CHAPTER XVIII
Reeves's Ruse
ALL the rest of the day the little crew took turns to row their craftdownstream. Although there was no wind, and the heat made theirexertions doubly hard, the current aided them considerably, its ratebeing about two miles per hour when once the river contracted. On thelake there was no appreciable drift, a circumstance that gave Reevesthe liveliest satisfaction, since he had good reason to believe thatno rapids would be met with for some considerable distance.
Just before sunset they anchored the boat in midstream by means ofthe long rope, tied fast to a heavy stone. Having made sure thattheir improvised anchor was not dragging, all hands set to to rig theawning for the night, fixing it so that it made a ridge tent insteadof the flat surface that had served to keep off the rays of the sun.
As far as they could see, there were no signs of human inhabitants.The dense subtropical forests on either hand were teeming with animallife, gaudily-coloured birds predominating. The water, too, aboundedwith fish, which snapped eagerly at a bit of cotton cloth wrappedround a bent wire that Hugh employed as a fishing hook.
In a few minutes a dozen good-sized fish were floundering about onthe bottom of the boat; but, fearful lest some of these should bepoisonous, Reeves threw them all overboard, with the exception ofthree resembling dace, only much larger. These were cooked over afire made upon a large flat stone, which had apparently been used fora similar purpose before, and were pronounced excellent.
Throughout the night, watches were set, this precaution being deemednecessary in spite of the isolated position of their floating camp;but, beyond the constant noise of the animal life in the forests,nothing occurred to disturb the slumbers of those of the crew whowere not keeping a long and tedious vigil.
At sunrise all hands had a bathe, since there was no likely danger ofbeing seized by crocodiles. The water was perfectly clear, and,greatly refreshed, the little party attacked their plain but by nomeans scanty breakfast.
While this was in progress, Reeves suddenly signed to his companionsto keep silent, and, seizing his musket, took aim beneath the awning.Standing on the bank, at quite a hundred yards' distance, was a tall,graceful animal somewhat resembling the spring-bok of the Karroos.The creature seemed to have no fear, or, if it had, curiosity got thebetter of it, for it remained motionless, looking intently at theunusual sight of a boat upon the practically deserted river.
Reeves pressed the trigger, but the gun missfired. The animalinclined its head slightly at the sound, but did not attempt to boundaway. The correspondent's second essay was successful, and with aquick, convulsive leap the creature fell dead.
"It seems almost a pity to shoot such a confiding sort of animal,"said Gerald, as they prepared to heave up anchor and row ashore fortheir spoil.
"It does," assented Reeves. "I should not have done so, only thatstern necessity demands it. We must have food, and not neglect anyopportunity. If this river traverses a desert, we should be short ofprovisions before we were out of it unless we replenished our scantylarder."
The slaughtered animal was soon cut up, the best portions being takenon board and, with the exception of a piece of hind quarter, whichwas reserved for dinner, salted down. This done, the awning wasadapted for its daily purpose, and the voyage resumed.
For five days the boat passed between the dense forests on eitherhand, halts being made at each midday for the purpose of allowing thetravellers to stretch their legs ashore, in addition to the nightlyrests in midstream. But on the sixth day the forests were leftbehind; then followed a vast extent of plain, in which the vegetationgradually yet regularly decreased until it assumed the appearance ofthorns and scrub.
"We are verging on another desert, I'm afraid," said Reeves."Luckily, the river shows no signs of decreasing in volume, so Ithink we can rely on its not losing itself in the sand."
About three hours after sunrise a welcome breeze dead astern sprangup, enabling the travellers to set the awning as a sail. Theadvantages of being able to dispense with the use of oars werequickly appreciated by the crew, who could now sit at ease, the boatbeing kept on her course by means of an occasional dip with the oarthat served as a rudder.
"This is great!" exclaimed Hugh, as the boat, with wind and current,ran past the banks at a good six miles an hour. "A few days like thiswould mean a lot."
"We've much to be thankful for," said Reeves; "but, at the same time,if only I had something to smoke----"
He was interrupted by Gerald pointing to the right bank of the river.Standing on the rising ground that cut the skyline was an Arab,dressed in white, with a long gun slung across his back. The man wasshading his eyes and looking intently at the strange sight of a boat,and the still stranger sight of a boat with a sail.
"By Jove, that's awkward!" muttered Reeves. "Don't take any notice. Ihope the fellow's alone."
As he spoke, the Bedouin mounted his hierie, turned, and droppedbehind the bank. A few minutes later came the dull report of amusket.
"He's up to mischief--that's to bring up the other cutthroats!"said Reeves. "Sling that bag of flour between the seats, and see tothe priming of the muskets. I don't want to use force unless it isabsolutely necessary."
The simple preparations for putting the boat in a state of defencewere soon completed, Reeves steering well towards the left bank so asto place as great a distance as possible betwixt them and thethreatened attack.
"That is as much as I dare do; we're in only five feet of water," heremarked. "I hope that it won't shoal, for if we ran aground going atthis rate it might be very serious for us."
Nothing remained but to keep a bright lookout, and in a silencebroken only by the swish of the bluff bow as it forced its waythrough the water the three Englishmen awaited events.
"There's someone's head!" exclaimed Hugh, as a white _burnous_appeared above the bank. "And another--a regular swarm of them!"
Barely a hundred and fifty yards away a dozen Arabs sprang up, wavingtheir long-barrelled muskets and shouting to the strangers to stop.
"Sorry we can't--for your sakes," said Reeves grimly, under hisbreath; then, to the lads: "Lie down behind the sack; those gentrymean mischief."
A GOOD SHOT]
A shot whistled over the boat, followed by an irregular volley; then,setting their camels at a steady pace, the Arabs kept up with theboat, reloading their cumbersome weapons as they went.
"If they don't do better than that, we needn't worry," said Reeves,who was sitting aft, and imperturbably grasping the steering oar."But keep down, you fellows; they may make a fluke and score acannon."
Almost the next shot cut a long gash in the sail, while anotherknocked chips off the gunwale.
"This won't do," exclaimed Reeves. "Gerald, come aft for half aminute and steer. Don't show yourself too much."
Kneeling on the bottom boards, the correspondent took careful aimwith his musket, and a camel promptly dropped, throwing its riderheadlong upon the sand.
"One!" said the marksman calmly. "Hand me your musket, Hugh."
The next shot was also successful, bringing down the Arab who haddiscovered the boat. With that the rest turned and disappeared behindthe sandhills.
"I hope that's sent them about their business," said Reeves, as hereloaded the flintlock. "Gerald, you're fairly light; swarm up themast and say if you can see anything of them."
"They are riding as hard as they can in the same direction as we aretaking," announced the lad from his swaying perch.
"All right; come down," replied Reeves. "They are going to ambush us,I fear."
Ten minutes later a rattle of musketry burst from the scrub on thebank, most of the bullets flying high or striking the water. Two,however, ricochetting, buried themselves in the boat's stout timbers.Without showing themselves, the Arabs disappeared, to take up a freshposition lower downstream.
"That's beastly annoying!" remarked Hugh. "If they carry plenty ofprovisions they may keep this game up for days."
"I thought all th
e Arabs went eastwards after the repulse at thebreach?" said Gerald.
"These may be a few stragglers--I hope they are," rejoined Reeves."We don't want to drift into a whole tribe of them. To-night I'll tryto trick them. Fortunately there's no moon."
The breeze held throughout the day, but, in spite of the rapid andconstant speed of the boat, the Bedouins hung on doggedly, firingfrom cover as quickly as they could. Little damage was done, however,beyond a few holes through the top strakes and splinters from themast and gunwales.
As night came on, the wind showed signs of dropping.
"Are you going to bring up for the night?" asked Gerald of Reeves,who had relinquished the helm and was busily engaged in unstranding apiece of rope and encasing it in tallow from the animal they hadshot.
"Rather; that's part of my ruse. The wind's falling very light, andour progress will soon be only that of the current, unless we row,and that will be too risky."
Directly it grew thoroughly dark, Reeves lit one of his improvisedcandles, which burned steadily in the almost still air. Itsappearance was greeted by a shower of bullets from the indefatigableenemy on the bank.
"Stand by with the anchor, Gerald," said the correspondent. "Don'tmake more noise than you can possibly help. When I say 'let go',lower the stone as softly as you can."
"All ready!" announced Gerald from the bow of the boat.
Meanwhile the director of operations had wrenched up one of thebottom boards, and, lighting a second candle, stuck it firmly in thecentre of the plank. Then, carefully screening the light, he droppedthe piece of timber over the side of the boat away from the bank fromwhich the Arabs were firing.
"Let go," he whispered, blowing out the first light.
The rough-and-ready anchor brought the boat round head to current,while the board, with its candle burning dimly, drifted downstream,the mark for nearly a dozen muskets.
"Now they can waste powder and shot as much as they jolly wellplease," exclaimed Reeves, as the sound of the firing grew fainterand fainter. "Luckily there are no King's prizemen amongst them, andfifty to one they won't shift that candle at a hundred yards."
The night passed without interruption, and daylight revealed no signof the Arabs.
"I hope they potted that candle after all," said Gerald.
"Why, young wiseacre?" asked Reeves, laughing.
"Because if they did, they might imagine that they sank the boat, andwould not trouble us further. If they find the plank at daybreak theywill see through our little game and come back to look for us."
"That's one to you, by George!" exclaimed the correspondent. "I wishwe had lowered the sail and rowed downstream, leaving the lightbehind us. But in any case it's too late now, and the fact remainsthat we have put the Arabs between us and our destination."
"Unless they've gone inland," added Hugh.
"Which I hope they have done," concluded Reeves.
Once more the favouring breeze had sprung up, and with the sailbellying out before the wind the boat resumed its course. Ten mileswere reeled off in quick time, and the crew were beginning tocongratulate themselves upon the success of their ruse when the nowfamiliar sound of bullets whizzing about their ears told them thatthe respite had been but temporary.
There was something satisfactory, however, besides the waste ofammunition. The firing told Reeves that the Arabs had not increasedin number, though their persistency began to cause him freshuneasiness. Was it likely that the Bedouins would continue theirapparently fruitless pursuit if they had no possible chance ofsuccess?