Harry Milvaine; Or, The Wanderings of a Wayward Boy

by Gordon Stables

these things of mine away intothe interior to that happy hunting-ground of his, to swop them awayalong with myself to the drunken old king for slaves. Yes, and theywould have stripped me of the uniform I now wear, and given me an oldcow's hide instead with the horns stuck over my brow and the tailhanging down behind. Oh! Mr Mahmoud, but I have spoiled your fun.But there they are, goodness be praised, and I must not be too hard onold Mahmie after all, for he did save my life."

  Nanungamanoo laughed a sneering laugh.

  "You were too valuable to burn," he said.

  "Do you really suppose then, my worthy Nanungamanoo, that Mahmoud lookedupon the matter as a commercial transaction?"

  "Now you speak Hindustanee. I do not know."

  "Never mind, make up the bundle again, and let us trudge. From theposition of the moon it must be getting on towards morning."

  Nanungamanoo held up three fingers and proceeded with his work.

  "Three o'clock, is it? Well, heave round, let us up anchor and be off."

  After re-establishing his valuable pack, Nanungamanoo carefullycollected the bones of the feast and threw them under a bush, and wasproceeding to obliterate the marks they had made on the withered grassby raising it again with his foot, when a twig cracked in a neighbouringthicket. Both Harry and Nanungamanoo speedily clutched their rifles.

  Almost immediately after a black and nearly naked figure emerged slowlyinto the moonlight, and stood at some little distance, holding up onearm across his face as if to protect it from the blow of the bulletNanungamanoo would have fired, but Harry thrust his arm up.

  Then Raggy Muffin advanced.

  "Golla-mussy, massa! What for you want to shoot poor Raggy?"

  "But, Raggy," cried Harry, "in the name of mystery how came you here?"

  "I came, massa, to cut your cords ob bondage, all same as de littlemouse cut de cords ob de great big lion."

  "But where did you come from, Raggy? Sit down, poor boy, your cheeksare thin, sit down and pick a bone."

  "No, no, massa, not here, not here. Dey am all alive in Mahmoud's camp,I can 'ssure you ob dat."

  "You came through there?"

  "I came to cut your cords ob bondage, massa."

  "Well?"

  "Well, den I see dat de bird hab flown."

  "Yes, Raggy."

  "Den I pick up ebery ting I see lying about handy, massa. Den I followyour trail."

  "Ha! ha! ha! So you've been looting too, have you? Well, Raggy, getyour parcel and let us be off. Lead on, Nanungamanoo."

  "La! massa," said Raggy, grinning all over, "suppose I hab one long namelike dat nigger, I cut it all up into leetle pieces, and hab one forebery day in de week."

  The march was now recommenced.

  The Somali trode gingerly on ahead, picking his way through the flowerysward, as if afraid to leave the slightest trail.

  Harry and Raggy came up behind.

  It was evident the Somali was now making a _detour_; at all events theyshortly found themselves at the river, which was here broad and shallow.This they forded, taking care to keep their packs and rifles dry.

  Into a weird-looking bit of forest they now plunged.

  A weird-looking forest indeed. Every tree seemed an ogre in themoonlight. Yet the air was heavily odorous with the sweet breath ofsome species of mimosa bloom, and the ground was for the most part freefrom undergrowth.

  The forest grew darker and darker as they proceeded, and they could heara lion growl in the distance. He was far away, yet Harry clutched hisrifle and drew little Raggy close up to his side.

  He was not sorry when the moonlight shone down on them once more throughthe branches of a baobab tree. Here they stopped to breathe.

  On again, and now the way began to ascend, still in the forest, andstill comparatively in the gloom.

  Up and up and up they went. It was quite a mountain for this district.At last the trees and then the bushes deserted them; then they were onthe bluff, and Harry turned round to look.

  Why, away down yonder--close under them it appeared--they could see theblazing camp-fire of Mahmoud's caravan.

  "Are we not too near, Nanungamanoo?"

  "No. They will not stir till daylight Arabs are not brave at night.When they do start they will go towards the sun. We will wait and watchand see."

  And so it fell out, for no sooner had the clouds begun to turn brightyellow and crimson than the stir commenced in the camp.

  Somalis ran hither and thither, it is true.

  The babel of voices was terrible.

  Mahmoud himself was here, there, and everywhere, and the whacks hefreely dealt his soldiers with a bamboo cane were audible even to ourfriends on the hill-top. But when all was said and done, the caravanstarted back towards the coast, and in a few minutes there was silenceall over the beautiful landscape.

  Book 3--CHAPTER FOUR.

  IN AFRICAN WILDS--ADVENTURE WITH A LION.

  A little way down the hill, and looking towards the north, was a cave inthe rocks, and a cool delightful corner our friends found it, soon asthe sun "got some weigh" on him, and his beams no longer slanted overthe plain.

  While Raggy was eating his modest breakfast Harry went some distanceapart, and, taking out a little Book--it was a gift from his mother--heread a portion where a leaf was turned down.

  Seems funny that a boy should carry a Bible with him, does it not?Well, reader, I can tell you this much: I have known many and many asailor boy do so, and I never found that they were a bit the worse forit.

  Mind you this, I have no patience with superstition, and I do hate cant;nor do I for a moment mean to say that our Book acts as a kind ofamulet: but putting the matter in a plain, practical, common sense kindof a way, you and I have both immortal souls, you know, and we want tobe guided how to save them. Well, the Book tells us the way. But thatis not all. In times of danger--and a sailor comes across these prettyoften--a blink into the Bible often gives a fellow heartening. You openit probably at the very passage that does so, and, even if you do not,you know where to find such passage.

  And this _does_ do good. Oh! I have proved it over and over again. Ihave a little old Book there that I have carried about the world foryears and years. It has many a dog's-ear, but they are intentional, foreach one marks a passage, and to every dog's-ear a story is attached.All point to little crumbs of comfort I have had in scenes of danger oreven pestilence--here and there in many lands. Some day, if spared, Imean to write the story of this particular old Book of mine, and I donot think it will be devoid of interest to those who may care to peruseit.

  But there! I am digressing, and I humbly beg my readers pardon; it wasall owing to Harry's getting away, in behind that bit of tangled scrub,in order to perform his morning devotions. Well, the truth is he didfeel very, very grateful to be free.

  But stay, will he be able to retain that freedom? And this brings meback to my tale.

  He went back to the place where he had left Raggy enjoying the leg of afowl.

  The boy was sitting near the mouth of the cave.

  "Enjoyed it, Raggy?"

  "Ah!" and Raggy smacked his lips and rolled his eyes, "he am plenty muchsweet, massa."

  "There's a wing there too, Raggy. There you are, have that."

  "Tank you, massa. You am bery good, massa."

  I dare say Raggy would have eaten a whole fowl had it been offered tohim. After all African fowls are not very big, nor very fat; but verymatter-of-fact and self-possessed--that is their moral character.

  I have gone into an African village in the evening, just as the fowlswere all going to roost in the trees, my object being to buy half adozen for the pot. As soon as the natives were convinced that the whiteman had not come to eat a baby, but that he really wanted to buy"tuck-tuck-chow-chow," and had copper money in his hand to pay for thedainty, then all hands would turn out, and such a hunt you never saw,and such fluttering of wings and skraiching. I have felt sorry for thefowls.

  When I got what I
wanted, the rest of the "tuck-tucks" would go quietlyto roost again as if nothing had happened. I envy such equanimity.

  I remember that two fowls got loose in the boat once. It was blowingstiff, and the white spray was dashing over us. Well, any other birdswould have jumped overboard. Not so these African fowls. They simplygot on the gun'ale, and, as soon as the squall was over, coollycommenced to arrange their feathers. This regard for personalappearance in a scene of such danger--for they must have known they weregoing to pot--is something that one does not know whether most to admireor wonder at.

  Having fully satisfied the needs of nature, Raggy was prepared to givesome little account of his adventures. Briefly they were as follows,and in Raggy's own language.

  "You see, massa, befoh de sun rise on dat drefful night on de shore, deSomali Indians, all plenty well-armed, plenty big knife, plenty spearand gun, dey come