Long Odds

by Harold Bindloss

  CHAPTER VII

  ORMSGILL KEEPS HIS WORD

  Forest and compound were wrapped in obscurity, and the night wasalmost insufferably hot, when Nares, who had arrived there during theafternoon, sat in a room of the Mission of Our Lady of Pity. Thelittle, heavily thatched dwelling stood with the mud-built church androws of adherents' huts on the shadowy frontier of the debatable landwhose dusky inhabitants were then plotting a grim retribution fortheir wrongs, and on the night in question black, impenetrabledarkness shut it in. Though the smell of wood smoke was still in thesteamy air, the cooking-fires had died out an hour ago, and there wasno sound from any of the clustering huts. Nares, who sat, gaunt andworn in face, by an open window, could not see one of them. Still, hewas looking out into the compound, and his attitude suggestedexpectancy. One could have fancied that he was listening forsomething.

  "My boys heard in the last village we stopped at that there wasanother party coming up behind us, and it's quite likely that thereis," he said. "The bushmen are generally right in these things. I'veseen a whole village clear out half a day before a section or two oftroops arrived, though it's hard to understand how they could possiblyhave known."

  Father Tiebout, who lay in a canvas chair with the perspirationtrickling down his forehead, smiled. "There are many other thingsbeyond our comprehension in this country," he said, with a trace ofdryness. "We have our senses and our reason. The negro has them, too,but he has something more--shall we call it the blind instinct ofself-preservation? It is, at least, certain that it is now and thennecessary to him. So you did not come by San Roque or the newoutpost?"

  "I did not. Still, how did you deduce it?"

  The priest spread out his hands. "It is simple. One does not find aninhabited village within easy reach of a fort, my friend. The causefor that is obvious. You are listening for the other party?"

  "Anyway, I was wondering whose it could be."

  Father Tiebout smiled. "If there is a white man with the boys it isThomas Ormsgill. I have been expecting him the last week. He will behere within the next two--if he is alive."

  He spoke with a quiet certainty, as though the matter admitted of nodoubt, and Nares added,

  "Yes," he said, "that is a man who keeps his promise, but you couldgive him another week. One knows when the mail-boats arrive, but theremight be difficulties when he got ashore. Anybody who wishes to goinland is apt to meet with a good many, especially if he isn't lookedupon with favor by the Administration."

  Father Tiebout said nothing further. It was almost too hot to talk,though the silence that brooded over the little gap in the forest wasunpleasantly impressive. It would not be broken until the moon roseand the beasts awoke. There were also times when Nares, who was not anervous man, felt a curious instinctive shrinking from the blacknessof the bush. It was too suggestive. One wondered what it hid, for thatis a land where the Powers of Darkness are apparently omnipotent. Itis filled with rapine and murder, and pestilence stalks through itunchecked.

  At last a faint sighing refrain stole out of the silence, sank intoit, and rose again, and Nares glanced at his companion, for herecognized that a band of carriers were marching towards the missionand singing to keep their courage up.

  "I think you're right. They're coast boys," Father Tiebout said.

  It was some ten minutes later when there was a patter of naked feet inthe compound, and a clamor from the huts. Then a white man walkedsomewhat wearily up the veranda stairway into the feeble stream oflight. It was characteristic that Nares was the first to shake handswith him, while Father Tiebout waited with a little quiet smile.Ormsgill turned towards the latter.

  "Have you a hut I can put the boys in? That's all they want," he said."They're fed. We stopped to light our fires at sunset."

  The greeting was not an effusive one in view of the difficulties andprivations of the journey, but neither of Ormsgill's companions hadexpected anything of that kind from him. It was also noticeable thatthere was none of the confusion and bustle that usually follows thearrival of a band of carriers. This was a man who went about all hedid quietly, and was willing to save his host inconvenience. Thepriest went with him to a hut, and the boys were disposed of in fiveminutes, and when they came back Ormsgill dropped into a chair.

  "Well," he said, "I'm here. Caught the first boat after I got yourletter. I think it was your letter, padre, though Nares signed it."

  "At least," said Father Tiebout, "we both foresaw the result of it.But you have had a long march. Is there anything I can offer you?"

  "A little cup of your black coffee," said Ormsgill.

  Nares laughed softly. "He's a priest, as well as a Belgian. I believethey teach them self-restraint," he added. "Still, when I saw youwalking up that stairway I felt I could have forgiven him if he hadflung his arms about your neck."

  "You see I had expected him," and Father Tiebout set about lighting aspirit lamp.

  "With a little contrivance one can burn rum in it," he added. "Thereare times when I wish it was a furnace."

  Ormsgill smiled and shook his head. "You and other well meaningpersons occasionally go the wrong way to work, padre," he said. "Wouldyou pile up the Hamburg gin merchants' profits, or encourage the folkshere to build new sugar factories? You can't stop the trade inquestion while the soil is fruitful and the African is what he is."

  "What the white man has made him," said Father Tiebout.

  "I believe the nigger knew how to produce tolerably heady liquors andindulged in them before the white man brought his first gin case in,"said Ormsgill reflectively. "In any case, Lamartine was a trader,which is, after all, a slightly less disastrous profession to theniggers here than a government officer, and I did what I could forhim. From your point of view I've no doubt I acquired a certainresponsibility. Could you do anything useful with L200 or L300sterling, padre?"

  "Ah," said the little priest, "one cannot buy absolution."

  Nares smiled. It was seldom he let slip an opportunity of inveiglingFather Tiebout into a good-humored discussion on a point of this kind."I fancied it was only we others who held that view," he said. Then heturned to Ormsgill. "He is forgetting, or, perhaps, breaking loosefrom his traditions. After all, one does break away in Africa. It ispossible it was intended that one should do so."

  "Still," persisted Ormsgill, "with L300 sterling one could, no doubt,do something."

  Father Tiebout, who ignored Nares' observations, tinkered with hislamp before he turned to Ormsgill with a little light in his eyes."Taking the value of a man's body at just what it is just now onecould, perhaps, win twenty human souls. Of these three or four couldbe sent back into the darkness when we were sure of them. Ah," andthere was a little thrill in his voice, "if one had only two or threeto continue the sowing with."

  "In this land," said Ormsgill, "the reaper is Death. Their comradeswould certainly sell them to somebody or spear them in the bush. Thepriests of the Powers of Darkness would see they did it."

  "Where that seed is once sown there must be a propagation. One canburn the plant with fire or cut it down, but it springs from the rootagain, or a grain or two with the germ of life indestructible in itremains. Flung far by scorching winds or swept by bitter floods, oneof those grains finds a resting place where the soil is fertile. Herea little and there a little, that crop is always spreading."

  Ormsgill turned to Nares. "You could do something with the sum alludedto?"

  Nares shook his head, and there was a shadow of pain in his lean face."I am not fixed as Father Tiebout is," he said. "His faith is theofficial one. They dare not steal his followers from him. Besides, Ihave never bought the body of a man. Sometimes I heal them, and ifthey are grateful they are driven away from me." He broke off for amoment with a curious little laugh. "I am an empty voice in thedarkness that very few dare listen to. Still, I will take a case ofLondon packed drugs from you."

  The Belgian spread his thin hands out. "Four villages snatched fromthe pestilence! It was his care that saved them. How many m
en's bodieshe has healed he can not tell you, but I think that a careful count iskept of all of them."

  "Well," said Ormsgill quietly, "there is L600 to your joint credit inLisbon. You should get the bank advices when the next mail comes in.You can apportion it between you."

  Nares stood up with a flush in his worn face, and spoke awkwardly, butFather Tiebout sat very still. A little glow crept into his eyes, andhe said a few words in the Latin tongue. Then Ormsgill thrust hischair back noisily and moved towards the lamp.

  "I almost think that coffee should be ready," he said.

  Father Tiebout served it out, and when the cups were laid aside Nareslooked at Ormsgill with a little smile.

  "You have not been long away, but one could fancy you were glad to getback again," he said.

  Ormsgill's face hardened. "In some respects I am. The folks I belongedto were not the same. My views seemed to pain them. It cost them aneffort to bear with me. Still, that was perhaps no more than natural.One loses touch with the things he has been used to in this country."

  "Sometimes," said Father Tiebout, "one grows out of it, and that is alittle different. Our friend yonder once went home, too, but now Ithink he will stay here altogether, as I shall do, unless I am sentelsewhere."

  Nares smiled. "The padre is right, as usual. I went home--and thefolks I had longed for 'most broke my heart between them. It seemedthat I was a failure, and that hurt me. They wanted results, the taleof souls, and I hadn't one that I was sure of to offer as a trophy.One, they said, could heal men's bodies in America. As you say, onefalls out of line in Africa."

  There was a wistfulness which he could not quite repress in his voice,and Ormsgill nodded sympathetically.

  "Oh," he said, "I know. It hurts hard for awhile. We are most of usthe cast-offs and the mutineers here. Still, in one respect, Isometimes think Father Tiebout's people are wiser. They don't ask forresults."

  The little priest once more spread his hands out. "The results," hesaid, "will appear some day, but that is not our concern. It issufficient that a man should do the work that is set out for him. Andnow we will be practical. Have you any news of Herrero?"

  "He is a hundred miles north of us in Ugalla's country, and I am goingon there. You will have to find me a few more carriers. It was MissFiguera told me."

  "Perhaps one can expect a little now Dom Clemente is in authority. Heis honest as men go in Africa, and at least he is a soldier. Well, youshall have the carriers in a week or so."

  Ormsgill laughed. "I want them to-morrow. There is a good deal to do.I have the boys Domingo stole to trace when I have bought the womanback from Herrero."

  "Bought!" said Father Tiebout with a twinkle in his eyes. "If Herrerois not willing to sell?"

  "Then," said Ormsgill dryly, "I shall have considerable pleasure inmaking him."

  He stretched himself wearily with a little yawn. "And now we will talkabout other matters."

  It was an hour later when he retired to rest and, hot as it was, sankinto sound sleep within ten minutes, but although he rose early androused the little priest to somewhat unusual activity, several dayshad passed before his new carriers were collected and ready to march.They were sturdy, half-naked pagans, and appeared astonished when hegave them instructions in a few words of the bush tongue and bore withtheir slow comprehension instead of applying the stick to their duskyskin, which was what they had somewhat naturally expected from a whiteman.

  He shook hands with Nares and Father Tiebout in the sloppy compoundearly one morning when the mists were streaming from the drippingforest, and looked at the little priest with a twinkle in his eyes.

  "I haven't asked you how you got those boys," he said. "Still, it musthave cost you something to secure the good will of whoever had theprivilege of supplying them."

  He turned to Nares as if to invite his opinion, which wasunhesitatingly offered him. The latter, at least, would make nocompromise.

  "It certainly did," he said. "I am glad you did not ask me to hire youthe boys. The system under which he obtained them is an iniquity."

  Father Tiebout smiled. "The object, I think, was a pious one. One hasto use the means available."

  "Anyway," said Ormsgill, "the responsibility and the cost is mine."

  The priest shook his head. "At least, you can take this gift from me,"he said. "It is not much, but one does with pleasure what he can."

  It was offered in such a fashion that Ormsgill could only make hisgrateful acknowledgments, though he had grounds for surmising that thegift would cost the giver months of stringent self-denial, and therewas already very little sign of luxury at the Mission. Then he calledto his carriers, who swung out of the compound with their burdens insingle file, slipping and splashing in the mire. The two men he hadleft behind stood watching them until the last strip of flutteringcotton had vanished into the misty forest when Father Tiebout lookedat his companion with a little smile.

  "One could consider the venture our friend has undertaken a folly, butstill I think he will succeed," he said. "One could almost fancy thatthe Powers above us hold the men who attempt such follies in theirspecial keeping."

  Nares, as it happened, had been almost uncomfortably stirred duringthe last ten minutes, but he was Puritan to the backbone, and usuallyendeavored, at least, to prevent what he felt carrying him away. Hewas also as a rule ready to join issue with the little priest on anypoint that afforded him an opportunity.

  "There is a difficulty," he said. "I'm not sure he would admit theexistence of all the Powers you believe in. There are so many of them.One would fancy that faith was necessary."

  Father Tiebout smiled at him again. "Ah," he said, "they who knoweverything have doubtless a wide charity."