"I am afraid we are in for it now," said Jack, as he sat with Barney, when the camp had become quiet, discussing the situation. "Elbel will know well enough who played the bogie, and he has now another grievance against me. I wonder what he will do."
"I would not disthress meself about it at all, sorr," said Barney. "He had a peep at a Pepper's ghost widout paying for a ticket, and 'tis himself that ought to be plased."
"Don't you ever have a fit of the dumps, Barney? You seem to live always in the top of spirits."
"What would be the good uv doing anything else, sorr? I've too little flesh on me bones now; what would I be if I grizzled?"
"I'm glad enough, I assure you. I don't know what I should have done without you. Uncle little imagined what he was leaving me to. Do you think anything has happened to him? It is three months since he went away, and five weeks since I had any news of him. I am getting anxious."
"'Tis true he is behind, like the cow's tail, sorr. An 'tis meself can explain it. Ye see, sorr, I've noticed wan thing about these niggers. Time is not much to an Irishman, to be sure, but 'tis less than nothing to a nigger. They don't keep count uv the days; an almanac would be clean beyond them; and 'tis my belief Nando has just put the master back a month, sorr, unbeknown."
"That's an original explanation, at any rate. But by Jove! here's Samba again. What does he want now?"
"Him say mudder lib for plenty sick, sah," said Lepoko, called in to interpret. "Mudder plenty tired fust; muss stand all de night in hut; no gib no food; her no can go no more; tumble down in forest. Samba say please massa, let fader and mudder come; please, please, massa, please, massa, him say please massa plenty too much all time."
"We must have them in, I suppose," said Jack, unable to resist the appeal in Samba's eyes and gestures. "I didn't want them here, they only add to our dangers and difficulties. Let him fetch them, Lepoko; he must be careful; if they are captured again they are sure to be shot."
Samba's face shone with delight. He scampered away. An hour passed before he returned. Mboyo was carrying his wife in his arms; she was in the last stage of exhaustion. They were given shelter in Lepoko's hut; and that night, when Samba curled himself up to sleep with Pat, for the first time for many weeks he was a happy boy.
Jack had but just finished his breakfast next morning when a note was brought him from Elbel.
MONSIEUR,—
On m'a fait informer que les deux individus échappés de ce village sont a présent réfugiés dans votre camp. J'ai l'honneur de vous sommer de rendre ces individus immédiatement, en outre le petit garçon dont j'ai déjà demandé la reddition. Au cas que lesdits sujets de PEtat du Congo ne soient pas ramenés dans ce village avant midi cejourd'hui, je serai obligé de faire à leur égard des démarches qui me sembleront bonnes.
Agréez, monsieur, l'assurance de maconsidération distinguée,ELBEL,Agent de la Société cosmopolitedu Commerce du Congo.
"What do you think of this, Barney? He says he's been told that the two persons who escaped from Ilola are now in my camp. He has the honour to request that I will give them up at once. Listen: 'In case the said subjects of the Congo State are not brought back to this village by noon to-day, I shall be compelled to take such steps in regard to them as may seem to me good.' Very precise and formal. My answer shall be a little shorter."
He lost no time in penning his reply. He wrote:
SIR,—
The three people you mention are with me. I shall be glad to learn the offence with which they are charged, and by what authority you take it upon yourself to try them and punish them.
Yours truly,JOHN CHALLONER.
"We shall get no answer to that, Barney."
But he was mistaken. A second note was brought him in which Elbel refused to explain or justify his actions to Monsieur Challoner. He was responsible to his Société and to the administration of the Free State. He repeated his threat that at twelve o'clock, failing compliance with his demand, he would take steps to recover the fugitives, and concluded by saying that Monsieur Challoner must be answerable for the consequences.
"The fat's in the fire now, sorr," said Barney, when Jack had translated this letter to him. "I suppose you'll just say 'Go and be hanged' in answer to that?"
"No. I shan't answer it on paper. The crisis has come at last, Barney. I couldn't attack Elbel yesterday and be responsible for the first blow. But things are changed now. His action in regard to these poor people is sheer persecution; they've sought my protection, and no Englishman that I ever heard of has given up a wretch fleeing from persecution. We'll have to stand firm now, Barney. Elbel shan't get hold of them if I can prevent it."
"I'm wid ye, sorr, heart and soul. Sure an Irishman is not the man to stand by and see poor people ill-treated. What'll we do to get ready for him, sorr?"
"You can go and get some of the men to rig up platforms at several points inside the stockade. What a lucky thing it was we taught 'em how to board and floor the huts! Those planks will come in handy now. And stay: set two or three men to bore loopholes in the stockade—not our riflemen; the men who've lost their right hands can manage that, perhaps, with their left if they try. Meanwhile, parade the riflemen. I'll come out to them in a few minutes."
When the men were paraded, Jack felt very proud of his little company. They were all alert, eager, ready. Jack explained to them through Lepoko what the difficulty was.
"I don't want you to fight against your will," he said. "If any man is unwilling to fight he may leave the camp if he chooses, or remain and do any other work required. But if he elects to fight he must obey orders, do his best, and never give in. You understand that: never give in!"
The men responded with loud cries of approval. Not a man of them fell out of the ranks. The exercise and drill they had undergone had filled them with military ardour; they were proud of their new accomplishments, and evidently eager to test them in earnest. And the white officials were so well hated that the opportunity of setting one at defiance was in itself a sufficient motive. Jack paid them a compliment on their readiness to serve—the negro dearly loves praise—and after inspecting each man's rifle and ammunition, dismissed them to various duties in the camp until the moment for action arrived.
The day's water supply had scarcely been got in, and there were no vessels at hand for storing a large quantity. The stock of food in the camp was sufficient to keep the whole population for three days on full rations, and might be eked out for a week or more if each man's allowance was reduced. It was inevitable that the idea of a siege should cross Jack's mind, and he foresaw that the difficulty about water would prove serious. Meanwhile, he could at least send out a few men to obtain supplies of food from the chief's other villages. He chose for this errand the men least likely to be useful as fighters, and impressed on them the necessity of avoiding Elbel's men. It would not be long before Elbel had the surrounding country closely patrolled, and then no man would be able to approach without taking his life in his hand. What supplies they should succeed in collecting were to be held concealed in the forest until there was an opportunity of conveying them into the camp without danger.
There were now within his stockade, besides himself and Barney, twenty-two men armed with rifles; the chief Mboyo, with his wife and Samba; fifteen men, ten women, and twenty-five children who had sought asylum with him; and the livestock of the natives—a few goats and fowls. Pat was one by himself. There were rifles for twenty men besides the twenty-two, but the fugitives were too much maimed, or too much reduced in strength by their sufferings, to make it seem worth while to arm them. Four or five, however, had recovered very rapidly, and seemed likely to prove useful recruits. They had at any rate enough reason for fighting well; not only on behalf of their chief, but in memory of their own sufferings. Pending an opportunity of teaching them the use of the rifle, Jack armed them with spears and employed them as sentries. A careful watch was kept to guard against surprise, which was little likely to occur in broad daylight across the wide open space between the two settlements.
Jack awaited with no little anxiety the approach of noon, trying to forecast Elbel's course of action. The Belgian had, so far as he had been able to gather, about sixty men armed with Albini rifles, with probably as many hangers-on; but the natives' conceptions of arithmetic are so vague that this information could not be relied on; the actual number might be larger or smaller. It was not likely that the followers of the forest guards could be utilized as fighting men; but the guards themselves were well armed and full of confidence, for they had become accustomed to lording it over the virtually unarmed and helpless populace from whose forced labour the Congo Free State derives its profits. Jack was quite prepared to find that Elbel, knowing that his opponent's men had but recently been armed, and were not, like his own men, to all intents professional soldiers, would think himself strong enough to rush the camp, especially as, since the day of his arrival, the Belgian had appeared to show no further interest in the force at Jack's disposal.
"Perhaps he thinks we've drilled them merely for parade," he remarked with a smile to Barney. "But I think he'll find we can hold our own. I'm not afraid of a direct attack. But if he tries to starve us out it'll be a different matter. I'm bothered about the water."
"Be aisy, sorr. Whin I was a bhoy me mother often did not know at breakfast time where the supper was coming from; but I only went to bed wance widout it, and that was whin I'd eaten it before the time, and was put to bed early as a punishment."
Soon after twelve o'clock the sentries reported that the white man was approaching from the direction of the village. Jack hastened to the platform near the gate, which he had had barricaded, and saw Elbel at the head of about forty men, at his side a negro bearing a white flag. About fifty yards from the stockade he halted, and formally demanded the surrender of the fugitives. In phrases as formal as his own Jack replied that they would not be given up.
While this brief exchange of courtesies was going on, the sentries stationed on similar platforms within the stockade had turned round with natural curiosity to see what was passing, and withdrew their attention from the ground they were supposed to be watching. All at once Jack felt a tug at his arm, and looking round, saw Samba excitedly pointing to the rear of the camp. A score of Elbel's riflemen were scurrying across the open ground. To Jack's surprise they were headed by a white man in military uniform. Was this the Captain Van Vorst, he wondered, who, Elbel had told him, was coming up the river? Had he to contend with a regular officer of the State as well as an official of the Concession? One thing was clear, that while his attention was being held by the parade of the men in front, an attempt was being made to rush the camp from the rear.
Jack gave no sign of his discovery, but quietly ordered Barney to take ten men with rifles and five with spears and deal with the attackers when their heads or hands appeared above the stockade.
"Keep out of sight until they're upon you," he added in a low tone. "Fifteen men on the platform will be equal to more than double their number trying to scramble over."
He had kept his face turned towards Elbel as he spoke, apparently intent upon a serious consideration of what the Belgian was saying.
"I varn you. Dis is not child's play. Vunce more I say gif up de people; den I interfere no more. I am satisfied. But if you refuse, den I repeat: I will haf de people, and you shall see vat it is to defy de officers of de Free State."
Jack was spared the necessity of replying. A series of yells and cries of pain told that the rear attack had begun. Next moment a couple of shots rang out from the trees behind Elbel, and Jack, whose head just appeared over the stockade, felt one bullet whistle close above his topee, while a second embedded itself beside him in one of the saplings of which the stockade was constructed. Taken in conjunction with the attempted surprise, this was as close an approximation to the methods of an assassin as could well be imagined; and Jack, as he dodged down out of harm's way, felt, not for the first time, that he had to deal with a man who was not only astute but quite unscrupulous.
In less than a minute the attack on the stockade had become general. The assailants showed no want of dash. Perhaps they were encouraged by the impunity with which they had hitherto made their assaults on native villages similarly protected. But the conditions were different now. The defenders were armed with weapons as precise and deadly as those of the attackers themselves. Elbel's men came forward at a rush, in a more or less compact body, and Jack was amply satisfied with the result of his training as his men, at a sign from him, poured a volley through the loopholes bored in the stockade, while the enemy were still a dozen yards distant. Several of them dropped; Jack's men were completely screened from any effectual reply.
The moral effect of white leadership became apparent when the forest guards, scarcely realizing their losses in the excitement of their dash towards the stockade, helped one another to swarm up, many effecting a lodgment on the top. It was at this point that in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred the defenders of an African village would have flung away their arms and run. But the discipline of the past two months told. At Jack's command, before the enemy on the stockade had made their footing sufficiently sure to enable them to use their weapons, the men within, clubbing their rifles, sprang at them and hurled them to the ground.
Meanwhile Barney, who thanks to Samba's watchfulness had been enabled to forestall the surprise in the rear, had beaten off the attack and sent the enemy scurrying for cover. Leaving only three or four men under Lepoko to watch the position there, Jack was able to bring almost the whole of his force to bear on repelling the main attack. Elbel had greatly reduced his chances of success by detaching a third of his body; and he entirely lost their co-operation, for when they were repulsed by Barney they made no attempt to rally, but simply disappeared from the fight.
Elbel and his men were crouching at the foot of the stockade in temporary security, for in that position the defenders could not bring their rifles to bear upon them. Jack heard him give his men an order; in a few seconds a crowd of black heads again appeared above the stockade, but now some thirty yards from the point where the first assault had been made. With Barney at his right hand Jack led his men to the spot. From his platform he might have shot the attackers down with comparative ease; but he was determined from the first to do his best to avoid bloodshed, never forgetting his uncle's injunction to use rifles only in the last resort. The enemy themselves had no chance of firing, for they no sooner showed their heads above the palisade than they were beset by the defenders. There was a brisk five minutes in which Jack and Barney found plenty to do leading their men wherever the show of heads, hands, and shoulders over the stockade was thickest. Barney was in his element. His rifle fell like a flail, and for every blow that got home he shouted a wild "Hurroo!" which evoked responsive yells from the negroes beside him, catching his enthusiasm. Jack's heart glowed as he saw how stoutly they fought.
It was not until the enemy had made two attempts to mount the stockade that they realized how very different their present task was from the massacre of unresisting men, women, and children that had hitherto represented their idea of fighting. The first repulse merely surprised and enraged them: they could not understand it; they were not accustomed to such a reception; and they yelled forth threats of exacting a terrible vengeance. But when for the second time they found themselves hurled back, they had no heart for further effort. Suddenly Elbel discovered that he was alone, except for one man lying stark beside him; the unwounded had scampered across the open to the shelter of the nearest trees. Some half dozen who had been hit with rifle bullets or clubbed at the palisade, were dragging themselves painfully towards the same shelter.
Jack, watching from his platform, perceived that Elbel was not among the retreating crowd. Was he hurt, he wondered? The next moment, however, he saw the Belgian sprint after his men, bending his head between his shoulders as a boy does to avoid a snowball. Several of Jack's men who had joined him on the platform brought their rifles to the shoulder, and only a curt stern order from Jack to drop their weapons saved Elbel from almost certain death.
"Bedad, thin, 'tis a pity not to let them have their way, sorr," expostulated Barney.
"That may be," replied Jack, "but I'm only on the defensive, remember. We're in no danger for the present; they've had enough of it; it's not for me to continue the fight. I hope Elbel has learnt a lesson and will leave us alone."
"Sure I do not agree wid you at all at all, sorr," said Barney, shaking his head. "To judge by the phiz uv him, Elbel is a disp'rate bad character. And isn't it all his deeds that prove it, with his whips and his forest guards—blagyards I call 'em—and all? Why, sorr, whin ye knocked him down the other day, why didn't he stand up fair and square and have it out wid ye? 'Twas an illigant chance which no gentleman, no Irishman, bedad! would have missed for worlds. Gentleman! 'Tis not the fortieth part uv a gentleman he has anywhere about him. 'Twas not the trick uv a gentleman to try to take ye by the back stairs while he blarneyed ye at the front door. And did he not try to murder ye before the fight began? A dirty trick, sorr; I would have let my men shoot him widout the hundredth part uv a scruple."
Jack was compelled to smile at Barney's honest indignation.
"All you say is very true," he said, "but we couldn't take a leaf out of his book, you know, Barney. Besides, look at it in another way. Suppose we shot Elbel? What would happen to uncle's mining venture? There's another Belgian here—I wonder where he came from. Apparently he has skedaddled. He'd certainly go and report to the authorities what had happened. You may be sure he wouldn't put our side of the case; and even if he did, there's no knowing how the Free State people would twist the evidence. They say the Free State judges are completely under the thumb of the executive. No doubt Elbel himself—who I suppose has to account for the cartridges his men use—will report this fight as a little affair with natives revolting against the rubber collection. He hasn't come well enough out of it to be anxious to call general attention to the matter. We've got off with a few bruises, I'm thankful to say; and we may very well be satisfied to let the quarrel rest there if Elbel takes no further steps."
Barney shook his head.
"Ye're a powerful hand at argyment, sorr," he said, "and ye'd be elected at the top uv the poll if ye stood as mimber uv Parlimint for Kilkenny. But an Irishman niver goes by argyment: he goes by his feelings, and my feeling is that there's no good at all in a man who refuses such an illigant chance uv a stand-up fight."
"Well, he's not altogether a ruffian. Look! there are three of his negroes coming with a flag of truce, to fetch the poor fellow who was killed, I expect. The State officials as a rule look on the negro as so much dirt; but Elbel seems to have some of the instincts of a human being."
"Bedad thin, I wouldn't be surprised if they're cannibals come for their dinner."
"Shut up, Barney. It's too terrible to think of. You'll take away my appetite; here's Samba, coming to tell us, I hope, that dinner's ready."
Jack scanned the neighbourhood. Save for the negroes carrying their dead comrade there was no sign of the enemy. He left two sentries on guard and returned to his hut, hot and famished. The sultry heat of the tropical afternoon settled down over the camp. Outside the stockade all was still; inside, the natives squatted in front of their huts, volubly discussing the incidents of the morning, and watching the antics of Pat, who, having been tied up, much to his disgust, during the fight, was profiting by his liberty to romp with the children.
The victory did not pass unchronicled. Before the negroes retired to rest, one of them had composed a song which will be handed down from father to son and become a tradition of his tribe:—
To the house of the dogTo fight Lokolobolo.Inglesa was he,Brave Lokolobolo,Lion and leopard,Friend of Imbono,Chief of Ilola.
Came Elobela,(Chorus) Yah!Bad Elobela,(Chorus) Yo!To the house of the dogCame Lokolobolo,(Chorus) Yah! Yo!Short was the fight.Where is he now,Sad Elobela?Gone to the forest,Beating his head,Hiding his eyesFrom Lokolobolo,Friend of Imbono,Lion and leopard,Brave Lokolobolo.
Every day since the advent of Elbel, Jack had been conscious of the growing danger of his position. A negro village, in the grip of rubber collectors; adjacent to it, a little settlement occupied mainly by negroes, many of whom were fugitives from a tyranny illegal indeed, but regularized by custom; in both settlements, natives who looked to him for help against their oppressors. It was a situation difficult enough to daunt the pluckiest lad not yet eighteen. But it is lads like Jack Challoner who make one of the prime glories of our Anglo-Saxon race. Is not page after page of our national annals filled with the deeds of youths—drummers, buglers, ensigns, midshipmen—who have stepped forward in moments of crisis, and shown a noble courage, a devotion to duty, and a capacity beyond their years?
Jack did not quail before the responsibility his uncle had all unwittingly thrown upon him, even though he knew that his victory over the Belgian might enormously increase his difficulties. Already he had wondered why Elbel had not put his settlement in a state of siege. The only conclusion he could come to was that the man was little more than a blusterer, without enough imagination to conceive the right means to adopt, or destitute of sufficient organizing power to put them in force. It would have been a comparatively simple matter, seeing his overwhelming strength in point of numbers, to prevent Jack from securing his needful supply of water from the stream; but day by day Elbel had allowed the women with their calabashes to go and come unmolested. Surely, Jack thought, he would now at any rate take that most obvious step towards the reduction of his enemy. And as he sat in his hut that evening, his head racked with pain from long thinking, he felt sick at heart as he realized how the fate of these poor people who had sought his aid seemed to depend on him alone.
Just as darkness had fallen, the chief Imbono came into the camp. Elbel had forbidden any one to leave the village, but the chief had bribed the sentry and been allowed to pass. He came to report that his young men had just returned from their rubber hunt after a week's absence in the forest, and learning of what had taken place, were bent on exacting vengeance for the insults and injuries inflicted on their people by the forest guards and by Elbel himself. With his defeat the Belgian's prestige had utterly gone, and to the ignorant negroes the opportunity seemed favourable for revenge. But Imbono, more far-seeing than they, had come to ask advice. He had great difficulty in holding his men in. Should he let them loose, to work their will upon their oppressors?
Jack earnestly advised the chief to do his utmost to restrain them.
"Believe me, my brother," he said, "if they do as you say they wish to do, it will almost certainly bring ruin upon you. Elobela will be only too glad to have an excuse for visiting upon you the rancour caused by his reverse. True, he failed to force my camp; but he is still stronger in arms and men than I. I could do nothing to help you; for if I once move out of the shelter of my stockade, I shall be at Elobela's mercy. In the open it is only rifles that count."
"I will do as you say, O Lokolobolo. But it is hard for me, for since the coming of Elobela my people do not obey me as they used to do. If I say, do this, Elobela forbids it; if I say, refrain from this, Elobela bids them do it. It is hard for them to serve two masters. But I will tell them what my brother says; I can do no more."
"You have another white man with you now, besides Elobela?"
"It is true, and he was struck by one of the balls from your guns, and is now lying sick in my hut: they have turned me out, and Elobela has said that I am no more to provide food for you, my brother, either from Ilola or from my other villages. But one of my young men told me that the party you sent out have obtained a supply, and wait in the forest until you bid them bring it in."
Jack thanked the chief, who returned to his village.
The news he brought was not of a kind to lessen Jack's anxiety. What he had expected had at last happened. He had little doubt that the commandeering of food would soon be followed by the stoppage of his water supply. Without access to water the camp was doomed. It was possible that if he made common cause with Imbono their united forces might overcome Elbel's forest guards; but the attempt could be made only at a terrible risk, and if it failed the whole population of the two settlements must be annihilated. Jack saw now that the presence of his camp so near Ilola was a source of danger to it. This could not have been foreseen; but how much better it would have been, he thought, if he had chosen a different site. At another spot, remote from the village, with a more defensible position, and near a good water supply, the present weaknesses would not have existed, and at all events Imbono might not have been involved in the consequences of the quarrel with Elbel.
But it was too late to think of that. Certainly no move could be made while Elbel was close by with a considerable force. If Elbel took advantage of his superiority to hold the camp closely invested, there would never be any possibility of moving at all. Deprived of water, Jack must soon choose between the alternatives—to surrender, or to make a sally at the head of his men and put all to the hazard of an open fight.
Two days passed. Jack kept a close watch on Ilola through his field-glass; all seemed quiet there, and of Elbel himself he saw nothing. What was his amazement, when at daybreak he took his stand on the platform overlooking Ilola, to see Elbel marching out at the head of the greater part of his force, and making for the river bank. He waited an hour, and when they did not return, and the patrols had not appeared, he sent out a couple of men by a roundabout way to follow the movements of the force, and allowed the usual water carriers to go out with their calabashes. These, returning soon with water, reported a strange thing. From the women of Ilola whom they had met on a like errand at the river, they had learnt that Elobela had set off with his men in their smoke-boat, and that Boloko had been left in charge of the village with about as many men as he had brought at first. Several hours later Jack's scouts came back, and said that they had followed along the bank the course of Elobela's launch; he was going rapidly down the river. They could only suppose that he was making for the headquarters of his company some hundreds of miles away.
"What did I say at all at all?" remarked Barney when Jack told him the great news. "He's no gentleman, that's as plain as the nose on his face, sorr. A man who will take two lickings and thin run away is not fit to wipe your shoes on."
"You seem disappointed, Barney, but frankly I'm very glad. I could fling up my hat and cheer if I hadn't to keep up my dignity before these natives. Though I fear we haven't seen the last of Mr. Elbel by any means. We shall have him upon us sooner or later with an overwhelming force. But sufficient unto the day; my uncle should be back long before that, if Elbel doesn't meet and stop him on the road. Well, we now have a chance to move our camp, for if Elbel is on his way to headquarters he can't get back for weeks. And first of all, Barney, take a dozen men and bring in that food that's waiting in the forest. We shan't be able to move for a day or two, at any rate; we must choose our site more carefully this time."
Thinking over the matter, Jack was not long in coming to the decision that the best place to establish his new camp would be near the cataract. From his recollection of the ground above it he thought it was admirably situated from a strategical point of view. It would have the incidental advantage of protecting Mr. Martindale's claim.
The one disadvantage was its distance from the sources of food supply. But this caused Jack to give serious consideration to a matter which had once or twice dimly suggested itself to him. He had been more and more impressed with the necessity of his party being self-supporting, so far as the staple articles of food were concerned, if they were to make a long stay in this country. He remembered how Stanley during his search for Emin Pasha had been able to sow, grow, and reap crops at Fort Bodo in a remarkably short time. Why should not he do the same? When he was joined by Mr. Martindale's contingent a large quantity of food would be needed. No doubt they would bring stores with them; but these could not last very long, especially in view of the unexpected drain upon the resources of the expedition caused by the arrival of the fugitives from Banonga and elsewhere.
"I wonder what Uncle will say when he sees them," Jack remarked to Barney, when he opened up to him this question of food supply. "You remember at Banonga he said he wasn't going to start a boys' home; this is still more serious—a sort of convalescent home for non-paying patients."
"'Tis meself that isn't wan little bit afraid uv what the master will say. Sure don't I know to a letther what 'twill be! 'My gracious me!'—don't ye hear him, sorr?—'what in the world will I want wid all these disgraceful lookin' objects? This ain't business. I'm not a philanthrophy, an' I don't exactly see my way to run a croosade.' An' thin he'll say, 'Poor fellow!' an' 'Poor wumman!' an' 'Poor little chap!' an' he'll dive his hands into his pockets an' suddenly remimber himself that money is no manner uv good in this counthry, an' he'll say: 'We must kind uv fix up some sort uv something for 'em, Barney.' Didn't I know 'm by heart the first day I drove him in London, and he went up to the horse and opened his jaw an' looked in his eyes an' says 'He'll do.' Sure I'd niver have named me little darlint uv a Pat to 'm if I hadn't known the kind uv gintleman he was at all."
Jack smiled at Barney's way of putting it, but admitted the truth of the portrait. Mr. Martindale was indeed a capable man of affairs—an example of the best type of the American man of business, the embodiment of the qualities by which the extraordinary commercial prosperity of the United States has been built up. But Jack knew that he was more than a man of business. His was a big heart, and it was one of the minor vexations of his life that he had to take some trouble to conceal it.
Jack's final conclusion was that there was not only every prospect of an extended stay if this mining scheme was to be followed up, but that the number of persons to be provided for would be more considerable than it was possible at present to calculate. Obviously, then, it behoved him to employ the time before Mr. Martindale's arrival in preparing for contingencies.
Elbel's departure had immediate consequences in Ilola. His presence had in some measure curbed the worse propensities of his black followers: they could only be brutal in obedience to orders; but the moment he was gone they began to show themselves once more in their true light. Before a day had passed Imbono came into the camp to complain of the insolence and rapacity of Boloko and his men. Jack advised him to do nothing to give Boloko any excuse for violence, but he had still to plumb the depths of savagery and brutality in the men whom the Free State Government callously allowed the trading companies to employ in the exploitation of rubber. He had still to learn that where violence was intended, not even the shadow of an excuse was any longer considered necessary.
One morning Imbono came to him in a frenzy of rage and indignation. His third wife had been tending her cooking pot when Boloko came up and asked what food she was preparing. "A fowl," she replied civilly. "Give it me," he demanded. "It is not yet cooked, O Boloko," the poor woman answered. "You refuse me, Ngondisi?" cried the ruffian. "Lift your hands and open your eyes wide that I may see the white of them, or I will shoot you." Ngondisi in terror obeyed. "You do not open them wide enough," said the wretch with a laugh, and he lifted the gun and fired; and the woman fell upon her face; she would never open her eyes again.
But Boloko had in this case reckoned without the spirit of confidence engendered in the natives by the discomfiture of Elbel. He had only ten men in the village when the incident occurred; the rest were absent, levying toll on Imbono's other villages a few miles distant. Even while Imbono, with tears of anguish, was telling Jack what had been done, the spark had been applied to the tinder. An extraordinary commotion was heard in the direction of Ilola: shots, yells, the war cry of infuriate men. Rushing out with Imbono, Jack arrived in the village to find that retaliation had at last been wreaked for months of wrong. It was difficult at first to make out what had happened. It appeared that in Imbono's absence the men of the village had suddenly seized their arms, and flung themselves in one desperate rush upon Boloko and his men. What cared they if several of their number fell before the tyrants' rifles? Heedless of wounds they closed about the forest guards; there was a brief hand-to-hand fight, eight of Boloko's men had fallen to weapons wielded with the energy of despair, and of the party only Boloko himself and two men had made their escape into the forest.
Elate with their victory, the men of Ilola had hastened off to the other villages, to surprise the guards there. It was too late now to recall them, but Jack had arrived on the spot just in time to rescue one man, whom the villagers were on the point of massacring. The white sous-officier who had been wounded in the fight before Jack's camp had been placed in Imbono's hut. Roused by the sound of firing, he had dragged himself from his mattress and, rifle in hand, came to the entrance of the hut just as Jack entered the gate with the chief. The villagers had forgotten him; but when they saw in their power a white man, one of those to whom all their afflictions were due, a band of them sprang towards him with uplifted spears. He fired: one of the men fell. The rest paused for an instant, and were on the point of dashing forward to make an end of their enemy when Jack rushed between them and their prey, and cried to them in Imbono's name to stay their hands. Reluctantly, with lowering countenances, they obeyed the command of their chief's white brother. No mercy had been shown to them: why should they show mercy? But when Imbono reminded them that the slaying of a white man would bring upon them the hordes of Bula Matadi, and that Elobela had already gone down the river, probably to bring many soldiers back with him, they sullenly drew off, and allowed Jack to remove the man to the safety of his own camp.
The Belgian knew no English, but Jack had a fair working knowledge of French which he found was equal to the occasion. The man explained that he was an ex-noncommissioned officer of the State forces, whose services had been enlisted by Elbel in dealing with the refractory natives. He seemed quite unable to understand Jack's point of view. To him the natives were so many parasites, the goods and chattels of the State, with no property and no rights.
"Why, monsieur," he said, "we pay them for the work they do; we have a right to demand labour of them for nothing. See what we have done for their country! Look at the rubber stations on the river, the fine buildings, the telegraphs, the cataract railway; where would all these blessings of civilization have been but for the noble self-sacrifice of King Leopold?"
Jack gave up the attempt to argue with him that the country belonged primarily to its natural inhabitants, forbore to point out that King Leopold had expressly declared that he had the advancement of the natives at heart. He contented himself with insisting that the actions of which Elbel and his minions had been guilty in Ilola were contrary to the law of the Free State itself. He was much struck by the Belgian's answer.
"Ah, monsieur, we have no book of rules, no code of laws. What can we do? We are the only law. Yes, monsieur, we are the only God in the Maranga."
Next day Jack went with Imbono and Lepoko to the waterfall, to survey the place as a possible site for a camp, or, to speak more strictly, a settlement. The chief was troubled and displeased at the prospect of the removal of his blood brother's camp, but made no urgent remonstrance. On arriving at the spot, Jack at once detected signs that some one had recently been making investigations there. He had no doubt that this was Elbel. The secret of the gold had probably been disclosed in an incautious moment to one of his escort by the men who had accompanied Mr. Martindale on his second visit. Elbel already knew enough of the American's business to make him keenly interested, and alert to follow up the slightest clue. Knowing what he now knew of the methods of the State officials, Jack was ready to believe that Elbel would strain every nerve to get Mr. Martindale hounded out of the country, in order to have an opportunity of turning the discovery of gold to his own profit. Could his sudden departure from the village, Jack wondered, have been his first move in this direction?
Carefully examining the ground above the waterfall, Jack saw that a good deal would have to be done to make it suitable for a settlement. He heard from Imbono that during several months of the year the stream was much broader than at present, and at the point where it debouched from the hill, three or four miles below, it and other streams overflowed their banks, forming a wide swamp, almost a lake, some ten miles from east to west and more than half a mile broad. This, during the rainy season, practically cut off all communication from the direction of the village. On the far side of the hill the bluffs were so precipitous as to make access very difficult. This isolated hill formed therefore a kind of huge castle, of which the swamp for half the year was the natural moat.
It seemed to Jack that the most convenient site for his new camp was the slope of the hill immediately above the cataract. The incline here was very slight; the hill face only became steep again about a quarter of a mile from the fall; there it rose abruptly for fully fifty or sixty yards, sloping gently for the next half mile. Jack saw that if he built his entrenched camp in the neighbourhood of the waterfall, it would be to a slight extent commanded by an enemy posted on the steep ascent above. But by raising his defences somewhat higher on that side he hoped to overcome this disadvantage.
With a little labour, he thought, the soil around the cataract could be made suitable for planting food-stuffs. It was virgin soil, and owing to the slight fall of the ground at this spot, and to the fact that it was partially protected by the contour of the hill against floods from above, the leaves that for ages past had fallen from the thick copses fringing the banks, and from the luxuriant undergrowth on the small plateau itself, had not been washed down. These deposits had greatly enriched the alluvium, and Imbono said that large crops of manioc, maize, groundnuts, and sweet potatoes could easily be grown, as well as plantains and bananas and sugar cane.
On returning to his camp by Ilola, Jack told Barney the results of his investigation, and announced that he had definitely made up his mind to settle on the new site.
"Very good, sorr," said Barney; "but what'll become uv Ilola? Beggin' your pardon, sorr, 'twas a very solemn affair, that ceremony uv brotherhood, an' though sure it had niver a blessing from a priest—an' like enough Father Mahone would think it a poor haythen sort uv business—still, to the poor niggers, sorr, it may be just as great a thing as if the priest had blessed it in the name uv Almighty God."
"Well, what are you driving at, Barney?"
"Why this, sorr. The chief and you made a bargain to help wan another; an' sure ye've kept it, both uv you. Well, if we go away, there's no more help for either uv you, an' 'tis Imbono will be most in need uv it."
"You mean that I'm deserting my ally, eh?"
"Bedad, sorr, isn't it me that knows ye'd niver do it? But I just speak for the look uv the thing, sorr. Sure niver a man knows betther than Barney O'Dowd that things are not always what they seem."
"To tell you the truth, Barney, I've been thinking it over on the way back. I could see that Imbono doesn't like the idea of our moving, though he was too polite to mention it——"
"'Tis a rale Irish gintleman he is, sorr," interrupted Barney.
"There's no doubt that Elbel, or Boloko, or both, will come back sooner or later. Leaving me out of the question, the slaughter of Boloko's party won't go unpunished. To overlook that would ruin the authority of the forest guards for hundreds of miles round. Well, what does it mean when they return? They'll make a terrible example of Ilola. Imbono and his people will be wiped out. And you're quite right in believing that I couldn't stand by and see that done. But you see what it involves. We must plan our camp so as to be able to take in the whole of Imbono's people from the three villages—I suppose about four hundred in all, children included. That's a large order, Barney."
"True it is, sorr. But you wouldn't keep out the childher, poor little souls; an' mighty proud uv Pat they are, too. Besides, sorr, they'll all help, ivery soul, to build the camp; many hands make light work; an' ye couldn't expect 'em to set up a lot uv huts for us barring they saw a chance uv bein' invited now and again, at least as payin' guests, sorr."
"Well, Barney, I'd made up my mind to it all along, but I thought I'd like to sound you first. So all we've got to do now is to relieve Imbono's suspense and set to work. We'll start with clearing the soil for crops. It will take some time to plan the new camp, and we've always this one to retreat to. Take Lepoko over to Ilola and make the announcement yourself, Barney."
"I will, sorr, wid the greatest pleasure in life. 'Deed, 'twas meself that took the news to Biddy O'Flaherty whin her pig had won the prize at Ballymahone Show, and was just coming away wid a penny in me pocket when I met Mike Henchie. 'An' what would ye be afther, Mike?' says I. 'Carryin' the news to Biddy O'Flaherty, to be sure,' says he. 'Arrah thin, 'tis too late ye are,' says I. 'Isn't it meself that's just got a penny for that same news?' 'Bedad,' says he, 'what will have come to Biddy at all?' 'What is it ye'd be maning?' says I; 'sure she didn't give me a penny,' says Mike, 'last year whin I brought her the news. She gave me a screech and went black in the face, an' sure 'twas for the same fun I'm here this blessed minute?' 'Husht!' says I. 'Biddy didn't win the prize last year at all. 'Twas Patsy M'Manus.' 'An' who is it this time but that same Patsy?' says Mike. 'But I heard the judge wid me very own ears give it to Biddy!' says I. 'Deed so,' says he; 'but some wan renumbered him that Patsy had won it two years on end. "Me old friend Patsy!" says he. "Sure I couldn't break her heart by spoilin' the third time. I'll give it to Patsy," says he.' An' Patsy hadn't shown a pig at all that year, sorr."
With characteristic energy, Jack next day set about the work in earnest. He posted sentinels several miles down the river and on the only forest paths by which a force was likely to approach, to give him timely notice if the enemy appeared. Then, with as many men as he could muster, and a great number of women, he hastened to the waterfall, and began the work of clearing the ground. He had decided to start from the site of the proposed settlement and work outwards, so that the crops would be as much as possible under the protection of the camp: it would never do to raise a harvest for the enemy to reap.
He placed Mboyo, Samba's father, in command of all his own people who had turned up, and of such people from other tribes as now came dropping in daily, the news of the white men who helped the negroes and feared not Bula Matadi having by this time spread abroad in the land. Every new contingent of fugitives brought a fresh tale of outrage, causing Jack to persevere under the discouragements with which he met, and to vow that he would do all in his power to protect the poor people who looked to him for succour. What the ultimate result of his action would be he did not stay to consider. It was enough for him that a work of urgent need lay ready to his hand.
He did not blink the fact that he and his followers were now in reality in revolt against the constituted authorities of the Free State. Elbel, it was true, was only a servant of a concessionnaire company, vested with certain trading and taxing privileges; but government as understood in the Free State was conducted by the delegation of powers from the central authority to private or corporate trading concerns. How far the powers of such a man as Elbel really extended in point of law Jack did not know. But he had been driven into his present position by a series of events in the face of which he could not find that any other course of action than the one he had adopted was open to him. And while he recognized fully the essential weakness of his position, however well fortified he might regard himself on grounds of humanity, he faced boldly what seemed the likeliest immediate consequence of his actions—the return of Elbel in force.
Meanwhile he was beginning to be a little concerned at not hearing from Mr. Martindale. It was many weeks since his last note had arrived. Jack was not yet seriously anxious about his uncle's non-appearance in person, for he could easily conceive that delays might occur in the prosecution of his business in strange places and among strange people, and when he reflected he came to the conclusion that Mr. Martindale might naturally hesitate to send many messengers. They were very expensive, having to come so many hundreds of miles, and moreover there was always a chance that a letter might miscarry. The Congo was not too safe a highway; the Free State methods had not been such as to instil a respect for "law" among the victims of its rule. Jack knew full well that if a messenger from his uncle fell into Elbel's hands, he would not be allowed to proceed. It was possible that Mr. Martindale's purchase of rifles, and their destination, had been discovered; and the idea that he might be involved in some trouble with the courts made Jack feel uneasy at times.
But he was so extremely busy that he had little leisure for speculation of any kind. The work of clearing the ground proceeded with wonderful rapidity.
"They talk about the negro being lazy," he remarked one day to Barney; "he doesn't look like it now."
"Ah, sorr, they say the same about my counthrymen. Perhaps the truth is the same in Ireland as 'tis here. For why are the niggers here not lazy, sorr? Just because you'd explained to them what the work's for, and they know they'll get the good uv it. There may be scuts uv spalpeens that won't work at any time for anything or anybody at all. 'Tis they I'd use that chicotte on, sorr; but I don't see any here, to be sure."
When enough ground had been cleared and sowed to furnish a considerable crop, Jack turned the whole of his available force on to the work of building the entrenched camp. Imbona had welcomed with gratitude and enthusiasm the suggestion that the new settlement should be made large enough to contain the whole population of his villages in case of need; and his men having discontinued their unprofitable search for rubber when the forest guards disappeared, he could employ them almost all in the work. For Jack did not recognize the prescriptive right of the men to leave all the field work, when the clearing had been done, to the women, as is the invariable negro custom. Whether in the fields or on the new defences, he insisted on all taking a share.
The greatest difficulty he encountered in the construction of his new camp was the want of materials. The country in the immediate vicinity of the waterfall was only sparsely wooded, and too much time and labour would be consumed in hauling logs from the forest below. But he found a large copse bordering the stream, higher up, and here he felled the trees, floating the logs down to the side of his settlement, not without difficulty, owing to the narrow tortuous bed. These, however, proved quite insufficient for the construction of a thick and impenetrable stockade round the whole circuit of the chosen site. Jack therefore determined to use the boulders that lay in the course of the stream, thus unawares making his camp a cross between an Afghan stone sangar and a log fort, such as were built by the pioneers and fur-traders of the American west. The labour of transporting the heavy boulders to the site of the settlement was very great; but the heart of the labourers being, as Barney had said, in their work, they toiled ungrudgingly, and, with the ingenuity that the negro often unexpectedly displays, they proved very fertile in simple labour-saving devices.
The fort was built on the left bank of the stream just above the cataract, so that the steep cliffs formed an effective defence to its southern side. Before falling over the precipice, the stream ran through a gully some twelve feet deep. The western side of the fort rested on the gully, and was thus with difficulty accessible in this quarter. Only on the north and east was it necessary to provide strong defensive works. These faces were each about a hundred yards long. At the western extremity of the northern face, where it rested on the stream, Jack placed a solid blockhouse of logs. He constructed a similar blockhouse at the eastern extremity of this face, and a third at the south-east corner where the stone wall abutted on the precipice. All three blockhouses were constructed as bastions, so as to enfilade the northern and eastern faces.
When the outer defences were thus completed, the negroes were set to work to build the necessary habitations within. Hundreds of tall stems, thousands of climbers, vines, and creepers, piles of palm and phrynia leaves, were collected, and in an amazingly short time the space so lately bare was covered with neat huts built in native fashion for the negroes, with three more substantial dwellings, somewhat apart from the rest, for Mr. Martindale, Jack, and Barney. A wide open space was left in the middle. At one point a great heap of boulders was collected for repairing the wall if necessary; and Jack placed his ammunition securely in an underground magazine.
In two months from the departure of Elbel Jack was able to transfer his stores to the new settlement. The crops in the cultivated area were already far advanced. Jack was amazed to see how quickly in this teeming soil the bare brown face of the earth became covered with the tender shoots of green, and how rapid was the progress to full maturity. Clearly the new village, to which the natives had given the name Ilombekabasi, "the house by the water," would be in no straits for its food supply.
It was Barney who suggested a doubt about the water. Jack found him as a rule a good commentator, but a poor originator; he could very prettily embroider an idea, but very rarely had an idea of his own. But on this occasion he had a flash of insight.
"By the powers, sorr," he said one morning, as Jack and he were walking along the stream, "I do remimber just this very minute two lines uv poethry, out uv a poethry book I was made to learn whin I was a bhoy an' they talked uv sendin' me in for 'zamination by the Intermaydiate Board. It never come to anything, to be sure, because by the time I was old enough to sit for the 'zamination I was too old, sorr."
"Well, what are the lines?"
'"Water, water iverywhere,An' not a dhrop to dhrink.'"
'Twas about some poor sailor man that shot a bird at sea, an 'twas a holy bird, an' whin 'twas dead the wind did not blow, an' the sailors dropped down dead, an' ghosts came aboard, an' the sky was like a hot copper, an' this poor divil uv a fellow was alone, all, all alone, as the book said, wid the dead bird slung round his neck, an' his lips parched, an' water all about, but as salt as a herring, so that he couldn't drink it; bedad, sorr, I remimber how mighty bad I felt meself whin my ould tacher—rest his sowl!—read out those lines in a sort uv whisper, an' me lips went as dhry as an old boot, sorr."
The idea, you perceive, was by this time pretty well smothered under its embroidery.
"You mean that the enemy might try to divert the stream if they attacked our camp?"
"'Tis the very marrow uv it, sorr, an' mighty aisy it would be. Sure there are plenty uv boulders left, an' they could make a dam that would turn this stream at the narrow part above, an' niver a blessed dhrop uv dhrink should we get."
"You're right, Barney. We must be prepared for anything. Let us go and look round."
Strolling up stream, they came, within a short distance of the spot where inspiration had flashed upon Barney, to a small spring bubbling up near the river bank.
"Here's water, Barney," said Jack. "It rather suggests that we'd find water inside the camp if we sank a well."
"True, sorr; but I'm thinking that would need a terrible deal uv diggin'."
"Still it may have to be done. We can't use this spring; it's a hundred yards at least away from the stockade—too far to come, under fire from Albini rifles."
"And we couldn't make it run into the camp, sorr, more's the pity."
"Stop a bit. I don't know that we couldn't. We might make a conduit."
"What might that be, sorr?"
"A pipe. It would have to be underground."
"And if we got a pipe, an' could lay it, the marks uv the diggin' would bethray us. Don't the streets uv London prove it whin the County Council has been taking up the drains?"
"Unless we could cover them in some way. That might be managed. A greater difficulty is the natives. They've worked very well, but we don't know yet how far they can be trusted; and if they knew of this water-pipe we propose, they might blab the secret and undo all our work."
"And where's the pipe, sorr? There are no gas pipes or drain pipes in this haythen counthry."
"No, but there are plenty of bamboos. We could make an excellent pipe of them. The digging is the difficulty. We can't get the natives to do it without giving our plan away, and we can't do it ourselves for the same reason. I shall have to think this out, Barney."
"Sleep on it, sorr. Begorra, I remimber two more lines from that same poetry book—
'Sleep, sleep, it is a blessed thingBeloved from pole to pole';
an' no wonder at all, for many a time I've gone to me bed bothered about wan thing or another, and bedad, the morn's morn 'twas all as clear as the blessed daylight, sorr."
"Well, I'll sleep on it, Barney, and let you know to-morrow what the result is."
It was close thought, however, before he fell asleep that gave Jack the solution of the problem. All the natives now knew that the object of the white man's presence here was to search for gold; they knew also that to obtain the gold the soil had to be excavated. Why not turn their knowledge to good account? Instead of laying his conduit in a direct line from the spring to the nearest point of the stockade, he would lay it along, or rather in, the side of the gully; it would thus be more likely to escape observation, and the disturbed ground could be planted with quick-growing creepers or covered up with boulders. As a blind to the natives, he would have a number of excavations made at the edge of the gully, both above and below the waterfall, and one of these could be used for the bamboo pipe without anybody being the wiser save the few who must necessarily be in the secret.
Next morning, accordingly, Jack, under pretence of continuing the search for gold, set the men to make a series of shallow excavations. Most of these were cut below the cataract, and, using the prospector's pan, Jack obtained what he hoped his uncle would consider good results from the soil. He carefully noted the places along the exposed bed of the stream in which the best returns were found. But the excavations were abandoned one by one, and attention was not unduly directed to any of them.
One of the excavations above the waterfall was the channel for the conduit. Jack carried it from within a few yards of the spring to a spot near the north-west blockhouse, overlooking the gully. At one time it seemed that his plan would be wrecked, literally upon a rock, for a huge mass of stone of almost granite hardness was met with a little less than half-way from the spring. But Jack was relieved to find soft earth beneath it, and the obstacle was turned by sinking the conduit at this place some feet below the usual level.
At a short distance from the blockhouse, within the stockade, Jack set the men to excavate a large tank, with a surface outlet over the cataract; and from the bottom of the tank he drove a tunnel, just large enough to accommodate a bamboo pipe, to the nearest point of the gully.
The tank was an object of great curiosity to the natives, both those who had dug it and those who looked on. The children amused themselves by jumping in and out until the bottom became so deep as to make that sport dangerous; their elders congregated at the edge, chattering among themselves, some suggesting that it was intended as a storehouse for grain, others, as a grave in which to bury Elobela and his men when they were killed in the fight that all expected.
Meanwhile Jack had taken two of the natives into his confidence. They were Mboyo and Samba. The former was silent by nature and habit. Samba would have torn out his tongue rather than divulge any secret of his master's. Jack entrusted to them the construction of the conduit. He knew enough of their language by this time to be able to explain what he wanted without Lepoko's assistance, and they quickly seized his idea. Working by themselves in a bamboo plantation at Ilola, they selected stalks of slightly different thickness which would fit into one another; and Jack found that by carefully packing the joints with earth from the peaty swamp, he could make a pipe of the required length practically free from leakage.
It remained to lay the conduit in position. This task he reserved for himself and Barney, with the assistance of Mboyo and Samba. To avoid observation by the people, it was necessary to do the work at night. Accordingly one day Jack gave orders that no one was to leave the camp without permission after the evening meal was eaten. Immediately after sunset the four quickly issued from the gate in the northern wall of the fort, one at a time so as not to attract attention. Mboyo and Samba brought the sections of the pipe from the place where they had concealed them, and under Jack's direction they laid them along the gully, covering up each length of bamboo as it was placed. The trench having been already prepared, the actual labour involved was not great, the only difficulty being to remove as far as possible the traces of their operations. But it took time, and was impeded by the darkness, so that on the first night, after several hours of work, only the pipe had been laid, no connexion having yet been made with the tank or the spring.
The work was continued under similar conditions on the following night. A connexion having been made with the tank, it only remained to tap the spring. A hole, some three feet deep, was dug where the water bubbled up, and formed into a fairly water-tight chamber by lining it with stone chipped from the boulders. Into this one end of the conduit was carried. Then the hole was filled in, and covered with two heavy pieces of rock, placed in as natural and unstudied a position as possible. While this was being done by Mboyo and Samba, Jack and Barney dibbled the roots of sweet potato creepers into the soil along the whole length of the conduit, knowing that they would grow so rapidly that in a few weeks every trace of their work would be hidden by the foliage; moreover the plant would serve a double purpose.
The spring was a small one; nevertheless, by the time the night's task was completed, and the party returned to the camp, there were already two or three inches of water in the tank, and it was steadily rising. Barney was even more delighted than Jack.
"'Tis wonderful what a power uv good poethry can do in the world, sorr," he said. "An' sure the commissionaires uv education in the ould counthry would be proud men the day did they know that Barney O'Dowd, though he didn't pass his 'zamination, has made a mighty fine use uv the little poethry book."
Great was the surprise of the natives when they awoke next morning to see the mysterious tank full of water, and a tiny overflow trickling from it over the cataract. They discussed it for the whole of the day, inventing every explanation but the right one. The original spring had been so near the river and so inconspicuous that its disappearance was not noticed.
Jack felt a glow of satisfaction as he looked round on his work. Here was an orderly settlement, on an excellent natural site, defended by a stockade and wall impregnable save to artillery, with fresh clean huts, well-cultivated fields, and an inexhaustible water supply. It had involved much thought and care and toil; how amply they had been rewarded!
His men were now all transferred from their old settlement to the new one. Imbono's people still remained in their villages, not without reluctance. They knew that the gate of Ilombekabasi would always be open to them if danger threatened; but they felt the attractions of the place, and wished to migrate at once. And they were particularly jealous of the refugees. These people were strangers; why should they have better habitations and stronger defences than they themselves? Why were they permitted to remain in Imbono's country at all? Jack had much ado to keep the peace between the two parties. Quarrels were frequent, and that they did not develop into open strife was a tribute to Jack's diplomacy, and to the strange influence which Samba had acquired. The winning qualities which had captivated Mr. Martindale seemed to have a magical effect upon the people. The boy had always been a special pet among his own folks; his merry nature won the affection of Imbono's subjects also. Jack kept an observant eye upon him, and more than once saw him quietly approach a group where bickering and recrimination were going on, and by some grace of address, or some droll antic played with his inseparable companion Pat, turn frowns to smiles, and suspicion to good fellowship.
Among the inhabitants of Ilombekabasi was the Belgian sergeant rescued from the villagers in Ilola. He gave his parole not to attempt to escape, and indeed endured captivity patiently, for he knew not how far away his friends might be, and to wander alone in this forest country meant death. Jack sometimes talked with him, taking the opportunity of airing his French, and finding some little interest in sounding the man's views. At first the Belgian would not admit that the natives had any rights, or that there was anything particularly obnoxious in the system of administration. But he changed his mind one day when Jack put to him a personal question.
"How would you, a Belgian, like it if some strange sovereign—the German emperor, say—came down upon you and compelled you to go into your woods and collect beech-nuts for him, paying you at the rate of a sou a day, or not at all, and thrashing or maiming or killing you if you did not collect enough?"
The question was unanswerable, and from that time the Belgian became a meditative man.
The refugees were gradually increasing in number. By the time the camp was finished Mboyo's command had grown to sixty men, with nearly as many women and twice as many children. All brought stories of the barbarous deeds of the rubber collectors; many bore in maimed limbs or scarred backs the personal evidences of the oppressors' cruelty. Jack was moved almost to tears one day. A fine-looking negro came into the camp carrying something wrapped in palm leaves, and asked to be taken to Lokolobolo. When brought before Jack he removed the wrappings, and, unutterable woe depicted on his face, displayed a tiny black hand and foot. His village had been raided, he said, and with his wife and children and a few others he had fled to the forest, where they lived on roots and leaves and nuts. The forest guards tracked them out. One day, when he was absent fishing, a brutal sentry came upon his wife as she was collecting leaves for the evening meal. He learnt from one of his friends what happened. Before the woman could escape the sentry shot her, and as she was only wounded, his "boys" chopped her with their knives till she died. Others of his hangers-on took the children; and when the father returned to the place where he had left them, he found the dead body of his wife, and one hand and foot, all that remained of his little ones from the cannibal feast.
It was incidents like these that stiffened Jack's back. He had crossed his Rubicon: the gate of Ilombekabasi stood open to all who chose to come. And they came steadily. For a time many of them were too weak to be useful members of the little society. But as with good food and freedom from care their strength increased, they began to be self-supporting, Mboyo employed them in attending to the crops and bringing new ground under cultivation. Several were artificers, and were useful in doing smith's or carpenter's work.
In addition to keeping the villagers employed, Jack set apart a portion of every day for military exercises. Every able-bodied man was armed; those for whom there were no rifles carried the native spears. When Boloko fled from Ilola he left a number of Albini rifles and a stock of ammunition behind. These Jack appropriated, so that his corps of riflemen now numbered sixty. He used his cartridges very sparingly, for his stock was not large, and he saw no possibility of replenishing it.
Now and again he arranged for a sham fight. One party of men was told off to storm the stockade, an equal party to defend it. No firearms were used on these occasions; the weapons employed were wooden poles with wadded ends. Such fights afforded excellent practice against a real attack, and not a little amusement and enjoyment to the natives, who entered into the spirit of them enthusiastically, and took the hard knocks and bruises with as much cheerfulness as schoolboys on a football field. These little operations were useful to Jack also. By their means he discovered the weak spots in his defences, and was able to strengthen them accordingly.
But he was now becoming seriously alarmed at Mr. Martindale's continued absence. Eight weeks had passed since his last letter came to hand, nearly five months since his departure. What could have happened? Jack could not think that his uncle had willingly left him so long to bear his heavy responsibility, and now that he had more leisure he could not prevent himself from imagining all kinds of mishaps and disasters. At last, when he was on the point of sending a special messenger down the river to make inquiries, a negro arrived at the settlement with a letter. He had come within a hundred and fifty miles of Ilombekabasi as a paddler on a white man's canoe; the remainder of the distance he had covered on foot. Jack opened the letter eagerly. It read:—
MY DEAR JACK,—
Sorry to leave you so long. Have been on my back with an attack of malaria; three weeks unconscious, they told me. No need to be anxious: I'm on the mend; soon be as fit as a riddle. Pretty weak, of course; malaria isn't exactly slathers of fun. It will be a fortnight or three weeks before I can start; then must travel slowly. Expect me somewhat over a month after you get this. I've been in a stew about you. Hope you've had no trouble. Can you stomach native food? Didn't forget your birthday. Got a present for you—quite a daisy.
Your affectionate uncle,JOHN MARTINDALE.
P.S.—Got some hydraulic plant at Boma: a bargain.