THE WHITE PIGMIES
As Burt obeyed it seemed to him that the Scotchman was taking the
situation very coolly. The little thin man sat silently with his eyes on
those of Mr. Wallace and only his quivering nostrils denoted the emotion
that must have consumed him.
"Now, Captain Montenay," resumed Mr. Wallace when Burt was again seated,
"let's have a little explanation." Burt saw that his uncle's face looked
as he had seen it on the night when his compass disappeared. "In the
first place you stole our compasses."
"I did not!" Captain Mac gave a harsh little laugh. "Ye have yer own, or
what's left of it. I've got the other two in my pocket. I removed 'em
temporarily so to speak. Be more choice in yer use o' words, man."
"Secondly, you've been leading us astray."
"Aye," retorted Captain Mac, "but I didn't give ye the credit for
findin' it out so quick."
"Now you propose to leave us here, on the edge of the jungle country,"
continued Mr. Wallace. "There are three things that are open to
explanation, Captain Montenay. I am sorry to use this method of
persuasion but it seems to be necessary." The little man's face lost its
look of half-malicious mockery and for a moment he did not answer but
stared over the head of Mr. Wallace at the afternoon sun.
"If I'm not wantin' to tell, man, I'm thinkin' ye'd have a hard job to
make me," was his answer at last.
"If you won't tell," snapped out Mr. Wallace, "I'll tie you up here and
now and carry you back to Boma. You know what you'd get there."
"Aye. Is that yer final deceesion?"
"It is. Explain or go to Boma."
"Vera good. Gi' me the gun, lad." To Burt's vast surprise his uncle
nodded and replaced his weapon. As Captain Mac quietly buckled the
restored revolver about his waist his face broke into a wrinkled smile.
"It'll be a longish yarn, Wallace." There was no trace of animosity in
his tone. "Let's finish eatin' an' when I get the old pipe between my
teeth I'll feel like talkin'."
Their meal was finished in silence. Before Captain Mac gave his
explanation, however, a startling event happened. It seemed that a dozen
men of the village had remained with the bodies of the elephants to
remove more of the meat. Just as Captain Mac was filling his ancient and
evil-smelling pipe a native rushed into camp shouting something that
sent the pipe to the ground and the captain to his feet.
The native came up and fell on his face. After a hasty exchange of
question and answer Captain Mac turned to the others and Burt saw that a
strange light stood in his dark and rather sad eyes.
"Get out the medicines, Wallace. We've got seven dying men on our hands.
We may save one or two with serum and morphia."
"Why, what do you mean?" cried Mr. Wallace, giving a shout for John.
When the trusty cook had been dispatched for the medicine chop-box
Captain Mac explained further.
"Those chaps we left wi' the beasts yonder drove off some Wambuti
pigmies, bein' utter fools and prob'ly ignorant o' what the dwarfs
were. They got a shower o' poisoned arrows in return. A bunch from the
village just found 'em an' are bringin' 'em in here."
John arrived with the medicine case and Mr. Wallace got out his serums
and syringes while the boys stared at each other in amazement.
"That's what them dirty little black arrow-points do," said Critch in a
low tone. Just then a band of men came running into the camp. On their
shoulders they bore rude litters which they set down before Mr. Wallace
with gestures of despair.
On the litters lay seven men. All were gray with pain and sweating
profusely. As they lay there Burt could see their naked breasts rise and
fall with the increased palpitation caused by the poison. The matter of
Captain Mac was forgotten on the instant, as all four went to work in a
desperate effort to save the wounded men. The captain hastily loaded the
hypodermic syringes and handed them to the other three, who injected the
contents into the arms of the wounded as rapidly as possible. While this
was going on the camp was surrounded by the villagers, and only the
leveled guns of John and the other men held them outside.
One of the men died just as Mr. Wallace was treating him, although
neither of the boys noticed it until they had finished. Then the wounds
were cauterized, a task which was not relished by the boys. In fact, the
smell of burning flesh was nearly too much for Burt, who retired
temporarily.
"There," and Captain Mac straightened up with a sigh of relief, "I guess
that's all we can do, Wallace."
"Will they recover?" asked the American quietly, washing the syringe.
The other shrugged his shoulders.
"Mayhap. Don't let the village people have 'em, John. The witch doctor'd
kill 'em sure. They'll sleep till morning. If they wake they can be
thankin' us for it."
Critch said nothing. He was pale and his knees felt shaky, for their
task had been no pleasant one, and he fervently trusted that they would
have no more poisoned arrows in future. A few moments later all were
once more gathered about the table in the dining-tent, where Burt
rejoined them. Montenay calmly refilled his pipe and began.
"As I was sayin', Wallace, the yarn is a long one. I'm thinkin' it'll no
bore ye to listen, though," and the Scotchman chuckled.
"Fire away," smiled Wallace grimly. "We have time to burn." For a moment
the other puffed away in silence, his eyes fixed on the tent-wall behind
Burt. Then he began his story, the strangest story which the two
American boys had ever listened to.
"Two years ago, it was. I started out o' Nairobi wi' the most elegant
bunch o' fightin' men ye could find. Took me nigh a month to select 'em.
I laid it out as a scientific trip, to the British authorities, but the
men knew better. I bought 'em all trade-guns wi' lots of ammunition, for
I was after two things.
"Trip before that, I had met up with an Arab dealer called Yusuf Ben
Salir, what misused me like a nigger. He was a slave-merchant on the
quiet, an' would ha' sold me upcountry if I hadn't got away. I was after
him first, and ivory next. We headed off for the Congo line, baggin' a
little ivory as we went.
"One day we learned from the natives that Yusuf was twenty mile ahead of
us wi' plenty o' tusks and a big trade-caravan. Two days later we
caught up, formin' a zareba near his. He had twice as many men, but mine
were picked, ye remember.
"Well, the details o' what happened don't matter. We were busy for three
days, and I will admit that Yusuf had his merits as a fighter. But at
the last his nerve failed him, and when we rushed his zareba, he and his
men made their getaway--leaving everything behind. While I was lookin'
over his stuff I found two things wrapped up in oilskin.
"One was a queer shaped bit o' wood which I flung away, like a fool. The
other was a bit o' cloth with Arabic written on it. I can read the
lingo, and I made out that Yusuf had been down near the pigmy country
an' had run across some yarn about white pigmies."
"White pigmies!" ejaculated Mr. Wallace in astonishment, while a look of
keen interest swept across his face. "Then the story was so!"
"What story?" asked Montenay sharply.
"Why, a tradition I heard up in the Sahara, that there was a white race
of small people somewhere down this way. The Arab who told me was
mighty reticent about it, and I gathered that there was some queer
religious feature to the tradition, if it was one."
"It was not," asserted Montenay, betraying signs of excitement for the
first time, and leaning forward. "Wallace, it was fact! I found the
white pigmies!"
"What!" A simultaneous cry went up from his three listeners and Mr.
Wallace's eagle-face was bent sternly upon the narrator.
"Careful, Montenay!" he said with repressed eagerness. "Remember you are
not talking to green hands!"
"Man, it's the truth!" There could be no doubt of Captain Mac's
sincerity as he leaned forward and met the American's gaze. There was
more than sincerity in his eyes. There was an appeal for belief, a
conviction, that won over the others instantly. "The truth! But that's
only the least of it."
"And your proofs?" inquired Mr. Wallace crisply.
"Proofs enough," rejoined the other, more calmly, "in their time. I
didn't take much stock in the Arabic stuff, but I thought I'd take a
shot at it. I sent half o' the boys back wi' the ivory and a plausible
story o' how we came to get so much. Then I asked the rest if they'd go
with me.
"After the way we'd wiped up Yusuf, they were ready for anythin'. After
all was fixed up we started, fifty boys an' me. We worked down slowly
from the high country, takin' it easy an' gatherin' in spoils as we
went. Finally we got down to the jungle an' touched the edge o' the
pigmy country. Then it began.
"We had no trouble till we started inquirin' through some o' the pigmies
that come in to trade. As soon as we asked about their white relations
the camp emptied like a flash. The last little deevil out turned an' put
an arrow through one o' my boys.
"It was just a massacre, man. The boys were fair ragin' at the way they
were shot down, and I pushed 'em ahead fast. We went through that jungle
like a whirlwind. Finally there were only seven boys left, an' they
refused to go any farther. Didn't do 'em any good, for the next day the
pigmies rushed us. I was pretty well played out by that time, as ye can
judge. When the smoke blew away five o' my boys were laid out, and I
was tied up with the other two. If I hadn't been so obstinate about
pushin' on we might ha' pulled out.
"However, we put a good face on it. They treated us fine, but kept us on
the jump for a week, movin' from place to place through the jungle. For
another week we were stuck in one o' them pigmy villages. Queerly
enough, they hadn't touched a thing belongin' to us except the guns an'
chop-boxes an' general camp stuff.
"'Bout the end o' the second week they routed us out early one mornin',
highly excited. When we got outside we found the whole village squattin'
around ten new chaps, who were armed wi' trade-guns and seemed to boss
things pretty general. But what struck me was that while they were of
the same size as the rest, they were white."
"White!" exclaimed Mr. Wallace again. His thin cheeks were dashed with
color, and his brilliant eyes showed that he no longer doubted the truth
of Montenay's story. The latter nodded quietly.
"Not white like us," he continued, "but as white as an Arab or
thereabouts. Their faces showed more intelligence than those o' the
blacks, an' they seemed to be overlords o' the--"
"Hold on!" Mr. Wallace broke in with a puzzled frown. "Surely you don't
mean that, Mac! There could be no feudal system of that sort here in the
very heart of Africa! The blacks haven't the brains--"
"Aye, but the whites have!" cried Montenay triumphantly. "These white
pigmies ain't fools by any means, as ye'll see later. Now will ye quit
interruptin' me?"
"Go ahead," laughed Mr. Wallace, and the boys saw that Captain Mac was
really so interested in his own story that he was anxious to lay it
before them without more delay.
"I meant to tell ye this yarn," he went on, "a bit later on, as ye'll
see also. The party o' whites were in command of a young chap named
Mbopo, an' we took to each other first crack. Well, they carried us off
through the jungle for a week's trip. We must ha' been on the edge o'
the pigmy country, for we traveled hard. At every pigmy village Mbopo
seemed to get reports or somethin' o' the kind, an' also tribute in the
way o' slaves. By the end o' the week there were six others besides
oursel's.
"Then we spent a day at the village o' the white pigmies. Man alive, ye
should ha' seen 'em! They seemed to live on the blacks, just like the
blacks live on the big tribes around, an' they lived well. Palm huts, o'
course, but there seemed to be a system o' government that beat
ever'thing I ever saw outside the Zulus.
"We passed through two more o' the white villages, then struck a big
stream an' followed that for a day or two. Finally we got into a bit o'
higher ground an' struck the biggest surprise of all. Just before sunset
we came out o' the forest into a stretch o' yam patches along the river.
Beyond these an' right ahead of us was the biggest village we had seen
yet--three to four hundred huts, I'd say. Outside was the whole tribe
waitin' for us. Off to one side, near the forest, was a good sized palm
hut, and around it was a zareba."
"What's queer about that?" asked Mr. Wallace, as the narrator paused for
a moment. The boys saw a smile flicker across Montenay's face.
"The zareba was made out o' ivory," was his quiet reply. Burt at once
broke into a laugh, thinking that Captain Mac was joking.
"Pretty good," he chuckled. "What'd they do--cut up the tusks into
square blocks to make a six-foot wall?" But his mirth died away suddenly
as his uncle made a silencing gesture.
"An ivory zareba," went on Montenay. "Made o' tusks, clear around the
hut. They were set with points up, curvin' out. But I didn't get much
chance to see it then. We were taken into the village and I was given a
hut to myself. The young chap, Mbopo, reported to an old, wizened
witch-doctor who was the boss. I judged he was speakin' in my favor, but
the old fellow shook his head an' waved a hand at the separate hut. The
whole crowd set up a yell o' 'Pongo!' Then they threw me into the hut.
"I stayed there for eight days, too. Ye'll mind that there were just
eight slaves an' mysel' in the party. They treated me well, fed me fine,
but every night I heard a big jamboree goin' on. On the ninth evenin'
they brought me out. The village was surrounded by the usual thorn
zareba, an' the whole tribe was gathered just inside the gates,
feastin'. Mbopo an' three others tied me up an' carried me out halfway
to the separate hut. Here they laid me on the ground beside a small
fire.
"The old wizened chap came out after us with a long iron which he stuck
in the fire. Then he pulled off my shirt an' did--this." Captain Mac
slipped down his shirt collar and exposed the scarred shoulder that
Critch had seen on the boat. As the others gathered around with
exclamations of astonishment, Burt could see that the scar was in the
form of a cross, except that a long loop took the place of the
head-piece. Besides this, the whole shoulder seemed a mass of
cicatrices.
"Yon's the shape o' the bit o' wood I found in Yusuf's packet," went on
Montenay, when Mr. Wallace interrupted him in wonder.
"Mac! Do you know what that symbol is?"
"It's the sign o' Pongo," returned the other. "From what I saw later it
had to do wi' ancient Egypt--"
"I should say it had!" ejaculated Mr. Wallace, sinking back into his
chair and staring at Montenay, who slipped his shirt back into position.
"Why, that sign is the Egyptian cross, or ankh--the symbol of life, and
the peculiar insignia of Maat, the ancient Goddess of Truth!"
"So I found out, if ye'd given me time to finish," replied Montenay
drily. "Mbopo an' the rest staked me out there an' left me. What wi' the
burn an' the insects that settled down, I was pretty nigh gone inside an
hour. The fire was out, an' just after moonrise I heard a 'pad-pad' o'
steps near by. Then a minute later I caught one glimpse of a monstrous
lion, just as he sprang an' grabbed me by the wounded shoulder. That
finished me for sure, and I fainted."