In utter weariness the two boys now stood their guns up against the
nearest trees and let themselves sink together upon the thin bed of
moist leaves that had not been eaten up, as it were, by the root action
of the trees, glad of the relief to their now weary limbs, and for some
time they sat in the silent darkness, utterly stunned--minutes and
minutes, possibly half an hour, before Mark started to his feet, and,
nerved by his cousin's movement, Dean followed his example.
"Hear someone coming?" he cried, in a hoarse whisper.
"No!" raged out Mark.
"What are you going to do, then?"
"What we ought to have done hours ago. We must have been asleep."
"Asleep! No."
"Well, our brains must have been. There, catch hold of your gun."
As the boy spoke he seized his own by the stock, held it up with one
hand as high as he could, and fired, with the sound thrown back as their
voices had been by the trees. Then they sat and listened.
"Shall I fire?" asked Dean, at last.
"No; wait a few minutes;" and Mark rested his piece which he had
discharged upon a projecting buttress-like root of the nearest tree.
"Hah! What's that?" cried Dean excitedly.
"That" was the soft pat, pat, of a bare foot upon the moist, leaf-strewn
earth, and showing his white teeth in a satisfied grin, Mak glided into
their sight and tapped each of the lads' extended hands.
"Come," he said quickly. "Come 'long."
Both tried to answer, but no words would come, and trying hard to shake
off the emotion which troubled them, they followed their rescuer as he
regularly glided in and out amongst the trees, till all at once they
were standing in a small circular clearing not twenty yards across, and
there they involuntarily stopped short, staring in wonderment at the
dimly pictured scene that greeted their weary eyes.
After what the boys had gone through it seemed something dream-like, and
they were ready to fancy that in that terrible dark forest they had
stumbled upon some strange abode of the fabulous gnomes or kobolds
described by the old German romanticists as being the haunting
inhabitants of the mines and cavernous underground regions.
As the two lads followed their guide into almost nocturnal darkness they
became aware of the fact that they were surrounded by some
five-and-thirty little beings, not one of whom seemed to stand above
four feet high. There was nothing dwarf-like about them, or sign of
deformity, for they were comparatively slight, though muscular and in
every way well built.
Their appearance was threatening, for each man amongst them was half
sheltering himself behind a tree, and standing holding a little bow with
arrow having its neck in the string and drawn nearly to the head as if
ready to let fly at the white strangers.
The two boys stopped short, involuntarily raising their rifles ready to
fire, and in the quick glance Mark swept round the little arboreal
circus he caught sight of as many more of the little people, much
smaller and slighter, as they cowered behind their companions.
It was a swift glance, but sharp enough for the boy to realise that
those were the women companions of the little men.
"Shall we fire?" whispered Dean.
"No; don't."
"But they mean fighting."
"Frightened of us," said Mark quickly. "Look, they are quite friendly
towards Mak."
For the big, shapely Illaka was stalking about here and there, and as he
passed each little warrior with drawn bow, the little fellow lowered his
weapon and looked up at the spear-armed giant as if he were their king.
"Not hurt," cried Mak, and he stepped lightly about, pointing with his
spear at first one and then another of the little black tribe. "Come,
look," he shouted; and the boys shouldered their pieces, while Mak
pointed with his spear to first one and then another, and then stopped
to pat them on the back. "Mark, look," he said; "Dean, look!" And he
took hold of one of them by the arm and turned him round as if to show
him off as a curious specimen of humanity, while the little fellow
submitted with a calm look of sufferance and submission.
Mak seemed never tired of showing off his find, and ended by stretching
out his strong arm and catching at and dragging forward one of the tiny
women, who shrank trembling as she cowered and gazed up at the to her
huge giant who was treating her as a prisoner.
The tiny woman's companions looked on solemnly and made no sign of
resistance, while the Illaka cropped on one knee and drew his little
prisoner towards tie two boys, who looked on, full of curiosity, Mak's
captive shrinking and trembling as he reached out for Mark's hand and
made him, willingly enough, pat the little silent creature on the head
and back.
"Dean," he cried, and he extended his hand for him to administer the
same friendly touches, after which the tiny woman shrank away into
hiding again.
"Now come," cried Mak, and as if he belonged to the little tribe, he led
the way a little farther into the forest, followed slowly by some of the
child-like men, to where it was evident they formed their sleeping camp
and prepared their food.
Here nestling in a hole which was lined with the skins of two or three
of the native bucks, Mak pointed out with his spear one of the dwarfs
who was cowering shrinkingly down so that the young travellers could see
little of him but his flashing eyes.
"Mark look," said the black sharply, and taking hold of the little
fellow by the wrist he gently drew him partly out of his skin bed,
uttering a curious whimpering sound as if he were in pain.
"Don't hurt him, Mak," cried Dean.
"Look, Dean; see," and he pointed to the little fellow's arm and
shoulder, and as Mark bent down, not understanding fully in the shadow
what their guide meant, it suddenly dawned upon him that the poor little
fellow, who was terribly emaciated, had evidently been mauled by some
savage beast, his little wasted left arm and shoulder being in a
terrible, almost loathsome, state.
"Look, Dean," cried Mark, shrinking with disgust, which he overcame
directly, and handing his rifle to his cousin he went down on one knee,
with three or four of the little tribe looking on, wonderingly, but all
with a grave, solemn seriousness of aspect, while Mark took out a
handkerchief from his breast and spread it tenderly over the fearful
festering wound.
"Isn't it horrible!" he said, turning up his head to speak to his
cousin, but encountering the bent over face of the illaka looking on
approvingly.
"Good--boy," he said solemnly. "Mark good."
The last traces of the look of disgust passed from Mark's face, and he
laughed merrily at the black.
"I say, Dean, I have lost my handkerchief, but I have got a good
character. But, poor little beggar, that will kill him. Still, I
shouldn't have liked to have missed seeing these people. Who would ever
have thought there were any like them in the world!"
"It makes up for our being scared," said Dean quietly; "but I didn't
like seeing this. It was so horrible. There, there's no occasion to be
afraid of their bows and arrows now."
"I wasn't before," said Mark, "after seeing how cool Mak was amongst
them. Now then, we want to go. Waggon--dinner;" and the boy pointed
with his rifle, which had just been handed to him by his cousin.
Mak nodded as if he fully understood, and shouldering his spear he
marched back to the little circus, now followed by an increasing train
of the pigmies, whose eyes gazed at their visitors with a sort of
reverence; and Mark noted that the sinew strings of their little bows
were slackened as they followed them amongst the trees and out to the
edge of the forest, which seemed to offer no obstacle to Mak, who would
probably have found it without difficulty, though in this case a couple
of the tiny blacks trotted before them and then stopped at the very
edge, to gaze wistfully after them till they were out of sight.
"Why, boys," cried Sir James, "where have you been? We should have been
quite alarmed, only we knew that you had Mak with you."