BURT LEFT ALONE
"Critch," said Burt suddenly, "that was a blamed good idea while it
lasted. But it hasn't lasted. We can't do it."
"Sure we can!" returned Critch hopefully. "Why not?"
"It'd take us a year to build a deadfall like that."
"We don't need to! Ain't Pongo blind? All we have to do is rig up a
figure-four trap out o' logs."
"That'd be a nice easy job, wouldn't it!" retorted Burt. "He may be
blind but he ain't foolish. No, sir, it won't work. We just got to kill
that lion though. If we don't, Mbopo'll know we've been runnin' a bluff
on him."
"What you goin' to do?" said Critch irritably. "Sit here and let him
come?"
"Not much. Seems to me that if the lion's blind there ought to be some
way of fixing him without any danger. We're safe enough from the
pigmies while we're here with Ta-En-User, but not from the lion. Dust
your brain off! Think!"
"All right," responded Critch briskly. "Here goes for the first thing."
Without ceremony he got up and pulled over the mummy-case. "We got to
fix Mbopo sure, ain't we? Well, take hold o' this--don't bust it!"
"What you doing?" exclaimed Burt as his chum began to pry open the
mummy-case with the edge of the little axe obtained from Mbopo. Critch
paused to reply.
"It's a pipe, Burt! We'll just upwrap Ta-En-User here, see? I guess he
ain't in extra good condition but he'll do for a while. Then we'll fill
up the case with leaves and the wrappings. These pigmies have never seen
inside the case, remember. They don't know a mummy from a goat. Soon's
we get him unwrapped an' laid out in his nightie, out go the lights and
you get back in the corner.
"When Mbopo comes I'll tell 'em you did this to the ankh." Critch raised
his axe and cut a deep gash on the cross arm in the soft gold. "Then
I'll say that Pongo dried you up for insulting him. Get the point?
That'll scare 'em stiff. We'll take the ankh, the stuffed case and the
mummy back to the village."
"Yes you will!" cried Burt hastily. "S'pose I'm going to stay here?"
"Sure you are!" grinned Critch. "I'd do it only I reckon the mummy won't
have red hair an' it wouldn't work. You've got to do it!"
"But what for?" persisted Burt. "What's the use? S'pose the lion comes?"
"If he comes you can throw some blazing oil at him just like Cap'n Mac.
That ought to scare him away. Soon's I get to the village I'll see if I
can't locate some o' that poison. The whole tribe'll be scared stiff
when they see the mummy, 'specially if he's kind of spoiled. You hide
out here till morning and then I'll come back with what weapons I can
get. I'll warn the dwarfs away from here first. That's the only way I
see of gettin' what we need. We can't make Mbopo understand very well."
"It wouldn't be a bad idea if you was going to stay here 'stead of me,"
assented Burt dubiously. "S'pose we kill the lion. How'll you account
for me coming back to life?"
"I'll tote the mummy in here and bury him," returned Critch promptly.
"Then maybe to-morrow night I'll have them bring the ankh to the
doorway. I'll go through a Latin verb and yell and you walk out. Why,
man, I'll be no end sacred! We'll own the whole blamed tribe!"
"It listens good enough," admitted Burt. "Tell you what you do. Send the
stuff on with Mbopo and build a fire right in front of the door before
you go. Leave me some sticks--these bones ought to burn too. Mebbe that
fire'll keep the lion out."
"Hurray!" exclaimed Critch enthusiastically. "Now let's get the old boy
unwrapped. It's been pretty damp for him here, I guess. He ought to be
pretty well preserved in spite of that. He isn't torn up except at the
neck. Off she comes!"
Critch set to work at the head and Burt at the foot of the case. It did
not take them long to get the gaudily-painted wooden case apart. Then a
heavy aromatic odor filled the hut. As Critch had said, the mummy was
unharmed except at the neck. Here the case had been splintered open but
when the lid was off the boys saw that only a few layers of the
wrappings had been torn away. The whole mummy was wrapped in cloths.
Burt and Critch lifted out the mass of wrappings to the mud floor of the
hut. As they did so something tinkled and fell against the case. Their
eyes fell on the remainder of the scarab necklace of which Montenay had
obtained a part. Evidently it had been placed around the neck after the
mummy was wrapped. Burt hurriedly stuffed it into his pocket.
"Got that anyhow," he remarked. "Hope Mbopo don't show up before we get
through. Here we go!"
With the help of the keen-edged axe the mummy was soon unwrapped and
laid on the floor. Intertwined with the wrappings the boys found six
necklaces, each formed of gold beads of different shapes. The largest
was formed of half amber and half gold beads, and held a large pendant
in the shape of the ankh. This was left on the mummy, while Critch
stuffed the others into his pocket. As he did so he gave a cry.
"Hello!" He picked up a tight roll of parchment, welded into a solid
mass by the wrappings. "Wonder what this is? Well, we can't waste time
on her now. Go slow--that's all right. Now we got to hustle, Burt."
"Lay him here this way--right beside the ankh," replied Burt. "Stick
your axe in his hand. Can't do that either. Liable to bust off. Well,
lay it handy here. I'd better keep it, so don't carry it off."
The boys then hurriedly stuffed the pile of wrappings back into the case
and put the lid on as before. It had formerly been cemented with some
kind of strong pitch and now the gaping seam at the side showed plainly.
"That won't do," cried Burt as they inspected it. "How'll we fix that,
Critch?"
"Search me," replied his chum, puzzled. "They'd see that in a minute,
'cause we busted up that cement considerable."
"Cement!" exclaimed Burt. "Looks a whole lot like tar to me, Critch.
Mebbe a little heat would fix her up fine!"
"That's the candy!" returned Critch. Each boy took a brand from the
little fire and ran this along the seam. The black pitch-like stuff
smoked, bubbled, and set them coughing, but to their delight it
coalesced and it only remained to allow the cement to harden.
"Golly, I'm glad that's over!" sighed Burt as he wiped his streaming
face and threw his brand back into the fire. No sound had broken in on
their labor except a throbbing beat of tom-toms from the village,
mingled once more with the shrill, steady chanting of the pigmy
warriors. The boys had grown too accustomed to the night-noises of the
jungle to heed the flickering far-off howls and cries that formed a
faint background to the nearer sounds.
"We'd better carry all the stuff near the door," said Critch. "We'll
leave one light going so's they can see things right."
Between them they dragged the heavy ankh over the floor to the entrance.
Then the mummy was set beside it leaning against the wall, two of the
lamps were blown out and Burt lay down in the far corner. Critch threw
some dead leaves over him and then sat down to wait with his head on his
knees.
"Say, Critch!" grunted Burt suddenly. "Wonder what Uncle George'd say if
he could see us? Do you s'pose he an' Cap'n Mac are on their way home by
now?"
"Don't you believe it!" replied Critch grimly. "I'll bet a million
dollars that they'll be hunting for us pretty quick in the jungle. Your
uncle ain't goin' to shoot for home and leave us back here. He ain't
that kind and neither's Cap'n Mac."
"Guess you're right," agreed Burt hopefully. "I wouldn't be s'prised if
Uncle George ducked in here all by his lonely. He wouldn't have much
chance against them poison affairs of the black dwarfs, though," he
added more gloomily.
"You got to remember that we've only been gone a few days," replied
Critch. "Cap'n Mac had to get well, too. Tell you what, pard, we're
powerful lucky not to be in his fix just about now."
"Well, mebbe you're enjoying yourself a whole lot," retorted Burt, "but
I ain't. Golly, don't this ol' place smell like all get out? You ought
to be over here, Critch, with the bones and things. I wish Mbopo--"
"S-sh!" came a mutter from the other. "I hear something down the line.
Here's my box of matches." An object fell near Burt's hand. "I'll be
back just as soon--lay low!"
Burt, lying in the shadow cast by his chum, heard a light shuffle of
feet and then Mbopo appeared in the doorway, holding another little
figure by the hand, while a third followed reluctantly.
"Him bruder," grinned the dwarf happily. "Him scared. T'ink Pongo kill.
Kill lion--where bruder gone?"
The three dwarfs were standing within the entrance now, gazing fearfully
at Critch and the dim surroundings.
"My brother very bad," answered the boy slowly, pointing to the ankh.
"Him take axe, hit Pongo. Pongo hit him with fire, burn him up," and he
moved the single lamp a trifle so that the light fell full on the mummy
beside him.
Had the situation not been so serious Burt could have laughed at the
sickly gray look which overspread the features of the pigmies as they
fell to their knees. With one frightened groan all three buried their
faces in the dirt. Critch knew it was time to act and rose to his feet.
"Get up!" commanded the boy sternly. He took the dwarfs by the hand and
raised them up one by one. "Pongo him mad. Him say no kill lion yet. Him
say take to village." Critch pointed at the village and the pigmies
comprehended. Then he patted them on the back and smiled and little by
little their fears were overcome. Taking a spear from Mbopo he passed it
through the loop of the golden ankh and signed to the two brothers to
raise it.
They obeyed after some hesitation, with frightened looks at the grinning
mummy. Then Critch picked up the mummy and laid him in the trembling
arms of Mbopo and made shift to get the case on his own shoulder. He led
the way out and a moment later Burt was alone.
He could hear the four stop outside while Critch lit a small fire in
front of the entrance. Then the latter re-entered with an armful of
large sticks and flung them down.
"So long," he muttered. "I'll put some logs up against the door inside
the fire. If the lion gets through the smoke he'll stop at the logs
mebbe. See you later."
"So long," murmured Burt and the other vanished. He heard a few sharp
orders transmitted through Mbopo and then after five minutes three or
four small logs were piled against the door. This was a decided
improvement on his own plan of the fire, for now the opening was nearly
blocked.
Burt waited for a few moments and then rolled over and sat up. The
single wick was still burning dimly and he picked up the box of matches
and stowed them away beside his own. As he listened he could hear the
deep throb-throb of the larger drums from the village mingled with the
sharper and more staccato notes of the tom-toms. Over all rose the
shrill monotonous chant.
Suddenly there came a change. The tom-toms ceased abruptly with one or
two scattered notes. The chanting died away an instant later. Then arose
a low, mournful wail of absolute fear that made the listening boy
shudder. This was followed by silence for a brief space and then came
two bark-like notes such as had answered the young chief earlier in the
evening. Critch had triumphed! Otherwise, Burt well knew that he would
have heard only one shrill yell.
Burt still had his watch in its safety-pocket and had kept it wound
pretty regularly. He now drew it out and held it close to the blue
flame. Two o'clock; the boy stared at the hands incredulously. Had all
these events only occupied five or six hours? He had been sure it was
nearly morning. As it was, there were still three hours until daylight.
Three hours before Critch would come!
For one moment Burt felt an insane impulse to rush from the hut and seek
the village. The horror of the place rushed over him. The combined odors
of the mummy, the burning oil, and the filth on the floor sickened him
and he made a step forward. Then he paused abruptly. Critch was counting
on him to fulfill his share of the task. His chum was doing his own
share--it was no easy matter to face that village of pigmies. Was he to
endanger everything at the last moment?
With a little sigh Burt drew back. He settled down among the dry leaves,
leaving the light for companionship's sake. As he leaned back his eyes
closed and a feeling of delicious rest stole on him, for he was very
weary and tired. In another minute he was sound asleep.
He was awakened by something scratching and sniffing at the thatch
behind him.