The kopjes with their supposed buildings proved to be farther away than
was expected, and a halt was made at night at the first of the outlying
piles of tree overgrown stones, while it was the middle of the next day
before their goal was reached. A regular halt was made at a very chaos
of stones, some being evidently artificially built up after the fashion
of walls huge in size, but so overwhelmed, as it were, by a wave of
ancient verdure, and dragged down by the wonderfully abundant growth of
vines and creepers, that it was difficult to tell which were the stones
that had been piled together and which formed part of the nature-erected
kopje.
"Well, doctor," said Sir James, later on, "what do you think of this?"
"Grand," was the reply. "Even if there were nothing more than we can
see now, this place would be full of interest."
"Do you really think that this is the place of which we have heard?"
"It must be," said the doctor; "and it is proved by what we can gather
from these two blacks."
"Yes," cried Mark excitedly; "and it is there the pigmy obtained his
gold."
"Yes, boy. Those ornaments were never made by people in such a savage
state as he is. Well, the first thing to do is to settle down here and
make as strong a camp as we can."
"Just here?" said Sir James.
"Certainly, for the present. We may no doubt find later on some old
temple or other building that we can add to, but for the time being we
must contrive a kraal where we can set dangerous visitors to our cattle
quite at defiance."
"But you talk about temples," said Sir James. "Do you really think
there are more buildings here than we can see?"
"My dear sir," cried the doctor, "I just climbed up fifty or sixty feet
amongst the masses of rock, and as far as I can see in three directions
there seems to be quite a wilderness of natural and artificial ruins."
"Then what do you propose?" said Sir James.
"To have the waggons drawn up across that opening that lies between
those two walls."
"Walls!" said Mark. "You mean that ravine of old stones that looks like
a split made by an earthquake."
"My dear boy," said the doctor enthusiastically, "that earthquake, as
you call it, I am sure was caused by men. What we see across there are
two walls."
"Well, they don't look like it," said Dean.
"Not as they are, boy," said the doctor, "crumbled, grown over, and in
utter ruins; but I have had a look long enough to satisfy me that all
this was built up--perhaps thousands of years ago. We can prove all
that by-and-by. I want to see everyone at work making what will be an
easy task--a strongly fortified little camp into which no lions can
break and we can sleep in peace."
"Yes," said Sir James; "those are the words of wisdom, boys, and we
shan't have to go far for our materials. But I don't see any water."
"We did, father," cried Mark. "Mak took us over those piles--oh, not
above fifty yards--and in what seemed to be a gully there was a
beautiful river of water running along at the foot of a precipice."
"Well, it wasn't a precipice," said Dean. "We were looking down upon it
from the top of what if it had been built up we should call a wall; but
I think it's the side of a kopje."
"Never mind what it was," said the doctor, "so long as the water was
there. We might have known that the black would not select a place
without a supply. Now then, I think we can make a very good temporary
shelter before it grows dark in the place I have pointed out, for it is
one that we can go on improving by degrees."
Under the doctor's instructions everyone set to work with a will; a shot
or two was fired to scare away any undesirable lurking beasts, with the
result that the reports went echoing away amongst the rocks with many a
strange reverberation, and then the ponies and bullocks were driven into
the undergrowth to browse, while the men set to hacking and chopping
with axe and billhook, Dan proving himself an adept at twisting up tough
willow-like wands to form bands which the two keepers utilised for
securing the faggots; till Buck cried "Hold! enough!" Then Dan started
a fire in the shelter of a pile of stones, and when that was blazing
well and heating water and cooking meat, the rest blocked up an opening
here, heaped up thorns there, and by means of sharp pegs and a cloth or
two contrived a covered-in shed for the men against what might have been
an old wall, but looked like an almost perpendicular bank of rock.
The evening closed in upon them with its threats of total darkness,
their surroundings making their position the more secure from the
numbers of towering trees that sheltered them in almost every direction.
The cattle were driven in near to where the fire was blazing, every
branch that was thrown upon it having been selected with the idea of
clearing a wider space where progress was literally choked up by the
wealth of growth everywhere around.
"For I never see such a place, Mr Mark, sir," said Bob. "Seems to me
as if this is where the world was finished, and where all as warn't
wanted was chucked in a heap."
"I know what I should like," said Peter Dance.
"What, mate?" asked Bob.
"Why, to set our Mak making a lot of basket coops."
"What for?" cried Mark.
"What for, sir? Why, if you stopped here and give me the chance and a
few dozen sittings of eggs I could show you some pheasant shooting in a
year's time. But I suppose I shan't have the chance to make that big
chap a bit useful. He arn't got a mossel of work in him."
"What, Mak?" cried Mark merrily. "But see what a splendid fellow he is
to look on."
"Oh, yes, he can look on, sir. But I could do that, easy."
"And guide?" said Mark. "But you couldn't do that, Peter."
"Well, but I arn't had no practice, sir."
"And find water for camping by," continued Mark.
"Yes, sir, he can do that."
"And you said yourself the other day that he could track the bucks
splendidly."
"Yes, sir. You see, he's used to it."
"And we have never wanted for game since we have come to Africa."
"That we haven't, sir," said Bob Bacon.
"Then he is some use, after all," cried Mark.
That night, with their strange surroundings wonderfully illuminated by
the glowing fire, and a feeling of safety infused by the knowledge that
the doctor and Buck Denham were their well armed watch, all slept off
their weariness soundly and well.
There were two little interruptions to their rest, one of which Mark, as
he was awakened, knew at once to be the barking roar of a lion far out
upon the plain; but he dropped off to sleep directly, and the next one
to rouse up suddenly was Dean, who found himself gazing at the doctor
standing full in the light cast by the fire, and who at a word from the
boy came slowly up to his side.
"What is it?" he said. "Well, Dean, I am rather puzzled myself. The
cries were those of a drove of some animals, but I don't think they were
either hyaenas or jackals. Whatever they were, they were scared by the
fire, and--there, you can hear them going farther and farther away among
the ruins. I could almost fancy it was a pack of some kind of dogs
hunting. There, go back to your blanket. The air's quite cool, and I
was glad to come closer to the fire for a warm. Get to sleep again, for
I want to explore as much as we can to-morrow. The more I think, the
more sure I feel that we have hit upon a very wonderful place, and I am
longing for the morning and breakfast, so that we can start for our
exploration and see what there is to see."
"Do you think we shall be able to go all over the ruins to-morrow, sir?"
asked Dean.
"No, my boy," said the doctor, laughing; "I certainly do not. There,
lie down."
As Mark said, it was his nature to, and Dean had no sooner lain down
than he dropped off fast asleep, to be roused by his cousin in the pale
grey dawn to look at the pigmy seated upon a block of stone just outside
the end of the waggon, waiting for the boys to appear, ready to continue
his occupation of the previous day and follow both wherever they went.
"There he is," said Mark. "I don't know how long he means to stop, but
he watches me like a dog. I wish he'd talk, and understand what I say.
He can't half take in what Mak says, and Mak's nearly as bad; but
somehow they get on together, with a few signs to help, and they are
capital friends."
"Dan seems quite to put life into us," said Mark, later on. "One feels
quite different after a good breakfast. He's been begging me to get the
doctor to take him with us as soon as we start to explore."
"Well, you don't want any begging," replied Dean.
"Oh, no, I shall ask; but Bob Bacon has been at me too, and you saw Buck
Denham beckoning to me just now?"
"Yes; but he doesn't want to come, does he?"
"Doesn't he! Why, he began by telling me that Peter Dance had promised
to look after the bullocks and help Dunn. He said he liked driving, but
he was fond of hunting too, and he should like a change now and then."
"Well, let's ask the doctor."
"I have, and he said that he can't take everybody, because everything's
new as yet, and the camp must be protected."
"Well, that's true," said Dean, "and we want to go."
"But it's all right," said Mark. "Father says that he will be glad of a
day's rest, and he will stay and be sentry."
"Now, boys!" cried the doctor just then, and a short time later the well
armed party started to see what they could make out of their strange
surroundings, each of the men carrying now either a billhook or a small
sharp hatchet stuck in his belt.
They soon found though their progress was so impeded by trees and
tangled growth that the doctor turned as much as was possible to what
proved to be kopje after kopje of piled up stones in their natural
state, to find that the rocks were scored with ravine and gully, while
in the higher parts some of these took the form of cavernous hollows
pretty well choked with creepers, vines and thorns, and into which they
could peer, to find darkness, while their voices sounded echoing, hollow
and strange.
Every here and there too they came upon signs that the hollows had been
crossed by piled up stones looking like rough walls, which half cut off
the entrances. In another place what seemed to be a cavern was
completely shut in, save that a hole was left, into which Mark pitched a
loose stone that he managed to dislodge, to hear it go rumbling away
into the darkness as if it had fallen to where there was a steep slope.
"There's something to see there," said the doctor, "some day when we are
provided with lanterns and a rope or two. Why, boys, all this grows on
one. There's no doubt now that we are amongst ruins, and how far they
extend it is impossible to say. Stop here a few minutes, and let's have
a look round. This bit is evidently natural kopje."
The party stood and sat about the steep slope of rock, and taking out a
small field glass the doctor carefully scanned the rocky expanse for a
few minutes, before handing it to the boys, who used it in turn.
"Why, it is a wilderness, doctor," cried Mark. "You look there," he
continued, returning the glass, "just to the left of that clump of
trees. I am sure that must have been a wall. You can see the
what-you-may-call-them--layers of stones--courses. They are rough
enough. But it must have been built up, because every here and there
regularly holes are left."
"Yes," said the doctor, "you are quite right;" and he closed the glass
again. "That is a regular chequer pattern. That must have been the top
of the wall, and just below I made out a line of stones laid edgeways to
form a zig-zag band. Old buildings, my boy, without doubt."
"But I want to see where our little chap found the gold," said Mark.
"Well, let's ask him," said Dean.
The boys turned to where the two blacks were standing watching them, a
strangely assorted pair as they kept together, Mak towering up above the
eager-looking pigmy, who seemed to have grown during the few hours that
he had been with the party more active and better than before.
Mark began with Mak, asking a question to which the only answer he could
get was a wave of the spear; but when he turned impatiently to the pigmy
and began to question him in signs, touching the gold ornaments in the
same way as he had tried to enquire of his fellow of the forest camp,
the only reply he could get was a shake of the head.
"Well, I call that disappointing," said Mark. "It is just as if he had
brought us here on purpose to show us, and now won't tell."
"Wait a bit," said the doctor. "We can't find out everything at once.
Come along, and don't wander away to a distance. Let Mak lead so that
he may be able to follow the back track. I don't want to have any
troubles of getting lost."
"But we can't get lost here, sir," said Mark, "for we can see for miles
around."
"Yes, but the place is a regular maze. It's terribly hard work climbing
about, and before long we shall want to return to camp."
And then oddly enough the doctor in his interest forgot his words and
took the lead himself, descending into a gulch between the rocky slopes
where they had been gazing into the rifts and cavernous places, and then
rising and climbing to what is commonly known as a hog's-back ridge,
which proved to be the untouched massive pile of granite that rose
higher than any other near, and was found to be broken up at the top
with tumbled together heaps of rough blocks through which they wound in
and out till they found their way narrowing with the walls inclining
more and more till they touched. They paused at last in obedience to a
call from the black, who shook his head, frowned, and signed to them to
come back.
"What does that mean?" said the doctor.
"I don't know," replied Mark. "Hallo! Look here!"
For though the doctor and his white companions stopped short, the pigmy
darted off quickly, not stopping till he reached Mak, who was some
distance away, and who now began to retire more and more.
"I don't see anything to make him shrink away," said the doctor. "Shout
to him, Mark, and tell him to return directly."
The boy leaped upon a stone and began waving his hand to their guide,
signing to him to come on, but without effect, for Mak shook his head,
gave the pigmy a sign to follow him, and retired more and more till they
passed round behind some tall bushes and disappeared.
"This is tiresome," said the doctor. "We want the fellow here, for he
goes about just as if he knows the place, and it strikes me that he must
have been here before. Well, I suppose we may as well turn back."
"Oh, I wouldn't do that, sir," said Mark. "Look, we can surely find our
way without him. I know I could. It only means going down into the
hollow, getting up on the other side, and then--oh, I could find my way.
Let's go on now. I want to see where this leads to. What do you say,
Buck? Could you find your way back to the waggons?"
"Find my way back, sir? No fear of that! What do you say, Bob? And
you, Dan?"
"Oh, yes," they replied; "that will be easy enough."
"But there must be some reason," said the doctor, "for Mak wanting to go
back. Perhaps he's afraid of our being attacked."
"No, sir," said Buck, "it arn't that. I know what these fellows are
better than you do, perhaps. If there had been any chance of a fight he
would have stuck to you."
"Unless he was afraid of numbers," said the doctor.
"No, sir; that wouldn't make him turn tail. These Illakas are brave
enough for anything. But Mak's a bit scared, all the same."
"But you said they were brave," cried Mark.
"So they are, sir, over anything they can see; but when it's anything
they can't, then they are like so many children as are afraid to go in
the dark. I believe he's got an idea in his head that there's a
something no canny, as the Scotch people call it, as lives in that there
hole in the rocks, and nothing will make him go in for fear he should be
cursed, or something of the kind."
"Very likely," said the doctor. "All about here has some time been a
town, or towns, and it may bear the reputation of being haunted by the
spirits of the dead."
"Yes, sir; that's something what I meant to make you understand," said
Buck. "It's very babyish, but you see these Illakas are only savage
blacks, and we can't say much about it, for there's plenty of people at
home--country people--as wouldn't go across a churchyard in the dark to
save their lives."
"Well," said the doctor, "I may understand by this that you wouldn't be
afraid to go into some dark cavern?"
"Well, sir, I don't know as I should," replied the big driver. "I think
I should like to have a light, in case there was any holes that one
might go down; but I am like Bob Bacon here, who tells me that he
watches for poachers when he's at home, and Dan, who has been used to
keep watch at sea; we shouldn't stop from going into the dark for fear
of the bogeys that would scare the niggers. Mean ter to go on, sir?"
"Can we get a light if we want it?"
"I have got matches, sir, and Bob Bacon here, sir, has got a bit of old
dead sort of fir wood as will burn well enough."
"What do you say, boys?"
"Let's go on," they cried eagerly.
The doctor looked back, and for a moment or two he could make out no
sign of the two blacks. Then from close to the ground a long way back
the sun shone upon a couple of dancing feathers, and some three feet
above them appeared the black head of their guide.
"They are watching us," said the doctor. "No: they are gone. Come
along, then." And the party passed on, with the sides of the ravine
closing in till the way grew half dark, and as far as they could make
out they were at the mouth of a good-sized cavern.
Here they stopped short, and the doctor held up his hand.
"What is it?" whispered Mark.
"It may be fancy," replied the doctor, "but I fancied I heard a faint
rustling."
This sounded so like a warning to beware of any wild beast which might
be the occupant of the cavern that three of the party cocked their
pieces and waited for the doctor to go on.
"Like me to go first, sir?" said Buck quietly.
"No, I will go on directly, my man; but look here."
Everyone pressed forward to look at that which had taken the doctor's
attention, for he was gazing into a side nook that suggested, from a dry
heap of fern-like growth and grass, that it had lately been occupied.
Bob Bacon pushed past Mark, went down upon one knee, and began feeling
the dry grass. "Well?" said Mark sharply.
"It arn't cold, sir, nor it arn't warm; but I should be ready to say
that something's been lying here not long ago."
"An animal of some kind, then," said the doctor, lowering his rifle.
"You, Bacon, you are a very fair shot; come beside me; but don't fire
unless there is real necessity. You boys, come along cautiously. There
may be a leopard here. Don't fire unless it springs."
"All right, sir," said Mark. "Well, Buck, you can come next."
"Well, no, sir; if you wouldn't mind I think I will walk close to the
doctor. I am big and strong, and I shouldn't like to see you hurt."
"Oh, nonsense!" cried Mark. "I am not going to give up my place, and I
don't believe that there is anything here after all."
"Stop again," said the doctor. "I am sure I heard something moving, and
it's getting quite dark in front. Let's have a light."
"Here you are, sir," cried Buck Denham. "Strike a match, somebody."
This was done, the big driver holding Bob's resinous wood to the flame
till it began to blaze well, and then winking to himself, as Dean saw,
the big fellow stepped right forward before the rest, holding the
improvised torch so that the light illumined the glittering walls and
ceiling of the rift of beautifully clean granite rock.
Everyone was on the alert, as Buck now led on and on into the darkness,
till he said, "You will mind and not shoot me, gen'lemen; but be on the
look out, for there is something here."
The man stopped short as he spoke, holding up the torch as high as he
could, and the doctor and Mark pressed forward with their rifles
extended on either side of the big driver.
"That's right, gen'lemen," he said. "Now you can't hurt me, so you can
let go when you like."
"One minute, gentlemen," said Bob Bacon. "This was to be my job. You,
Bob, hand over that there link; I only give it to you to hold while I
struck a match."
"Yes, I know, mate," replied Buck, "but it's well alight now, and you
are quite safe there. Now, gen'lemen, can you see him?"
"Yes; take care!" cried Mark. "I can see its eyes gleaming. Look,
doctor--can't you see?"
"Yes, quite plainly. Some animal that has crept in here to die."
"That's it, sir," cried Bob Bacon. "I can see him too. Here, don't
waggle the light about like that, Buck. Look, gentlemen; there arn't
much sperrit left in him, for he's lying up against the side there as
quiet as a mouse."
"Quiet enough," said the doctor; "but take care. The brute may have
life enough left in it to scratch."
"Not him, sir," said Buck, who now took a couple of steps forward,
shaking the light to and fro to make it flare more brightly. "He arn't
got much scrat left in him, sir."
"What is it--an old leopard?"
"No, sir. There, I can see quite plain now. It's one of them baboons,
same as live on some of these kopjes; and a whacker too, and as grey as
a Devon badger. Here, Bob Bacon, as you are so precious anxious to have
the light, catch hold. I will soon see whether he will scratch or not."
"What are you going to do, man?" cried the doctor, as the exchange of
torchbearer was effected.
"Lug him out, sir."
"No, no! You will get torn."
"Nay, sir. He's got no scrat in him."
"Perhaps not, Buck," said Mark excitedly, "but I have read that those
things can bite like a dog. Stand still and let me shoot."
"Nay, sir; let's have him out into the light."
Before any protest or fresh order could be given the big driver thrust
out a hand and gripped the grey-looking object which had crawled
apparently right to the end of the cavernous hole. There was a faint
struggle, and a low guttural cry.
"There's no bite in him, sir," cried Buck. "I don't believe he's got a
tooth in his head. Now then, old 'un; out you come!"
By this time Buck had got hold of a long, thin, hairy arm, and
overcoming a slight resistance and scuffling, began to walk backwards,
dragging his prisoner after him, his companions making way, a low
whining noise escaping from the prisoner the while.
"Gently, Bob Bacon," cried Buck. "My hair's quite short enough. No
singeing, please. You might have seen that I got Dunn Brown to operate
upon me with those scissors of his."
"Here, let me come by you, Mark," cried the doctor, excitedly.
"No, sir; I wouldn't, sir," cried Bob Bacon. "I have only just got room
to hold the light up as it is, and Buck Denham's so precious
particular."
"Yes," said Buck, "and I want to get my catch out. You back with the
light, Bob; and make a little room, gen'lemen. It's all right. We
don't want any light now to show as this is one of them baboons--a long
one, 'most as big as me."
All backed away now, leaving room for Buck, who dragged his captive
along the windings of the dark cavern, commenting upon his appearance
the while.
"Yes, gen'lemen, I want to get him out and show black Mak the sperrit as
he is afraid of. Rum beggars, these natives are, ready enough to fight
and spear anybody. Got as much pluck as we have; but they are just like
kids in being frightened about ghosts and by stories told by old women.
Now then, it's no use to kick. Poor old chap! Here, I could tuck him
under my arm and carry him, only he may as well walk. He is just like a
skin bag of bones. Hallo, you, Bob Bacon, who told you to put a
'stinguisher on that light?" For a sudden darkness came upon them all.
"'Stinguished itself," growled Bob.
But the darkness was only apparent for a few moments, for about fifty
yards ahead there was a bright gleam of sunshine at the mouth of the
cavern, and two shadows moved, which proved to be Mak and the pigmy
peering in as if listening and trying to make out what was going on
inside.
"Hi, you sir!" shouted Dean. "We have caught your spirit. Come and
help him out."
But as if grasping the lad's meaning by the tone of his voice, Mak
turned sharply and darted away at a rate which carried him in a series
of bounds down the slope of the great kopje, so that by the time the
little party of explorers were out in the broad sunshine with their
captive, Mak was threading his way amongst the rocks, closely followed
once more by the pigmy, and about to disappear.
"There, gents!" cried Buck. "What do you make of him, sir?" And he
thrust his captive more into the light. "Why, he must have been a
monkey as big as me when he was in full fettle."
"Monkey!" cried Mark. "Why, it's a man!"
"Man, sir!" cried Buck scornfully. "He arn't a black; he's grey. Who
ever see a man like that?"
"Not I," said the doctor, laughing.
"There, Mr Mark," cried Buck triumphantly.
"But a man it is, Buck," said the doctor. "Poor old fellow! Doesn't
say much for the natives' civilisation, for there must have been some
living near. Crawled into that cave to die. Now, I should say he's one
of their old priests or medicine men, who, taking advantage of his great
age and supposed wisdom, has imposed upon his fellows till he got to be
looked upon as one who held intercourse with the unknown world, and
lived upon his reputation, till his fellows grew to look upon him and
talked about him as a spirit. That's why Mak objected to our exploring
this cave. Poor fellow, he meant well; and he made his objections no
doubt in our interest, for fear that we might come to harm."
"Why, a poor old scarecrow, sir!" said Buck. "He only wants one or two
old clothes put on him, and he'd make a fine tatter-dooley. Not much to
be afraid of in him! Well, gentlemen, we have got him."
"Yes, we have got him," said Mark; "but it seems to me that the question
is, what are we going to do with him now we have got him?"
"Yes," said the doctor; "that is a bit of a puzzle. We can't take him
into camp. What do you say, Dean?"
The boy wrinkled up his forehead as he gazed down at the curious,
weirdly thin object at their feet, who lay there looking like a
re-animated mummy, gazing feebly up at his captors, his dull eyes
gleaming faintly through the nearly closed lids as if suffering from the
broad light of day, before they were tightly shut, as the wretched
creature, who seemed hardly to exist, sank back into a stupor that
looked like the precursor of his final sleep.
"Well, Dean, what have you got to propose?" said Mark. "Nothing. But
if he's coming into camp along with us I am going to camp out."
"It's a rum 'un," grumbled Buck. "My word, he must be an old 'un!"
"Yes," said the doctor; "of a great age."
"And he is a man, sir?"
"Oh, yes, and he must have been a fine man in his time--six feet three
or four, I should say."
"Yes, sir," said Buck, "and that's the pity of it."
"What has his being six feet three or four got to do with it being a
pity?" said Mark sharply.
"I didn't mean that, sir," said Buck. "I meant it was a pity as he's a
man."
"Why?" asked the boys in a breath. "Because if he had been only a
beast, sir--I mean, a big monkey--it would have been a charity to put
him out of his misery."
"Poor wretch, yes," said the doctor. "But you can't do that, sir. I
know what I should do if it was me."
"What should you do, Buck?" asked Mark. "Well, sir, he arn't nothing to
us. If it was me, as I said, I should put him back again."
"Humph!" grunted the doctor. "Well, one wants to behave in a
Christian-like way to a fellow-creature. Lay him in his place there at
the mouth of the cavern, where we scared him out."