CHAPTER XII
Samba Comes Back
As Jack had expected, Boloko was flattered by the invitation, with itsimplied recognition of his importance. There is nothing a negro likesbetter than an opportunity for talk, and Boloko declared himself quiteready to meet the Inglesa. But he would not venture into the camp; themeeting must take place outside. The objection, considering thethinly-veiled hostility of the two parties, was not unreasonable. Jackgave up the idea of a banquet, and, about eight o'clock in the morning,went with Barney and Lepoko to the site of his original camp, where hefound Boloko and half a dozen of his men already assembled.
It is of the essence of a palaver to be deliberate, not to saylong-winded, and Jack followed the advice of Lepoko in passing manycompliments and talking about a great variety of matters before he cameto the point. Then, however, he made the point perfectly clear. Hespoke of what he had learnt of the forest guards' behaviour in thevillage, and of Bomolo's outrage in particular.
"You must know," he concluded, "that it is against the law of the landto injure or assault the people. Your duty is to see that they do notdestroy the vines by improper cutting, and that they go regularly intothe forest. You have no right to ill-use them."
"The white man speaks very wisely; he knows much more than Boloko.Boloko knows nothing of law or right; he does what is the custom."
"But you know, my friend, it is a wrong custom."
"It may be as the white man says, but the Inglesa is not my master. Mymaster is Elobela. Let the Inglesa complain to Elobela. As for right,what right has the Inglesa to interfere? He is a stranger; he is not aservant of the Great White Chief."
"I am indeed a stranger; I am not a servant of the Great White Chief.But the Great Spirit who made the world and all men bids me speak if Isee wrong done."
Boloko broke out in insolent laughter, and said something to his menwhich Lepoko refused to translate.
"Him say berrah nasty fing 'bout massa; me no can tell massa."
Jack saw that it was time to bring the interview to a close. There wasno coping with insolence.
"Very well," he said sternly. "It will be my duty to report at Bomawhat I have seen and heard in the village. And more, Boloko; I shalllay a complaint against you for attempting to cut loose our canoes, andfor conducting an attack by night upon our camp."
Boloko looked startled and began to bluster when this was translated tohim. But it was evident that this manner was assumed as a cloak to areal uneasiness. The moment Lepoko had concluded, Jack walked awayfrom the meeting, and as he returned to his own quarters he heard theguards discussing in excited and vehement tones what he had said. Forall his bluster, Boloko had been impressed. For a few days Jack heardof no overt acts of violence. Imbono's gratitude for the interventionwas almost overwhelming. He heaped praise and compliments upon hisbrother Lokolobolo, and, not content with words, made him a valuablepresent. Half a dozen of his men staggered to Jack's hut one nightunder the weight of a huge tusk of ivory, which Imbono had kept sincethe time when elephant-hunting was a profitable occupation.
Two days after the palaver a canoe arrived with another dozen Mauserrifles and ammunition from Mr. Martindale. The head paddler wascautious enough to send one of his men in advance to the camp toannounce his arrival, and Jack managed to get the rifles broughtsecretly within his stockade under cover of night. It was just aswell, he thought, to keep Boloko in ignorance of this new acquisitionof strength.
The man reported that he had been despatched from Irebo by an Inglesawho had entrusted him with a bonkanda[1] for the young Inglesa. Jackopened the note eagerly. This time it was very short:--
DEAR JACK,--
All going well. Have been delayed by little investigating trips I havemade in the concessions of the Abir Trust and the Domaine de laCouronne. Atrocities even worse than I thought. Hope all well withyou. Patience--and tact.
J.M.
P.S.--I am sending a dozen rifles and some ammunition; can't get anymore.
The paddler said that he had had great difficulty in eluding the whitemen and their agents. Only a few days before, he and his companionshad almost run into a white man who was coming up the river in asmoke-boat, establishing new outposts for the collection of rubber. Nodoubt an outpost would be established at Ilola; for Imbono was thechief of several villages and had many young men.
This news gave Jack no little uneasiness. Instinctively he felt thatthe difficulties arising from Boloko's presence would be increased bythe arrival of his Belgian superior. For after what he had learnt fromhis uncle he could not doubt that the tyranny of the forest guards waspractised at least with the connivance, if not by the actual authority,of the officials. As a precaution he took care to have men constantlyon the look-out at the river bank for the approach of strange boats,and when one day Elbel's launch was sighted, he withdrew all his menwithin the stockade and posted double sentries. He felt pretty surethat the white man in command was Monsieur Elbel, the man with whom Mr.Martindale had already had a brush; and of Elbel he had a profoundmistrust, formed at first sight and accentuated by all that he hadsubsequently heard.
Boloko and his satellites went in a crowd to the bank of the river togreet the new arrivals. From behind his stockade Jack watched themthrough his field-glass as they landed from the launch and set off forthe village. The white man was certainly Elbel. He was accompanied bya number of forest guards armed like Boloko's, and by a crowd ofhangers-on--negroes of many varieties. On the way up to the villageBoloko walked by Elbel's side, talking very earnestly, and Jack saw theBelgian throw a keen and inquisitive glance in the direction of hiscamp.
Not an hour afterwards Elbel left the village and walked over to Jack'ssettlement, which the natives had named Ilombikambua, "house of thedog," in reference to Pat the terrier. Jack had given orders that thewhite man was to be admitted if he came, but no black man in hiscompany. The Belgian had come alone, and looked a little surprisedwhen the sentries at the gate received him with a correct militarysalute. Jack rose from his stool in front of his hut and doffed hishat courteously. Outwardly he was calm enough; but he felt by no meanseasy in mind, realizing that his responsibility was far from being the"jolly lark" he had light-heartedly called it when Mr. Martindaleannounced his intention of leaving him in charge.
"Good morning, sir," said the Belgian in his foreign accent.
"Good morning. I think I have the pleasure of addressing MonsieurElbel?"
"Dat is my name. I do not know your name."
"John Challoner."
"Yes, I believe I see you before in a canoe."
"When I was coming up the river with my uncle."
"Who is now returned to Boma. Yes, I heard of dat. Mr. Martindale--Izink dat is de name--have found de gold he sought?"
"I am not at liberty to discuss Mr. Martindale's business."
"Exactly. I see. Ve must not be indiscreet, hein? Now as for yourMr. Martindale, I am not pleased, I say at vunce. I am not pleased vizMr. Martindale. He refuse to give me up de black boy dat vas in yourcanoe. Dat vas against de law: it is not permitted in de Congo Statefor de natives to leave deir village."
"But if the village no longer exists, Mr. Elbel?"
The Belgian shrugged.
"Dat make no difference! But I have more to say. I have learn datyour men have rifles; I see dem myself; dey even hold deir rifles at desalute, dey have military training, hein? Now it is not permitted tohave rifles in de Congo State: dey are vat you call contraband. I mussask you to be so kind and give de rifles to me."
"I am afraid I can't oblige you, Mr. Elbel. The rifles belong to myuncle."
"Dat make no difference! I find de rifles here: I muss ask you in dename of de Free State to give dem up."
"I don't know that you have any right to speak in the name of the CongoState. I believe, sir, you are an official of the Societe Cosmopolitedu Commerce du Congo--a private trust. I can't recognize yourauthority, Mr. Elbel."
"If you talk of law! ... are your practices legal, Mr. Elbel? Is itlegal to shoot and maim the natives as you have been doing for ahundred miles and more along the river? Is it legal to incite a nightattack on peaceable travellers?" (Here Elbel could not suppress astart, and looked far from comfortable.) "But whether I am actinglegally or not, I cannot recognize your authority. If you want therifles, I must ask you to wait until Mr. Martindale's return and demandthem from him. Until then they are in my charge, and I cannot givethem up."
Jack thought afterwards that he might have spoken a little lessbluntly; but he wished to put an end to a disagreeable interview. Hisfirmness made the Belgian angry.
"Ver' vell, ver' vell!" he said, flushing with annoyance. "You villsuffer for dis. You not recognize my right: vell, Capitaine Van Vorst,an officer of de State, comes up de river; he have right; and I say,Mr. Chon Shalloner, you shall be arrest and made to pay heavyamende--if not put in prison."
Jack's bow was a courteous intimation that the interview was ended.But the Belgian caught the flicker of a smile on his face, and flungaway in a rage which he made no attempt to disguise. Jack's sentries,who again brought their rifles to the salute, shrank back beforeElbel's scowl as he passed out of the gate.
Jack was not ill-pleased with the result of the interview. You havealways scored a point when the enemy loses his temper. ApparentlyElbel did not intend to take strong measures himself. He knew theweakness of his position. The situation would be changed if a Stateofficer was indeed on his way up the river: but Jack did not allowhimself to be disturbed by Elbel's threat; his uncle would doubtless beback in a few days, and he had unbounded faith in Mr. Martindale'sjudgment and discretion.
From that time he took care that either Barney or himself should bealways in the stockaded camp. His men had become a well-disciplinedforce, but he could not answer for their being able to act discreetlytowards a white man whom they had reason to dread.
For a day or two there was no sign of hostility from Elbel. He did notrepeat his visit, which Jack did not feel called upon to return. Butnews came from Ilola that, while the Belgian's arrival had checked theghastly ferocities of the forest guards, the chicotte had been stillmore freely in play than before. Every man whose basket did notcontain the requisite five kilos of rubber, or the quality of whoserubber did not approve itself to Elbel, was unmercifully flogged.Those with whom no fault could on any pretext be found were paid withperhaps a piece of cloth or some trumpery article which was useless tothem, and which in many cases they threw away.
Imbono sent word one day that the most distant of his villages had beenburnt. It contained a hundred adult male inhabitants, but only fiftyhad brought rubber to Ilola, the remainder having been engaged inhunting down a herd of elephants which had been ravaging their crops.Elbel had refused to accept the explanation. He had retained the fiftymen as hostages, and sent a detachment of his forest guards to bring inthe unruly fifty and burn their village down. Jack could only expresshis sympathy: he felt that there was nothing to be done.
One morning Barney, who acted as storekeeper to the camp, reported thatfood was running short.
"Well, Imbono will supply us," replied Jack.
"Beggin' your pardon, sorr, Imbono has little enough for himself sinceElbel and his blagyards came to the place. The thieving villains willhave the best, and divil a ha'penny do they pay for it."
"We must have food. When I was at Akumbi the other day I saw a goodcrop of ground-nuts. I'll go over myself and see if I can arrange fora supply."
Akumbi was the smallest of the chief's villages, situated about fivemiles up the river. Jack set off early with Lepoko, taking thewell-worn path through the fringe of forest. As he approached thevillage he heard cries of pain. Instinctively he quickened his stepsand hurried through the gateway in the stockade; then he came upon ascene that made his blood boil. Tied to a tree was a youth, who,Lepoko told him, was the son of Lofundo, the sub-chief of the village.Elbel was thrashing the captive with the chicotte, every lash cuttinginto the quivering flesh and provoking shrieks of agony. Not anothervillager was to be seen; all had fled either into their huts or intothe forest.
Infuriated at the sight, Jack forgot all counsels of prudence. Herushed towards the spot, peremptorily calling on Elbel to desist. TheBelgian swung round savagely, gave one disdainful look at theinterrupter, and raised his arm with the intention of putting all hisforce into another stroke. But Jack sprang at the uplifted arm, caughtElbel by the wrist and arrested the blow. Wrenching himself free, theBelgian, livid with rage, made a fierce cut at Jack. He was too nearfor the long lash to have the full effect intended; but Jack felt thesting as the flexible thong curled round him. Then his attitudechanged. Before, he had merely been conscious of a desire to protectthe negro; now, he was afire with a personal grievance. Elbel had nottime to raise the whip for a second stroke. Flinging out his left fistJack caught him a smashing blow on the cheek, and followed it up with aright-hander which hurled him half senseless to the ground. Elbelstaggered to his feet, presenting a piteous spectacle, blood streamingfrom his nose, his left eye half closed. He groped for his revolver,but the sight of Jack standing over him, pale but determined, revolverin hand ready for the next move, cowed him. He fumbled for a fewseconds at his belt, then slunk away without a word.
Jack turns the tables]
The village compound was immediately filled with a crowd of natives,who poured out of the huts: whence they had secretly watched the scene.Jack was overwhelmed with protestations of gratitude. He cut the boyloose and restored him, bleeding from the lash, to his father. Then heextricated himself from the excited throng, took Lofundo aside, waivedhis demonstrations, and, completing the business on which he had come,left the village as soon as he could. Now that the heat of the momentwas passed, he feared he had not done the villagers or himself anygood. A personal affray with Elbel was the last thing he would havedesired; and though he felt that he could hardly have acted otherwisethan he had done, he was in anything but an elated mood when hereturned to his camp.
He at once told Barney of what had occurred, and spoke of hismisgivings.
"Arrah thin, sorr," said the Irishman, "I do not see any cause fordisthress at all at all. The villain got his deserts, and 'twill tachehim a lesson. Sure I'd like to have seen his face, the spalpeen!"
"But I'd no right to interfere, Barney; you can't get over that."
"Begging your pardon, sorr, I do not agree wid that at all. Ye may saya father has the right to thrash his children; 'twas the holy Solomonhimself said so! But if he lays it on too heavy, the law steps in andsays 'Hands off!' A farmer has a right to get work out uv his horse;but if he overtaxes the poor baste, the law steps in again and says 'Nomore uv that.' These poor niggers seem to have to work widout fairpay, and pay rent into the bargain. That's more than an Irishman wouldstand; and when the nigger-driver begins to maul 'em as well, worsethan poor dumb beasts widout souls uv their own--be jabers! sorr, whatwould I do, if I saw a man ill-treating my Pat? I would knock himdown, sorr, if he was the Lord-Liftinant himself!"
The fact that several days passed without any sign of resentment orvengeance on Elbel's part did not make Jack less uneasy. So far fromhis trouncing having a deterrent effect, the treatment of the nativesbecame steadily worse. Things were following the inevitable course.The vines in the neighbourhood of the village had yielded all therubber of which they were at present capable, and the men had to gocontinually further afield. This necessitated their remaining for daysat a time away from their homes, in improvised shelters which affordedpoor protection against the weather and the wild beasts. They had toput up with indifferent food that gave scanty nourishment. When,having collected the rubber, they returned at last to their homes, theycould only remain there a couple of days, for the next demand was uponthem. Meanwhile their families had been at the mercy of the forestguards. Day by day complaints came to Jack from Imbono of
thebrutalities of these ruffians, some of them so horrible that his wholebeing quivered with passionate indignation. Why did not his unclereturn? How long must he remain helpless here, unable to lift a handin defence of the oppressed?
One evening, just as he had retired to rest, he was woke by Barney andtold that a strange negro had come to the gate and asked admittance.He had specially desired to see the Inglesa. Jack sent word that theman was to be brought to him, and awaited his coming outside the hut.
The negro came up in charge of Lepoko. By the light of his electrictorch Jack saw a tall man, so much emaciated that he appeared almost askeleton. His cheeks were sunken in, his arms and legs were no thickerthan a child's, and--what was this! The man held up one arm; the handwas gone!
"Who is he?" asked Jack, shuddering at the sight of the half-healedstump.
"Him call Batukuno, sah. Come from Nsongo. Him carry baumba[2] tobrudder, sah: Ekila, him forest guard, meet Batukuno, say, 'Gib mebaumba.' Batukuno say, 'No can do: me carry to brudder.' Rubber daycome. Batukuno bring basket; Ekila say, 'Rubber too much bad,Batukuno.' Batukuno say, 'No bad at all; good rubber all same.' Ekilalaugh, sah; cut off Batukuno him hand."
"Just in revenge for not getting the baumba?"
"Rebenge, sah, rebenge, all same."
"But how came he here?"
"Boy Samba, sah. Him tell Batukuno Inglesa massa good white man,brudder Tanalay, oh yes! Inglesa no 'fraid Boloko, no 'fraid Elobela;Inglesa gib Batukuno hut, gib food, gib plenty rings. Him come longlong way: hurt berrah much, sah, berrah sick; want eat, no can findnuff. Him hide long time 'cos 'fraid Boloko. Now hab got massa; no'fraid no more; Boloko, Elobela, dem 'fraid now."
"Where is Samba then?"
"Samba him long long way: him go find fader and mudder."
"I was right after all," said Jack turning to Barney. "I'm glad tohear the boy's alive. Well, Lepoko, take Batukuno to one of the hutsand give him some supper. Another sign of King Leopold's fatherlytreatment, Barney! Uncle said they cut the hands from the dead, but itappears that the living are mutilated too."
"The curse uv Cromwell on them, sorr. But, begging your pardon, youmade a mistake."
"How's that?"
"Sure you said 'twas my Irish English that sent little Samba away."
"Did I?" said Jack, laughing. "I'd forgotten it. He's a capitallittle fellow, Barney. Fancy, going by himself that long journeythrough the forest to find his people! And yet there are fools whothink that because a man is black he hasn't feelings or affections likeourselves."
Batukuno was only the firstfruits of Samba's missionary zeal. From dayto day, men, women, and children began to drop in at Jack's camp, manyof them mutilated, all showing terrible signs of ill-usage andprivation. Some were survivors of Samba's own people, the villagers ofBanonga; but they numbered among them men from other tribes. Some hadheard of the benevolent Inglesa from Samba's own lips; others frompeople he had told. Among them was an old chief, who appearedheart-broken at having been compelled to leave his country.
"Why did I leave, you ask, O white man!" he said in reply to a questionof Jack's. "In the morning, bullets; in the evening, bullets. Theyshot our mouths away, they shot through our hearts and our sides. Theyrobbed us of everything we had. Why should we stay to be killed likethat? That is why I ran away."
"Were many of your people killed?"
"Ah, ah!" he replied, "once we were as bafumba[3] in multitude; now weare only as these."
He spread out his fingers twice or thrice.
"And they have been killed--not dying by the sleeping sickness?"
"No. We have lost a few by the sleeping sickness, but only a few. Itis rubber that has killed our people. Botofe bo le iwa!"
Jack's sympathy was keenly enlisted on behalf of these unfortunatepeople; and he looked forward more and more eagerly for Mr.Martindale's return. He could not but smile a little whimsically,remembering his uncle's protestations, to find that Mr. Martindale wasgaining a reputation for general philanthropy through a large sectionof the Upper Congo territory. But as the stream of fugitives showed nosigns of diminishing he began to feel a certain embarrassment. It wasall very well to open a cave Adullam for every one that was distressed:to start a hospital for the halt and lame and blind; but the space hehad at command within his stockade was limited: already the huts he hadreserved for Mr. Martindale and his men were occupied, and everyfugitive meant another mouth to feed. He feared, too, lest the peaceand order of his settlement should be disturbed by the influx of somany idle strangers. And more than all, he feared that some of thepoor wretches who came seeking asylum with him would fall into thehands of Elbel ere they reached their desired haven. It was thatconsideration that induced him to refuse none who sought admittance.Elbel had been absent for some days from Ilola, and the fugitives, bychoosing always the fall of night to approach the place, had so farmanaged to elude observation by their enemies. But that could notcontinue; the presence of strangers in Ilombikambua must soon becomeknown to Elbel; then a watch would be set, and the wanderers would beintercepted. What their fate then would be Jack knew too well. Nonesuffered so terribly at the hands of the forest guards as people caughtstraying from their villages. Such absences interfered with theregularity of the rubber supply, which in turn affected the revenue andreduced profits. No runagate serf in mediaeval Europe was more severelydealt with than the Congo native who dared to range afield.
Jack could not hand the people over to Elbel's tender mercies; yet itwould soon be impossible to find room for more. While he was puzzlinghow to deal with this perplexing situation it was suddenly made stillmore complicated. Early one morning he heard Pat barking with morethan his usual vigour, and with a note of wild pleasure which he hadnot expressed for many a day. Leaving his hut to ask what hadhappened, he was met by the terrier, who ran up to him, leaped this wayand that, darted off towards the gate, then back again, all the timebarking with frantic joy. In a moment Jack saw the meaning of thedog's excitement. Samba himself was running towards him!
The boy flung himself down at Jack's feet, paying no attention even toPat.
"I am glad to see you, very glad," said Jack in Samba's own tongue."What have you been doing?"
His knowledge of the language was not great enough to permit him tofollow Samba's answer, poured out as it was with great rapidity, and apitiful earnestness that brought a lump to Jack's throat. But Lepokowas at hand, and translated faithfully.
Samba was in terrible distress. He had found his father and mother,and had brought them through peril and privation to the very verge ofsafety, when they fell among a number of forest guards evidently placedto intercept fugitives. All three were captured and taken to Boloko,who was beside himself with delight at the sight of his brother Mboyo aprisoner. He had a special grudge against him, dating from their oldrivalry in Banonga. Elbel had just returned from a visit to outlyingvillages; the prisoners had been carried before him, and when Bolokoexplained who they were, the Belgian ordered them to be tied up, andsentenced them to be thrashed publicly on the next day. Samba hadcontrived to escape from custody, and had now come to implore theInglesa to save his parents. They were so worn out by their longjourney, so ill from the hardships they had suffered, that they wouldcertainly die under the whip.
"Poor little fellow!" said Jack, laying his hand soothingly on theboy's head. "The whipping is to be to-morrow? You are sure?"
Yes; Elobela would be absent this day; he would not return till theevening. The flogging was fixed for dawn on the following morning.
"Come into my hut; we will see what can be done. Barney, you come too."
"Niggers have no feelings!" said Barney, releasing Pat from the graspin which he had been struggling while Samba told his story. "Begorra!they might as well say the same uv dogs!"
[1] Any kind of letter or document.
[2] Riches.
[3] Driver ants.
Samba: A Story of the Rubber Slaves of the Congo Page 15
