CHAPTER XX
THE SMOKE READER
And now we must leave the floating canoe with its occupants and turnto the River Camp, where we left the Boy Aviators overcome withanxiety as to the fate of their young comrades. The situation wasindeed one calculated to try the stoutest heart. There was only onedrop of sweet in their cup of bitter.
Harry, poking about among the ruins of the deserted camp, haddiscovered several cans of gasoline that the raiders had overlooked.They formed sufficient fuel with the picric cakes that Frank stillhad a supply of, to drive the big aeroplane for several hundredmiles if the wind conditions were favorable.
But leave the river camp the boys dare not, for they realized thatif Billy and Lathrop did manage to make their escape, they would, ifpossible, come back there. True, it was a chance so remote as toappear almost impossible, but under the circumstances even theshadow of a hope seemed to assume substance. And so they waited,and had been waiting, while the stirring events we have related hadbeen happening to their missing chums.
As if to add to their oppression, old Sikaso mooned about the camp,his eyes rooted to the ground in moody absorption and muttering tohimself, "five go--three come back," till Frank angrily ordered himto stop. The realization that his gloomy prophecy seemed only toolikely to be fulfilled, however, did not tend to relieve thesituation.
"If we do not hear from them to-morrow, we shall be compelled totake to the air and fly to the coast," said Frank as they sat thatevening round a camp-fire which had been lighted to keep awaymarauding lions, whose roars ever and anon shook the forest. Atsuch times old Sikaso's eyes wandered longingly to his greatwar-axe. There is little doubt that he would have liked to work offhis gloomy feelings by tackling a lion single-handed with hisweapon.
"You think, then, it isn't worth while waiting if we have heard nonews by then?" asked Harry.
"It isn't that," said Frank in reply, "but we have not provisionsleft to more than tide us over another day. What the Arabs didn'tdestroy they spoiled."
Harry nodded his head silently.
Cruel necessity, it seemed, was to compel them to evacuate the camp,to which they still clung in the hope the lost adventurers mightreturn.
It was in vain Ben Stubbs cracked his jokes that night and relatedall sorts of droll sea yarns in the hope of cheering up his youngcompanions. For the first time since he had known them it looked asif the Boy Aviators had really lost all hope, and truly the factsseemed to warrant the stoutest-heart in the world being downcast--tosay the least.
Suddenly without a word old Sikaso left the fire and strode off intothe forest. He was gone for more than an hour and when he came backhis look of gloom had vanished. For him he was almost cheerful.
He swung his terrible axe in all sorts of fantastic evolutions andhummed to himself his grim chant with a fierce sort of joy.
"White boys, the smoke is going to tell me things to-night," heexclaimed suddenly. "When the moon reaches to the top of the sky Ishall tell you news of the four-eyed one and of the red-headed."
Impatiently they waited till the moon reached her zenith and thenwatched wonderingly while the old savage built a small fire ofsticks, over each one of which he mumbled something in African.
"What good does he suppose all this hocus-pocus is going to do us?"muttered Harry irritably, "as if an old fire could tell us anythingwe didn't know already. It's all rubbish, I say."
"I'm not so sure," remarked Frank thoughtfully. "We have alreadyseen something of what his skill can do and I don't mind letting himsee if he can't conjure up something to give us a ray of hope."
"Oh bosh, Frank," replied Harry, "if he ever did get anything rightthrough this rigmarole and hanky-panky it was simply because he hadgood luck. That's all."
"For my part, I've knocked around the world too much to be so cocksure of some things as some young chaps seem to be," put in BenStubbs, with a chuckle, looking up from the frying-pan that he wasscouring with sand.
Harry looked abashed and said nothing.
If old Sikaso had heard any of this colloquy he made no sign, butwith the face of a graven image went about his preparations. Slowlyhe struck the sparks from his never-failing flint and steel, and afew seconds later the little fire was sending up a blaze.
"Do you see anything?" asked Frank.
"Too soon now, wait till smoke come," he said, and resumed hisintense watching of the fire.
After a delay that seemed maddening, to two at least of the groupthat was watching, the old Krooman announced that all was ready.
Even Harry felt a thrill of interest as the old man began to spinslowly on his toes round the column of smoke, chanting slowly somestrange mixture of savage music which was, as Frank guessed, anincantation to the fetish that, as he believed, dwelt in the smoke.As the smoke grew thicker he cast some sort of powder from askin-bag into it and instantly a thick yellow column of vapor shotup.
The whole forest about seemed impregnated with the strong odor ofthe stuff and the boys' eyes smarted. Old Sikaso kept up his dance,bending lower and lower till it seemed that he must be actuallyinhaling the pungent, acrid smoke.
As this strange scene progressed, Frank felt his eyes begin to growdim and an unaccountable languor fill his limbs. His head swamround and he desired nothing so much as to lie down and sleep---andyet a compelling power forced him to keep his eyes fixed on thecolumn of smoke over which the aged Krooman was now stooping withoutspread hands.
Suddenly he gave a sharp cry--an exclamation almost of command.
"Look--look, white boys, and you, old man of the sea and the forestsof the far-off land, and I shall show you the magic of the sleepingheart of Africa."
With eyes that started from his head Frank gazed, in obedience to amajestic sweep of the African's hand, full into the ascending columnof yellowish smoke.
The languor the boy had felt at first had now quite left him and hewas only intent on seeing what was about to transpire.
Sikaso's voice once more rose in his dismal chant and he cast moreof the powder from his skin-bag into the fire. The smoke pillargrew to an immense size and, as he gazed at it, before Frank'samazed eyes a scene as strange to him as any he had ever set eyeson, began slowly to take shape.
There was a river edge with mighty banks at the summit of whichwaved fronds of tropical plants and in which huge beasts, that herecognized as hippopotami, wallowed and sputtered. An unhealthysteam arose from the banks and the river boiled angrily alongbetween its confines in a dark mud-colored flood.
So far the scene was not unlike the river in which he and Harry hadso nearly lost their lives, but as he gazed the details grewclearer, as if it had been a magic lantern view, growing by degreesstronger and every outline of the tropical view was suddenly throwninto strong relief.
All at once the boy uttered a sharp cry, which was echoed by hisbrother and Ben. Old Sikaso never moved a muscle but kept onchanting.
Into the center of the wonderful smoke picture there had swum acanoe.
And in it were seated Billy Barnes and Lathrop!
With them, too, was the figure of a venerable white bearded man whoseemed to be about to collapse. From time to time he raised himselffeebly and gazed ahead. Frank could see Billy at such times stoopforward and speak to him.
The boys' plight was evidently a terrible one.
Their clothes were ripped and torn and Billy's shirt scarcelycovered his body; which was a mass of cuts and scratches. A greatcloud of mosquitoes hung about the canoe, clearly maddening itsoccupants with their myriads of tiny stings. The faces of both theyoung navigators were drawn and lined with anxiety as they paddledahead in the turbulent current.
"See," cried Sikaso harshly, as the picture faded, "do the whiteboys still doubt?"
"No, no!" cried Harry. "Show us more, Sikaso."
The Krooman cast more of the magic powder into the dying fire andagain a thick pillar of smoke curled upward.
His low crooning chant then began once more.<
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As before the picture did not assume shape at once but swam, as itwere, slowly into view. This time the surroundings had changed.There was a look of agonized terror on the faces of all theoccupants of the canoe as she seemed to be literally hurled forwardupon a current that ran as swiftly as a mill race.
The frail craft rocked terribly and once or twice she shipped somewater that Lathrop instantly bailed out with a shallow earthen dish.
Frank could almost hear the roar of the water as he gazed in silentfascination on the mysterious pictures of the smoke.
And now the apprehension on the faces of the occupants of the canoewas agonizing to watch. Once Frank saw the old man arise as if tocast himself into the water rather than face what lay ahead, butLathrop instantly drew him back.
Again the picture died out and again the old Krooman threw on morepowder. As the smoke rolled up once more no one spoke. Thesituation was far too tense for that.
The scene now seemed to show that indeed all was over with theoccupants of the canoe. The frail craft was seen to be in a tunnelof rough stone through which the roaring vortex of the waters pouredwith such violence that the boys and their aged companion werecontinually drenched with spray. Lathrop had hard work to keep thecraft free of water now, and bailed incessantly. The old man was onhis knees his hands clasped and his lips moving as if in prayer.Billy, his face set, sat in the stern. Again and again with a quicktwist of his paddle he saved the canoe from annihilation in theboiling current.
It was an agonizing scene to watch, and to the onlookers it seemedas real as if they had been gazing at the peril itself instead ofits counterfeit presentment in smoke-pictures.
At last the walls of the tunnel were seen to widen out and thecurrent to move more slowly. Frank gave a sigh of relief which wasechoed by the others as the canoe emerged from the subterraneanriver into a broad lagoon with low banks covered with tropicalverdure and seemingly, from the absence of steaming vapors a healthyspot. But even as the canoe entered the quiet waters a great bodyprojected itself through the water followed by three other bulkyforms.
They were recognized instantly by the watchers as hippopotami.
The leader of the animals made straight for the canoe, and thewatchers trembled as they looked, for it was evident that one snapof the creatures' huge jaws would cave in the side of the canoe asif it were an eggshell.
With trembling excitement the Boy Aviators saw their youngcompanions with both paddles make desperately for the shore, butbefore they reached it one of the hippopotami intercepted them, andwith a charge of angry fury literally tossed the boat clean out ofthe water.
A second later the gazers at the smoke pictures saw the two missingadventurers and their aged unknown companion struggling in thewater. It seemed that all was over when a strange interruptionoccurred.
A long, dark horny head with two cruel eyes and rows of saw-liketeeth in its long jaws, sped through the waters. The hippopotamusturned savagely on the intruder and the two snapped savagely at eachother for several minutes when the crocodile, mortally wounded tojudge by the red swirl on the surface of the stream, made off.
But Billy and Lathrop were seen to have taken advantage of the briefbreathing spell it gave them. In a few strong strokes they had swumwith the aged man to shallow water and quickly waded ashore. Theywere safe then for the time being. But for how long?
Frank saw the two comrades gaze about them in despair at thewilderness of jungle that closed about them on every side. He sawthem cast horrified looks at each other at the situation in whichthey found themselves--lost in the trackless African forests.
The next minute the old man fell forward on his face and lay still.Whether he was dead or unconscious, Frank could not, of course,tell--and then the smoke died out, and the picture faded.
Boy Aviators in Africa; Or, an Aerial Ivory Trail Page 20
