NEGRO DIPLOMACY
The glare was almost intolerable when Ormsgill and his carriers walked
into the space of trampled dust round which straggled the heavily
thatched huts of the native village. The afternoon sun flooded it with
a pitiless heat and dazzling brilliancy, and there was not a movement
in the stagnant atmosphere. Beyond the clustering huts the forest rose
impressively still, and there was a deep silence for a few moments
after the line of weary men appeared. Then as they came on with a soft
patter of naked feet a murmur rose from the groups of half-naked
negroes squatting in the dust under the shadow flung by a great tree.
It was not articulate, but there was a hint of anger in it, for white
men were not regarded with any great favor in that village, which was
not astonishing.
They moved quietly forward across the glaring dust, with a guard of
dusky men in white cotton marching rifle on shoulder behind them.
Indeed, the carriers only stopped when they reached the shadow of the
tree under which the Headman and the elders of the village had
assembled. Then as Ormsgill raised his hand the men with rifles swung
out to left and right, and stood fast, an inconsequent handful of
motionless figures with the unarmed carriers clustering behind them.
Their white cotton draperies, which they had put on half an hour ago,
gleamed in the sun glare dazzlingly.
Ormsgill was quite aware that a good deal depended on his composure
and steadiness of bearing, but he had just come out of the shadow of
the forest and he blinked as he looked about him. Close in front of
him the fat village Headman sat on a carved stool, but there was
another older man of somewhat lighter color and dignified presence who
was seated a little higher, and this promised to complicate the
affair, since Ormsgill recognized him as a man of some importance in
those forests, and one who claimed a certain domination over the
villages in them. It was known that he bore the white men little good
will, but his presence there suggested that he had some complaint
against the villagers, or was disposed as their suzerain to listen to
their grievances, and Ormsgill realized that he had arrived at a
somewhat unfortunate time. Then his eyes rested on another man he had
expected to see. He stood among the elders, big and brown-skinned,
with loose robes of white and blue flowing about him, smiling
maliciously, though Ormsgill fancied that for some not very evident
reason he was not quite at ease. Nares, who now stood beside his
comrade, recognized him as Domingo, the labor purveyor.
"I'm 'most afraid you are going to find it difficult to get those
boys," he said. "One could fancy these people had affairs of their own
to discuss, and it's by no means certain that they'll even listen to
us in the meanwhile."
Ormsgill, who did not answer him, glanced round at his boys. He
fancied that none of them felt exactly comfortable, but they, at
least, kept still, and he sent forward two of them with the presents
he had brought before he turned to the Headman.
"I have come here to justice," he said in a bush tongue, and Nares who
had a closer acquaintance with it amplified his observations. "That
man," and he pointed to Domingo, "has with him boys who belonged to my
friend the trader Lamartine. He stole them, and I have made a long
journey to get them back again."
"If they belonged to Lamartine, who is dead, they can not be yours,"
said the Headman shrewdly. "You do not say you bought them from him."
"In one sense it's almost a pity you hadn't. He has made a point,"
Nares said quietly.
It was evident that the rest of the assembly recognized the fact, for
there was laughter and a murmur of concurrence. Ormsgill, who did not
expect to be believed, flung a hand up.
"If you will listen you shall hear why I claim them," he said, and he
spoke for some minutes tersely while Nares now and then flung in a
word or two.
Another laugh rang along the rows of squatting men, and there was
blank incredulity in the dusky faces. This was, however, by no means
astonishing, since the motives he professed to have been actuated by
were distinctly unusual in that part of Africa. It was inconceivable
to those who heard him that a man should trouble himself greatly about
a promise he need not have kept, as this one said he had done. They
were too well acquainted with the white men's habits to believe a
thing of that kind could be possible. The fat Headman looked round and
grinned.
"I think," he observed, "we should now hear what Domingo has to say."
Domingo had a good deal to say, and framed it cunningly, playing upon
the dislike of the white men that was in those who heard him, but as
Ormsgill noticed, it was the old man of lighter color he chiefly
watched. The latter sat silent and motionless, regarding him with
expressionless eyes, until he ceased, and Ormsgill realized that if it
depended upon the opinion of the assembly Domingo had won his case.
Still, though he was by no means sure what he would do, he was, at
least, determined it should not depend on that, and there was a trace
of grimness in his smile when Nares turned to him.
"I'm afraid it has gone against us," he said.
"Against me, you mean," said Ormsgill dryly.
"No," and Nares's gesture was expressive, "what I said stands without
the correction."
Before Ormsgill could answer, the old man made a sign, and there was
no mistaking his tone of authority.
"Bring the boys," he said.
They were led in some minutes later, eight of them, and three or four
ran towards Ormsgill with eager cries. He waved them back, and there
was silence for a moment or two until the old man rose up slowly with
a curious smile in his eyes.
"It seems that this man has not beaten them too often," he said. "You
have seen that they would sooner be his men than Domingo's. Let one of
them speak."
One of them did so, and what he said bore out some, at least, of
Ormsgill's assertions. Then the grave figure in the plain white robe
raised a hand, and there was a sudden silence of attention.
"After all," he said, "this is my village, and it is by my permission
your Headman rules here. Now, this stranger has told us a thing which
appears impossible. We have not heard anything like it from a white
man before, but when a man would deceive you he is careful to tell you
what you can believe."
There was a little murmur which suggested that the listeners grasped
the point of this, and the old man went on.
"I know that Lamartine was an honest man, for I have bought trade
goods from him. They were what I bought them for, and I got the weight
and count in full. Lamartine was honest, and it is likely that this
man is honest, too, or he would not have been his friend."
He stopped a moment, and smiled a trifle dryly. "Now, we know that
Domingo is a thief, for he has often cheated you, and it is certain
that he is a friend of the white men. I have told you at other times
that you are fools to trade with him. If a man is in debt or has done
some wrong you part with him for this trader's goods. The rum is
drunk, the cloth wears out, but the man lives on, and every day's work
he does on the white men's plantations makes them richer and
stronger. As they grow richer they grow greedier, and by and by they
will not be satisfied with a man or two from among you. You will have
made them strong enough to take you all. That, however, is not the
question in the meanwhile. I think it may have happened, as this
stranger says, that Domingo stole these boys from Lamartine, but even
in that case there is a difficulty. The boys are with him, and in this
country what a man holds in his hand is his. Perhaps the white man
will offer him goods for them. I do not think he would ask too much,
at least, if he is wise."
He looked at Ormsgill, who shook his head.
"Not a piece of cloth or a bottle of gin," he said.
There was a little murmur of resentment from the assembly, but
Ormsgill saw that his boldness had the effect he had expected upon the
man whose suggestion he had disregarded, and he had not acted
inadvisedly when he dismissed all idea of compromise. Domingo had
influential friends in that village, while, save for the handful of
carriers, he and his companion stood alone. He also knew that if
misfortune befell them no troublesome questions would be asked by the
authorities. The whole enterprise was in one sense a folly, and that
being so it was only by a continuance of the rashness he could expect
to carry it through. Half measures were, as he realized, generally
useless, and often perilous, in an affair of the kind, for there are
occasions when one must face disastrous failure or bid boldly for
success. Nares also seemed to recognize that fact, for he smiled as he
turned to his companion.
"I think you were right," he said.
Then the Headman said something to his Suzerain who made a sign that
the audience was over.
"It is a thing that must be talked over," he announced. "We shall,
perhaps, know what must be done to-morrow."
Ormsgill acknowledged his gesture, swinging off his shapeless hat, and
then led his boys away to the hut one of the Headman's servants
pointed out to him. It was old, and had apparently been built for a
person of importance for, though this was more usual further east
among the dusky Moslem, there was a tall mud wall about it, and a
smaller building probably intended for the occupation of the women
inside the latter. It was dusty and empty save for the rats and
certain great spiders, and during the rest of the hot afternoon
Ormsgill sat with Nares in the little enclosed space under the
lengthening shadow of the wall. The boys had curled themselves up
amidst the dust and quietly gone to sleep.
There was nothing they could see but the ridge of forest beyond the
huts, and though now and then a clamor of voices reached them from
outside, it supplied them with no clue to what was going on. Ormsgill
smoked his pipe out several times before he said anything, and then he
glanced at the wall meditatively.
"It seems thick, and there's only one entrance," he observed. "I
almost fancy we could hold the place, though I don't anticipate the
necessity. Still, Domingo, who does a good trade here, has a certain
following, and it might be an advantage if I knew a little more about
our friends' affair. Their Suzerain seems to have some notion of fair
play. I wonder what he is doing here."
"I have been asking myself the same question," said Nares. "It seems
to me these folks have been a little slack in recognizing his
authority, and he has been making them a visitation. In one respect
they're somewhat unfortunately fixed. The Portuguese consider they
belong to them though they have made no attempt to occupy the country,
and it's a little rough on the Headman who has to keep the peace with
both."
Ormsgill made a little gesture of concurrence. "No doubt you're
correct. The question is who the Headman would sooner not offend, and
it's rather an important one because we are somewhat awkwardly
circumstanced if it's the Portuguese. Our friend from the Interior
naturally doesn't like them, but it's uncertain how far we could count
on him, and Dom Luiz will probably turn up to-morrow night or the next
day, and then there would be fresh complications."
"In that case we should never get the boys."
The lines grew a trifle deeper in Ormsgill's forehead, but he smiled.
"I wouldn't go quite so far, though if Domingo still had the boys it
might delay things. As it is, I don't think he will have them. How I'm
going to take them from him I don't quite know, but I expect to make
an attempt of some kind to-morrow. You see, these folks have no
particular fondness for the Portuguese, and that will probably count
for a little."
Nares said nothing further on that subject, and Ormsgill talked about
other matters while the shadows crept across the little dusty
enclosure and the forest cut more darkly against the dazzling glare.
Then it stood out for a brief few minutes fretted hard and sharp in
ebony against a blaze of transcendent splendor, and vanished with an
almost bewildering suddenness as darkness swept down. The smell of
wood smoke crept into the stagnant air, and a cheerful hum of voices
rose from the huts beyond the wall, through which odd bursts of
laughter broke. It would not have been astonishing if it had jarred
upon the susceptibilities of the two men who heard it, but, as it
happened, they listened tranquilly. They had both faced too many
perils in the shadowy land to concern themselves greatly as to what
might befall them. In one was the sure belief that all he was to bear
was appointed for him, and the other thought of little but the task in
hand. They were simple men, impatient often, and now and then driven
into folly by human bitterness, but there is, perhaps, nothing taught
in all the creeds and philosophies greater than their desire to do a
little good. The formulas change, and lose their authority, but the
down-trodden and those who groan beneath a heavy burden always remain.
By and by one of the Headman's retainers brought in food and a native
lamp. He had nothing to tell the white men, and they, recognizing it,
judiciously refrained from useless questions. When they had eaten they
sat awhile talking of matters that did not greatly interest them until
Ormsgill, who had already stationed his sentries, extinguished the
light.
"Whether the boys can be depended on to watch I don't know, and it's
probably very doubtful," he said. "Anyway, I think we shall be safe
until to-morrow, and I'm going to sleep. After all, I fancy we could
leave the thing to the Headman. He's a cunning rascal, and it's to
some extent his business to find a way out of the difficulty. As you
suggest, he stands between his Suzerain and the Portuguese, and can't
afford to offend either of them."
He stretched himself out on his hard native couch, and apparently sank
into tranquil slumber, but it was some time before Nares' eyes closed.
He was of different temperament, and, though he was not unduly
anxious, the surroundings had their effect on him. There was, as
usual, no door to the hut, and he could see the soft blue darkness
beyond the entrance. The figure of a big, half-naked man who carried a
heavy rifle cut against it shadowily now and then. The village was
silent, and he could hear a little hot breeze sweep through it and
stir the invisible trees. At last, however, he sank into sleep, and
was awakened suddenly some time later. He did not know what had roused
him, but as he raised himself he dimly saw Ormsgill slip across the
room. Then there was a footfall outside, and he made out the sentry
half-crouching in the entrance.
He rose, and stood still, quivering a little, while, perhaps, a
quarter of a minute slipped by. The stillness was very impressive, and
seemed emphasized by the footsteps outside. They were soft and
cautious, and it was evident that the man who made them was desirous
of slipping into the hut unseen. Then there was a thud in the
entrance, and a scuffle during which Ormsgill hurled himself upon the
pair of struggling men.
"Let him go," he said in a bush tone. "Take your hand off his neck.
Now get up."
A man who gasped heavily staggered to his feet, and Ormsgill laughed
as he turned to Nares.
"I believe he's a messenger, but he can hardly blame us for welcoming
him as we did," he said. "Now if you have anything to say go on with
it."
Nares could only just see the negro, who was probably attempting to
recover his senses, for he said nothing.
"Who sent you?" asked Ormsgill, who gripped his arm tightly, in the
native tongue.
"It is a thing I am not to tell," said the man. "I have a message.
Domingo left our village with the boys an hour ago. He heads for the
west."
Nares turned to Ormsgill. "Well," he said, "I am not altogether
astonished, and the Headman's hint is plain enough. Of course, the
thing may be a trap, but it is quite possible he is not unnaturally
anxious to get rid of us and Domingo."
Ormsgill looked at the negro. "If he has gone an hour ago how are we
to come up with him?"
"The road twists across the high land," said the man. "There is a
shorter path through a swamp."
"Then if you will lead us across the swamp so we can reach firm ground
in front of Domingo you shall have as much cloth as you can carry."
It was a tempting offer, and though the negro appeared to have
misgivings he profited by it, and in another few minutes Ormsgill had
roused the boys in the compound.
"If we have no trouble in getting out I think we can feel reasonably
sure that the Headman doesn't care whether we worry Domingo or not,"
he said.
"Well," said Nares reflectively, "I almost think you're right. Still,
he may, after all, have something different in his mind. As you said,
we could probably hold the hut, and we are not out of the village
yet."
Ormsgill seemed to smile. "In that case," he said, "he may have reason
to be sorry he ever entertained a notion of that kind."