Reeves's Ruse
ALL the rest of the day the little crew took turns to row their craft
downstream. Although there was no wind, and the heat made their
exertions doubly hard, the current aided them considerably, its rate
being about two miles per hour when once the river contracted. On the
lake there was no appreciable drift, a circumstance that gave Reeves
the liveliest satisfaction, since he had good reason to believe that
no rapids would be met with for some considerable distance.
Just before sunset they anchored the boat in midstream by means of
the long rope, tied fast to a heavy stone. Having made sure that
their improvised anchor was not dragging, all hands set to to rig the
awning for the night, fixing it so that it made a ridge tent instead
of the flat surface that had served to keep off the rays of the sun.
As far as they could see, there were no signs of human inhabitants.
The dense subtropical forests on either hand were teeming with animal
life, gaudily-coloured birds predominating. The water, too, abounded
with fish, which snapped eagerly at a bit of cotton cloth wrapped
round a bent wire that Hugh employed as a fishing hook.
In a few minutes a dozen good-sized fish were floundering about on
the bottom of the boat; but, fearful lest some of these should be
poisonous, Reeves threw them all overboard, with the exception of
three resembling dace, only much larger. These were cooked over a
fire made upon a large flat stone, which had apparently been used for
a similar purpose before, and were pronounced excellent.
Throughout the night, watches were set, this precaution being deemed
necessary in spite of the isolated position of their floating camp;
but, beyond the constant noise of the animal life in the forests,
nothing occurred to disturb the slumbers of those of the crew who
were not keeping a long and tedious vigil.
At sunrise all hands had a bathe, since there was no likely danger of
being seized by crocodiles. The water was perfectly clear, and,
greatly refreshed, the little party attacked their plain but by no
means scanty breakfast.
While this was in progress, Reeves suddenly signed to his companions
to keep silent, and, seizing his musket, took aim beneath the awning.
Standing on the bank, at quite a hundred yards' distance, was a tall,
graceful animal somewhat resembling the spring-bok of the Karroos.
The creature seemed to have no fear, or, if it had, curiosity got the
better of it, for it remained motionless, looking intently at the
unusual sight of a boat upon the practically deserted river.
Reeves pressed the trigger, but the gun missfired. The animal
inclined its head slightly at the sound, but did not attempt to bound
away. The correspondent's second essay was successful, and with a
quick, convulsive leap the creature fell dead.
"It seems almost a pity to shoot such a confiding sort of animal,"
said Gerald, as they prepared to heave up anchor and row ashore for
their spoil.
"It does," assented Reeves. "I should not have done so, only that
stern necessity demands it. We must have food, and not neglect any
opportunity. If this river traverses a desert, we should be short of
provisions before we were out of it unless we replenished our scanty
larder."
The slaughtered animal was soon cut up, the best portions being taken
on board and, with the exception of a piece of hind quarter, which
was reserved for dinner, salted down. This done, the awning was
adapted for its daily purpose, and the voyage resumed.
For five days the boat passed between the dense forests on either
hand, halts being made at each midday for the purpose of allowing the
travellers to stretch their legs ashore, in addition to the nightly
rests in midstream. But on the sixth day the forests were left
behind; then followed a vast extent of plain, in which the vegetation
gradually yet regularly decreased until it assumed the appearance of
thorns and scrub.
"We are verging on another desert, I'm afraid," said Reeves.
"Luckily, the river shows no signs of decreasing in volume, so I
think we can rely on its not losing itself in the sand."
About three hours after sunrise a welcome breeze dead astern sprang
up, enabling the travellers to set the awning as a sail. The
advantages of being able to dispense with the use of oars were
quickly appreciated by the crew, who could now sit at ease, the boat
being kept on her course by means of an occasional dip with the oar
that served as a rudder.
"This is great!" exclaimed Hugh, as the boat, with wind and current,
ran past the banks at a good six miles an hour. "A few days like this
would mean a lot."
"We've much to be thankful for," said Reeves; "but, at the same time,
if only I had something to smoke----"
He was interrupted by Gerald pointing to the right bank of the river.
Standing on the rising ground that cut the skyline was an Arab,
dressed in white, with a long gun slung across his back. The man was
shading his eyes and looking intently at the strange sight of a boat,
and the still stranger sight of a boat with a sail.
"By Jove, that's awkward!" muttered Reeves. "Don't take any notice. I
hope the fellow's alone."
As he spoke, the Bedouin mounted his hierie, turned, and dropped
behind the bank. A few minutes later came the dull report of a
musket.
"He's up to mischief--that's to bring up the other cutthroats!"
said Reeves. "Sling that bag of flour between the seats, and see to
the priming of the muskets. I don't want to use force unless it is
absolutely necessary."
The simple preparations for putting the boat in a state of defence
were soon completed, Reeves steering well towards the left bank so as
to place as great a distance as possible betwixt them and the
threatened attack.
"That is as much as I dare do; we're in only five feet of water," he
remarked. "I hope that it won't shoal, for if we ran aground going at
this rate it might be very serious for us."
Nothing remained but to keep a bright lookout, and in a silence
broken only by the swish of the bluff bow as it forced its way
through the water the three Englishmen awaited events.
"There's someone's head!" exclaimed Hugh, as a white _burnous_
appeared above the bank. "And another--a regular swarm of them!"
Barely a hundred and fifty yards away a dozen Arabs sprang up, waving
their long-barrelled muskets and shouting to the strangers to stop.
"Sorry we can't--for your sakes," said Reeves grimly, under his
breath; then, to the lads: "Lie down behind the sack; those gentry
mean mischief."
[Illustration: A GOOD SHOT]
A shot whistled over the boat, followed by an irregular volley; then,
setting their camels at a steady pace, the Arabs kept up with the
boat, reloading their cumbersome weapons as they went.
"If they don't do better than that, we needn't worry," said Reeves,
who was sitting aft, and imperturbably grasping the steering oar.
"But keep down, you fellows; they may make a fluke and score a
cannon."
Almost the next shot cut a long gash in the sail, while another
knocked chips off the gunwale.
"This won't do," exclaimed Reeves. "Gerald, come aft for half a
minute and steer. Don't show yourself too much."
Kneeling on the bottom boards, the correspondent took careful aim
with his musket, and a camel promptly dropped, throwing its rider
headlong upon the sand.
"One!" said the marksman calmly. "Hand me your musket, Hugh."
The next shot was also successful, bringing down the Arab who had
discovered the boat. With that the rest turned and disappeared behind
the sandhills.
"I hope that's sent them about their business," said Reeves, as he
reloaded the flintlock. "Gerald, you're fairly light; swarm up the
mast and say if you can see anything of them."
"They are riding as hard as they can in the same direction as we are
taking," announced the lad from his swaying perch.
"All right; come down," replied Reeves. "They are going to ambush us,
I fear."
Ten minutes later a rattle of musketry burst from the scrub on the
bank, most of the bullets flying high or striking the water. Two,
however, ricochetting, buried themselves in the boat's stout timbers.
Without showing themselves, the Arabs disappeared, to take up a fresh
position lower downstream.
"That's beastly annoying!" remarked Hugh. "If they carry plenty of
provisions they may keep this game up for days."
"I thought all the Arabs went eastwards after the repulse at the
breach?" said Gerald.
"These may be a few stragglers--I hope they are," rejoined Reeves.
"We don't want to drift into a whole tribe of them. To-night I'll try
to trick them. Fortunately there's no moon."
The breeze held throughout the day, but, in spite of the rapid and
constant speed of the boat, the Bedouins hung on doggedly, firing
from cover as quickly as they could. Little damage was done, however,
beyond a few holes through the top strakes and splinters from the
mast and gunwales.
As night came on, the wind showed signs of dropping.
"Are you going to bring up for the night?" asked Gerald of Reeves,
who had relinquished the helm and was busily engaged in unstranding a
piece of rope and encasing it in tallow from the animal they had
shot.
"Rather; that's part of my ruse. The wind's falling very light, and
our progress will soon be only that of the current, unless we row,
and that will be too risky."
Directly it grew thoroughly dark, Reeves lit one of his improvised
candles, which burned steadily in the almost still air. Its
appearance was greeted by a shower of bullets from the indefatigable
enemy on the bank.
"Stand by with the anchor, Gerald," said the correspondent. "Don't
make more noise than you can possibly help. When I say 'let go',
lower the stone as softly as you can."
"All ready!" announced Gerald from the bow of the boat.
Meanwhile the director of operations had wrenched up one of the
bottom boards, and, lighting a second candle, stuck it firmly in the
centre of the plank. Then, carefully screening the light, he dropped
the piece of timber over the side of the boat away from the bank from
which the Arabs were firing.
"Let go," he whispered, blowing out the first light.
The rough-and-ready anchor brought the boat round head to current,
while the board, with its candle burning dimly, drifted downstream,
the mark for nearly a dozen muskets.
"Now they can waste powder and shot as much as they jolly well
please," exclaimed Reeves, as the sound of the firing grew fainter
and fainter. "Luckily there are no King's prizemen amongst them, and
fifty to one they won't shift that candle at a hundred yards."
The night passed without interruption, and daylight revealed no sign
of the Arabs.
"I hope they potted that candle after all," said Gerald.
"Why, young wiseacre?" asked Reeves, laughing.
"Because if they did, they might imagine that they sank the boat, and
would not trouble us further. If they find the plank at daybreak they
will see through our little game and come back to look for us."
"That's one to you, by George!" exclaimed the correspondent. "I wish
we had lowered the sail and rowed downstream, leaving the light
behind us. But in any case it's too late now, and the fact remains
that we have put the Arabs between us and our destination."
"Unless they've gone inland," added Hugh.
"Which I hope they have done," concluded Reeves.
Once more the favouring breeze had sprung up, and with the sail
bellying out before the wind the boat resumed its course. Ten miles
were reeled off in quick time, and the crew were beginning to
congratulate themselves upon the success of their ruse when the now
familiar sound of bullets whizzing about their ears told them that
the respite had been but temporary.
There was something satisfactory, however, besides the waste of
ammunition. The firing told Reeves that the Arabs had not increased
in number, though their persistency began to cause him fresh
uneasiness. Was it likely that the Bedouins would continue their
apparently fruitless pursuit if they had no possible chance of
success?