LETTING IN THE RIVER
The river was no longer thundering through the underground passage,
and as the sudden silence following the stopping of engines on a
passenger steamer will awaken every sleeper even more quickly than
the roaring of a gale, so this lull in the tremendous din aroused
Venning.
"What is the matter?" he asked, starting up.
"The river has stopped."
They sat straining their ears for the swift roar of the waters, but
out of the slumbering depths below there came only the regular
splash and tinkle of the falling drops.
"I don't understand it," muttered the Hunter.
"I do," said Venning, with a shout. "Hassan has blocked up the mouth
of the canon."
"Nonsense, boy; how could he?"
"Look out of the loophole."
Mr. Hume put his face to the hole. "The water has risen, I think,
from the noise."
"You remember what Muata said about the drowning of the valley?
Well, that is what is happening. The Arab has blocked the mouth by
blasting a mass of rock which overhung the river. That's what!"
They pondered over this new phase.
"If we had food, this would be the safest place, after all, then."
"Food, Dick, and a way out."
"Dick, of course. Anyhow, sir, it is a relief to have silence; the
noise made my head throb so, I did not know what I was doing."
Before, they had to shout into each other's ears, now they spoke in
low tones, but even so the echoes seemed to people the dark with
whispers, and they desisted from talk. In the silence they heard
presently the swirl and lapping of waters out in the canon, then the
sound of men talking, and, what was strange, a noise as of paddles,
These outside sounds were muffled and indistinct, but as the night
went on they heard a laugh ring out from below, loud and shrill,
followed by a confused murmuring, which quickly gained distinctness
in the form of a wild chant. The denizens of the underground world
were on the move. Looking down over the parapet they saw a spurt of
flame, and as the fire made for itself a ring of red light far down
in the dark, they could make out dimly the forms of people sitting
round in a circle. Then the smell of smoke reached them, and, after
an interval, the strong odour of burning flesh.
"Go to sleep, lad," said Mr. Hume; "they will not disturb us. They
have other prey, found, perhaps, on the scene of the fight in the
gorge."
Venning shuddered, and sought his mat, while the Hunter continued to
look down on the unholy feast in the bowels of the earth, with an
itch to send a bullet smashing into the midst of the circle.
"Come and rest," said Venning. "Don't you ever feel tired?"
"Tired enough, lad; but I don't like this news about the river
rising;" and ha went to the loophole.
"We're safe enough, sir--safe enough for to-night. There are six
miles at the back of the dam, and it would take a lot of water to
rise a foot an hour in the canon, and we are more than thirty feet
above the normal level, I dare say. Do rest."
Mr. Hume sat down, and closed his eyes, but when he heard the
regular breathing of the tired boy, he was up again. It was the
thought of Dick that filled him with sleepless anxiety, and he leant
on the parapet, fuming over plans in his mind with wearying
reiteration. He was staring straight before him, when a light
appeared on his own level, accompanied by the ring of metal on rock.
Instinctively his rifle was levelled, and, with his finger on the
trigger, he sighted a foot below the light, which was now quite
stationary, but, obedient to a sudden overmastering impulse, he as
quickly lowered the rifle.
A moment the light remained fixed; then it was raised, lowered, and
moved from side to side as if the holder were examining the ground;
then it advanced.
"Stop!" thundered Mr. Hume. "Stand back. There is a chasm at your
feet."
He had suddenly remembered the platform on which he and Venning had
emerged on their first attempt after leaving the Cave of Skulls, and
somehow he felt that the person who held that light had strayed to
that very place in ignorance.
He heard a startled exclamation, saw the light fall from the
person's band, and marked its swift descent, before the flame was
extinguished by the rush of air; then it was his turn to fall back.
"Who are you?"
"It's Dick," shouted Venning, with a sob in his voice.
"Dick," muttered the Hunter, cold to the heart at the thought of the
falling light.
"Hurrah!" There was no mistaking that shout. "Where are you? How can
I get to you?"
"For God's sake, don't move!" cried the Hunter, in a shaken voice.
"Stay where you are. We'll join you."
From below there came a shrill clamour, but the Hunter, never
pausing to give the creatures a thought, lifted Venning in his arms
and felt his way to the cave, clambered up through the hole, found
the other exit hidden by the mat, and crept down the broken passage
beyond. In a turn of the passage they saw Compton's face peering out
under a lighted candle, the one visible object in the darkness, set
in a strained expression, in which were blended joy, anxiety, and
wonder.
They gripped hands in silence, then--
"We've found the boat," said Venning.
"What is that noise down below?" asked Dick.
"Have you got any food?" This from Mr. Hume.
"A sackful."
"Then let us eat first of all."
They sat down there and then and ate, and when they had eaten they
were silent, because the creatures below were silent too, and Mr.
Hume knew that then they were dangerous. He went back to stand
behind the mat knife in hand, ready to attack, for now that he had
got his two boys back, he said to himself grimly that he would stand
no nonsense. Back in that dark passage Dick sat with his friend's
head on his shoulder, and one limp hand grasped in his, marvelling
much at the mystery of the place and at the providential meeting. He
had cause to wonder how Venning had borne the horrors of the
underground as well as he had, for towards the morning it seemed as
if those ghouls of darkness vied with each other in producing the
most appalling shrieks, howls, and bursts of mirthless laughter.
They played ventriloquial tricks in the passages and caverns, making
the sounds come from different points after varying intervals of
silence; and all the time, as could be gathered from occasional
words in the incoherent gabble, uttering threats against the white
men.
Then, at the very break of dawn, after a couple of hours of silence,
the plot they had formed was put into shape.
"Ngonyama!"
Mr. Hume stepped out on to the platform. "Who calls?"
"It is I, the Inkosikase."
She was standing at the very parapet where he himself had leant when
he saw the light borne by Dick on the spot where he now stood. She
stood up boldly on the canon side of the great cavity, about fifty
yards away.
"Your life was forfeit, Ngonyama, but I spared you--I spared you."
"I hear."
"You are but a mouse in these earth runs, Indhlovu."
The Hunter laughed, and the unseen creatures took up the laugh,
flinging it back till the hollow places rang with the wild noise.
"Hear, and take heed. Take heed lest they fall on you. Wow! Ye have
seen my power and the strength of my medicine in the stilling of the
waters."
"It was Hassan who stilled the waters. Say on."
"Yoh!" The woman paused, taken aback. "See, my medicine tells me you
came here to search for the shining canoe. Maybe I can tell you
where it is hid by the wizards."
"I know, wise woman. Say on."
"Wow! But," she said triumphantly, "ye do not know the way out, and
ye are helpless till I tell you."
"I know."
"Then why do you stay here?"
"Enough! I know the way out. What is your message to me?"
His confidence staggered her, and it was some moments before she
could speak.
"But there is the young chief. Ye would save him. I will make a
bargain with you for his life."
"He is here, woman."
Dick stepped out from the shadows, and she threw up her arms with a
wail.
"Say what you have to say," said Mr. Hume, sternly, "for I see you
would have some service of me, and had hoped to buy me with news I
have no want for."
"Ngonyama, great white one, I am but a woman, and ye are too strong
for me."
Mr. Hume nodded.
"I am a woman; only a woman."
"Was it a woman's task to set those ravens upon me and the young
chief?"
"I am a mother, Indhlovu, and a mother's heart is strong for her
child. I feared you because of my son. You were strong, and he
trusted you. He was away, and you were left to do as you wished--to
take his place, to destroy him. It is the way of men to use power
for themselves."
"It is not my way."
"O great white one, give me counsel. The Arab thief has truly
stopped the river, and the waters rise in the valley--rise among the
gardens; and when Muata returns he will see water where there was
grass."
"Ay, Muata will ask how this thing happened. And they will answer,
because a woman interfered with his plans. The son will know that it
was his mother who brought this evil on the place because she
thought she could do better than Ngonyama."
"It is true; it is true," she wailed, beating her breast. "So tell
me, great one, how this evil may be put right, but it must be done
quickly, for the Arab has brought canoes up, and his men are in the
valley ready to seize the women and children."
This was startling news indeed. "Canoes in the valley?"
"In the valley itself; and our men are scattered here and there on
the ridges at the mercy of these wolves, though they fight hard.
Ngonyama, tell me!"
"There is only one thing to do," said Venning, joining in.
"I listen," she cried, leaning forward. "Quick, wise one. You who
played with the little ones at the huts, you who talk to the ants,
tell me."
"The one thing to do is to let the water in."
"Ye mock me," she cried fiercely.
"Let in the water, and the canoes will be dashed to pieces; the
women and the little ones saved." "But how can this be done?"
"You know this place and the secrets of it. Those holes behind you
that look out on the valley were made by hands. Is there no place
where the wall is thin?"
The woman lifted up her hands and shouted a cry of exultation, then
she ran swiftly, and they saw her presently standing above the V-
shaped wedge in the wall, a deep scar in the cliff made by the fall
of a portion of the rock. With wonderful agility she climbed down to
the apex and set to work on the face of the rock with a kind of
maniacal fury. When she climbed out to the top they saw she had
drawn a square, with a mark at each corner plainly visible.
"Ngonyama, for the sake of the little ones and the women, for your
own sakes, if ye wish to live, send a bullet to each mark."
"By Jove!" said Venning, "that's a good notion. The rock must be
thin there, and the force of the bullet should crack it."
"Quick, white one. I can hear the death-song of our warriors. Quick,
if ye would see the sun again."
Mr. Hume raised his Express. He saw the need as well as she for
swift measures, and he planted each smashing shot on the little
white mark at each corner of the square.
The square was starred with cracks from side to side, and before the
echoes of the reports had ceased to roll and rumble through the
vaults, there was a dark stain on the rock.
The water was coming through, but the woman, in her mad impatience,
could not bear the delay. Clambering down, she worked feverishly at
the cracks with a spear-head, and with a sharp hiss a stream of
water like steam shot out.
"Climb up," roared Mr. Hume.
"Another thrust, Indhlovu, and a woman will have won. One blow for
the sake of my child--the chief." Her long sinewy arm flew back, and
she drove the spear-head into the crack.
Then came a tremendous report. The block of loosened stone flew out
as if propelled from a big gun, whizzed far out, and after it, with
a deafening roar, flashed a white column, that widened as it leapt
forward. Spreading his arms, the Hunter threw himself back, bearing
his companions with him, as a mass of water struck the platform on
which they had stood. As the flood poured through the opening,
tearing and screaming like a thousand furies, other fragments of
rock were torn out and sent whirling down, to increase the terrible
din rising up from the cauldron below, where the waters once again
rushed and boiled through the dark tunnels, after their terrific
leap. The whole upper space of the great vault was filled with a
mist, which condensed and fell in a fine rain upon the three
crouching figures, deafened by the uproar, and expecting every
moment to be involved in one complete break-up of the interior walls
under the smashing blows of the flood. As they crawled back into the
passage for safety, some solid object crashed against the rock near
them, and the broken blade of a canoe paddle shot past them into the
passage.
It was sign of the terrible fate that must have overtaken those of
Hassan's men who had entered the valley by canoe. It served as a
spur to urge them to escape.
They crept into the Cave of Skulls, and there finding some relief
from the uproar, Mr. Hume asked Compton if he knew the way out.
Compton nodded, lit the last of his candles, and, guided by marks he
had made on the wall, led the way out and down to a spot where he
pointed to a hole several feet above the ground. They passed through
that, and after a long and wearying march--during the last part of
which the Hunter again carried Venning--they crawled out into the
old cave, and through that on to the ledge overlooking the valley.
A glance took in the position. Muata's people were gathered on the
tableland where stood the new village, watching the sinking of the
river, as unaccountable to them as had been the swift rising in the
night that had cut them off and marked them out as easy victims to
the men in the canoes, which Hassan, in his great cunning, had
brought up to complete his plan for the complete destruction of the
community. Of Hassan's men, and the canoes, carried up through the
forest with so much labour, there was no trace. Men and canoes must
have been sucked into the canon, dashed to pieces, and swept down
into the dark, probably to emerge in the Deadman's Pool.
Mr. Hume gave a hail to the people below. "Bayate!" they shouted,
recognizing him. Some of the men swam across and came up.
They made a humble salute to the white men. "Great ones, the people
are afraid. The earth shook and the water arose, and out of the dark
came men in canoes. We were afraid. It was witchcraft. Again the
earth shook, the waters sank, and the canoes were swept away."
"Say to the women they may go about their work in peace, for the
white chiefs keep watch, and all is well. And say to the headman to
send up food, fruit, milk, and the flesh of a kid."
These orders were promptly obeyed, and the three were soon busy at a
good meal, that put life and strength into them, so that when they
feasted their eyes upon the wonderful beauty of-the garden-valley,
the horrors of the underground world swiftly faded into the
background, phantoms of reality.
And while they rested in the afternoon, Muata came out of the gorge
chanting his song of triumph at the head of the picked warriors who
had gone down into the forest to hang on the trail of the wild men.
His song died away as his eye fell upon the still swollen river, on
the sheen of pools gathered where the ground was flat, on the banks
of debris showing the highwater mark far up the little side valleys.
"Greeting, Ngonyama!"
"And to you, chief."
"My brothers have not slept." The young chief's eagle-glance dwelt
swiftly on the three friends. "They have looked on great trouble."
"You have come from victory, chief; your men are fresh."
"Ohe! they are fresh, for the fight was short."
"Then send some of them up the cliff on the other side, so that they
may overlook the place where the river goes under."
Muata looked down into the valley again, and asked the question
which he had been burning to ask all the time, but could not for
fear of showing anxiety.
"So Hassan has tried to drown out the valley?"
"The river rose and the river fell! While he sent some men to attack
the gorge, he found the river-gate unguarded, and seized it, blocked
the course of the river with a great rock loosened from above, and
then, as the water rose, lowered canoes on the inside, and sent his
men forward to eat up your village."
"Where was Ngonyama when the gates were unguarded?"
"In the caverns under the cliff."
"Wow!"
"The wise woman led us there. She left us there, fearing I,
Ngonyama, would supplant you, her son; and on the second morning,
when she found that Hassan was too cunning, she came with an offer
of liberty if we would destroy his plan. We told her the way. It was
to let the water in."
"It was a good plan. Haw!"
"She let the water in to save the people of the valley, and Hassan's
men were lost utterly; but the first victim was your mother, Muata."
"It was a good death," said Muata, after a long pause.
"Ay, it was a good death, chief. Now send your men up the cliff, so
that they overlook the river-gates."
"I will see to it, Ngonyama;" and Muata went down with his band to
the village once again, chanting the deep-chested song of victory.
The jackal, who had accompanied Muata on the new trail, remained
with his white friends. He was thin, he was famished, and he sat
with his left front paw lifted. Venning, who had a fellow-feeling
for one in distress, being himself worn out, took the paw,
discovered a nasty cut on the pad, washed it out with warm water,
treated it with carbolic, bound it up, and gave the animal the pot
to dean, which he did, polishing it out with his long red tongue.
The boy and the jackal stretched themselves on a kaross to the sun,
while Mr. Hume and Compton went away off to make sure about the
Okapi; for, as they said, they were in no mind to lose the boat,
after all their exertions, just because they were a little tired.
In the drowsy noon the tired boy slept, and through the afternoon,
opening his eyes for a moment occasionally as the voices of the
women rose to a higher pitch in a mournful dirge they were singing
over the missing, and at intervals the jackal would raise his sharp
muzzle and sniff the air. There was some note in the dirge that
disturbed the boy, and there was some taint in the air that made the
jackal uneasy. Once it stood up as if to explore, but the sight of
its bandaged foot brought a pucker to his brows, and it curled
itself up again after an intent look into the face of his human
companion.
For the rest of the day the dirge went on, rising and sinking like
the murmur of the sea in its flow and ebb on a still day. At dusk
the two came back from their long march to the Deadman's Pool,
bringing the report that they had recovered the missing boat, and
concealed it in a place of their own choosing this time. Venning
awoke to hear the news, but he heard it without enthusiasm, just as
they had imparted the news in tones of weary indifference.
The sickness of the forest was on them all--its monotony, its
vastness, and its brooding silence--and it caught them when they
were most liable to the attack; that is, when they were tired out,
with all the spring gone from mind and sinews.
"My poor father!" muttered Compton, as he sat down with his back to
the rock. "No wonder he looked upon this as a prison, placed as it
is in this wilderness of trees."
Mr. Hume nodded, and sat with his arms resting on his knees,
smoking, and staring at nothing.
Muata joined them, but his coming did not rouse them.
"I have looked down on the gates, Ngonyama. As you said, the river
was blocked by Hassan; but there is no sign of the thief, only some
canoes dropped by his men in their flight."
He sat down and smoked, too, with the same listless look on his
face.
The jackal rose at his master's coming, and stood whining and
sniffing the air.
No one took any notice of him but Venning, who coaxed him to him,
and placed an arm round his yellow neck.
"Why don't they sing something else?" said Compton, irritably, as
the mournful wail dinned its misery into his ears.
Muata looked at the white men. "It is the rains," he said.
"Eh?"
"The rains are coming. Maybe that is why Hassan struck so soon, for
when the rains come, every warrior is like the bow-string that has
been soaked in water. They hide the sun, they breed chills and
sickness. I can feel the breath of them in my bones. It is the
rains."
He shivered, and threw a stick on the fire. "In the morning," he
said, "we must find a new home, for the rains blow in at the mouth
of this cave. The clouds hang low on the hills."
"We have found our boat, chief; we will go on our way," said the
Hunter, bluntly.
"That way would be the way of death," answered the chief, slowly.
"It is bad here, but in the woods it is like the spray blown off
from the rushing waters. Every tree is a rain-cloud, every leaf
drops water, and the air you breathe in the woods is wet. If you
would live, great one, you must stay here. Wet when you sleep, when
you eat, when you sit you sit in wet, when you stand the water runs
off; wet, all wet in the rains down in the woods."
"Ugh!" said Venning, with a shudder; and Compton put on another
stick.
"We will see," said the Hunter.
They sat in silence, pondering over this new source of worry, then
turned in to sleep. They slept heavily, having taken great care
first of all to block up the entrance to the underground passage,
and as they dropped off to sleep, they heard the women chanting
still in the village below. The fire glowed red in the entrance,
making the roof look like beaten gold, but the air blew chill, and
the sleepers were restless. A hand would reach out to the firewood
for another log, or to tuck the blankets under the body, so that the
cold could not sift under.
The jackal was as weary as the rest. Several times he ran to the
entrance to look out with pricked ears, then back again to stare
into a sleepy face; but as his human companions gradually sank into
heavy sleep, he crouched on the floor with his sharp nose resting
between his forepaws, the one sound, the other bandaged.