Dick shivered and fidgeted. He tapped the deck gently with his toe, and
then got up and clambered to the roof of the tiny cabin again, for he
was ill at ease. It was not the chill air of the early morning which
made his blood run cold, nor the damp mist which rose on every side from
river and jungle, from the stagnant pools lying amidst the roots of
giant trees and boulders, and from the mossy margins of the stream,
where the eddies played, and the current was still. It was neither of
these, for there was no chill in the heart of this African country. The
morning was almost as stiflingly hot as the night had been, though the
green of the leaves, and the shimmer of the river surface as it met his
eye through the thin mist, looked cool and refreshing. Dick was uneasy
in his mind. As he had sat the hours of darkness through his thoughts
had been busy. Remorse, anguish, bitter self-condemnation had come in
turn to torture his mind, and now, as the darkness waned and the light
increased, he was constantly on the move, searching the river-bank on
the far side.
"There! Yes, that is the tree," he said, as he pointed to the bush
beyond. "I can recognise it, and beneath it lie those poor fellows. I
killed them! They are stretched out there cold and stiff, those whom
the water does not cover. Oh, it is awful to think about."
He wrung his hands, while there was a look of anguish on his usually
jolly face. Had James Langdon, the rascal who had made the attack in
the night which had just passed, been able to see him he would have
laughed, for this sturdy young Englishman, looking so strong and active
on this early morning, would hardly have dared to lift his rifle. He
was suffering the torment of mind which has come to many a thousand
young warriors before him. Not because he wished it, but owing to pure
accident, he had the blood of fellow beings on his hands. He had killed
men. He had seen them fall. He remembered the horrid gurgling sound
made by the unhappy wretch who had fallen into the water and sunk to the
mud. The hideous noise had haunted him the night through, so that he
was unmanned and shivering. His fists were clenched, and his teeth held
tight together.
"I killed them," he murmured.
"And they have themselves to thank," said a voice at his elbow. "So
that's how the wind blows! Our gallant young agent would rather fall
himself and see his comrades massacred than fire on rascals who were
ready to murder all. No! No, I did not mean that, my lad. But--look
here!"
It was Mr Pepson, standing there on the deck as erect as ever, as if he
had received no wound, though the bandages about his head and his
shoulder and the blood-stains upon them, showed that he undoubtedly had.
But Dick had begun to discover some unsuspected points about this
employer of his, and had come to the conclusion that he was possessed of
no ordinary pluck and go, though he showed it in his own quiet and
unassuming manner, and, in addition, that thin and cadaverous though he
seemed to be, yet this trader from Sierra Leone was as hard as nails.
He stared at him in amazement, and then flushed at his words.
"Why, you ought to be wrapped in your rug!" he exclaimed sharply. "You
are hurt, and need a little nursing."
"A mere scratch--a flea-bite, I assure you. I have had many worse
before this, as you may learn when I tell you a little of my life's
history. But speaking of rugs. That's what you want, my lad, and a
good talking-to besides. Now, listen to me, Dick. I don't blame you,
nor do I smile at your thoughts and feelings, for every decent fellow
has them. I remember a ruffian who thought to rob me in South America,
many years ago. Yes, I was a youngster little older than you are. I
shot him dead, and lay down beside him through the night, because that
was the safest place. When the sun came up and showed me that I was
alone and that there was no more trouble to fear, I looked at that poor
fellow. He was lying on his back, his legs curled up beneath him, and
his hands stretched out as if he were asleep. But his white face and
the pool beside him told me the awful truth. I bolted. I ran away,
Dick. I felt like a murderer, and for days wondered whether I should be
tracked. Then I saw the other side. A rancher took me in hand, just as
I am doing with you, and he made me see the right side. Why, bless me,
the world is filled with honest people and with rogues, and the latter
prey upon their fellows. Are the honest men to put up with robbery and
violence? Did you agree so easily to James Langdon's taking your gold?
Did you? Come, answer the question."
Dick was cornered, and began to see the other side of the matter. The
sun was coming up, too, and the damp mist was already beginning to
disappear. Our surroundings often have an immense effect upon the
brightness or otherwise of our thoughts, and our hero, usually so jolly
and so genial, had felt the depression common to many who keep watch
alone during the dark hours after an action.
"Of course I didn't," he answered. "I tried to shoot him, just as I did
last night, and he would have richly deserved his fate."
"Quite so. And these rascals last night deserved theirs, without a
doubt. It happened that you were the one to stand between them and
their wishes, and they did their utmost to remove you. Theirs was might
against right, and right prevailed. They paid the penalty, and here are
you grieving because all has happened as it should. Come. No more of
this nonsense! Tell me about the action, for, remember, after the
moment when we set foot ashore, I know nothing, save that I found myself
aboard this launch, with you and Meinheer staring into my face. That
reminds me. Where is our fine friend? A precious mess his laziness got
us into last night."
"Turned in and snoring," said Dick. "Listen!"
Above the ripple of the water and the sough of the wind in the trees the
sounds proceeding from the nose of the Dutchman could be distinctly
heard.
"He must have his sleep," laughed Mr Pepson. "Did I not tell you that
we must needs rely upon ourselves for protection? He is made for
commerce, not for warfare."
"And yet he did well last night. I'll tell you what happened."
They sat down on the tiny roof while Dick told how the bullet had struck
his friend, and how the flash had showed him a dozen men rushing down
upon them.
"That was an awkward position," interrupted his friend. "I understand
that I was lying in the water. Covered, in fact?"
There was a queer little smile on his lips, and he looked swiftly into
Dick's honest and open face.
"Yes. You had gone below the surface. I was stunned by the mishap. I
thought it was all up with us."
"With me, you mean. You could have bolted. The boat was close at
hand."
Dick flushed to the roots of his hair, and tore his hat from his head as
if the weight troubled him. He stared at Mr Pepson in amazement, and
then, seeing the smile, smiled back at him.
"You are chaffing me," he said. "Trying to humbug me. You know well
enough that no decent fellow would do that. You wouldn't. I wasn't
going to desert a comrade who was down and helpless, particularly when
there were such ruffians about. So I set to work as quickly as
possible."
"You made up your mind to see the business through?"
"Yes. I was staggered at first. Then I caught you up, not too gently,
I fear, and dumped you into the boat. After that I pushed her out and
shoved off into the shadow of the trees."
"Why? What was your reason?"
Mr Pepson was like an inquisitor. He still smiled the same little
smile, and still treated his agent to an occasional flash of his
brilliant eyes, as if he would probe him to the utmost depth.
"My reason? Oh, we were in the light, you see. The moon was up, and
the beggars could pot us easily. They had guns, remember, else you
would not have been hit. I reckoned--all of a sudden--I don't know how
it was, quite--that we should be safer there, and so into the shadow I
went. Then they occupied our position. I could see to shoot, while
they were bothered. Still, they made a fine rush, and things began to
look ugly when the launch came into view. Our friend showed his mettle,
for he fired at once, and his shot practically ended the engagement.
Then we steamed off, and, and--"
"And here we are. And I owe you a life again, Master Dick. Very good.
No, I won't say a word more, save that you tackled the task well. It
was an ugly position and you seem to have chosen the only way out. I'm
glad, too, that Meinheer put a spoke in their wheel. Now do me the
favour of dressing these wounds again, and then we will breakfast. Get
the bandages and a looking-glass, for then I shall be able to see the
hurts myself, and give an opinion. You see, I am a bit of a surgeon."
At this moment the blanket beneath which the ample figure of the
Dutchman was shrouded stirred and was thrown back, and very soon,
yawning and stretching his arms, Meinheer came along the deck. By then
Dick had the bandages and fresh dressings, as well as a bowl of water,
drawn from the river, and some clean linen to act as a sponge. How
different, how lighthearted he looked, for, thanks to his chat with Mr
Pepson, and to the other's common sense, all his worries were dispelled,
and he saw things with an eye which was not jaundiced. He had, in fact,
reached the stage at which others in a similar position had arrived
before. He could see that killing was not a joyous trade, that no
ordinary human being lightly undertook it, and only when circumstances
made it imperative that he should act so as to protect his own life and
that of his friend. Then there was no blame to be attached to the one
who had shed the blood of his fellow, so long as he was not a wanton
aggressor.
"Here we are," he called out as he came along. "Good day, Meinheer.
Hold the bowl, please, while I get the bandages undone. Ah, here's the
pin. Now, sit up, sir. That's right. We'll have it done in a jiffy."
Very carefully and skilfully he unwrapped the bandages, and presently
the dressing was removed from the shoulder. Mr Pepson lifted the
glass, arranged it so that he could obtain a clear view, and then
grunted.
"Humph!" he said, with one of his inscrutable smiles. "A mere scratch.
Take the probe, Dick. Now dip it into that other bowl which has the
carbolic in it. That's the way. Gently put it into the wound. No.
Don't be nervous. I'll soon shout if it hurts. Press gently towards
the other place where the bullet came out. Hah! A mere flesh wound,
barely an inch deep. Not even that. I'm lucky! The shoulder is
scarcely stiff, and a little rest in a sling will put it right in a
week. A schoolboy would laugh at it. Put on fresh dressings and we'll
inspect the head. Lucky that I'm such a surgeon!"
He was as cheery as possible, and thanks to his lightheartedness his
friends, who had been looking on and helping in the task with some
misgivings, began to feel that their comrade was, after all, not so
badly hurt.
"I tell you that it was only the crack on my skull that mattered,"
persisted Mr Pepson. "The bullet slipped through my shoulder, a mere
wound of the cuticle, and then happened to glance against my scalp and
skull. A man can't stand that. It knocks him stupid. That's why I
fell, and that's why our young friend had to help me. But it doesn't
explain why he--a mere youngster--pulled me through so well, and why he
stuck to me when many another would have bolted to save his own skin.
Heh? What did you say, Meinheer?"
"Zat we hab a drasure. Zat Meinheer Dick will be a gread man one of
zese days. When he is big like me, when he has grown fine and dall,
and, and--ah, yes, sdoud, you call him; yes, when he is sdoud, then he
will be one gread, fine man. And he is brave! Yes, I see zad with half
one eye, for a brave man knows when he meeds one of ze same."
"Quite so, Meinheer," answered Mr Pepson, dryly. "Which reminds me.
Dick says that you fired in the nick of time, and turned the tide of the
battle. It was a good shot. You did well, and Johnnie also, to bring
up the launch just then. But stand aside a little and give me the
glass. Hah! Looks nasty, doesn't it, Dick," he went on, as the wound
on his scalp was exposed, and he noticed our hero wince and turn a
little pale at the sight. "Come, come! Looks are the worst part of it.
Bathe the wound and cover it again. An Irishman would not give it a
second thought. I haven't even a headache."
He rose to his feet when the dressing was completed, and walked up and
down the deck, looking perhaps a little more sallow than usual. But his
spirits were not in the least damped or downcast. Indeed, his two
companions had yet to learn that their leader was, in his quiet way, a
remarkable man. As hard as nails, as Dick had already observed, cool
and courageous, and possessed of a dogged nature which defied the utmost
fatigue, which laughed, or rather smiled only, at danger, and which made
light of any wound. Meanwhile, Dick and Johnnie were engaged at the
furnace door, and presently the aroma of coffee came to the nostrils of
the leader and the Dutchman, causing the latter to turn an eager and
expectant gaze in that direction.
"By Jobe!" he cried, "bud zad is a scend zad is goat, yes, ver goot.
Whad shall we ead zis day?"
His question was answered almost at once, for Johnnie came along the
deck bearing a steaming dish, Dick following with the coffee and
biscuit. The newspaper was again spread on the roof of the cabin, and
all set to work with eagerness.
"And now for future movements. We are a day's journey from the mouth of
the river, and three from the mine," said Mr Pepson. "The question is
whether we should push on alone as we are, or whether we should return.
There is no doubt that all our Fanti men were in league with these
robbers, and left us at the first opportunity."
"And would do the same again," Dick ventured. "If we returned for a
second crew, who is to guarantee that they will not behave in a similar
manner?"
"That is the very point. We should run that danger. What are your
views about this attack during the night?"
He swung round on his elbow and looked keenly at our hero.
"You saw them," he said. "This precious rascal nearly shot you. How
much has he had to do with the matter?"
"More than any one, I think," was Dick's answer. "I believe him to be a
thorough rogue, and in league with the Ashantis. Inquiries which I made
at Cape Coast Castle convinced me that he had been engaged on many
occasions in running guns and ammunition to the coast, and sending them
up-country. Well, we have heard that there is trouble brewing. The
natives at Elmina are in almost open insurrection. Murders have been
committed under the eyes of the garrison, and a few white men carried
off. In addition, there are tidings that parties of Ashanti warriors
are in the neighbourhood of the Pra. It is my opinion that this James
Langdon is their spy, that he is watching for them and sending news of
the doings at Elmina and Cape Coast Castle to King Koffee. That would
have brought him tidings of our expedition, for all in Elmina and along
the coast knew of our intentions--"
"While the king of the Ashantis had given us the concession, and had
promised that we should be protected," interposed Mr Pepson. "Not that
I will trust his sable majesty's word. The best protection that we can
have will be our rifles. But I interrupted. You think--?"
"That this James Langdon is a spy, and that while engaged in that work
he has time to see to other matters. The cargo we carry is valuable.
If he could have taken the boats the expedition would have been ruined,
and we should have had to return. Then, too, we do not know how much
more ambitious the scheme of last night's attack may have been. They
may have arranged to steal the boats and make sure of their prize, then
to return and cut our throats. There were sufficient of them, and I
fancy that what James Langdon would willingly do, the others would also
carry out."
"Precisely. They would hack us all to pieces. Never you hesitate again
to shoot, my lad. Where such rascals have to be dealt with it is as
well to press a trigger without delay, remembering that the man who
hesitates very often is killed before he has another chance. And you
think that this ruffian has been on the lookout for us, and that we are
not only fortunate in having our goods secure, but also in having our
lives? I believe it. I think the fellow would willingly have had a
little private revenge with his booty. He has his knife in you, Dick,
because you were the first to discover him, and he will not be more
friendly disposed to us, for we are whites, and he is an outcast. To
return to the subject of Elmina. I heard about the natives. Perhaps
Meinheer can tell us more."
"Zey are pigs, I dell you. Mein word! Bud do you know zis, mine ver
good friend? Zese blacks were once servands. Zey would run, and quick,
when ze order was give. Now--now zere is no ordering zem. Zed do nod
move. Zey glare ad me, ad me, Meinheer Van Somering. Zey used to sdand
and shake, so"--the burly Dutchman let his knees knock together, while
he trembled till his fat cheeks quivered--"ver good, now zey laugh, yes
zey laugh and run away."
"All of which points to disaffection and probable mutiny," said Mr
Pepson. "Then it is clear that a second crew from Elmina would be worse
than useless. We shall have dangers to face. We can well do that
alone."
"While I am sure that we can manage the launch and the boats,
particularly if we tie up before it is dark, and then change our
position once the night has fallen."
"A brilliant idea, Dick, and we will carry it out. Once at the stockade
I shall have no fear, for the men are Ashanti gold-diggers, who are not
much given to fighting. There are a dozen of them, and I think their
loyalty can be controlled by the prospect of gold. You see, they are
paid a percentage of what they recover from the soil. Yes, we will push
on up-stream and avoid another attack. If there is a moon again we will
keep on during the night. Now about those fellows over there. We must
go across and see how many are killed, and if any are still living.
Meinheer, what do you say?"
The Dutchman did not reply hastily, for he was considering the danger of
such an expedition. However, in his heart of hearts, Meinheer was a
humane man when his fears were quieted, and he argued that here there
could be no danger.
"Good. We will go, Meinheer," he said. "Ze sooner ze bedder."
"And as I am the lightest and perhaps the most active, I will land,"
added Dick. "Then, in case of an attack, you two can cover me with your
rifles. There is no trusting these rascals, particularly when James
Langdon commands them."
A few minutes later the remains of the breakfast had been cleared away,
and while the trio smoked their pipes and chatted, Johnnie stoked the
furnace, throwing coal upon it till a column of smoke issued from the
funnel. Soon the hiss of steam from the escape told that the launch was
ready for a move, and at once Mr Pepson stepped to the tiller.
"We'll leave our boats anchored over here," he said, "for it would never
do to have them over on the far shore and run the risk of attack. In
the confusion, if there were need to escape, they would hamper us, and
would perhaps be lost. Make them fast together, Dick, and we'll leave
Johnnie in charge."
Another two minutes saw the launch steaming away from beneath the trees
on the eastern side of the Pra, and presently her nose was pushing its
way through the reeds and osiers which cropped up here and there on the
far side.
Mr Pepson still held the tiller, a rifle beside him, and a cigar
between his lips. The bulky form of the Dutchman was stretched out on
the deck behind the tiny cabin. His rifle was at his shoulder, and he
surveyed the jungle eagerly, treating every dark patch and shadow to a
fierce scowl which boded ill for the man who might be lurking there.
His finger on such occasions would go to the trigger of his snider till
Dick fidgeted and felt uncomfortable, for he was not far from the line
of fire. He lay in the bows, a light bamboo in his hands, with which he
every now and again sounded the bed of the river to make sure that there
was sufficient water. A few minutes' gliding along in the shadows
brought them to the spot where the action of the previous night had
taken place, a spot instantly recognised by the figures lying about it.
For stretched in the sun were the victims of Dick's fire, as yet
undiscovered by the river alligators. Dick shuddered, and transferred
his gaze to the bush. Then, remembering Mr Pepson's words, he looked
again. One poor wretch lay face down in the water, his body already
almost covered with drifting mud, while his feet protruded on to the
land. Close to him lay a second, still and dark, his limbs stretched to
their fullest extent, while some paces away were three more of the
attackers, all stark and dead.
"The reward of rascality," cried Mr Pepson. "A horrid sight, my
friends; but then we might have been in their place, and war and battles
are always horrid. How's the depth, Dick? Can you get ashore?"
For answer our hero tried the sounding with his stick again, and then
stood up. Taking his rifle he dropped lightly into the water and waded
ashore. Then he went to the figures lying about. They were all
undoubtedly dead, and a glance satisfied him of that fact. At once he
went on towards the bush, which at this point receded somewhat from the
river, and presently something attracted his eye. It was a path leading
into the forest, a path freshly broken and trodden, the one, no doubt,
by which the robbers had fled.
"Leave it," shouted Mr Pepson. "You would be in the middle of the
jungle, where all is dark, and we could not help you. Come back. We
have learned all that we desired. There are five killed here, and one
whom you shot in the first boat. But one moment. Do any of these
fellows belong to our runaway crew?"
Dick retraced his steps slowly, and reluctantly looked at the bodies
again. There was not the slightest doubt that they were the very men
who had come from Elmina--all, in fact, save one, whose face was
strange.
"Then James Langdon had others with him," thought Dick. "Somehow, I
don't know why, I feel misgivings about that man. His memory haunts me.
What if he attacked us again!"
What if our hero had known that the ruffian whose name he mentioned was
at that very moment within little more than a stone's-throw! That James
Langdon had come down to the river-bank that morning, having left his
lair in the forest just as the launch steamed away from her anchorage of
the previous night! That he had watched with the eagerness and stealth
of a fox, and had rubbed his hands with delight as he saw the son of the
master he had robbed drop into the water! For this half-caste forgot
that he himself was to blame for the existence which he now led, for the
discomforts which he had now to put up with. He placed all the blame on
Dick's shoulders.
"There he is!" he growled, as Dick waded towards the shore. "But for
his coming to the coast I should have been able to remain there, still
unsuspected, and there, living in a good house, I could still have done
this work for King Koffee. And I could have gained riches more quickly.
But we shall see. Ah! he is ashore. If he steps nearer I will shoot
him like a bird."
He crouched in the underwood, while his hand went to the pouch at his
waist. A growl of anger and disgust escaped him, for the revolver which
he had carried was not there. He had no weapon but a large
sheath-knife, which he carried at his hip.
"It will do as well, and it is silent," he said to himself. "He is
coming. The young fool will walk into the trap, and this time I will
not be flurried. He shall come on without a suspicion, and when he has
passed me I will leap on his back and there will be an end of the
matter."
His ferrety eyes gleamed with malice. He spat on the hand which was to
hold the knife, and then gripped it with all his strength. His limbs
arranged themselves till the man was poised on the tips of his toes and
fingers, till he sat crouched in a position to spring upon the back of
his unsuspecting foe. Then came the voice of the leader. Dick stared
into the jungle till the half-caste thought he must be seen. Then he
retired to the launch, inspected the faces of the slain, and went
aboard.
"My luck!" growled James Langdon. "But the chance will come again. Oh,
yes, my friend, Dick Stapleton, you will be sorry one of these days. As
for the men who have engaged you as their agent, they are fools. It
would be better for them if they had never met you."
He glared at the launch and her passengers as she steamed away, and
still continued to stare at them till they reached the far side of the
Pra; for a thought had struck this ruffian.
"Why not?" he asked himself. "They will be alone. There will be gold
in plenty. Why should I not have my share of that or take all that they
possess? If I have failed this time I shall succeed at the next
attempt."
The thought pleased him immensely, for his face lightened, the scowl
left his forehead, and for a moment James Langdon looked as if he were
not the villain he had proved himself to be. But he would not have
deceived Dick Stapleton. Had our hero been able to see him there in the
bush, he would have suspected the mischief that was brewing, and the
misgivings which now filled his mind would have been vastly increased.
As it was, he and his friends went on their way up the river, and their
adventure of the night almost forgotten in the passing scenes, and in
anticipation of the pleasures before them.