DUK-DUK
Trentham took turns with Hoole and Grinson to keep watch through the
night, leaving Meek to the recuperative force of sleep. No untoward
incident disturbed the hours of darkness, but there was a good deal of
noise in the village, the men chattering incessantly.
'Reminds me of the meetings of our old Urban District Council,' remarked
Grinson once, when Hoole relieved him. 'Fust one, then another, then
all together--and nothing settled after all.'
'I guess they 're fixing something,' replied Hoole. 'In my country
there 's a good deal of clack when we elect a new president. It's a new
chief here, you know.'
'Which it means a coronation, p'r'aps, or a beano of some sort, sir.
Well, we 'll see, if we live long enough. Good night, sir.'
Hoole had taken the precaution to have the seaplane placed near the hut.
In the morning, as soon as it was light, he made a more thorough
examination of the machine than had been possible before.
'What precisely is wrong with it?' asked Trentham.
'Luckily not much,' said Hoole. 'These Huns are no sports or they 'd
have risked the few miles back to the cove. A couple of flying wires
are broken--that 's nothing--but see here, the water jacket round this
cylinder is cracked; the water (for cooling purposes, of course) will
all run out, and cause the engine to overheat. That's why they came
down, though, as I said, I 'd have risked it; all the same, it wouldn't
be safe to risk a flight of any length, and the thing must be repaired.
The mischief is, we 've got no solder, and you can't mend a crack in
metal without that, or something equivalent.'
'But you said, when you first saw it, that it _could_ be repaired.'
'Well, yes, I did; forgetting for the moment where we are. You haven't
seen anything in the shape of a forge anywhere around, have you?'
'No, but I suppose they must have one, or they couldn't make their
spears. I 'll ask the interpreter.'
But the word _forge_ was unknown to the interpreter, and Trentham's
effort to explain in pantomime, by blowing an imaginary pair of bellows,
proved fruitless.
'Well, I 'll go and look around,' said Hoole. 'And meanwhile, old son,
don't you think you 'd better persuade the chief to send out some
scouts? If the Germans do have a notion to attack us, five minutes'
warning would give us time to get every one inside the wall.'
'I 'll try. He may be more amiable than he was last night.'
Hoole perambulated the village for some time before he discovered what
he sought. At last, however, within a narrow enclosure behind the huts,
he noticed a young man sitting on a frame-like chair, and vigorously
working two long sticks up and down. A low fence prevented Hoole from
seeing the object of these energetic movements, but a little smoke and
an acrid smell like that which comes from a blacksmith's forge drew him
nearer, and looking over the fence, his eyes gleamed at what he saw.
In front of the native stood two long cylinders of bamboo, about three
feet high. From a hole in the base of each ran a thin bamboo pipe; the
two pipes converged and met at a small heap of glowing charcoal, which
burnt more brightly with each thrust of the sticks as the native worked
them alternately up and down in the cylinders. Hoole jumped over the
fence, and eagerly examined this primitive forge. At the lower end of
each of the sticks was fastened a huge bunch of feathers, resembling a
mop; and these, pumped up and down, caused a considerable draught, by
means of which the smith blew his fire to a heat sufficient to soften
iron.
'Eureka!' cried Hoole, exulting.
He dashed back to the chief's enclosure, got his permission to have the
forge brought within the wall, and in half an hour was busily engaged in
the preliminary work of repairing the water jacket.
'It will be done by this evening,' he explained to Trentham. 'To-morrow
I 'll be off to Wilhelmshafen or any other old place where I can find a
white man, and then----'
'There 's enough petrol?'
'Enough for the flight out; I 'll get more when I land. Say, though, we
shall have to take the machine to the sea. She can't run off, has only
floats. That's a pity--waste of time, not to speak of the risk of
coming up against the Germans.'
'But there 's an opportunity of getting the machine carried to the sea
without a special journey. I 've heard some news while you were away.
It appears that some sort of ceremony inaugurating the new chief is to
take place at our old wreck to-night. All these Frenchified men are
going with him in procession, with a certain number of the other
fellows. We must get him to let his men carry the 'plane at the same
time.'
'They go down the chimney?'
'Yes; it's the nearest way.'
'The narrow way that leads to destruction! How on earth are we to get
the machine down there?'
'With ropes, man. We 've tested the quality of their ropes already, and
the women work so uncommonly fast that they 'll have new ropes the right
length in plenty of time. I 'll go and see the chief about it at once.
He 's very much preoccupied, and vastly self-important, but he allowed
me to send out scouts, as you suggested, and I dare say I can talk him
over.'
Flanso was quite willing that the seaplane should form part of his
procession. His vanity appeared to be flattered; he was as much pleased
as a Lord Mayor of London who has secured some novelty for his show. But
when the carriers had been chosen, an unforeseen difficulty arose. The
medicine-man, whose office gave him access to the chief at all times,
strutted into Flanso's house, where the elders of the community were
discussing the details of the approaching ceremony, and vigorously
protested against the seaplane being allowed to leave the village. In a
vehement oration he declared that the strange bird must have some
connection with the totem of the tribe, and that while it remained with
them the village would be safe from hostile attack. Some of the elders
backed him up, and Flanso, torn between his own superstitions and his
sense of loyalty to the white men who had rescued him, sought relief
from his perplexities by sending for Trentham, and putting the case
before him.
Trentham had sufficient diplomacy to conceal his amusement, and also a
certain irritation at the threat to his scheme.
'Tell chief,' he said to the interpreter, 'medicine-man fella he savvy
lot. Big bird belongina totem all right; all same big bird he fly long
way, bring back lot of white fella; they fight bad white fella this
side, eat bad white fella all up.'
At this moment, unluckily, one of the scouts returned with the report
that the big ship no longer lay in the cove, and that all the white
fellas had disappeared. Grinning with triumph, the medicine-man
instantly claimed that this fact proved his case; the loss of the big
bird had evidently rendered the enemy helpless, and there was nothing
further to be feared from them. Trentham, surprised as he was at the
departure of the Raider, and suspecting that the Germans were probably
setting a trap, strained his vocabulary of pidgin to the utmost to
counteract the medicine-man's arguments, and ultimately prevailed on the
chief to abide by the promise he had given. The medicine-man and his
supporters were patently annoyed. They left the hut in undisguised
ill-humour, and Trentham had an uneasy feeling that they would still
give trouble.
The procession was to start soon after sunset, so that it might reach
the wreck in time for the ceremony to take place at the height of the
moon. It was late in the afternoon before Hoole had completed his
repairs, and after making a good meal the four white men were sitting in
their tent, awaiting the moment for starting.
'What's up, Trentham?' asked Hoole. 'You look very sick.'
'I 've been thinking we 're mugs, that's all,' said Trentham. 'With the
chief and all his fighting men away, and us too, what defence has the
village if the Germans take it into their heads to attack?'
'Gee! I 've been so busy that I hadn't given it a thought. But the
Germans are out for slaves; they won't find any able-bodied men here.'
'That's true; but you saw what they did to that village in the forest.
They 're capable of burning the whole place down, and shooting the women
and children, from sheer revenge and spite. Hadn't we better wait till
the chief returns before we start on our own scheme?'
For a few moments Hoole pondered in silence.
'The Raider has gone,' he said at length. 'This means that there can't
be many Germans left behind; for, of course, they haven't all gone. If
the natives didn't see any, it's because they 're still searching in the
woods for the seaplane. Is it likely that the few left will attack?
There is a risk, I admit, and my proposition is that you remain here
with Meek and give an eye to things, while I take Grinson to fix on the
planes and see me off. The sooner I get help the better, and the
opportunity seems too good to be missed. What do you say?'
'Very well. I should have liked to see the ceremony, but--we simply
can't leave the most helpless of the people to the Huns' tender mercies.
What in the world is this?'
At this exclamation the others, whose backs were towards the gate,
turned about. Through the gate was filing an extraordinary procession.
'By cripes!' said Grinson. 'Is it Jack in the Green, or Guy Fawkes
Guy?'
A line of a dozen uncouth figures was slowly approaching. Above legs
bared to the thighs bulged a mass of leaves nine or ten feet in
circumference, crowned by a headdress like a candle extinguisher, from
which rose a pole, fantastically coloured, four or five feet in height,
with tufts of feathers and leaves at the top. Except the legs, no part
of the human form could be seen.
These strange figures came slowly across the enclosure, until they
reached the seaplane, the chief and all his men watching them in dead
silence. Encircling the machine, they stooped until the leaves touched
the ground; then, at a harsh cry from their leader, they leapt into the
air and began to dance; their leafy clothing rustled; the poles wobbled
and swayed; their legs bent and straightened; and as they swung round
and round the seaplane they uttered shrill cries ever increasing in
intensity. The white men looked on in amazement. What was the meaning
of these antics? Flanso and his men seemed to be impressed. Trentham
beckoned to the interpreter.
'What all this?' he asked.
'This duk-duk,' replied the man in an awed whisper.
'Duk-duk! What is duk-duk?'
'Big medicine. Duk-duk dance; that say big bird no go away; white fella
all belongina afraid.'
Hoole whistled.
'That's the stunt, is it? By gosh, Trentham, it must be that old
medicine-man thinking he 'll scare us stiff. He 's gotten a kind of
affection for the machine. Well, Grinson, come along with me.'
He rose slowly, walked towards the seaplane, dodging between two of the
dancers, and got into the seat behind the engine. Grinson had followed
him.
'Just go to the propeller, Grinson,' he said, 'and swing it round five
or six times when I give you the wink.'
The dancers had drawn closer to the machine, yelling more shrilly than
ever. Hoole watched them with a smile as they circled round. Suddenly
he gave the sign; Grinson caught the propeller, and with a heave of his
brawny arm swung it about. Hoole nodded to him to step aside. The
leader of the dance was just approaching, when there was a roar; Hoole
had started the engine, and the propeller whizzed round with
ever-increasing velocity. The dancer stopped short; before he could
collect himself or retreat the air set in motion by the whirring
propeller smote him with hurricane force, stripping the leaves from his
body, and whirling his headdress, pole and all, across the enclosure.
There stood revealed the lean, naked form of the medicine-man. He threw
up his hands as if to defend his face from the blast; then, with a yell
of fury, he sprinted to the gate, followed by the rest of the dancers.
[Illustration: THE LEADER OF THE DANCERS WAS JUST APPROACHING WHEN THERE
WAS A ROAR, AND THE WHIRRING PROPELLER SET UP A HURRICANE WHICH CAUGHT
AT HIS DRESS.]
A great roar of laughter burst from the spectators, hitherto silent, and
from the crowd which had gathered outside.
'I guess the duk-duk won't quack so loud in future!' said Hoole,
rejoining the others.
The medicine-man's attempt to retain the seaplane and demonstrate his
own importance had ignominiously failed. His erstwhile supporters had
no more to say. The carriers were called up; the chief's procession was
formed, and when the red moon rested on the horizon they set forth
solemnly towards the ancestral wreck.