CHAPTER III.

ON THE MARCH AGAIN.

"Africa! Africa!" was the terrible word that echoed and re-echoed in

the mind of Dick Sands. As he pondered over the events of the preceding

weeks he could now understand why, notwithstanding the rapid progress

of the ship, the land seemed ever to be receding, and why the voyage

had been prolonged to twice its anticipated length. It remained,

however, a mystery inexplicable as before, how and when they had

rounded Cape Horn and passed into another ocean. Suddenly the idea

flashed upon him that the compass must have been tampered with; and he

remembered the fall of the first compass; he recalled the night when he

had been roused by Tom's cry of alarm that Negoro had fallen against

the binnacle. As he recollected these circumstances he became more and

more convinced that it was Negoro who was the mainspring of all the

mischief; that it was he who had contrived the loss of the "Pilgrim,"

and compromised the safety of all on board.

What had been the career, what could be the motives of a man who was

capable of such vile machinations?

But shrouded in mystery as were the events of the past, the present

offered a prospect equally obscure.

Beyond the fact that he was in Africa and a hundred miles from the

coast, Dick knew absolutely nothing. He could only conjecture that he

was in the fatal province of Angola, and assured as he was that Harris

had acted the traitor, he was led to the conclusion that he and Negoro

had been playing into each other's hands. The result of the collision,

he feared, might be very disastrous to the survivors of the "Pilgrim."

Yet, in what manner would the odious stratagem be accomplished? Dick

could well understand that the negroes would be sold for slaves; he

could only too easily imagine that upon himself Negoro would wreak the

vengeance he had so obviously been contemplating; but for Mrs. Weldon

and the other helpless members of the party what fate could be in store?

The situation was terrible, but yet Dick did not flinch; he had been

appointed captain, and captain he would remain; Mrs. Weldon and her

little son had been committed to his charge, and he was resolved to

carry out his trust faithfully to the end.

For several hours he remained wrapped in thought, pondering over the

present and the future, weighing the evil chances against the good,

only to be convinced that the evil much preponderated. At length he

rose, firm, resolute, calm. The first glimmer of dawn was breaking upon

the forest. All the rest of the party, except Tom, were fast asleep.

Dick Sands crept softly up to the old negro, and whispered:--

"Tom, you know now where we are!"

"Yes, yes, Mr. Dick, only too well I know it. We are in Africa!"

The old man sighed mournfully.

"Tom," said Dick, in the same low voice, "you must keep this a secret;

you must not say a word to let Mrs. Weldon or any of the others know."

The old man murmured his assent, and Dick continued:--

"It will be quite enough for them to learn that we have been betrayed

by Harris, and that we must consequently practise extra care and

watchfulness; they will merely think we are taking precautions against

being surprised by nomad Indians. I trust to your good sense, Tom, to

assist me in this."

"You may depend upon me, Mr. Dick; and I can promise you that we will

all do our best to prove our courage, and to show our devotion to your

service."

[Illustration: "You must keep this a secret"]

Thus assured of Tom's co-operation, Dick proceeded to deliberate upon

his future line of action. He had every reason to believe that the

treacherous American, startled by the traces of the slaves and the

unexpected roaring of the lion, had taken flight before he had

conducted his victims to the spot where they were to be attacked, and

that consequently some hours might elapse before he would be joined by

Negoro, who (to judge from Dingo's strange behaviour) had undoubtedly

for the last few days been somewhere on their track.

Here was a delay that might be turned to good account, and no time was

to be lost in taking advantage of it to commence their return journey

to the coast. If, as Dick had every reason to suppose, he was in

Angola, he hoped to find, either north or south, some Portuguese

settlement whence he could obtain the means of transporting his party

to their several homes.

But how was this return journey to be accomplished? It would be

difficult, not to say imprudent, to retrace their footsteps through the

forest; it would merely bring them to their starting-point, and would,

moreover, afford an easy track for Negoro or his accomplices to follow.

The safest and most secret means of reaching the coast would assuredly

be by descending the course of some river. This would have to be

effected by constructing a strong raft, from which the little party,

well armed, might defend themselves alike from attacks either of the

natives or of wild beasts, and which would likewise afford a

comfortable means of transport for Mrs. Weldon and her little boy, who

were now deprived of the use of Harris's horse. The negroes, it is

true, would be only too pleased to carry the lady on a litter of

branches, but this would be to occupy the services of two out of five,

and under the circumstances it was manifestly advisable that all hands

should be free to act on the defensive. Another great inducement

towards the plan was that Dick Sands felt himself much more at home in

travelling by water than by land, and was longing to be once again upon

what to him was, as it were, his native element. He little dreamt that

he was devising for himself the very plan that Harris, in his

speculations, had laid down for him!

The most urgent matter was now to find such a stream as would suit

their purpose. Dick had several reasons for feeling sure that one

existed in the neighbourhood. He knew that the little river, which fell

into the Atlantic near the spot where the "Pilgrim" stranded, could not

extend very far either to the north or east, because the horizon was

bounded in both directions by the chain of mountains which he had taken

for the Cordilleras. If the stream did not rise in those hills it must

incline to the south, so that in either case Dick was convinced he

could not be long in discovering it or one of its affluents. Another

sign, which he recognized as hopeful, was that during the last few

miles of the march the soil had become moist and level, whilst here and

there the appearance of tiny rivulets indicated that an aqueous network

existed in the subsoil. On the previous day, too, the caravan had

skirted a rushing torrent, of which the waters were tinged with oxide

of iron from its sloping banks.

Dick's scheme was to make his way back as far as this stream, which

though not navigable itself would in all probability empty itself into

some affluent of greater importance. The idea, which he imparted to

Tom, met with the old negro's entire approval.

As the day dawned the sleepers, one by one, awoke. Mrs. Weldon laid

little Jack in Nan's arms. The child was still dozing; the fever had

abated, but he looked painfully white and exhausted after the attack.

"Dick," said Mrs. Weldon, after looking round her, "where is Mr.

Harris? I cannot see him."

"Harris has left us," answered Dick very quietly.

"Do you mean that he has gone on ahead?"

"No, madam, I mean that he has left us, and gone away entirely: he is

in league with Negoro."

"In league with Negoro!" cried Mrs. Weldon, "Ah, I have had a fancy

lately that there has been something wrong: but why? what can be their

motive?"

"Indeed I am unable to tell you," replied Dick; "I only know that we

have no alternative but to return to the coast immediately if we would

escape the two rascals."

[Illustration: "Harris has left us"]

"I only wish I could catch them," said Hercules, who had overheard the

conversation; "I would soon knock their heads together;" and he shook

his two fists in giving emphasis to his words.

"But what will become of my boy?" cried Mrs. Weldon, in tones of

despondency; "I have been so sanguine in procuring him the comforts of

San Felice."

"Master Jack will be all right enough, madam, when we get into a more

healthy situation near the coast," said Tom.

"But is there no farm anywhere near? no village? no shelter?" she

pleaded.

"None whatever, madam; I can only repeat that it is absolutely

necessary that we make the best of our way back to the sea-shore."

"Are you quite sure, Dick, that Mr. Harris has deceived us?"

Dirk felt that he should be glad to avoid any discussion on the

subject, but with a warning glance at Tom, he proceeded to say that on

the previous night he and Tom had discovered the American's treachery,

and that if he had not instantly taken to his horse and fled he would

have answered for his guilt with his life. Without, however, dwelling

for a moment more than he could avoid upon the past, he hurried on to

detail the means by which he now proposed to reach the sea, concluding

by the assertion that he hoped a very few miles' march would bring them

to a stream on which they might be able to embark.

Mrs. Weldon, thoroughly ignoring her own weakness, professed her

readiness not only to walk, but to carry Jack too. Bat and Austin at

once volunteered to carry her in a litter; of this the lady would not

hear, and bravely repeated her intention of travelling on foot,

announcing her willingness to start without further delay. Dick Sands

was only too glad to assent to her wish.

"Let me take Master Jack," said Hercules; "I shall be out of my element

if I have nothing to carry."

The giant, without waiting for a reply, took the child from Nan's arms

so gently that he did not even rouse him from his slumber.

The weapons were next carefully examined, and the provisions, having

been repacked into one parcel, were consigned to the charge of Actæon,

who undertook to carry them on his back.

Cousin Benedict, whose wiry limbs seemed capable of bearing any amount

of fatigue, was quite ready to start. It was doubtful whether he had

noticed Harris's disappearance; he was suffering from a loss which to

him was of far greater importance. He had mislaid his spectacles and

magnifying-glass. It had happened that Bat had picked them up in the

long grass, close to the spot where the amateur naturalist had been

lying, but acting on a hint from Dick Sands, he said nothing about

them; in this way the entomologist, who, without his glasses could

scarcely see a yard beyond his face, might be expected to be kept

without trouble in the limits of the ranks, and having been placed

between Actæon and Austin with strict injunctions not to leave their

side, he followed them as submissively as a blind man in

leading-strings.

The start was made. But scarcely had the little troop advanced fifty

yards upon their way, when Tom suddenly cried out,--

"Where's Dingo?"

With all the force of his tremendous lungs, Hercules gave a series of

reverberating shouts:--

"Dingo! Dingo! Dingo!"

Not a bark could be distinguished in reply

"Dingo! Dingo! Dingo!" again echoed in the air.

But all was silence.

Dick was intensely annoyed at the non-appearance of the dog; his

presence would have been an additional safeguard in the event of any

sudden surprise.

"Perhaps he has followed Harris," suggested Tom.

"Far more likely he is on the track of Negoro," rejoined Dick.

"Then Negoro, to a dead certainty," said Hercules, "will put a bullet

into his head."

"It is to be hoped," replied Bat, "that Dingo will strangle him first."

Dick Sands, disguising his vexation, said,

"At any rate, we have no time to wait for the animal now: if he is

alive, he will not fail to find us out. Move on, my lads! move on!"

The weather was very hot; ever since daybreak heavy clouds had been

gathering upon the horizon, and it seemed hardly likely that the day

would pass without a storm. Fortunately the woods were sufficiently

light to ensure a certain amount of freshness to the surface of the

soil. Here and there were large patches of tall, rank grass enclosed by

clumps of forest trees. In some places, fossilized trunks, lying on the

ground, betokened the existence of one of the coal districts that are

common upon the continent of Africa. Along the glades the carpet of

verdure was relieved by crimson stems and a variety of flowers;

ginger-blossoms, blue and yellow, pale lobelias, and red orchids

fertilized by the numerous insects that incessantly hovered about them.

The trees did not grow in impenetrable masses of one species, but

exhibited themselves in infinite variety. There was also a species of

palm producing an oil locally much valued; there were cotton-plants

growing in bushes eight or ten feet high, the cotton attached in long

shreds to the ligneous stalks; and there were copals from which,

pierced by the proboscis of certain insects, exudes an odorous resin

that flows on to the ground and is collected by the natives. Then there

were citrons and wild pomegranates and a score of other arborescent

plants, all testifying to the fertility of this plateau of Central

Africa. In many places, too, the air was fragrant with the odour of

vanilla, though it was not possible to discover the shrub from which

the perfume emanated.

In spite of it being the dry season, so that the soil had only been

moistened by occasional storms, all trees and plants were flourishing

in great luxuriance. It was the time of year for fever, but, according

to Dr. Livingstone's observation, the disorder may generally be cured

by quitting the locality where it has been contracted. Dick expressed

his hope that, in little Jack's case, the words of the great traveller

would be verified, and in encouragement of this sanguine view, pointed

out to Mrs. Weldon that although it was past the time for the

periodical return of the fever, the child was still slumbering quietly

in Hercules' arms.

The march was continued with as much rapidity as was consistent with

caution. Occasionally, where the bushes and brushwood had been broken

down by the recent passage of men or beasts, progress was comparatively

easy; but much more frequently, greatly to Dick's annoyance, obstacles

of various sorts impeded their advance. Climbing plants grew in such

inextricable confusion that they could only be compared to a ship's

rigging involved in hopeless entanglement; there were creepers

resembling curved scimitars, thickly covered with sharp thorns; there

were likewise strange growths, like vegetable serpents, fifty or sixty

feet long, which seemed to have a cruel faculty for torturing every

passenger with their prickly spines. Axe in hand, the negroes had

repeatedly to cut their road through these bewildering obstructions

that clothed the trees from their summit to their base.

Animal life was no less remarkable in its way than the vegetation.

Birds in great variety flitted about in the ample foliage, secure from

any stray shot from the little band, whose chief object it was to

preserve its incognito. Guinea-fowls were seen in considerable numbers,

francolins in several varieties, and a few specimens of the bird to

which the Americans, in imitation of their note, have given the name of

"whip-poor-will." If Dick had not had too much evidence in other ways

to the contrary, he might almost have imagined himself in a province of

the New World.

Hitherto they had been unmolested by any dangerous wild beasts. During

the present stage of their march a herd of giraffes, startled by their

unexpected approach, rushed fleetly past; this time, however, without

being represented as ostriches. Occasionally a dense cloud of dust on

the edge of the prairie, accompanied by a sound like the roll of

heavily-laden chariots, betokened the flight of a herd of buffaloes;

but with these exceptions no animal of any magnitude appeared in view.

[Illustration: The march was continued with as much rapidity as was

consistent with caution.]

For about two miles Dick followed the course of the rivulet, in the

hope that it would emerge into a more important stream, which would

convey them without much difficulty or danger direct to the sea.

Towards noon about three miles had been accomplished, and a halt was

made for rest. Neither Negoro nor Harris had been seen, nor had Dingo

reappeared. The encampment for the midday refreshment was made under

the shelter of a clump of bamboos, which effectually concealed them

all. Few words were spoken during the meal. Mrs. Weldon could eat

nothing; she had again taken her little boy into her arms, and seemed

wholly absorbed in watching him. Again and again Dick begged her to

take some nourishment, urging upon her the necessity of keeping up her

strength.

"We shall not be long in finding a good current to carry us to the

coast," said the lad brightly.

Mrs. Weldon raised her eyes to his animated features. With so sanguine

and resolute a leader, with such devoted servants as the five negroes

in attendance, she felt that she ought not utterly to despair. Was she

not, after all, on friendly soil? what great harm could Harris

perpetrate against her or her belongings? She would hope still, hope

for the best.

Rejoiced as he was to see something of its former brightness return to

her countenance, Dick nevertheless had scarcely courage steadily to

return her searching gaze. Had she known the whole truth, he knew that

her heart must fail her utterly.

Dick Sands, the Boy Captain · 第 3 / 20 章