The Black Flier
The girl was almost crushed by terror and disappointment. To have
been thus close to safety and then to have all hope snatched away
by a cruel stroke of fate seemed unendurable. The man was disappointed,
too, but more was he angry. He noted the remnants of the uniforms
upon the blacks and immediately he demanded to know where were
their officers.
"They cannot understand you," said the girl and so in the bastard
tongue that is the medium of communication between the Germans and
the blacks of their colony, she repeated the white man's question.
Usanga grinned. "You know where they are, white woman," he replied.
"They are dead, and if this white man does not do as I tell him,
he, too, will be dead."
"What do you want of him?" asked the girl.
"I want him to teach me how to fly like a bird," replied Usanga.
Bertha Kircher looked her astonishment, but repeated the demand to
the lieutenant.
The Englishman meditated for a moment. "He wants to learn to fly,
does he?" he repeated. "Ask him if he will give us our freedom if
I teach him to fly."
The girl put the question to Usanga, who, degraded, cunning, and
entirely unprincipled, was always perfectly willing to promise
anything whether he had any intentions of fulfilling his promises
or not, and so immediately assented to the proposition.
"Let the white man teach me to fly," he said, "and I will take you
back close to the settlements of your people, but in return for
this I shall keep the great bird," and he waved a black hand in
the direction of the aeroplane.
When Bertha Kircher had repeated Usanga's proposition to the
aviator, the latter shrugged his shoulders and with a wry face
finally agreed. "I fancy there is no other way out of it," he said.
"In any event the plane is lost to the British government. If I
refuse the black scoundrel's request, there is no doubt but what
he will make short work of me with the result that the machine will
lie here until it rots. If I accept his offer it will at least be
the means of assuring your safe return to civilization and that"
he added, "is worth more to me than all the planes in the British
Air Service."
The girl cast a quick glance at him. These were the first words he
had addressed to her that might indicate that his sentiments toward
her were more than those of a companion in distress. She regretted
that he had spoken as he had and he, too, regretted it almost
instantly as he saw the shadow cross her face and realized that
he had unwittingly added to the difficulties of her already almost
unbearable situation.
"Forgive me," he said quickly. "Please forget what that remark
implied. I promise you that I will not offend again, if it does
offend you, until after we are both safely out of this mess."
She smiled and thanked him, but the thing had been said and could
never be unsaid, and Bertha Kircher knew even more surely than as
though he had fallen upon his knees and protested undying devotion
that the young English officer loved her.
Usanga was for taking his first lesson in aviation immediately. The
Englishman attempted to dissuade him, but immediately the black
became threatening and abusive, since, like all those who are
ignorant, he was suspicious that the intentions of others were
always ulterior unless they perfectly coincided with his wishes.
"All right, old top," muttered the Englishman, "I will give you
the lesson of your life," and then turning to the girl: "Persuade
him to let you accompany us. I shall be afraid to leave you here
with these devilish scoundrels." But when she put the suggestion
to Usanga the black immediately suspected some plan to thwart
him--possibly to carry him against his will back to the German
masters he had traitorously deserted, and glowering at her savagely,
he obstinately refused to entertain the suggestion.
"The white woman will remain here with my people," he said. "They
will not harm her unless you fail to bring me back safely."
"Tell him," said the Englishman, "that if you are not standing in
plain sight in this meadow when I return, I will not land, but will
carry Usanga back to the British camp and have him hanged."
Usanga promised that the girl would be in evidence upon their
return, and took immediate steps to impress upon his warriors that
under penalty of death they must not harm her. Then, followed
by the other members of his party, he crossed the clearing toward
the plane with the Englishman. Once seated within what he already
considered his new possession, the black's courage began to wane
and when the motor was started and the great propeller commenced
to whir, he screamed to the Englishman to stop the thing and permit
him to alight, but the aviator could neither hear nor understand
the black above the noise of the propeller and exhaust. By this
time the plane was moving along the ground and even then Usanga was
upon the verge of leaping out, and would have done so had he been
able to unfasten the strap from about his waist. Then the plane rose
from the ground and in a moment soared gracefully in a wide circle
until it topped the trees. The black sergeant was in a veritable
collapse of terror. He saw the earth dropping rapidly from beneath
him. He saw the trees and river and at a distance the little clearing
with the thatched huts of Numabo's village. He tried hard not to
think of the results of a sudden fall to the rapidly receding ground
below. He attempted to concentrate his mind upon the twenty-four
wives which this great bird most assuredly would permit him to
command. Higher and higher rose the plane, swinging in a wide circle
above the forest, river, and meadowland and presently, much to his
surprise, Usanga discovered that his terror was rapidly waning, so
that it was not long before there was forced upon him a consciousness
of utter security, and then it was that he began to take notice of
the manner in which the white man guided and manipulated the plane.
After half an hour of skillful maneuvering, the Englishman rose
rapidly to a considerable altitude, and then, suddenly, without
warning, he looped and flew with the plane inverted for a few
seconds.
"I said I'd give this beggar the lesson of his life," he murmured as
he heard, even above the whir of the propeller, the shriek of the
terrified Negro. A moment later Smith-Oldwick had righted the machine
and was dropping rapidly toward the earth. He circled slowly a few
times above the meadow until he had assured himself that Bertha
Kircher was there and apparently unharmed, then he dropped gently
to the ground so that the machine came to a stop a short distance
from where the girl and the warriors awaited them.
It was a trembling and ashen-hued Usanga who tumbled out of the
fuselage, for his nerves were still on edge as a result of the
harrowing experience of the loop, yet with terra firma once more
under foot, he quickly regained his composure. Strutting about
with great show and braggadocio, he strove to impress his followers
with the mere nothingness of so trivial a feat as flying birdlike
thousands of yards above the jungle, though it was long until he
had thoroughly convinced himself by the force of autosuggestion
that he had enjoyed every instant of the flight and was already
far advanced in the art of aviation.
So jealous was the black of his new-found toy that he would not
return to the village of Numabo, but insisted on making camp close
beside the plane, lest in some inconceivable fashion it should be
stolen from him. For two days they camped there, and constantly
during daylight hours Usanga compelled the Englishman to instruct
him in the art of flying.
Smith-Oldwick, in recalling the long months of arduous training he
had undergone himself before he had been considered sufficiently
adept to be considered a finished flier, smiled at the conceit of
the ignorant African who was already demanding that he be permitted
to make a flight alone.
"If it was not for losing the machine," the Englishman explained to
the girl, "I'd let the bounder take it up and break his fool neck
as he would do inside of two minutes."
However, he finally persuaded Usanga to bide his time for a few
more days of instruction, but in the suspicious mind of the Negro
there was a growing conviction that the white man's advice was prompted
by some ulterior motive; that it was in the hope of escaping with
the machine himself by night that he refused to admit that Usanga
was entirely capable of handling it alone and therefore in no further
need of help or instruction, and so in the mind of the black there
formed a determination to outwit the white man. The lure of the
twenty-four seductive wives proved in itself a sufficient incentive
and there, too, was added his desire for the white girl whom he
had long since determined to possess.
It was with these thoughts in mind that Usanga lay down to sleep
in the evening of the second day. Constantly, however, the thought
of Naratu and her temper arose to take the keen edge from his pleasant
imaginings. If he could but rid himself of her! The thought having
taken form persisted, but always it was more than outweighed by the
fact that the black sergeant was actually afraid of his woman, so
much afraid of her in fact that he would not have dared to attempt
to put her out of the way unless he could do so secretly while
she slept. However, as one plan after another was conjured by the
strength of his desires, he at last hit upon one which came to him
almost with the force of a blow and brought him sitting upright
among his sleeping companions.
When morning dawned Usanga could scarce wait for an opportunity to
put his scheme into execution, and the moment that he had eaten,
he called several of his warriors aside and talked with them for
some moments.
The Englishman, who usually kept an eye upon his black captor,
saw now that the latter was explaining something in detail to his
warriors, and from his gestures and his manner it was apparent that
he was persuading them to some new plan as well as giving them
instructions as to what they were to do. Several times, too, he
saw the eyes of the Negroes turned upon him and once they flashed
simultaneously toward the white girl.
Everything about the occurrence, which in itself seemed trivial enough,
aroused in the mind of the Englishman a well-defined apprehension
that something was afoot that boded ill for him and for the girl.
He could not free himself of the idea and so he kept a still closer
watch over the black although, as he was forced to admit to himself,
he was quite powerless to avert any fate that lay in store for
them. Even the spear that he had had when captured had been taken
away from him, so that now he was unarmed and absolutely at the
mercy of the black sergeant and his followers.
Lieutenant Harold Percy Smith-Oldwick did not have long to wait
before discovering something of Usanga's plan, for almost immediately
after the sergeant finished giving his instructions, a number of
warriors approached the Englishman, while three went directly to
the girl.
Without a word of explanation the warriors seized the young officer
and threw him to the ground upon his face. For a moment he struggled
to free himself and succeeded in landing a few heavy blows among
his assailants, but he was too greatly outnumbered to hope to more
than delay them in the accomplishment of their object which he
soon discovered was to bind him securely hand and foot. When they
had finally secured him to their satisfaction, they rolled him
over on his side and then it was he saw Bertha Kircher had been
similarly trussed.
Smith-Oldwick lay in such a position that he could see nearly the
entire expanse of meadow and the aeroplane a short distance away.
Usanga was talking to the girl who was shaking her head in vehement
negatives.
"What is he saying?" called the Englishman.
"He is going to take me away in the plane," the girl called back.
"He is going to take me farther inland to another country where
he says that he will be king and I am to be one of his wives," and
then to the Englishman's surprise she turned a smiling face toward
him, "but there is no danger," she continued, "for we shall both
be dead within a few minutes--just give him time enough to get
the machine under way, and if he can rise a hundred feet from the
ground I shall never need fear him more."
"God!" cried the man. "Is there no way that you can dissuade him?
Promise him anything. Anything that you want. I have money, more
money than that poor fool could imagine there was in the whole
world. With it he can buy anything that money will purchase, fine
clothes and food and women, all the women he wants. Tell him this
and tell him that if he will spare you I give him my word that I
will fetch it all to him."
The girl shook her head. "It is useless," she said. "He would not
understand and if he did understand, he would not trust you. The
blacks are so unprincipled themselves that they can imagine no
such thing as principle or honor in others, and especially do these
blacks distrust an Englishman whom the Germans have taught them to
believe are the most treacherous and degraded of people. No, it is
better thus. I am sorry that you cannot go with us, for if he goes
high enough my death will be much easier than that which probably
awaits you."
Usanga had been continually interrupting their brief conversation
in an attempt to compel the girl to translate it to him, for he
feared that they were concocting some plan to thwart him, and to
quiet and appease him, she told him that the Englishman was merely
bidding her farewell and wishing her good luck. Suddenly she turned
to the black. "Will you do something for me?" she asked. "If I go
willingly with you?"
"What is it you want?" he inquired.
"Tell your men to free the white man after we are gone. He can
never catch us. That is all I ask of you. If you will grant him
his freedom and his life, I will go willingly with you.
"You will go with me anyway," growled Usanga. "It is nothing to
me whether you go willingly or not. I am going to be a great king
and you will do whatever I tell you to do."
He had in mind that he would start properly with this woman. There
should be no repetition of his harrowing experience with Naratu.
This wife and the twenty-four others should be carefully selected
and well trained. Hereafter Usanga would be master in his own house.
Bertha Kircher saw that it was useless to appeal to the brute
and so she held her peace though she was filled with sorrow in
contemplating the fate that awaited the young officer, scarce more
than a boy, who had impulsively revealed his love for her.
At Usanga's order one of the blacks lifted her from the ground and
carried her to the machine, and after Usanga had clambered aboard,
they lifted her up and he reached down and drew her into the fuselage
where he removed the thongs from her wrists and strapped her into
her seat and then took his own directly ahead of her.
The girl turned her eyes toward the Englishman. She was very pale
but her lips smiled bravely.
"Good-bye!" she cried.
"Good-bye, and God bless you!" he called back--his voice the least
bit husky--and then: "The thing I wanted to say--may I say it now,
we are so very near the end?"
Her lips moved but whether they voiced consent or refusal he did
not know, for the words were drowned in the whir of the propeller.
The black had learned his lesson sufficiently well so that the
motor was started without bungling and the machine was soon under
way across the meadowland. A groan escaped the lips of the distracted
Englishman as he watched the woman he loved being carried to almost
certain death. He saw the plane tilt and the machine rise from
the ground. It was a good take-off--as good as Lieutenant Harold
Percy Smith-Oldwick could make himself but he realized that it was
only so by chance. At any instant the machine might plunge to earth
and even if, by some miracle of chance, the black could succeed
in rising above the tree tops and make a successful flight, there
was not one chance in one hundred thousand that he could ever land
again without killing his fair captive and himself.
But what was that? His heart stood still.