CAMERA SHOOTING
In after days, Frank was to remember with thankfulness the gratitude
of Wimba for his “baas” or master. But now he was embarrassed, and
making light of the matter as possible without hurting the black’s
feelings he hastened along by Jack’s side across the meadow toward
the clump of tents which marked their encampment.
Leaving Jack and Frank to regale the convalescent Bob with the tale
of what had occurred under the council tree, while Wimba and Matse
put their heads together and discussed the same event surrounded by
the awe-stricken native bearers from whom Wimba, at Frank’s warning,
was careful to withhold the real explanation, let us consider
briefly how the three white boys came to be here in Central Africa.
For those of our readers who have not followed their adventures in
other parts of the world as set forth in previous volumes of The
Radio Boys Series a brief word or two of introduction is necessary.
Jack Hampton was the only son of an internationally famous engineer
and explorer, whose wife had died when Jack was only a youngster.
Frank Merrick, too, was orphaned and made his home with Bob Temple,
whose father was his guardian. The Hampton and Temple country
estates on the far end of Long Island, New York, adjoined each
other. And the three boys, companions at preparatory school and now
at Yale, were the closest of friends.
Supplied by wealthy parents with the means to gratify their
scientific bent, all three boys from the beginning of the popularity
of Radio had pushed their investigations in that field. And upon the
numerous adventures into which they had been drawn in one way or
another in South America, Alaska, their own land, and the Sahara
Desert in Africa, they had found Radio time and again prove of the
greatest service.
Now, as has been related in the previous chapters, it had again come
to the fore to help them at a crisis in their affairs.
But how did they come to be again in Africa, where the previous year
they had discovered in an unexplored mountain region in the southern
Sahara a race of white men living in a high state of development and
treasuring ancient papyrus records indicating continued existence of
the race from the earliest period of the world’s history?
That is easily explained.
So widespread was the publicity showered upon the Radio Boys, as
they had become known, following their repeated exploits in
out-of-the-way corners of the world that one of the great motion
picture concerns of America had come to them some months previously
with a fine offer. Would they accompany a cameraman into Central
Africa to explore little known or entirely unknown regions for the
purpose of filming wild animals in their natural haunts and natives
in the primitive state? That was the proposition, and, needless to
state, the motion picture concern propounding it agreed to make
acceptance worth the boys’ while.
Mr. Hampton was included in the offer. And upon his advice, coupled
with that of Mr. Temple, the boys had yielded to their natural
inclinations and had accepted.
“You boys have still some years of college ahead of you,” Mr. Temple
had said. “It may be unwise to interrupt your college career, for
such an expedition necessarily will be an interruption, as,
undoubtedly, you will be a year or two in the wilds. Nevertheless,
Central Africa cannot remain unexplored or unopened to civilization
much longer. Here is a chance such as may never come your way again.
“Sometime, doubtless, Jack will want to become an engineer and
follow in his father’s footsteps, and Frank and Bob will want to
take charge of the export business, Frank’s father before he died
and I, built up. But there is no hurry about those matters. In the
meantime, here is a chance for the three of you to go on a big game
hunting expedition with the strangest of weapons—a motion picture
camera. And you will be well paid, to boot.
“Of course, the fame you fellows have piled up brought you this
opportunity. Well, you deserve it. Three more rattle-brained rascals
with the ability always to fall on their feet I never saw.” He
smiled at them affectionately. “So,” he concluded, “I consent to Bob
and Frank going. And as Jack’s father already has consented for him
and is, besides, to head the expedition, I cannot see but what that
settles the matter.”
Here, then, they were. From Mombasa on the east coast they had made
their way on the railroad to Nairobi. This small but important
settlement, which was the administrative center of Kenya Colony,
marked their last touch with civilization.
Procuring bearers and guides, they had thence set out afoot into the
Kikuyu country. Day had followed day without striking incident. The
Kikuyus are a peaceful people, above the average of African
intelligence, inhabiting a magnificent country abounding in streams,
uplands and forest. It is one of the most healthful and fertile of
regions.
Although, despite their proximity to the advance guards of white
civilization, the boys had found the Kikuyus still living in
primitive state, nevertheless they found them peaceful. Adventures
had been few. Not only had they seldom been in any danger from the
natives, but wild animals also had been scarce.
It was not until they came to Chief Ruku-Ru’s territory where Mr.
Hampton had departed with Niellsen, the cameraman, for the dried-up
bed of a river where baboons were said to be in the habit of coming
to dig for water, that the first real adventure befell them. That
was the arrest and trial of Wimba, and his consequent release as
related.
It was only by accident that the boys were on hand. Ordinarily they
would have been with Mr. Hampton and Niellsen. But Bob’s succumbing
to fever had kept them behind to provide him with company and
attendance. Bob’s fever was not sufficiently strong enough to cause
Mr. Hampton any real anxiety, however, so, leaving the boys careful
instructions regarding the medicines to be given their comrade, he
had departed with Niellsen and a few bearers carrying camera, film
box, etc.
With this digression, let us return to camp. The quick-falling
African night was closing in and the boys were finishing
preparations for the concert which they had promised to bring out of
the air to the assembled villagers about the council tree.
Frank and Jack had just completed a complete overhauling of the
talking machine which they planned to use and were dusting off the
records of martial band music which they considered would provide
the most acceptable concert for savage ears. Bob who was feeling
considerably improved was lolling on a camp cot, watching them.
“Hey, fellows,” he said suddenly, “has it occurred to you that some
warrior more curious and less fearful than the rest might climb up
into the council tree? If one does, and if he finds the aerial or
the loudspeaker which you concealed there, good night. Even if he
ran away from it, he might damage it first so that your concert
would be a fizzle.”
Jack stopped work, a record in one hand, dusting cloth in the other.
“That’s right, Bob. Hadn’t thought of that.”
But Frank looked unconcerned.
“From what Wimba and Matse tell me,” he said, “Most Kikuyus wouldn’t
dare to climb into that sacred tree. I had a hard time getting even
those two to ascend it with me last night and help locate our traps.
And they’ve lived in Nairobi and come in contact with the whites and
have lost some of their native superstitions. And now that we caused
the voice of our mysterious spirit to emanate from the tree today, I
feel pretty sure there isn’t a Kikuyu whom you could pay to climb
it.”
Jack looked relieved, but Bob apparently was reluctant to relinquish
his idea and needed further convincing.
“Just the same,” he said, “I believe we ought to send somebody over
there to scout around for us and see that everything is all right
before we pin our hopes on giving a concert. Why not send Matse?”
“All right, if you think it’s necessary,” replied Frank. “Let’s call
him in.”
Putting aside the records he had been cleaning, he went to the door
of the tent and, lifting the flap, poked his head out to utter the
necessary call which would bring Matse from the bearer’s camp
nearby.
But the call was not issued. Instead, Bob and Jack heard Frank utter
a muffled exclamation and then step swiftly out of the tent, letting
the flap fall behind him.