THE TIDE TURNS
The tide was turned. The next moment, as Bob, flushed with victory,
prepared to leap in amongst the wavering mass of the Bone Crusher’s
followers, Jack and Frank appeared at his side. Too well they knew
the big fellow’s rashness when his blood was up to hold back any
longer. Not that they had been holding back, however. So quickly had
Bob acted that the passage of time since he had leaped down from the
top of the wall and made his sudden attack on the Bone Crusher could
be measured in seconds.
Jack and Frank had followed at once, Wimba at Frank’s heels like a
faithful dog. Now they ranged themselves beside their comrade.
“Steady, old thing,” warned Jack, as Bob with a wild gleam in his
eyes appeared on the verge of tackling the enemy host single-handed.
“Let’s stick together. You’ve thrown an awful scare into them.”
In fact, the Bone Crusher’s men showed little stomach for fighting,
that is, for facing Bob. The mute evidence of the latter’s prowess
was at his back, where the prone figure of the Bone Crusher lay
without a quiver, since that blow on the point of the jaw.
But the lull in hostilities did not last. Chief Ruku-Ru’s men were
heartened by the turn of events in their favor. They crowded forward
with sharp yells. The flight of arrows into the mass of the enemy
began anew.
“I haven’t the heart to shoot to kill,” muttered Frank. “But if they
realize we have firearms, they may flee more quickly. I’m going to
shoot over their heads.”
He suited action to word, and began pumping away with his automatic.
It was the last thing needed to hasten the growing panic. In a
trice, conditions were reversed. The Bone Crusher’s men broke into
headlong flight, dashing away pell mell amongst the huts on the
opposite side of the village square. And the villagers streamed past
the boys in pursuit.
They found themselves practically alone in the square. Pursuit drew
away into the distance. The victorious vengeful cries of the
villagers mingling with the screams of the vanquished came back to
them. Dazedly, they gazed about at the numerous evidences of the
battle just ended, in the cowering women abandoned by their captors
and not yet fully realizing their fortunate rescue, in the bodies of
a score of men, including that of Chief Ruku-Ru and the Bone
Crusher, and in arrows scattered here and there.
“By golly, Bob,” said Frank, whose face was pale, as he thought of
the peril into which his big chum had launched himself, “I’ve seen
you do a lot of foolish things, but that was the worst. To tackle
that giant.”
“Huh,” was all the other deigned to reply.
Jack was bending above the form of Chief Ruku-Ru, and a moment later
he straightened up and beckoned the others to join him.
“Unconscious but beginning to mutter,” he said. “He’ll recover soon.
I think his right shoulder is dislocated, but I don’t believe he has
any serious injury. Let’s carry him to his hut, and I’ll try to set
his shoulder.”
With Wimba’s aid, the four boys bore the body of the chief to the
door of his hut, from which one of the chief’s wives who hastened to
join them brought out a pallet. On this they laid the unconscious
form, while Jack worked at setting the dislocated shoulder. In this
he was successful as, like all the boys, he was well drilled in
administering first aid and performing rude surgery such as mishaps
in the wilds necessitated.
Wimba and Matse rounded up the scattered bearers, and several were
despatched to the boys’ camp to obtain the medical kit. They
returned quickly, bringing the welcome intelligence that the camp
had not been disturbed by the raiders who, approaching the village
from an opposite direction, doubtless were unaware of its presence.
Thereupon, all three boys busied themselves administering to the
wounded, a score of whom were collected. Women were pressed into
service, as all the able-bodied men had joined in the pursuit of the
routed enemy. Not until many hours of toil under the hot sun had
been spent, however, was their self-imposed task of mercy completed.
Then all the wounded had been attended to and made as comfortable as
possible in the biggest hut of the chief’s enclosure, which had been
commandeered as hospital.
It was nightfall, and most of the warriors had returned, under the
leadership of Chief Ruku-Ru’s nephew, when the chief who had
recovered consciousness and, in fact, was little the worse as a
result of his encounter with the Bone Crusher, was informed that the
boys had attended to all the injured.
He met them in the village square, where already a great fire was
blazing and preparations for a big feast in celebration of the
tribe’s victory were going forward. Wimba as usual acted as
interpreter. And into his eyes came a gleam which warned the boys
something unusual was afoot, before he ever interpreted the chief’s
lengthy speech.
Lengthy though the chief’s speech had been, however, it was brief
enough on Wimba’s lips. He was not so proficient in his command of
English as to be able to render all the chief’s verbal flowers, and
contented himself accordingly with reporting the gist of what the
dusky monarch had said. Chief Ruku-Ru, one arm in a sling, in the
meantime stood smiling at one side.
“Him much honor, baas,” said Wimba, addressing Frank whom, since the
latter’s rescue of himself from death by means of the radio, he
regarded as the leader of the boys. “Him chief say him take all
three white young men into tribe and make Strong-Arm,”—indicating
Bob, with a wave of the hand—“great chief.”
That this was an honor, the boys knew enough of local history to
realize. Many African tribes degenerate when coming into contact
with white men, and for them to make such an offer would be insolent
and presumptuous. But the Kikuyus, far above the average of African
intelligence, were a proud people. And the boys realized that,
holding themselves in high esteem, the Kikuyus felt they were
bestowing an honor.
In such a spirit, they accepted it.
“Tell Chief Ruku-Ru,” said Frank to Wimba, after consulting with his
comrades, “that we shall make only one stipulation. We are very
flattered. So much so that we want Mr. Hampton here to see when the
ceremonies take place. Tell the chief that we shall summon Mr.
Hampton through the air tonight to return, and that probably he can
be back in two days. The ceremonies can be held then.”
Wimba translated this as best he could, and then interpreting the
chief’s reply stated matters would be arranged as requested.
Before permitting the boys to depart, however. Chief Ruku-Ru pressed
a bracelet of heavy silver, oddly worked by native silversmiths, and
containing a turquoise matrix, upon Bob.
They examined it in turn as they made their way back to the camp,
and many were their expressions of appreciation. The fact that it
bore a family resemblance to the silver and turquoise bracelets of
the Navajo Indians of the American Southwest was commented upon by
Jack.
“Curious,” he said, “how the same sort of workmanship, as well as
the combination of silver and turquoise, can bob up among two
primitive peoples who never heard of each other.”
“Yes, it is,” said Frank. “But what I’m thinking of is this big bum
with a bracelet. Lady stuff.” Bob made a grab for him, and the pair
began rolling over and over in the long buffalo grass.
“Ouch. Leggo,” begged Frank, almost choked with laughter.
“Take it back.”
“Sure,” gasped Frank, and Bob arose. “Only thing that would be
funnier,” cried Frank, sprinting for their tent, “would be for you
to wear a lady’s wrist watch.”
Watching his comrades, the soberer Jack smiled sympathetically. They
had all been through a trying experience, and it was natural that
their spirits should find relief in play.
Then he, too, entered the tent, after giving Wimba orders regarding
the preparation of dinner, and began tuning up to call his father
and not only make report regarding the momentous adventures of the
day, but also ask him to return so as to be present at the
ceremonies of induction into the Kikuyus.