CHAPTER XXI

A Dash and All Together

Barney brought back with him both father and son. Mboyo was a

finely-built negro, but Samba, who had been growing rapidly, promised

to outstrip his father in height, as he already excelled him in

nimbleness of wit. He had a noble brow, and eyes of extraordinary

lustre; and Jack could not help contrasting him with the mean-looking

white man, who, in the providence of King Leopold, was entrusted with

the lives of such people as these.

Jack explained his purpose, and the difficulty which seemed to stand in

the way. A glance was exchanged between Samba and his father; then the

boy said that they would deal with the outpost.

"How will you do it?"

"We will creep upon them."

"But it is daylight."

"True. We may fail; but we will do our best."

"Very well. Now we must get our men together, Barney. It will be

useless for Samba and Mboyo to start until we are ready. In fact, we

will postpone the whole thing for an hour or two. In the hottest part

of the day the men in the camp will very likely be dozing or fast

asleep; even if they're awake, they'll probably not have all their wits

about them."

He selected twenty riflemen, including Imbono, Makoko, and Lepoko, and

fifty spearmen, the pick of the force, and ordered them to assemble at

a given signal at a small exit he had recently had cut in the base of

the wall on the gully side. The hole had been made at a spot where the

gully was very rugged and covered with creepers, so that any one

leaving the fort by this small aperture could scarcely be detected

except by an observer placed immediately opposite. The portion of the

wall which had been removed could be replaced, and it would be

impossible, save on very close scrutiny, to discover the existence of

the exit.

A dozen of the men, besides carrying their weapons, were to sling round

their shoulders some large fireballs which had been made under Barney's

superintendence from the resin in the confiscated barrels.

"Begorra, sorr, 'tis meself that has an idea!" cried Barney in the

midst of these preparations. "Couldn't we do something to hould the

attention uv those villains at the outpost while Samba and the chief

are doing their job?"

"A good idea, indeed. What do you suggest?"

"'Deed now, I wish we had Mike Henchie and Denis O'Sullivan and a few

more uv the bhoys. We'd treat the niggers to the finest dancing wid

the shillelagh that iver was seen this side uv Limerick."

"I wish we had! You speak of shillelaghs. Won't Indian clubs do? I

have it! We'll get some of the children to go through their exercises.

Go and collect them, Samba--Lofinda and Ilafa and Lokilo and Isungila,

they're the best, and about a dozen more. But hang it! I forgot.

They won't be seen over the wall."

"Sure there's the platform by the blockhouse, sorr. 'Tis uncommon

small for a stage play, but 'tis meself could make it wider in a brace

uv shakes."

"Then do so, like a good fellow. It's a capital idea of yours, Barney."

The platform was quickly enlarged. Then, just after midday, when the

sun was blazing fiercely, and in the ordinary course of things

everybody would be at rest in the huts, Barney marshalled some twenty

children, boys and girls, on the platform, and Jack accompanied Mboyo

and Samba to the little exit.

"You must give me a signal if you succeed with the outpost," said Jack,

as they prepared to slip through. "It must not be a sound. You had

better show yourself for a moment above the rocks, Samba."

The instant they had reached the gully, Imbono's drummer began to beat

his drum, not with the powerful strokes that would have sent a

thunderous boom echoing for miles around, but with gentle taps that

would scarcely be heard beyond the two outposts. At the same time two

or three children blew softly through their little trumpets of banana

leaves. In a moment two woolly heads could be seen cautiously peeping

over the rocks for which Mboyo and Samba were making. Then the

performance began. Instructed by Barney, the children on the platform

swung their clubs about, wondering why they were forbidden to sing the

song about Lokolobolo which usually accompanied their exercise. They

knew nothing of the intention of their instructor, nor why he had

chosen this hot hour instead of the cool of the evening; but they loved

him, and delighted in the rhythmic motion, and they plied their clubs

gracefully, all unconscious of the four curious eyes watching them from

the rocks a few hundred yards away.

Jack saw nothing of their pretty movements. He was at the wall. The

two men of the outpost gazed at the children. Jack gazed at them.

Below him squatted his warriors, subdued to unnatural quietness by the

thought of what was before them. Impatiently they waited for the word.

They did not know exactly what they were to do; Lokolobolo had simply

said they were to follow him. But they knew Lokolobolo; had he not

time and again brought Elobela's schemes to nought? Lokolobolo had

said they were to follow him; and they were confident that where he led

was the one place in the world for them.

Twenty minutes passed. The performance on the platform still went on.

Then Jack suddenly saw the two black heads above the rocks disappear.

Next moment Samba's head showed itself where they had been.

"Aiyoko!"[1] said Jack to his men.

Quickly, one by one, they slipped through the narrow hole, and formed

up under cover of the thick-growing creepers in the gully. Jack went

last, saw that the opening was closed behind him, and turned to address

his men.

"We are going to Elobela's camp," he said. "We shall go down the gully

until we come opposite to it, then I shall lead you; you will come

behind me silently, keeping your ranks. I hope the men in the camp may

be asleep. You will not fire until I give the word. When we have

driven them out of the camp, those of you who have fireballs will set

fire to their huts. Then seize on all the guns and ammunition you can

find, and return as quickly as possible to the fort."

The men's eyes gleamed with excitement. Stealthily as panthers they

crept down the dry gully after their leader. They did not know that

behind them, at the wall, Barney, having abruptly dismissed the

children, was watching with a very wistful look. The good fellow

wished that he were with them.

Down they went, as rapidly as the rough ground permitted, scarcely

making a sound. At length Jack halted. He turned and gave one quick

glance over the eager faces; there was no falterer among his band.

Then he scrambled over the brink of the gully. Lepoko was first after

him, Makoko was second; the rest of the men stood upon no order of

going, but made each for the easiest point of ascent. And there Mboyo

and Samba joined them. Standing on gently sloping ground Jack looked

eagerly ahead. Had his movement been detected? There, two hundred

yards away, was the camp within its light stockade. Not a man was to

be seen. The midday sun beat fiercely down; doubtless the garrison

were enjoying a siesta. No sentry was posted, or, if posted, he had

forgotten his duty. The gate of Ilombekabasi on the northern face was

far away; what simple negro would suppose that the enemy was

approaching silently from the nearer end?

In compact and orderly ranks Jack's men were sprinting noiselessly

after him, holding their weapons so that no clash or click should

disturb the silent camp. They were within a few yards of the stockade

when suddenly there was a cry. All were black men in the camp save

one. At that moment he, in the intolerable heat, was about to leave

his tent and bathe in a clear stream that ran through the enclosure.

He saw the running band; he cried to his men, and, flinging away his

towel, sprang back to his hut to get his rifle. He was too late.

Jack, getting a "shove up" from one of his men, was on and over the

stockade in a few seconds; his men were leaping all around him. And

now their tongues were loosened. Yells and rifle shots aroused the

lethargic garrison, some from sleep within their huts, some from drowsy

lolling in shady quarters by the stockade. For most of them one glance

was enough. Here was Lokolobolo, the Inglesa, and with him a crowd of

men among whom they recognized some they had beaten in Ilola with the

whip. With frantic yells of alarm they ran for dear life across the

compound to the gate on the further side, out into the open, never

pausing until they had gained the forest fringe, with half a mile

between them and the men they feared.

But not all; the white man had seized his rifle and collected a small

band about him. Mboyo, near Jack, gave a cry; among the negroes around

the white man he saw Boloko, his renegade brother. Taking cover where

they could, they began to fire at the invaders, hastily, frantically.

But Jack had his men in hand. Bidding them also take cover, he sent

those who had fireballs to creep round the camp and set light to the

huts. Soon volumes of dense suffocating smoke bellied across the camp,

screening attackers from defenders. Then Jack gave the order to close

in upon the few who resisted. With triumphant yells his men swept

forward through the smoke--a few shots were fired; one or two men fell;

then the white man, with Boloko and the rest of his band at his heels,

made a dash for the gate. Two men dropped ere they could pass through;

but the white man and Boloko and half a dozen others were more

fortunate. Out in the open they ran like hunted deer; and Elobela's

burning camp was left in the hands of Lokolobolo.

Jack lost no time. The stockade and the huts on the windward side were

ablaze; soon the whole place must be in flames. The sound of the

shots, the sight of the smoke, would bring back Elbel and all his

force. Shouting to his men to collect all the arms and ammunition they

could carry and then rush back to the fort, Jack went outside the

stockade beyond the cloud of smoke to keep watch. The flames were

roaring and crackling behind him; but even at this distance, nearly two

miles from the place where Elbel was at work, he fancied he heard the

shouts of the amazed and angry enemy. Then suddenly the deep resonant

note of Imbono's drum struck his ear. Barney must be warning him! He

turned and called to his men to delay no longer. Back to the fort!

Meanwhile Barney had followed the movements of the gallant band. He

heard the shots and yells, and saw the first spiral of smoke; then he

hastened to the northwest blockhouse, calling to all the riflemen left

with him to line the wall overlooking the gully. In a few minutes he

saw the negroes above dashing helter-skelter down the slope. And yes!

there was Elbel at their head, a figure in white, running as though he

were running for a prize. Barney smiled with satisfaction.

"Begorra! They're forgetting me!" he murmured pleasantly, as he saw

that the enemy, in their frantic haste, were making for the shortest

path along the further edge of the gully, within easy range of the

camp. Barney determined to wait until they were well abreast of him,

and then give them a volley. But the impatience of a negro forced his

hand. In the excitement of the moment one of the riflemen, free from

Jack's restraining presence, fired his piece. The shot brought Elbel

to his senses. He suddenly remembered the danger into which he was

running. Turning sharp to the right, he sprinted straight to the cover

of the copse. Some of his men followed him; others ran heedlessly on.

Growling at the man who had spoilt his scheme, Barney gave the order to

fire, and half a dozen of the enemy fell. But Elbel had escaped; and

the rest of his men took warning and diverged from the direct course as

he had done. Barney saw that further efforts would be wasted; so,

ordering his men to cease fire, he returned to the other end of the

fort to see how Jack was faring.

[Illustration: Jack rushes Elbel's camp]

Here they come! Makoko is leading, staggering up the gully under the

weight of half a dozen rifles. Behind him is Lombola, poising a load

of ammunition on his head. There is Lingombela, with a bundle of

cartridge pouches roped to his back. So one after another they file up

the gully. Barney opens the little gate in the wall; willing helpers

within haul the loads through. No man enters until all the rifles and

ammunition have been handed in; then they scramble through, laughing

and jesting; and Jack comes last of all.

"Well done, sorr!" said Barney heartily.

"Well done, Barney!" returned Jack, gripping his hand. "By Jove!

What's that?"

A loud explosion set the air trembling, and a hundred echoes flying

from the rocks around. A dense volume of flame and smoke rose from the

site of Elbel's camp.

"There goes the last of their ammunition!" said Jack with a laugh.

"We've got best part of it here."

"Bedad, sorr, now's the chance for me meself. Give me leave, sorr, and

I'll go at them wid the men and wipe them clean off the face uv the

earth."

"Stop, stop, Barney! We mustn't be impatient. They've no more

ammunition in reserve, but every man who was with Elbel will have a

good many rounds with him. We can't risk a pitched battle against two

hundred rifles."

"Ochone, sorr! Will I niver get a chance at all?"

"Cheer up! Your chance will come, and you've done splendidly as it is.

It was a fine idea of yours to sound that drum when you saw them

running down. And it was your idea to set something going here to

occupy the attention of the outpost. By the by, I haven't had time to

ask Samba yet how they dealt with those fellows."

He called up the boy. His story was very simple. Mboyo and he had

crawled round under cover of the rocks and bushes, and came upon the

unsuspecting sentries from the rear. They had their knives; the men

died without a sound. Jack shuddered. It was not an Englishman's way

of dealing with an enemy; it was the negro's way. But his feeling of

compunction was somewhat diminished when Samba added that one of the

men was Bomolo, the brutal forest guard who had been the terror of

Imbono's people. For how many maimings and murders had this man been

responsible? Surely in this quick death he had met with far less than

his deserts!

Jack had every reason to be satisfied with the success of his sortie.

To have burned the enemy's camp; captured more than half his reserve

ammunition, and destroyed the rest, was no mean feat. And as for the

people of Ilombekabasi, they were frantic with delight. So quietly had

Jack made his preparations that the majority of the people knew nothing

of what was happening until they heard the first shot. Then they

crowded to the wall and watched eagerly. The camp itself was hidden

from them by the contour of the hill, but they saw the smoke rising

above the bushes and hailed it with loud shouts. When they understood

the meaning of the great noise that followed Lokolobolo's return they

were almost beside themselves with joy. And in the cool of the evening

Jack allowed them to hold a great feast, after which Imbono reeled off

a long oration in praise of Lokolobolo, and the village bard composed

and chanted a new song in numerous stanzas, the whole populace roaring

the chorus:--

O kelaki na?

Bomong'ilombe,

Bosak'owa wanga,[2]

Lokolobolo!

For several days after the sortie Jack was left undisturbed. He

guessed how Elbel was occupied, and his conjecture was confirmed by

Samba, who at once resumed his scouting work. Elbel was constructing

another camp a good distance east of his former position. And he was

spending more time and labour on it; the stockade was more than usually

high and thick, and was flanked with bastions after the model of the

blockhouses at Ilombekabasi.

Samba also discovered that on the day after the burning of the camp one

of the white men with twenty paddlers had gone down the river. Jack

had no doubt that he had been despatched to the headquarters of his

Company for more ammunition. Clearly Elbel was rendered only the more

determined by his successive rebuffs.

"And I don't wonder at it," remarked Jack, talking the situation over

with Barney. "We are making hay of the rubber collection in this

district, and Elbel's Company will be pretty mad with him. I

understand why he hasn't got help before this from the State forces.

For one thing he has got to rehabilitate himself with his Company,

who'll certainly cashier him if he doesn't find a way out of the mess

he has got into. For another thing, if he brings the State forces on

the scene, he'll most likely lose all chance of collaring uncle's gold,

and I believe that's at the bottom of it right through. But things

can't last much longer as they are. The State must intervene soon,

whether Elbel likes it or not."

"And what then, sorr?"

"Then it will be all up with us, I'm afraid. But we won't look forward

to that. I only wish I could find some means of sending word to

England of what goes on here, and what we're doing."

"What would be the good uv it, sorr? Sorrow a bit."

"Why do you say that?"

"Why! Because in England they're all too busy making money to attend

to such things--making money, sorr, or fighting tooth and nail about

education, or dreaming about football. Now if Ireland had Home

Rule----"

"No politics, Barney! I don't agree with you. I'm as sure as I'm

alive that if the people at home really knew how abominably the natives

are treated--knew about the floggings and maimings and murders, they'd

make such an outcry that either King Leopold would be forced to change

his policy, or some one would step in and manage things for him. If

only England and America would join hands!"

When Elbel had completed his new camp, he resumed the work far up the

hill which the sortie had interrupted. Jack was still at a loss to

understand what the Belgian's scheme was, and he was prevented from

finding out, by the fact that every night a strong body was left on

guard, as he knew by the many camp fires at the top of the ridge.

One afternoon, however, the secret was explained. One of the men

placed on the look-out at the north-eastern blockhouse reported that he

saw a stream of water rushing down the hill. Jack hastened to the spot

with his field-glass, and was somewhat alarmed to see that the man's

information was correct; water was certainly streaming down over the

rocky ground, making a course that seemingly would bring it right

against the fort wall.

"He's going to flood us out!" thought Jack. "He must have built an

embankment across the new course of the river."

This was a manoeuvre which he had not foreseen, and one which it seemed

impossible to counter. The water, gathering impetus as it flowed down

the hill, would almost infallibly undermine the wall, even if it had

not force enough to wash it away altogether. But as he watched, for

the moment so much taken aback that he could not think of anything to

be done, his consternation was changed to amusement, for about two

hundred yards up the hill the water made a swerve to his right, and

flowed with increasing rapidity in that direction. The slope was such

that, instead of coming straight down as Elbel had evidently expected,

the stream, finding the easiest course, took at this point a trend to

the south-east. After all it would only wash the blockhouse on which

Jack stood.

Jack instantly saw what he ought to do. Running down to the base of

the stockade, he summoned a large body of workers, and set some of them

to dismantle the blockhouse, the remainder to pull down the wall and

build it up again several feet behind its former position, and in such

a way that instead of forming the angle of a square it lay across,

making a line parallel with the course of the stream.

They had hardly got to work before the full body of water was upon

them. But so many men were employed, and they moved so rapidly, that

only one or two logs were carried away by the current, the solidly

built blockhouse serving as a dam and protecting the workers behind.

The main stream fell with a roar over the steep slope on the edge of

which the blockhouse stood--a slope only less precipitous than that of

the cataract, now a thing of the past, at the opposite corner of the

fort.

Only a few minutes later a tremendous outcry was heard from the

direction of Elbel's new camp. For a moment it startled Jack. Had the

enemy taken advantage of the sudden flood to organize an attack in

force? But the thought had hardly crossed his mind when he burst into

laughter, causing his workers to pause and look round in astonishment.

"A magnificent idea!" he said to Barney. "D'you see what has happened?

The silly fellow is flooding his own camp!"

"Bedad, sorr, that's what comes uv being too clever by half."

"It comes of playing with things he knows nothing about. He's tried an

engineer's job without experience and without surveying instruments.

It's ticklish work interfering with the course of nature, and you never

know what will happen if you set water on the run. Look at them,

Barney! 'Pon my soul, it's the funniest thing I've ever seen. There's

Elbel himself, do you see? scampering down the hill like a madman."

"Like a mad gorilla, sorr."

"And all his men after him! By Jove! can't they yell! He'll have to

shift his quarters again, Barney."

"And sure I hope all his food is soaked and all his clothes in the

wash-tub. A bath will do those greasy niggers no harm."

"We'll build up our blockhouse a few yards to the left, and be none the

worse. Let's go and lend a hand."

[1] Now.

[2] Who did it?

The master of the house,

A most clever person.

Samba: A Story of the Rubber Slaves of the Congo · 第 21 / 33 章