TURN ABOUT
Three of the warriors bore hide shields and spears, which Bob knew
to be those given him and his comrades by Chief Ruku-Ru upon their
induction into the clan as warriors. The bearers carried no such war
paraphernalia. And these had been taken from the baggage. The others
handled wicked-appearing clubs studded with spikes, such as
sometimes were used in battling smaller animals.
All six were the tallest and best formed amongst the bearers. And
hastily though they had bedaubed themselves, yet the job had been
thorough-going. As he looked at the grinning mask on the chest of
the tallest who was to enact the role of leader, Bob shuddered
involuntarily.
So noiseless had been the entry of the party into the tent that Jack
and Frank still slept soundly and Wimba, who knew the location of
every object in the tent, experienced no difficulty in collecting
the automatics lying close to each sleeper. Bob nodded approval.
Here was something of which he had failed to take account. Good for
Wimba. He wasn’t taking any chances on having his men potted before
explanations could be made.
Then Wimba with a toe stirred first Jack and then Frank, and as they
opened their eyes Bob composed his features into a glare of angry
surprise in keeping with the role he had set himself to act.
Both newly-roused boys struggled upright, as did Bob. And beside
each a warrior with knobbed club threateningly upraised sprang to
take his place. Fear written in every feature, Wimba stood cringing
in the middle of the tent, gazing from one to the other of the boys
and trying to speak, but experiencing difficulty, apparently, in
emitting any sound at all. He was the picture of a man in mortal
terror. And Bob almost forgot himself and the part he must play, in
his delight at Wimba’s histrionic abilities.
As for Jack and Frank, so real did it all seem to them that there
was no thought in their minds but what a terrible calamity had
befallen the party. The camp had been raided, and at the very moment
when they believed themselves in friendly territory and had not
considered it necessary to post guards. Wimba was a prisoner. And
some ghastly fate undoubtedly awaited themselves. Jack and Frank
both were pale. And seeing them glance about wildly, as if in search
of their revolvers, Bob was mightily pleased that Wimba’s
forethought had removed the weapons from reach.
Before either Frank or Jack could speak, Bob took charge of the
situation. Glaring ferociously as the black warrior towering above
him with upraised club, who glared just as ferociously at him in
return, Bob shouted to Wimba:
“What’s the meaning of this, Wimba?”
“Him Bone Crusher’s warriors, baas,” returned the latter in tones of
purest terror. “Oh, baas, save Wimba.”
“The Bone Crusher’s men?” shouted Bob. “Why, we left their vicinity
days ago.”
“Very angry clan,” returned Wimba. “They follow. Say white young men
spoil their plans. So now they capture white young men.”
Bob groaned, and casting a glance of despair toward Jack and Frank,
he added in a husky voice: “This looks tough, fellows. If we’d only
kept a guard.”
“Can’t we fight ’em.” Frank was shaky-voiced but game.
“I’d be the last fellow to hold back,” said Bob. “But what chance
would we have? Cumbered up in these blankets and without weapons?
We’d just get our heads split open.”
“Wh—what of father and Niellsen?” asked Jack. He was terrified and
showed it. And who could blame him? Nevertheless, his thought was
not for himself but his father.
“I’m prisoner, too, baas,” said Wimba, mournfully.
Jack groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Look here, Wimba,”
said Bob, “ask that big chief what they intend to do with us, and
when they’re going to begin.”
Wimba and the majestic-looking leader of the war party conversed
rapidly in the Kikuyu tongue. Then Wimba turned to Bob. There was
respect in the tone with which he addressed him.
“Um Bone Crusher’s men say Mikalwa great fighter. Bone Crusher gone,
so they want Mikalwa for chief.”
“What? Who’s Mikalwa? Me?”
Wimba nodded. And the tall leader approached Bob and bowed low
before him.
“Fine,” shouted Bob, leaping to his feet. “Then there’s nothing to
worry about. I’ll just order you fellows set free.” And he turned
toward Jack and Frank.
But Wimba shook his head.
“Mikalwa to be chief,” he said. “But others must die. Mikalwa can’t
save them.”
Bob struck an heroic attitude, arms folded across his chest. The
fact that he was in pajamas, and that the pants were slipping down
while the jacket hung together by only one button, rather spoiled
the effect. But nobody laughed. The situation was too serious for
Jack and Frank, whose anxious gaze roved from Bob to Wimba to the
leader of the raiders and back to Bob again.
“Tell them, Wimba,” cried Bob, “tell these rascals that Mikalwa
prefers to die with his own people. If he cannot set his friends
free, he will not become their chief. They must treat him as one of
their prisoners.”
“Bob, Bob,” begged Frank, in a broken voice, “don’t throw away your
only chance.”
At the tone employed by his closest friend, big Bob began to weaken.
Poor Frank’s feelings had been harrowed sufficiently, and Jack’s,
too, he thought, to atone in full for the playing of that snake
trick on him the night before. However, he was nearing the end of
the little drama which he had concocted with Wimba, and so he
decided to play it out.
Wimba in the meantime, as soon as Bob had finished speaking had
addressed the pseudo-chief.
The latter replied, and Wimba turning with beaming face cried
joyfully:
“Him say all right, baas. If Mikalwa be big chief him can set all
friends free.”
“Good,” shouted Bob. And turning toward his astounded comrades,
still seated in their blankets, he flung out both hands in a
magnificent gesture, as if showering largess upon them. “Fellows,”
he cried, “receive your freedom at the hands of Big Chief Mikalwa,
otherwise known as”—he paused for dramatic effect, then added—“the
snake charmer.”
Spinning about he laughed and said: “All right, Wimba. Show’s over.
Give each of the actors an extra help of tobacco. I’m proud of you
and your troupe.”
Wimba spoke rapidly to the others, and on each face broke out a
broad smile while the trio standing guard over the boys lowered
their clubs and relaxed their hostile attitude. The smiles gave way
to chuckles as the Negroes took in the dazed expression spreading
over the features of Frank and Jack. And then as Bob, unable longer
to control his mirth, broke into loud laughter, the Negroes followed
suit.
With a vigorous thrust of his bare foot against the chest of each,
Bob sent Jack and Frank toppling backward into their blankets. With
a wave of the hand, he indicated Wimba and his impromptu minstrel
troupe should withdraw. And while Jack and Frank still were
struggling to right themselves and, at the same time, to readjust
their reeling thoughts to this outrageous development of the
situation, the chuckling Kikuyus filed out with Wimba bringing up
the rear and casting knowing grins over his shoulder at Bob.
“Look here,” said Jack, sitting up and regarding Bob with a rueful
expression, “did you honestly put those Johnnies up to that?”
“I can’t believe it yet,” said Frank, running his fingers through
his uncombed hair.
Bob laughed. “Just a little show for your benefit,” he said. “I
thought you’d appreciate what real talent could do—after your own
puny effort last night.”
“I’ll bet I’m still as white as those ghastly Negroes were painted,”
said Jack. “I don’t expect to find my natural youthful color
restored for a week at least.”
Frank said nothing, but getting up went over to Bob and offered his
hand.
“Yours was a jolly good job, old boy,” he said. “Ours was a kind of
mean trick. Sorry.”
Once more amity was restored. And Mr. Hampton appearing at the
entrance to the tent at that moment, all three began rehearsing
together the story of recent occurrences. What between their
bubbling laughter and their frequent interruptions of each other, it
was difficult for the older man to gain a real appreciation of what
had occurred. Finally, he threw up his hands.
“One at a time, one at a time,” he pleaded. “And, anyway, save it up
to tell me later. We must get under way at once, if we are going to
ford this river today.”