A PRETTY DANCE.

It was not a feather-bed; there was neither bolster nor pillow; and a

single blanket laid across three sacks of Indian corn did not counteract

the hard nubbly feeling. But a couple more blankets drawn over the lad

right up to his chin thoroughly kept off the crisp coolness of the air

on the high plateau of a country where the sun was broiling by day.

Youth, health, exercise and an open-air life did the rest to make that

sleeping place a perfect Elysium.

Add to the above a long watch in the darkness, and it is not surprising

that as Mark Roche stretched out his legs to the fullest extent as he

lay upon his back, he uttered a low, long, soft "Hah-h-h!" and the next

instant was fast asleep.

How long that lasted he could not tell, but he half awoke; better still,

one may say he only one quarter awoke bodily; mentally he was so to

speak soaked, saturated with sleep, and his waking was only into a kind

of confusion out of which he could not rouse himself.

All he knew was that something was dreadfully wrong--when--how--where--

he could not make out.

There was a great noise going on, and the darkness was something

horrible. This seemed to last for a long time--seemed only, and he

began to struggle as if a heavy body was lying on him and pressing him

down.

It was like some terrible nightmare, and as he struggled against it he

threw out his arms, half fancying that he was fighting to save himself

from being suffocated in a flood that was not liquid but solid and hard.

Then one hand came in contact with something soft, which he realised to

be a human face, and then just a faint ray of understanding flashed

through his muddled brain and he knew where he was, and that the face

must be his cousin's.

Then the mental darkness closed in again and he was as confused as ever.

The noise went on, and he could not tell what it was till after a short

interval another ray of light dawned upon him and he caught at and shook

his companion, who was sharing the sacks, and sleeping so hard that

Mark's attempts to rouse him were in vain.

And then speech came, and the boy found himself muttering aloud, though

it seemed to be somebody else talking. But now the power to put that

and that together to some extent grew stronger.

"Oh, Dean, how you do sleep!" came from somewhere. "Here, wake up!"

And he grew a little better, for he felt that his lips were touching his

cousin's warm ear, while now it was another voice that said drowsily,

"What's the matter?"

"Ah! that's better," the other voice ejaculated, and he heard it

plainly, though it was partially smothered by the awful confusion of

strange sounds that came as it were from a distance. "Oh, how dark!"

And he knew now that it was his own voice, for he was rapidly shaking

off the strange feeling of mental torpidity.

"Father! Dr Robertson! Are you there?"

His words came back to him as if his face was covered with something

thick, while he fully grasped the idea now that the noise that smote his

ears was somewhere far away.

"I don't know what's the matter," he muttered. "Am I ill? It can't be

a dream. Here, Dean, wake up!"

"What's the matter?" came again drowsily.

"I want you to listen."

"Bother! Will in the morning."

"Oh, how can you be so stupid!"

Mark was rapidly recovering now.

_Snore_!

"Will you wake up?" And this was accompanied by a shake.

"Be quiet! Want me to hit you on the nose?"

"Yes, and I want you to shake me. I'm--I'm--oh, I don't know how I

feel--yes, I do," added the boy, as the power of thinking and acting now

grew stronger. "Dean!"

"Oh, bother!" cried his cousin. "Now then, what is it?" And in the

darkness Mark felt his hand shaken off, and from the movement knew that

his cousin had risen up into a sitting position sharply and banged

himself down again, the noise he made being followed instantly by a loud

snore.

"Dean!" cried Mark again, renewing his attack, and this time giving the

sleeper a violent shake, which roused him again.

"Now then, what is it?"

"Listen! Do you hear that dreadful noise?"

"No-o!" came sleepily. "What is it?"

The question was asked through two folds of blanket, and naturally

sounded woolly.

"Lions, I think."

"Tell them to lie down."

"Oh, don't be such a fool!"

"Nogoinabe. Wha' time is it? Goo' night."

"Dozey! Oh, you sleepy old dormouse! I am sure there is something

dreadful going on. We are in danger."

"Lem dange. Here, tell the doctor. Don' wake uncle, nor me."

"Oh, dear, what shall I do!" said Mark, half aloud. "Oh, my head! My

head! This must be--yes, I remember; I am in the waggon--here, Dean!

Dean!" And he began shaking his cousin again.

"Don't! Don't!" And there was the sound of the boy's bare feet

kicking, and a snatch made as if to draw back the blankets that had been

sent flying. "Oh, I will serve you out for--here, what do you want?"

"You to wake up. Can't you see how dark it is?"

"Dark?"

"Yes; quite black."

Dean was wide awake now.

"Yes, everything's as black as black."

"Well, did you expect it to be white?"

"Can't you hear that dreadful noise?"

"Yes. What is it? Oh, I am so sleepy! Uncle snoring."

"There it is again!" cried Mark wildly.

"Well, I don't care," cried Dean angrily, and he dragged his blankets

over his head. "Hullo! I say! There's something the matter;" and the

boy now rose to his knees. "Here, where are the guns?"

"I don't know. Yes, I do," cried Mark, feeling about. "I have got

one--yes--here's yours. Let's get to the door."

"No, stop. Listen!" and Dean caught his cousin by the arm. "It's a

lion. I'm sure of it."

"So am I," cried Mark--"a dozen of them. Oh, Dean, Dean! Hark at the

poor bullocks! They are pulling them down, and they'll be killing those

ponies. Here, let go."

"What are you going to do?"

"Going outside to shoot."

"No, no; don't do that, or we shall have them springing in here."

"But--"

"There, you needn't go now. There's somebody else shooting." For a

couple of reports came from somewhere in the direction of where the fire

kept burning, and then another, followed by a confused noise of

bellowing oxen, trampling feet, and the deep-toned, barking roar of a

lion, which dominated everything else.

"Here, Mark," cried Dean in a hoarse whisper, clinging to his cousin now

tightly, "we are attacked by lions."

"Seems like it," was the reply. "Where are father and the doctor?"

"I don't know. I would say let's shout, only it would be like asking

the savage animals to come."

"But we must do something. Are you loaded?" And as Mark spoke there

was the sound of his raising the cocks of his piece.

"No. My hand shakes so. That's better. I could hardly do it. I say,

don't you feel frightened, Mark?"

"Horribly. But look sharp. Are you ready? Let's jump out together,

and then fire."

"All right. Ready now. I wish I didn't feel in such a shiver. Here,

I'm ready. Perhaps it will scare the brutes."

"Hope so," said Mark, as he drew aside the folds of the tilt and

crouched by the waggon chest ready to spring. "Hooray! There's

somebody shouting. Now then; take hold of my hand. Let's jump

together."

There was a double thud, as the boys sprang out into the darkness.

"Now then--ready?"

"Yes," cried Dean, firmly now, as soon as he had made his desperate

plunge into danger.

"Fire!"

_Bang! Bang_!

"Again!" cried Mark, and directly after there was the repetition of the

reports and the rustling sound of replacing the empty cartridges.

"Hi, there!" came in a voice from out of the darkness, sounding distant.

"Is that you boys?"

"Yes, doctor," cried Mark. "Where's father?"

"Here, my boy. Where's your cousin?"

"I'm here, uncle."

"Good. But you two fellows ought to have stopped in the waggon."

Directly after Sir James and the doctor joined them, and a couple more

shots came from a distance, in the direction where the thundering beat

of hoofs was beginning to die away, and then shots again, followed by a

hideous snarling and roaring, as if very near at hand several lions were

quarrelling like angry cats over their prey.

"Ahoy, there!" shouted the doctor.

"Ahoy!" came from two places in the distance.

"Rally here," cried the doctor, as loud as he could shout. "Up here by

the waggon!"

This was followed by the beating of feet upon the thick grass, and all

the time the trampling of oxen grew more distant, while the savage

snarling went on and was punctuated in the darkness every now and then

by a deep-toned bark.

"This way," cried the doctor. "Come on!"

The boys' hearts beat hard at this, for the doctor's words were answered

by a chorus of snarls from what Mark judged now to be a portion of the

forest not many yards away; and involuntarily the boys raised their

rifles to their shoulders as they glanced to right and left, trying to

make out through the darkness whether the way was clear for a shot.

"Hadn't we better fire again, father?"

"No," said the doctor sharply, from close at hand. "The men are

rallying, and we may hit somebody."

"Yes," said Sir James quickly.

"And besides," continued the doctor, "if we fire at where that snarling

comes from it will be answered by a rush. The brutes can see in this

horrid darkness."

"What are they doing?" asked Dean.

"They have pulled down a bullock, boys, and they are quarrelling over

it. Can't you hear? Oh, this darkness!" cried the speaker, and he

gave--so the sound indicated--a stamp of one foot.

"Is the boss there?" cried a gruff voice.

"Yes, this way, Denham," said the doctor. "Mind the lions."

"Oh, I hear them, sir. Anyone hurt?"

"I hope not," replied the doctor, as the man came nearer, rustling

through the grass. "Where are your men?"

_Oomph! Oomph! Oomph_! came in a deep-toned roar, followed by a chorus

of snarls.

"Old 'uns and young 'uns," said Denham, subduing his voice a little.

"They don't like our being so near. I expect my chaps have shinned up

the trees somewhere. That's what they would do, gentlemen; and old

Brown has used those long legs of his to put him miles away by this

time."

"But have you heard anything of my two men?" asked Sir James--"Dance and

Bacon?"

"I've 'eard them letting go with their rifles, sir."

"And what about Dan?"

"Oh, I haven't heard anything of him, sir."

"Ahoy!" came in the little sailor's well known voice, from somewhere in

the darkness.

"Ahoy!" cried the boys together.

_Roo--oomph_! _Roo--oomph_! _Roo--oomph_! issued from the spot that

had now grown familiar.

"Steady, gentlemen--steady! All cats have got the savage on strong when

they are at work at their grub. Wait a bit. Let's get the others

together, and then we'll give the brutes a volley as near as we can."

"Cooey! Cooey!" came out of the darkness.

"This way! Here!" shouted Buck Denham.

_Roo--oomph_! _Roo--oomph_! _Roo--oomph_! came now, with a fiercer

roar than ever, which roused the lion's companions to utter a furious

burst of snarls.

"Cooey! Cooey!" came again.

"All right, mate," said the big driver, in a low voice. "You must find

your own way now. That last bit of tongue meant, look out for squalls."

"Anybody hurt?" came in a well known voice now from close at hand, and

Dan hurried up.

"I think not, Dan," whispered Mark, and then he stretched out his hand

and felt for the little sailor. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir. I fired off all my cartridges."

"Here's someone else coming, gentlemen," said Denham, in a low, deep

tone. "They are your two lads, I think."

"Yes," cried Dean eagerly. "Nobody else would have cried cooey, unless

it was little Dan."

"Yes, I might, but I didn't to-night; I have been too busy."

"That you, Peter. Where's Bob Bacon?"

"Me, Mr Mark, sir?" said the latter. "Here I am, as large as life. We

have been at it pretty warm. But I want it to grow light, to see if we

can retrieve any of the game."

"Yah! Ain't 'it anything," growled Buck Denham.

"But where's Peter? I heard two cooeys," said Mark.

"Yes; that was me, sir. I ain't seen him."

"Well, now then, gentlemen," said Buck Denham; "all loaded?"

"'Cept me," said Dan.

"Take these. Here are some cartridges," said Sir James.

"Now then--ready?" said Denham, quite loudly, and there was another

burst of roars and snarls. "Thank ye," said Denham; "that's just let us

know where abouts to fire. Now, all of you let them have it, as near as

you can guess; and fire low. I'd kneel down. I'll just give them a

rouse up with a shout. That will make them roar again. Then you,

doctor, give the word, and let 'em have it."

"Right," said the doctor.

"Ready, my lads?" whispered Buck.

There was a low murmur of assent, and the driver put one hand to his

cheek. "Hullo, there, you!"

_Er_--_rr_--_oomph_! came in a roar, followed by a snarl; and this time

there was a sharp crackling of bushes, as one of the savage beasts made

a bound towards them.

It was all guess work, but the volley fired at the advancing brute was

followed by a roar from several feline throats and a struggling plunge

and trampling amidst the undergrowth, with a fiercer snarling than ever.

"Load again quickly," said the doctor, "and stand firm, my lads."

"Ay, we've got to," added Denham. "I was in hopes that those shots

would have scared them; but one of them has got it pretty warm." For

the violent kicking and tearing amidst the bushes went on, supplemented

by the snarling and growling of the hidden beasts.

"How long is it to morning?" asked the doctor in a whisper.

"Good two hours, I should say, sir."

"Then we had better retreat to the waggons before the savage brutes take

courage and come on at us."

"They won't attack, sir, as long as they have got that bullock there,

unless we go near. Now, if we had only got a light we could rouse up

that fire--hullo!"

For all at once, as if the man's words had been heard, there was a soft

crackling amidst the embers where the fire should have been blazing, and

faintly illuminated by a glow from the earth, the watchers caught sight

of the face of the Illaka, looking strange and ruddy, while as the black

stirred up the ashes with the haft of his spear there was enough life in

them to emit a bluish golden flame which caught the twigs he threw on.

The light cast upon him increased, and in a few minutes he had augmented

the fire by throwing on armfuls of wood, till there was a fierce blaze

which lit up the edge of the forest and made the waggons and their tilts

show up as if of gold.

"Well done, Mak!" cried Denham. "That will do more than all our

shooting. More wood--all you can."

The black understood him, and as snarl after snarl came from out of the

forest the dry wood blazed up and the growling grew less and less.

"They're a-sneaking off, sir," said the big driver, "and I think you

might give them another shot or two to hurry them."

"All together," said the doctor sharply. "Ready! Fire!"

The flashes from the mouths of the rifles looked slight in the glow of

the flames, and the reports rang out loudly, to be followed by a fierce

yell and a snarling roar, as, feeling awestricken by what was taking

place, the boys pictured to themselves amidst the low growth the huge

lion tearing about in its rage and pain.

"I'd keep quiet, gentlemen," whispered Buck. "One of us has hit

another, and if he made out where we were he might charge."

The man ceased speaking as the tearing and raging about of the wounded

beasts went on, but evidently growing more distant, till their snapping

and snarling were almost drowned by the fierce, loud crackling of the

burning fire.

"It's crawling away," whispered Mark excitedly.

"Yes, sir. He's got it," replied the driver; "but I would keep quiet,

or we may bring him back to pay us."

For some minutes no one spoke, while the fire was freshly fed by the

black, who looked almost diabolical as he danced about it in a strange

way, ending by approaching the group, who crouched behind some bushes,

which would have made but a frail breastwork had one of the lions

charged.

A quarter of an hour must have elapsed before anyone spoke again, and

during that time the crackling of the burning wood, which now lit up a

wide circle, was the only sound that was heard.

"Do you think we may move now, Denham?" said the doctor. "Or would you

fire a few more charges?"

"I don't want to waste powder and shot, sir, and I think they are all

gone. Here, Mak, my lad, lions gone?"

The black made no reply, but came cautiously close up and listened.

"Come," he said, and in obedience to his brief command Buck, the doctor,

and Bob Bacon ranged themselves with presented rifles on either side,

and, not to be outdone, the two boys ran forward to join the advancing

party as well.

The spot where the feline marauders had been busy over their prey was

not above sixty yards from the last waggon, and as the little party

advanced, gaining confidence from the silence that reigned, and reducing

the distance to about half, gazing searchingly the while at what looked

like a breastwork of leaves lit up by the fire, the silence seemed to be

awful, and as if moved by one impulse all stopped short at the end of

another ten yards.

"Must be gone, I think, gentlemen," whispered Buck; "but be ready to

fire, for they are treacherous beasts, and one may be lying there badly

wounded but with life enough in him to do mischief after all."

"Hadn't we better wait till daylight?" whispered the doctor.

"It will mean so long, sir," said the driver, rather gruffly. "I think

we might risk it now, Mak," he cried, and he added a few words in the

black's dialect. "He's willing, gentlemen," said the driver quietly.

"Let's all go on again."

Then slowly and cautiously the little line advanced, till all at once

the black stopped, holding his spear point low and the haft pressed into

the ground, for there was a savage roar, and a huge lion, which looked

golden, made a tremendous bound right out into the light.

Dean uttered a cry, and the brute couched, snarling fiercely, with the

boy lying beneath the monster's outstretched paws.

Dead Man's Land Being the Voyage to Zimbambangwe of certain and uncertain blacks and whites · 第 27 / 87 题