The League of the Leopard

by Harold Bindloss

  Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book wasproduced from scanned images of public domain materialfrom the Google Print project.)

  THE LEAGUE OF THE LEOPARD

  HAROLD BINDLOSS

  "AT DAWN THEY WERE STILL RIDING"--_Page 230_]

  THE LEAGUE OF THE LEOPARD

  BY HAROLD BINDLOSS

  AUTHOR OF "PRESCOTT OF SASKATCHEWAN," "THE LONGPORTAGE," "RANCHING FOR SYLVIA," ETC.

  WITH A FRONTISPIECE IN COLORBY CARLTON GLIDDEN

  NEW YORK

  FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANYPUBLISHERS

  _June, 1914_

  CONTENTS

  Chap. Page I. A DANGEROUS BEQUEST 1 II. AN UNDERSTANDING 15 III. AT THE ELBOW POOL 30 IV. THE POACHER 43 V. THE TRYST AT HALLOWS BRIG 56 VI. DANE'S SILENCE 71 VII. A WARNING 85 VIII. TREACHERY 96 IX. TEMPTATION 110 X. RIDEAU'S BARGAIN 125 XI. THE TRAIL OF THE LEOPARD 137 XII. WEALTH IN SIGHT 149 XIII. PESTILENCE 163 XIV. AN EVENTFUL DECISION 177 XV. THE BOARDING OF THE KABUNDA 189 XVI. ILLUMINATION 202 XVII. IN NEED OF HELP 214 XVIII. MAXWELL'S CONFIDENCE 227 XIX. THE DANGEROUS SENORITA 240 XX. MAXWELL'S LAST MARCH 251 XXI. RELIEF 262 XXII. ON TO THE COAST 274 XXIII. AN EYE FOR AN EYE 285 XXIV. THE ESCAPE 297 XXV. THE HEART OF BONITA CASTRO 311 XXVI. REWARDED 320

  THE LEAGUE OF THE LEOPARD

  CHAPTER I

  A DANGEROUS BEQUEST

  It was very hot in the little West African factory where trader Nivenlay dying. The sea breeze had died away, and though sunset drew near, itwas not yet time for the spicy airs from the inland forest to mitigatethe temperature. The dust lay still in the sun-scorched compound, aboutwhich the palm fronds hung motionless, and only the roar of breakers onthe beach broke through the drowsy silence.

  Two white men lounged in cane chairs upon the veranda which encircledthe building. Both were limp, gaunt of frame, and pallid in face,because the climate they lived in is particularly unhealthy. Neither hadenjoyed much education, or felt the lack of it in the trade theyfollowed, while the cocktail jug on the little table betokened theirfavorite relaxation. Redmond and Gilby were West Coast traders who livedfar remote from intercourse with their fellows, except for the twoFrench rivals with whom they periodically quarreled. They concernedthemselves with little beyond the well-being of their factory, andindulged each appetite on opportunity, knowing that on the morrow theymight suddenly die. Yet they had their strong points, including atenacious regard for their employers' interests, which led them to toiltwelve hours daily when sick of fever if trade was good, and sometimesdefy the French authorities, and an inconsistent generosity, as theresult of which they had camped in the store shed, and turned over theirown quarters to the man who stood behind them, and his strickencompanion. The former was of very different type.

  "You have done your best for the poor devil," said Redmond, glancingregretfully from him toward the empty jug. "But if I know anything aboutcoast fever--and I ought to--Niven will get his release to-night. Stillrambling about that fortune, I suppose?"

  Carsluith Maxwell nodded, and Gilby commented meditatively: "It may beall a fever fancy, and it may be true. Niven was well known in thisafflicted colony years ago, and there is gold up yonder. In fact, rightaway from here to the Volta you can find the color in the rivers, butthere's very little of it that will pay for the washing, and few Britishmining companies that distribute much in dividends. Still, the oldPortuguese took a good deal out, if the tales are true, and one getssmall lots now and then put up in quills."

  Redmond laughed maliciously.

  "The last quills Gilby took in contained brass filings, and the firmwrote off their nominal value against our commission. Gilby had beendrinking cocktails all that day. He may be right about the gold, butit's my firm opinion that unless the French send up a strong column androot out the Leopards, no white man will ever find it. You have heardabout them, Maxwell?"

  Maxwell was a man of discretion, and though he had ventured beyond thefringe of the Leopards' country, he only said:

  "I don't know much about them. Do you?"

  "He does not," said Gilby. "Neither does any white man; unless perhapsit's Rideau, or Niven. They are supposed to be members of one of thesecret leagues run by the bush magicians in connection with the cult ofthe Ju-Ju; and if you want to know just what kind of devil a Ju-Ju is,you need not ask me. Anyway, from what one hears, those fellows can't beall impostors. They could apparently give our amateur necromancerspoints in hypnotism, and what they don't know about poisons is not worthlearning. They're no fools at bush politics either; and have managed torun Shaillu's kingdom, and keep white men out of it pretty successfully.It is believed that Shaillu would be glad to rule it without them, inhis own way."

  Maxwell knew all this, and a little more which his informant apparentlydid not; but he made no comment, and asked only one question:

  "Who is Rideau?"

  "He says he is a Frenchman," answered Gilby. "One would suppose that heought to know; but after a dispute about the count of some monkey skins,Clancy of Axim once asked in public if there was not a dash of the tarbrush in him, and was taken ill suddenly that night--which may, ofcourse, have been a coincidence. In any case, he goes trading inland;and though he brings down a little gum, nobody knows exactly what hebuys or sells. As you have heard, it's a ghastly country, and there's aheavy penalty for supplying niggers with modern rifles. The littleFrench commandant would give a good deal to fix a charge on him."

  "Thanks. I will remember if I meet him; but it is about time I returnedto my patient," said Maxwell, and the other two looked after him untilhe disappeared round a corner of the dwelling.

  "A curious man," Gilby commented. "He's probably like the parrot, for hesays very little. Still, it is not everybody who would have turned backwith his expedition on the very odd chance of saving a crazy countryman.It is just possible, however, he was glad to, after the bushmen hadscared him."

  "African parrots never think, unless it's about the pricking insidethem," said Redmond. "You wouldn't either, if a nigger had fed you withbroken glass, so you'd die as soon as he'd sold you, and keep the demandup. You're wrong, as usual, in other ways, too. If I'm a judge ofcharacter, there are no niggers in Africa who could scare that man."

  Meanwhile Maxwell had seated himself on the opposite veranda, and, aftera glance at a trestle couch which showed him that Niven was apparentlyasleep, was gazing out to sea. He was close on the age of thirty, ofaverage stature, but spare and sinewy. His sallow face had been furtherdarkened by the African sun, and though now its expression and that ofthe dark eyes was thoughtful, it was the face of a resolute man.Carsluith Maxwell was also, in a somewhat somber fashion, a handsomeman; and though some of his fair acquaintances described him as toosilent, and others as too sardonic, all agreed that he was interesting.Maxwell described himself as an individual of unsettled habits, bornwith fastidious tastes and no means to gratify them--which, he said,explained his wanderings in search of a fortune. He did not add that hischief ambition was to restore to its former prosperity an old Borderstronghold which, with every acre of its grass parks and stony plow-landheavily encumbered, stood behind the shores of Solway. CarsluithMaxwell, who some day would be master of Culmeny, had inherited morethan a trac
e of the silent grimness of the old moss-troopers from whomhe sprang.

  Turning presently, he saw that Niven was wide awake and looking out tosea. Their acquaintance had been brief, and dated from the night whenNiven reeled into the camp of a small French expedition, alone,fever-stricken, and half-crazy. Seeing that he would die in the forestwhen the expedition continued its march, Maxwell abandoned hisprospecting journey and turned back to the coast with him. The Africanmalaria often attacks a white man's brain as well as his body; andduring most of the time Niven had talked erratically. Now, however,Maxwell noticed that he appeared sensible and sane.

  "Good to come back to, isn't it?" he said, glancing at the sea, athwartwhich the track of the sunset beat luridly. "I used to long for it inthe forest when Lyle and I first set up the one factory which ever stoodmore than twelve months in Shaillu's country. That reminds me! I have agood deal to tell you, and, considering that I may not last outto-morrow, it's high time I began. I have given you a good deal oftrouble, but you may not regret it when I have done."

  "I shall not regret it in any case," said Maxwell quietly. He was seldomemphatic in speech.

  "You are like Lyle, and that's partly why I'm going to tell you. He andI went up into Shaillu's country long ago, and the Leopards tried topoison us. They wanted no white men there, and did not like free trade.They also tried other ways; but if our lives were in our own hands, weheld them tight--and any man might face the devil with a partner likeLyle. You will understand presently why I'm commencing at the beginning.Well, we nursed each other through fevers, and twice stood behind astockade with the rifle barrels burning our hands; but we made money,and I think the Leopards grew afraid of us because we lived in spite ofthem. Of course, we had our friends, because the brown traders from theNorth had to pay a heavy toll to the Leopards before we came; and someof them told us about gold having been washed out of a far-off river byniggers who had a poor idea of its value. We were too busy to troubleabout ventures of that kind; and as the river flowed through No Man'sLand there was nobody to sell us a marketable concession."

  The sunset was fading off the waters when Niven paused to gather breath,while his strained voice sank to a deeper tone as he proceeded:

  "There was a dispute as to who owned some gum we had paid for, and twomen were shot before we convinced the niggers that nobody could layviolent hands upon our property. Then one of Shaillu's sub-headmen, whosaid there had been a mistake somewhere, summoned us to a palaver totalk the question over. We went, with twenty armed Krooboys scaredalmost to death, who feared Lyle more than they did the niggers, andwere given a fair hearing. Several of the big Leopard men were there,but the headman held us justified, and when we had made everybody apresent the palaver ended in revelry. I warned Lyle; but to fearnothing, and be equally ready with smile or pistol, was always mycomrade's way.

  "We came back safely; but he dragged himself up the stairway with hisface all twisted the next night, and I knew what had happened before hetold me. 'Those devils have poisoned me,' said he."

  It was almost dark now, and the white mist from the forest slid inghostly wreaths past the little factory. Niven shivered before heproceeded:

  "Have you ever seen a comrade poisoned by the bushmen--when they meantto hurt him? No! Then you have something to be thankful for. Lyle, byworse luck, was young and strong, and took an unconscionable time dying;I don't know that I did well when I took the pistol from him. For threemortal hours I suffered all with him, and there was no power left in mewhen at last he let his head drop on the table. There are things it isnot fit to remember which one can never forget. Then I knew all that theman had been to me; and what I must do was plain before me.

  "I sent the chief Leopard man a message, with a token which, inaccordance with his own superstitions, made it more impressive, thatsooner or later I would demand full satisfaction, or, if I died toosoon, would pass the debt on in a way he understood; and I had notforgotten when a new trading combination made me general manager. Yousee, I needed money, and could wait very patiently. I also made money,and, when badly sick, let the firm send me home, a fairly prosperousman, to recruit in England. It was there I met the woman I married; andshe was worlds too good for me. I even forgot Lyle, and what we haddone in Africa; and--for one looks at things differently overthere--hoped for nothing better than to end my days in peace andsecurity."

  Niven so far had spoken sensibly, but he ceased when the thick hotAfrican darkness rolled down like a curtain, and was silent a space. Theland breeze had delayed its coming, the temperature was almostinsupportable, and the roar of the breakers set the whole factoryvibrating in unison. It is possible that the fever gathered strength, asit often does, at nightfall; for the sick man's speech was slow anddisjointed when he began again. It was also evident that he was a littlehazy in his mind.

  "Poor Elsie died, and left me very lonely. Without her the life grewtame, and I would lie awake thinking of Africa and Lyle. He was growingimpatient, and tried to warn me it was time I went back again. Thewarnings grew plainer, and at last I went. I had, so far as it was inme, trusted one man and loved one woman, and both of them had gone. Thetrading firms had forgotten my name, but I remembered the gold in theLeopard's country, and determined, if I could find it, to hire my ownfighting boys, and hunt down the whole accursed league. There is no lawbut the right of the strongest hand in Shaillu's country. I went up withfifty Krooboys; and perhaps the Leopards remembered and were afraid ofme, for we had almost reached the place in safety, when one of thesicknesses common up there seized us. I left most of the boys behind incamp with my headman, and pushed on for the river where the gold wassaid to be. I found it--or Lyle found it for me."

  Maxwell thought that no sane man would have attempted single-handed totry conclusions with the almost omnipotent league, but he sat still,with a composure that was characteristic of him, asking no questions,though the simple statement had roused his most eager interest. It wassome time before Niven proceeded.

  "I turned back to camp, and found none of all the boys I left there.Perhaps the headman had sold them. He had, you must remember, a curiouscross-shaped scar upon his forehead. I don't know where the rest went,or what I did, being fever-crazy, and it must have been Lyle who broughtme to the Frenchman's camp. Of course, Lyle is dead--I buried him withmy own hands under the first big cottonwood behind the factory longago--but he has never forgotten me. There was good alluvial gold in thatriver; and when I go you will find a record of my journey, with sketchesand compass bearings, under my pillow. I'll bequeath it to you, with mycurse upon the men who killed poor Lyle, on this condition: If you meetthe Leopards--and whoever goes up there will--you will remember myquarrel with them, and how my partner died."

  "After what I have heard about their doings, I can promise that," saidMaxwell quietly.

  "I think we both can trust you. You look that kind of man," said Niven."I should never have told you if you hadn't. The two things go together,for the Leopard headmen will know I have passed the quarrel on. Youcan't take one without the other."

  Niven sank into sleep or unconsciousness presently, and Maxwell satbeside him considering what he had heard. He could see that there was aburden attached to the legacy; but he had no profession, and was not arich man. It was true that he would shortly succeed to Culmeny, and hadinherited the family pride in the ancient estate; but, when the interesthad been paid, the rental of the poor, encumbered lands would providethe barest living. He determined that if there was gold in the Leopards'country he would stake his life on the chance of finding it. Aftercoming to this decision he called a Krooboy to watch the sick man, andretired to snatch a few hours' badly needed sleep. Sleep, however, wassome time in coming. The mildewed building was insufferably hot, and thethunder of the surf sufficient to keep awake any man who had latelyemerged from the hush of the twilight forest; but at last Maxwell sankinto fitful slumber. It afterward was evident that the Krooboy, too, hadslumbered.

  Several hours had passed when Maxwell awakened sudd
enly, and sat uplistening. Through the deep monotone of the breakers he could hear theland breeze sigh eerily about the building. A snake rustled in thethatch, and loose boards creaked as they soaked in the damp; butalthough there was nothing suspicious in all this, Maxwell felt thatsomething unusual had roused him. Men acquire an almost instinctiveprevision of danger in the eternal shadow of the African bush.

  Suddenly a detonation shook the building. Maxwell, leaping from hiscouch, ran along the veranda and burst, breathless, into Niven's room.Bright moonlight streamed in through the window, and he saw the sick manlying propped up on one elbow, with a pistol smoking in his hand. Nivenappeared perfectly sane, and his voice was steady when he spoke.

  "My fingers are shaky, and this is a hard pull-off, or I'd have shownyou the man who betrayed me," he said. "It was my book he wanted."

  Maxwell, who was quick in action, sprang out upon the veranda and made acircuit of the building. The dusty compound beneath it was clear asnoonday under the moon, but, save for two startled Krooboys and traderRedmond who crossed it at a run, nobody moved therein, and Maxwellhardly considered it possible that any fugitive would have had time toreach the bush. He returned and told Niven so.

  "You must have been mistaken," he said.

  The sick trader laughed harshly.

  "I am not in the least mistaken. I saw the man with the scar on hisforehead as plainly as I see you. He must have been one of the Leopards;and, whether it's magic or trickery, those fellows are fiendishlyclever. You won't be astonished at stranger things before they have donewith you. Take the book now, and keep it, if you can. If a man calledRideau ever hears you have it and wants to trade with you, distrust himas you would the devil. If he says I ever made any bargain with him, itwill be a lie!"

  Maxwell went out and allayed Redmond's curiosity by a promise to conferwith him in the morning; then he returned to watch beside Niven, whoslept tranquilly during the remainder of the night. After breakfastMaxwell told Redmond as much of the story as appeared judicious; but thetrader did not, as he partly expected, laugh at it.

  "Of course, it may have been all a delusion, and it may not," he said."If so, it's a coincidence that I heard Rideau has just arrived at thenext beach; and one of my boys, who seemed afraid of it, picked this upin the bush. It's a trifle that has a significance in the country yoursick friend rambled through."

  The trader handed Maxwell a little tuft of leopard's fur braided withfiber.

  "If Niven has told you any of his secrets it might be good policy not tomention it," he cautioned; "and Gilby and I are not curious. Thisfactory is sufficiently remunerative and deadly for us."

  Niven grew rapidly weaker all day, and when Maxwell asked him at sunsetwhether he had any messages to send to friends in the old country, hedid not appear to recognize him.

  "They're all dead a long time ago," he said ramblingly. "Poor Elsie, whowas worlds too good for me, lies in clean English earth a long wayacross the sea; but Lyle, who understands everything and why I forgothim, is waiting for me. I could not have a better comrade wherever heis."

  These were his last comprehensible words, for he passed out ofexistence, sleeping, with the chill of early morning, and was, as usual,laid to rest that day. Maxwell returned thoughtfully from the simplefuneral, feeling that the legacy might well prove an unmixed blessing.

  On reaching the veranda stairway, he heard somebody moving softly aboutwhat had been the sick man's room. He had good ears, and felt tolerablycertain that the next sound he caught was that made by cotton garmentsbeing quickly unfolded or wrapped together. Somebody, it appeared, wassearching Niven's apparel. In spite of Maxwell's quickness, he had notreached the doorway when a man came out of it and advanced, smilingtoward him. He was rather dark in face and full in flesh for anEuropean who had dwelt any time in Western Africa. He also was moreelaborately dressed, in spotless white duck, fine linen, and silk sash,than the average trader; but if his lips were a trifle thick, and hiseyes cunning, he had an easy, good-humored air, and saluted Maxwellgracefully.

  "Monsieur Maxwell, is it not? I have the honor to present myself--VictorRideau," he said. "By grand misfortune, I arrive too late to change theadieux with my friend of long time, the estimable Niven, and so wait toask if he left any paper for me. We have affair together, and there issmall debt he owe me, _voyez vous_?"

  Maxwell was a man of keen perceptions, and he would have distrusted thespeaker even if he had not been warned against him.

  "He left you no papers. Neither, so far as I can discover, did he leavea single franc piece in money."

  "Grand misfortune!" exclaimed Rideau. "Possible it is he tell you of hisaffair. The estimable Niven, you understand, was old friend of me. Thatis why I have the pleasure of wait your company."

  "He told me very little about his business affairs, and the rest wasspoken in strict confidence," said Maxwell; and for a few seconds thetwo men eyed each other--Maxwell curious but expressionless in face;Rideau somewhat uneasy. The advantage was with the Briton, for he wasseldom loquacious, while the man of Latin extraction seemed to find thesilence irksome.

  "You are perhaps busy," he said at length. "You grieve for the estimableNiven. Me, I grieve for him also. So, if it is not intrusion, to-morrow,by the morning, I come for condole with you."

  Rideau withdrew, and Maxwell first packed his few belongings--ahomeward bound steamer was due to call on the morrow--and then sat downto make a copy of the dead man's itinerary, with the sketches attachedto it. He was surprised to find that, mad or sane, Niven had noted themagnetic direction of each day's march, as well as taken cross bearingsof prominent objects wherever there was open country. These detailsincreased his hopefulness; and when he had enclosed the copy in a sealedenvelope and handed it to the French postmaster, he buttoned theoriginal in an inside pocket and sat down on the veranda, smokingthoughtfully.

  "It appears that other men beside myself believe Niven actually did findgold up there, as two attempts to steal his diary seem to prove," hereflected. "Whoever goes up to look for it will probably have to dealwith Monsieur Victor Rideau as well as the Leopards; and a little delayin setting about the search may throw him off the scent. The firstnecessity is a reliable partner, and I can think of nobody better thanHyslop."

  The homeward bound mailboat arrived before Rideau the next day, and whenshe stopped at the first port connected by cable, Maxwell despatched amessage to London:

  "_Wire Hyslop to meet me by Malemba._"

  Before the steamer proceeded he received the answer:

  "_Hyslop dead South America, according to Dane._"

  "Poor Andrew!" thought Maxwell. "That is check number one. Still, theremust be many suitable men at home, and I dare say I shall find one. WhoDane is, Carslake, parsimonious as usual, does not explain."