THE FIGHT IN THE DEFILE
In the afternoon, having hidden away the reserve ammunition, they at
last went down to the war council assembled under the tree in the
village. Mindful of the instructions of Mr. Hume, the two boys were
quite self-possessed and incurious, though it was a great effort to
restrain expressions of surprise when they were face to face with
Muata.
If they were under the necessity to play a part, so in a greater
measure was he. The men about him were a mixed lot--of adventurers
who had been compelled to seek a harbourage from revengeful enemies,
of fugitives who had escaped from the slave gangs--and they were of
several tribes. Only a strong hand could keep them in order, and
Muata could not afford for a moment to sacrifice his authority. He
was master in that valley, or nothing. Hence he received the
greeting of his old white friends without a sign of cordiality.
His naturally fine face was hideous in war-paint, two lines of
yellow extending to his ears from the comers of his mouth, and
another black line running from the centre of the forehead down
between the eyes. Two long black feathers were secured in his head
circlet, and about his throat he wore a necklace made of the teeth
of the gorilla and the claws of a lion. His eyes were fierce and
bright, and the quivering of his nostrils showed also that he was
labouring under suppressed excitement. Mr. Hume recognized at once
that he was face to face with a crisis, and instinctively he
realized that it depended on him to save the situation, not only for
himself and his young companions, but for Muata also. His calm eyes
travelled over the ring of black faces behind the chief. He saw
there were two parties. On one side were the young warriors, men of
the chiefs age, who probably had been brought up in the valley; on
the other was a larger number of older men, whose lowering looks
told a tale of distrust and incipient revolt.
"Behold," he said, making up his mind to the role he would play, "we
are the chief's 'white men.' We have made strong medicine. Shall I
speak, O black bull of the forest?"
"Speak," said Muata, who had caught the hunter's eye when he
acknowledged himself to be the chief's white man.
"Thus says the medicine," said the hunter, in his deep tones. "There
are wolves on the way to eat up the people of this place."
"Eh--hum!" sneered the older men. "We know."
"We are ready for them," shouted the young warriors.
"Ye know--yes; but thus says my medicine--that you are not agreed
among yourselves."
"Er--hum!"
The hunter paused, and his strange eyes dwelt on the faces of the
old men so that they looked away.
"There are some among you who would make terms with the enemy. There
were some who had sent secret word to Hassan. Go ye a little way up
the slope and ye will see the bodies of some of those slain in their
treachery!"
"Wow!" The older men exchanged uneasy glances, and a woman's voice
rang out exultingly, "Ye speak the truth, O lion."
"Thus says my medicine. If ye do not stand together, the enemy will
enter at the gates, and not one will be left alive, for Hassan will
slay those whose hearts were with him as he will those who were
against him."
One of the older warriors interrupted, shooting a finger at Muata.
"Great one, give us the word that we may slay this dog who comes to
make trouble. Is this the counsel of a wise man on the coming of the
enemy?"
"What would you do with him?" asked Muata, suavely.
"Send him after those others;" and the man pointed up the hill.
"You stand alone in your words," said the chief, doubtfully.
The spokesman, with a look of fierce triumph, looked around.
"These also I speak for."
"Haw!" said the chief, slowly, running his eye over the old men.
"All men of wisdom! Do ye all hold with these words? Be not hasty.
Ye have heard the words of the white man. Think well before ye
speak."
"How do we know that he is not Hassan's man?" said the first
spokesman, fiercely. "He was summoned to the council when the sun
was young, and he has only now come. Who vouches for him?"
"I--Muata, the chief. Yet Muata does not give face to him or to you.
Ye have heard both sides. Think well and decide quickly, for the day
is passing, and we must be at the gates this night. First let me
know"--and the chief's voice was very mild--"do we agree in
resisting Hassan, or is it that we differ about the white men?"
"We will fight against Hassan," said the spokesman, quickly; "but
this white man has spoken evil words. We know him not; and if thus
early he begins to make mischief, what will happen when the fight is
fierce? Stand by me, friends, so that the chief may see our mind."
"Nay," said an older man, who had been watching the chiefs face--
"nay, let us talk the matter over."
But it was too late, and the spokesman stepped aside, drawing with
him a score of men.
"Is that all?" asked the chief, quietly, and his eyes ran keenly
over the faces of the other warriors. "I will consider, for it is
well that we should have no differences."
"Hark to the wisdom!" shouted the warriors.
"We must stand together," continued Muata, "or we fall. And I am
glad of this thing; it has shown our weakness." He stood a moment,
then, with a sudden glance back at his young men, he bounded
forward, and with one stroke of his terrible knife struck the leader
of the band to the ground. "Hold!" he roared, as the young men,
with a terrific shout, sprang forward. "Let a man move but a hand,
and he is dead."
There was one breathless moment, during which men stood with
upraised spears, their eyes glaring, their breasts heaving, and
their breath coming in quick gasps. A woman laughed and the tension
slackened.
"Back--back!" and before the fierce word of command the young
warriors drew off.
"One is enough," growled Muata, transformed, terrible in his fury,
and glaring at the small band who stood around the fallen body. "If
I thought that ye were in the counsels of this dog who lies there,
not one of ye would be spared. It was in his heart to betray us to
Hassan."
"We knew it not, great black one," muttered the men, humbly.
"If I thought ye knew," growled the chief, with a terrible look,
"there would be an end to you. See that ye carry yourselves well."
The three travellers had stood fast during this scene, and now
Muata, having wiped the blood from his knife, turned to them.
"It is the law," he said, as if in explanation. "Haw! when I
descended into the valley, in the night, I heard evil words spoken
round the fire. It was time to act, and as it was seen by your
medicine, the law was done."
"Ohe! the law was done," chanted the young warriors. "In the dark he
came--the great strong one--silently out of the woods, and in the
morning he smote."
"It is the law. If any of you feel a thorn in the foot, you cut it
out. Good; we are now whole."
"We are whole, O chief," cried all the warriors together. "Good;
then we will go up to the gateways to be ready. In three companies
we will go, and with each will so one of the chief's white men. Ye
have seen how strong is the white man's medicine. If any hold back,
the medicine will tell."
The chief divided the men into three equal numbers of about fifty
each, which left over some twenty-five of the older men who had
sided with the slain man.
"Ye," he said, addressing them, "will stay here with the women; and
if it chance that the enemy prevail, take the women and the flocks
to the foot of the rocks above, where the white men were. O
Inkosikase! (chieftainess)."
Muata's mother came forward, armed with spear, and behind her came
other women carrying bows and arrows.
"These men, O mother, will stay by the kraal. They have learnt
wisdom; but if they weaken, send a messenger to me."
"There will be no messenger needed, O son," said the woman, as she
eyed the cowed men. "So go forth to the battle, for your scouts upon
the heights call. They see the man-eaters and the women stealers."
Her long arm shot out, and every man stared to the far end of the
valley.
Muata gave a few sharp orders, and the first band of fifty young men
went off up the valley at a trot.
"O great one, you said the word that helped betwixt me and my men. I
go forward with the next band--do you follow with the others; so
that when Hassan presses us back, as he must, being the stronger,
you will let a part of his men pass through the gate; then stop the
rest, and we who ran will deal with those who got through."
"Is that your plan?"
"It is a good plan. When the leopard is caged his cunning goes. Your
men will know where to hide; I have overlooked the place."
"Good. The plan will be carried out."
"There is also a second plan;" and Muata fixed his eyes on Compton.
"Some men will be hidden within the valley, to fall upon those who
enter. I wish the young lion to remain with them."
"I should like that," said Compton, quietly.
"Very well, my lad," said Mr. Hume; "and I think Venning had better
go with you. I prefer it. And hark! if the plan fails, you know the
way to the boat. Shake hands."
They shook hands, and the two lads placed themselves beside Muata as
he went off with the second band. Mr. Hume, with the last company,
followed at a slower gait, along a path that skirted the river with
its fringe of banana trees, whose broad leaves shone in the sun.
After a couple of miles, the river entered the defile through which
long since it had cut its way out of the valley. It was at the
entrance to the defile that an ambush was formed by Muata of fifteen
men, with Compton and Venning. The warriors were already in position
behind fallen rocks, the two lads being higher up the slope. They
showed themselves as Mr. Hume came up, and waved their hats to him.
"Good luck!" they shouted, with a lump in their throats, for they
loved the "great one," and they feared the task allotted to him was
full of danger.
"Take cover," he said cheerily; "take good aim; and remember the
palm tree, if things go wrong."
"And remember," they cried, "that we want you back safe and sound."
"I'll take precious care of myself," he said with a smile, and
followed his men into the dark defile.
"I wish we were going with him," said Venning.
"The next best thing is to do our part as well as we can."
They stretched themselves out each behind a rock and waited.
"There is one thing," muttered Venning, after fidgeting about; "we
cannot wait long, for it will be dark within an hour."
"The sooner they come the better."
They watched the shadows creeping across the valley--already over
the river and halfway up the opposite slope; they watched the light
on the cliffs above; but, most of all, they watched the young
warriors crouching below them.
"They hear something," said Venning; and his finger curled round the
trigger.
"Keep cool, old chap. Remember, we don't fire until after these men
have given the sign. They are coming!"
Sure enough, they were coming. The crouching warriors were quivering
with excitement, as their gleaming eyes sought the mouth of the
defile, out of which came a confused murmur. From a murmur to a
hoarse rumble, then swiftly to the sound of fierce cries, the noise
grew, and then a man leapt into view, and after him a score, all
running as if for life. The plan was working, but was it not working
too thoroughly? Would those men in whom was the panic of flight be
able to stand? Muata came last, the long feathers streaming from his
head; and as he ran, he shouted at his flying men words of insult.
He cleared the defile, and at his heels there grew a fierce and
growing clamour. Then, like a pack of wolves on the heels of a deer,
the wild men of the woods burst into view. Close together they ran,
and when they saw the valley stretching green and peaceful before
them, they halted to drink in the sight. They feasted their eyes on
the gardens, on the little flocks of goats, on the huts, on the
women and children streaming up the slope on the right. Then they
shouted in their joy of the promise of blood, of loot, of feasting--
shouted and bounded forward. As they were in their stride once more,
a wild yell rang out of the defile--a yell of fear and warning, that
reached them, and that brought them up with a jerk. They faced round
impatiently towards the defile again, and, behold, the mouth was
held by a party of the enemy! But only a small party, less than half
their number. With a yell they charged, and then they halted, and
then they broke, and in a twinkling they had lost their cunning and
were themselves the fugitives; for at the first step two of their
leading men had fallen, and into the thick of them, from a distance
of a hundred yards, came an accurate and unexpected rifle-fire. A
trap! They shouted to each other, then broke streaming across the
river in a frantic search for hiding. In vain they fled, for the
valley seemed alive with men, Muata's band having scattered
purposely; while keen-eyed boys, standing in tree-tops, marked down
the fugitives, and shouted directions to the hunters. Even the
women, led by the chief's mother, came down to join in the pursuit.
This work was not to the taste of the two white boys. They had
played their part, and now they entered the defile to seek their
companion.
Compton went ahead into the shadows, following the river, and
thinking of nothing but the fight that they knew from the sounds was
raging somewhere before them. As he turned a corner made by a
projection in the wall, a dark hand seized him by the neck, and he
was on his back, with a roaring sound in his ears, and a feeling of
suffocation.
"What's the matter?" he gasped presently, when the grip on his
throat relaxed.
"Can you stand?"
"Yes, of course." Compton got up. "You look queer."
"Feel queer," said Venning. "Enough to make a chap queer to see you
go down like that with a big black on top of you."
"Where is he?" and Compton hunted for his rifle.
"Shot him; but, for all I knew, I might have shot you. He fell in
the river. Perhaps there are more of them hiding."
"You shot him?"
"Yes--go along; but for goodness' sake don't let another one jump on
you."
Compton gripped his friend's hand, then went on, very cautiously
this time, for a little way, until he heard the crack of the
Express, followed by the Hunter's bull voice calling on the men to
"stand fast." He dashed on.
"We are coming," yelled Venning, in a voice that sounded very
youthful; but keen ears heard the high treble, and to them it
brought comfort.
"The chiefs white men," was the cry that rose, that reached Mr. Hume
as he fought coolly, warily, in a crisis of the battle, knowing
that, if he gave back an inch, the men behind him would bolt, and
Hassan's horde would swarm into the valley.
"Hurrah, my brave lads!" he roared. "You there behind, meet the
white men and lead them up to the place where I first stood."
"Yebo Inkose! (yes, chief)" cried a Zulu of the Angoni.
Thus the chief's "white men" were met in the gorge by a dark figure
panting heavily, who led them through other dark forms, some lying
groaning, others silent--led them up to a ledge that overlooked the
enemy.
"What now?" asked Compton, looking at the Zulu, and in the better
light noticing the wounds on his head and left arm.
The Zulu pointed down. "Fire, O white men, between that tree and the
rock. There they are thickest."
The two rifles flashed out simultaneously.
"Hurrah!" roared the Hunter from below. "Give them the whole
magazine."
"Empty the magazines," said Venning between his teeth; and the Lee-
Metfords poured out a little rain of thin bullets into a space
between the tree and the rock.
"Yavuma!" cried the Zulu.
"Yavuma!" roared the Hunter. "Stand firm, my children!"
The Zulu knelt on the brink of the ledge and peered down into the
gloom, out of which came the shouts of the enemy, thrown into
confusion, when apparently all was going well with the attack. An
arrow struck on the rock, then another.
"The tree," he said, pointing into a great tree-top. "Let one chief
fire into the tree and the other at the white spot."
"I see the white spot," said Compton; and again he emptied his
magazine, while Venning riddled the tree-top, out of which at the
discharge men dropped in haste.
"Cease firing," came the command from below. "Now, my children,
forward once more. They run."
"They run!" shouted Muata's men, as they swept out from the defile
after Mr. Hume.
"At the white spot," said the Zulu, gripping Compton by the arm.
"Fire; ye will not hurt our men. There are men with guns where the
white is; and, see, others join them. Quick! Shoot, white men, or
they slay our friends."
A flame spurted out from the gloom down where the white specks
gathered, and the Lee-Metfords were not idle. The little bullets
rang into the place where those white-robed Arabs were waiting with
their rifles, and before they could play their part, the beaten van
of their assaulting party broke upon them in their flight. The
battle was over! Muata, returning from the killing of the men he had
decoyed into the valley, raised the shout of victory, and the two
boys went down into the gorge to join in the throng of exultant and
excited warriors.
"Way for the chief's white men!" cried the Angoni Zulu, staggering
from his hurts.
"Bayate! to the white men," shouted the warriors, rattling their
spears.
"We are no chiefs men," said Compton, proudly.
"Ohe!" said Muata, overhearing the words. "Lion's cub, I hear. Ye
shall have the chief's feather; and the great one, where is he?"
Out of the darkness beyond came the chant of deep voices--the song
of the men who had held the gate, "The great one," "Lion-throated,"
"He whose roar filled the valley," and so on, until they recognized
the form of their chief, when very wisely they directed their praise
to his deeds.
Mr. Hume, bare-armed, reeking of battle, hoarse from shouting,
stepped up and gripped hands with the boys.
"We go to our house on the hill, chief," he said.
"There will be feasting to-night, my brothers, and your places will
be beside the chief," said Muata.
"'Sot for us. Feast well; but watch well also, for Hassan has not
had his fill. Come, lads."
They left Muata giving directions for guarding the gate, and went
back through the gorge into the valley, and down towards the
village, where they were met by a band of women carrying torches and
singing. The women formed a ring about them, and in this the chiefs
mother danced, stamping her feet, and clapping her hands, while she
sang of the battle.
"We go up to the cave," said Mr. Hume, when the dance was over.
"Send us food, mother."
"In plenty, O shield of my son!"
"And hark to this, wise woman--see that the warriors drink
sparingly, for the wolf is most dangerous when he comes to the kraal
a second time secretly."
"Wow! That is my thought also; but men are foolish. If the horn is
filled, they would empty it without thought of the morrow. Ohe! you
will eat well;" and she issued orders to some women, who returned to
the village, and other orders to a couple of boys, who were only too
glad to lead the popular white men up to the cave, to light the
fires and bring water. And almost as soon as they were at the cave
the women arrived with meat, fruit, and milk.
The Hunter stretched himself at once on the blankets. "I am not so
young as I was," he explained.
"That won't do," said Venning, lighting the lamp. "You must not go
to sleep without having had your supper." He turned the light on.
"Why, you're wounded!"
"I dare say, lad. It was pretty hot down there at one time."
"Oh, you know this is not fair to us! I say, Dick, come here."
"What is it?" asked Compton, coming in from attending the fire.
"Mr. Hume has got himself wounded, and he never told us."
"Don't bother about me, lads; I'll be all right in the morning."
But they did bother about him--washed the blood from his face,
cleansed and treated a jagged wound on the skull and fomented a
swelling on the right wrist, and then insisted on his taking food.
"Now, you go to sleep," said Venning; "and in the morning, perhaps,
you'll tell us all about it."
They were very silent, until the Hunter fell into a deep sleep, when
they tiptoed out to the fire, and sat long into the night listening
to the noisy shouts of rejoicing that floated up from the village
below, where the fires gleamed brightly, too anxious themselves to
even discuss Mr. Hume's injuries. In the morning, however, when
they opened their drowsy eyes, they were gladdened by the sight of
the Hunter returning from the bath, with the drops still glistening
on his tawny beard.
"Now tell us," they said, when the breakfast was prepared, "all
about the fight."
"It is soon told. I let the enemy pass in pursuit of Muata, as
arranged, but when it came to our part in the plan--that of closing
the defile--we found the job tougher than we anticipated. Those
cannibals are hard fighters. They fell back as we unmasked our
ambush; but they rallied quickly, and delivered one assault upon
another. I tell you, we were at our last gasp when your arrival
decided the matter."
"You must have come to close quarters?"
Mr. Hume nodded his head. "I received the blow on the wrist guarding
my head from a club, and the cut on the head from a spear."
"And you used your knife?"
"I dare say I did my share," said the Hunter, who had held the
defile alone at one time, his staunchest supporter, the Angoni Zulu,
having fallen back exhausted.
For a trying spell his undaunted spirit had stood between the valley
and destruction, and the wild men went back to Hassan with a tale of
a terrible white man who had struck down their bravest with a great
blade.
"That Ghoorka knife," he said, "is a great weapon;" and with that
summing-up of the struggle in the gloom of the defile he lit his
pipe, and sat down to gaze upon the valley, so peaceful in
appearance, so charged with the everlasting tragedy of life. "If
those people were whites, or Arabs, they would now be following up
the enemy to crush him while he is disorganized. But being blacks,
they don't look further ahead than their noses, which were made
short for the purpose."
"Let us go down and offer to lead an expedition in pursuit," said
Compton.
"I guess not, Dick. They'd leave us to do all the fighting
ourselves; and there's no sense in that. What we have to think about
is how to get away."
"Surely there is no difficulty about that. We will go when it suits
us."
"I'm not so sure," said Mr. Hume, gravely.
"But Muata is our friend."
"Muata cannot do what he likes, and, if he could, you've got to
remember this--that Muata in the Okapi, dependent on us, is another
person to Muata the chief in his own kraal."
"I don't think he would be treacherous," said Venning.
"He need not go so far as that to upset our plans. Maybe he would
find it convenient to keep us here as his 'white men' until it suits
him to let us go. You see, he has got to think of himself as chief
and of his people first."
"I don't think he would treat us unfairly," said Compton, warmly,
"especially as they owe so much to us."
"That's nothing."
"But, sir, these people were kind to my father; and Muata stood by
us all along like a brick."
"Well," said Mr. Hume, lighting his pipe, "I always find it pays to
keep your powder dry and your eyes skinned. So whether Muata
continues friendly or not, be always on your guard."
Muata was friendly. He paid them a visit, and he proclaimed them
chiefs with full right to offer council at the Indabas under the
title of "The Old Lion," "The Young Lion," and "The Spider," the
last distinction falling to Venning, because of his fondness for the
pursuit of insects. Muata then dismissed his body-guard and joined
his newly appointed chiefs at the fire. He sat a long time silent,
his eyes bloodshot, his brows bent, and when he did speak, his words
veiled a hidden meaning.
"The place is yours," he said, "to go and to come, to eat and to
drink, to take and keep. Choose any place, and the people will build
huts for you."
"This cave is dry and comfortable. We want no huts, chief."
"It is well enough now, but in the rains it is not good."
"We shall be well on our way before the rains set in, chief."
"Wow! The Spider has seen how the ants live."
The Spider admitted that he had studied the ways of the ant.
"Good. There are strangers in the house of the ant."
"Oh yes; you mean what are called the 'cows' of the ants."
"Haw! That was the word given them by the white man who was here
before. They enter the house of the ant, but out of it never do they
pass."
"Is this, then, the house of the ant?" asked Mr. Hume, quietly.
The chief turned to the Hunter an impassive face. "My people can
build ye good huts, and there are many places thereunder near
running waters, with well-grown gardens. Choose which ye like, my
brothers."
"We will examine and select," said Mr. Hume, with assumed unconcern.
"And what of Hassan?"
The chief rose. "He will return like the badger to a bee-tree when
the bees have quieted down."
"And you wish to keep us to help you drive him from the honey again?
Is that it?"
The chief looked down upon the valley. "A child I came here, O
great one; a boy I herded goats among the hills; and while yet other
boys kept the birds off the grain, I went alone into the darkness of
the woods beyond to seek the man-hunters. Now they seek me. Ye have
helped in one great fight. All the time Muata has been at war--the
hunter and the hunted."
He turned his face again towards them, and there was in it a touch
of dignity. He broke into a kind of chant.
"Ye may hear the laughter of the little ones. There are no such at
the door of Muata's hut, for a man cannot take unto himself wives
and keep his arm strong to cast the spear, his eyes clear to follow
the trail, and his heart strong to face the dangers that come out of
the forest.
"Ye hear the voice of the young men and maidens singing in the
dance. Ye may see the mothers about their work, and the old men at
the fire. For them the cloud is past. They sit in the warmth of the
sun, and heed not the shadows that gather in the trees. The boy who
sits in the tree to frighten the birds from the grain has his turn
at the dance. But the chief, he watches always; for Muata there is
no rest in the Place of Rest."
"You are the first chief ever I heard take that weight upon his
shoulders," said Mr. Hume, with admiration he could not restrain.
"Why don't you resign?" said Compton.
"Haw!"
"Let some one else be chief."
Muata's nostrils quivered in disgust. "Wow! I am a chief, and the
son of a chief. Who is there to take my place?"
"But you were a long time away."
"Ohe! and, as ye have seen, men conspired to let Hassan and his man-
eaters in upon the valley. So my word to you, my brothers, is, to
choose ground for huts;" and the chief stalked away.
"I don't envy him his post," said Mr. Hume, looking after him; "but
I was right, you see."
"Well, when we want to go we will go," said Compton. "In the mean
time we will make the best of these quarters and this valley, which
is a good enough place for a holiday. And remember I have to find my
father's journal."
Leaving the Hunter at the cave, the Young Lion and the Spider went
off on an excursion, and, of course, turned their steps first of all
to the gorge, to see the place where the great stand had been made.
They were greeted by a small band of warriors, who were squatting on
the ledge from which they had fired, and who apparently were on
guard. They found themselves on the outer slope of the crater,
looking down once more on the interminable reaches of the forest,
with just a gleam of water showing at intervals to mark the course
of the river up which Hassan's flotilla of canoes had sailed after
leaving the wide lagoon. Descending from the ledge to the level of
the gorge, they saw the place where the Hunter had made his stand--a
little square of rock opening on to the wood path, up which the wild
men had rushed to the attack. This path, as they saw, was nothing
else than the dry cataract of a river, strewn with boulders, and
then they suddenly turned to each other with an exclamation at the
thought, "What had become of the river?"
"It's queer!" said Venning. "Where is the water?"
On looking around, they beard for the first time a peculiar
subterranean rumbling, and going back a few feet, saw the river
disappear in a smooth, green slide down into a wide fissure. They
stood looking down, fascinated at this mysterious, silent, and
stealthy disappearance of the waters that come with such a sparkle
out of the bright valley; then dropped stones down, and stooped
their heads in vain to catch even the slightest sound out of the
depths. The fissure was about twenty feet wide, with a sloping lip
on the near side, and a straight wall on the far or forest side. The
slope seemed to carry the water to the left, and with a desire to
discover its course, they tugged at a large post which stood against
the wall of the gorge and rolled it into the fissure. It whizzed
away down into the dark, and nearly dragged Compton after it, for
the sleeve of his coat caught on a projecting point, and he was
jerked on to his knees, being saved from further danger by the coat
tearing.
"Thanks," he said, looking a little white; "I am quite satisfied
that the water disappears."
"I rather think," said Venning, "that we have pulled up a gate-post.
See, there is one on the other side. A few tree-trunks thrown across
would make a fine barricade. Come on back into the valley."
They went back slowly, looking up at the dark walls of the rocky
gorge, and Venning stopped.
"See that rock up there?"
"Looks as if it would drop at any moment."
"Remember what Muata said about Hassan drowning out the valley."
"One of his figures of speech."
"S'pose that rock fell; it would just about fill up this passage,
river and all. And if it did not quite, a few men working from the
ledge, which you see would be behind the dam, could easily fill up
the cracks. Then the river could be dammed and the valley flooded."
"They'd have to blast the rock, and the task would be too
troublesome."
They returned slowly through the defile, stopping at the place where
the warrior had sprung out on Compton, and on reaching the valley,
went down among the rustling bananas and among the gardens, where
the women stopped their work to shout out merry greetings, and to
offer them earth-nuts, wild cherries, sweet cane from the maize
patches, and a thick porridge-like beverage made from the red
millet. They watched the little pickaninnies basking in the sun, and
as they strolled, rejoicing in the brightness and in the beauty of
this little island of rest, set within an ocean of trees, they were
followed by an admiring company of lads, each carrying his hurling-
stick. Coming to a little patch of reeds in the far corner of the
valley, the black boys, with shouts, gave chase to a long-tailed
finch, clothed in a beautiful waistcoat of orange. The two white
chiefs threw aside their dignity, and when, after a breathless
chase, the bird, hampered by its streaming tail-feathers, was
caught, each chief stuck a feather in his hatband. They worked round
the valley, seeing many strange birds and curious insects, back
towards the cave, arriving on the ledge at dusk. At once they opened
out on Mr. Hume with a description of where they had been and what
they had seen.
The Hunter listened patiently, but he was evidently preoccupied.
"We have seen all the valley, sir, and if we do have to stay here
longer than we thought, it is a consolation to think that it is a
jolly place."
"I have been away myself," said Mr. Hume, "and I made an unpleasant
discovery. At first I thought it best to keep it from you, but I
know you would not like that."
"No, sir."
"The boat has gone!"
"Gone!"
"Clean gone; stolen or hidden away. I went down shortly after you
had left, found the path by the marks I had made, never saw a living
soul or any spoor but our own; and I tell you it was a great shock
when I saw at the first glance that the boat was not there."
"I wonder----" began Venning.
"It is no good wondering," said the Hunter, testily. "Muata or his
mother has had a hand in this."
"We can soon put that right," said Compton, "by demanding that the
boat be produced within a certain time."
"That would mean war," said Mr. Hume. "I had thought of that, and
so no doubt has Muata. The odds are in his favour by force of
numbers, for he could starve us out in a week. Violence is no use.
Our best plan is to remain friendly, but watchful."
"Don't you think," said Venning, thoughtfully, "that we are on the
wrong scent? Suppose the boat was stolen by Hassan's men."
"It may be--it may be, lad; and yet, if Hassan's men did find the
boat, it seems to me they would have let it alone to disguise the
fact of their presence. Anyway, we will make a further search to-
morrow."
They had cause now for uneasiness, and the boys for the first time
began to entertain suspicions about Muata's faithfulness, for the
loss of the Okapi in the very thick of the forest meant to them what
marooning is to the sailor man. They sat discussing the matter long
into the night, and when morning came they looked out on the valley
with other feelings than before. It was to them a prison, lovely
still, but changed; and their eyes went to the spot where they had
seen the bodies of the men upon whom Muata had fulfilled the law as
he understood it, the terrible law of swift vengeance upon any who
opposed the will of the chief. There were armed men on their way to
the gorge from the village, and very soon, before the dew had dried
on the grass, and while the morning clouds hung white on the
hilltops, the chief himself came up with his headmen. And the reason
of his coming was none else than to make Mr. Hume vice-chief, with
full power, in his absence, over life and property in the valley;
for, said he, "I go upon the trail myself, and who should have
authority when I am gone but you, my friend?"
The headmen expressed themselves delighted.
"But," said the Hunter, troubled by this upset of his theory that
Muata would think only of himself, "our boat has been taken."
"The water there is taboo," said Muata, without showing any
surprise. "No one would go there but that one who may go. If the
boat is gone it will be returned at the appointed time. See, my
friend, I give you my seat under the council tree; have you also
trust in Muata, the lone hunter."
"Do you go alone?"
"Ay, alone with the silent one--he of the four legs;" and a faint
smile lit up the chiefs sombre and stern countenance, as he glanced
at the jackal now reappearing after good eating.
Mr. Hume went aside with Muata to dissuade him from his purpose, but
the chief was determined, having in his mind a plan to destroy
Hassan's canoes, as he had learnt from his spies that the Arab was
arranging for another attack. So while the Hunter went down to be
formally received by the clan, the two sub-chiefs, the Young Lion,
and the Spider, went off on a reconnaissance of their own to the
water that was "taboo," to all but one, as Muata had hinted. They
picked up the trail from the marks that Mr. Hume had renewed on his
last trip, and arrived on the banks of the unruffled pool. By
contrast with the open valley bathed in sunshine, this sheet of
water at the foot of the perpendicular cliffs was gloomy and creepy.
There was, too, a mystery about it, for it had no visible source.
There was no ripple on its smooth surface, no trace of a current,
except in the centre, where, from time to time, bubbles appeared and
disappeared, leaving just a trace of foam. They tossed pebbles in to
judge the depth from the sound which ranged from the "splash" of the
shallows to the gurgling "plop" of the deeps, and followed the
pebbles with rocks, till at last the sluggish pool was stirred and
furrowed with waves. And in the very midst of their sport a black
hand appeared above the waters, and with a heavy roll the body
itself floated before them, dead and stark.
The boys stood with their hands arrested, staring at this startling
apparition.
Slowly it drifted away, the strong white teeth set in a grin, a dark
oily stain trailing from numerous wounds on the body and limbs.
"It's a cannibal," said Compton, in a whisper.
"How did he come to be here?" muttered Venning, with a fearful
glance around.
They stepped back to the shelter of a tree, and listened, for if one
cannibal had found his way to the pool, it was pretty certain that
others had. But there was no sound down in those shaded depths. The
little waves on the pool quieted down, the surface recovered its
glassy smoothness, the bubbles reappeared in the centre, and broke
with a faint noise audible yet in the stillness. The pool had
yielded up one of its secrets, and the poor body was now come to the
end of its voyage, anchored apparently against a log of wood which
had grounded against the bank.
"We can't leave it there!"
"No, Dick."
But the sudden, unexpected, ghastly upheaval from the deep of that
stark body had naturally badly shaken them, and they stood where
they were in nervous expectation of some other horror. If this place
was "taboo" except to one yet unknown to them, it might be that
solitary priest or priestess of the pool was now watching them, even
if there were no other cannibals near at hand. So they lingered yet
a little longer behind their tree, advancing a foot again and again,
only to withdraw it at some fancied noise.
At last Compton stepped out with his carbine at the ready, stood on
the shore a moment then went on till he was opposite the dead man.
There Vending joined him.
There was a movement in the water among some reeds, then a ripple
like that made by a heavy fish, and the body, leaving its moorings,
went slowly away.
"Crocodile," muttered Venning, whose nerves had never quite
recovered the shock caused the night the lion charged.
Compton frowned and shook his head.
The dark body went straight on, stopped a spell at a cluster of
reeds, then moved on across, moved by some volition not its own, and
not due to the current.
"It's very queer, Venning."
"It's horrible."
Compton's glance came back from the gruesome spectacle to the log,
and with a start of surprise he stooped down to pick up something.
As he did so, Venning, with a yell of terror, gripped him by the
shoulder. Looking up and across, Compton saw the dead man stand
erect in the water, his head and shoulders above the surface, and
his face towards them! He felt the moisture break out on his brow
when the horrid thing began to advance without movement of its own.
Venning pointed a finger across. "It's coming," he gasped, turned
and ran; and Compton felt no shame in running after.
They flew from the dark pool and its nameless horror; but when from
the height they paused breathless and gasping to look down, there
was no stain, or blot, or ripple on its calm face.
"Ugh!" said Compton, "it looks what it is--' Deadman's Pool.'"
Venning shuddered, turned his back upon the sheer drop with the
still water at its bottom, and did not stop again until he had the
peaceful valley at his feet, when he took off his hat.
"Thank goodness, we came out with our wits whole."
"It was a trick," muttered Compton, abstractedly.
"But who could play a trick like that?" asked Venning, in trembling
excitement. "No human being!"
Compton put his hand on the other's shoulder. "We've both had a rare
fright, old man, but neither you nor I will let a thing like that
upset our appetite. Mr. Hume promised us a treat in green mealies
for tea, and I smell some strange dish."
"Hulloa, lads, I was just thinking of starting out after you. Seen
anything?"
"We've had a scare," said Compton, lightly, with a meaning look at
Mr. Hume; but already the observant eyes of the Hunter had seen that
Venning was upset.
"All right; just try this roast mealie;" and the strong hand
steadied the boy to his seat.
Mr. Hume talked, while they ate, about the ceremony of his
initiation as vice-chief and of the long, wordy arguments he had
listened to in a case at law concerning the ownership of a monkey,
to which there were two claimants, the boy who had caught it, and
the man who owned the garden where it had been caught.
"Now," he said, when they had eaten, "you have something to tell me.
Go ahead."
They related the incident, which lost nothing of its repulsiveness
by the relation:
"And you saw no one."
"No one alive, but I believe there was trickery. There must have
been," said Compton, with knit brows.
"I think so too, but the trick was horrible enough to produce the
effect desired. I must say I felt a creepy sensation when I was down
there yesterday."
"But we saw no one," said Venning, with a shudder.
"By Jove! I forgot this;" and Compton produced a fragment of cloth.
"I took that from a post in the pool."
"A bit of rag," said the Hunter.
"Yes; but a bit torn out of my sleeve yesterday over there in the
defile."
Venning snatched at it. "I have it," he shouted.
"I see you have; but you need not yell."
"The blind river! It comes out under the pool!"
Compton stared.
"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Hume.
"Why, sir, we dropped a tree stump into the opening which swallows
the river over there. As it slipped from our hands, it caught Dick's
sleeve, tearing out the bit of cloth, and nearly taking him down
too."
"Well, what then?"
"Why, the stump turns up in the pool a thousand feet below, and so
must the river! You see, after entering the fissure, it twists back
underground, to emerge down there at the bottom of the cliff."
"Of course," said Compton, eagerly; "and that body must have
followed the same course."
"Exactly."
"That accounts for the appearance of the pool and of the dead man,
but it does not explain the trickery."
"Perhaps it does," said Venning, who, now that he saw a cause for
things, recovered his nerve and his spirit. "There is a subterranean
passage. The formation here is volcanic. The valley is an extinct
crater, the hills are the walls. Well, in volcanic formations,
there are usually enormous caverns. Now, then, how do we know that
the Okapi has not been taken into one of those caverns opening on to
the pool?"
"Good; go on to the trickery."
"The person who hid the boat, if it is hidden, would probably be on
the watch to scare off any who tried to find out what had become of
it. Well, then, if we admit that, it is easy to admit the rest--
that a good swimmer could play the trick played on us."
"Let me find him," said Compton, angrily.
"Yes--yes," muttered Mr. Hume; "there's a lot in that, and we'll
follow it up, but not without a good plan."
He filled his pipe, and stared into the fire for some time.
"Clearly," he said, "what we should do first is to find out if any
one leaves the valley for the pool. As far as we know, there is the
gorge up which we came, but there may be openings direct from the
valley into the underground passages. We will leave the pool alone,
as if we had had enough of it, and examine the interior cliffs."