AN EXECUTION.
It proved that Trim was entirely right.
They passed several Massai villages during that forenoon’s march, but in
none of them were they interrupted in the least.
Trim told the men to push their donkeys on as fast as possible, for now
that he had time to think of it it struck him that the adventure with
these savages had a good deal of meaning for him.
The elder did not regard him as an ordinary traveler. The elder was quite
certain that he was going to find a man who would make trouble.
“Now what does that mean?” thought Trim. “These tribes see white
travelers once in a while. How can they learn to tell a trader or some
scientific explorer from a man who is going out on detective business?
“There’s only one explanation to it, and that is that Miller, while on
his way to the Narugas, warned the Massais that he might be pursued.
“If these savages have some kind of an arrangement with the Narugas, what
is more likely than that they would try to scare a pursuer back?
“We have got out of the trouble with them peacefully, but some of those
warriors who interfered with us first were evidently disappointed at the
orders to let us go on.
“Now it would not be at all surprising if one or two of those same
fellows should go ahead and warn the Narugas that we are coming.
“If the Narugas are really as desperate as the Kimberley police think, we
may have loads of trouble with them before we get through.”
This prophecy was well justified by later results, but the Narugas were
yet a long way off, and Trim found plenty to interest him before he
arrived at the borders of their territory.
On the second day after the adventure with the Massais they came to the
Orange River.
This river is one of the greatest in the world. It flows westward into
the Atlantic Ocean.
Trim’s men told him that a great deal of time and trouble would be saved
by floating down the river on rafts for somewhat more than a hundred
miles.
It would take him a little out of his course to do this, and yet it would
bring him to the borders of the Narugas’ territory.
It would save time because if he proceeded overland he would have to
cross several mountain ranges where there were no roads, and where the
climbing would be very difficult even for the well trained donkeys.
This seemed to Trim to be a sensible suggestion, especially as traveling
by raft is one of the common ways of journeying in Africa.
Accordingly, he went into camp there and during the rest of the day and a
part of the night he and his men worked at making two rafts.
It was not a very difficult matter, for the rafts consisted principally
of trees cut down, stripped of their branches, and bound together with
tough vines that grew along the banks of the river in abundance.
Less than a whole day was lost in this operation, and when the rafts were
done it was found that they would easily hold the entire party, donkeys
included.
The current of the river at that spot was not swift, and when the journey
was resumed the men had no difficulty at all in guiding the rafts by
means of poles so that they kept in mid stream and avoided rocks and
shallow places.
Later in the day they came to rapids, and there they had more trouble.
It was nothing of a very serious nature, but it required their men to
keep on the jump all the time in order to prevent the rafts from bumping
against rocks or being thrown against the banks of the river which there
was very crooked.
The most serious difficulty came when one of the donkeys was pitched
overboard as the second raft whirled rapidly around a big rock in the
very middle of the river.
Trim was on the first raft. He looked back when he heard the cries of his
men and saw the donkey struggling helplessly in the current.
The men were for letting the little beast go, but Trim thought
differently.
“Each donkey,” he said, “is of as much use as a man, and that one must be
saved.”
He accordingly steered his raft to shore and ordered the second one to
halt just below the rapids where the water ran smoothly. Then he waded
into the middle of the stream and waited for the donkey to come down to
him.
The frightened beast was struggling with the current trying desperately
to make for the shore, but being carried along by the force of the water
in spite of all he could do.
“If the little rascal could get his feet on the ground,” thought Trim,
“he’d get out.”
The donkey didn’t succeed in getting a foothold, and before long he came
tumbling along to where Trim stood waist deep waiting for him.
Trim caught the donkey around the neck and tried to drag him toward his
own raft near the shore.
The donkey evidently did not understand Trim’s plan, and more than that
he had a mind of his own, such as it was.
He brayed and bellowed while he kicked and struggled to get loose from
Trim’s clutch. The lad held on like death.
“Keep quiet, you idiot!” he shouted. “If you want to get drowned, this is
the surest way of doing it. Let me alone and I’ll get you out of this.”
It need not be said that the donkey did not understand these remarks.
Trim spoke just as any one will in dealing with animals, hardly conscious
of the fact that animals have no language.
He laughed even as he did so at the thought of the peculiar spectacle he
presented struggling in the middle of a river with a frightened donkey.
It had its funny side, but it was a hard struggle just the same, for
Mr. Donkey was bound that he would kick himself free and make for the
opposite shore, while Trim was equally determined that he should yield
and go to the raft.
In the course of the struggle the donkey’s head went under the surface.
When it came up his bray gurgled and he threw out two or three quarts of
water.
“Behave yourself!” roared Trim, who the next instant was carried under.
“I’ll bet a shillin’ on the donkey,” shouted Dobbin, who was howling with
laughter from his position on the raft near the shore.
“Even money on the man!” cried one of the whites who was on the other
raft further down stream.
“If you fellows would shut up your hollering and come out here,” shouted
Trim, “we might get the durned beast out of it.”
“I wouldn’t let a donkey duck me, not I,” cried Dobbin.
“That’s all right,” retorted Trim, “I’ll save the little rascal, see if I
don’t.”
Between the force of the current and the struggles of the donkey Trim
found it impossible to keep his footing or to make any progress toward
the shore.
He was being borne gradually, though steadily, down the stream. Meantime
the donkey did not cease his efforts to make for the other shore, and
Trim kept his arm around the beast’s neck as desperately as if his own
life depended on success.
So they went stumbling and slipping down stream until at length they were
at the bottom of the rapids and thus near the second raft.
One of the men there held out a pole to Trim which he grasped and so was
pulled alongside.
The water there was so deep that he could not touch bottom, and it was
useless to try to lift the donkey out. The only thing to do was to push
the raft into shallow water near shore.
This was done, and after not a little splashing and obstinate resistance
on the part of the donkey, the beast was finally hauled on board, where
he shook himself and uttered a long-drawn bray.
“That may mean joy because he got out,” said Trim, “but it certainly
doesn’t mean gratitude to me for saving him.”
Seeing how the affair was coming out, Dobbin had had the first raft
pushed from shore, and he was now abreast of the second.
“When we get to England, lad,” he cried, “I’ll have the humane society
give ee a brass medal for kindness to animals.”
“I’d be proud of it,” retorted Trim, as he leaped across to his own raft.
On the evening of that day they went into camp at a place where the river
was broad and where there was level land on each bank.
During the most of the journey they had been floating between rugged
mountains, and for many a mile they would have found it difficult to
make a landing.
Some distance down the river Trim saw smoke rising. One of his native
employees told him that there was a village there, and that the people
who lived in it had been beaten in war by the Narugas.
“The Narugas must be near by, then,” remarked Trim.
“Yes,” replied the black man, “they’re not very far away; in fact, you
might call this their land.”
“How so?”
“Because the tribe that live here, the Bangwas, are now under the power
of the Narugas.
“The Bangwas once upon a time were a powerful tribe, but there are not
many of them left now, and when they made war on the Narugas a few years
ago, they were badly beaten.
“It would have been possible for the Narugas to kill them all off, but
they didn’t do so; instead they allowed the chief to return to this
village, where he rules his tribe as if he were independent, but in
reality he is under control of the king of the Narugas.”
“I shall have to get acquainted with that chief,” thought Trim.
Aloud he said:
“Are the Bangwas peaceable toward white men?”
“Enough so,” was the reply. “They would make no resistance if we were
passing down the river, but it’s just as well that they shouldn’t see us
on land.
“If we stay in camp here through the night, we can pass their village
early to-morrow morning on the rafts without attracting their attention.”
Trim nodded and turned away. He had learned enough to convince him that
he ought to make an effort to see the Bangwas, for if they were under
the control of the Narugas it was almost certain that some of the latter
tribe would be in the village.
He said nothing to his companions about his thoughts, but after the camp
was quiet for the night he cautiously left it alone and started along the
bank of the river toward the distant village.
Before going he had taken the precaution to arrange his revolvers in his
sleeves.
Usually when traveling in the wilderness, Trim did not carry his
revolvers in this fashion, as they might have been in his way when it was
necessary to do rough work.
It seemed to him now that it would be well to be prepared for trouble
because it was more than likely that information about his approach
had been carried on ahead, either by Miller himself, or by some of the
Massais.
Although it was long after sundown when Trim set out, he had no
difficulty in locating the village of the Bangwas, for the savages had
built a huge fire which threw its light far up into the sky.
Trim approached it cautiously, for it struck him that the building of a
fire meant that some kind of celebration was in progress, and that all
the natives would be stirring.
He had no wish to be seen by them until he had had a chance to observe
them and make up his mind what he ought to do.
He found that the village was not built close to the river bank, but on
higher land two or three hundred yards away.
This, he learned later, was because the river overflowed its banks at
certain seasons of the year.
Between the village and the river there was a broad stretch of open land
from which all trees and bushes had been cleared away.
When Trim came to this he could see the fire at the head of this open
stretch, and he had no difficulty in distinguishing the forms of natives
who were circling slowly around it.
As they did so they kept up a strange kind of singing, accompanied by a
peculiar beating upon an instrument like a drum.
Trim supposed that this was some kind of religious ceremony.
For fear that the light of the fire would reveal him if he ventured
into the open space, he made his way toward the village through the
underbrush, always keeping near enough to the edge to see the fire.
He had come within a few rods of the fire and could not have gone much
further without entering the village itself, when the singing ceased.
The men who had been circling around the fire gathered in a group at one
side.
From one of the huts a savage, who was evidently their king, came out and
began to speak in a loud voice.
A moment later three or four others brought from another hut a man whose
hands were bound behind his back.
They made this man kneel before the king. The latter then continued his
speech, which the others interrupted occasionally with loud shouts.
At the end of the speech, all except the man who was kneeling waved
spears and clubs in the air.
Trim was very much interested. As yet he had no idea of the meaning of
this ceremony, but he had not long to wait before it was horribly clear.
After the spears and clubs had been waved and the men had shouted several
times, the king stepped back a few paces.
Trim could see that he was still engaged in looking on and directing
whatever work was in hand.
One of the men in the party dropped his spear and climbed a small tree
that grew not far from the fire.
Soon the tree began to shake and bend under his weight, and still the
man climbed up. The tree bent lower and lower until at last the man was
hanging to its topmost branches, his feet dangling downward.
His weight bent the tree double, and some of his companions reaching up,
caught him by the feet and pulled him down.
He still clung to the tree, so that its top was bent clear down to the
level of the ground.
Several others then laid hold of the tree and kept it from springing back
to its upright position.
Meantime the man who had been kneeling put his head forward upon the
ground and cried out in evident terror.
Trim, of course, could not understand the words used by the savages, but
it was very plain that this fellow was badly frightened.
While the savages were busy in bending the tree over, the frightened man
began to crawl toward the king.
The latter raised his arm, evidently as a signal, for several of the
others leaped upon the kneeling man and dragged him to the spot where
the top of the tree was held down.
For a moment, then, Trim could not see what was going on, because the
savages were gathered in such a thick group.
After a moment most of them near the treetop withdrew to the edge of the
fire, leaving only three or four of their companions and the kneeling man
by the treetop. Those who were left were evidently still holding the tree
down.
There was a moment of perfect silence. Then the king raised his arm again
and uttered one word in a terrible voice.
Immediately the men who were holding down the treetop sprung aside. At
the same moment Trim realized what was being done and was so horrified
and excited that he jumped from his concealment and began to go across
the open space toward the house.
He was too late. The tree sprung back to its upright position, carrying
with it the body of the man who had been kneeling.
A cord had been fastened about his neck and tied to the treetop. The
result of the operation was that his neck was broken.
Trim had witnessed an execution; whether of a criminal or simply of
someone who had displeased the king, or of some member of a neighboring
tribe, he could not tell.