"Most glorious night,
Thou wert not sent for slumber! let me be
A sharer in thy fierce and fair delight."
Byron.
Scene: Night on an unknown river, which, dark and deep and sluggish, is
rolling onwards to the distant ocean through a wild and beautiful
district in the interior, nay, but ill the very centre of Africa. The
centre it may well be called, for it is near the equator, and hundreds
of miles from the Indian Ocean. Night on the river, but not darkness.
A round moon has risen, the clouds, dazzled by its splendour, have
parted to let it pass; its light is flooding hill and dell and forest,
and changing the river itself to--apparently--a moving flood of molten
gold.
Light, but not darkness. Night, but not silence either. Were it
possible for any one to pass swiftly and unseen along the banks of the
unknown river at such an hour and on such a night as this, what sights
he would see, what sounds would fall upon his listening ear! Come with
me in imagination! Take heed of those rocks; they are slippery at the
edge, for the rainy season is not yet past. To fall into the stream
would mean an ugly death, were you even as good a swimmer as the gallant
Webb. There are no signs of life in the water, it is true, but the
plash of your fall would raise a score of awful heads above it; the
crocodiles would be upon you with lightning speed, and rend you from
limb to limb.
Peer over the cliff just there. What is that lying on the mud close by
the river? Is it the trunk of some dead tree? Drop a pebble on it.
See; it moves off into the river and slowly disappears--a crocodile.
Hark to that horrible sound! it makes the very "welkin" ring,--a loud,
discordant, coughing, bellowing roar. It is the lion-king of the
forest. He loves not the moonlight. It baulks him of his prey; so
there is anger in that growl. But you hardly can tell whence it comes;
at one moment, it sounds over yonder among the rocks, next, down in that
lonesome ravine, and next, in the forest behind you.
Look at those great birds. They fly so closely over our heads that
their mighty wings overshadow us for a moment, and we can hear the
rustling, creaking sound made by their feathers. There is something
lying dead in the valley beyond the hill, and these are vultures going
to gorge by the moonlight.
Two great necks are raised like poles behind a rock as the birds fly in
that direction. Giraffes, who have been sleeping--there in the open,
their heads leaning on the rocks, their ears doing duty even in slumber,
but ready if danger draws near to--
"Burst like whirlwind o'er the waste,
To thunder o'er the plain."
In yonder, beneath that flowery, ferny bank, is the leopard's cave--the
tiger cat. If you went near enough you would see her fiery eyes, and
hear a low, ominous growl that would chill you to the spine.
Yes, wild beasts and wild birds keep close to-night; for a little while
only; when the deer and the antelope steal down to the river, they will
come forth, and there will be yells and shrieks of anger, pain, and
terror, and an awful feast to follow.
Behold those lordly elephants; how they trumpet and roar! They are
excited about something.
Something unusual has happened, or they would not be there at this hour.
Ha! There is a boat on the river, creeping up under the shadow of the
rocks. What mystery is this? There are white men in it, too, and right
merrily they are paddling along. But never before have the waters of
this unknown river been stirred by oar of European.
For not only is the country all around here a wild one, but it has the
name, at all events, of being inhabited by a race of savages that are
never at peace, who are born, live, and die on the war-path--the Logobo
men.
"Couldn't we go a little nearer?" said Harvey, who sat in the stern
sheets near the tall Arab Zona, who was steering, Kenneth and Archie
having an oar each.
"Couldn't we go a little nearer and have a shot at that elephant?"
"No, no, no," cried Zona, hastily; "we must keep in the shade,
gentlemen. Even the moon is not our friend, pleasant though her light
be. But the sound of your rifle would raise the Logobo men, and a
thousand poisoned arrows would soon be whistling round our heads. We
could not escape."
"Before morning," said Kenneth, "according to your reckoning, my good
Zona, we should be well through the Logobo country, and among friends?"
"True," replied Zona; "we will be among friends all the way to the land
of gold, I trust."
"The land of gold!" exclaimed Kenneth; "what a fascinating phrase!
Zona, when we met you in Zanzibar our lucky stars must have been in the
ascendant."
Zona gave a little laugh.
"It is the land of gold," he said, "that we are going to, it is true;
but no man that ever yet tried brought that gold down to the coast."
"And why, my friend?"
"Why? I cannot tell you all the reasons why. They say the gold is
guarded by evil spirits, that the hills where it is to be found are
encircled by giant forests, by terrible swamps, the breath of which is
more feared by the Arab than spear of savage foeman."
"We can but try," said Kenneth.
"Zona," said Archie, "did ever you hear the line of that old song, `The
March of the Cameron Men,' which says, `Whatever a man dares he can
do'?"
"Gentlemen all," replied Zona, "the Arab is the most daring of all men
who live; the Arab has sought this gold that we are going in quest of;
the Arab has failed! I have spoken."
"Worthy Zona," said Harvey, laughing, "you have an excellent opinion of
your people, and an excellent opinion of yourself. Nay, never start,
man. I love you for it. But let me tell you this. There is one thing
in which even an Arab gold-seeker, with all his pluck and daring, may
fail in--"
"And that is?" said Zona.
"Knowledge of prospecting."
"I am in the dark as to your meaning," said Zona.
"I know you are, and so are all your people. In other words, then, they
don't know where to look for the gold. Now listen, friend. I have
spent years and years in the gold regions of California--"
"I say, Harvey, old man," said Kenneth, "you weren't much the better of
it. Eh?"
"True," replied Harvey, with a sigh; "else you wouldn't have found me
working as an ordinary seaman before the mast in a craft like the
_Brilliant_."
"Forgive me," said Kenneth, stretching out his hand, which Harvey
readily grasped. "Forgive me; I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I
found you before the mast, it is true; but I took to you from the first
hour we met. You have got the grit of a good man in you. Else Archie
and I wouldn't have asked you to come with us on this gold-hunt, which
after all may turn out to be a wild-goose chase."
"But it will _not_ be a wild-goose chase. Man, I tell you this, the
very mud of the river we are now floating over contains gold dust. We
are going to trace that gold to its source, and find it in nuggets."
"I have found gold before," he continued. "I have made two fortunes and
lost them, worse luck; but I can tell you whether or not gold lies in
any country, if I get but one glance at the land, or but walk over it
once. Fear not then, I won't deceive you, nor myself."
"Well, we shall trust to your skill," said Archie.
"And to Zona's," added Kenneth.
"To Zona's, certainly."
Let us hark back, reader, in our tale for a moment, and explain the
appearance of our adventurers on this wild dark river of Africa at such
a time of night.
The _Brilliant_ then was in the habit of touching occasionally at
Zanzibar in her passage from the East Indies to the Cape. Being much on
shore, Kenneth could not help becoming acquainted with some of the
numerous Portuguese merchants, who had settled in that strange city,--if
a Portuguese merchant can be said to settle anywhere, for they are, like
ourselves, a nation of wanderers. They are hospitable at their houses,
however, and Kenneth and Archie too were made welcome, enough, and many
a quiet cup of coffee they drank in the cool of the evening on great
square housetops overlooking the blue sea.
They would sit far into the night, listening to stories of the interior
of Africa, of wild adventures with wild beasts and wilder men, of great
forest land and terrible swamps, of the country of the dwarfs and the
dreaded gorilla, and of diamond caves, and caves in which nuggets of the
richest gold were to be had for the gathering.
No wonder that such stories as these fired the young blood of our heroes
Kenneth and Archie. They both longed to be rich; it was no mean
ambition, for riches would be valued by neither as a mere hoard of
wealth, but for the good they could accomplish therewith in the dear
wild land of their nativity.
"Oh!" said Kenneth one evening as he sat on a roof-top under the quiet
stars, listening to the conversation of his friend Morosco. "Oh! if I
could but get up and command an expedition into the interior!"
"Ha! ha!" laughed the Portuguese, "an idle dream. Ten thousand men
could not penetrate into the land of gold and diamonds."
"But," said Archie, "two or three might."
"Ah!" cried Morosco, "there you have it, young sir; one man may do more
in Africa than an army. It has ever been thus; look at your Livingstone
for example."
Then Kenneth took to thinking, and for days said no more on the subject
even to Archie. But one evening, he asked him to come for a row among
the coral islands. It was nearly sundown. There was not a ripple on
the water, only a yellow haze all along the horizon, with the broad sun
sinking red through it.
Kenneth lay on his oars, and let the boat float wherever the tide cared
to take her.
"What a lovely night, Archie!" said Kenneth at last. "What a lovely
colour is in the sky! The clouds are gold, the sea is gold, the
consuls' houses and the sultan's palace are roofed in gold, the lofty
palm-trees are tipped with gold, and the waves are rippling and lisping
on sands of gold."
"Ah!" replied Archie, "my dear brother, your thoughts are steeped in
gold. Morosco's stories have given you gold fever--but there, I won't
laugh at you, for I tell you I know all your longings, and I, too, have
the same."
Kenneth stretched across the thwarts and pressed his friend's hand.
"You'll go," he said, "you'll come with me into the interior. You'll
brave danger? Everything?"
"Everything," replied Archie. "We are young, strong, healthy, hearty;
why should we not? But," he continued, "while you have been dreaming I
have been scheming. Zona, an Arab friend of mine, and a soldier, has
been on expeditions into and beyond the Logobo country already; I have
spoken to him, he is willing to venture with us. And so will Harvey."
"Harvey?" said Kenneth.
"Yes, he is like ourselves, a Scot. He will, he says, do or dare
anything for a change."
"Hurrah!" cried Kenneth.
He was so excited now that he must needs bend to his oars again, and the
light skiff in which he rowed seemed actually to skim the water like a
skipjack. For his actions were keeping pace with his thoughts. And all
the way down to the Cape, in what was to be their last voyage in the
_Brilliant_, there was little else talked about by the three friends but
their coming adventures in the land of gold.
When paid off, they took passage, for cheapness' sake, in an Arab dhow
to Zanzibar. It was a long voyage in such a craft, and a rough one in
many ways, for they got little to eat except dates and rice. But what
cared they? The rice, in their eyes, seemed like little nuggets of
gold. They reached Zanzibar safe and sound, and made haste to see Zona,
the Arab chief, and arrange everything.
Zona brought with him a bold but honest-looking black boy. He was to be
their guide through the country beyond Logobo. This boy, called
Essequibo, came from there. Nay, let me rather say had been dragged
from there by cruel and heartless slave-dealers.
Though an Arab, Zona had a good heart. He had first seen little
Essequibo asleep on the rude steps of the slave auction mart at Lamoo,
and his soul warmed to the poor lad. Dreaming the boy was of his
far-off home in the interior, of the little village among the cocoa
palms, where his mother and father lived ere that terrible night when
the Arabs fell on them with chains and fire,--fire for the town, chains
for the captives. Dreaming of home, dreaming that he was back once
more, roaming with his brothers and sisters in the free forest, through
the jungle, over hills purple with glorious heaths, through woods dark
even at midday, or by the lakes where the hippopotami bathe and wallow,
and where under the pale rays of the moon the deer and hart steal down
to drink, their every movement watched by the wary leopard.
Though but a child when stolen from his home, and at the time of our
tale in his fifteenth year, Essequibo had not forgotten a single hill or
dale or creek or even tree of his native country. He was bold, bright,
and faithful, as will be seen.
The preparations for the great journey had been very simple, perhaps too
much so, for they consisted mainly in arms and ammunition. Kenneth,
with all the simple faith of his countrymen, had put Nannie's old Bible
in his wallet. In his wallet, too, Archie had slyly deposited the
flute.
"An old Scotch air," he had said, "may help to 'liven us up when things
look black and drear."
They had travelled thus far almost without adventure. They were now in
the very heart of the warlike Logobos, but as yet had seen nothing more
terrible than the denizens of forests and river I have already
described.