Of course he did not. And he might have known well enough that the
negro could not understand _him_. But he deemed it wiser to make a
reply of some kind, however unintelligible, than to stand like a post
and say nothing.
Again the negro spoke, and again Glynn made the same reply; whereupon
the black fellow turned round to his comrades and looked at them, and
they, in reply to the look, burst again into an immoderate fit of
laughter, and cut a variety of capers, the very simplest of which would
have made the fortune of any merry-andrew in the civilised world, had he
been able to execute it. This was all very well, no doubt, and
exceedingly amusing, not to say surprising; but it became quite a
different matter when, after satisfying their curiosity, these dark
gentlemen coolly collected the property of the white men, stowed it away
in the small canoe, and made signs to Glynn and Ailie to enter.
Glynn showed a decided objection to obey, on which two stout fellows
seized him by the shoulders, and pointed sternly to the canoe, as much
as to say, "Hobbi-doddle-hoogum-toly-whack," which, being interpreted
(no doubt) meant, "If you don't go quietly, we'll force you."
Again the young sailor's spirit leaped up. He clenched his fists, his
brow flushed crimson, and, in another instant, whatever might have been
the consequence, the two negroes would certainly have lain recumbent on
the sward, had it not suddenly occurred to Glynn that he might, by
appearing to submit, win the confidence of his captors, and, at the
first night-encampment, quietly make his escape with Ailie in his arms!
Glynn was at that romantic age when young men have a tendency to think
themselves capable of doing almost anything, with or without ordinary
facilities, and in the face of any amount of adverse circumstance. He
therefore stepped willingly and even cheerfully into the canoe, in which
his and his comrades' baggage had been already stowed, and, seating
himself in the stern, took up the steering-paddle. He was ordered to
quit that post, however, in favour of a powerful negro, and made to sit
in the bow and paddle there. Ailie was placed with great care in the
centre of the canoe among a heap of soft leopard-skins; for the savages
evidently regarded her as something worth preserving--a rare and
beautiful specimen, perhaps, of the white monkey!
This done, they leaped into their large canoe, and, attaching the
smaller one to it by means of a rope, paddled out from the bank, and
descended the stream.
"Oh! Glynn," exclaimed Ailie, in a whisper--for she felt that things
were beginning to look serious--"what _are_ we to do?"
"Indeed, my pet, I don't know," replied Glynn, looking round and
encountering the gaze of the negro in the stern, at whom he frowned
darkly, and received a savage grin by way of reply.
"I would like _so_ much to say something to you," continued Ailie, "but
I'm afraid _he_ will know what I say."
"Never fear, Ailie; he's as deaf as a post to our language. Out with
it."
"Could you not," she said, in a half-whisper, "cut the rope, and then
paddle away back while _they_ are paddling down the river?"
Glynn laughed in spite of himself at this proposal.
"And what, my pretty one," he said, "what should we do with the fellow
in the stern? Besides, the rascals in front might take it into their
heads to paddle after us, you know, and what then?"
"I'm sure I don't know," said Ailie, beginning to cry.
"Now, don't cry, my darling," said Glynn, looking over his shoulder with
much concern. "I'll manage to get you out of this scrape somehow--now
see if I don't."
The youth spoke so confidently, that the child felt somehow comforted,
so drying her eyes she lay back among the leopard-skins, where, giving
vent to an occasional sob, she speedily fell fast asleep.
They continued to advance thus in silence for nearly an hour, crossed a
small lake, and again entered the river. After descending this some
time, the attention of the whole party was attracted to a group of
hippopotami, gambolling in the mud-banks and in the river a short
distance ahead. At any other time Glynn would have been interested in
the sight of these uncouth monsters, but he had seen so many within the
last few days that he was becoming comparatively indifferent to them,
and at that moment he was too much filled with anxiety to take any
notice of them. The creatures themselves, however, did not seem to be
so utterly indifferent to the strangers. They continued their gambols
until the canoes were quite near, and then they dived. Now,
hippopotami, as we have before hinted, are clumsy and stupid creatures,
so much so that they occasionally run against and upset boats and
canoes, quite unintentionally. Knowing this, the natives in the large
canoe kept a sharp look-out in order to steer clear of them.
They had almost succeeded in passing the place, when a huge fellow, like
a sugar-punchean, rose close to the small canoe, and grazed it with his
tail. Apparently he considered this an attack made upon him by the
boat, for he wheeled round in a rage, and swam violently towards it.
The negro and Glynn sprang to their feet on the instant, and the former
raised his paddle to deal the creature a blow on the head. Before he
could do so, Glynn leaped lightly over Ailie, who had just awakened,
caught the savage by the ankles, and tossed him overboard. He fell with
a heavy splash just in front of the cavernous jaws of the hippopotamus!
In fact, he had narrowly escaped falling head-first into the creature's
open throat.
The nearness of the animal at the time was probably the means of saving
the negro's life, for it did not observe where he had vanished to, as he
sank under its chin, and was pushed by its forelegs right under its
body. In its effort to lay hold of the negro, the hippopotamus made a
partial dive, and thus passed the small canoe. When it again rose to
the surface the large canoe met its eye. At this it rushed, drove its
hammer-like skull through the light material of which it was made, and
then seizing the broken ends in its strong jaws upset the canoe, and
began to rend it to pieces in its fury.
Before this occurred, the crew had leaped into the water, and were now
swimming madly to the shore. At the same moment Glynn cut the line that
fastened the two canoes together, and seizing his paddle, urged his
craft up the river as fast as possible. But his single arm could not
drive it with much speed against the stream, and before he had advanced
a dozen yards, one of the natives overtook him and several more followed
close behind. Glynn allowed the first one to come near, and then gave
him a tremendous blow on the head with the edge of the paddle.
The young sailor was not in a gentle frame of mind at that time, by any
means. The blow was given with a will, and would probably have
fractured the skull of a white man; but that of a negro is proverbially
thick. The fellow was only stunned, and fell back among his comrades,
who judiciously considering that such treatment was not agreeable and
ought not to be courted, put about, and made for the shore.
Glynn now kept his canoe well over to the left side of the stream while
the savages ran along the right bank, yelling ferociously and
occasionally attempting to swim towards him, but without success. He
was somewhat relieved, and sent them a shout of defiance, which was
returned, of course with interest. Still he felt that his chance of
escape was poor. He was becoming exhausted by the constant and violent
exertion that was necessary in order to make head against the stream.
The savages knew this, and bided their time.
As he continued to labour slowly up, Glynn came to the mouth of a small
stream which joined the river. He knew not where it might lead to, but
feeling that he could not hold out much longer, he turned into it,
without any very definite idea as to what he would attempt next. The
stream was sluggish. He advanced more easily, and after a few strokes
of the paddle doubled round a point and was hid from the eyes of the
negroes, who immediately set up a yell and plunged into the river,
intending to swim over; but fortunately it was much too rapid in the
middle, and they were compelled to return. We say fortunately, because,
had they succeeded in crossing, they would have found Glynn in the
bushes of the point behind which he had disappeared, in a very exhausted
state, though prepared to fight to the last with all the energy of
despair.
As it was, he had the extreme satisfaction of seeing his enemies, after
regaining the right bank, set off at a quick run down the river. He now
remembered having seen a place about two miles further down that looked
like a ford, and he at once concluded his pursuers had set off to that
point, and would speedily return and easily recapture him in the narrow
little stream into which he had pushed. To cross the large river was
impossible--the canoe would have been swamped in the rapid. But what
was to hinder him from paddling close in along the side, and perhaps
reach the lake while the negroes were looking for him up the small
stream?
He put this plan into execution at once; and Ailie took a paddle in her
small hands and did her utmost to help him. It wasn't much, poor thing;
but to hear the way in which Glynn encouraged her and spoke of her
efforts, one would have supposed she had been as useful as a full-grown
man! After a couple of hours' hard work, they emerged upon the lake,
and here Glynn felt that he was pretty safe, because, in the still
water, no man could swim nearly as fast as he could paddle. Besides, it
was now getting dark, so he pushed out towards a rocky islet on which
there were only a few small bushes, resolved to take a short rest there,
and then continue his flight under cover of the darkness.
While Glynn carried ashore some biscuit, which was the only thing in the
boat they could eat without cooking, Ailie broke off some branches from
the low bushes that covered the little rocky islet, and spread them out
on a flat rock for a couch; this done, she stood on the top of a large
stone and gazed round upon the calm surface of the beautiful lake, in
the dark depths of which the stars twinkled as if there were another sky
down there.
"Now, Ailie," said Glynn, "come along and have supper. It's not a very
tempting one, but we must content ourselves with hard fare and a hard
bed to-night, as I dare not light a fire lest the negroes should observe
it and catch us."
"I'm sorry for that," replied the child; "for a fire is _so_ nice and
cheery; and it helps to keep off the wild beasts, too, doesn't it?"
"Well, it does; but there are no wild beasts on such a small rock as
this, and the sides are luckily too steep for crocodiles to crawl up."
"Shall we sleep here till morning?" asked Ailie, munching her hard
biscuit and drinking her tin pannikinful of cold water with great
relish, for she was very hungry.
"Oh, no!" replied Glynn. "We must be up and away in an hour at
farthest. So, as I see you're about done with your luxurious supper, I
propose that you lie down to rest."
Ailie was only too glad to accede to this proposal. She lay down on the
branches, and after Glynn had covered her with a blanket, he stretched
himself on a leopard-skin beside her, and both of them fell asleep in
five minutes. The mosquitoes were very savage that night, but the
sleepers were too much fatigued to mind their vicious attacks.
Glynn slept two hours, and then he wakened with a start, as most persons
do when they have arranged, before going to sleep, to rise at a certain
hour. He rose softly, carried the provisions back to the canoe, and in
his sleepy condition almost stepped upon the head of a huge crocodile,
which, ignorant of their presence, had landed its head on the islet in
order to have a snooze. Then he roused Ailie, and led her, more than
half asleep, down to the beach, and lifted her into the canoe, after
which he pushed off, and paddled briskly over the still waters of the
star-lit lake. Ailie merely yawned during all these proceedings; said,
"Dear me! is it time to--yeaow! oh, I'm _so_ sleepy;" mumbled something
about papa wondering what had become of Jim Scroggles, and about her
being convinced that--"yeaow!--the ship must have lost itself among the
whales and monkeys;" and then, dropping her head on the leopard-skins
with a deep sigh of comfort, she returned to the land of Nod.
Glynn Proctor worked so well that it was still early in the morning and
quite dark when he arrived at the encampment where they had been made
prisoners. His heart beat audibly as he approached the dark
landing-place, and observed no sign of his comrades. The moment the bow
of the canoe touched the shore, he sprang over the side, and, without
disturbing the little sleeper, drew it gently up the bank, and fastened
the bow-rope to a tree; then he hurried to the spot where they had slept
and found all the fires out except one, of which a few dull embers still
remained; but no comrade was visible.
It is a felicitous arrangement of our organs of sense, that where one
organ fails to convey to our inward man information regarding the
outward world, another often steps in to supply its place, and perform
the needful duty. We have said that Glynn Proctor saw nothing of his
comrades,--although he gazed earnestly all round the camp--for the very
good reason that it was almost pitch-dark; but although his eyes were
useless, his ears were uncommonly acute, and through their
instrumentality he became cognisant of a sound. It might have been
distant thunder, but was too continuous and regular for that. It might
have been the distant rumbling of heavy wagons or artillery over a paved
road; but there were neither wagons nor roads in those African wilds.
It might have been the prolonged choking of an alligator--it might, in
fact, have been _anything_ in a region like that, where _everything_,
almost, was curious, and new, and strange, and wild, and unaccountable;
and the listener was beginning to entertain the most uncomfortable ideas
of what it probably was, when a gasp and a peculiar snort apprised him
that it was a human snore!--at least, if not a human snore, it was that
of some living creature which indulged to a very extravagant degree in
that curious and altogether objectionable practice.
Stepping cautiously forward on tip-toe, Glynn searched among the leaves
all round the fire, following the direction of the sounds, but nothing
was to be found; and he experienced a slight feeling of supernatural
dread creeping over him, when a peculiarly loud metallic snore sounded
clear above his head. Looking up, he beheld by the dull red light of
the almost extinct fire, the form of Phil Briant, half-seated,
half-reclining, on the branch of a tree not ten feet from the ground,
and clasping another branch tightly with both arms.
At that moment, Ailie, who had awakened, ran up, and caught Glynn by the
hand.
"Hallo! Briant!" exclaimed Glynn.
A very loud snore was the reply.
"Briant! Phil Briant, I say; hallo! Phil!" shouted Glynn.
"Arrah! howld yer noise will ye," muttered the still sleeping
man--"sno--o--o--o--re!"
"A fall! a fall!--all hands ahoy! tumble up there, tumble up!" shouted
Glynn, in the nautical tones which he well knew would have their effect
upon his comrade.
He was right. They had more than their usual effect on him. The
instant he heard them, Phil Briant shouted--"Ay, ay, sir!" and, throwing
his legs over the side of what he supposed to be his hammock, he came
down bodily on what he supposed to be the deck with a whack that caused
him to utter an involuntary but tremendous howl.
"Oh! och! oh! murther! oh whirra!" he cried, as he lay half-stunned.
"Oh, it's kilt I am entirely--dead as mutton at last, an' no mistake.
Sure I might have knowd it--och! worse luck! Didn't yer poor owld
mother tell ye, Phil, that ye'd come to a bad end--she did--"
"Are ye badly hurt?" said Glynn, stooping over his friend in real alarm.
At the sound of his voice Briant ceased his wails, rose into a sitting
posture, shaded his eyes with his hand (a most unnecessary proceeding
under the circumstances), and stared at him.
"It's me, Phil; all right, and Ailie. We've escaped, and got safe back
again."
"It's jokin' ye are," said Briant, with the imbecile smile of a man who
only half believes what he actually sees. "I'm draimin', that's it. Go
away, avic, an' don't be botherin' me."
"It's quite true, though, I assure you, my boy. I've managed to give
the niggers the slip; and here's Ailie, too, all safe, and ready to
convince you of the fact."
Phil Briant looked at one and then at the other in unbounded amazement
for a few seconds, after which he gave a short laugh as if of pity for
his own weakness, and his face assumed a mild aspect as he said softly,
"It's all a draim, av coorse it is!" He even turned away his eyes for a
moment in order to give the vision time to dissipate. But on looking
round again, there it was, as palpable as ever. Faith in the fidelity
of his own eyesight returned in a moment, and Phil Briant, forgetting
his bodily pains, sprang to his feet with a roar of joy, seized Ailie in
his arms and kissed her, embraced Glynn Proctor with a squeeze like that
of a loving bear, and then began to dance an Irish jig, quite regardless
of the fact that the greater part of it was performed in the fire, the
embers of which he sent flying in all directions like a display of
fireworks. He cheered, too, now and then like a maniac--"Oh, happy day!
I've found ye, have I? after all me trouble, too! Hooray! an' wan
chair more for luck. Av me sowl only don't lape clane out o' me body,
it's meself'll be thankful! But, sure--I'm forgittin'--"
Briant paused suddenly in the midst of his uproarious dance, and seized
a burning stick, which he attempted to blow into a flame with intense
vehemence of action. Having succeeded, he darted towards an open space
a few yards off, in the centre of which lay a large pile of dry sticks.
To these he applied the lighted brand, and the next instant a glare of
ruddy flame leaped upwards, and sent a shower of sparks high above the
forest trees into the sky. He then returned, panting a good deal, but
much composed, and said--"Now, darlints, come an' help me to gather the
bits o' stick; somebody's bin scatterin' them all over the place, they
have, bad luck to them! an' then ye'll sit down and talk a bit, an' tell
me all about it."
"But what's the fire for?" asked Ailie.
"Ay, ye may say that," added Glynn; "we don't need such a huge bonfire
as that to cook our supper with."
"Och! be aisy, do. It'll do its work; small doubt o' that. The cap'n,
poor man, ye know, is a'most deranged, an' they're every one o' them off
at this good minute scourin' the woods lookin' for ye. O, then, it's
sore hearts we've had this day! An' wan was sent wan way, an' wan
another, an' the cap'n his-self he wint up the river, and, before he
goes, he says to me, says he, `Briant, you'll stop here and watch the
camp, for maybe they'll come wanderin' back to it, av they've bin and
lost theirselves; an' mind ye don't lave it or go to slape. An' if they
do come, or ye hear any news o' them, jist you light up a great fire,
an' I'll be on the look-out, an' we'll all on us come back as fast as we
can.' Now, that's the truth, an' the whole truth, an' nothin' but the
truth, as the judge said to the witness when he swore at him."
This was a comforting piece of information to Glynn and Ailie, so,
without further delay, they assisted their overjoyed comrade to collect
the scattered embers of the fire and boil the kettle. In this work they
were all the more energetic that the pangs of hunger were beginning to
remind them of the frugal and scanty nature of their last meal.
The bonfire did its work effectually. From all parts of the forest to
which they had wandered, the party came, dropping in one by one to
congratulate the lost and found pair. Last of all came Captain Dunning
and Tim Rokens, for the harpooner had vowed he would "stick to the cap'n
through thick and thin." Tim kept his word faithfully. Through thick
tangled brakes and thin mud-swamps did he follow his wretched commander
that night until he could scarcely stand for fatigue, or keep his eyes
open for sleep; and when the captain rushed into the camp at last, and
clasped his sobbing child to his heart, Tim Rokens rushed in along with
him, halted beside him, thrust his hands into his pockets, and looked
on, while his eyes blinked with irresistible drowsiness, and his
mud-bespattered visage beamed with excessive joy.