THE AMBUSCADE
A thin crescent moon hung low in the western sky when they slipped out
into the sleeping village, and shadowy huts and encircling forest were
dimly distinguishable. The place was very silent, and though the negro
as a rule sleeps lightly no one appeared in a doorway, and no voice
was raised to challenge them. In fact, Nares, who walked beside his
comrade with his heart beating a good deal faster than usual, felt the
silence almost oppressive, for he was conscious that it might at any
moment be rudely broken. He had very little confidence in the dusky
Headman, and knew that if treachery was intended they were affording
him the opportunity he probably desired.
Now and then there was a faint clatter and jingle of arms, and at
times the soft patter of naked feet in the trampled dust was flung
back with what appeared to be a startling distinctness by the huts
they passed, but there was no other sound, and the boys flitted
steadily on, a line of vague, shadowy figures, in front of him. Then
he drew a deep breath of relief as they left the village behind them
and plunged into the gloom of the forest. He looked back a moment
towards the clustering huts which rose faintly black against the dim
bush, and wondered how the Headman would explain matters to his
Suzerain on the morrow. That, however, was the Headman's affair, and
Nares fancied he would be equal to the occasion, since the negro is
usually a very shrewd diplomatist.
By and by the darkness beneath the trees grew a little less intense,
and they came out on the brink of a morass. It stretched away before
them smeared with drifting wisps of sour white steam, and it was not
astonishing that they halted and looked at it apprehensively. An
African swamp is not, as a rule, considered impassable so long as one
does not sink beyond the hips in it, and there are places where
British forest officers flounder through them more or less cheerfully
for days together, but it is, for all that, a thing the average white
man has a natural shrinking from. Ormsgill significantly tapped the
rifle he now carried before he exchanged a few words with their guide.
"He says we can get through, but I'll take the precaution of walking
close beside him," he said to Nares. "It's an excellent rule in this
country not to let your guide get too far in front of you."
They went in, and the tall grass near the verge crackled about them as
they sank in the plastic mire out of which they could scarcely drag
their feet. It was a little easier where there was only foul slime and
water, and in places there were signs of a path, that is, they could
see where somebody else had floundered through the quaggy waste of
corruption. The smell was a thing to shudder at, but they were all of
them more or less used to that, and the emanations of such places do
not invariably prostrate the white man who is accustomed to the
country. In some cases, at least, the results of inhaling them only
appear some time afterwards, but there are very few white men who
escape them altogether.
In due time they came out, bemired from head to foot, with scum and
slimy water draining from them, and they diffused sour odors as they
once more plunged into the forest which just there was permeated with
the sickly scent of lilies. Still, it was a consolation to Ormsgill
that they had, at least, left nobody behind, and he acquired a certain
confidence in their guide. They pushed on for most of the night,
smashing and hacking a way through creepers, and stumbling in loose
white sand, and at last came out upon a well beaten trail. The negro
who crawled up and down it said that Domingo had not reached that spot
yet, but Ormsgill did not content himself with his assurance. With
difficulty, he made a little fire and while it flickered feebly
stooped over the loose sand. Then he stamped it out before he turned
to Nares.
"I almost think he is right, and as the Headman doesn't expect us to
compromise him we'll let him go," he said.
The man, it was evident, had no desire to stay, and when he went away
content with his load of cotton cloth Ormsgill made the most of his
forces. Two men with Sniders whom he fancied he could to some extent
depend upon were sent back to crouch beside the trail; a few more took
up their stations a little distance ahead; and the white men lay down
with the carriers between the two parties, and a few yards back from
the path. It was now a trifle cooler, for the night was wearing
through, and the mysterious voices of the forest had died away and
left a deep silence intensified by the splash of moisture on the
leaves. Nares shivered a little as the all pervading damp crept
through his thin garments, though the lower half of them was still
foul with the mire of the swamp.
"I suppose we shall meet Domingo if we wait long enough?" he said.
"After all, we have only the Headman's word to warrant us believing
it."
Ormsgill laughed. "It depends a good deal upon the kind of bargains
Domingo has made with him lately. The thing will probably work out
just as we would like it if he hasn't been quite satisfied with them.
It's an arrangement that would commend itself to the average African.
Still, as I said already, I'm a trifle sorry that you are mixed up in
it."
Nares sat silent a moment or two. He had borne a good deal, perhaps
rather more than could have been expected of him, from those whom he
considered with some reason as workers of iniquity, and, after all,
excessive meekness has seldom been a characteristic of the Puritan.
"Well," he said slowly, "I'm not sure that I am. It is very probable
that I have been proscribed already, and, perhaps, it was not patience
but cowardice that made me submit so long. After all, patience
accomplishes very little in Africa."
"I'm afraid it was never one of my strong points," and Ormsgill
smiled. "In fact, if Domingo made any kind of fight it would be a
certain relief to me, although because one can't always afford to be
guided by his personal likes I've taken every precaution against it.
Now, suppose we get the boys back, what do you propose to do?"
"Go back to my station," said Nares quietly.
"And if you hear that Dom Luiz is there with several files of infantry
to arrest you?"
"In that case I will go down to the coast with you."
Ormsgill dropped a hand on his comrade's shoulder. "I shall be glad to
have you wherever I go, though I'm not sure that you wouldn't be safer
if you pushed on alone. You don't mention what it has cost you to warn
me, but I think I can understand."
Nares slowly shook his head. "I don't think I have much to regret," he
said without a trace of bitterness. "I was sent here to save men's
souls, and it seems that I have failed. Still, I think I should have
stayed and healed their bodies--had it been permitted--but there is,
perhaps, work I can do elsewhere since that is not the case." He
stopped a moment with the faintest sigh. "We will not mention this
again."
Ormsgill said nothing, probably because he was more than a trifle
stirred. He knew that it requires self-restraint and courage to face
the fact that one's efforts have been thrown away, but there are men
like him who now and then shrink from expressing their sympathy.
Leaning forward a little with the rifle across his knees he set
himself to listen.
It was almost an hour before he heard anything at all, and in the
meanwhile the faint coolness increased, and the tops of the trees
above him became dimly visible. They cut with a growing sharpness
against the eastern sky, and here and there a massy trunk grew out of
the obscurity. Then there was a faint pearly flush beyond them, and in
the cold of the sudden dawn he heard the men he was waiting for. A
soft patter of footsteps and a murmur of voices came up the winding
trail. He knew the boys had also heard, for the undergrowth behind him
crackled and then was still again.
In another few minutes there was dim light in the forest, and he could
see indistinct figures moving towards him through the narrow gap in
the leaves. They became more visible, and he could make out the
uncovered ebony skin of some and the fluttering cotton that flowed
about the others' limbs. There were burdens upon most of their heads,
but a few carried what seemed to be long flintlock guns. Then, for
dawn comes with startling swiftness in that land, the shadowy trunks
became sharp and clear, and the men who plodded among them seemed to
emerge from a blurring obscurity. Black limbs, impassive faces, raw
white draperies, and gray gun barrels were forced up in the sudden
light, but Ormsgill raising himself a trifle fixed his eyes upon the
man of lighter color who walked a little apart from the others. His
voice rang harshly as he flung menaces in a native tongue at one or
two of those who lagged under their burdens, and perhaps he was, in
one respect, warranted in this, since, for economic reasons, the negro
whose labor somebody else has sold for him is seldom loaded beyond
his strength on his march to the coast, at least, so long as
provisions are plentiful.
They had almost reached the spot where the white men lay when Ormsgill
quietly walked out into the trail, and stood there with left foot
forward and the rifle at his hip. He had left his shapeless hat
behind, and his thin, thorn-rent garments clung about him damp with
dew and foul with mire. Still, he looked curiously resolute, and the
men with the burdens stopped and recoiled at the sight of him, until
one group of them flung down what they carried and ran towards him
clamoring. Then there was a harsh cry from the rear of the line, and
swinging round they scattered into the underbrush as the tall man of
lighter color sprang forward with something that glinted in his hand.
Ormsgill's rifle went up and came in to the shoulder. With the same
motion his cheek dropped upon the stock. He said nothing, but the
labor purveyor stopped. Ormsgill swung down the rifle.
"Look behind you," he said in Portuguese.
Domingo turned, and saw two half-naked men with Sniders standing in
the trail. Then looking round again he saw several more ahead, while
other dusky figures had risen here and there among the undergrowth.
They appeared resolute, and it was evident that he could get no
further without their permission. He was credited with being a daring
as well as an unscrupulous man, but he knew when the odds were too
heavy against him, and he made a sign to Ormsgill.
"You want something from me?" he said.
"I do," said Ormsgill. "The boys you stole from Lamartine. It will
save you trouble if you give them up."
Domingo glanced once more at the men with the rifles, who stood still,
one or two of them regarding him with a sardonic grin. Then he glanced
at his startled carriers, who had thrown down their burdens and
huddled together. There was, of course, nothing to be expected from
them, and his few armed retainers were evidently not to be relied
upon. In fact, they were gazing longingly at the bush, and it was
clear that they were ready to make a dash for its shelter. They had
done his bidding truculently when it was a question of overawing
down-trodden bushmen and keeping defenseless carriers on the march,
but to face resolute men with rifles was a different matter, and their
courage was not equal to the task. Domingo seemed to recognize it, for
he made a little scornful gesture.
"If I had a few men who could be depended on I would fight you for the
boys," he said. "As it is they are yours."
"I see eight," said Ormsgill. "Where are the others?"
Domingo smiled maliciously. "In the hands of the Ugalla Headman. I am
afraid it will be a little difficult to induce him to part with them:
Lamartine, it seems, had taught them enough to make them useful to a
Headman who is copying the white men's habits."
"In that case he no doubt gave you something worth while for them, and
since you stole them it does not belong to you. Are you willing to
tell me what he offered you?"
"No," said Domingo resolutely.
"It wouldn't be difficult to estimate it at the usual figure, and you
will understand that the Headman will ask me, at least, as much as he
gave for them, but I will be reasonable. If you will let me have the
arms your boys carry I shall be satisfied."
"How can I drive these men to the coast if we have no arms?"
"I don't know," said Ormsgill with a little laugh. "It is your affair,
but, perhaps, I can simplify the thing for you. I will take the arms
in exchange for the boys in the Headman's possession, and hand you
over what trade goods I have and paper bills for the rest of the men,
except the eight boys, for whom you will get nothing. I think I can
calculate what they cost you, and the fact that the transaction is
probably illegal does not trouble me."
There was still silence for a moment or two, and a dazzling ray of
sunlight beat down into the bush. It made a sudden brightness, and
showed the malice in Domingo's dusky face. Then it touched the huddled
carriers' naked skin, and Nares glanced from them to the group of
Lamartine's boys who had appeared again. It seemed they understood a
little of what was going on, and were watching Ormsgill expectantly.
He stood quietly in the middle of the trail, with a rifle at his hip
and a little grim smile in his eyes. All round rose the forest,
impressive in its stillness, dim and shadowy, and the scene had a
curious effect on Nares. He felt it had its symbolism, and its motive
was that of all the old world legends and dramas, the triumph of the
right over evil which man has from forgotten times vaguely believed
in. It is, perhaps, especially difficult to be an optimist in Africa,
but Nares who had borne a good deal in its steamy shadow held fast to
his faith, and it did not matter greatly to him that the latter day
champion of the oppressed was a most unknightly figure in burst shoes
and tattered garments and carried an American rifle. At last, however,
Domingo made a little gesture.
"I am in your hands," he said. "You shall have them."
They were not long in making the bargain, and when the arms and all
the boys except the few who had carried the long guns had been handed
over Ormsgill turned once more to Domingo.
"Now," he said, "you can go where you please, but I scarcely think it
will be back towards the interior. Your friends up yonder would
probably profit by the opportunity if you appeared among them with a
few unarmed men."
Domingo called to his few remaining followers, who took up some of the
loads the men released had carried for them. Then there was a soft
patter of feet and one by one the dusky figures flitted by and
vanished into the gloom. Ormsgill armed Lamartine's boys, and
afterwards drew Nares aside.
"In the first case I have to make sure of these men, and it is a
question if I can reach the coast before Domingo's friends head me
off," he said. "Considering everything it seems to me that haste is
distinctly advisable."
They started in another half-hour, and pushed on through the forest
for a week or two. Then Ormsgill made a traverse which cost him
several days to reach the vicinity of Nares' station. He stopped at a
bush village, and was told there that the station was occupied by
black soldiers from San Roque. When they heard it Ormsgill quietly
looked at Nares.
"You can't go back," he said. "The Chefe holds summary authority, and
no doubt has his views concerning you. It's scarcely worth while
pointing out what they would probably be, but if you succeed in
getting out of his hands you would be a discredited man who had only
met with his deserts."
Nares made a little gesture, for that was a very bitter moment, but
his face was tranquil.
"It's a thing I was prepared for. We'll push on," he said.
They stayed an hour or two in the village, and then started once more
on their long journey to the coast. It was clear that they could
afford no delay in reaching it, but there was no road to the Bahia
Santiago, and day by day they floundered through swamp and forest
under an intolerable heat, with garments rent to tatters, worn out,
gasping now and then, but always pushing on. They drank putrid water,
and when provisions commenced to run out lived on a few daily handfuls
of equally divided food. Nature was also against them, and barred
their path with fallen trees and thorny creepers, and the march they
made was a test of what man could bear. Still, there was no discord,
and no negro raised his voice in protest. The boys recognized that
haste was advisable, and they had confidence in the white man with the
quiet lined face who marched at the head of them.