CHAPTER XXII
A Message and a Meeting
Ilombekabasi had peace. Elbel was sufficiently occupied for a coupleof days in constructing a third camp, which he placed still furthereastward in the direction of Ilola, but still between Jack and the mainriver. And even when the camp was completed he gave no sign of furtheroperations. Jack was forced to conclude that his enemy was tired ofhis continual failures, and would now wait inactive untilreinforcements reached him.
One afternoon, about a week after the flooding of the camp, a negro wasseen running up the gully. Shots rang out in the distance, and fardown the gully appeared a band of Elbel's men, who relinquished thepursuit of the runner on coming within sight of the fort. The manscampered up to the hole in the stockade. He was unarmed save for theuniversal dagger. He cried out to be admitted; he had a message forthe Inglesa; and Jack ordered him to be hauled up through the aperture.
"Me nearly lib for dead," he said panting, "me run too fast."
"Well, who are you, and what do you want?"
"Me Lofembi, sah. Me boy massa him uncle."
"What!"
"Yes, sah; me massa Martindale boy."
"Where is he?" cried Jack, feeling himself go pale with excitement atthe sudden news.
"He long long in forest, sah. Come up ribber in boat; one man sayyoung massa shut up in Ilombekabasi; old massa get out of boat, hide inforest so long for young massa to know. He plenty sick at Boma, sah;nearly gone dead. Fust small small better, sah! lib for go sick allsame; talk small small, sah; no make head straight. He try write; nocan hold black stick; he fit for go sleep."
"Good heavens, Barney! Poor old Uncle!"
"Sure, the man may be a liar, sorr," said Barney.
Jack gave the man a keen glance.
"My uncle tried to write, you say. What did he try to write?"
"Bonkanda to massa; oh yes! He want say he come; he want know what hefit to do. No want see bad man; no; want to come to Ilombekabasi.Plenty hard job, 'cos bad man dah." He pointed in the direction ofElbel's camp.
"If he is so very sick, how did he come from the river into the forest?"
"Four five men carry him, sah. Plenty big lump; oh yes."
"Why did he send you? Where's Nando?"
"Nando lib for sick at Leo[1]; no fit to come; him plenty sick; oh yes.Me Lofembi; me come, do talk for massa. Massa gib fing to show youngmassa; here he am."
He produced a gold scarf ring and handed it to Jack.
"This is my uncle's, sure enough, Barney. It's genuine. What on earthcan we do? Poor old Uncle! In his last note he said he wasrecovering; he must have had a relapse. How can we get him into thefort? We must bring him in somehow. It's awful to think of him lyingill in the forest without any one to look after him; and I am cooped uphere!"
"Send Samba to fetch him, sorr."
"I can't, Barney," said Jack after a moment's thought. "Samba goesalone safely, but I simply can't trust him to lead a party in,especially as Uncle seems to be too bad to move. I can't see any wayout of it. If I took some men out myself, and made a dash for it, theenemy would be on our track, and we should have to fight our way inagainst the whole lot of them. Impossible; they outnumber us sogreatly."
Barney was sympathetic, but unable to offer a suggestion. Bidding himkeep an eye on Lofembi, Jack went back to his hut to think the matterout by himself. He was torn with anxiety. An unlucky chance might atany moment reveal his uncle's whereabouts, and he knew what mercy Mr.Martindale might expect if he fell into the hands of Elbel. Somethingmust be done; yet what? A dozen plans occurred to him, only to berejected.
One thing was clear; whatever was done must be done either by Barney orhimself. Mr. Martindale being incapacitated, another white man mustlead his party, for the natives, unless properly led, might be seizedwith panic at the slightest check and bolt.
Barney he could not send. There was no finesse about him; he was agood fighter, with any amount of pluck, but the very antithesis of ascout. Jack felt that he must go himself if his uncle was to have thebest chance of getting in. There was no other course that offered thesame prospect of success.
What were his chances? His sortie against the enemy's camp had been abrilliant success. Since then Elbel had been practically on thedefensive; he was afraid of wasting ammunition; afraid also of leavingany small body unsupported by his main force. During the past weekJack's scouts had reported night after night that no pickets had beenposted as formerly around the fort, so that, except on the south-east,where Elbel's camp was, the neighbourhood was open. He could thuseasily steal out at the gate in the northern wall under cover ofdarkness, and by making a wide detour ought to be able to bring Mr.Martindale and his party back in safety.
Yet he had qualms. Ought he in any case to leave the fort? Supposinghe failed, what would happen to the hundreds of people who depended onhim? Driven by force of circumstances into a life-and-death strugglewith Elbel's Company, he had not ventured to look forward to itsultimate issue. The duty of the moment seemed to be to hold on, tokeep the poor negroes out of the clutches of their oppressors, andleave the end with God. Could he trust Barney to continue his work ifhe should be removed? Ought he to think of it? Thus he pondered andpuzzled, the arguments for and against chasing one another in a circlethrough his mind.
He had reached no conclusion when Barney came to the hut. The goodfellow seemed a little uncomfortable; he stood hesitating at theentrance, his readiness of speech having apparently deserted him.
"Barney, I'm the most miserable fellow alive," said Jack, looking up.
"All but wan, sorr; all but wan. 'Tis the master who is more miserablethan you or me, sorr. Think uv it; alone in the forest, wid none butblack idjuts to wait upon 'm. I've been thinking mighty hard, sorr,and the end uv it is this; 'tis you that must go, sorr. Sure I canhold the fort while you are gone."
"But what if I never come back, Barney?"
"'Twould be a desp'rate hard case, sorr. But what thin? I'm anIrishman, and, bedad! 'twas for hard cases Irishmen was born. Niver afear but I'd stick to it, sorr. We've beaten the scuts all along. Andif the captain goes, sorr, sure the liftinant takes his place and doeshis best to fill it dacently. What would have happened if ye had gotknocked on the head in that sortie uv yours? Do ye think Barney O'Dowdwould have hung out a white rag and surrindered? Sorrow a bit! I'dhave nailed my colours to the mast, speakin' by the card, and dared therufn'ns to come and take 'em."
"You're a brick, Barney!" cried Jack, springing up and gripping him bythe hand. "I'll go! I'll take Samba, this very night, and bring dearold Uncle in."
"That's right, sorr. And we'll nurse him back to health and strength,and make him colonel uv the reg'mint."
"Call out those men who captured Elbel's camp with me, and place themat the gate to make a dash if they hear firing. And meanwhile you manthe wall and hold yourself ready to cover our entry. And, Barney, ifI'm caught and Uncle doesn't come in, hold the fort as long as you can.Don't make sorties; simply sit tight. The rainy season will be on ussoon, Imbono said, and Elbel's camp is so badly placed that when therains come he will be swamped. He may then get tired of the siege anddraw off. If he does, I should arrange with the two chiefs for a trekinto the forest. But if Elbel still presses the siege and food beginsto run short--it won't last for ever, you know--you had better choose adark night and make a dash out to the north-east. If you go quicklyyou'll get a good many hours' start before Elbel realizes what hashappened; and when once in the forest you may shake off pursuit. Ourrifles will form a rearguard."
"I'll do all that same, sorr. But I hope it will not be me fate to doit at all. I'd sooner be liftinant for iver, sorr."
Shortly after nightfall, Jack, Samba, and Lofembi the messenger, madetheir exit by the hole in the wall. Jack had wished to follow hisoriginal intention and leave by the northern gate, but Lofembiearnestly begged him not to do this, saying that he would not be ableto find the way if he
did not go out by the same gate that he hadentered. At the moment of departure Barney gripped Jack's hand.
"The blessed angels go wid ye, sorr, and bring poor ould master back insafety."
"Good-bye, Barney. Hope for the best, and remember--hold the fort."
It was slow work moving across the broken hilly country by night; butLofembi had previously pointed out to Samba the general direction inwhich they had to go, and the boy was able to keep a fairly straightcourse. They had to strike, said Lofembi, a path through the forestfollowing the course of the sun. Mr. Martindale's camp was pitchedclose to the path, not far from where two large trees had fallen acrossit. In about an hour they came to the outskirts of the forest in thatdirection, the course being in the main the same as that taken by Jacksome weeks previously on his buffalo hunt, but leaving the open countrysomewhat earlier. So far there had been no sign of the enemy.
Progress was even slower in the forest itself. More than once Lofembihalted in doubt; then after a whispered colloquy with Samba he startedagain, guiding himself by the stars seen through the tree tops. Savefor these whispered conversations not a word was spoken. Jack was toomuch absorbed in his mission, too anxious about his uncle, to have anyinclination to talk, even if the risk of coming upon a scout of Elbel'shad not been present to his mind.
At length the three came upon the narrow track Lofembi had beenseeking. Here they went in Indian file, the guide leading, Jack comingnext, then Samba. The path was so narrow and so beset by obstructionsthat walking was a toil. Sometimes Lofembi swerved to one side or theother to avoid a prickly bush; sometimes they had to clamber over afallen tree; more often the path wound round the obstacle. It seemedto Jack many hours since they started; in reality it was scarcely morethan three before they came upon the two fallen trees. Lofembi stopped.
"Small small now, massa," he whispered.
He gave a long low-pitched call. From the blackness on the left came asimilar call in reply. The guide moved forward, plunging boldly alonga narrow path--more narrow even than that by which they had reachedthis spot--in the direction of the sound. Jack was about to follow himwhen Samba touched him on the arm.
"Samba go first," said the boy.
"No, no," said Jack kindly. "We are all right; this is my place,Samba."
His heart beat faster under the stress of his emotion as he followedLofembi through the tangled undergrowth. How would he find his uncle?Was he very ill? Surely, surely, he was not in danger--he would notdie? Beads of sweat broke out upon Jack's brow as the terriblepossibility occurred to him. He went on almost blindly. Threeminutes' groping in the darkness brought them to a natural clearing, inwhich, by the dim light of the stars, Jack saw a couple of tents, and,some little distance from them, what appeared to be a number of roughlymade grass huts.
"Dis way, massa," said Lofembi, touching Jack on the arm.
"Which one?" said Jack in a low tone,
"Dat one," replied Lofembi, pointing to the nearer of the two huts.
He stepped forward into the clearing. At the same moment a score ofdusky forms rose and closed in stealthily from the undergrowth around.With a little cry Samba plucked Jack by the sleeve. But almostunconsciously he shook off the detaining hand, so full of anxiety washe. His uncle must be very ill, or he would be standing by the tent towelcome him. He sprang forward, stopped, and raised the flap of thetent. By the light of a small oil lamp swinging from the top he saw aform stretched upon a camp bed.
"Uncle! uncle!" he cried, falling on his knees by the side of theprostrate figure.
A low murmur answered him. At the same moment he heard a sighinggroan, as it were, from the entrance to the hut, and the sound of aheavy fall. Then the forest glade rang with fierce shouts and thecrack of a rifle. Jack rose to his feet, confused by this suddenturmoil coming when his nerves were overstrung. As he half turned, afigure came out of the darkness towards him.
"Good efening, Mr. Shalloner," said a smooth voice.
Jack started back.
"Yes, it is me--Guillaume Elbel, bien entendu!"
[1] Leopoldville.
Samba: A Story of the Rubber Slaves of the Congo Page 25
