POST 32
The man gave a couple of heavy strokes with his paddle. His canoe
turned, met the current at an angle and slid towards the bank of the
canal, head-on. Mud squirted up and the canes on the bank crashed
backwards; and the light skiff lay motionless in its bed. Jumping up on
to the limb of a mangrove, the savage tied his canoe; then, picking up
his bow and quiver, he slid from branch to branch on to dry land.
Standing at the edge of the level ground, he looked about him. To his
right the double palisade of the military post could be seen, topped by
the roofs of its newly finished buildings. He turned in that direction.
At the postern gate he knocked loudly, and then, sitting down with his
back to the heavy door, he waited patiently, his chin on his knees.
The Moï who ran up at the noise opened the door cautiously, then asked
angrily:
"Was it you who knocked? What do you want?"
"It was I," said the man calmly. "I want to speak to the chief."
The other looked at him carefully, up and down.
"The lieutenant is away ... it is the priest who, while awaiting his
return...."
"Go then: it is Father Ravennes that I will see...."
The convert grumbled:
"Come in. I will go and tell him."
And already he was hurrying off when the other called to him:
"Tell him what? You fool!"
And as the Moï, abashed, stared at him, he ordered:
"You will say to him that I have arrived from the west and that I bring
news...."
And disdainfully shrugging his shoulders, he began to roll a cigarette.
"Hurry, now!" he added.
Suppressing his anger, the convert went off. He found the missionary in
front of the look-out post. Standing in the gateway, Father Ravennes
was directing the final efforts of those who were putting the finishing
touches to the building. Around the various erections, of which the
freshly plastered walls shone white in the sunshine, a few _linhs_ and
some twenty women were busied.
The arrival of the convert drew his attention.
"What is it? A courier from Khône-Sud?" said he. "Bring him here."
The man appeared at the entrance of the court, and while he was
salaaming before him the missionary looked him over. It was one of
the wild Stiengs, small-built but strong. His body was bare except
for a brown cloth about his loins; his face, of pronounced features,
emphasized by the square, projecting chin, was almost brutal, but
lighted by gray metallic-looking eyes. He spoke in a loud voice,
slightly hoarse and rather guttural, in sonorous syllables which now
and then fell into a rhythmic chant. He made no gestures; merely from
time to time lifting his heavy crossbow of shining redwood from one
broad shoulder to the other.
"Lieutenant Darty of Post 30 sends you greeting. He wishes to inform
you that the Sedangs of his region have deserted the village. Things
are happening around him which he does not understand and which make
him feel anxious. If you go towards the west, do not fail to go and see
him. He would like to speak to you about these things. Meanwhile he
warns you to be on your guard."
The missionary smiled carelessly.
"Ah!" said he, "for the three years that I have been here I have done
nothing else! Never mind, the advice is always good. On your way back
to Khône-Sud you will give my thanks to Lieutenant Darty. You will also
tell him that I will come to see him and as soon as I can. Is that all?"
"No. There is a new chief at Post 28. The former one has gone back to
Saigon on a vacation. In the low country through which I have come the
flood has carried away two villages...."
"And the mail carrier? The letters, the papers?"
"Nothing left! The sampan that carried the mail was wrecked near Post
28, the mail sacks were lost."
"Very good," said Father Ravennes, "you can go and rest yourself."
The man remained motionless.
"I have still this to tell you," said he, "Inspector Keratel, of
Khône-Sud, greets you. He has ordered me to tell you that the
administrator who was to join the lieutenant here has started on his
way and will be here soon."
Father Ravennes lit his pipe.
"How soon? They announced his arrival for the end of the month, and
this is the 6th.... When will he be here, according to you?"
The man considered for a minute and looked at the sky.
"Before the sun has set," said he. "We left Khône-Sud together one
moon[5] and four nights ago, but after three days of the journey I
left him to take a short cut, and came up the canal in my canoe.
Unfortunately, the flood had made the rapids impassable. I nearly got
drowned in making an attempt to cross at Ong-Sep and I had to wait
until the water went down. That kept me back for at least two days. The
others cannot be far behind me."
[Footnote 5: "Moon" is used by the Indo-Chinese natives to signify a
single phase of the moon, not a month, which would be four "moons."]
He fell silent, yawned and stretched himself. Down his slender chest
and along his thighs the muscles rippled and stood out.
Father Ravennes dropped a hand on his shoulder.
"When do you go back?" he asked.
"In about two hours or so. I shall only stay long enough to repair the
hole in my canoe."
"Good! I will give you some letters to take back before you go. Is
there anything you need?"
Shaking his head proudly, the man pointed to the bow which he held in
his hand and the quiver full of arrows hanging at his side.
"No," said he, "with that I have everything I need."
He saluted and made ready to go, but the missionary still held him back.
"Do you know the name of the administrator who is coming here?"
"The _cai_ who was in command of the escort told me his name; it is the
Sahib Lursac."
The missionary considered.
"Lursac? I do not know that name."
He turned towards the courier.
"Very good," said he, "you can go now."
But the man had already started. He crossed the court. The blazing sun
made his naked body shine, and caught with a sparkle of light the steel
point of the crossbow laid across his shoulder.
Father Ravennes watched him pass through the postern and disappear. He
repeated thoughtfully to himself:
"Lursac? Lursac? A new arrival probably. A strange idea to pick him out
to send here!"...
He remained thoughtful a minute, and then murmured:
"But that's what they always do at Saigon!..."
Shrugging his shoulders, he strode off towards the office.
* * * * *
"There is the Post," said Pierre.
And he stood motionless while the convoy, debouching from the forest,
reached the edge of the valley. Standing beside the young man, Wanda
looked around the scene with curiosity.
On her right the river flowed between its low banks edged with canes
and mangroves. On the brink of the water the station stood, defended
by its double horseshoe-shaped palisade only broken by a heavy gateway
with a double door. Wrapping it round on all sides and separated from
the fortifications only by a narrow clearing, the great Lao-ese forest
stood about it in a dark and rustling circle which extended even to the
very banks of the canal. Facing the fort towards the north rose hilly
slopes, and behind them, blocking out the sky, the chaotic mass of the
great Moï range stretched its sombre crests and its threatening bulk,
striped with alternate zones of shadow and sunlight. On the other side,
all the back country across the river was nothing but a great plain of
monotonous red soil which stretched towards the south as far as one
could see.
"Look," said Pierre, "they must have seen us!"
Up the mast standing by the entry gate a flag was crawling, and as the
great double doors opened a trumpet call resounded.
Pierre turned to the girl.
"Come," said he.
They walked forward. Behind them the elephants and then the ox-carts
lumbered in their turn, escorted by the native riflemen.
The trumpet ceased. The shadow of night crept upward into the day. A
flight of wild geese crossed the gathering dusk and their cries floated
over the plain.
Standing before the doorway, Father Ravennes awaited them. When Pierre
de Lursac had come within a few paces of him he came quickly to meet
them. His look fell on Wanda and his forehead wrinkled. Suppressing his
surprise, he introduced himself:
"Father Ravennes, of the Apostolic Mission to the Banhars."
"Administrator Pierre de Lursac."
The missionary looked the young man over with a swift glance. His face
relaxed and he stretched out his hand.
"I am glad to welcome you to Post 32, in the absence of Lieutenant
Redeski," said he.
"Ah!" said Wanda, "Michael is not here?... Nothing has happened to him,
has it?"
The priest turned towards her. Pierre caught the questioning glance
which he threw first on the young girl and then on him. He blushed.
"Mademoiselle Redeski," said he, "sister of the lieutenant."
And at the same time he in his turn looked the priest over.
He saw a man of some 45 years of age, clothed, Annamese style, in a
black tunic and white trousers. Above his long bony body and planted
on broad shoulders his small head with its thin face and pronounced
features gave a singular impression of sweetness and energy combined.
The forehead, high and smooth, and the chin prominent, with a short
grayish beard, gave to his face an expression of strength of will,
almost of severity; but his eyes, large and pale, lit with dreams
and such as the apostles of the early ages of the Faith must have
had, illuminated the ascetic face, at once virile and tender, with
intelligence and kindness. The missionary bowed.
"Do not be disturbed, Mademoiselle, your brother started three days ago
on a tour of inspection round the district. We did not expect M. de
Lursac for another three weeks, and Redeski expected to be back here
before that. I believe further that he did not know ... at least he
never told me...."
The young girl laughed aloud.
"No, he doesn't even know of my arrival in Indo-China. That will be a
surprise for him."
They had meanwhile been walking on and had entered the courtyard of
the fort. Behind them the convoy had crossed the fortifications and
the gate had been closed. The priest climbed the wooden outside stair
leading to the officers' quarters. Crossing the veranda which ran round
the whole façade of the building, he conducted the young people through
the rooms.
"A domiciliary visit," said he, laughingly. "It will not be a very long
one. Five rooms: an office, a dining room, three bedrooms. Because of
the damp ground, everything is built upon piles."
"Oh!" said Wanda, "how strange!"
She had lifted a large screen of plaited bamboo, and the river and the
plain lay before her. The yellow waters of the canal flowed at the very
base of the building and gurgled against the pillars that supported it.
Above the land floated a fine dust which the setting sun gilded and
turned to clouds of rosy jade. A sky of shining mauve stretched away to
the vague horizon, which was cut in two by a dark patch.
The missionary pointed out this last to the young people. "That is the
clump of trees which surrounds my Mission," said he. "I am your nearest
neighbor, ten miles away. The other posts, 30 and 28, are, the one, ten
days' journey to the east, and the other, eight days to the west...."
He had let the screen fall into its place again and continued his
explanations.
"The arrangement of the rooms is very simple. They are all in a row and
have communicating doors. To the south they look over the plain; on the
north, that is to say the side of the veranda, they open towards the
mountains. As for the furnishing, it is very primitive--as you see:
beds, a few tables, a dozen chairs, and chests everywhere. On the other
hand you have four oil lamps and two candle lamps; a luxury which you
will soon come to appreciate at its right value."
They went out on the veranda again.
In the middle of the court the riflemen were finishing the unloading of
the ox-carts. The elephants, already free of their burdens, were tied
in their sheds beside the oxen.
The missionary pointed out the subsidiary buildings, one by one.
"On the right, against the palisade, the barracks for the men, the
store-rooms, the cook-houses, the cabins for the servants and the
drivers; on the left, facing them, the sheds for the draft animals and
the stables; this little thatched hut raised above the ground by the
entry-gate houses the guard who keeps watch every night from the first
night-watch to the first morning-watch. And that's all."
He drew himself up; his expression became grave, and while with a wave
of his arm he included the whole countryside, he said:
"Your whole life from now on will be passed within this double
stockade. Redeski, when he gets back, will explain to you all the
details of the service. But for the present, I shall be bold enough to
give you some advice: Do not go too far from the fort in the course of
your walks or rides, at least at first...."
Wanda, turning towards him, demanded:
"Why?"
"Because you are here in the middle of an unsubdued region and on the
very threshold of the Moï country into which no European has yet been
able to penetrate."
The young girl looked at him. Her voice took on a troubled note.
"But what about Michael?..."
The priest realized her anxiety and the question which she hardly dared
to ask.
"Oh," said he, "Redeski has taken his precautions. He is accompanied by
eight armed native soldiers, and, besides, he is not travelling in the
direction of the Pou-Kas...."
The sky darkened rapidly, the distant flank of the mountains behind
which the sun had disappeared had deepened to a blackish blue. The
shadows stretching down from their crests reached almost to the Post,
and already the plain lay blotted out. Above the river the hoarse
night-cry of a water fowl grated through the silence. The last packages
of the convoy had been carried into the store sheds, and around the
empty court a few fowls were straying and pecking in the dust.
"It is time for me to go," said Father Ravennes, "I will come back in
two or three days to see if I can be of any service to you. In any case
if you need me you know where the Mission is. You only have to cross
the canal and go straight forward towards that clump of trees in the
middle of which it is hidden. It is only a matter of three-quarters of
an hour or so on horseback, and everything there is yours as much as
mine.... _Au revoir!_"
"Thank you," said Pierre, "we will come very soon."
The priest descended the narrow stairway. His form grew vague and
smaller and then mingled with the shadows with which the court was
flooded.
Leaning over the rail of the balcony, Wanda called after him in her
turn:
"We will come as soon as we have got our things put straight. _Au
revoir!_"
His voice, already distant, floated up to them.
"_Au revoir!_"
Leaning on their elbows side by side, Wanda and Pierre listened a
minute longer to the footsteps of the priest as they became fainter and
fainter and at last died away in the night. Then, turning and looking
at each other, they smiled softly....