SIBENGA'S ENVOYS
FOR the next few weeks the chums were kept busily employed in
getting accustomed to their new surroundings. Armed with remarkably
accurate maps--relics of German occupation and characteristic of the
military thoroughness with which the cartographers worked--they
explored the rocky valley of the Rubera, a small and swiftly flowing
river that maintained a full head of water even in the dry season.
They visited the neighbouring kraals, climbed the rugged mountains
that separated Kilembonga from the forest-covered basin of the Upper
Nile and the untrodden wastes drained by the mysterious Congo.
They shot _wildebeeste_ for food and crocodiles and vultures because
they were enemies to man. Lions and rhinoceri they did not
encounter, and perhaps it was as well in the earlier stages in their
careers as sportsmen.
Their belongings had arrived safely, although the ox-waggon had been
delayed for three days by a thunderstorm that had converted the
rough road into an impassable morass, and they now had their own
rifles and a fair amount of ammunition.
The life was strenuous, adventurous in a small degree, and healthy,
and within a few days of Tiny's arrival at Kilembonga the irritating
cough had practically disappeared.
One morning, when Colin and Tiny were up early with the intention of
riding over to a native kraal to hire additional labourers, the lads
were rather surprised to find six fully armed natives squatting on
the ground dust outside the entrance gate of the stockade.
The men were attired similarly to the Matabele and Zulus. Each wore
a head-ring, leopard-skin kaross, and loin cloth, while round ankles
and wrists they sported rings bristling with feathers. Each carried
a cow-hide shield, knobkerrie, stabbing-spear, and a sheaf of
throwing assegais. Upon seeing Colin and Tiny the men sprang to
their feet, their leader making "konza" or salutation.
"See what they want, Tenpenny Nail," ordered Colin, who knew that
the Kruman had a smattering of the local dialects.
Tenpenny Nail, who never forgot that he had been a full corporal in
a crack Haussa regiment, went up to the natives in a determined and
authoritative manner, and a heated interview resulted.
Presently he reported to his master that the men were from Sibenga's
Kraal, and had been sent to ask for the return of the four horses
lent by the chief to Colonel Narfield on the memorable journey from
Tabora.
"That's knocked our early morning excursion on the head, Tiny,"
declared Colin. "We'll have to inform Colonel Narfield, although I
know for certain the horses were returned."
"Keep 'em long time wait, Massa Sinclair," suggested Tenpenny Nail.
"If you gib de word I put 'em in clink one-time sharp."
Colin knew that Colonel Narfield was still asleep and that he was
recovering from a slight attack of intermittent malaria. Also the
lad had been long enough in East Africa to know that one way to
impress the natives was to keep them waiting.
"Tell them to stop where they are, Tenpenny Nail," he ordered. "When
the Great One thinks fit he will receive Sibenga's people."
The two chums and their Kruman servants went outside the stockade.
The door was secured in order to keep the light-fingered natives
from pilfering. Then, having seen their horses stabled, they went
into the house and knocked at the door of Colonel Narfield's room.
"Some roguery here," decided Herbert Narfield, when Colin had
explained the reason for the deputation's presence without. "The
horses were sent back the morning following, and Sibenga's men who
came with us were given presents to take to their master. Right-o,
Colin; I'll see the beggars. Tell Blue Fly and Tenpenny Nail to
admit them after they've left their arms outside the gate."
Leaving Colonel Narfield to complete his toilet, the two chums gave
the necessary instructions to the Krumen.
A hotly-worded encounter ensued; the deputation being reluctant to
be deprived of their weapons, while Tenpenny Nail was equally
emphatic that they must do so. Neither side being disposed to give
in, the Kruman told them in barrack-room English to clear out and
shut the gate in their faces.
Sibenga's deputation were now on the horns of a dilemma. They dare
not return to their chief without having delivered his message, and
the door was shut to them unless they laid aside their arms.
At last, considerably chastened, they shouted to the Haussa to open
to them, and that they would leave their spears and shields on the
ground outside the stockade.
"Does Sibenga dare to suggest that I am a thief and have stolen his
horses?" demanded Colonel Narfield sternly.
"Are there no thieves amongst the white men?" asked the leader of
the deputation, answering one question by another. "Only one moon
ago a white man who has a tree for a leg stole three oxen from
Elyaui Kraal."
"Then perhaps he stole Sibenga's horses," suggested Colonel
Narfield. "And the men who came here with the animals; have they
returned?"
"Great One, they have not," was the reply. Herbert Narfield looked
grave at the information. He could only conclude that the men had
bolted, taking with them the presents he had sent to Sibenga.
"The chief Sibenga ordered us to make sure," declared the spokesman
pointedly, after the Colonel had expressed his surprise in words.
"So that was why you came armed? If your master does not want to
lose six more men he had better not send them here with assegais and
shields, for they will be instantly struck down with the white man's
magic. Nevertheless, not because Sibenga says you must, but because
I am willing to allow it, a search may be made here for the missing
horses."
The deputation, shepherded by Tinned Salmon, Colonel Narfield's
personal servant, made a tour of the outbuildings, but to their
obvious disappointment, no animals that resembled the horses from
Sibenga's Kraal were to be found.
Colonel Narfield, Colin, and Tiny met the natives outside his
laboratory, which the latter also showed a desire to explore.
"Now, Mouth of Sibenga," said the Colonel, addressing the head of
the deputation. "You see I have spoken the word. Before you depart
you, too, might like a gift."
He displayed a silvered steel concave mirror set in an ornamental
copper frame--a tawdry article that finds a ready sale amongst
savages. The headman's features broke into a grin of childish
anticipation.
"Very well," continued Colonel Narfield. "You can have it if you can
take it out of this bowl of water."
So saying, he placed the mirror in water and stood aside. With every
sign of eagerness the native plunged his hand into the water, only
to withdraw it with a yell of pain and surprise.
"Hau! It is bewitched!" exclaimed the headman. "This is the White
Man's Magic."
"What! Are you afraid?" asked the Englishman, mockingly. "Are there
no followers of Sibenga who will try?"
After a considerable amount of hesitation a second native plunged
his hand into the water. He withdrew his hand quicker than he had
inserted it, and began running round in circles, yelling in terror.
"You call yourselves warriors?" cried Colonel Narfield scornfully.
"You have hearts like chickens. Will no one else try?"
A third native began very gingerly to touch the surface of the
water. Nothing happening, he summoned up courage and dipped his hand
until the water was almost up to his wrist, and his finger tips were
within two inches of the coveted mirror. Then he, too, gave a yell
and abandoned the attempt.
"Now," continued Herbert Narfield, "you see something of the White
Man's Magic. Even your greatest witch-doctors are unable to fight
it. If any man comes to my kraal with evil intent he will be struck
down with the same magic as three of you have felt .... Colin,
you've that swastika on you, haven't you?" he added. "Bring it out
and touch the water with it."
Sinclair did so. At the sight of the amulet the superstitious
delegates were visibly impressed. Still more so were they when Colin
unconcernedly drew the looking glass from the bowl of water and
immediately replaced it.
"Now try again," invited Colonel Narfield, addressing the headman.
"We have quelled the magic spirit of the water. You will be no
longer in peril. Take out the gift." It was quite a long time before
the native could master sufficient courage to renew the attempt.
Trembling in every limb, he cautiously dipped his finger in the
innocuous liquid and quickly withdrew it. Satisfying himself that so
far the Great One's word was truth, he thrust in his hand and
triumphantly obtained possession of the mirror.
"Hau!" he exclaimed. "The magic is eaten up. There is no longer
anything to be feared. Perhaps, O Great One," he added darkly, "the
magic that surrounds your kraal may likewise be dispersed. See, I
place my hand in the water again. It--oh! oh! oh!"
Literally beside himself with fear, the headman took to his heels,
ran across the courtyard, and disappeared through the gate of the
stockade.
His panic was infectious, his companions also bolting in terror.
Outside the fence they stopped only to recover their weapons, and
then at a terrific pace they disappeared along the rough track
leading to Sibenga's Kraal.
"Another example of 'Electricity in the Service of Man,'" remarked
Herbert Narfield as he proceeded to disconnect the wires attached to
the jar of water and a powerful battery. "So the old lab. at
Stockmere proved a sound thing, eh, Colin? But I am afraid," he
added gravely, "we haven't heard the last of Sibenga and his missing
horses. We'll have to keep our weather eye lifting, or some night
the old reprobate will ply his people with stiff doses of native
beer and send them down to Kilembonga to do a bit of Bolshevik
work."
"Fighting?" asked Tiny.
"Hardly--perhaps, though. At any rate they'll probably try to fire
the buildings and stampede the cattle. Just at present they've got
the wind up pretty badly."
"By Jove!" exclaimed Colin, looking along the track. "There is a
weird-looking fellow coming this way. What mischief is he up to?"