Samba: A Story of the Rubber Slaves of the Congo

  CHAPTER XIII

  "Honour thy Father and thy Mother"

  Jack felt himself in a distressing predicament. Could he allow Samba'sfather and mother, for whom he suspected the boy must have made heroicexertions, to undergo a punishment which, as he had learnt from morethan one of the refugees, frequently ended in the death of the victim?Yet how prevent it? Whatever might be urged against it, the use of thechicotte had become established as a recognized instrument ofadministration in the Congo Free State. As a stranger and a foreignerhe had, to begin with, no right to interfere, and his previousrelations with Elbel had been such that a protest and an attempt atdissuasion would be equally useless. His action on behalf of Lofundo'sson had been taken on the spur of the moment; it would not disposeElbel to pay any attention to calmer and more deliberate measures now.Even a threat to report him would probably have no effect on theBelgian. He was only doing what the officers of the State, or theofficials of the Trusts holding authority from the State, wereaccustomed to do, whether by themselves or their agents. A protestfrom Jack would merely aggravate the punishment of the wretched people.

  Although Elbel had not taken any open step against Jack since theirlast meeting, the latter felt assured that he was nursing his spite andonly awaiting a favourable opportunity to indulge it. Indeed it waslikely that something had already been done. Perhaps Elbel was incommunication with Boma. He had mentioned that a captain of the Stateforces was on his way up the river; for all that Jack knew the officermight deal very summarily with him when he arrived. That Elbel wouldtamely endure the humiliation he had suffered Jack did not for a momentbelieve.

  Jack put these points to Barney.

  "If I attempt to do anything for Samba's people," he added, "I must beprepared to back up my demands by force, and that will mean bloodshed.I can't run the risk, Barney. Uncle left me in charge, and, as I'vetold you, said I wasn't to fight except in self-defence."

  "Bedad, sorr, but he'd fight himself if he were here."

  "That may be, but I can't take the responsibility."

  "Cannot we get the people out uv the scoundhrel's clutches widoutfighting, sorr? The bhoy escaped, to be sure."

  "True; how did you get away, Samba?"

  The boy explained that he had been imprisoned separately from hisparents: he did not know why. They had been chained by the neck andfastened to a tree in front of Boloko's hut; he had been roped by theankle and secured to another tree farther away. In the middle of thenight he had wriggled and strained at his bonds until, after much toiland pain, he had released his foot. Then, when the sentry's back wasturned, he had slipped away, stolen behind the huts, and with greatdifficulty clambered over the stockade.

  "And are your parents still chained to the tree?"

  Samba did not know. He had not ventured to approach them afterreleasing himself, for his sole hope was in the Inglesa, and if he wererecaptured he knew that his parents' fate was sealed. But if theInglesa wished, he would steal back into the village and see if theprisoners were still at the same spot.

  "That will never do," said Jack. "The boy would certainly be caught,Barney."

  "That's the truth, sorr. But 'tis the morning for Lingombela to go tothe village for eggs; could he not find out what you wish to know?"

  "He's a discreet fellow. Yes, let him try. He must be very careful.I wonder that Elbel has not forbidden our men to go into the village;and if he suspects any interference there'll be trouble."

  Barney went out to send Lingombela on his errand. Meanwhile Jack gotSamba to tell him, through Lepoko, how he had found his parents. Theboy gave briefly the story of his wanderings, his perils from the wildbeasts of the forest, his hunger and want, his capture by the Bambute,his escape, his adventure with the crocodile, his second capture andmore successful escape under cover of a great forest storm. Jack wasdeeply impressed at the time; but many of the details came to him laterfrom others, and each new fact added to his admiration for theindomitable young traveller.

  The pigmies who had captured Samba at the river were a different tribefrom those with whom he had lived in the forest. Like those, however,they made much of him, giving him plenty of food, but never letting himgo out of their sight.

  One night, a fierce tempest swept through the forest, snapping greattrees and whirling them about like feathers. Thunder crashed,lightning cut black paths through the foliage; and the Bambute coweredin their huts, dreading lest these should be crushed by a falling treeor scorched by the lightning's flame, yet feeling safer within thanwithout. But Samba rejoiced in the elemental disturbance. Reckless ofthe terrors of the storm in his fixed determination to escape, he stoleout when the uproar was at its height and plunged into the forest. Allother peril was banished by the fury of the tempest. Once he passed aleopard within a few feet, but the beast was too much scared by thelightning to seize the opportunity of securing an easy meal.

  After many days of wandering and privation Samba came within a day'sjourney of what had been his village. Stumbling accidentally upon oneof his fellow-villagers, he told him his story, and was taken by him toa cave in the forest where several of the fugitives from Banonga werein hiding, some badly wounded. Samba came to them like a sunbeam.What he told them about Mr. Martindale gave them courage and hope.Some set off at once to seek out the Inglesa whose praise Samba was soloud in singing; they would implore his protection: others, moretimorous or less hardy, dreading the long and toilsome journey,resolved to remain where they were, for they were at least in nostraits for food. None of them could give Samba any news of hisparents: so after remaining a day or two with them he went on alone.He reached the site of the desolated village in the evening, and tookrefuge in the branches of a tree. His intention was to push on nextday and search the forest beyond the village. But with morning lightsomething impelled him to wander round the scene of his happychildhood. Here had stood his father's hut; there, not far away, theold chief Mirambo had dwelt. It seemed to Samba that the place wasaltered in appearance since he had left it in company with Mr.Martindale. An attempt had been made to repair the ruins of Mirambo'shut. Somewhat startled, Samba approached it curiously, and was stillmore startled to hear low groans proceeding from a spot where a cornerof the site had been covered with rough thatch. Entering, hediscovered with mingled joy and terror that his father and mother laythere, nearly dead from wounds and starvation.

  With the negro's instinct for returning to his old haunts, Mboyo hadcome back with his wife to Banonga, and managed to rig up a precariousshelter in his father's shattered hut. Then his strength failed him.He had been wounded in the attack on the village, but had made good hisescape to the forest with his favourite wife. His other wives andchildren had disappeared; of them he never heard again. The unwontedexposure soon told upon his wife Lukela; she fell ill, and, weakened asMboyo was by his wounds, they were unable to scour the forest as theymight otherwise have done for food. As the days passed their conditionhad gone from bad to worse, and at last they had painfully,despairingly, made their way back to their old home, to die.

  But Samba did not mean them to die. He set himself at once to rescuethem. As he knew well, there was little or no food near by; the wantondestruction of plantations had been very thorough. They were too weakto travel. He emptied his tin, to which he had clung through all hiswanderings, of the food it contained, and making a rough barrier forthem against wild beasts, cheered them with hopeful words and startedback on his tracks for a further supply of food.

  When he reached the cavern where he had left his fellow-villagers, hefound it empty. Apparently even the timid ones had set off to seek theprotection of the good Inglesa. He could do nothing that night, butnext morning he went down to the stream whence they had obtained theirsupply of fish and plied his spear until he had caught several. Thenhe made the long journey back, filling his tin as he went with berriesand nuts and anything else from which nourishment could be obtained.His parents were already a little better, thanks to the fo
od he hadalready given them, and perhaps also to the new spirit awakened in themby the unexpected arrival of their dearly loved son.

  Thus for several days Samba watched over them, making long journeys forfood. Each time he left them his absence became more prolonged; foodwas harder to get, and he was less able to hunt for it. While hisparents slowly regained a little strength, Samba weakened from day today. At last he could scarcely drag one foot after the other; he wasworn out by the terrible fatigue of constant marching through theforest, and by want of sleep, for he stinted himself of rest so thathis parents might be left alone as little as possible. More than oncehe sank exhausted to the ground, feeling that he could go no farther,do no more. His strength was spent; his head swam with dizziness; amist gathered before his eyes. Thus he would remain, half conscious,perhaps for minutes, perhaps for hours; he knew not: he had lost countof time. Then with the enforced rest the small remnant of his strengthreturned to him, and with it the memory of his parents' plight. Uponhim depended the life of the two beings he held dearest in the world.As the perils to which they were exposed were borne in upon his feveredintelligence he would struggle to his feet, and grope his way painfullyalong the forest track, his feet blistered, his flesh torn with spikesand thorns: above all, a dreadful gnawing hunger within him, for hewould scarcely spare himself sufficient food for bare sustenance whilehis parents were ill and in want.

  This dark and terrible period was illumined by one ray of hope. Hisweariness and toil were bearing fruit. Day by day his parents grewstronger; in a fortnight they were able to move about, and a week laterthey were ready to start for the cavern. But now it was Samba whorequired tendance. He could walk only a few yards at a time, supportedby Mboyo, who almost despaired of reaching the cavern before starvationagain overtook them. But the weary journey was completed at last, andafter a few days' stay at the cavern within easier reach of food, theparty became fit to undertake a longer march, and set out hopefully forMr. Martindale's camp.

  Jack could only conjecture what the terrors of that march had been, forbefore Samba's story was finished Lepoko returned from the village. Hereported that Elobela, furious at the boy's escape, had announced thathe would double the punishment to be meted out to his parents. Thispractice of striking at children through parents, and at parentsthrough children, was so much the rule in the Congo system of taxcollection that Jack did not doubt Elbel would carry out his threat.Meanwhile the two prisoners had been removed from the open air beforeBoloko's hut at the far side of the village, and conveyed to astoutly-built fetish hut near the stockade. This change of quartershad provoked murmurs not only from the villagers, but from Elbel's ownmen. The fetish hut was sacred to the medicine man of the village, andeven he affected to approach it with fear and trembling. The wholepopulation was talking about the desecration of the hut by the presenceof the two captives; men were shaking their heads and saying thatsomething would happen; and the medicine man himself--a hideous figurewith his painted skin--did not fail to seize the opportunity ofinflaming the minds of the villagers against the impious white man.But no one ventured to remonstrate with Elbel. He meanwhile had goneoff with a number of forest guards to an outlying village, leavingorders that the captives were to be watched with particular vigilance.

  Samba's face was an image of despair as he listened to Lepoko's report.What hope was there of his parents' rescue now?

  "Poor little chap!" said Jack. "After going through so much for themhe'll be heart-broken if he loses them now. What can we do for him,Barney?"

  "Faith, I can see nothing for it, sorr, but to lead a storming party.And I would go first, wid the greatest pleasure in life."

  "That's out of the question, especially as Elbel's away. All's fair inwar, they say, Barney; but I shouldn't like to attack the village inElbel's absence. In any case I don't want to fight if there's anyother way. Samba, run away with Pat; don't go beyond the gate; I wantto see if I can think of any way of helping your parents."

  Both the white men were touched by the boy's wistful look as he leftthe hut. Jack stuck his legs out straight in front of him, plunged hishands into his pockets, and bent his head upon his breast as hepondered and puzzled. Barney sat for a time leaning forward with hiselbows on his knees, smoking an old clay pipe. But he soon tired ofinaction, and rising, proceeded to open a tin of oatmeal biscuits inanticipation of lunch. He had just wrenched the lid off when Jacksprang up with a sudden laugh and slapped him on the shoulder.

  "I have it, Barney!" he cried. "They said something would happen;well, they were right; something shall happen, old man. And it's yourdoing!"

  "Mine, sorr! Niver a thing have I done this blessed day but smoke mepipe, and just this very minute tear a hole in my hand wid thisconfounded tin."

  "That's it, Barney! It was the tin gave me the idea. You know howgiants are made for the Christmas pantomimes?"

  "Divil a bit, sorr."

  "Well, don't look so surprised. Empty that tin of biscuits while Itell you, and when that's empty, open another and do the same."

  "Bedad, sorr, but all the biscuits will spoil."

  "Let 'em spoil, man, let 'em spoil. No, I don't mean that, but atpresent I think more of the tissue paper in those tins than of thebiscuits. We'll make a framework, Barney--any stalks or sticks will dofor that--and cover it with that tissue paper, and paint a giant's faceand shoulders on the paper, and we must find some coloured glass orsomething for the eyes, and something white for the teeth. We havesome candles left, luckily. Don't you think, Barney, a lighted candlebehind the paper would make a very decent sort of bogie?"

  "And is that the way, sorr, they make the giants at the pantomime?"

  "Something like that, Barney. But what do you think of the idea?"

  "'Tis the divil's own cleverness in it, sorr. But I'll niver enjoy apantomime any more, now that I know the way 'tis done. And how will yego to work wid the bogie, sorr?"

  "Why, we'll make the framework to fit my shoulders. Then you'll see.The first thing is to get it made. Go and get the materials. We shallwant sticks about three feet long, and ngoji cane[1] to tie themtogether, as there are no nails here. And you must send over to Imbonoand ask for some colouring matter. Red and black are all we shallneed. I don't know what we shall do for the eyes; there's no colouredglass handy, I suppose. We must do without if we can't find anything.Now, hurry up, Barney, and send Lepoko to me."

  For the rest of the day Jack and Barney were very busy in the hut. Itwas an easy matter to put the bamboo framework together. The tissuepaper from the two biscuit tins proved just sufficient to cover it.When this was done, Jack sketched with his pencil as ugly a face as hisartistic imagination was capable of suggesting, then laid on thepigments with his shaving brush, no other being at hand. He gave thegiant very thick red lips, opened in a hideous grin, heightening theeffect by carefully tying in a number of goat's teeth. The eyespresented a difficulty. No coloured glass could be found among any ofthe villagers' treasures, and after several attempts to supply itsplace with leaves, petals of red flowers, and glass beads stucktogether, Jack decided that the best effect would be made by leavingthe eye slits empty. The making of the bogie was kept a close secretbetween himself and Barney; but he got some of his men to make twolight bamboo ladders, which they did with great expedition, wonderingnot a little to what use Lokolobolo would put them.

  In the afternoon, as soon as he was assured that his bogie would turnout a success, Jack sent Lepoko into Ilola to foment the villagers'fear that the desecration of the fetish hut would certainly be followedby a visit from the offended spirit. He was to talk very seriously ofa great medicine man he had once met on the coast, who knew all aboutthe spirits of the streams and woods, and those who protected theforest villages. One of these spirits, said the medicine man, took theform of a giant, and any mortal upon whom he breathed would surely die.Jack knew that this story would be repeated by the villagers to theforest guards, and would soon be the property of the wh
ole community.Reckoning upon the fact that Elbel had his quarters near the gate ofthe stockade, and that the fetish hut was on the opposite side of theenclosure, not far from the stockade itself, so that the whole width ofthe village separated them, Jack hoped to create such a panic among thesuperstitious sentries that he would have time to free the captivesbefore Elbel could intervene.

  At dead of night, when he believed that the enemy must be sound asleep,Jack left his camp silently, accompanied only by Samba. He himselfcarried the bogie; the boy had the ladders. But even his own parentswould not have recognized the Samba of this midnight sortie. Jack hadbeen much interested on the way up the Congo by a kind of acacia which,when cut with an axe, exudes a sticky substance, emitting in thedarkness a strong phosphorescent glow. With this substance a series ofrings had been drawn on Samba's body, and he wore on his head a numberof palm leaves arranged like the Prince of Wales's feathers, smearedwith the same sticky material. He made an awful imp in attendance onthe horrific monster.

  Samba stepping close behind Jack to avoid observation, the two madetheir way stealthily around the village, keeping within the fringe ofthe encircling forest. Then Jack fixed the bogie upon his shoulders,lighted the candles placed in sconces of twigs cunningly constructed byBarney, and crept forward towards the stockade, closely followed bySamba, both bending low so as to escape discovery before the rightmoment.

  Lepoko had reported that two sentries had been placed over the fetishhut. Jack guessed that by this time their nerves would be at prettyhigh tension, and that they would not improbably be keeping a safedistance from the awful place they had been set to guard. One of theladders was planted by Samba against the stockade. On this Jackmounted, and the hideous countenance rose slowly and majestically abovethe palisade.

  A small oil lamp swung from the eaves of the hut. By its light Jacksaw the two sentries some distance away, but near enough to keep an eyeon the entrance so that the inmates could not break out unnoticed. Atfirst they did not see the apparition. To quicken their perception,Jack gave a weird chuckle--a sound that would have startled even sturdyEnglish schoolboys in the depth of night. The negroes turned roundinstantly; there was one moment of silence: then shrieking with fearthey rushed helter-skelter into the darkness.

  Taking the second ladder from Samba, Jack calmly descended on the otherside, and was quickly followed by the boy. The latter made straightfor the fetish hut. A light shone through the entrance immediately hehad entered; there was a muffled shriek; then voices in rapid talk,followed by the sound of heavy hammering. By the light of Jack'selectric torch Samba was breaking the fetters.

  By this time the whole village was astir. At the first instant ofalarm every man, woman, and child gave utterance to a yell; but as soonas they caught sight of the dreadful apparition, the vengeful spiritWhose visit had been predicted, the giant with hideous jaw and flamingeyes, they ceased their cries, and scampered in awestruck silenceacross the compound towards the gate.

  Slowly Samba's parents limped out of the hut after him, and with hisassistance mounted the ladder and descended on the other side of thestockade. Jack had bidden Samba take them for a time into the forest.To harbour them in his camp would involve further embroilment withElbel, a thing to be avoided if possible. They had barely disappearedin the darkness when a shot rang out, and Jack felt something strikethe framework above his head. Elbel had been awakened from sleep bythe first yell, but on leaving his hut found himself enveloped in sothick a crowd of quivering, panic-stricken negroes that he couldneither see what had caused their alarm nor get an answer to hisirritable questions. The delay had been just long enough to allow theprisoners to escape.

  Jack heard Elbel's voice raging at the people. As another shot whizzedby he reached up and extinguished the candles, then slipped over thestockade, drawing the ladder after him. Burdened with the bogie andthe two ladders he hastened away into the forest. For some minutes hewandered about, missing the guidance of Samba, who was with hisparents. At length he struck the path, and making his best speedregained his camp. Barney was awaiting him at the gate with loadedrifle, the trained men drawn up under arms.

  "The bogie did it!" he cried, feeling very hot and tired now that histask was accomplished.

  "Praise be!" ejaculated Barney. "Eyes front! Present arrms! Dismiss!"

  [1] This abounds in the forest, and is alike nails, string, and ropefor the natives.