by Talbot Mundy
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE SLEEP THAT IS NO SLEEP*
Ten were the plagues that Israel fled, and leaving left no cure, Whose progeny self-multiplied a million-fold remain, The cloak of each one ignorance, idolatry its lure, And death the goal till, clarion-called, lost Israel come again. Till then that loaded lash that bade the tale of bricks increase (Eye for an eye, and limb for limb!) shall fail not though ye weep; The conqueror's heel for Africa!--The fear that shall not cease!-- Desire, distrust, the alien law!--The sleep that is no sleep!
------------------* It is a characteristic of the so-called Sleeping Sickness that isdecimating the tribes around Victoria Nyanza that the victim, althoughhe goes into a coma, never actually sleeps from the time of taking thedisease until the end, usually more than a year later. The natives, atribe that came originally down from Egypt, themselves say that thedreaded sickness is a "visitation" by way of revenge on them for formersins, although what sins, and whose vengeance, they are at a total lossto explain.------------------
Kazimoto was gone five days, and then came preceded by proof of thenews he brought. He came in the evening. In the morning,unaccountably from the northward, instead of from the westward whereUganda lay,--avoiding the regular safari route and the belt of sleepingsickness villages, came a genial, sleek, shiny Baganda, arrayed inkhaki coat, red fez, and bordered loin-cloth, gifted with tongues, andself-confident beyond belief.
He knew nothing of us at first, for we sat in our hut with a smudgegoing, nervous about flies, even Coutlass, reckless as a rule ofanything he could not see, and perfectly indifferent to death forothers, now fidgety and afraid to swagger forth.
One of our Nyamwezi porters suddenly made a great shout of "Hodi!"* andcame stooping through the low door, standing erect again inside toawait our pleasure. We could hear others outside, listening under theeaves. When we had kept him waiting sufficiently long to prevent hisgetting too much notion of his own importance, Fred nodded to him tospeak. [* Hodi! Equivalent to "May I come In!"]
"Is it true, bwana," he asked, "that the Germans will come soon andconquer this part of Africa?"
"Certainly not!" said Fred.
"There is one out here, a Baganda, who says they will surely come. Hesays the religion of Islam will be preached from end to end ofeverywhere, and that the Germans are the true priests of Islam. Theywill come, says he, when the time is ripe, and call on all the convertsof Islam to rise and slay all other people, including all white folk,like the English, who do not accept that creed. If that is true,bwana, whither shall we go, and whither shall you go, to escape suchterrible things?"
"Does the Baganda know there are white men in this village?" Fred asked.
"Not yet, bwana."
"Don't tell him, then, but bring him in here. Tell him there are folkin here who say he is a liar."
The Nyamwezi backed out, and we heard whispering outside. There isprecious little performance in Africa without a deal of talk. At theend of about ten minutes the porter again shouted "Hodi!" and this timewas followed in by the stranger, seven other of our own men, uninvited,bringing up the rear.
"Jambo!"* said the Baganda, with a great effort at bravado, when hiseyes had grown accustomed to the gloom and the first severe surprise ofseeing white men had worn off. He was a very cool customer indeed. [*Jambo! Kiswahili equivalent of "How d'you do?"]
"Whose pimp are you?" demanded Fred, without answering the salutation.
The man fell back on insolence at once. There is no native in Africawho takes more keenly to that weapon than the mission-schooled Baganda.
"I am employed by a gentleman of superior position," he answered inperfectly good English.
"In what capacity?" demanded Fred.
"I am not employed to tell his secrets to the first strangers who askme!"
"Do you obey him implicitly?"
"I do. I am honorable person. I receive his pay and do his bidding."
"Is his name Schillingschen?"
The Baganda hesitated.
"All right," said Fred. "I know his name is Schillingschen. You haveboasted that you do what he orders you. These men tell me you havesaid that the Germans are coming to conquer the country and destroy allpeople, including the English, who have not accepted Islam!"
The man hesitated again, glancing over his shoulder to discover hisretreat cut off by our porters, and eying Fred with malignity thatreminded one of a cornered beast of prey. He could control his face,but not his eyes.
"Oh, no, sir!" he answered after swallowing a time or two. "How couldthey tell such lies against me! I am a person born in Uganda, now aBritish protectorate and enjoying all blessings of British rule. I ameducated at the mission college at Entebbe. How should I tell such atale against my benefactors?"
"That is what you are here to explain!" Fred answered. "No! You can'tescape, you hellion! Squat down and answer!"
"All this stuff is pretty familiar," Will interrupted. "In the Statesthere are always people going the rounds among our darkies preachingsome form of treason. Over there we can afford to treat it as ajoke--now and then an ugly one, and on the darkies!"
"This is an ugly joke on a darkie, too!" grinned Fred.
The Baganda made a sudden dive and a determined struggle to get throughthe door, but our porters were too quick and strong for him.
"Confession is your one chance!" said Fred.
"Put hot irons to his feet!" advised Coutlass. (The native beer hadleft him villainously evil-tempered.) "Gassharamminy! Leave me alonewith that fat Baganda for half an hour, and I will make him tell mewhat is on the far side of the moon, as well as what his mother saidand did before she bore him!"
"Shall I hand you over to this Greek gentleman?" suggested Fred.
"Oh, my God, no!" the Baganda answered, trembling. "Hand me over tothe bwana collector! He will put me in jail. I am not afraid ofBritish jail! It will not be for long! The English do not punish asthe Germans do! You dare not assault me! You dare not torture me!You must hand me over to the bwana collector to be tried in court oflaw. Nothing else is permissible! I shall receive short sentence,that is all, with reprieve after two-thirds time on account of goodconduct!"
"Make him prisoner in the sleeping sickness village you told us about!"advised Coutlass, lolling at ease on his elbow to watch the man'sincreasing fear.
"Oh, no, no! Oh, gentlemen! That is not how white Englishmen behave!You must either let me go, or--"
He made another terrific dive for liberty, biting and kicking at hiscaptors, and finally lying on his back to scream as if the hot ironsCoutlass had recommended were being applied in earnest.
"What shall we do with the beast?" asked Fred. The hut was so full ofhis infernal screaming that we could talk without his hearing us.
"Tie him up," I said. "If we let him go he'll run straight toSchillingschen."
"Leave him here with Coutlass and me!" urged Brown. (He and Coutlasshad grown almost friendly since getting drunk together on the nativebeer.)
"I recommend," said Will, "that we take the law in our own hands--"
The Baganda ceased screaming and listened. For some reason he suspectedWill of being the deciding factor in our councils--perhaps because Willhad said least.
"--take the law in our own hands, and thrash him soundly. Later on wecan report what we have done to the British government, and ask forcondonation under the circumstances or pay whatever piffling fine theycare to impose for the sake of appearances. The point is, there's nocourt of law in these parts to hand him over to, and he needspunishing."
"I agree," said Fred. "Let's thrash him to begin with."
"Let's thrash him," went on Will, "as thoroughly as we've seen hisfriends the Germans do the job!"
"Both sides!" agreed Brown.
"Oh, no, no, no! You can not do that, gentlemen!"
"Lay him out!" ordered Fred. "Let's begin on him. Who shall beat himfirst?"
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At a nod from Fred our porters stretched him face downward on the drydung floor, and knelt on his arms and legs. One of them staffed a goodhandful of the dry dung into his mouth to stop his yelling.
"Of course," said Will, rather slowly and distinctly, "if he told usabout Schillingschen, we'd have to let him off. Let's hope he holdshis tongue, for I never wanted to flog a man so much in all my life!"
The most palpable absurdity at the moment was that there was nothing inthe hut to beat him with. There were dozens of strips of the recentlyshot hippo hide hanging in the sun outside to dry, with stones tied tothe end of each, to keep them taut and straight, but nobody made a moveto bring one in.
"Take off his loin-cloth!" ordered Fred. "It won't hurt him enoughwith that thing on!"
The Baganda spat the cow-dung from his mouth and struggled violently.
"Oh, no, no!" he shouted. "I will tell! I will tell everything!"
"Too late now!" said Will jubilantly.
"No, gentlemen, no! Not too late! I tell all--I tell quickly! Onlylisten! Bwana Schillingschen will shoot me if he knows! He is verybad man--very kali--very fierce--and oh, too clever! You must protectme!"
He could hardly get the words out, for the knees of our porters pinnedhim down, and his chin was pressed hard on the floor.
"I ordered that loin-cloth removed!" was all Fred commented. One ofthe porters attended to the task, and the Baganda hurried with histale, drawing in breath in noisy gasps like a man with asthma becauseof the weight of his captors on him and the strained position of hisneck.
"Bwana Schillingschen is sending me and many other men--not allBaganda, but of many tribes--to go through all parts and say Islam isthe only good religion--all Germans are high-priests of Islam--soon theGermans are coming with great armies to destroy the British and allother foolish people who have not accepted Islam as their creed! Allare to get ready to receive the Germans."
"Where is Schillingschen now?" demanded Fred.
"Beyond Mumias."
"How far beyond Mumias?"
"Who knows? He is marching."
"In which direction? What for?"
"To Mount Elgon. I do not know what for."
"How do you know he is going to Mount Elgon?"
"He told me to go there and find him after my work is done."
"How long were you to continue at what you call your work?"
"A month or five weeks."
"So he expects to stay a long time up there?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I do not know."
"Has he many loads with him?"
"Very many provisions for a long time."
"Guns?"
"Several. I do not know how many. He gives guns to some of his menwhen he gets to where the government will not know about it."
"How many men has he?"
"Not many. Ten, I think."
"How can they carry all those loads?"
"He brought a hundred porters from Kisumu to Mumias, and there boughtmore than forty donkeys, sending the porters back again."
"Then are the men he has with him his own?"
"Yes."
"From German East?"
"Yes."
"What orders did he give you besides to tell these lies about Germanconquest?"
"None.
"Pass me that whip!" ordered Fred. There was no whip, but the Bagandacould not know that.
"He gave the same order to all of us," he yelled. "We are to stay outa month or five weeks unless we meet white men. If we meet white menwe are to discover the white men's plans by talking with theirservants, and then hurry to him and report."
"Ah! How many other spies has he out in this direction?"
"None."
"Why don't you pass me that whip when I ask for it?" demanded Fred.
"None! None! None, bwana! I am the only man in this direction! Hehas sent them north, south, east and west, but I am the only one downhere."
"He has a lot more to tell yet," said Coutlass. "Let me put hot ironson his feet!"
Fred demurred. "He couldn't march with us if we did that!" he saidwith a perfectly straight face.
"Who cares whether or not he marches!" answered Coutlass. "To tell allhe knows is his business! Wait while I heat the iron!"
The Baganda began to scream again, babbling that he knew no more. Heassured us that Schillingschen had set the closest watch along the oldcaravan route, and toward his own rear in the direction of Kisumu,whence officials might come on chance errands.
"All right," said Fred. "Truss him up tight and keep him prisoneramong our men in their hut."
"Our men are likely to get drunk tonight," warned Will.
"Let me watch him!" urged Coutlass. "Leave me with him alone!"
To the Greek's disgust we decided to trust the prisoner with our ownmen, and to keep very careful watch on them, threatening them with lossof all their pay if they dared get drunk and lose him--a threat theyaccepted at its full face value, but resented because of Brown's andthe Greek's behavior the night before. They begged to get a littledrunk--to get half as drunk as Brown had been--half as drunk asCoutlass had been--not drunk at all, but just to drink a little. Wewere adamant, and Brown added to their resentment by preaching them asermon in their own tongue on the importance of being respectful towardwhite folk.
Kazimoto came in toward dark, foot-weary, but primed with news, andmost of what he had to say confirmed the Baganda's story.Schillingschen, he said, was making for Mount Elgon in very leisurelystages, letting his loaded donkeys graze their way along, and spendinghours of his time in questioning natives along the way on every subjectunder the sun.
Besides the fact of his leisurely progress, which was sufficientlyimportant in itself, we learned from Kazimoto that Schillingschen's ownten boys were unable to speak the language of the country beyond a fewof the commonest words--that they all slept in a tent together atnight, usually quite a little distance apart from Schillingschen's--andthat the donkeys were usually picketed between the two tents in a longline. He also told us the ten men had five Mauser rifles between them,in addition to the German's own battery of three guns, one of which hecarried all day and kept beside his bed at night; the other two werecarried behind him in the daytime by a gun-bearer.
That was good news on the whole. Coutlass went out on the strength ofit and began to drink beer from the big earthenware crock in which thewomen had just brewed a fresh supply. Brown joined him within fiveminutes, and at the end of an hour, they were swearing everlastingfriendship, Coutlass promising Brown his cattle back, and Brownassuring him that Greece and the Greeks had always held his warmestpossible regards.
"Thermopylae, y'know, old boy, an' Marathon, an' all that kind o'thing! How many miles in a day could a Greek run in them days? Gosh!"
They two drank themselves to sleep among the gentle cattle in thecircular enclosure in the midst of the village, and we--going out inturns at intervals to make sure our own boys were not drinking--maturedour plans in peace.
We were too few to dare undertake the task in front of us without theaid of Brown and the Greek. It was a case of who was not against usmust be for us, and the end must justify both men and means. We triedto work out ways of managing without them, but when we thought of ourBaganda prisoner, and the almost certainty that both he and Coutlasswould race to give our game away to Schillingschen if let out of sightfor a minute, the necessity of making the best, not the worst, of theGreek seemed overwhelming.
Early next morning, before the village had awakened from its glut ofbeer and hippo meat, we shook Coutlass and Brown to their feet none toogently, and, with the Baganda firmly secured by the wrists between twoof our men, started off, Fred leading.
The village awoke as if by magic before we had dragged away the thornsfrom the gate, and the chief leaped to the realization that the beadshe had promised his women were about as concrete as his drunken dreams.He and a swarm of his younger men followed
us, begging andarguing--mile after mile--growing angrier and more importunate. It wasby my advice that we crossed the stream into the sleeping sickness zoneand left them shuddering on their own side. Our own men did not knowso much about the ravages of that plague, and in any case were willingto dare whatever risks we despised. But we took a long bend back andcrossed the stream again higher up as soon as the chief and his beggarswere out of sight. It was a pity not to keep exact faith and give themthe promised beads, if only for the sake of other white men who mightcamp there in the future; but more than two tons of hippo meat was notbad pay for their hospitality.
We wished we had as good price to offer at the villages on our way, forsleep under cover we must, if we hoped to escape the ravages of fever;and the primitive savage, at least in those parts, had the principledown fine of nothing whatever for nothing. Yet as it turned out, thevery man whose company we looked on as a nuisance proved to be a key toall gates. We marched along the track the Baganda had taken. Thechiefs of all villages knew him again; and the men who dared take sucha prophet of evil prisoner were looked upon as high governmentofficials at least.
We accepted that description of ourselves, letting it go by silentassent, and explained our lack of tents and almost every other thingthe white man generally travels with as due to haste. Heaven only knewwhat lies Kazimoto told those credulous folk, to the perfectly worthyend of making our lot bearable, but we were fed after a fashion, andlodged after a worse one all along our road. And who should send inreports about us--and to whom? Obviously white men with a prisoner,marching in such a hurry toward the north, were government officials.Who should report officials to their government? As for the tale aboutour having left our loads behind--are not all white people crazy? Whoshall explain their craziness?
From being a nuisance the Baganda became a joke. When it dawned onhis fat intellect that we were hurrying toward Schillingschen with onlyone rifle among us and no baggage at all, he jumped at once to theconclusion we must be Schillingschen's friends; and his fear that weintended to hand him over to that ruthless brute for summary punishmentwas more melting to his backbone than the dread of our imaginary whip,that had caused him to give Schillingschen away.
He tried to bite through the thongs that held him, but Will twisted forhim handcuffs out of thick iron wire that we begged from a chief, whohad intended to make ornaments with it for his own legs. We did notdare let the man escape, nor care to prevent our men from using forcewhen he threw himself on the ground and wept like a spoiled child.
"I will tell you" he said at last, deciding he might as well be hangedfor mutton as for lamb, "what Bwana Schillingschen is searching for! Iwill tell you who knows where to find it! I will tell you where tofind the man who knows! Only let me run away then to my own home inUganda, and I will never again leave it! I am afraid! I am afraid!"
But that was only one more reason for keeping him with us, and noground at all for delay. He would not tell unless we loosed his handsfirst, so we pressed on, camping late and starting early, until aboutnoon of the fourth day we caught sight of Schillingschen's tents in thedistance, and gathered our party at once into a little rocky hollow todiscuss the situation.
Behind us the land sloped gradually for thirty or forty miles toward asharp escarpment that overlooked the level land beside the lake. Attimes between the hills and trees we could glimpse Nyanza itself,looking like the vast rim of forever, mysterious and calm. In front ofus the rolling hills, broken out here and there into rocky knolls,piled up on one another toward the hump of Elgon, on which the blue skyrested. In every direction were villages of folk who knew so little ofwhite men that they paid no taxes yet and did no work--marrying andgiving in marriage--fighting and running away--eating and drinking andwatching their women cultivate the corn and beans and sweetpotatoes--without as much as foreboding of the taxes, work for wages,missionaries, law and commerce soon to come.
Schillingschen was more than taking his time, he was dawdling, keepinghis donkeys fat, and letting his men wander at pleasure to right andleft gathering reports for him of unusual folk or things. We came veryclose to being seen by one of them, who emerged from a village near uswith a pair of chickens he had foraged, followed by the owner of theluckless birds in a great hurry and fury to get paid for them.
Schillingschen's tent could fairly easily be stalked from the far sidein broad daylight, and I was for making the attempt. There was therisk that one of our porters might grow restless and break bounds if wewaited, or that the Baganda might take to yelling. We gagged him assoon as I talked of the danger of that.
Coutlass and Brown, however, were the only two who would agree with me.Like me, they were weary to death of mtama porridge, with or withoutmilk, and the sight of Schillingschen's distant campfire with a greatpot resting on stones in the midst of it whetted appetite for whiteman's food. They and I were for supping as soon as possible from theGerman's provender, and sleeping under his canvas roof.
But Fred and Will insisted on caution, claiming reasonably thatsurprise would be infinitely easier after dark. It was unlikely thatSchillingschen would post any sentries, and not much matter if he did.His knowledge of natives and natural air of authority made him quitesafe among any but the wildest, and these were a comparatively peacefulfolk. In all probability he would sit and read by candle light, withhis boys all snoring a hundred yards away. There was no making Fredand Will see the virtue of my contention that a sudden attack while hisboys were scattered all about among the villages would be just aslikely to succeed; so we settled down to wait where we were with whatpatience we could summon.
It was a miserable, hungry business, under a blazing hot sky, packedtightly together among men who objected to our smell as strongly as weto theirs. It is the fixed opinion of all black people that the whiteman smells like "bad water"; and no word seems discoverable that willquite return the compliment. That afternoon was reminiscent of thelong days on the dhow, when nobody could move without disturbingeverybody else, and we all breathed the same hot mixed stench over andover.
We posted two sentries to lie with their eyes on the level of the rimand guard against surprise. But there was so little to watch, exceptkites wheeling overhead everlastingly, that they went to sleep; and wewere so bored, and so sure of our hiding-place and Schillingschen'sunsuspicion that we did not notice them. I myself fell asleep towardfive o'clock, and when I awoke the sun was so low in the west that ourhollow lay in deep gloom.
Fred was lying on his elbow, sucking an unfilled, unlighted pipe. Willlay on his side, too, with back toward both of us, ruminating.Coutlass and Brown were both asleep, but Coutlass awoke as I rolledover and struck him with my heel. Nearly all the porters were snoring.
It was a sharp exclamation from the Greek that caused me to sit up andface due westward. The others lay as they were. It was the gloom inour hollow--the velvety shadows in which we lay with granite bouldersscattered between us, and no alertness on our part that saved that day,although Coutlass acted instantly and creditably, once awake.
Schillingschen stood there looking down on us, with his feet plantedsquarely on the rim of the hollow, and Mauser rifle under one arm. Hisgreat splay beard flowed sidewise in the evening wind. One hand heheld over his eyes, trying to make out details in the dark, as stupidas we were. He stood with his back to the setting sun, exposinghimself without any thought of the risk he ran, his huge, filled-outhead refusing stubbornly to take in the truth of what had happened.Once convinced, the Prussian mind is not readily unconvinced. He hadassured himself long ago that our party was at the bottom of VictoriaNyanza.
The second he did make out details he was swift to act, but that wasalready too late, although he did not know it at the moment. He threwup his rifle and laughed--a great deep guffaw from the stomach, thatawoke every one.
"So, so!" he gloated. "So Mr. Oakes and his fellow escaped convictsare alive after all! Ha-ha-ho-ho! So you followed me all this way,only to forget that kites are cur
ious! A fine comfortless journey youmust have had, too! There were twenty kites wheeling over you. Icounted, and wondered. Curiosity drove me to come and see. The firstman who moves a finger, Mr. Oakes, will die that instant! Let yourrifle lie where it is!"
It would be no use pretending the man had not courage, at all events ofthe sort that glories in the upper hand of a fight. He chuckled, andreveled in our predicament, taking in, now that his eyes had grownaccustomed to the darkness of our hollow, the utter lack of comforts orprovisions, and enjoying our disappointment. He certainly knew himselfmaster of the situation.
"I suspect you have a man of mine down there with you!" he announcedpresently. "Is not that my Baganda? Is he gagged? Is he bound?Loose him, Mr. Oakes, at once! I say at once! Otherwise you die now!"
He pointed his rifle directly at Fred, and the next second fired it,but not intentionally. Coutlass sprang from behind him, having crawledout through a shadow, and hit him so hard with a stone on the back ofthe skull that he loosed off the rifle and pitched head-foremost downamong us. The Greek promptly jumped on top of him with a yell like amaniac's, failing to land with both heels on his backbone by nothingbut luck. As it was, he lost balance and sat down so hard onSchillingschen's head that there was no need of the energy with whichwe all followed suit, piling all over him to pin him down like houndsthat have rolled their quarry over.
The German was stunned--knocked into utter oblivion--breathing like asleeping drunkard, and bleeding freely from the nose. Coutlass jumpedoff him and began to execute a war dance up and down, yelling like amadman until Fred threatened him with the rifle and Will gagged himfrom behind.
"Do you want his armed men down on us, you ass?"
"Gassharamminy!" he laughed. "I forgot about them! Let us go and eattheir supper!" He spoke as a man who had full right now to beconsidered a member in good standing. We all noticed it, and exchangedglances; but that was no time for argument about men's rights.
Brown was already over the rim of the hollow and making in thedirection of the tents. We called him back and compelled him to stayon guard over the prisoners, to his awful disgust, for he suspectedthere was whisky among Schillingschen's "chop-boxes." But so did we!We left all our boys with him except Kazimoto, threatening them withhitherto unheard of penalties if they dared as much as show a lock ofhair above the rim of the hollow while we were gone.
Then the rest of us, with Fred leading and Kazimoto last of all, creptout and sought the lowest level along which to reach the camp. Willhad taken Schillingschen's rifle and went next after Fred. Coutlassfollowed so close on my heels that more than once he trod on them, andonce so nearly tripped me that Fred called a halt behind some bushesand cursed me for clumsiness.
But it turned out to be easy hunting. The ten boys had tied thedonkeys up to a rope in line and sat crooning while their supper cookedat a long bright fire. We came up to Schillingschen's tent frombehind, crept around the side of it, and in a moment had three moregood weapons, I taking the big-bore elephant gun that had dealt with usso savagely on the lake, Coutlass seizing another Mauser, and Kazimotoadopting the shot-gun.
The rest was child's play. We marched out of the tent all abreast andcalled on the ten boys to surrender, making them put up their handsuntil Coutlass had found their five rifles and ammunition. They weretoo astonished even to ask questions. Accustomed to Schillingschen'sdespotic orders, they obeyed ours silently, showing no symptoms oftrying to bolt, having nowhere to bolt to; but we took precautions.
Kazimoto ran back to bring our party, and we took a coil of iron wirefrom Schillingschen's trade goods and fastened every prisoner's handsfirmly behind his back, including the unconscious German's. That done,we ate the meat, beans and vegetable supper that the ten had cooked.
Brown and Coutlass found Schillingschen's whisky after that, and underits influence again swore ceaseless friendship beneath thenon-committal stars. While they feasted we took Coutlass' rifle awayas a plain precaution.
