THE CRY IN THE NIGHT
As the fire-sticks snapped under the heat, the jackal would open his
yellow eyes and start back with his gaze fixed inquiringly on the
fire, whose mystery he could never solve. One of these starts roused
Venning, who, seeing the cause, threw out a hand and drew the animal
to him. He felt nervous, and the company of the jackal comforted
him, and the jackal in its turn forgot its uneasiness in the warmth
of the blankets. With a little sigh it curled up and went to sleep.
The boy was the only one awake, and out in the wide space beyond he
heard a voice calling--
"Ngonyama'"
He held his breath, and his throat grew very dry, for it was the
voice he had heard in the cavern, only sad this time, and not
mocking as before.
"Ngonyama!--yama!" It came thin and melancholy, with a long
lingering on the last syllables.
He put his hand out to rouse Mr. Hume, then drew it back ashamed of
his fancies; but the movement awoke the jackal. It lifted its head,
snuffed the air, then sprang up with the ruff on its neck erect, and
its sharp white teeth gleaming. Several moments it stood so, then
with many a look out, curled itself up again.
Venning had watched it breathlessly, now he patted it to sleep, and
dozed off himself, only to wake up in a violent tremble, with that
sound quivering plaintively in the air--
"Ngonyama! Ngonyama!"
He brushed his hand across his forehead, and found his face burning
hot. He removed his blanket from his shoulders and sat up, still
patting the jackal. The fire was before him, and the dark ring of
the cave's mouth; but his eyes dilated as he looked, for within the
glare of the fire was that same awful face he had seen down in the
darkness.
He would have cried out, but his voice would not come; and with an
effort--for all the blood seemed to have left his limbs--he slowly
moved his hand to Mr. Hume's.
The Hunter made no sign; but Venning, with his face turned still in
a frozen stare towards the entrance, caught a change in the
breathing, and knew that his touch had answered its purpose. To the
boy they were acting over the scene in the cavern again. He was
waiting for the shrill laugh, the sudden treacherous thrust of steel
in the dark, and then the ring of metal on the rocks.
Then, without any sign having been given that he was awake, the
jackal in a bound was over the fire, swollen to double his size by
the bristling hair, and uttering as he charged a fierce yelp.
Muata seemed to awake and spring forward all in one movement. A
moment he paused in the glare of the light, stooping forward, the
glare showing red on his blade, and the next he was gone with a war-
whoop, and in his place stood the Hunter, crouching also with the
broad blade in his hand. Between the fierce yelp of the jackal and
the spring of the Hunter only a few seconds had passed. The three of
them less than half a minute since had been asleep; and now, out of
the darkness on the ledge beyond came the ring of metal and the
savage grunts of men fighting for their lives.
Venning remained where he was, too ill to rise; and Compton, not yet
trained to act on a sudden emergency, sat up, bewildered by the
noise.
"Mr. Hume--Godfrey--what is it?"
"The witches," said Venning, "out of the underground. I saw one
looking in."
"Eh?"
Compton felt for his carbine, and, gathering his wits, ran out,
receiving promptly, on getting within the ring of light, a blow on
his arm, followed by a clutch at his throat. Driving the muzzle of
his gun forward into something soft which emitted a grunt, he freed
himself from his assailant, and sprang aside. He heard the whizz of
weapons, the clash of blows, and saw dark forms indistinctly moving
rapidly this way and that; then his rifle flashed as he saw a
crouching form stealing upon him.
"Yavuma!" cried the Hunter's voice, giving the Kaffir war-cry as he
swung his terrible weapon at a foe.
"Yavuma '" cried Muata, with the jackal snarling by his side. "Fire,
little great one, into the thick."
It was very well to say fire, but Compton could not tell friend from
foe until, bending low, he made out that while two men had their
backs to the cliff there were others around them in an enclosing
ring. Judging these were the enemy, though he could make out no
distinguishing point, he went down on his knee and fired rapidly.
A man dashed by him towards the gorge, and the rest who could
followed. One gave a slashing left-hand stroke with a long sword as
he went by the kneeling marksman, and Compton went down in a heap.
The man paused to finish his work, but with a savage roar the Hunter
leapt forward and bore him to the ground.
At the heels of the flying men went the jackal, and after him, soft-
footed, went Muata, still-voiced.
The fight was over. Mr. Hume picked Dick up and carried him into the
cave.
"A light," said the Hunter.
Venning, with his head throbbing, crawled feebly to where the
lantern was, lit it with trembling fingers, and, sitting up, threw
the light on the two forms--on the one face, beaded, working still
with the fury of the fight; on the other, still, white, and blood-
stained.
The boy's hand shook more violently, and in his weakness he sobbed.
"Put the lantern down," said Mr. Hume, fiercely.
Quickly he staunched the flow of blood, cut away the hair, and then,
with an impatient look at the sobbing boy, lowered the head he was
supporting, and searched for liniment, ointment, and restoratives.
Bending over his task, he worked with skilful fingers, and then,
with a sigh, watched the white face intently. Then he went outside
to listen, to bend over the figures lying still in the darkness, and
returning, built up the fire.
Venning watched him return to Dick, saw the long, anxious scrutiny,
and then burst out crying as he saw a look of relief come into the
rugged face.
"Don't worry, lad; he'll pick up."
"I know you think I'm no good," was the boy's heartbroken reply.
Mr. Home was at his side. "Nonsense, lad. I know what it is to have
a touch of fever; and besides, I believe it was you who gave
warning."
"I heard some one calling Ngonyama," said the boy, in a whisper,
"and I saw the face in the entrance--the same face I saw down under
there. Were they the witches?"
"It was Hassan and some of his men. They must have escaped from the
river and remained in hiding. I felt your hand in the night, and it
woke me. So, you see, you did your part. Now rest, there's a good
chap."
Mr. Hume made the boy a cooling drink, with a dose of quinine.
"I would have helped, if I could."
"You did help," said the Hunter, earnestly. "If it had not been for
you we should have been killed while we slept. You saved our lives,
just as you saved the valley by your thought of letting the water
out."
Venning was comforted. He rose up on his elbow to have another look
at Dick, saw that the colour was coming back into the white face,
and leant back on his pillow.
In the morning Muata came into the cave, staggering like a drunken
man from loss of blood, and at his heels limped the jackal with his
tongue out.
"Well?" said the Hunter.
"The last fell on the shores of the dead pool, and the last was
Hassan himself."
The chiefs bloodshot eyes roamed over the cave, until they rested on
Venning's startled face.
"On the brink of the pool he fell, and where he fell there, too, was
the Inkosikase." It seemed as if he were addressing the remark to
Venning.
"I heard her call 'Ngonyama' in the night," whispered the boy.
"Wow!"
"So the young chief told me after you had gone," said the Hunter.
Venning nodded his head.
The chief accepted the explanation. "The Inkosikase waited for the
wolf by the water's edge," he said simply, "and I smote him behind
the ear. So her spirit is at rest."
"Let me see to your wounds, chief."
"Wow! It is well my people should see them;" and the warrior went
down with unsteady steps to the village, leaving a trail of blood;
and when the people had shouted in triumph at his story of the last
fight, the medicine men took him into their charge, when his life
was in danger of escaping through one of those gaping cuts made by
Arab swords on his body.
For a fortnight Mr. Hume nursed his young friends back to health,
and for a week they sat and walked in the sun, slowly regaining
strength; and then came the first forerunner of the rains in a day
of pelting showers.
"It is the beginning," said Muata, who was proud of his newly healed
scars. "You must come down into the valley."
"There was something said about the full moon," said Mr. Hume,
suspiciously.
The chief laughed. "It was the wish of the Inkosikase; but now she
is gone, it is in my heart to take the wives to myself. But there
are others, Ngonyama."
"No, chief," said the Hunter, quickly. "How do you live in the
rains, chief? Is there much discomfort?"
"Wow! it is the red pig's life--mud all about; and there is much
sickness, for the people crowd together in the huts."
"I suppose we must stay and make the best of it; but the huts are
small."
"They are the best we can make."
"I don't know," said Venning, thoughtfully, with his eyes on the
opposite cliff. "I see there are trees up there. Is there a way up?"
"There is a goats'-track. What is in your mind, young wise one?"
"We will climb up that goats'-path, chief," said Venning, "with all
the men, cut down many of those trees, and roll them over the cliff
into the valley. Then will we build a great house, and the women
will gather grass and reeds for the thatching of it."
"It would be a good plan, if it could be done."
"We'll do it," said the Hunter; "but if we are to stay here, we must
bring up the boat, and you must let us have some of your men."
"All," said the chief; and that day the Okapi was brought up in
sections.
Then Venning's scheme was taken in hand, the cliff scaled, a hundred
trees felled, and rolled over as they fell, with all the branches
on. Then they returned to the valley, drew the fallen trees out,
lopped off the branches, shaped the poles, dug holes, and got the
uprights into position. Then followed the ridge-poles and the
sideposts, and the roof took shape, to the wonder of the women, a
noble span covering some thousands of square feet, with a length of
one hundred and fifty feet, and a height of fifty feet. As the
supporting rafters were laid, the women climbed up and set to work
at the thatching, using long bands of bark for the binding. And
while the women worked at the roof, the men built up stone walls,
under directions of the architects. The great house built, a smaller
one was made for the women, to serve as a general kitchen, with
great stacks of wood piled up all round for the fires. The entire
population was kept hard at it for a week, and when the work was
done, there was a grand ceremony over the wedding of Muata; and then
one morning they awoke to find a low grey canopy drawn over the
valley, from which fell a steady drizzle of rain. The next day was
like the first, and so on for nearly three months there was a
perpetual mist in the valley, a long dismal succession of leaden
skies hanging low. One of these days the three white friends, in
company with Muata, paid a visit to the underground world to obtain
a supply of sulphur to serve as a disinfectant and purifier--another
idea of Venning's. They found the dark passages thundering to the
fall of the water, but they found no signs whatever of living
creatures. With their loads of sulphur they very soon left the
forbidding place, and for some days after the unhappy people of the
village had to submit to the terrors of fumigation. As the
"medicine" was undoubtedly strong, and as it certainly stopped the
progress of sickness that had broken out, the "Spider" rose in the
estimation of the people as a great wizard.
At last the curtains were drawn, the blue of the sky appeared, and
the valley glittered in the brilliant sunlight.
Then the women went singing to their gardens, the men prepared for
the hunt, and the white chiefs got out their shining canoe from its
wrappings, rubbed it with fat, and polished it with wood-ashes till
it shone like a looking-glass.
"Ton will go, then?" said Muata.
"If your men will carry the pieces down to the larger river below
the gates, we will thank you."
The men went off singing, six men to each section, and in the
afternoon the Okapi was once more in her proper element.
"And which way will you go, Ngonyama?"
"We have thought it over during the rains, chief. We will go back
through the open water, back past the place where we landed in the
forest, back into the great river, and then south, even to the
farthest reaches of the Congo, when we shall be among people I know.
There we will get carriers to take the boat to the waters of another
great river, the Zambesi."
"Towards the setting sun," said Muata. "And you will want a man?"
"Two men, we would ask; and one of them, the Angoni warrior, who did
so well in the fight, for his country is to the south."
"Only one man you can have," said the chief, shortly.
They had said their good-bye to the people in the valley, who had
wept at their departure, for the white men had done much for them,
and never before had they borne the visitation of the rains with so
little discomfort.
Now they said good-bye to the chief, the man who had shared so much
of danger with them, whose shield had been their shield, whose spear
had been theirs to command.
It was difficult to say good-bye, for he seemed moody, answered them
in monosyllables, and at last, after a curt nod, left them long
before they were ready to go. And when at last they were heading
down the broad river to the old pleasant music of the clanging
levers, the edge of their joy was blunted by the thought of the
warrior's lowering looks.
"I'm sorry," said Mr. Hume, for the third time.
"I believe he has had something on his mind for days past," said
Venning; "and yesterday I saw him arguing with the headmen."
"Yet he never opposed our going. I have never seen him like that
before. Hang it all, I can't bear to think we have left him looking
so down;" and Compton banged the lever over.
They went on in silence for a mile, still thinking over Muata, when
the Angoni, who was on watch, cried out--
"Congela!"
"What do you see?"
The man pointed a black finger at the river, and on it they saw two
black spots. The man's teeth gleamed in a smile and his black eyes
sparkled.
They stood up to look, and then Mr. Hume motioned to the boys.
"Let her have it," he said; and they made those levers smoke in the
slots, for they saw in those black spots the long face of the jackal
and the head of Muata!
They were helped dripping on board, the chief with nothing else than
his Ghoorka blade.
Mr. Hume waited for an explanation, and the chief gave it in his
calm way, without a smile.
"You wanted two men, great one. I am the second."
"But we go far, while the moon is many times at the full."
"You go towards the setting sun, Ngonyama, and there also goes the
son of the Inkosikase."
"But your people?"
"I have said my say with them. They are in peace, and they can live
in peace; but is Muata a goat that he should live in a kraal? Wow! I
am a Hunter, like this little one;" and he patted the jackal on the
head.
"We are only too glad to have you, chief, if your mind is fully made
up?"
"See, Ngonyama, I thought to live in ease and grow fat, but the
spirit of my mother called out upon me--ay, it fought within me--and
I go for the hills and the open plains. Behold, I am no longer
chief." He took the long blue feather from his head, and let it
glance to the water. "My shield is your shield."
He sat down in the bows with his face toward the river, and the boys
laughed as they worked the levers.
"Ripping!" said Compton, feeling quite happy, as he touched his
precious journal.
"As good as finding a new butterfly," said Venning.
Mr. Hume nodded his head gravely several times, and then a smile
came into his eyes.
"I guess," he said, "we'll have some good hunting."
And good hunting they had after they had passed the Stanley Falls
and were in the game country, stretching for hundreds of miles to
the Zambesi. Some day, perhaps, we may hear of the adventures they
had in their long voyage before at last, a thousand miles off, they
touched bottom in the shallows where the mighty Congo narrowed down
to a stream that could be crossed at a jump. From the Congo they
marched to a tributary of the Zambesi, and at the Victoria Falls,
after having gathered a store of ivory, they found an ox-wagon,
which took them to Bulawayo; and near Bulawayo the two boys, now
stalwart young men, took possession of a farm owned by Mr. Hume, to
wait for the return of the Hunter from England, whither he had gone.
On his return they would go north, in order to keep their promise to
pick up Muata, whom they left at an Angoni kraal, on another hunting
expedition.