THE PLACE OF REST
The chiefs wife urged them on. Neither night nor day did she seem to
rest, for whenever one of the boys, in a feverish sleep, tossed his
arms about, she was at his side with a drink compounded of herbs,
that kept the fever away. She took her spell at the levers, her long
round arms moving with unexpected power, and only the hunter himself
could tire her out. As for him, he was not happy unless he was
working, and at times he made the screw spin again under his fierce
strokes, whenever his eyes fell on the wan faces of his young
companions stewing in the insufferable heat. He shortened the
journey by twenty-four hours, for on the afternoon of the fourth day
the woman, for the first time, showed signs of joy.
"Lift up your heads, O young lions," she cried; "let the light come
into your eyes, and the strength into your limbs, for we are at the
gates! You will catch the cool wind in your mouths. Your nostrils
will sniff the air of the hills; your feet will tread the open way;
your eyes will see the white clouds afar. Awake, my children, we are
at the gates."
They lifted their heads, throbbing with the touch of fever, and
before them they saw a sheet of clear water; beyond that a
glistening wall of rock, and following up higher and higher, they
saw the deep blue of the sky.
"We are out at last," said the hunter, in his deep tones. "Off with
the awning, Muata; let us breathe again."
The awning was thrown back, and the boys sat up, drawing in the air
in great gulps.
"This is but the beginning," said the woman. "A little further and
your eyes will rest on the gardens below and the hilltops above. You
will skip like the he-goat from rock to rock. You will shout and
rejoice. I know. I was young, too, and I also came through the dark
way."
"Where now, Muata?" asked the hunter.
"If the great one cares to leave the canoe, we could reach the top
to-night, and sleep far above the woods. None come here. The water
is 'taboo,' and the boat would be safe."
"Let us go up," urged Compton.
"Yes; up out of this stagnation," cried Venning, with a longing look
up.
Mr. Hume ran the boat in, and Muata leapt ashore. As his feet felt
the firm ground he raised one hand high and broke into a chant, the
woman joining in at intervals. As he chanted he stamped his feet on
the sand; and this song was of himself--of his deeds in the past, of
his triumphs in the future.
"Wow!" he said, when he had finished. "There were many days that
Muata thought never to look upon these walls again; many times, when
his heart was dark, when his blood was like water; and lo! he stands
against the walls of his home."
"Of his resting-place," corrected the woman. "His home lies beneath
the setting sun."
"I know how you feel, Muata. If I were to see again the cliffs of
old England, I would sing too."
"It must be like finding a new beetle," said Venning.
"We are not out of the woods yet," chimed in Mr. Hume, grimly, "so
just give your attention to our stores. We must carry up as much as
we can, for, 'taboo' or not 'taboo,' I do not like the idea of
leaving all our things here."
They made up in parcels as much of the stores as they could carry,
and the woman strode off first, erect and graceful, with the largest
parcel on her head. Venning followed, carrying only his carbine,
blanket, and bandolier; then Muata, with sixty pounds' weight on his
head, then Compton, and, last of all, Mr. Hume, with an ample load.
A fairly open path, over a lattice-work of roots, mounted up through
the trees, and the hunter "blazed" the path by chipping a slice of
bark off every fifth tree. Up and up the woman swung with free
strides, her short leather skirts, trimmed with beads, rattling as
she went; and after many a breather, for the sake of the whites, she
strode out, one thousand feet above the lake, on to a rock-strewn
slope, free of trees. A glance back showed the evening mist rolling
like a huge curtain over the sombre forest, so that they seemed to
be looking down upon a silent sea.
"A little more, my children--a little more, and you will sleep under
a roof."
She swung off, balancing the load easily, and the others followed in
and out among great rocks that had an unfamiliar look, bending their
bodies to the steep and labouring for breath; and as they went Mr.
Hume drew marks on the ground, as a guide, with the point of his
knife, for he trusted no man in the wilderness, except himself.
After another thousand feet of climbing, they entered into a gorge,
that narrowed at the summit to a mere cleft, and from that cleft
they stepped out on to a broad platform, which dominated a wide
valley rimmed with cliffs.
"Behold the Place of Rest, O white men; and ye, O great one, who
marked the trees below, and whose glance went ever back to note the
way so that you should know it again, know that we have led you to
the hiding, whose secret was our refuge."
"Ay, mother," said Mr. Hume, quietly, though surprised she had seen
his actions; "and remember that we are here to help you keep out the
wolf from your refuge. I marked the trail, as ye saw, for it is well
that a man should know his way out as well as in."
"He is right, O wise one," said Muata, bearing down his mother's
suspicious look. "Should Hassan prevail in the fight, there would be
no Muata to guide these our friends to safety."
"He prevail!" cried the woman, sternly; then her finger shot out,
and her form seemed to increase in stature. "Look, O warrior of
feeble words; see how it greets the chief;" and her eyes blazed as
she followed the flight of a great bird that swept out of the mist.
"A sign--a sign, my son."
"A black eagle," said Venning. "Maybe it has its nest somewhere
about here."
"As this is the Place of Rest," said Mr. Hume, "it would do us all
good to sit down. Where is the hut you spoke of, mother?"
"Shall I carry you, little one?" said the woman, with a loud laugh.
"A few steps only. A little way, and you can eat and sleep."
She passed to the right under shelter of a cliff, and came very
quickly to the door of a wide cave, that ran back some thirty feet.
"Here is your home, and in the morning the sun will look in at the
door, and from the threshold, when you awake, you may sit and feast
on such a sight as will gladden your eyes, for now the shadows hide
it."
They threw their packages on the floor and sat down on a carpet of
clean white sand.
"A little further there is water. Muata, my son, for the last time
do woman's work and light the fire, while I go below for food."
"Say nothing to the people of my coming," said the chief. "Presently
I will go down secretly, and see how the men bear themselves."
"Wow! I see now it is the chief, and not a carrier of wood."
She went off into the gathering gloom, but was back in the hour with
a great bunch of yellow bananas, a calabash of goats'-milk, and a
young kid, showing no signs of weariness for all her toil. Those
bananas, growing with an upward curve against the stem to relieve
the dead weight on the branch as they grew, were just then a finer
sight than the most magnificent scenery, and the travellers made a
great feast, which done, they stretched themselves out on the clean
dry sand up there in the clean, crisp air, and slept till the sun
next morning streamed into the open cave.
They woke up to find themselves alone, but not forgotten; for
outside there lay a little heap of good things, including fresh
eggs, a calabash of milk, sweet potatoes, and a bundle of firewood.
"By Jove!" cried Compton; "look at the view. Isn't it splendid?"
"Well, it won't vanish," said Mr. Hume, "so we'll have breakfast
first."
Further on along the ledge there was a little cascade, falling into
a bath-like opening evidently, from the signs, of human
construction, and here, in ice-cold water, they refreshed
themselves. After breakfast they were like new men. The keen air put
to flight the beginnings of malaria contracted in the noisome
atmosphere of the dark water-course they had last travelled, and
brought the sparkle into their eyes, and a smile to the lips.
"Now for the view--for a good long look at the Garden of Rest."
"Not yet. We'll first overhaul our rifles and stock of ammunition.
This is no picnic, you know. We may be fighting for our lives to-
morrow; so to work!"
Orders had to be obeyed, and the ammunition was sorted out--
providing 150 rounds for the Express, 250 rounds each for the three
carbines, and 175 rounds for the shot-gun.
"That is a short supply, boys. We must be careful not to throw away
a single shot; for, remember, we've got to go a long way before we
reach safety, even after this business of Hassan's is done. We must
try and do with fifty rounds apiece in this little affair."
"Little affair!" muttered Venning, remembering the flotilla of
canoes and the mob of fierce-looking cannibals.
"Big or little, we can't afford to indulge in reckless firing. One
bullet, one man, is my motto."
"But we cannot all shoot like you," grumbled Venning.
"A matter of habit," said the hunter, quietly. "All you have to do
is to get the advantage of position, and then it is no merit to
shoot straight. Drop three men out of a hundred, and you will stop
the remainder; drop thirty out of a thousand, and the same thing
happens. If there are only a hundred, and you have the upper ground,
let them come within two hundred yards; if the enemy is in great
numbers, open at five hundred yards; and anywhere down to fifty
yards according to his dwindling strength. Shoot straight every
time, and the plan answers like clockwork."
"Have you tried it?"
"Many times, but only in self-defence. Now we'll just examine our
position, for it is always good to have open a line of retreat."
They walked along the ledge to the mouth of the gorge up which they
had ascended, saw that the ledge ended there, then retraced their
steps past the cave and the bath to a spot where a break in the
ledge opened up a way down into the valley.
"Just take note of that path," said the hunter, "and follow it
down."
"What a beautiful spot!" said Compton.
"It does the eyes good to look on it," said Venning,
enthusiastically. "See how the sun shines on the broad leaves--
banana-leaves, I think--bordering the silver stream."
"Never mind the silver stream," broke in Mr. Hume, testily. "Fix
your attention on this path. Get it into your mind. See how it drops
down to that solitary palm."
"Now remember that if you are down there, and have to run, you are
to make for that palm, ascend here, and cut along to the gorge. Have
you got that fixed? Good. Now we will go back."
At last, with their feet dangling over the edge of the ledge before
the cave, they were at liberty to satisfy their longing to take
their fill of the beauty outspread before them. Perhaps it was by
contrast with the monotony of the forest that the scene below them
seemed to them all to be the most beautiful that had ever gladdened
the eyes of men. Imagine a valley about five miles in length,
narrowing at each end, and opening out about the centre to a width
of two miles, the sides of grass sloping up to a buttress of rock,
and rippling along the whole length into folds, with little valleys
in between--narrow at the summit, where they joined the rock-wall,
and wide at the base, where they opened out on the parent valley,
through which flowed a broad stream, fringed its whole length with a
border of pale green banana-leaves with stems of gold. In the little
valleys were gardens, showing up like a chessboard pattern in neat
patches of green, red, and brown, according to whether there was
ripening millet, young maize, or new-turned mould. Halfway down the
valley was a village of beehive-shaped huts, with an open space in
the centre, adorned with one fine tree, under whose spreading
branches they could see distinctly the forms of men. In the strong
white light every object could be easily picked out--goats browsing
among the rocks at the base of the cliffs; flocks of birds circling
above the gardens; fowls walking among the huts; tiny little black
forms toddling in the sun, and their mothers squatting with their
faces turned to the council tree.
"No women in the gardens," said Mr. Hume, "and that always means
war."
Venning readjusted his glasses. "There is something I can't quite
make out at the back of the village. Looks like men lying down."
Mr. Hume took the glasses and turned them on the spot. "Humph!" he
muttered, while his brow clouded. "They are dead men."
"Five," said Compton.
"Yes, five. Muata has been at work!"
"Muata? He was sitting here quietly eating last night."
"Maybe it was either he or they, and he happened to be first to
strike."
"It is awful!" muttered Venning.
The discovery destroyed their pleasure in the gentle beauty of the
scene below, and they fell to discussing Hassan's probable plan of
attack, arriving at the conclusion that the chances of success were
with him, when they contrasted his force with the small band of men
down below.
"While they are talking," said Compton, "Hassan will be seizing the
best positions. Why on earth don't they do something?"
"Perhaps they are at work already," said Mr. Hume. "There is a small
party coming down the valley from the left. Muata said something
about Hassan's determination to drown the people of the valley. He
could only flood the valley by damming the stream at its outlet,
which would lie to the left, and I guess those men have been seeing
to the defence."
"The leading man has plumes in his head. A chief, I suppose."
"It is the chief himself, Dick."
"So it is. I can make out his Ghoorka knife. Let's give him a
shout;" and the two sent a loud "coo-ee" ringing down the slope. The
sound reached the ears of the little band of warriors, for they
stood to look up; it also reached the people in the village with a
startling effect. The men jumped up from the ground, women snatched
up children and scuttled hither and thither like ants disturbed.
From the depths below a cry came up clear and crisp--the marvellous
voice of the native, trained through long centuries to speed a
message of war or peace, of victory or disaster, from hill to hill.
"Ohe! Ohe! my brothers, the chief awaits you."
"Does he?" said Mr. Hume, dryly. "Then he may wait until he sends up
a proper escort. Oh, here they come, I suppose," as half of Muata's
body-guard detached themselves and advanced towards the palm-tree.
"Shall we go down?" said Compton, rising.
"Sit still, my lad. No chief ever hurries; and, you understand, we
are all chiefs."
"Are we, though?"
"We take rank with Muata, if he is the head chief; not out of pride,
you understand, but out of policy. So just keep cool. Just look as
if you were a sixth-form boy approached by a deputation from the
kids. See?"
"I'll be as cool and haughty as a----"
"Freshman in a bun-shop," interposed Venning. "Me, too;" and he put
on a high and mighty look.
"Don't overdo it, my boy," said Mr. Hume, with a grave smile.
There were seven men coming up, and they breasted the slope in
single file at a walk which quickly got over the ground. On reaching
the ledge they advanced at a trot up to within a few feet, when they
suddenly halted, grounded their spears with a clang, and raised the
right hand with the fingers spread. They were fine lads, straight
of limb, supple and lithe, without, however, much show of muscle.
Their quick glances, with a certain quality of wildness in the eyes,
ranged over the three seated and silent whites.
"Greeting, O white men from out the forest, and the water beyond,
and the father of waters beyond that." The spokesman stepped
forward. "Greeting from the great black one, the river-wolf--he who
met the wild man of the woods alone; he who crept in at the gate and
slew the man-hunters; he the chief Muata. Greeting to the lion-
killer, the cleaver of heads, the maker of plans, who came out of
the mist in a shining boat. Greeting to the young lions who slew the
tree-lion."
"What is your word?"
"The great chief awaits at the war council."
"Go down and tell your chief we will descend when we have made war
medicine."
"Wow!" The spokesman fell back into the ranks. The seven warriors
stood for a time in silence; then, at a word from the spokesman,
they went through a salute, turned, and marched back in single file,
chanting a war song as they went, as an accompaniment to a dancing
stride.
"What is the war medicine we are to make, sir?"
"Just the remains of our breakfast and supper, with a dose of
quinine to finish up."
"And those chaps will be telling the people down below that we are
making strong medicine, warranted to kill Hassan at sight, and ward
off spears, bullets, mosquitoes, and Arab swords."
"Well, it will give them courage, if they think all that," said Mr.
Hume, coolly, as he inspected the rations.