Un capitaine de quinze ans. English

  CHAPTER XV.

  AN EXCITING CHASE.

  To say the truth, it was the very vaguest of hopes to which Mrs. Weldonhad been clinging, yet it was not without some thrill of disappointmentthat she heard from the lips of old Alvez himself that Dr. Livingstonehad died at a little village on Lake Bangweolo. There had appeared tobe a sort of a link binding her to the civilized world, but it was nowabruptly snapped, and nothing remained for her but to make what termsshe could with the base and heartless Negoro.

  On the 14th, the day appointed for the interview, he made hisappearance at the hut, firmly resolved to make no abatement in theterms that he had proposed, Mrs. Weldon, on her part, being equallydetermined not to yield to the demand.

  "There is only one condition," she avowed, "upon which I willacquiesce. My husband shall not be required to come up the countryhere."

  Negoro hesitated; at length he said that he would agree to her husbandbeing taken by ship to Mossamedes, a small port in the south of Angola,much frequented by slavers, whither also, at a date hereafter to befixed, Alvez should send herself with Jack and Benedict; thestipulation was confirmed that the ransom should be 100,000 dollars,and it was further made part of the contract that Negoro should beallowed to depart as an honest man.

  Mrs. Weldon felt she had gained an important point in thus sparing herhusband the necessity of a journey to Kazonnde, and had noapprehensions about herself on her way to Mossamedes, knowing that itwas to the interest of Alvez and Negoro alike to attend carefully toher wants.

  Upon the terms of the covenant being thus arranged, Mrs. Weldon wrotesuch a letter to her husband as she knew would bring him with all speedto Mossamedes, but she left it entirely to Negoro to represent himselfin whatever light he chose. Once in possession of the document, Negorolost no time in starting on his errand. The very next morning, takingwith him about twenty negroes, he set off towards the north, allegingto Alvez as his motive for taking that direction, that he was not onlygoing to embark somewhere at the mouth of the Congo, but that he wasanxious to keep as far as possible from the prison-houses of thePortuguese, with which already he had been involuntarily only toofamiliar.

  After his departure, Mrs. Weldon resolved to make the best of herperiod of imprisonment, aware that it could hardly be less than fourmonths before he would return. She had no desire to go beyond theprecincts assigned her, even had the privilege been allowed her; butwarned by Negoro that Hercules was still free, and might at any timeattempt a rescue, Alvez had no thought of permitting her anyunnecessary liberty. Her life therefore soon resumed its previousmonotony.

  The daily routine went on within the enclosure pretty much as in otherparts of the town, the women all being employed in various labours forthe benefit of their husbands and masters. The rice was pounded withwooden pestles; the maize was peeled and winnowed, previously toextracting the granulous substance for the drink which they call_mtyelle_; the sorghum had to be gathered in, the season of itsripening being marked by festive observances; there was a fragrant oilto be expressed from a kind of olive named the _mpafoo_; the cotton hadto be spun on spindles, which were hardly less than a foot and a halfin length; there was the bark of trees to be woven into textures forwearing; the manioc had to be dug up, and the cassava procured from itsroots; and besides all this, there was the preparation of the soil forits future plantings, the usual productions of the country being the_moritsane_ beans, growing in pods fifteen inches long upon stemstwenty feet high, the _arachides_, from which they procure aserviceable oil, the _chilobe_ pea, the blossoms of which are used togive a flavour to the insipid sorghum, cucumbers, of which the seedsare roasted as chestnuts, as well as the common crops of coffee, sugar,onions, guavas, and sesame.

  To the women's lot, too, falls the manipulation of all the fermenteddrinks, the _malafoo_, made from bananas, the _pombe_, and variousother liquors. Nor should the care of all the domestic animals beforgotten; the cows that will not allow themselves to be milked unlessthey can see their calf, or a stuffed representative of it; theshort-horned heifers that not unfrequently have a hump; the goats that,like slaves, form part of the currency of the country; the pigs, thesheep, and the poultry.

  The men, meanwhile, smoke their hemp or tobacco, hunt buffaloes orelephants, or are hired by the dealers to join in the slave-raids; theharvest of slaves, in fact, being a thing of as regular and periodicrecurrence as the ingathering of the maize.

  In her daily strolls, Mrs. Weldon would occasionally pause to watch thewomen, but they only responded to her notice by a long stare or by ahideous grimace; a kind of natural instinct made them hate a whiteskin, and they had no spark of commiseration for the stranger who hadbeen brought among them; Halima, however, was a marked exception, shegrew more and more devoted to her mistress, and by degrees, the twobecame able to exchange many sentences in the native dialect.

  Jack generally accompanied his mother. Naturally enough he longed toget outside the enclosure, but still he found considerable amusement inwatching the birds that built in a huge baobab that grew within; therewere maraboos making their nests with twigs; there werescarlet-throated _souimangas_ with nests like weaver-birds; widow birdsthat helped themselves liberally to the thatch of the huts; _calaos_with their tuneful song; grey parrots, with bright red tails, called_roufs_ by the Manyuema, who apply the same name to their reigningchiefs; and insect-eating _drongos_, like grey linnets with large redbeaks. Hundreds of butterflies flitted about, especially in theneighbourhood of the brooks; but these were more to the taste of CousinBenedict than of little Jack; over and over again the child expressedhis regret that he could not see over the walls, and more than ever heseemed to miss his friend Dick, who had taught him to climb a mast, andwho he was sure would have fine fun with him in the branches of thetrees, which were growing sometimes to the height of a hundred feet.

  The insufferable heat had driven all the residentswithin the depot indoors.]

  So long as the supply of insects did not fail, Benedict would have beencontented to stay on without a murmur in his present quarters. True,without his glasses he worked at a disadvantage; but he had had thegood fortune to discover a minute bee that forms its cells in the holesof worm-eaten wood, and a "sphex" that practises the craft of thecuckoo, and deposits its eggs in an abode not prepared by itself.Mosquitos abounded in swarms, and the worthy naturalist was so coveredby their stings as to be hardly recognizable; but when Mrs. Weldonremonstrated with him for exposing himself so unnecessarily, he merelyscratched the irritated places on his skin, and said--

  "It is their instinct, you know; it is their instinct."

  On the 17th of June an adventure happened to him which was attendedwith unexpected consequences. It was about eleven o'clock in themorning. The insufferable heat had driven all the residents within thedepot indoors, and not a native was to be seen in the streets ofKazonnde. Mrs. Weldon was dozing; Jack was fast asleep. Benedicthimself, sorely against his will, for he heard the hum of many aninsect in the sunshine, had been driven to the seclusion of his cabin,and was falling into an involuntary siesta.

  Suddenly a buzz was heard, an insect's wing vibrating some fifteenthousand beats a second!

  "A hexapod!" cried Benedict, sitting up.

  Short-sighted though he was, his hearing was acute, and his perceptionmade him thoroughly convinced that he was in proximity to some giantspecimen of its kind. Without moving from his seat he did his utmost toascertain what it was; he was determined not to flinch from thesharpest of stings if only he could get the chance of capturing it.Presently he made out a large black speck flitting about in the fewrays of daylight that were allowed to penetrate the hut. With batedbreath he waited in eager expectation. The insect, after long hoveringabove him, finally settled on his head. A smile of satisfaction playedabout his lips as he felt it crawling lightly through his hair. Equallyfearful of missing or injuring it, he restrained his first impulse tograsp it in his hand.

  "I will wait a minute," he thought; "perhaps it may creep down my nose;by
squinting a little perhaps I shall be able to see it."

  For some moments hope alternated with fear. There sat Benedict withwhat he persuaded himself was some new African hexapod perched upon hishead, and agitated by doubts as to the direction in which it wouldmove. Instead of travelling in the way he reckoned along his nose,might it not crawl behind his ears or down his neck, or, worse thanall, resume its flight in the air?

  Fortune seemed inclined to favour him. After threading the entanglementof the naturalist's hair the insect was felt to be descending hisforehead. With a fortitude not unworthy of the Spartan who suffered hisbreast to be gnawed by a fox, nor of the Roman hero who plunged hishand into the red-hot coals, Benedict endured the tickling of the sixsmall feet, and made not a motion that might frighten the creature intotaking wing. After making repeated circuits of his forehead, it passedjust between his eyebrows; there was a moment of deep suspense lest itshould once more go upwards; but it soon began to move again; neitherto the right nor to the left did it turn, but kept straight on over thefurrows made by the constant rubbing of the spectacles, right along thearch of the cartilage till it reached the extreme tip of the nose. Likea couple of movable lenses, Benedict's two eyes steadily turnedthemselves inwards till they were directed to the proper point.

  Before long the old black speck was again flitting justabove his head. _Page_ 432.]

  "Good!" he whispered to himself.

  He was exulting at the discovery that what he had been waiting for sopatiently was a rare specimen of the tribe of the Cicindelidae, peculiarto the districts of Southern Africa.

  "A tuberous manticora!" he exclaimed.

  The insect began to move again, and as it crawled down to the entranceof the nostrils the tickling sensation became too much for endurance,and Benedict sneezed. He made a sudden clutch, but of course he onlycaught his own nose. His vexation was very great, but he did not losehis composure; he knew that the manticora rarely flies very high, andthat more frequently than not it simply crawls. Accordingly he gropedabout a long time on his hands and knees, and at last he found itbasking in a ray of sunshine within a foot of him. His resolution wassoon taken. He would not run the risk of crushing it by trying to catchit, but would make his observations on it as it crawled; and so withhis nose close to the ground, like a dog upon the scent, he followed iton all fours, admiring it and examining it as it moved. Regardless ofthe heat he not only left the doorway of his hut, but continuedcreeping along till he reached the enclosing palisade.

  At the foot of the fence the manticora, according to the habits of itskind, began to seek a subterranean retreat, and coming to the openingof a mole-track entered it at once. Benedict quite thought he had nowlost sight of his prize altogether, but his surprise was very greatwhen he found that the aperture was at least two feet wide, and that itled into a gallery which would admit his whole body. His momentaryfeeling of astonishment, however, gave way to his eagerness to followup the hexapod, and he continued burrowing like a ferret.

  Without knowing it, he actually passed under the palisading, and wasnow beyond it;--the mole-track, in fact, was a communication that hadbeen made between the interior and exterior of the enclosure. Benedicthad obtained his freedom, but so far from caring in the least for hisliberty he continued totally absorbed in the pursuit upon which he hadstarted. He watched with unflagging vigilance, and it was only when thehexapod expanded its wings as if for flight that he prepared toimprison it in the hollow of his hand.

  All at once, however, he was taken by surprise; a whizz and a whirr andthe prize was gone!

  Disappointed rather than despairing, Benedict raised himself up, andlooked about him. Before long the old black speck was again flittingjust above his head. There was every reason to hope that it wouldultimately settle once more upon the ground, but on this side of thepalisade there was a large forest a little way to the north, and if themanticora were to get into its mass of foliage all hope of keeping itin view would be lost, and there would be an end of the proudexpectation of storing it in the tin box, to be preserved among therest of the entomological wonders.

  After a while the insect descended to the earth; it did not rest atall, nor crawl as it had done previously, but made its advance by aseries of rapid hops. This made the chase for the near-sightednaturalist a matter of great difficulty; he put his face as close tothe ground as possible, and kept starting off and stopping and startingoff again with his arms extended like a swimming frog, continuallymaking frantic clutches to find as continually that his grasp had beeneluded.

  After running till he was out of breath, and scratching his handsagainst the brushwood and the foliage till they bled, he had themortification of feeling the insect dash past his ear with what mightbe a defiant buzz, and finding that it was out of sight for ever.

  "Ungrateful hexapod!" he cried in dismay, "I intended to honour youwith the best place in my collection."

  For that day at least Cousin Benedict had lost hischance of being the happiest of entomologists. _Page 435._]

  He knew not what to do, and could not reconcile himself to the loss; hereproached himself for not having secured the manticora at the first;he gazed at the forest till he persuaded himself he could see thecoveted insect in the distance, and, seized with a frantic impulse,exclaimed,--

  "I will have you yet!"

  He did not even yet realize the fact that he had gained his liberty,but heedless of everything except his own burning disappointment, andat the risk of being attacked by natives or beset by wild beasts, hewas just on the very point of dashing into the heart of the wood whensuddenly a giant form confronted him, as suddenly a giant hand seizedhim by the nape of his neck, and, lifting him up, carried him off withapparently as little exertion as he could himself have carried off hishexapod!

  For that day at least Cousin Benedict had lost his chance of being thehappiest of entomologists.