Three weeks later they camped on the river bank not many miles from the
German frontier. The heat was terribly oppressive. Thousands of
insects droned about their ears. A thick mist hung upon the river like
a poison-cloud. They were in the very depths of the great White Man’s
Grave.
Four days afterwards Fernando deemed it advisable to leave the river
valley, and unloading the canoes—which they hid in a mangrove
swamp—they began their journey through the bush.
It would be tedious to describe in detail the long weeks that followed
or the hardships they had to undergo. One by one the Kru boys deserted
them, to find their own way back to the coast. But both Cortes and
Fernando proved loyal to the hilt, and eventually the party came out
from the jungle upon the high ground in the central part of the colony.
The country here was savage, inhospitable, and bleak. There was little
vegetation save rank mountain grass and withered shrubs in sheltered
places. Day by day they advanced with the utmost caution, giving native
villages a wide berth and always on the look-out for an ambuscade.
Fernando proved himself to be an excellent cook, whereas his younger
brother prided himself upon his skill as a runner. It was his custom on
the line of march to jump fallen trees and brooks.
In these higher altitudes there was a plenitude of game, whereas in the
bush they had been near to starving, and one morning they were crossing
a spur of a great cloud-wrapped mountain when Cortes, who had been
walking about fifty yards in advance of Harry and Jim, dropped suddenly
upon his face, and motioned the two boys to do the same. They had no
idea as to what had happened, and suspected that the guide had sighted a
party of the enemy.
Crawling on hands and knees, they drew level with the man.
"Goat," said he, pointing towards the mountain.
And there, sure enough, was a species of mountain goat with his great
horns branching from the crown of his shaggy head.
"Come," said the man to Harry; "you shoot."
They could not afford to let the beast escape. The flesh of all the
wild goats, though perhaps not so good as that of the wild sheep, is by
no means unwelcome when one must journey far from civilization in the
wilds of the African hills.
Harry adjusted his sights to six hundred yards, and then, drawing in a
deep breath, took long and careful aim. Gently he pressed the trigger,
the rifle kicked, there came a sharp report, and the bullet sped upon
its way. On the instant the beast was seen galloping at breakneck speed
down what seemed an almost perpendicular cliff.
"Missed!" cried Harry.
"No," said Cortes. "He’s hit—he’s wounded. He will not go far."
For a few minutes the members of the party held a hurried consultation.
Finally it was decided that Fernando should go on ahead with the camp
kit and cooking-utensils, whilst the younger brother accompanied Harry
and Jim in pursuit of the wounded goat. They agreed to meet at
nightfall at a place known to the brothers.
It took them nearly an hour to scramble across the valley, to reach the
place where the animal had been wounded. There, as the guide had
predicted, there were drops of blood upon the stones. All that morning
they followed the spoor, and about two o’clock in the afternoon they
sighted the wounded beast, lying down in the open.
He was still well out of range, and, unfortunately for them, on the
windward side. That meant they would have to make a detour of several
miles in order to come within range.
For three hours they climbed round the wind, all the time being careful
not to show themselves, for the eyes of the wild goat are like those of
the eagle. With its wonderful eyesight, its still more wonderful sense
of smell, and its ability to travel at the pace of a galloping horse
across rugged cliffs and valleys, it is a prize that is not easily
gained. When they last saw the animal it was lying down in the same
place. They were then at right angles to the wind, about two miles up
the valley.
From this point, on the advice of Cortes, they passed into another
valley to the west. Here there was no chance of being seen or winded by
the beast; and, since it was now possible to walk in an upright
position, they progressed more rapidly.
When they had arrived at the spot which the guide judged was immediately
above the wounded animal they climbed stealthily up the hill. On the
crest-line they sought cover behind great boulders, which lay scattered
about in all directions as if they had been hurled down from the skies.
Lying on their faces, side by side, Harry with his field-glasses to his
eyes, they scanned the valley where they had left their quarry.
Not a sign of it was to be seen. The thing had disappeared as
mysteriously as if it had been spirited away.
"He’s gone!" said Harry, with a feeling of bitter disappointment.
He was about to rise to his feet, but the half-caste held him down by
force.
"Don’t get up;" he cried. "Lie still! There are men in the valley
yonder."
"Men! Have you seen them?"
"No, I have not seen them," said Cortes. "But the beast saw them, or
got their wind. Otherwise he would not have gone."
"It’s von Hardenberg, perhaps!" said Harry, turning to Braid, the wish
being father to the thought.
Both looked at their guide.
"It is either the man you want," said the guide, "or else it is the
Germans."
The wounded animal was now forgotten. They were face to face with the
reality of their situation. They had either overtaken von Hardenberg
and Peter Klein or else the Germans had received news of their having
reached the frontier.
"We’ll have to cross the valley," said Harry, "to get back to camp."
"That is the worst of it," said Cortes; "we must rejoin my brother. He
will be awaiting us."
He had learnt his English on the Coast. He spoke the language well, but
with the strange, clipped words used by the natives themselves, though
the man was half a Spaniard.
"How are we to get there?" asked Jim.
The guide looked at the sun.
"It is too late," said he, "to go by a roundabout way. We must walk
straight there. There are many things which cause me to believe that
danger is close at hand."
"What else?" asked Harry, who already was conscious that his heart was
beating quickly.
"Late last night I saw smoke on the mountains. This morning, before we
started, my brother thought he heard a shot, far in the distance. Also,"
he added, "during the last three days we have seen very little game.
Something has scared them away."
"Come," said Harry. "We waste time in words. As it is, we have barely
time to get back before nightfall."
As he said this he rose to his feet, and the moment he did so there came
the double report of a rifle from far away in the hills, and a bullet
cut past him and buried itself in the ground, not fifteen paces from his
feet.
"Down," cried the guide, "for your life!"