"Fine work!" whispered Burt. He was answered by a sigh of relief.
"Take Ta, will you? I'm all in." Critch sank weakly down, and with some repugnance Burt caught the mummy. Placing it in the hole, he filled in the earth, tramped it down, and sprinkled leaves and bones over the place. "Say," went on his chum, "that may have sounded funny to you, but it was something fierce!"
"Never mind," murmured Burt. "You did it mighty fine, old man."
"It was awful to think what'd happen if I made a slip," confessed Critch. "Honest, Burt, I was so weak-kneed I could hardly walk over here! How you coming?"
"He's buried," responded Burt as he finished his task. "Do we go out now?"
"No use keeping them waitin'," said Critch. "I'm goin' to leave theankhand the mummy-case in here for good. Are you ready? Give me a hand."
Burt helped his chum to his feet. Critch stepped into the doorway, holding Burt's hand. Then began a slow and solemn advance across the firelit space before the hut. As the figures of the two boys came into sight of the pigmies, an indescribable murmur of awe swept from the crowd. Then came a prolonged groan of unutterable horror as Burt's facestood out more clearly, and Burt, whose gaze was fixed on Mbopo, saw the pigmy chief go down in the dust, his extended hands trembling in the firelight. A moment more and the boys stood beside theankh.
Releasing Burt's hand, Critch caught the loop of the symbol of Maat and stood it on end. Then Burt placed his hand on it beside that of Critch. At this a click, seemingly of joy, arose from the crowd. Mbopo looked up, his face ashen gray, and wild amazement in his eyes.
Critch now beckoned the two brothers forward, and at his repeated gestures they trembling took up theankhon the spear and awaited his further commands.
"Take one end o' the case," directed Critch. Burt obeyed, and the two boys led the way back to the hut. No sooner had they deposited theankhthan Burt chanced to touch one of the pigmies in the dark. The man gave a terrific shriek and dashed through the doorway, followed by his brother. For a moment a wild fear clutched Burt. What if the mob imagined that they were hurting the two men? The boys hurried out, and foundthe men prostrate beside Mbopo. Critch raised them up and Burt, needing no instruction, smilingly touched each of the shrinking men in turn. Finding that they suffered nothing, their fear gradually lessened, and as Mbopo grasped the hand of Burt there was a look of joy in the honest eyes of the young dwarf that told far more than any words could have done.
Then Critch led the way to the village. The crowd, still prostrate, separated to let them through. Ten minutes later the boys lay side by side on a heap of skins in a hut, too much overcome by the strain to even speak. But as Burt fell asleep, he knew that they had won the fight.
When he wakened, it was hard for Burt to realize where he was. He stared up at the thatched roof above him and gradually collected his thoughts. A shiver swept over him as he recollected what had occurred the preceding night. He sat up, and saw Critch still asleep beside him. It appeared to be broad daylight outside, and he roused his chum at once. Critch rolled over and sprang to his feet, then stood blinking around with so puzzled an expression that Burt went into a shout of laughter.
"What's the matter?" he gasped.
"I was dreaming that old Ta was having a scrap with me," confessed his chum sheepishly. "He threw theankhat me and just then Pongo come along and jumped him. Both of 'em rolled over on me and I woke up."
"Say, was last night all a dream?" asked Burt, soberly, as he stared at his chum. "Or did we really put it over—"
"You bet we did!" cried Critch with a grin of recollection. "No dream about that, old man. We've only been here two days, but we've done a heap of things. Now we got to finish the lion. Then we can see about getting off."
"I'm not anxious to monkey with Pongo," stated Burt. "However, we might send out Mbopo to trail him. I'll take him over to the hut if you'll get some breakfast fixed up."
"I'm on," exclaimed Critch. Upon leaving the hut, the two boys found themselves objects of awed veneration from the pigmies. They met Mbopo, and Burt took him out to the sacred hut. Here he described the fight with Pongo in detail, not mentioning when it occurred and purposely leaving the dwarf rather confused. There could be no such doubt about the struggle itself, however, and Mbopo nodded understandingly.
They then left the ivory zareba while Mbopo made a cast around the place for the lion's trail. Burt accompanied him, and Mbopo soon uttered a shout of excitement. Running to his side, Burt saw the beaten spot in the tall grass where the lion must have alighted from his last leap over the ivory zareba after having been wounded. There was a speck or two ofdried blood in evidence, and Mbopo found more blood farther on, as well as a clearly defined trail. The excited pigmy was for following it up at once, but Burt held him back. By dint of much patience he made Mbopo understand that Critch, whom the pigmies called "Mwanzi," or "Red-head," must accompany them, as well as some warriors. Burt had had one experience with a wounded lion and he intended to take no chances this time.
The two returned to the village where Mbopo shouted forth his news, and Burt was instantly the center of an excited mob. He pushed through them, however, and found Critch with breakfast ready. Over the meal they discussed the matter of the lion, and decided to start out at once.
"Mebbe they'll go without waitin' for us," suggested Burt, glancing at the chattering crowd of warriors around the young chief. Critch shook his head.
"Not much. They ain't got the nerve. They'll do whatever we tell 'em, but they won't leave us out o' the game, take it from me."
As soon as they had finished, the boys joined Mbopo. Their first object was a search for weapons.Critch suggested taking two of the spears, whose blades were over a foot long and keen as a razor, but Burt objected.
"We don't know how to use them," he said. "Let's see; didn't Cap'n Mac say something about trade-guns?"
"Mebbe he did," assented Critch, "but I haven't seen any sign of guns around here. Let's ask Mbopo."
They tried to make the young chief understand, but without success. Thereupon the boys took matters into their own hands, and began a search among the largest huts. This was presently rewarded by the finding of an old Snider, wrapped in tarpaulin. There were three cartridges in the magazine, but no more. These were displayed to Mbopo, but he stated that there were no more weapons of the kind in the village.
"Well, she seems to be in pretty fair shape," remarked Burt, squinting down the barrel of the rifle. "Get some palm oil, Critch. Three bullets ought to do."
"Don't catch me around when you fire that thing," sniffed his chum disgustedly. "She's liable to bust. I'll bet she's twenty years old."
"Better'n a spear at that," chuckled Burt, oiling the rifle until it worked perfectly. "We ain't so badly off, Critch. There, I guess that'll do. Ready?"
Critch armed himself with one of the spears, and at the head of twenty picked warriors they left the village. Mbopo led the way to the spoor already found, and Critch at once ordered the pigmy warriors to follow it up.
"Let 'em take the chances," he grinned. "They ain't scared now I'm along. If they find Pongo you can finish him with the gun—unless the gun finishes you."
"You're sore because you didn't find the gun yourself," retorted Burt. "Come on, they're quite a ways ahead."
The pigmies had started at once along the spoor of the lion, spreading out on either side and calling to one another continually. The boys followed more carefully with Mbopo. The spoor led them through the long rank grass into the forest, and was easy for the boys to read.
The lion had made only one leap after leaving the zareba. This had taken him almost across the grassy space. Upon reaching the first thicket hehad crawled along and left a plain blood-marked trail for the hunters to follow. A hundred yards farther on they heard a shrill yell from ahead, and hurried on.
Emerging from the thicket, they found the pigmies clustered about a clump of thorn-bushes. These were almost impenetrable save by the trail left by the lion. The pigmies reported to Mbopo, who turned to Critch.
"Him Pongo in there," he stated, pointing to the bushes with a grin. "Mwanzi kill? Vera good!"
Critch hesitated. He glanced at the waiting pigmies, who evidently had not the slightest intention of robbing him of the honor of going first.
"Come on," he muttered to Burt. "We got to pull the bluff through right here. Have your gun ready."
Burt nodded. The two boys, their hearts beating fast, advanced to the edge of the thicket. No sound came from the bushes, and Burt thrust the first branches aside as he entered. The thorns made sad havoc with their clothes, but the boys were too anxious to heed this. A moment later Burt gave a startled exclamation. Critch came to his side, and the boys saw atawny shape lying ahead of them.
"Is he dead?" whispered Critch.
"Can't see him plain enough," responded Burt. "If he jumps and I don't stop him, try to catch him on the spear."
A few steps farther on and the lion came into full view. He was lying on his side, stretched out, and something black hid his head. Burt levelled the gun, but as he did so the black object resolved itself into a swarm of flies, who buzzed up at the noise made by the boys.
"Hurray!" shouted Burt, flinging down the gun, "he's dead!"
"Look at the axe!" yelled his chum, pointing to the weapon that was almost buried in the skull of the beast. "Golly, you must have hit like fury! Hey, Mbopo!"
The pigmies were not far behind the boys, and at the shout they came dashing forward. A shrill yell went up as they saw the dead lion, then all remained silent and motionless, gazing down at the form of the beast which they had worshipped for so long. That he was blind could be easily made out, for the white scar ran across his eyes, which were notpleasant to see. Burt turned away with a shudder.
"Leave Mbopo to skin him, Critch. I'm goin' back where it's cool."
His chum nodded, directed Mbopo to skin the lion and followed Burt back to the shade of the hut. There the two boys settled down for a talk.
"We got nothing to worry over now," remarked Critch, "except the getting away. How'll we keep the skin of Pongo?"
"Let Mbopo do that," replied Burt. "They can fix it so it'll keep long enough to get down the river with anyhow." He suddenly sat up. "Say, building that raft is going to be some job! Let's have a look at the river."
"Come on," and Critch sprang to his feet. "If we do get off, Burt, let's take a collection o' these pigmy weapons. Wouldn't they be swell in our rooms at home?"
"Right now I'd take the rooms without anything at all in 'em," grinned Burt, who was fast recovering his spirits in the fresh morning air. A few moments later they reached the village, which stood on the river bank, and descended by a well-worn path to the edge of the stream.
"There's some big trees growin' handy," announced Critch. "How'll we make it?" Burt thought a moment.
"Why," he replied slowly, "take four big logs an' lash 'em in a square. Then put four on top o' them, with a platform. That ought to float pretty high even with a good load. Guess we'll have to make two rafts, though. We couldn't carry any men an' that ivory on one, 'less we made it almighty big."
"The river wouldn't stand for a very big one," suggested Critch. "Go an' get a bunch o' the men, Burt. We might as well pitch in right now."
Burt nodded and returned up the path, leaving Critch to inspect the trees growing at the edge of the river. He returned with a score of men, all of whom brought their little axes. They looked wonderingly at the two boys.
"Here's a good tree," declared Critch, pointing to one about two feet through. "We'll take an axe an' show 'em how to do it."
Shedding their upper garments, for the place was by no means cool, the boys fell to work on the tree. The pigmies comprehended at once, andalso went to work on three other trees picked out by the boys. The latter, having started things satisfactorily, flung themselves down in the shade and directed operations.
When the first tree was about to fall, they showed the dwarfs how to make it fall toward the stream, so that it lay half in the water. There seemed to be no crocodiles in the river, the men splashing about without fear. Then Burt took a spear and measured a straight section of the trunk for three spear-lengths, or fifteen feet. While Critch saw that this was lopped and cut rightly, Burt visited the other workers.
All this, however, was not done in a few moments. The axes of the pigmies were keen, but they were also very small. No sooner had the work begun than the whole tribe came down from the village to look on with wondering interest, and Mbopo shortly after arrived also.
It was well into the afternoon before the four trees were down, and not until noon of the next day were they cut into the proper lengths and trimmed. Finally, however, the logs lay end to end in the shape of a square, in the shallow water. Burt now explained to Mbopo that these were to be fastened together. The young chief comprehended at once, andwith strips of tough hides had the first part of the raft completed by nightfall.
The abundance of help lightened the work wonderfully, as the other warriors learned the work. They went at it like children, laughing and playing continually, until the two white boys wondered how they could ever have stood in fear of these pranking dwarfs who were so full of fun and laughter.
At the end of five days the first raft was finished to the satisfaction of the boys. Even when the platform was crowded with men it floated clear of the water, and with an ordinary load the platform would be at least a foot above the surface. The whole fabric was very strong, for the platform itself was formed of saplings which were lashed carefully, and no ordinary shock would break up the raft. A small bulwark was then run around the edges.
At the end of a week the second raft also lay completed, and now the boys had to face the somewhat difficult task of explaining their purpose to Mbopo. They took him over to the sacred hut, and Burt pointed to theivory tusks, with gestures of uprooting them.
"Take him to Buburika Mac," he explained over and over. "You go along. Come back afterwards."
Mbopo looked doubtful as he grasped the idea that the tusks were to be loaded on the rafts. Finally, however, he nodded and the boys drew a breath of relief. That they would be obeyed now they had no fear at all, for the pigmies were their devoted slaves in every way, and stood in evident awe of the two boys and especially of "Mwanzi."
This belief was confirmed when Mbopo addressed the tribe in a great council that night. The pigmies made not the slightest opposition, and the boys could see by his gestures that he was describing their desires.
"All right," murmured Burt as the two short guttural barks ascended from the audience, "it's all over but the shouting, Critch. S'pose we can get the stuff loaded up to-morrow?"
"We ought to," replied his chum. "We'll have to see first. Those thorns are tangled up with the tusks somethin' fierce."
Next morning the entire tribe left the village and approached thesacred hut of Pongo. Under the direction of Mbopo, who took matters into his own hands now, the work of uprooting the ivory was begun. This was difficult, but by evening the last of the great tusks lay in the pile by the river edge. All that remained was to load them aboard the rafts. This, however, would be no easy matter, for the tusks were heavy and the balance of the rafts must be preserved.
Critch took charge of the loading, while Burt attended to getting provisions together for the journey. There was dried meat in abundance, and plenty of fresh vegetables and fruits. The boys had a long consultation over loading the ivory, for even with the protection of the dwarfs a raftload of tusks would be too much of an inducement for the tribes they were sure to meet.
At length it was settled by making a layer of tusks, of which there were thirty-nine in all, on the platforms. Fifteen of the tusks had been discarded by the boys as worthless. Over the layer of ivory was placed enough dirt to fill in the spaces and hold the tusks steady. A top layer of skins completed the whole.
The young chief made no objection to taking the journey on the rafts,for the boys held out "Buburika Mac" at the end of the trip as a bribe, and Mbopo could not resist. He selected six warriors for each raft; he and Burt took charge of one and Critch of the other. Poles were cut for the "deckhands," as Burt named the crews, and at length all was ready.
The start was made in the early dawn of a perfect day. The whole tribe assembled to see the party off, and it was plain that the pigmies, while not opposing the departure, did not like to lose "Mwanzi," for many gifts were brought to the boys, with gestures of good will. In their turn, Burt and Critch gave away all the small articles they possessed except those which they would absolutely need. Their collection of weapons was completed, and Burt carefully wrapped up the rifle with its three precious cartridges in the tarpaulin. As the sequel proved, it was well indeed for the boys that they had found the old rifle.
Finally all was ready. The warriors took their places on board, standing amid the piles of provisions and skins of water, for the boys dared not drink the river water.
"Cast off!" shouted Critch, throwing off the vine that bound his raft to the bank. Burt followed suit. A roll of tom-toms and a loud shout rose from the tribe, which was answered by a shout from the crews. Slowly the poles sent the rafts out into mid-stream, where the current caught them and swept them down. For half a mile they remained in sight of the village, then a bend swept all away. The perilous voyage was begun.
Burt's raft followed that of Critch at a distance of fifty feet. Neither boy made any effort to increase the speed of the craft, confining their efforts to keeping the rafts from turning around and around in the current. Both floated well above the water, and the pigmies were highly delighted with their novel situation.
The river was of good size and to the joy of the two boys it continued to flow steadily toward the northwest. They floated down between banks of heavy vegetation, but saw no signs of life. That night they camped on an island and the party seemed in high spirits.
The next day they received their first sign of the hidden life that filled the great jungles. There came a high shrill yell from one bank, to which Mbopo replied, and the boys knew that once more they were among the black dwarfs. This was repeated in the afternoon, but even by theaid of their glasses they could not make out who had hailed them.
Only once did they meet with trouble. This occurred when Critch ran aground on a hidden shoal. The solid raft ran deeply into the mud of the river bottom and it took the efforts of both crews to get her off.
For three days more they floated down the river, but on the third evening both boys noticed signs of uneasiness among the pigmies. In the morning, before the start, Mbopo approached Critch.
"Where Buburika Mac?" he inquired, glancing around as if he expected to find Captain Montenay in their vicinity. Critch glanced at Burt.
"Him down there," and he waved his hand downstream. Mbopo looked doubtfully around.
"Mbopo no like vera good," was his reply. "Him Zwengi pretty quick."
"Zwengi?" repeated Critch, puzzled.
"Him vera bad," declared Mbopo. "Him big, much fight. Mbopo no like."
"Must be a tribe they're at war with," said Burt. He took up the rifle and turned to the chief. "Him kill Zwengi."
"Mwanzi kill Zwengi?" asked Mbopo of Critch, plainly putting all his faith in the latter's prowess. Critch laughed and nodded. Mbopo turned and spoke joyfully to his men, who instantly lost their uneasy appearance and sprang aboard with a shout of delight.
"It's up to you," grinned Burt, and Critch nodded soberly.
"Plain bluff again," he said. "If we are held up, those bows o' the dwarfs ought to get in good work, an' your three cartridges'll help a whole lot unless the Zwengi have guns. If they have, it's all up, I guess."
"The Makua can't be so very far off now," replied Burt. "The river's getting bigger and bigger, and the current's swifter. S'pose we could rig up any kind of breastwork on the rafts?"
"Better not waste time trying," dissented Critch. "I'm afraid of making them top-heavy. Well, let's be off. We ought to hit the Makua pretty quick now. If we don't meet Cap'n Mac I expect Mbopo'll be sore. That's what's worrying me right now."
It was worrying Burt too, but he jumped aboard his raft and cast loose without giving vent to his fears. He realized only too well that theZwengi might have canoes, and if they were discovered and pursued their only hope was to beat off the enemy.
For several hours they swept along the rapidly widening river without any sign of a foe. Toward noon the stream swept around in a great bend, and as Burt stared ahead he caught a wild shout from Critch.
"There she is!" and the red-haired boy danced around and waved his arms back at the other raft. "The Makua, Burt!"
Sweeping around with the current, Burt saw ahead of them two or three scattered islands. Beyond these was the sheen of water, and he could plainly see that their river formed a juncture with another and much larger stream. As he was staring down the river there came a sudden yell from his men.
"Zwengi!"
Whirling around, Burt saw them pointing to the right bank. At the same instant a yell of alarm went up from Critch's raft. It was answered by another shout from the right bank, and Burt saw three long canoes putting out, with a crowd of savage warriors pouring into others. He sawinstantly that they had only one chance.
"Make for the island!" he shouted to Critch. "Land and hold them off!"
Critch waved his hand, and both boys set the men to work frantically, trying to guide the unwieldy craft toward an island that rose straight ahead of them. Burt unwrapped the rifle, but did not wish to use it until he had to.
With a dozen paddlers in each, the big war canoes shot out across the river to head off the first raft. Now, the bows used by the white pigmies were larger than those of any other tribe the boys had seen. They were fully as long as the men themselves and of great strength. Burt saw Critch say something to Mbopo and take the pole from one of his men. Instantly he followed suit, directing the man he relieved to shoot at two of the following canoes which were heading toward them. As he did so a flight of arrows came over the water, all but one falling short, the one rebounding from the wet logs without sticking.
As Burt's man caught up his bow, the boy saw Mbopo and another warrior loose their shafts from the first raft. The arrows, driven by the fullforce of those tremendous bows, easily reached to the canoes. The bowman in the first canoe gave a yell and dropped his paddle; as he did so, the man behind him threw up his arms and fell back, overturning the canoe. At this instant Burt's man shot, and although his arrow missed, the pursuing canoes instantly ceased their approach and sheered off, paddling down ahead of the rafts.
Their plan was evident. By reaching the islands ahead of the two rafts, which were still two hundred yards away, they could command the passages that led into the Makua. Realizing the danger as he saw one of the canoes turn and head for the island in front of them, Burt took up his rifle. He did not wish to shoot to kill and therefore took careful aim at the bow of the canoe, ahead of the bowman and just at the waterline. As the canoes were hollowed-out logs, a bullet there would shatter the whole bow.
Trusting to luck that the old rifle would hold together, Burt pulled the trigger. The sharp crack awoke a thousand echoes from the forest on either hand. At the same instant the bow of the canoe seemed to fly into splinters, a shrill yell of fear went up from the foe, and as the canoe filled, the others instantly turned back but still continued downstream.A moment later Critch's raft swept down toward the island, four of the pigmies sprang out, and drew her safely to shore.
The other islands, however, were well within range of the Zwengi bows and to them the canoes dashed. Mbopo's men sent one whirling downstream by a flight of arrows that completely cleared the craft, but the others gained the shelter of the islands just as Burt's raft was landed beside that of Critch. Then the dwarfs made fast and sprang out.
"We're in for it," cried Critch, pointing upstream. "Look there!"
Pulling out his glasses, Burt saw at least a dozen other canoes slinking down close to the banks. Catching up his rifle, he aimed full at the bow of the first. It was a long shot, but as the echoes rose the boys saw the paddlers spring overboard, and the canoe filled and sank a moment later.
"Dandy shot," shouted Critch, "but they got us, Burt! Mebbe we can hold 'em off while our arrows last, but—"
At that instant something happened that caused the boys to whirl and stare at each other with palefaces. Clear and sharp above the yells of the warriors, and coming from the left bank, the south bank, they had heard the report of a heavy rifle!
"Hear that!" yelled Burt. "There's a hunter there!"
"Hurray!" shouted his chum, turning and hitting Mbopo a clap on the back that sent the dwarf staggering. "Mwanzi'll fix them, old scout. Hurray! Try another shot, Burt!"
And as a flight of Zwengi arrows poured into the island, Burt fired again, this time in the air. As if in answer there came another shot from the left bank, and a yell went up from the dwarfs as one of their foes on the neighboring island threw up his arms and fell back. A shriek of terror went up from the Zwengi, while the pigmy arrows played havoc among them as they fled back to their canoes. Next instant a canoe put out from the south bank.
"Look there!" shouted Burt, peering through his glasses. "White helmets! We're saved, Critch!"
"Yes," and Critch began to dance up and down, waving his arms like mad, "an' it's your uncle and Cap'n Mac! Hurray! Hurray!"
A week later a small German Company steamer was making her way down the broad Makua River. In the shade of her awning reclined Mr. Wallace, Captain Montenay, Burt and Critch. John was busying himself forward, and the decks of the little craft were littered with long, curved packages that looked strangely like elephant tusks.
"Well, it was mighty lucky for us that you started after us that way," Burt was saying. "If you'd tried to strike right through the black dwarf country we'd have missed you. Ain't it queer how things worked out?"
"Not a bit," asserted Captain Mac quietly. "It looks to me, Burt, as if the hand o' Providence was in it."
The boys stared at the Scotchman for a moment in wonder. Suddenly Burt sprang to his feet.
"Oh, I forgot!" he cried. "I ain't showed you that roll yet!" Dashing off to the cabin, he returned with the tightly rolled packet he had taken from the mummy as he and Critch had unwrapped it. Mr. Wallace took it with an exclamation of pleasure.
"This is really something worth having, boys!" he declared, carefullyunfolding the papyrus. "Hello! Let's see what it says."
In spite of its age, the first part that unrolled showed clear and strong picture writing, in bright colors. The others gave a simultaneous exclamation, while Mr. Wallace bent his brows in the endeavor to read it.
"Well, it's nothing special," he announced, "merely being scenes from the life of Ta-En-User, with the story of his achievements. I think we'd better roll it up and keep it from the damp now; we can read it later. It'll make something great for your room, Burt! It's mighty few boys that can boast of having a relic like that hanging on their walls!"
"Well, I'm kind o' sorry we're going home," sighed Critch. "Won't this be a great yarn to write up for the school paper, eh, Burt?"
"Nonsense!" said Mr. Wallace sharply. "It's too big a story for that, Critch. Why don't you two chaps get busy and make a book out of it? I'll help you in the stiff places."
"Hurray!" cried Burt.
"Bully!" uttered Critch, delighted. "That's just what we'll do, Mr.Wallace! Say, won't it make a great yarn?"
"An' if you do," put in Captain Mac with a quiet grin, "be sure an' send me a copy o' the thing, laddies! I'd like powerful well to see my name in a story book!"
"You bet we will!" said Burt, and Critch grinned happily.