CHAPTER TWELVE
"MANY THAT ARE FIRST SHALL BE LAST; AND THE LAST FIRST--"
When the last of the luck has deserted and the least of the chances has waned, When there's nowhere to run to and even the pluck in the smile that you carry is feigned; When grimmer than yesterday's horror to-morrow dawns hungry and cold, And your faith in the coming unknown is denied in regret for the known and the old, Then you're facing, my son, what the Fathers from Abraham down to to-day Have looked on alone, and stood up to alone, and each in his several way O'ercame (or he shouldn't be Father). So ye shall o'ercome: while ye live, Though ye've nothing but breath and good-will to your name ye must stand to it naked, and give!
Ye shall learn in that hour that the plunder ye won by profession is nought-- And false was the aim ye aspired with--and dross was the glamour ye sought-- The codes and the creeds that ye cherished were shadows of clouds in the wind, (And ye can not recall for their counsel lost leaders ye dallied behind!) Ye shall stand in that hour and discover by agony's guttering flame How the fruits of self-will, and the lees of ambition and bitterness all are the same, Until, stripped of desire, ye shall know that was death. Then the proof that ye live Shall be knowledge new-born that the naked--the fools and the felons, can give!
Then the suns and the stars in their courses shall speedily swing to your aid, And nothing shall hinder you further, and nothing shall make you afraid, For the veriest edges of evil shall challenge your joy, and no more, And room for the right shall shine clear in your vision where wrong was before. Then the stones in the road shall be restful that used to be traps for your feet, Then the crowd shall be kind that was cruel before, and your solitude sweet That was want to be gloomy aforetime and gray--when the proof that ye live Is no longer the pain of desire, but the will--and the wit--and the vision, to give!
The canoes were the usual crazy affairs, longer and rather wider thanthe average. The bottom portion of each was made from a tree-trunk,hollowed out by burning, and chipped very roughly into shape. Thesides were laboriously hewn planks, stitched into place with threadmade from papyrus.
Some of the men left behind were our personal servants. Counting themand Kazimoto, there were twenty natives remaining with us, making, withthe four men lent us by the chief, an allowance of twelve to eachcanoe. If we had had loads as well it would have been a problem how toget the whole party away; but as Lady Saffren Waldon had left usnothing but three cooking-pots, we just contrived to crowd the last manin without passing the danger point, Fred taking charge of the firstcanoe with Brown of Lumbwa and Kazimoto, and leaving Coutlass with theother canoe to Will and me. We agreed it was most convenient to keepthe Greek and the rifle separated by a stretch of water.
There is one inevitable, invariable way of starting on a journey bycanoe in Africa. Somebody pushes off. The naked paddlers, seated atintervals down either side, strain their toes against a thwart or arib. The leading paddler yells, and off you go with a swing and arhythmic thunder as they all bring their paddles hard against theboat's side at the end of each stroke. Fifty--sixty--seventy--perhaps ahundred strokes they take at top speed, and the passenger settles downto enjoy himself, for there is no more captivating motion in the world.Then suddenly they stop, and all begin arguing at top of their lungs.Unless the passenger is a man of swift decision and firm purpose thereis frequently a fight at that stage, likely to end in overturned canoesand an adventure among the crocodiles.
Our voyage broke no precedents. We started off in fine style, feelinglike old-time emperors traveling in state; and within ten minutes wewere using paddles ourselves to poke and beat our men intounderstanding of the laws of balance, they abusing one another whilethe canoes rocked and took in water through the loosely laid on planks.
The fiber stitching began to give out very soon after that, becausewhen not in use the canoes were always hauled out somewhere and thedried-out fiber cracked and broke. We had all to sit to one side whilesome one restitched the planking. Later, when a wind came up and thequick short sea arose peculiar to lakes, we were very glad we had donethat job so early.
It was only the first mile that as much as suggested enjoyment. Neveraccustomed to much paddling in any case, our own men had suffered fromhunger and confinement in the reeking hot dhow. Then, hippo meat needshours of cooking to be wholesome (our own share of it was still in thepot, waiting to be boiled more thoroughly at the next halting place).They had merely toasted their tough lumps in the camp-fire embers andgobbled it. The result was a craving for sleep, noisily seconded bythe chief's four men, who had eaten the stuff without cooking at all,and in enormous quantities.
We began with a keen determination to overhaul the dhow, that dwindledas we had time to think the matter over; wondering what we should dowith two such women in case we should capture them, and how we shouldprevent Coutlass in that case from acting like a savage.
"Why don't we leave 'em to make their own explanations?" I proposed atlast. "We can claim our few belongings at any time if we see fit."But the suggestion took time to recommend itself.
That night until nearly morning we fretted at every rest the paddlerstook--drove them unmercifully--ran risks of overturning on the slipperyshoulders of partly submerged rocks--took long turns ourselves torelieve the weary men, Coutlass working harder than the rest of us. Itwould have been a bad night's work if we had overhauled the dhow andloosed him to do his will.
"Think of the baggage!" he kept shouting to the night at large. "Lyingin the arms of Georges Coutlass, kissing and being kissed, simply torob him--Coutlass--me! Think of it! Only think of it. She lay in thehook of my right arm and only thought of how to win back the favor ofthe other she-hellion! And I was deceived by such a cabbage! Waitthough! Nobody ever turned a trick on Georges Coutlass more than once!Wait till we catch them! See what I do to them! I don't forgetKamarajes either, or that bastard de Sousa, also pretending they werefriends of mine! Heiah! Hurry! Drive the paddles in, you lazy blackmen!"
It was more his hunger for revenge than any other one thing that tippedthe scales of indecision and called us off the chase. A little beforemorning, at about that darkest hour, when the stars have seen thecoming sun but the world is not yet aware of it, Fred called to us toturn in toward a barren-looking hill of granite that rose almost sheerout of the water but at one corner offered a shelving landing place.There we all clambered out to stretch cramped muscles and make a fireto cook the hippo's tongue, Coutlass cursing us for letting what hecalled idleness come between us and revenge.
Kazimoto had scarcely more than gathered an armful of wood, thrown itdown, and gone to hunt for more; one of the other boys had struck amatch, and the first little flicker of crimson fire and purple smokewas starting to curl skyward, when Fred jumped on it and stamped it out.
"Silence!" he ordered. "Keep still every one!" and repeated it twicein Kiswahili for the natives' benefit.
We could not see at first which way he was staring through thedarkness. It was more than two minutes before I knew what had alarmedhim, and then it was sound, not sight that gave me the first clue.There came a purring from the lake; and when I had searched for aminute for the source of it I saw the glow we had watched from the dhowin the storm the first night out--the telltale crimson stain on thedark that rides above a steamer's funnel, and at intervals a stream ofsparks to prove they were burning wood and driving her at top speed.
"It can't be the German launch," said I.
"Why not?" demanded Fred irritably. He knew I knew it was the Germanlaunch as certainly as he did.
"How can they have patched her boiler?" I asked.
"How many beans make five? They've done it, and there she goes! Noother launch on the lake can make that speed! I've heard the Britishrailway people have a launch or two, but they're small enough to havetraveled down the line on ordinary trucks. That's the German launchand Schill
ingschen as surely as we stand here!"
We waited there until dawn, arguing at intervals, not daring to light afire, nor caring to sleep, Coutlass sitting apart and laughing everynow and then like a hyena.
"If the men weren't so dead beat I'd be for carrying on, said Fred.
"What's the use?" argued Brown. "We can't catch the bally launch, canwe? Soon as it's daylight they'd see us, like as not. I hope to getdrunk once more before I die! Schillingschen 'ud run us down, an'good-by us!"
"I'd say follow them if the men could make it," Will agreed. "Butwhat's the odds? It's us they're after. They'll dare do nothing tothe women on the dhow--in British waters."
"That's so," I agreed, not believing a word of it, any more than they.One had to calm one's feelings somehow; the men were too weary todrive the canoes another mile at anything like speed. Coutlass, whohad heard every word of the argument, burst out into such yells oflaughter that Fred threw a rock at him. "Curse you, you ghoul!"
Coutlass changed his tone from demoniacal delight to quieter, grimamusement.
"They will do nothing, eh? It is I, Georges Coutlass, who need donothing! I have my revenge by proxy! Wait and see!"
Fred threw a second rock, and hit him squarely.
"Gassharamminy!" swore the Greek. "Do you know that rock is harderthan a man's head?"
Fred let the boys light a fire when the sun had risen high enough tomake the little blaze not noticeable. Most of the men were asleep, butthough our eyes ached with the long vigil we could not have copiedthem. About three hours after daylight we breakfasted off slices ofhot boiled hippo tongue and cold lake water, without salt or condimentsof any kind, and with discontent increased by that unpleasing feast wearoused the boys and drove them into the canoes.
We forced the pace again, and picked up smoke on the sky-line an hourbefore noon, but it was not from a steamer's funnel. It was lazy,flat-flowing, spreading smoke with a look of iniquity about it thatsent our hearts to our mouths. We paddled toward it with frenziedenergy, and long before any of us could make out details Coutlass,standing balancing himself amidships, told us what we knew was true andflatly refused to believe.
"It's the Queen of Sheba burning to the water-line!"
"Sit down, you fool, or you'll upset us!"
"She's gutted already--the flame is about finished! nothing now butsmoke!"
"Sit down, you lying idiot, and hold your tongue!"
"I can see the smoke of the German launch now! Don't you all see it?Straight ahead beyond the smoke of the dhow! They've burned the dhowand steamed away! I'll bet you a million pounds they've killedeverybody--shot 'em, or burned 'em alive, or drowned 'em!"
"Did you hear me tell you to sit down? I'll tip you overboard and makeyou swim for shore--d'ye see those crocodiles? Ugh! Look at thebrutes! In you go among the crocks if you don't sit down at once!"
Coutlass took no notice of the threat, but rocked the canoe recklesslyas he stood on tiptoe.
"Think of their gall! By Bacchus, they're steaming for British East!I bet you five million pounds to a kick they think they've drowned thelot of us! They're going to steam in and report the accident!"
We got him to sit down at last by ordering the paddlers nearest him tothrow him overboard, but nothing would stop his evil croaking any morethan flat refusal to admit the truth of what he gloated over lessenedour real conviction.
Long before we reached the dhow there was no room left for unbelief.The stern planks were charred, but stood erect, unburned yet, and theblue and white paint smeared on them was surely that of the Queen ofSheba. When we came within fifty yards the water was full of loathsomereptiles; our paddles actually struck them as they swarmed after theprey, snapping at one another and at our canoes--long, slimy-lookingmonsters, as able to smell carrion in the distance as kites are to see.
There were garments on the water--blankets--and one soaked, torn, lacything that certainly had been a woman's. More than a dozen crocodilesfought around that. We tried to go close enough to see whether therewere dead bodies in the dhow's charred hull, but as if the very ripplefrom our paddles were the last straw, the wreck dipped suddenly tenfeet from us and plunged, the crocodiles following it down into deepwater with lashing tails--swifter than fish.
We paddled about for an hour in the blistering sun, searching stupidlyfor what we knew we could never find; crocodiles remove traces ofidentity more swiftly than kites and crows.
"I'll bet you they thought we were on board!" gleed Coutlass. "I'llbet you they opened fire, and when we didn't answer came to theconclusion we had no ammunition. Then they steamed close enough tothrow kerosene on board and light it! I bet you they steamed round andround and watched the people jump as the flames drove them overboard!Or d'you think they shot them all, and then threw them overboard andfired the dhow? No--then they'd have known we weren't on the dhow;they'd have steamed back then to find us; they thought we were in thedhow! They thought we were hiding below deck! They're going toBritish East to take their Bible oaths they saw us burn and drown!Isn't that a joke! Isn't that a good one! Gassharamminy! But I'dgive my hope of heaven to know whether they shot the women first orwatched them jump among the crocodiles when the heat grew fierce!"
We paddled to another rocky island--one that had trees on it, andrested through the heat of the day when we had killed all the snakesthat had forestalled us in the shade. There, after again eatinghippo-tongue unseasoned and ungarnished, we held a council of war, andFred produced the map that Rebecca stole from Coutlass.
"If we make for a township now--Kisumu is the nearest--about five andtwenty miles away," said Fred, "we can give ourselves the pleasure ofsurprising Schillingschen, and of course we can get a square meal andsome clothes and soap and so on--incidentally perhaps some rifles andammunition. But we can't prove a thing against Schillingschen, and hehas enough pull with British officials to make things deuced unpleasantfor us, for a time at least. Consider the other side of it. Supposewe don't make for a station. Schillingschen reports us dead. Nobodylooks for us--unless perhaps out on the lake for a hat or some scrap ofclothing by way of corroborative evidence. Suppose we paddle out ofthis gulf and take to shore somewhere along the north end of the lake.We've no food, no tents, only one gun, next to no ammunition, nothingbut money and a purpose. We don't know what chance we have of gettingsupplies, and particularly rifles, without letting any one know wherewe are, but we do know we've a clear field and a straight mark forElgon, where rumor says--and Courtney said--and Schillingschenthinks--and this map says the ivory ought to be! The odds are againstus--climate--starvation--wild beasts--savages--last and not least, thegovernment, if they ever get wind of our being beyond bounds. Are wewilling to take the chance, or are we not?"
We talked it over for an hour, Coutlass listening all ears to most ofwhat we said, although we drove him to the farthest limit of the shadetrees. We were in two minds whether or not it mattered if he listened,and made the usual two-minds hash of it. Finally we put it to a vote,letting Brown have a voice with the rest of us. He was in favor ofanything that offered prospect of a gamble; and we remembered theletter in code we had given the missionary to mail to Monty. We hadtold him in that that we should make tracks for Elgon, and we all votedthe same way.
"In other words" grinned Fred, "we're perfect idiots, and ready andwilling to prove it! Good! If you fellows had voted the other way I'dhave gone forward to Elgon alone!"
It was then that Georges Coutlass took a hand in the game again. Hecame striding through the trees with something of his old swagger, andsat down among us with an air.
"Count me in!" he demanded.
"D'you mean in the lake?" suggested Fred.
"In on the trip to Mount Elgon!"
"We've had nearly enough of you!" Fred answered. "I know what'scoming! If you don't come with us you'll tell tales? Blackmail, eh?Well, it won't work! We'll set you ashore on the mainland, and if youdare show yourself to Schillingschen or any British
official, we'll runthat risk cheerfully!"
But Coutlass was imperturbable for once. He laid a hand on Fred'sknee, and changed his tone to one of gentle persuasion between friendand friend.
"Ah! Mr. Oakes, I know you now too well! You are not the man to leaveme in the lurch! These others perhaps! You never! You know me, too.You have seen me under all conditions. You are able to judge mycharacter. You know how firm a friend I can be, as well as how savagean enemy! You know I would never be false to a friend such as you--toa man whom I admire as I do you!"
Will Yerkes, who had tried to keep a straight face, now went off intopeals of laughter, rolling over on his back and rocking his legs in theair--a performance that did not appear to discourage Coutlass in theleast. Brown was far from amused. He advised throwing the Greek intothe lake.
"Remember those cattle o' mine!" he insisted.
"Yes!" agreed Coutlass. "Remember those cattle! Consider what a manof quick decision and courage I am! How useful I can be! What aforager! What a guide! What a fighting man! What a hunter! What aliar on behalf of my friends! What a danger for my friends' enemies!What are the cattle of a drunkard like Brown--the poor unhappysot!--compared to the momentary needs of a gentleman! Ah! By theordeal! I am a gentleman, and that is the secret of it all! You, Mr.Oakes, as one brave gentleman, can not despise the right hand offriendship of Georges Coutlass, another gentleman! I know you can not!You haven't it in you! You were born under another star than that! Ihave confidence! I sit contented!"
"You good-for-nothing villain!" Fred grinned. "I'll take you at yourword!" and Brown of Lumbwa gasped, the very hairs of his red beardbristling.
"I knew you would!" said Coutlass calmly. "These others are notgentlemen. They do not understand."
"If your word is good for anything," Fred continued.
"My word is my bond!" said the Greek.
"And you really want to prove yourself my friend--"
"I would go to hell for you and bring you back the devil's favoritewife!"
"I will set you on the mainland, to go and recover those cattle of Mr.Brown's from the Masai who raided them! Return them to Lumbwa, andI'll guarantee Brown shall shake hands with you!"
"Pah! Brown! That drunkard!"
"See here!" said Brown, getting up and peeling off his coat. "I've hadenough of being called drunkard by you. Put up your dukes!"
But a fight between Brown and the Greek with bare fists would have beenlittle short of murder. Brown was in no condition to thrash that wirycustomer, and we in no mood to see Coutlass get the better of him.
"Don't be a fool, Brown! Sit down!" ordered Fred, and having saved hisface Brown condescended readily enough.
"What you said's right," he admitted. "Let him get my cattle backafore he's fit to fight a gentleman!"
And so the matter was left for the present, with Georges Coutlass undersentence of abandonment to his own devices as soon as we could do thatwithout entailing his starvation. We had no right to have pity for therascal; he had no claim whatever on our generosity; yet I think evenBrown would not have consented to deserting him on any of those barrenislands, whatever the risk of his spoiling our plans as soon as weshould let him out of sight.
From then until we beached the canoes at last in a gap in the papyruson the lake's northern shore, we pressed forward like hunted men. Forone thing, the very thought of boiled meat without bread, salt, orvegetables grew detestable even to the natives after the second orthird meal, although hippo tongue is good food. We tried green stuffgathered on the islands, but it proved either bitter or elsenauseating, and although our boys gathered bark and roots that theysaid were fit for food, it was noticeable that they did not eat much ofit themselves. The simplest course was to race for the shore with aslittle rest and as little sleep as the men could do with.
However, we were not noticeably better off when we first set foot onshore. There was nothing but short grass growing on the thin soil thatonly partly hid the volcanic rock and manganese iron ore. VictoriaNyanza is the crater of a once enormous, long ago extinct volcano, andwe stood on a shelf of rock about a thousand feet below what had beenthe upper rim--a chain of mountains leading away toward the northhigher and higher, until they culminated in Mount Elgon, anotherextinct volcano fourteen thousand feet above sea level.
It was not unexplored land where we stood, but it was so little knownthat the existence of white men was said to be a matter of some doubtamong natives a mile or two to either side of the old safari route thatpassed from east to west. We could see no villages, although wemarched for hours, the loaned canoe-men tagging along behind us,hungrier than we, until at last over the back of a long low spur wespied the tops of growing kaffir corn.
At sight of that we broke into a run and burst on the field of grainlike a pack of the dog-baboons that swoop from the hills and makehavoc. We seized the heads of grain, rubbed them between our hands,and had munched our fill before we were seen by the jealous owners. Asmall boy herding hump-backed cattle down in the valley watched us fora minute, and then deserted his charge to report to the village hiddenbehind a clump of trees. Ten minutes after that we were surrounded bynaked black giants, all armed with spears and a personal smell thatoutstank one's notions of Gehenna.
We had nothing to offer them, except money, for which they obviouslyhad not the slightest use. None of us knew their language. From theirpoint of view we were thieves taken in the act, all but one of usunarmed as far as they knew, to be judged by the tribal standard thatfor more centuries than men remember has decreed that the thief shalldie. They were most incensed at the four unhappy islanders, probablyon the same principle that dogs pick on the weakest, and fight mostreadily with dogs of a more or less similar breed.
It was Coutlass who saved that situation. He instantly went crazy, orthe next thing to it, wrinkling up his black-whiskered face into acaricature, yelling a Greek monologue in a refrain consisting of fivenotes repeated over and over, and dancing around in a wide ring withone leg shorter than the other and his arms executing symbols ofwitchcraft.
The chief was the biggest man--not an inch less than seven feet--blackas ebony, from the curly hair, into which his patient wives had plaitedfiber to hang in a greasy lump over his neck, all down his naked bodyto the soles of his enormous feet. Each time he came in front of thatindividual Coutlass paused and executed special finger movements, likethe trills of a super-pianist, ending invariably in a punctuation pointthat made the savage shiver.
The fifth time round, to avoid the accusing fingers, the giant dodgedbehind a smaller man, who dodged behind a woman, who promptly turnedand ran, swinging in the wind behind her a bustle like a horse's tailthat was her only garment. Her flight was the touch that settled thedecision in our favor. We all began to do a mumbo-jumbo dance aroundCoutlass, and in five seconds more the whole armed party was in fullretreat, holding their spears behind them as some sort of protectionagainst magic.
"After that," said Coutlass proudly, "will you still dismiss me fromyour party, gentlemen?"
"You've got to go and find Brown's cattle and return them to him!" Fredanswered firmly. But we none of us felt like sending him packing untilhe was better fed and some provision could be made for his safety onthe road. It was wonderful, the number of excuses that flocked throughmy mind for befriending the ruffian, and later on I found it was thesame with Fred and Will. Brown, on the other hand, affectedindignation at his being allowed to go with us another yard.
"Make a rope o' grass an' hang the swine!" he grumbled.
We decided to march on the village, retreat being obviously far toodangerous, and the only likely safe course being to follow up thechance success. Sleep another night in the open among the mosquitoesand wild beasts, besides making us wretched at the mere suggestion, waslikely to bring us all down with fever. We preferred the thought offever to the loneliness; for man is unlike all other nomads, and thatis why the dog takes kindly to him; he must have a home of his own-
-aportable one, if you will--a tub like Diogenes--a Bedouin's tent--acave, or a hole in the ground--something, so be he may rent it or ownit or know for a fact he may sleep there when night comes. Life in theopen is only good fun when there is cover to take to at will.
All the way along the winding foot-track leading in every imaginabledirection except toward the village, and only turning suddenly towardit when we had grown disgusted and decided to leave it and try to findanother, Brown kept pointing out trees with suitable overhanging armsto which we might hang Coutlass. The Greek, with eyes for nothing butthe fat, hump-backed village cattle in the distance, seemed to thinkonly of them, until Will commented on the fact, and Fred saw fit todrop a hint.
"Steal as much as a young calf, Coutlass, and we'll let Brown choosethe tree! Try it on if you don't believe me!"
The villagers closed their gate against us by dragging great piles ofthorn across the gap in the rough palisade, but, as Coutlass pointedout, they would have to open it up again to let the cattle in beforedark, so we sat down and ate the remaining fragments of the hippotongue--no ambrosia by that time; it had to be eaten, to save it fromutter waste!
Then Coutlass once more did a first-class devil dance backward andforward this time before the gate, putting genius into it and fear intothe hearts of the defenders. Kazimoto helped even more than he bydiscovering a native within the palisade who could speak a commontongue.
Their villagers held a very noisy council on their side of the thornobstruction, under the apparent impression that it was sound- andbullet-proof. It was beginning to be pretty obvious that a man whoadvised volleying through the crevices with spears was winning theargument when Kazimoto detected familiar accents and raised his voice.After that the barricade was dragged aside within ten minutes and weentered, if not in honor, at least in temporary safety.
Luxury is a question of contrast. That evening in a hut assigned to usby the chief, squatting on the trodden cow-dung floor, leaning againstthe dried-mud sides, with a little fire of sticks in the midst to giveus light and keep mosquitoes at a distance at the expense of almostunbearable heat, we ate porridge made from mtama as they call theirkaffir corn, and washed it down with milk--good rich cows' milk, milkedby Kazimoto into our own metal pot instead of their unwashed gourds.Lucullus never dined better.
The feast was only rather spoiled by two things: we all had chiggersin our feet--the minute fleas that haunt the dust of native villagesand insert themselves under toe-nails to grow great and lay their eggs.(Nearly every native in the village had more than one toe missing.)And the chief felt obliged to insert his smelly presence among us andask innumerable idiotic questions through the medium of his interpreterand Kazimoto. He received some astonishing answers, but would not havebeen satisfied with anything more reasonable. We wanted him satisfied,and gave our interpreter free rein.
The main trouble was we had nothing of value to offer him. Money wassomething he had no knowledge of. He wanted beads of a certain sizeand color; for two handfuls of them he expressed himself willing to beour friend for life. We had to educate him about money, and Kazimotoassured him that the silver rupees Fred produced from a bag were soprecious that governments went to war to get them away from othergovernments.
But the impression still prevailed that we were wasikini--poor men;and that is a fatal qualification in the savage mind.
"Why have you only one gun?"
In vain Kazimoto assured him that we had dozens of guns "at home"--thatFred's landed possessions were so vast that two hundred strong menwalking for a month would be unable to march across them--that Fred'swives (Fred seemed to live under a cloud of sexual scandal in thosedays) were so many in number they had to be counted twice a day to makesure none was missing.
The chief had eighteen wives of his own to show. He could prove hismatrimonial felicity. Why had Fred left his behind? How did he dare?Who looked after them? Had he left the guns behind to guard the women?Why did such a rich man travel without food for his men? The chiefhad seen us with his own eyes devour porridge as if we were starving.
To have told him the truth would have been worse than useless. To havementioned such a thing as shipwreck would only have stirred the savageinstinct to prey off all unfortunates. Failing evidence of wealth inour possession, the only feasible plan was to claim so much that hemight believe some of it, and it was Coutlass, drawing a bow at aventure, who ordered Kazimoto to tell him that we expected a party in afew days bringing tents, provisions and more guns.
"There will be blue-and-white beads of the sort you long for amongthose loads," added Kazimoto on his own account; and that eased thechief's mind for the night. Fred gave him a half-rupee, and promisedhim to exchange it when the loads should come for as many of the beadsas he could seize in his two fists. The chief went out to brag to thevillage, opening and closing his fists to see how huge their compasswas; and later that night his wives had to be beaten for fighting.They were jealous because the fattest and the youngest new one had bothbeen promised double shares.
There was another fight because our porters emerged from their hut anddemanded that a barren cow out of the village herd be butchered. Theymade their meaning perfectly clear by taking the cow by the horns andtail and throwing her on her back. Fred decided that argument with athick stick about four feet long.
The unusual spectacle of some one taking sides against his own men,whatever the rights or wrongs of it, so affected the chief that heentered our hut next morning disposed to hold us up for double promisesof beads. It was evident we had to deal with a born extortioner. Hewould increase his demands with every fresh concession.
"Oh, what's the odds!" laughed Coutlass. "Promise him anything! Theonly loads likely to come along this way for a year or two areSchillingschen's!"
Fred told the chief he would think the matter over, and chased him outof the hut. Coutlass had given us all a new idea in an instant, and hewas the only one who did not see its point--he, the only one who didnot give a snap of the fingers for the laws of any land!
"D'you suppose--"
"Too good to hope for!"
"If he thinks we're dead--?"
"And if he believes in that map--"
"He'll not need the map. He'll have memorized it. There's only acircle drawn on it to mark the Elgon district. All the old pencilmarks have been rubbed out as he searched the other likely places anddrew them all blank."
"He'll travel without military escort?"
"Sure! He won't want witnesses! He'll make believe it's a scientifictrip. Remember, he's a professor of ethnology. That's how he puts itall over the British and goes where he pleases without as much asby-your-leave."
"Say, fellows! It's a moral cinch that when we broke away from Muanzahe made up his mind in a flash to return to British East and destroy uson the way. He thinks he made a clean job of that. I'll bet he loadedthe launch down with stuff for a long safari, and thinks now he has aclear run and can take his time!"
"If that's how the cards lie, the game's ours!"
Coutlass saw the point at last and offered himself on the altar offorgiveness and friendship.
"Make me your partner, gentlemen, and if he travels within a hundredmiles of this I will crawl into that Schillingschen's tent in the nightand slit his throat! I would murder him as willingly as I eat when Iam hungry!"
"Your job has been assigned you!" answered Fred. "When Mr. Brown'scattle are back in Lumbwa perhaps we'll give you something else to do!"
Nevertheless, Coutlass had outlined in a flash the limits of the plan.We would draw the line at murdering even Schillingschen, but must helpourselves to his outfit as our only chance of re-outfitting withoutbetraying our presence in British East. But the plan was not withoutrat-holes in it that a fool could see.
"Schillingschen's boys will escape and run to the nearest Britishofficial with the story!"
"And the British official will be so full of the importance ofSchillingschen and the need of protecting his
beastly carcass--to saynothing of the everlasting disgrace of letting him be scoughed onBritish territory--and the official reprimand from home that's sure tofollow--that he'll come hot-foot to investigate!"
"We'll have to provide against that," said Fred, and we all laughed,including Coutlass. Talk of provisions is easy when you have no meansout of which to provide. It did not occur to include Coutlass in thecalculations, or to dismiss him from them; but without exchanging anyremarks on the subject it was clear enough to all of us that no suchplan could hope to succeed with the Greek at large, at liberty to spoilit. We saw we should have to keep him in our party for the present.
"Don't forget," said Coutlass, more accustomed than we to seizing thestrategic points of desperate situations, "that Schillingschen willhave his own boys with him from German East."
"I didn't see any with him on the launch," I objected.
"He would never have come without them" Coutlass insisted. "He madethem lie below the water-line out of reach of bullets at the only timewhen you might have seen them! He wouldn't trust himself to Britishporters. My word, no! That devil knows natives! He knows some ofthem might be British government spies! He'll have his own boys,--ifthey can't carry all his loads he'll buy donkeys at Mumias; there arealways donkeys to be bought at that place, brought down from Turkana bythe Arab ivory traders. Do donkeys talk?"
At any rate, we talked, and made no bones at all about includingGeorges Coutlass in the conversation. It was his suggestion that weshould send natives to look out for Schillingschen, and Fred'samendment that reduced the messengers to one, and that one Kazimoto.Any of the others might decide to desert, once out of sight, and wecould scarcely have blamed them, for their path had not lain amongroses in our company.
Kazimoto had a million objections to offer against going alone on thaterrand, as, for instance, that the chigger fleas would invade ourtoe-nails disastrously without his cunning fingers to hunt them outagain. He also prophesied that without him to interpret there wouldswiftly be trouble between us and the chief; but we saw the other sideof that medal and rather looked forward to an interval when the chiefshould not be able to talk to us at all.
At last, on the second morning after our arrival at the village,Kazimoto wrapped an enormous mound of cold mtama pudding in a cloth andwent his way, prophesying darkly of murder and sudden death lurkingbehind rocks and trees, as unwishful to be alone as a terrier without amaster, but much too faithful to refuse duty.
The chief saw a side of the medal that we had not guessed existed. Hecame and sat beside us like an evil-smelling shadow, satisfied that nowwe could not dismiss him, he being under no obligation to understandgestures. Curiosity was the impelling motive, but he was not withoutsuspicion. Fred said he reminded him of a Bloomsbury landlady whoselodgers had not paid their board and rooming in advance.
Will solved that problem by taking the rifle, and one cartridge thatFred doled out grudgingly, and after a long day's stalking amongmosquitoes in the papyrus at the edge of the lake five miles away, atimminent risk of crocodiles and an even worse horror we had not yetsuspected, shooting a hippopotamus. Forthwith the whole village, chiefincluded, went to cut up and carry off the meat, and there followedrevelry by night, the chiefs wives brewing beer from the mtama, and allgetting drunk as well as gorged. Coutlass and Brown got more drunkthan any one.
Will came back with flies on his coat--three large things likehorse-flies, that crossed their wings in repose, resembling in allother respects the common tetse fly. He said the reeds by thelake-side were full of them.
Remembering tales about sleeping sickness, and suspicion of conveyingit said to rest on a tetse fly that crossed its wings, I went out thefollowing day and walked many miles east-ward, taking with me the onlytwo sober villagers I could find. They came willingly enough for fivemiles, thinking, I suppose, that I intended to follow Will's exampleand kill some more meat (although, as I did not take the rifle with me,they were not guilty of much dead-weight reasoning).
At the bank of the fifth stream we came to they stopped, and refused togo another yard. Thinking they were merely lusting after the meat andbeer in the village, I took a stick to drive them across the stream infront of me, but they dodged in terror and ran back home as if thedevil had been after them.
I crossed the stream and continued forward alone about another miletoward a fairly large village visible between great blue boulders withcactus dotted all about. There was the usual herd of cattle grazingnear at hand, but the place had an unaccountable forlorn look, and thesmall boy standing on an ant-hill to watch the cattle seemed toolistless to be curious, and too indifferent to run away. The big browntetse flies, that crossed their wings when resting, were everywhere,making no noise at all, but announcing themselves every once in a whileby a bite on the back of the hand that stung like a whip-lash. Theyseemed to have special liking for coat-sleeves, and a dozen of themwere generally riding on each side of me. One could drive them off,but they came back at once, as horse-flies do when poked off with awhip.
When I drew near the village nobody came out to look at me, which wassuspicious in itself. Nobody shouted. Nobody blocked the way, ordragged thorn-bushes across the gateway. There were black men andwomen there, sitting in the shadows of the eaves, who looked up andstared at me--men and women too intent on sitting still to care whethertheir skins were glossy--unoiled, unwashed, unfed, by the look ofthem--skeletons clothed in leather and dust, desiring death, butcruelly denied it.
One man, thin as a wisp of smoke, rushed at me from the shadow of a hutdoor and tried to bite my leg. The merest push sent him rolling over,and there he lay, too overcome by inertia to move another inch, his armuplifted in the act of self-defense. Nobody else in the villagestirred. There were more huts than people, more kites on the roofsthan huts. Some of the littlest children played in the hut doors, butnearly all of them were listless like the grown folk. The only sign ofnormal activity was the big black earthen jars that witnessed that thewomen performed part at least of their daily round by bringing waterfrom the lake.
I returned late that afternoon, walking, as it were, out of a belt oftetse flies. On one side of a narrow stream they were thick together;to the west of it there were scarcely any, although the wind blew fromeast to west.
"There's no fear of news about us reaching any government official," Iannounced. "There's a curtain of death between us and the governmentthat even suspicion couldn't penetrate!"