Fernando, bringing his rifle to his shoulder, fired a shot at random in
the darkness. It was the last round they had. A laugh came back from
the distance.
Without a word the guide put down his rifle on the ground and examined
the wounded boy.
"He is stunned," said he. "He will recover presently."
So saying he lifted Harry in his arms and carried him a distance of
about a hundred yards to a place where there was a small stream in the
valley.
There he bathed the boy’s face and hands, washing the blood from the
wound in his ear. Presently Harry recovered consciousness, sat up, and
looked about him.
"Where am I?" he asked.
It took but a word to remind him of what had happened, and then he
remembered that he had held the Sunstone in his grasp. He looked up at
Jim and smiled.
"I was so near to capturing it," said he.
"We’ll get it yet, sir," answered Jim. "Just now I had the shock of my
life. I thought you had been killed."
"I’m all right," answered Harry. "I feel dizzy; that’s all."
In a little time he was able to continue on his way. The bullet wound
in his ear was nothing; it was scarcely painful.
That night they camped in the mountains, intending to march at daybreak
towards the British camp. When the sun rose, however, they found to
their surprise that the whole column was already on the line of march,
moving towards the east in pursuit of the retreating enemy.
When they reached the scene of the bivouac the camp-fires were still
burning, but no sign of life remained.
The British column had vanished into the bush; and only a few
hospital-wagons were to be seen trundling slowly southward.
In the centre of the deserted bivouac stood a tall solitary tree, and it
was under this that they rested throughout the heat of the day.
Fernando, who had been dozing, rose to his feet, stretched and yawned.
As he did so he caught sight of a star-shaped cut in the bark of the
tree, and on the instant it was as if the man had become transfigured.
His eyes lit up, his lips smiled. Amazement, delight, and infinite
pleasure were stamped on every feature of his face.
"What is it?" asked Harry, at a loss to explain the man’s behaviour.
"Heaven be praised!" he cried. "My brother is still alive!"
"Alive!"
"Yes. Cortes blazed that tree, and the blaze is not one day old. Last
night he was here—in the midst of the British camp."
"Are you sure of it?" asked Braid.
"I know," Fernando answered with conviction. "In the days when we
hunted together we sometimes lost one another in the bush, and on such
occasions we blazed the trees along the tracks of bush elephants in just
such a manner as this."
Harry Urquhart looked about him.
"There is no sign of Cortes here," he said. "He cannot have left with
the British?"
"No," said Fernando. "He is hiding somewhere. Let me think, where
would he go. Both he and I know this district well."
The man paused a moment, standing perfectly still. Then, on a sudden,
with an exclamation, he set off running towards the hills.
He did not return until long after nightfall; and then it was with the
joyful news that he had found his brother, sound asleep—beside three
boxes of German ammunition.
Without delay, guided by Fernando, the whole party set off in haste.
They found Cortes, sleeping heavily, in a little dried-up watercourse
well screened by trees. It was characteristic of Fernando that he had
not awakened his brother.
Harry bent down and touched the sleeper on the shoulder. The man sat
up, rubbed his eyes, and then looked about him. The light of the moon
fell full upon his face.
Harry grasped his hand and shook it warmly.
"You escaped?" he cried.
"Yes," said Cortes. "When we charged through the Germans, my foot
struck against a boulder and I fell upon my face. I think the fall did
some injury to my wound—the wound I had received from the Black Dog;
for, when I tried to run, I found myself unable to do so.
"You were then some distance ahead of me," he continued. "I feared I
would be overtaken. For a moment I knew not what to do. Then I came to
a place where there was a great hole in the ground covered with bushes,
and there I hid, allowing the Germans to pass.
"When they had gone, I got to my feet and tried to think matters out. I
knew where my brother would take you; I knew he would go to the old
fort. I might have rejoined you by way of the tunnel. I thought of
doing so, but in the end I decided to go in search of ammunition, of
which I thought you might possibly run short. British Government
ammunition would be no good, as—with the exception of one Express—we
have all got Mauser rifles. So three times I crept by night into the
German camp, and each time returned with a box of ammunition. I secured
also a haversack of revolver ammunition. Their sentries are sleepy
dogs."
"You did splendidly!" cried Harry. "We are absolutely without a round."
"I knew you were in the fort," Cortes went on, "and I guessed you would
go to the British camp. It was there that I blazed the tree whilst the
troops were marching away. I returned to the hills, because I was tired
and wished to sleep. If my brother found the blaze I knew he would
follow me here."
The man smiled. He had every reason to be proud.
After a while the younger guide spoke again.
"The Black Dog still lives?" he asked.
Fernando bowed his head.
The following morning they began the final stage of their march towards
the frontier of Maziriland. The route led them along the crest-line of
the hills, and thence across a valley thick with undergrowth and jungle,
where the heat was tropical and humid. They were glad to reach high
ground once again, and set forward across the plateau beyond which the
Maziri mountains stood up like a line of thrones.
These same mountains had been plainly visible from the old fort they had
held so gallantly against the Germans, and had even appeared quite near
at hand. But in these high altitudes the atmosphere was exceedingly
clear, and, besides, the mountains were of great height, dominating the
surrounding country far into the interior of the Cameroons.
It took them in all six more days to reach the frontier, when once again
they found themselves in the midst of hidden dangers.
They had no idea of what manner of reception they would receive from the
Maziris themselves; indeed, concerning this strange race very little is
known, either to anthropologists or explorers.
It is generally supposed that the Maziris are a race that emigrated from
north-eastern Africa very early in the known history of the world. Their
features are aquiline, their lips thin, and the colour of their skin no
more than brown. Not only are they certainly not a Negroid race, but
they do not appear to have intermarried with the neighbouring Negro
tribes in the Cameroons. It is possible they are direct descendants of
the ancient Egyptians, though it must remain a mystery how they brought
to the wilds of Western Africa the religion and traditional customs of
the followers of Zoroaster.
As soon as they had crossed the frontier, Cortes and Fernando guided the
party towards the west, in which direction were the caves. This also
was the most deserted part of the country, nearly all the Maziri
villages being towards the east, where the country was more fertile and
suitable for pasture.
There is to be found in a certain part of Africa—far from the sites of
the famous cities of the Pharaohs—indisputable evidence of an extremely
ancient civilization. Even so far south as Mashonaland, are ruins of
towns which could only have been originally constructed by highly
civilized peoples. Ancient Egyptian history, the writings of the Greek
historian Herodotus, as well as the Old Testament itself, place it
beyond all doubt that the Egyptians, the Persians and Phoenicians spread
their learning and their influence far into the interior of what, until
only a few years ago, was the Dark Continent—unexplored, unmapped and
quite unknown. It can only be supposed that Maziriland was a relic of
the early civilization of the East, in much the same way as the
inhabitants of northern Spain are distantly related to the Irish.
Before we enter this strange, mysterious country, it must be placed on
record that there befell a certain tragedy. In a word, Peter Klein,
having contracted a fever in the jungle, and, being much weakened in
constitution by the nerve-strain and the hardships he had undergone,
fell into a rapid decline—and died, as he had lived, pleading to be
spared.
His companions buried him one evening among the rock-strewn, lonely
mountains, and he goes out of this story as he came into it—a poor,
mean object, a man of no account.
As for our four adventurers, daylight the next morning found them once
more upon the hill-tops, shrouded in the mists. For fear of the Maziris
the guides led the party by a roundabout way, giving the valleys, and
even the lower mountain slopes, a wide berth; for there they were more
likely to fall in with parties of the inhabitants.
On the next day, from the far south, there came a noise like thunder
that continued until the afternoon. Hour by hour the British guns spoke
in the distance. The Germans were being hounded from the Cameroons.
Day by day, as they continued their journey, the firing was repeated,
growing fainter and more distant as they advanced. On the fifth day
after Klein’s death, they turned towards the north-west, and that
evening crossed a valley. Beyond was a grass-covered plateau where wild
asses grazed. The plateau dropped suddenly in a sheer wall of cliff,
and they were obliged to walk many miles to find a place where they
could descend.
At length they reached a mountain-top. Immediately opposite was another
mountain, up which there was a path leading to a flight of steps. The
steps ended suddenly in a black, yawning hole in the mountain-side. So
far as the inhabitants were concerned the country appeared absolutely
deserted. It was a barren inhospitable waste.
"Have we much farther to go?" asked Harry, turning to the elder guide.
"Tell me, in which direction are the caves?"
"Yonder," said Fernando, pointing to the black hole in the mountain
slope. "Yonder are the Caves of Zoroaster. There lies the treasure
which the Black Dog and von Hardenberg have come all these thousands of
miles to gain."
In single file, Cortes leading the way, they descended towards the
valley.