Boy Aviators in Africa; Or, an Aerial Ivory Trail
CHAPTER III
THE DARK CONTINENT
About a month after the events related in the last chapter thebluff-bowed French coasting steamer, Admiral Dupont, dropped anchorin the shallow roadstead off the steamy harbor of Fort Assini on thefar-famed Ivory Coast. A few days before, the boys had left SierraLeone and engaged quarters on the cockroach-infested little craftfor the voyage down the coast. It was blisteringly hot and from offthe shore there was borne on the wind the peculiar smell that everytraveler knows as "African." It is the essence of the darkcontinent. Our young voyagers and Ben sniffed at it eagerly.
"Smells like marigolds," said Billy at last--and it did.
But there was soon plenty more to discuss than the strangeappearance of the town, which in reality was little more than a bigvillage with here and there one, or two houses of some pretensionscattered about. For the rest, it consisted of the wickerwork hutsof the natives. Back of the town were dense forests and beyondthese again a long blue line of hills. An unhealthful looking lagoonlay between the houses and the mainland, into which the boys had beentold the Bia River, up which they were to begin their voyage to theinterior, emptied.
A broad yellow beach stretched in front of the houses and from this,as soon as the little steamer dropped anchor, whaleboats and canoesin great numbers were launched through what looked to be a thunderoussurf. They were navigated by Kroomen--or Krooboys as they aresometimes called--and who are a superior race to most of the nativesof Africa.
Some of the paddlers and oarsmen in the boats that surrounded theAdmiral Dupont were almost six feet in height and splendidly built.
"Good looking fellows those," said the captain, who had joined thegroup of wondering young adventurers, "but in spite of their goodlooks they are petty thieves, if they get the chance."
Of this quality, the boys were soon to get an example. Frank hadlaid down his field-glasses on a deck chair and didn't give them anymore thought, even when the decks were fairly swarming withhalf-naked, chattering, laughing Kroomen. When he looked around forthem, however, for the purpose of making out more clearly theoutline of the distant mountains, the glasses had vanished.
The young leader quickly divined what had occurred and stepping tothe rail he held above his head an English sovereign and a pair ofglasses, borrowed, from Billy.
"I'll give this money to the man who finds my field glasses," heshouted.
"It's a long chance," he remarked to Harry, "there may be some onethere who understands English. Anyway they can see that I'm willingto give money for something like the object I held up."
As much to Frank's astonishment as anyone else the next minute theyheard a hail from a canoe containing two particularly black Kroomen.
"Hey, boss;" one of them was shouting, "what you lost, eh?"
"Some one stole my field-glasses," shouted back Frank.
"All right, American massa," hailed back the Krooman, "I sail longtime 'Merican ships. I catch him for you."
"Well, what do you think of that?" demanded Billy. "If the Statueof Liberty had come off her perch and done a song and dance youcouldn't have astonished me more than to hear that sack of coal talkEnglish."
"They take several of those fellows to sea on trading ships, thatstop in here for logs from the interior," struck in Ben. "Itwouldn't surprise me but what that fellow there has been in New Yorkharbor, yes, and in San Francisco too."
The boys looked their astonishment.
"They are good hard workers," went on Ben, "and make good sailormen.They always come back here though in the end. They are as homeloving as a house cat."'
While the boys talked, their baggage was being hoisted into alighter that lay alongside, ready for shipment ashore. They wereabout ready to quit the ship when their attention was attracted by aterrific uproar among the natives alongside. Two or three canoeshad been upset and in the water half a dozen Kroomen were splashingabout like big, black fish.
"They'll drown," gasped Harry, as he watched the furious waterbattle.
"Not them," sniffed Ben, "they are as much at home in the water asthey are ashore. Hello!" he exclaimed, suddenly pointing, "there'syour field-glasses again, Frank."
Sure enough, from the hands of a spluttering, half-drowned native,the Krooman who spoke English had just wrested a dripping pair ofblack morocco-covered field-glasses. He held them aloft in triumph,treading water while he held the other's head under the sea as apunishment for his thievery.
"I catch 'um, boss, I catch um," he kept shouting triumphantly. Afew seconds later, having half drowned the unfortunate thief, hestood dripping like a figure cut out of black basalt before the boy.As he received his recovered property Frank presented its rescuerwith the sovereign. If it had been a fortune the man could not havebeen more overcome with gratitude. He sank on his knees.
"You come ashore my boat?" he begged. "Cost nothing to UnitedStates boys."
The adventurers assented and, having seen their baggage properlystowed on the lighter, they landed through the surf a short timelater and found themselves on the flat, yellow beach facing therather dreary looking row of Europeans' houses. The method oflanding the surf boats and the wonderful dexterity with which thenatives handle them is worth a whole chapter to itself. But itmight prove tedious reading, so suffice it to say, that with one manstanding erect in the stern with a steering oar, and the otherspaddling like demons, the Ivory Coast boatmen invariably land theirpassengers, in a smother of foam which seems overwhelming, withoutspilling a drop of water on them. Not a visitor to this coast buthas been impressed by their wonderful skill.
"Well, here we are," remarked Billy, looking about him at the novelsurroundings.
"The first thing to do," announced Frank, "is to go to the house ofMonsieur Desplaines, to whom Mr. Barr gave us a letter of introduction,and talk over our plans."
Monsieur Desplaines was the consular agent of the United Statesgovernment at Assini, which is a French port, and had promised bycable to Mr. Barr to give, the young travelers all the advice thathis experiences could suggest. He had also volunteered to selectfor them a train of native baggage carriers, and hunters that wouldbe reliable. There are no roads into the heart of Africa andeverything is transported by human pack-trains. The natives of thispart of the coast are strong, muscular men not easily fatigued andare capable of carrying burdens on their heads twenty-five miles ormore a day without exhaustion.
As the boys started to make their way up the beach a trim figurewith neatly waxed black mustaches, almost extinguished in a hugepith helmet and dressed in white duck with a red sash about thewaist, emerged from the nearest house and hastened toward them.
"Welcome to Africa!" cried the newcomer as he approached and who, asFrank at once guessed, was M. Desplaines himself. "Come with me tothe house and make yourselves at home."
The boys shook hands warmly with the little Frenchman who seemed sohospitably inclined and followed him eagerly toward the whitewashedhouse from which he had emerged.
"I would have been at the steamer to meet you," he exclaimedapologetically; "but she got here a day ahead of time and I was notprepared."
Inside the house, which was delightfully cool and darkened byjalousies from the glaring heat outside, the young adventurers wereintroduced to Madame Desplaines and two little girls, whoconstituted the family of the consular agent, who also kept thegeneral supply store at Assini.
After dinner that evening, M. Desplaines talked long and earnestlyto the boys. Of the real object of their mission, he had of courseno knowledge. That was kept a secret even from Barr's intimates.There was too much at stake to let it leak out. His idea was theboys had come on a hunting and exploration, much of which was to beperformed by aeroplane. He informed the boys that, acting on cabledinstructions, he had laid in a good supply of gasoline by the laststeamer from Sierra Leone and that arrangements for a train ofcarriers and for boats up the river had been made. There was awheezy steam launch belonging to the trading post which woul
d towthe boats up the Bia River as far as they desired. The Kroomen theboys engaged would take them to that point would then be abandoned,as they refused to go far from the coast. Such was the outline ofM. Desplaines' conversation with the travelers.
The evening was far advanced when already the little party was readyfor bed and already their imaginations had been fired by the talesthat the consular agent had told them of the interior of the wildBambara country. As they were saying good night to their hospitablehost and hostess, there was a knock at the door. In response to M.Desplaines shouted: "Come in," a tall coal-black figure stalked intothe lamp-light. The glow shone warmly on his black skin and lit upthe mighty muscles that played beneath it. The strength of the manwas evidently tremendous. The boys, to their surprise, recognizedhim at once, as the rescuer of Frank's opera-glasses. He paid noattention to Desplaines or his family, but walked straight up toFrank.
"Hi boss, you go hunt, you go far into land of Bambara," he said,raising his mighty arm and pointing to the northeast.
Frank nodded.
It was a strange scene. The boys and Ben in their hunting costumesand stout boots, M. Desplaines, short and inclined to be fat and asneatly barbered and tailored as if he had just stepped off theboulevards, Madame Desplaines and her little girls in cool, whitefrocks--and in the center of the group--dominating it by hisimpressive manner and mighty form--the huge, ebony Krooman.
"In the land of Bambara much game," went on the Krooman.
"So we have heard," replied Frank.
"In the land of Bambara much danger," continued the Krooman, fixinghis dark eyes full on Frank, "much danger to the white boys, who flylike birds."
"Why, how do you know that?" exclaimed Frank, amazed that theKrooman should not only know their destination--which might havebeen a guess--but have divined the fact that they had an aeroplane.
"Krooman know much that white man not know!" replied the giantblack.
Then, rising his finger, he counted the amazed group of adventurerswho stood transfixed at the scene.
"One--two--three--four--five go to Bambara," he intoned. "Come backone--two--three. Two die. Sikaso, know."
Before any of the astounded party could frame a question or opentheir lips, the huge figure had stalked to the doorway and vanished.
"He'd make a nice, comfortable house-pet that fellow," said Billy,who was the first to speak. "One, two, three, four, five go toBambara," he mimicked. "Come back one, two, three. Two die.Sikaso know. Br-r-r-r-r, he gives me the creeps."
They all laughed at Billy's absurd aping of the stately negro, butnevertheless none of them felt inclined for more talk that night.Somehow, the Krooman had cast a gloom on the party. Had they knownhow nearly his prophecy was to come to fulfillment they might evenhave been tempted to abandon the expedition.