They passed anxious days awaiting the return of the fever, but the
second attack did not appear for a week, and though it was not so
violent as the previous one, Nell felt much weaker after it. She had
become so thin and had lost so much weight that she did not look like a
girl, but rather like the ghost of a girl. The little flame of her life
flickered so feebly that it seemed as if a breath would blow it out.
Stasch realized that death would not have to wait for a third attack to
carry her off, and he expected her death from day to day, even from hour
to hour.
He, too, had become quite thin and dark, for these misfortunes were more
than his bodily and mental strength could stand. Each day as he looked
into Nell’s face he often said to himself, “My reward for having
cherished her as the apple of my eye will be the privilege of burying
her in the jungle!” Why it should have come to this he could not
imagine. At times he reproached himself for not having taken sufficient
care of her, and for not having treated her as kindly as he should, and
then he felt such a pain in his heart that he could have bitten his
fingers for grief. This misfortune was overwhelming.
Nell now slept almost continually, which perhaps saved her life. But
Stasch awakened her several times during the day to give her some
strengthening food. Whenever it was not raining she would beg him to
carry her out into the open air, for she was unable to stand. It often
happened that she went to sleep even as he carried her in his arms. She
knew that she was very ill, and that she might die at any time. At
first, when she was a little better and felt inclined, she would talk
about it to Stasch, all the time crying, for she was afraid of death.
“I shall never return to papa,” she once said. “But you must tell him
that the thought of it made me very sorry, and ask him to come here to
me.”
“You will return,” answered Stasch.
But he was unable to say any more, for he wanted to cry.
And Nell continued in a scarcely audible and sleepy voice:
“And papa will come here, and you will come back here again, too, won’t
you?” At this thought a smile lit up her tiny, wan face, and then she
whispered still more softly:
“But I am so sorry——”
At the same time she leaned her little head on his shoulder and began to
cry, but he, conquering his own emotion, pressed her to his heart, and
answered quickly:
“Nell, without you I shall not return, and—and in fact I don’t even
know what I should do without you.”
Both became silent, and Nell fell asleep again. Stasch carried her back
to the tree, but hardly had he stepped out of the dwelling than Kali
came running down from the highest point of the neck of land,
gesticulating with his hands, and crying out in an excited and terrified
voice:
“Great Man, Great Man!”
“What do you want?” asked Stasch.
And the negro extended his hand, pointing to the south, and cried,
“Smoke!”
Shading his eyes with the hollow of his hand, Stasch gazed attentively
in the direction indicated, the red light of the setting sun enabling
him to see a column of smoke ascending in the midst of the jungle
between the peaks of two rather high hills.
Kali trembled from head to foot, for he still had a vivid recollection
of their capture by the Dervishes, and he felt sure that the smoke came
from their camp.
At last Stasch also thought that it must come from Smain’s camp, and so
for a moment he was as much frightened as Kali. This was the climax—to
have, in addition to Nell’s deadly illness, the Dervishes come upon
them, to be taken prisoners again, and carried back to Fashoda or
Khartum in the hands of the Mahdi, or under Abdullah’s whip! If they
should be captured Nell would doubtless die the very first day, and he
would be a slave for life. For, even if he were to escape, what was
life, what was freedom without Nell? How could he look into the eyes of
his father or Mr. Rawlison if the Dervishes were to throw Nell’s body to
the hyenas and he could not tell where her grave was?
Such thoughts shot through his head like lightning. Suddenly he felt an
uncontrollable desire to look at Nell, and he went toward the tree. On
the way he ordered Kali to put out the fire, and forbade him building it
during the night; then he entered the tree.
Nell was not asleep. She felt better, as she immediately told Stasch.
Saba lay at her side and warmed her with his enormous body; she softly
stroked his head and smiled when he tried to catch the little grains of
mold that were flying about in the streak of light which the last rays
of the setting sun threw into the hollow of the tree. She was evidently
in a more cheerful mood than usual, for a little later she turned to
Stasch quite pleased and said:
“Perhaps I may not die after all.”
“You certainly will not die,” answered Stasch, “for as you feel stronger
after the second attack, you will never have a third.”
And she began blinking as if trying to recollect something and then
said:
“If I only had another little bitter powder, like the one that did me so
much good the night after the lion visited us; you remember, don’t you?
Then I should not even think of dying—not even so much——”
And with one of her little fingers she indicated how little she would be
prepared for death in such a case.
“Ah!” cried Stasch excitedly, “what would I not give for a grain of
quinine! I don’t know what!”
And he thought to himself that if he had enough quinine he would not
hesitate to give Nell two little powders at once, then wrap her up in
the shawl, place her on his horse, and go off immediately in the
opposite direction from the camp of the Dervishes.
Meanwhile the sun had gone down suddenly and the jungle was in darkness.
The girl talked for nearly half an hour, and then went to sleep, and
Stasch continued to think about the Dervishes and the quinine. Although
tortured by sorrow and fright, his extraordinarily clever brain began to
build more and more daring plans. In the first place, he thought whether
or not this smoke seen in the south was bound to come from Smain’s camp.
It certainly might come from the Dervishes’ camp, but also from an
encampment of Arabians, who penetrate the interior of the continent in
search of ivory and slaves. These Arabs were in no wise connected with
the Dervishes, who ruined their trade. It might also be a camp of
Abyssinians, or some negro village in the mountains, into which the
hunters after human beings had not yet penetrated. Would it not be more
sensible to find out what it really was?
The Arabians of Zanzibar, from the districts of Bogamajo, Witu, and
Mombasa, and the seashore, continually came in contact with the whites,
and who could tell if the offer of a large reward would not induce them
to conduct Stasch and Nell to one of the nearest seaports. Stasch knew
quite well that he could promise them such a reward, and that they would
believe his word. But another thought caused him great uneasiness, for
he noticed that the Dervishes, especially those from Nubia, were almost
as susceptible to fever in Khartum as the whites, and that they cured
themselves with quinine, stealing it from the Europeans, or if the
renegade Greeks or Copts had any secreted, they bought it at a great
price. And so it was probable that the Arabians from the borders of the
ocean would certainly have some of it.
“I will go there,” said Stasch to himself; “for Nell’s sake, I will go
there!”
On thinking the matter over more carefully, he came to the conclusion
that even if they should prove to be Smain’s party, he would have to go
there. It occurred to him that, owing to the complete rupture between
Egypt and Sudan, Smain might not have heard that they had been carried
away from Fayoum. Fatima did not like Smain, and so the kidnapping must
have been a plan of her own, which had been executed with the aid of
Chamis (the son of Chadigi), and also of Idris, Gebhr, and the Bedouins.
Now, Smain was not at all interested in any of these people, for the
simple reason that Chamis was the only one of them that he knew, and he
had never seen or heard of the others. He was only interested in his own
children and Fatima. Perhaps he longed as much for them as they did for
him, and would be glad to be able to return to them, especially if he
were tired of being in the service of the Mahdi. He surely had not won a
great prize while with them, for instead of being placed in command of a
large army, or made ruler over a wide extent of territory, he was
obliged to go, heaven knows how far back of Fashoda, to capture slaves!
“I shall say to him,” thought Stasch, “ ‘If you will lead us to some
harbor on the Indian Ocean and return with us to Egypt, the government
will forgive you everything, and you will be able to rejoin your
children and Fatima, besides which Mr. Rawlison will make you a rich
man—if not, you will never see your children or Fatima again.’ ”
He was certain that Smain would think well of it and that he would
scarcely refuse such an offer.
Of course this was only a surmise. In fact, while an investigation might
prove their destruction, it might also prove their deliverance, and the
only means of help in this African wilderness. Stasch felt surprised at
himself for being terror-stricken at first at the thought of meeting
Smain, but as it was necessary to procure assistance for Nell as soon as
possible, he decided to go there that very night.
This was easier said than done. It is one thing to sit at evening before
a fire in the jungle, behind a hedge of thorns, and another to penetrate
the dense darkness and wade through the high grass, in which lions,
panthers, and leopards, not to mention hyenas and jackals, prowl at this
time of night. But the boy remembered what the young negro said the time
when he went off one night in search of Saba and brought him back, “Kali
is afraid, but he goes!” and he repeated to himself, “I may be afraid,
but I will go.”
As the night was very dark, he waited until the moon rose, and when its
light shone out over the jungle he called Kali and said:
“Kali, put Saba inside the tree, and block up the opening with thorns;
you and Mea must guard the little lady as the apple of your eye while I
go to see what kind of people are over there in that camp.”
“Great Man take Kali with him and also the rifle which kills wild
beasts. Kali not stay behind!”
“You will remain,” said Stasch with decision. “I forbid you to follow
me.”
He now paused a while, and then continued in a rather hoarse voice:
“Kali, you are faithful and smart, and I hope that you will do what I
tell you. Should I not return, and should the little lady die, you must
leave her in the tree, but round it you must erect a high hedge, and
carve a mark like this in the bark——”
And picking up two bamboo sticks, he placed them together like a cross,
and continued:
“And should I not return, and should Bibi not die, then you must serve
her faithfully and respectfully, and you must lead her to your people,
and tell the Wa-hima warriors to take her due east until the great ocean
is reached. There you will find white people, who will give you weapons,
gunpowder, glass beads, wire, and as much canvas as you can possibly
carry. Do you understand?”
But the young negro knelt before him, clasped him round the knees, and
sorrowfully pleaded with him, repeating:
“Oh, Bwana Kubwa! Return, return, return!”
Stasch was touched by the attachment of the black boy, and leaning down,
he placed his hand on his head and said:
“Kali, go to the tree—and—God bless you!”
As he stood there alone, he thought about taking the donkey with him. It
would certainly be safe to do so, for the lions in Africa (just as the
tigers in India), on meeting a man riding, always attack the animal and
not the man. But the question then presented itself that if the donkey
were killed, who would carry Nell’s tent, and on what would she ride?
When he thought of these contingencies he completely gave up the idea of
taking the animal along, and began making his way through the jungle on
foot.
The moon was already fairly high in the heavens, and it was now much
lighter. But the boy’s troubles began at once, for he disappeared in the
grass, which had grown so high that horse and rider could easily have
hidden in it. Even in the daytime it was not possible to see a foot
ahead, so one can imagine what it was by night, when the moonlight only
shone over the surface, and lower down everything was bathed in utter
darkness. Under such conditions it was easy to lose one’s way and travel
in a circle instead of advancing. But Stasch took courage when he
thought, in the first place, that the camp to which he was traveling
could be at the most only three or four English miles away from the neck
of land, and secondly, that the smoke had appeared between the peaks of
two high hills; so by keeping the two hills in view he could not get
lost.
But the grasses, mimosas, and acacias concealed everything. Fortunately,
groups of ant-hills sometimes more than ten feet high, appeared here and
there. Stasch carefully laid aside his gun when he came to each cluster
of hills, and then he climbed to the top, and on seeing the hilltops
outlined against the background of the dark sky, he climbed down again
and continued his journey.
When he thought of what would happen if the sky should become overcast
and the moon no longer shine, he was very much frightened. But that was
not the only danger. In the dead silence of the night in the jungle
every noise, every step, and almost every sound made by the insects as
they creep through the grass can be heard. The sensation that comes over
one is gruesome; and Stasch was terrified. He had to take precautions
against all sorts of catastrophes. He was obliged to listen attentively,
to keep watch on all sides, and to hold his head ready to turn round
like a screw, and his rifle ready to shoot. Every minute it seemed as
though some animal was lying in ambush, or was creeping up near him.
From time to time he heard the grasses trembling and the tramping of
animals running away. Then he thought that he must have frightened off
the antelopes, for although one of their number always keeps watch, they
sleep very lightly, knowing full well that amateur huntsmen do not go
out hunting in the dark at this time of night. But now he sees something
dark, large, under an umbrella-acacia. It may be a rock, a rhinoceros,
or a buffalo, which on scenting a human being will awaken and
immediately advance to attack him, and he also sees two glittering
things behind a black stone. “Ha!” Rifle to shoulder! “That’s a lion!
No!” False alarm! They are fireflies, for a tiny light rises in the air
and glides over the grass, like a shooting star slanting downward.
Stasch not only climbed the ant-hills to make sure that he was going in
the right direction, but also to dry the cold perspiration which stood
out on his forehead, to get his breath, and to wait until his heart
should cease to palpitate. Besides, he was already so tired that he
could hardly stand.
But he walked on, feeling that nothing must be left undone to save Nell.
After two hours he came to a very stony place, where the grass was
lower, and so it was much lighter.
The two peaks looked as far off as ever, but a little nearer there were
some rocks running irregularly in a transverse direction, above which
towered a taller rock, and they apparently encased a kind of valley or
gorge, resembling the one in which King had been imprisoned. Now on the
side of the cliff—about three or four hundred feet distant—he
perceived the bright reflection of a flame.
He stood still. His heart was again beating so wildly that in the
silence of the night he could hear it thump. Whom is he likely to
encounter down there? Arabians from the eastern coast? Smain’s
Dervishes? Or savage negroes, who have left their native villages, and
fleeing from the Dervishes, have taken refuge in the most impenetrable
forest of the mountains? Will he there find death, or imprisonment, or
perhaps help for Nell?
It was impossible for him to turn back now, and besides, he had no
inclination to do so; he crept slowly toward the fire, stepping as
lightly as possible, and holding his breath. After he had gone about a
hundred steps, he suddenly heard the neighing of horses in the jungle,
and he stood still. By the light of the moon he counted five. The
Dervishes would have had more, so he supposed that the others were
probably hidden in the tall grass. But he was surprised that no one was
watching them, or that at least a fire had not been left burning in
order to frighten off the wild beasts. He thanked God that things were
as they were, for he could now advance without attracting attention.
The light of the fire on the cliff became still plainer. In less than a
quarter of an hour Stasch reached a place where the cliff opposite him
was brilliantly lighted, which satisfied him that a fire must be burning
directly below it.
Crawling on all fours, he crept carefully up to the side and looked
down.
The first object that attracted his attention was a large white tent.
Before the tent stood a canvas camp-bed, and on it lay a person wearing
white European clothes. A small negro, apparently about twelve years
old, was throwing dry wood into the fire, which illuminated the side of
the cliff, and a row of negroes were sleeping on either side of the
tent. The next moment Stasch slid down the slope into the bottom of the
gorge.
[Illustration: “On a canvas camp-stead lay a person wearing white
European clothes. . . . A row of negroes were sleeping on either side of
the tent.” ]