
“Alas! yes,” she replied sadly. “There is nothing to be done for me. I
must go to the market, and be sold like the rest; but I shall be glad
to think that thou at least art free.”
I was deeply touched by the girl’s unselfish thought for me, and
profoundly reluctant to go away and leave her in the hands of the
slave dealers; but it would be utter folly to allow mere sentiment to
influence me in so momentous a matter, especially as the caravan would
be broken up in a few days, and the slaves scattered abroad like a
drove of beasts at a cattle fair.
“If thou canst set me free,” said I, “I shall be thankful indeed; yet
I am loth to go and leave thee here.”
“I am loth to stay,” she answered bitterly, “but it matters less to me
than it would to thee, for servitude is the lot of a woman. But
perhaps the shell will not cut thy bonds after all; put out thy hands,
and let me try.”
I thrust forward my hands and strained the connecting cords--which
were only a couple of inches long--as tight as I could, while she
sawed away with the little fragment of shell. In a few minutes it
began to be evident that the scheme would be successful, for strand
after strand frayed out and parted, until at length I was able with a
powerful wrench to snap those that remained.
With my free hands I at once set to work upon the complicated knot by
which my halter was tied to the rope, while Aminé sawed at the cords
that confined my ankles, and almost at the same moment that I cast off
the end of the halter from its fastening, I felt the last strand of my
fetters give way.
“Now thou art free!” exclaimed Aminé, taking my hand for a moment in
both of hers and looking earnestly into my face. “Go back by the road
that we came by, and do not loiter on the way; for if thou goest far
enough before the morning they cannot stay to follow thee. Now go
quickly!” She pressed my hand, and then, suddenly turning her back to
me, lay down and covered her face with her hands.
I rose to my feet and stretched my arms with great enjoyment whilst I
took a survey of the camp.
The new moon was just setting, and by the dim light I could barely
distinguish the prostrate forms of the slaves extended in a long row,
and the vague shapes of the huts.
In various parts of the camp the dull glow of the waning fires was yet
visible, and around the one at our end, the sleeping guards lay coiled
up on their mats. I stepped lightly across to them, setting down each
foot as I trod with the extremest caution, and examined them as they
lay, each wrapped in a warm bernùs, and breathing heavily, keeping
their vigil in the most approved African fashion, until I came to
Maháma; and there I found what I was in search of, for, beside him on
his mat, were deposited a fine, brass-hilted sword and the long, heavy
knife that he had taken from me.
The sword was of no use to me, but I picked up the knife joyfully and
crept, in the same silent, stealthy manner, back to Aminé, whom I
found lying on her face sobbing silently but bitterly.
“Aminé,” I whispered, “I am going to take thee with me.”
She turned quickly with a gesture of impatience.
“Go away!” she exclaimed in a hoarse whisper. “It is impossible; thou
art wasting precious time. Go!”
I took the rope where it was tied on to the ring of her collar and cut
it through, and as she still refused to rise, I stuck the knife
through the strip of rag that was tied round my loins, took her up in
my arms, and, hoisting her on to my shoulder like a sack, strode away
out of the camp along the path by which we had approached it.
The moon had now set, and the night was pitch dark, so that although
the country was moderately open, it was difficult to avoid straying
from the path; and Aminé, who though but of medium height was a
strapping, solidly-built woman, formed a burden sufficiently heavy to
tax the strength of a stronger man than me. In fact, I had not gone a
quarter of a mile before I had to set her down and rest, when she
again entreated me to hurry away and leave her.
While we were resting I explored the key holes of her fetters with my
fingers, and finding that they were made so as to be unfastened by a
key with a screw end, I determined to try if I could force them. For
this purpose I groped among the trees and cut off a small branch,
which I trimmed with my knife to a blunt point. This point I thrust
forcibly into the hole and rotated it until the wood jammed into the
thread of the screw-hole, when by giving it a few more turns, to my
delight and Aminé’s amazement, the ankle clasp fell open. This
manœuvre I repeated with the other three clasps with such success
that, in a short time, I was able to remove the manacles and leg
fetters, and Aminé stood up, hardly able to believe the evidence of
her senses, and nearly wild with joy.
We flung the fetters away among the trees, and, leaving the iron
collar to be operated on by daylight, set off along the path at a run
to make up for the time that had been consumed by these labours; but
presently we settled down, as our excitement somewhat subsided, into
a brisk walk, covering the ground at an astonishing pace
notwithstanding the darkness.
It was probably near midnight when we started, and we walked on, with
gradually diminishing speed but without a halt, until the first
streaks of dawn began to appear in the sky behind us, and our shadows
spread out before us, attenuated and gigantic caricatures.
The pale daybreak, rapidly brightening into sunlight, showed us, a
little distance ahead, a small stream, and we could see that we were
approaching a much-frequented drinking-place, for the ground was
covered with the spoor of hoofs and paws, all converging to one point.
The sight of these footmarks led us to glance back at our own tracks,
and I was rather dismayed to see how extraordinarily distinct they
were. In the darkness we had evidently strayed from the path which the
caravan had traversed, on to one even more unfrequented, where the
smooth surface left by the last rains on the light, loamy soil had not
been disturbed, except by the wild beasts, and the deep and sharp
impressions of our feet stood out as plainly as on a sandy shore when
the tide has just gone out.
Hence, if we were pursued, there could be no difficulty in tracing us,
for our tracks were as characteristic as they were conspicuous; my own
bare feet with the toes turned out, unlike those of a negro, and
Aminé’s round-toed sandals, could be identified at a glance. And that
we should be pursued I had little doubt, for Aminé was probably worth
as much as any other three of the slaves, and Sálifu Sókoto was not
the man to let her go, within a day’s march of Sálaga, without an
effort at recapture. But if we were pursued we should probably be
overtaken, for we had not travelled above a dozen miles in the night,
and we were now spent with fatigue, whereas our pursuers would be
fresh from a night’s rest, and had a horse into the bargain.
It was thus clear that our only chance lay in breaking our tracks, and
the stream that we were approaching seemed to offer us the means of
doing this.
I stood at the edge of the little river and looked across. On the
opposite side the same soft, smooth surface could be seen stretching
away under the little bare trees like a level sand-flat; but less than
half a mile away, the rocky face of an isolated hill rose above the
tree tops.
That hill would probably serve our purpose.
I led Aminé into the middle of the stream to where a large boulder
stood up above the surface.
“Aminé,” I said. “I am going away towards that hill, and I shall be
some time gone. Sit down upon this stone, and do not move until I come
back unless thou seest someone coming this way, in which case thou
must walk down the middle of the stream, but do not for any reason
leave the water. Now give me thy sandals, and I will go.”
She sat down on the boulder and took off her sandals, handing them to
me with a look of surprise, but without remark; and I at once crossed
the stream and struck out through the trees towards the hill. As I
strode along I selected the smoothest and softest patches of ground to
walk over, and the tracks that marked my progress were as conspicuous
as those in newly fallen snow.
In about ten minutes I reached the base of the hill, which was, as I
had hoped from its appearance, a mass of bare rock spotted with
patches of scanty vegetation. I walked round to the easiest slope,
which I proceeded to ascend, and in a few minutes I reached a surface
so hard and devoid of soil that my feet left not the slightest
impression. Here I slipped my feet into Aminé’s sandals, and looking
over my shoulder at the last of my tracks, commenced to carefully walk
backwards, turning my toes slightly inwards as Aminé did, and
following in this laborious and tedious fashion, the line of
footprints that marked the way I had come, until I at length arrived
at the stream, and walked backwards into the water. The result was
perfect, for there now stretched away from the river a double line of
footprints identical in character with those that Aminé and I had
left on our way from the camp; and these illusive tracks disappeared
in an entirely natural manner on the rocky surface of the hill.
Aminé gave a little shriek of astonishment as I came down into the
stream in this unusual manner.
“What is amiss with thee, Yúsufu?” she exclaimed, “that thou walkest
backwards like an ant-lion?” But when I pointed out the tracks she at
once understood my ruse, and sat down again, laughing heartily.
“Thou art as cunning as an old monkey,” she declared.
As we were both too tired to attempt a journey in a new direction, and
were, moreover, quite ignorant of the locality, I considered that it
would be safest to conceal ourselves in the neighbourhood of the
stream until we judged that the search was over, and I now began to
look about for some suitable hiding place.
One of the first objects that attracted my attention was a large odúm
tree that stood on the bank of the stream close to the ford. It had
once been a noble tree, but had either been struck by lightning or by
a tornado, for its upper half had fallen, and lay, a decaying mass, on
the ground, and its trunk was covered with a network of the curious
little earthen tunnels of the white ants, which ran from the ground to
the splintered extremity, showing that some part of the upper portion
was dead. From this I inferred that there was probably a hollow space
at the summit of the broken trunk, where the dead wood had been eaten
out by the white ants, and if this were so, it would furnish an ideal
hiding place, provided we could reach it. The latter difficulty was to
a great extent solved by a large monkey-rope, as thick as my arm,
which had hung down from one of the top branches, and which in the
fall of the upper part of the trunk, had become caught across the
broken end, from which it drooped in a great bight or festoon down to
the ground and again up a neighbouring tree.
The sloping position of this liana rendered it comparatively easy to
climb--at least, for me--so I determined to go up and explore; and
having “swarmed” up it without much difficulty, I found the upper
eight or nine feet of the tree, as I had expected, little more than a
shell filled with the papery remains of the wood, into which I sank up
to my waist.
The tree would therefore answer our purpose admirably, but there was
the difficulty of getting Aminé up to the hollow. I let myself down
to the ground, and reported to her the state of things that I had
found, on which she assured me that she was quite able to climb the
monkey-rope. However, to diminish the risk of her falling, I cut a
couple of fathoms of a thinner creeper, and passed it round her and
the monkey-rope in a double figure of eight, so that it could, if
necessary, take most of her weight; and having shown her how to manage
it, I again ascended, leaving her to follow. She reached the top of
the monkey-rope without mishap, and when I had disengaged her from the
supporting loop, I helped her over into the hollow and pulled the loop
in after, so that it should not remain to give a clue to our retreat.
Once inside the hollow we were perfectly concealed from view, but by
standing up we were able to look over the edge; and from our elevated
position we could see a considerable distance in the direction from
which our pursuers were to be expected, as we looked over the tops of
the small trees with which most of the country was covered.
As it was evidently impossible that the slave dealers could overtake
us for some time yet, it occurred to me to go down once more and
search the stream for shell-fish, for it would probably be necessary
to remain in the tree the whole day, and it was necessary that we
should have food of some kind. Bidding Aminé, therefore, to keep a
sharp look-out, and let me know if she saw anyone approaching, I let
myself down and commenced to systematically examine the bed of the
stream.
The clean silvery sand of which it was composed did not offer a very
favourable hunting ground, but, after working industriously for over
an hour, I managed to accumulate a dozen or two of miscellaneous
shell-fish, mostly small mussels somewhat like affaní, and a kind of
large water snail. These I stuffed, as I gathered them, into an empty
weaver-bird’s nest, which I had fortunately found hanging from a
branch near the water’s edge, and I had nearly filled this curious
receptacle when I heard Aminé calling from the tree.
“Quick! Yusufu! they are coming! Leave the shell-fish and climb up
quickly!”
I ran to the monkey-rope, and, grasping the narrow opening of the nest
with my teeth, climbed up as rapidly as I could; and I had hardly
scrambled over into the hollow when I heard the voices of our pursuers
sounding from below.
Very cautiously I put my eye to a broad crack in the bark and looked
out.
The search party, headed by Salifu himself mounted on his horse, was
coming along at a rapid pace, and was now within a hundred yards of
the tree. All the members of the party were armed to the teeth, and in
an excessively bad humour; Salifu, at the loss of his prey, and the
five men who accompanied him, at being hustled along in the wake of
the trotting horse.
“We must soon overtake them now,” I heard Maháma say, as he wiped the
sweat from his face with his wide sleeve. “They cannot have gone much
farther. Canst thou see if they have crossed the stream?”
“Yes,” grunted Salifu, standing up in his stirrups, “I can see the
footmarks of the infidel pig on the other side, and the girl’s, too.
Hast thou put plenty of slugs in thy gun?”
“It is loaded with a double charge,” replied Maháma.
“It is good,” exclaimed the old rascal viciously. “When we overtake
them, give me the gun, and I will blow the pig-faced Nazarene ape into
kabobs.”
Having announced these benevolent intentions, the old gentleman urged
his horse forward and splashed through the water, followed by his
retainers, while I held my hands firmly over Aminé’s mouth to prevent
her giggles from betraying our whereabouts.
As soon as our pursuers had passed, I turned out the contents of the
retort-like bird’s nest, and we proceeded to breakfast on the
shell-fish; and while I was opening the mussels with my knife, Aminé
popped the snails whole into her mouth, and crunched them up in a
manner that made my flesh creep.
When we had satisfied our hunger, Aminé commenced to while away our
vigil by pouring out an unending stream of chatter, but this I had to
stop (as she could not remember to speak softly) by sternly forbidding
her to speak; upon which she yawned plaintively, and presently, to my
relief, curled herself up on the soft tindery floor of our cell and
fell asleep.
The hours dragged on interminably. The sun rose to the zenith and
glared down upon us until I was sick with the heat, and Aminé moaned
and stirred in her sleep.
A belated parrot came and looked at us, and fluttered away screeching
with fright; down in the plain a herd of harnessed antelopes sauntered
about picking up here and there a stray blade of grass and sniffing
the air suspiciously, and just below the tree a black monkey sat at
the edge of the stream and dipped up little draughts of water in the
hollow of his hand.
I looked on at these various occurrences dreamily and listlessly,
keeping awake with difficulty, and watching the shadows slowly
lengthen on the arid ground, until at last, late in the afternoon, I
heard the welcome sound of voices and the noise of a horse’s hoofs,
and presently a splashing in the water told me that the party was
crossing the ford.
“It is a strange thing,” I could hear one of the men say. “I cannot
understand it. They did not leave the hill, for I walked all round
it.”
“They were not on the hill,” said Maháma, “for I searched every part
of it.”
“Chatter no more!” burst out the old man furiously. “They are gone. A
hundred and twenty thousand kurdi--perhaps more--are lost. And why?
Because of thy folly. Because thou must needs bring this
yellow-skinned hog of an unbeliever into our camp.”
“I did it for the best, my father,” urged Maháma.
The old man made no reply, but, as I put my eye to the crack in the
bark, I saw him kick viciously at the horse with his great spurs, and
he soon disappeared at a brisk trot among the trees, leaving his
followers to double wearily after him.
When they were gone I woke up Aminé, who sat up yawning and rubbing
her eyes.
“Is it morning?” she asked.
“No,” I replied. “It is not yet night, but they have gone back.”
“Is there anything to eat?” she inquired.
“Nothing,” I answered. “We ate all the shell-fish.”
“Then let us sleep,” said she, and without further parley she curled
up like a dog and instantly fell asleep again.
It seemed the best thing to do, for the night was coming on, and we
had large arrears of rest to make up; so stretching myself on the soft
floor, as well as the space would allow, I settled myself with an
unwonted feeling of comfort, and followed her example.