INTO THE INTERIOR
For a moment Joe and Blake did not know whether or not to tell Mr.
Duncan what they had seen in the paper. Then the realization came to
Joe that he could not hope to conceal from his father the bad news.
“We’re up against it, Dad!” he exclaimed, with a brave attempt to pass
it off.
“How’s that, son?”
“Jessie is gone!”
“Gone?” There was alarm in Mr. Duncan’s tone.
“Yes, the mission station where she was with Mr. and Mrs. Brown has
been raided by the natives, and they have been carried into the jungle.”
Mr. Duncan looked stunned for a moment, and then exclaimed:
“Into the jungle! My poor little girl! But we’ll go into the interior
after her. Joe, we’ll get her away from the savages, if it’s at all
possible!”
“That’s what we will!” cried the brother of the missing girl.
“And I’m with you!” added Blake.
“Count me in on that!” said another voice, and they turned to behold C.
C. Piper.
“I heard what you said,” went on the actor. “Don’t be discouraged.
We’ll get her, all right. Those natives may not be half so bad as
they’re painted, and they may treat your sister and the missionaries
fairly decent.
“What if they are in the jungle? We can follow them. I didn’t learn to
shoot big game for nothing. We’ll trek into the interior; the sooner
the better. It will all come out right yet, you’ll see!”
This talk, so much in contrast with the way C. C. usually spoke, had
its effect. Joe, Blake and Mr. Duncan felt more hopeful.
“It’s like the time on the beach,” whispered Blake. “It seems that when
there’s an emergency C. C. jumps into it and forgets his gloom.”
“That’s right,” agreed Joe. “It may come back to him, but, for the time
being, he’s jollier than usual, and I’m glad of it.”
“So am I,” said Mr. Duncan, for he knew something of C. C. Piper.
“If only we could make faster time!” exclaimed Mr. Duncan, when they
were once more under way. “It seems that I never knew a steamer to make
such slow progress.”
“And yet we are doing fairly well,” said C. C. “Now, have you formed
any plans?”
“I don’t seem to be able to,” went on Jessie’s father, as he once more
scanned the paper giving an account of the raid on the missionary
station. “Only the fact that my little girl may be among the savages
appeals to me. Oh, if we could only rescue her!”
“We will!” declared Blake, with a confidence he did not altogether
feel. “We’ll get right among ’em, and if we have to scare ’em
with a moving picture machine, telling ’em it’s the worst kind of
witch-medicine, we’ll do it.”
“If only we can influence ’em in some way!” murmured Joe.
“Now as to plans,” went on Mr. Piper, who seemed ready to take
practical charge of the expedition, which was likely to have a harder
task before it than at first supposed. “I think that our best work can
be done by going direct to Mombasa, as we figured on originally. There
we can take the Uganda railroad to the Victoria Nyanza. Crossing that
body of water we can get to Entebbe, and from there----”
“From there we’ll have to strike into the jungle, try to locate the
station at Kargos and, and then----” began Mr. Duncan.
“And then find Jessie!” interrupted Joe.
“And we’ll do it!” cried Blake.
“My idea exactly!” declared C. C. Piper, who seemed to show no
disposition to revert to his original state of gloom.
“I wonder if we’ll get any chance to make moving pictures for that
circus man?” mused Joe. “Not that I’m even going to think about it
until we find Jessie, but----”
“You’ll probably have plenty of chance,” said Mr. Piper. “The railroad
journey is five hundred and eighty miles, and we can’t make it all in
one day. There will be frequent stops, I expect, and on them you can
make moving pictures.”
“But will there be wild animals near the railroad?” asked Blake.
“There certainly will,” declared the actor. “It runs right to Port
Florence, on Victoria Lake, and I have often read of the trainmen
seeing anything from elephants to lions along the track, for it runs
through a big game preserve. Why, there is one story of a German
hunter who went down on a special car on the Uganda railroad to kill a
man-eating lion that had been terrorizing the natives near one of the
line stations. An Englishman and an Italian were with him. The car was
shunted to a siding on the railroad near where the lion had been seen.
“It was hot, the Englishman sat by an open window to watch for the
lion, but fell asleep. The Italian stretched out on the floor, and the
German got into a bunk. The Italian was roused by a commotion, and
awoke to see the lion standing on him with his hind feet, while his
fore paws were on the seat where the Englishman had been. The latter
was dead.
“The German jumped out of his bunk directly on the lion, that leaped
out of the car through a window, taking the body of the Englishman with
him. I don’t know whether they got that lion or not, but if you think
there aren’t any wild animals near the railroad you have another guess.”
“Whew!” whistled Blake. “If it’s like that we may get pictures yet.”
“I guess so,” said Joe, but even this thought could not make him forget
his sister.
The trip to Mombasa was without incident, and they were soon dropping
anchor in that beautiful harbor. It is an ancient African city, and
the boys and their companions found many Englishmen there as well as
some of their own countrymen. They put up at a hotel, and on making
inquiries learned where best to apply to be fitted out for a trip into
the interior. They had, besides their personal baggage, their moving
picture cameras, and a considerable quantity of film.
“And now, since we know we may have a brush with the natives,” said
Joe, “we’ll have to get arms.”
“Yes, indeed,” agreed C. C. “And I want a heavy hunting rifle. I’m out
after big game, though it may get me----. Oh, I don’t mean that!” he
cried hastily. “I’m going to try not to be gloomy on this trip,” and he
smiled reassuringly.
Our friends were fortunate enough to obtain the services of a veteran
hunter and guide, a Sergeant Hotchkiss, who had fought in the Boer war.
He agreed to accompany them into the interior, and to arrange for a
safari once they reached Lake Nyanza.
“But you had better bargain for your provisions and supplies here,” he
said; “that is, all but the meat, which you will have to shoot as you
want it. You’re going to a good game country.”
This was done, and, about a week after arriving at Mombasa, Joe,
Blake and the little party took a train on the Uganda railroad, their
supplies, cameras, films and other things going with them.
“Off for the jungle!” cried Blake, as they pulled out of the station.
“Into the interior.”
“For Jessie and the wild animal pictures,” added Joe. “But it’s Jessie
first!”
“That’s right!” cried his father.