Chapter 18
Meriem and Bwana were sitting on the verandah together the followingday when a horseman appeared in the distance riding across the plaintoward the bungalow. Bwana shaded his eyes with his hand and gazed outtoward the oncoming rider. He was puzzled. Strangers were few inCentral Africa. Even the blacks for a distance of many miles in everydirection were well known to him. No white man came within a hundredmiles that word of his coming did not reach Bwana long before thestranger. His every move was reported to the big Bwana--just whatanimals he killed and how many of each species, how he killed them,too, for Bwana would not permit the use of prussic acid or strychnine;and how he treated his "boys."
Several European sportsmen had been turned back to the coast by the bigEnglishman's orders because of unwarranted cruelty to their blackfollowers, and one, whose name had long been heralded in civilizedcommunities as that of a great sportsman, was driven from Africa withorders never to return when Bwana found that his big bag of fourteenlions had been made by the diligent use of poisoned bait.
The result was that all good sportsmen and all the natives loved andrespected him. His word was law where there had never been law before.There was scarce a head man from coast to coast who would not heed thebig Bwana's commands in preference to those of the hunters who employedthem, and so it was easy to turn back any undesirable stranger--Bwanahad simply to threaten to order his boys to desert him.
But there was evidently one who had slipped into the countryunheralded. Bwana could not imagine who the approaching horseman mightbe. After the manner of frontier hospitality the globe round he metthe newcomer at the gate, welcoming him even before he had dismounted.He saw a tall, well knit man of thirty or over, blonde of hair andsmooth shaven. There was a tantalizing familiarity about him thatconvinced Bwana that he should be able to call the visitor by name, yethe was unable to do so. The newcomer was evidently of Scandinavianorigin--both his appearance and accent denoted that. His manner wasrough but open. He made a good impression upon the Englishman, who waswont to accept strangers in this wild and savage country at their ownvaluation, asking no questions and assuming the best of them until theyproved themselves undeserving of his friendship and hospitality.
"It is rather unusual that a white man comes unheralded," he said, asthey walked together toward the field into which he had suggested thatthe traveler might turn his pony. "My friends, the natives, keep usrather well-posted."
"It is probably due to the fact that I came from the south," explainedthe stranger, "that you did not hear of my coming. I have seen novillage for several marches."
"No, there are none to the south of us for many miles," replied Bwana."Since Kovudoo deserted his country I rather doubt that one could finda native in that direction under two or three hundred miles."
Bwana was wondering how a lone white man could have made his waythrough the savage, unhospitable miles that lay toward the south. Asthough guessing what must be passing through the other's mind, thestranger vouchsafed an explanation.
"I came down from the north to do a little trading and hunting," hesaid, "and got way off the beaten track. My head man, who was the onlymember of the safari who had ever before been in the country, took sickand died. We could find no natives to guide us, and so I simply swungback straight north. We have been living on the fruits of our guns forover a month. Didn't have an idea there was a white man within athousand miles of us when we camped last night by a water hole at theedge of the plain. This morning I started out to hunt and saw thesmoke from your chimney, so I sent my gun bearer back to camp with thegood news and rode straight over here myself. Of course I've heard ofyou--everybody who comes into Central Africa does--and I'd be mightyglad of permission to rest up and hunt around here for a couple ofweeks."
"Certainly," replied Bwana. "Move your camp up close to the riverbelow my boys' camp and make yourself at home."
They had reached the verandah now and Bwana was introducing thestranger to Meriem and My Dear, who had just come from the bungalow'sinterior.
"This is Mr. Hanson," he said, using the name the man had given him."He is a trader who has lost his way in the jungle to the south."
My Dear and Meriem bowed their acknowledgments of the introduction.The man seemed rather ill at ease in their presence. His hostattributed this to the fact that his guest was unaccustomed to thesociety of cultured women, and so found a pretext to quickly extricatehim from his seemingly unpleasant position and lead him away to hisstudy and the brandy and soda which were evidently much lessembarrassing to Mr. Hanson.
When the two had left them Meriem turned toward My Dear.
"It is odd," she said, "but I could almost swear that I had known Mr.Hanson in the past. It is odd, but quite impossible," and she gave thematter no further thought.
Hanson did not accept Bwana's invitation to move his camp closer to thebungalow. He said his boys were inclined to be quarrelsome, and sowere better off at a distance; and he, himself, was around but little,and then always avoided coming into contact with the ladies. A factwhich naturally aroused only laughing comment on the rough trader'sbashfulness. He accompanied the men on several hunting trips wherethey found him perfectly at home and well versed in all the finerpoints of big game hunting. Of an evening he often spent much timewith the white foreman of the big farm, evidently finding in thesociety of this rougher man more common interests than the culturedguests of Bwana possessed for him. So it came that his was a familiarfigure about the premises by night. He came and went as he saw fit,often wandering along in the great flower garden that was the especialpride and joy of My Dear and Meriem. The first time that he had beensurprised there he apologized gruffly, explaining that he had alwaysbeen fond of the good old blooms of northern Europe which My Dear hadso successfully transplanted in African soil.
Was it, though, the ever beautiful blossoms of hollyhocks and phloxthat drew him to the perfumed air of the garden, or that otherinfinitely more beautiful flower who wandered often among the bloomsbeneath the great moon--the black-haired, suntanned Meriem?
For three weeks Hanson had remained. During this time he said that hisboys were resting and gaining strength after their terrible ordeals inthe untracked jungle to the south; but he had not been as idle as heappeared to have been. He divided his small following into twoparties, entrusting the leadership of each to men whom he believed thathe could trust. To them he explained his plans and the rich rewardthat they would win from him if they carried his designs to asuccessful conclusion. One party he moved very slowly northward alongthe trail that connects with the great caravan routes entering theSahara from the south. The other he ordered straight westward withorders to halt and go into permanent camp just beyond the great riverwhich marks the natural boundary of the country that the big Bwanarightfully considers almost his own.
To his host he explained that he was moving his safari slowly towardthe north--he said nothing of the party moving westward. Then, oneday, he announced that half his boys had deserted, for a hunting partyfrom the bungalow had come across his northerly camp and he feared thatthey might have noticed the reduced numbers of his following.
And thus matters stood when, one hot night, Meriem, unable to sleep,rose and wandered out into the garden. The Hon. Morison had beenurging his suit once more that evening, and the girl's mind was in sucha turmoil that she had been unable to sleep.
The wide heavens about her seemed to promise a greater freedom fromdoubt and questioning. Baynes had urged her to tell him that she lovedhim. A dozen times she thought that she might honestly give him theanswer that he demanded. Korak fast was becoming but a memory. Thathe was dead she had come to believe, since otherwise he would havesought her out. She did not know that he had even better reason tobelieve her dead, and that it was because of that belief he had made noeffort to find her after his raid upon the village of Kovudoo.
Behind a great flowering shrub Hanson lay gazing at the stars andwaiting. He had lain thus
and there many nights before. For what washe waiting, or for whom? He heard the girl approaching, and halfraised himself to his elbow. A dozen paces away, the reins looped overa fence post, stood his pony.
Meriem, walking slowly, approached the bush behind which the waiterlay. Hanson drew a large bandanna handkerchief from his pocket androse stealthily to his knees. A pony neighed down at the corrals. Farout across the plain a lion roared. Hanson changed his position untilhe squatted upon both feet, ready to come erect quickly.
Again the pony neighed--this time closer. There was the sound of hisbody brushing against shrubbery. Hanson heard and wondered how theanimal had gotten from the corral, for it was evident that he wasalready in the garden. The man turned his head in the direction of thebeast. What he saw sent him to the ground, huddled close beneath theshrubbery--a man was coming, leading two ponies.
Meriem heard now and stopped to look and listen. A moment later theHon. Morison Baynes drew near, the two saddled mounts at his heels.
Meriem looked up at him in surprise. The Hon. Morison grinnedsheepishly.
"I couldn't sleep," he explained, "and was going for a bit of a ridewhen I chanced to see you out here, and I thought you'd like to joinme. Ripping good sport, you know, night riding. Come on."
Meriem laughed. The adventure appealed to her.
"All right," she said.
Hanson swore beneath his breath. The two led their horses from thegarden to the gate and through it. There they discovered Hanson'smount.
"Why here's the trader's pony," remarked Baynes.
"He's probably down visiting with the foreman," said Meriem.
"Pretty late for him, isn't it?" remarked the Hon. Morison. "I'd hateto have to ride back through that jungle at night to his camp."
As though to give weight to his apprehensions the distant lion roaredagain. The Hon. Morison shivered and glanced at the girl to note theeffect of the uncanny sound upon her. She appeared not to have noticedit.
A moment later the two had mounted and were moving slowly across themoon-bathed plain. The girl turned her pony's head straight toward thejungle. It was in the direction of the roaring of the hungry lion.
"Hadn't we better steer clear of that fellow?" suggested the Hon.Morison. "I guess you didn't hear him."
"Yes, I heard him," laughed Meriem. "Let's ride over and call on him."
The Hon. Morison laughed uneasily. He didn't care to appear at adisadvantage before this girl, nor did he care, either, to approach ahungry lion too closely at night. He carried his rifle in his saddleboot; but moonlight is an uncertain light to shoot by, nor ever had hefaced a lion alone--even by day. The thought gave him a distinctnausea. The beast ceased his roaring now. They heard him no more andthe Hon. Morison gained courage accordingly. They were riding downwind toward the jungle. The lion lay in a little swale to their right.He was old. For two nights he had not fed, for no longer was hischarge as swift or his spring as mighty as in the days of his primewhen he spread terror among the creatures of his wild domain. For twonights and days he had gone empty, and for long time before that he hadfed only upon carrion. He was old; but he was yet a terrible engine ofdestruction.
At the edge of the forest the Hon. Morison drew rein. He had no desireto go further. Numa, silent upon his padded feet, crept into thejungle beyond them. The wind, now, was blowing gently between him andhis intended prey. He had come a long way in search of man, for evenin his youth he had tasted human flesh and while it was poor stuff bycomparison with eland and zebra it was less difficult to kill. InNuma's estimation man was a slow-witted, slow-footed creature whichcommanded no respect unless accompanied by the acrid odor which spelledto the monarch's sensitive nostrils the great noise and the blindingflash of an express rifle.
He caught the dangerous scent tonight; but he was ravenous to madness.He would face a dozen rifles, if necessary, to fill his empty belly.He circled about into the forest that he might again be down wind fromhis victims, for should they get his scent he could not hope toovertake them. Numa was famished; but he was old and crafty.
Deep in the jungle another caught faintly the scent of man and of Numaboth. He raised his head and sniffed. He cocked it upon one side andlistened.
"Come on," said Meriem, "let's ride in a way--the forest is wonderfulat night. It is open enough to permit us to ride."
The Hon. Morison hesitated. He shrank from revealing his fear in thepresence of the girl. A braver man, sure of his own position, wouldhave had the courage to have refused uselessly to expose the girl todanger. He would not have thought of himself at all; but the egotismof the Hon. Morison required that he think always of self first. Hehad planned the ride to get Meriem away from the bungalow. He wantedto talk to her alone and far enough away so should she take offense athis purposed suggestion he would have time in which to attempt to righthimself in her eyes before they reached home. He had little doubt, ofcourse, but that he should succeed; but it is to his credit that he didhave some slight doubts.
"You needn't be afraid of the lion," said Meriem, noting his slighthesitancy. "There hasn't been a man eater around here for two years,Bwana says, and the game is so plentiful that there is no necessity todrive Numa to human flesh. Then, he has been so often hunted that herather keeps out of man's way."
"Oh, I'm not afraid of lions," replied the Hon. Morison. "I was justthinking what a beastly uncomfortable place a forest is to ride in.What with the underbrush and the low branches and all that, you know,it's not exactly cut out for pleasure riding."
"Let's go a-foot then," suggested Meriem, and started to dismount.
"Oh, no," cried the Hon. Morison, aghast at this suggestion. "Let'sride," and he reined his pony into the dark shadows of the wood.Behind him came Meriem and in front, prowling ahead waiting a favorableopportunity, skulked Numa, the lion.
Out upon the plain a lone horseman muttered a low curse as he saw thetwo disappear from sight. It was Hanson. He had followed them fromthe bungalow. Their way led in the direction of his camp, so he had aready and plausible excuse should they discover him; but they had notseen him for they had not turned their eyes behind.
Now he turned directly toward the spot at which they had entered thejungle. He no longer cared whether he was observed or not. There weretwo reasons for his indifference. The first was that he saw in Baynes'act a counterpart of his own planned abduction of the girl. In someway he might turn the thing to his own purposes. At least he wouldkeep in touch with them and make sure that Baynes did not get her. Hisother reason was based on his knowledge of an event that had transpiredat his camp the previous night--an event which he had not mentioned atthe bungalow for fear of drawing undesired attention to his movementsand bringing the blacks of the big Bwana into dangerous intercoursewith his own boys. He had told at the bungalow that half his men haddeserted. That story might be quickly disproved should his boys andBwana's grow confidential.
The event that he had failed to mention and which now urged himhurriedly after the girl and her escort had occurred during his absenceearly the preceding evening. His men had been sitting around theircamp fire, entirely encircled by a high, thorn boma, when, without theslightest warning, a huge lion had leaped amongst them and seized oneof their number. It had been solely due to the loyalty and courage ofhis comrades that his life had been saved, and then only after a battleroyal with the hunger-enraged beast had they been able to drive him offwith burning brands, spears, and rifles.
From this Hanson knew that a man eater had wandered into the districtor been developed by the aging of one of the many lions who ranged theplains and hills by night, or lay up in the cool wood by day. He hadheard the roaring of a hungry lion not half an hour before, and therewas little doubt in his mind but that the man eater was stalking Meriemand Baynes. He cursed the Englishman for a fool, and spurred rapidlyafter them.
Meriem and Baynes had drawn up in a small, natural clearing. A hundredyards beyond them Numa lay c
rouching in the underbrush, hisyellow-green eyes fixed upon his prey, the tip of his sinuous tailjerking spasmodically. He was measuring the distance between him andthem. He was wondering if he dared venture a charge, or should he waityet a little longer in the hope that they might ride straight into hisjaws. He was very hungry; but also was he very crafty. He could notchance losing his meat by a hasty and ill-considered rush. Had hewaited the night before until the blacks slept he would not have beenforced to go hungry for another twenty-four hours.
Behind him the other that had caught his scent and that of man togethercame to a sitting posture upon the branch of a tree in which he hadreposed himself for slumber. Beneath him a lumbering gray hulk swayedto and fro in the darkness. The beast in the tree uttered a lowguttural and dropped to the back of the gray mass. He whispered a wordin one of the great ears and Tantor, the elephant, raised his trunkaloft, swinging it high and low to catch the scent that the word hadwarned him of. There was another whispered word--was it acommand?--and the lumbering beast wheeled into an awkward, yet silentshuffle, in the direction of Numa, the lion, and the strangerTarmangani his rider had scented.
Onward they went, the scent of the lion and his prey becoming strongerand stronger. Numa was becoming impatient. How much longer must hewait for his meat to come his way? He lashed his tail viciously now.He almost growled. All unconscious of their danger the man and thegirl sat talking in the little clearing.
Their horses were pressed side by side. Baynes had found Meriem's handand was pressing it as he poured words of love into her ear, and Meriemwas listening.
"Come to London with me," urged the Hon. Morison. "I can gather asafari and we can be a whole day upon the way to the coast before theyguess that we have gone."
"Why must we go that way?" asked the girl. "Bwana and My Dear wouldnot object to our marriage."
"I cannot marry you just yet," explained the Hon. Morison, "there aresome formalities to be attended to first--you do not understand. Itwill be all right. We will go to London. I cannot wait. If you loveme you will come. What of the apes you lived with? Did they botherabout marriage? They love as we love. Had you stayed among them youwould have mated as they mate. It is the law of nature--no man-madelaw can abrogate the laws of God. What difference does it make if welove one another? What do we care for anyone in the world besidesourselves? I would give my life for you--will you give nothing for me?"
"You love me?" she said. "You will marry me when we have reachedLondon?"
"I swear it," he cried.
"I will go with you," she whispered, "though I do not understand why itis necessary." She leaned toward him and he took her in his arms andbent to press his lips to hers.
At the same instant the head of a huge tusker poked through the treesthat fringed the clearing. The Hon. Morison and Meriem, with eyes andears for one another alone, did not see or hear; but Numa did. The manupon Tantor's broad head saw the girl in the man's arms. It was Korak;but in the trim figure of the neatly garbed girl he did not recognizehis Meriem. He only saw a Tarmangani with his she. And then Numacharged.
With a frightful roar, fearful lest Tantor had come to frighten awayhis prey, the great beast leaped from his hiding place. The earthtrembled to his mighty voice. The ponies stood for an instanttransfixed with terror. The Hon. Morison Baynes went white and cold.The lion was charging toward them full in the brilliant light of themagnificent moon. The muscles of the Hon. Morison no longer obeyedhis will--they flexed to the urge of a greater power--the power ofNature's first law. They drove his spurred heels deep into his pony'sflanks, they bore the rein against the brute's neck that wheeled himwith an impetuous drive toward the plain and safety.
The girl's pony, squealing in terror, reared and plunged upon the heelsof his mate. The lion was close upon him. Only the girl was cool--thegirl and the half-naked savage who bestrode the neck of his mightymount and grinned at the exciting spectacle chance had staked for hisenjoyment.
To Korak here were but two strange Tarmangani pursued by Numa, who wasempty. It was Numa's right to prey; but one was a she. Korak felt anintuitive urge to rush to her protection. Why, he could not guess.All Tarmangani were enemies now. He had lived too long a beast to feelstrongly the humanitarian impulses that were inherent in him--yet feelthem he did, for the girl at least.
He urged Tantor forward. He raised his heavy spear and hurled it atthe flying target of the lion's body. The girl's pony had reached thetrees upon the opposite side of the clearing. Here he would becomeeasy prey to the swiftly moving lion; but Numa, infuriated, preferredthe woman upon his back. It was for her he leaped.
Korak gave an exclamation of astonishment and approval as Numa landedupon the pony's rump and at the same instant the girl swung free of hermount to the branches of a tree above her.
Korak's spear struck Numa in the shoulder, knocking him from hisprecarious hold upon the frantically plunging horse. Freed of theweight of both girl and lion the pony raced ahead toward safety. Numatore and struck at the missile in his shoulder but could not dislodgeit. Then he resumed the chase.
Korak guided Tantor into the seclusion of the jungle. He did not wishto be seen, nor had he.
Hanson had almost reached the wood when he heard the lion's terrificroars, and knew that the charge had come. An instant later the Hon.Morison broke upon his vision, racing like mad for safety. The man layflat upon his pony's back hugging the animal's neck tightly with botharms and digging the spurs into his sides. An instant later the secondpony appeared--riderless.
Hanson groaned as he guessed what had happened out of sight in thejungle. With an oath he spurred on in the hope of driving the lionfrom his prey--his rifle was ready in his hand. And then the lion cameinto view behind the girl's pony. Hanson could not understand. Heknew that if Numa had succeeded in seizing the girl he would not havecontinued in pursuit of the others.
He drew in his own mount, took quick aim and fired. The lion stoppedin his tracks, turned and bit at his side, then rolled over dead.Hanson rode on into the forest, calling aloud to the girl.
"Here I am," came a quick response from the foliage of the trees justahead. "Did you hit him?"
"Yes," replied Hanson. "Where are you? You had a mighty narrowescape. It will teach you to keep out of the jungle at night."
Together they returned to the plain where they found the Hon. Morisonriding slowly back toward them. He explained that his pony had boltedand that he had had hard work stopping him at all. Hanson grinned, forhe recalled the pounding heels that he had seen driving sharp spursinto the flanks of Baynes' mount; but he said nothing of what he hadseen. He took Meriem up behind him and the three rode in silencetoward the bungalow.
The Son of Tarzan Page 18
