by Enid Blyton
At last the forest came to an end. The trees became fewer, and the sun shone between, making golden freckles on the ground that danced and moved as the trees waved their branches.
“Well, that couldn’t have been a very big forest if it only took us such a short time to go through,” said Mike.
“It is really a very big one,” said Pilescu. “But we have only gone through a corner of it. If we went deeper into it we should not be able to get along. We should have to take axes and knives to cut our way through.”
The children were still worried about Mafumu, but he suddenly appeared again, bent nearly double under his old load and carrying a new load of the juicy-looking yellow fruit. He gave some to each child, grinning cheerfully.
“Oh, thanks awfully,” said Mike. “Golly, this is just what I wanted — I was thirsty! This fruit melts in my mouth. Thanks awfully, Mafumu.”
“Thanksawfully, shutup,” said the little boy in delight.
“I think we’ll all have a rest here,” said Pilescu. “The sun is still high in the sky and we can’t walk any further for it will be too hot once we are out of the forest. We will go on again when the sun is lower.”
Nobody felt very hungry, for they were all so hot. Mafumu found some other kind of fruit for everybody, not nearly so nice, but still, very juicy and sweet. His uncle ate no fruit, but took something from a pouch and chewed that.
All the children fell asleep in the noonday sun except Mafumu. He squatted down beside Jack and watched the boy closely. Jack grinned at him and even when he slept Mafumu stayed by his side.
The grown-ups sat talking quietly together. Ranni looked round at the sleeping company. “The children have done well today,” he said to Pilescu. “They must have a good night’s rest tonight as well, for tomorrow we must climb high.”
“I wish that this adventure was over, and not just beginning,” said Pilescu uneasily, fanning Paul’s hot face with a spray of leaves. The boy was so sound asleep that he felt nothing.
But not one of the children wished that the adventure was over. No — to be in the middle of one was the most exciting thing in the world!
A Very Long March
For two whole days the company marched valiantly onwards. The children were all good walkers except Paul, and as Ranni carried him on his shoulders when he was very tired, that helped a good deal.
They had now come to the mountains and the guide was leading them steadily upwards. It was tiring to climb always, but the children soon got used to it. Mafumu did not seem to mind anything. He skipped along, and went just as fast uphill as down. He had picked up some more words now, and used them often, much to the children’s amusement.
“Goodgracious, shutup, hallo, thanksawfully,” he would chant as he skipped along, his load of packages balanced marvellously and never falling. “Hurryup, hurryup, hallo!”
“Isn’t he an idiot?“ said Jack. But although the children laughed at his antics, they all liked the cheerful boy enormously. He brought them curious things to eat — toadstools that were marvellous when cooked — strange leaves that tasted of peppermint and were good to chew — fruit of all kinds, some sweet, some bitter, some too queer-tasting to eat, though Mafumu ate everything, and smacked his lips and rubbed his round tummy in delight.
On the second day, when the children were all climbing steadily, Mafumu saw a clump of bushes high up some way in front of them. They were hung with brilliant blue berries, which Mafumu knew were sweet and juicy. He took a short cut away from the path, and climbed to the bushes.
He stripped them of the blue berries and began to jump back to join the company. But on the way his foot caught against a loose stone that rattled down the hillside and fell against his uncle’s leg.
In a fury the guide sprang at his nephew and caught hold of him. He beat him hard with his spear, and the little boy cried out in pain, trying his best to wriggle away.
“Oh, stop him, stop him!” yelled Jack, who hated unkindness of any sort. “Mafumu was only getting berries for us. Stop, stop!”
But the guide did not stop, and Jack ran up to him. He wrenched the spear out of the man’s hand and threw it down the hillside in anger, his face red with rage.
The spear went clattering down and was lost. The guide turned on Jack, but Ranni was beside him, talking sternly. The man listened, his eyes flashing. He said nothing, but turned to lead the way up the mountain-side once more.
“What did you say to him, Ranni?” asked Mike.
“I told him he would not get paid if he hit anyone again,” said Ranni shortly. “He was just about to strike Jack. Don’t interfere again, Jack. I’ll do the interfering.”
“Sorry,” said Jack, though he was still boiling with rage. Mafumu had got up from the ground, his face and arms covered with bruises. He ran to Jack and hugged him, speaking excitedly in his own language.
“Stop it, for goodness sake, Mafumu,” said Jack uncomfortably. “Oh golly, I wish you wouldn’t. Do let go, Mafumu!”
“He says he will be your friend for ever,” said Ranni with a grin. “He says he will leave his uncle and his tribe and come and be with the wonderful boy all his life. He says you are a king of boys!”
“King Jack, the king of boys!” shouted Mike, clapping Jack on the shoulder.
“Shut up,” growled Jack.
“Shutup, shutup, shutup,” echoed Mafumu happily, letting go of Jack and walking as close to his hero as he possibly could.
After that, of course, Mafumu adored Jack even more than before, and Jack got used to seeing the little boy always at his heels, like a shadow. He could not get rid of him, so he put up with it, secretly rather proud that Mafumu should have picked him out to be his friend.
It got steadily cooler as they all climbed higher. The mountains seemed never-ending.
“We shall never, never get to the top,” said poor Peggy, who had started a blister on one heel.
“We’re not going to the top,” said Mike. “All we are doing is climbing to a place where we can pass between two mountains. Ranni says we shall strike off to the east there, by that enormous rock, and make our way to a place where this mountain and the next one meet. There is a pass between them — and from there we can see the Secret Mountain!”
”Golly!” said Paul. “Are we as near as all that?”
“Well — not awfully near,” said Mike. “But we’ll get there sooner or later. Have you rubbed that stuff that Ranni gave you, all over your heel, Peggy?”
“Yes,” said Peggy. “And I’ve put a wad of cotton-wool over the blister too. I shall be all right.”
“Good girl,” said Mike. “I don’t think things like blisters ought to creep into adventures like ours!”
Everyone laughed. They had put on woollen jerseys now and were glad of them, especially when clouds rolled down the mountain-side and covered them in mist. They were glad of hot drinks, too, heated over a fire of sticks.
Mafumu always knew where water was, and he brought it to the fire in the saucepan that Ranni gave him. It was easy to make hot cocoa with plenty of sugar in it from one of the packages, and how good it tasted!
They slept in a cave that night, stretched out on the rugs. The girls cuddled together for it was very cold. Mafumu slept on nothing at all, and did not seem to feel the cold in the least. He really was a most tough little boy.
Ranni and Pilescu did not both sleep at the same time, but took turns at keeping watch — not only for any mountain leopard that might come into the cave, but also for any of the Folk from the Secret Mountain! They did not know what such strange people might do.
Mafumu was curled up on the rocky ground by Jack. Jack had offered him a share of the rug, but the boy would not take any of Jack’s coverings. He even tried to cover Jack up, much to the amusement of everyone else.
“He wants to be your nurse,” chuckled Mike.
“Oh, do stop making jokes like that,” grumbled poor Jack. “I can’t help Mafumu behaving like this, can I? He will
keep on doing it.”
“Tomorrow we shall see the Secret Mountain,” said Nora sleepily. “I’m just longing to get my first glimpse of it. I wonder what it will be like.”
“I wonder if Mafumu’s unpleasant uncle can possibly tell us any way to get into it,” said Mike. “It’s not going to be much good gazing at a secret mountain, if we don’t know the secret of getting into the middle of it!”
“Do you suppose there are halls and rooms and passages in it?” said Peggy, cuddling closer to Nora to try and get warm. “How I do love secret things!”
Mafumu took hold of Jack’s rug and pulled it more closely over the elder boy and for once in a way Jack did not stop him. The boy was almost asleep. He lay there in the cave, his eyes closing.
“Goodnight, Mafumu,” said Jack sleepily.
“Hallo, goodnight,” answered Mafumu, happy to be with his new friends.
“Tomorrow we shall see the — the — Secret — Mountain,” murmured Jack, and then fell fast asleep.
Tomorrow — yes, tomorrow!
The Secret Mountain
The next day dawned very misty. White clouds rolled round about the mountain pass, and it was difficult to see very far ahead. The children were most disappointed.
But as they walked steadily upwards towards the rocky pass between the two mountains, the sun began to shine more strongly through the mists, and soon the last fragments disappeared.
“Isn’t everything glorious!” cried Mike, looking round. Below them lay the great hillside they had climbed, and in the distance, stretching for miles, they could see the rolling country of Africa. Above them towered the mountains and overhead was the blazing sky.
“All the colours look so much brighter here,” said Peggy, picking a brilliant orange flower and sticking it into her hat. “Oh, Mafumu, for goodness sake!”
Mafumu had darted forward when he saw Peggy picking the flower, and had plucked a great armful of the orange flowers, which he now presented to her. The little girl laughed and took them. She didn’t know what to do with them, but in the end she and Nora stuck them all round their hats.
“I feel like a walking garden now,” said Nora. “I wish Mafumu wouldn’t be so generous!”
“Soon we shall arrive at the place from which we get our first glimpse of the Secret Mountain,” said Ranni.
That made everyone walk forward even more eagerly. For three hours they climbed towards the rocky pass, the guide leading the way, finding a path even when it seemed almost impossible to get by. Sometimes there was hard climbing to be done, and Ranni and Pilescu had to pull and push the children to get them up the hillside or over big rocks. Sometimes they passed through thick little copses of strange trees, where brilliant birds called to one another. It was all unknown country and most exciting.
At last they reached the top of the pass. From here they could see the other side of the range of mountains. Truly it was a marvellous place to stand! From this mountain peep-hole the little company could see both east and west — rolling country behind them for miles, disappearing into purple hills — and in front another range of mountains towering high into the sky, with a narrow valley in between the mountains they were on, and the range opposite.
Everyone stood silent, even the guide. It was surely the most wonderful sight in the world, the children thought, Then Paul spoke eagerly.
“Which is the Secret Mountain? Where is it? Quick, tell us!”
Ranni spoke to the guide, and he raised his spear and pointed with it. He spoke shortly to Ranni.
Ranni turned to the listening children. “Do you see that mountain over there, with clouds rolling round it? Wait till they clear a little, and you will see that the mountain has a curiously flat top. You will also see that it has a yellowish look, because, so this fellow says, a rare yellow bush grows there, which at some season of the year turns a fiery red.”
This all sounded rather weird. The children gazed across to the opposite mountains — and each saw the one that had clouds covering it. As they watched, the clouds uncurled themselves, and became thinner and thinner, at last disappearing altogether. And then everyone could see the curious Secret Mountain!
It stood out baldy from the other because of its yellow appearance, and also because of its strange summit. This was almost flat, like a table-top. The guide raised his spear again, and pointed, muttering something to Ranni.
“He says that he has heard that the Folk of the Mountain sometimes appear on the top of it, and that they worship the sun from there,” said Ranni. “Though how anyone could see people so far away I can’t imagine. However, it is quite possible that there is a way up inside the mountain to the top.”
“Isn’t it strange to think of a tribe of people taking such a queer home, and living there apart from everyone else?” said Jack in wonder.
“Oh, that has often happened,” said Pilescu. “Sometimes there are tribes living apart from others in the middle of dense forests — sometimes on islands — sometimes even in deserts. But a mountain certainly seems one of the strangest places to choose.”
“I suppose they come out to hunt, and that is how the other people know about them,” said Mike.
“I think you are right,” said Ranni. “Well — there’s the wonderful Secret Mountain — and here we are. The mountain won’t come to us, so we must go to the mountain. Shall we set off again, Pilescu?”
The guide spoke rapidly to Ranni, making faces and waving his arms about.
“He says he doesn’t want to come any further,” said Ranni. “Is it any good his coming?” He swears he doesn’t know any way into the mountain.”
“He’s going to come with us all the way,” said Pilescu firmly. “He may find that he knows the way in after all, once we get there! Anyway, he won’t get paid if he doesn’t come.”
“Where is the money?” asked Nora. “It’s not being carried along with us, is it?”
“Of course not,” said Ranni with a laugh.
“Well, did you put it back into the cabin of the plane?” said Jack. “You locked that.”
“No. I wrapped up the money carefully and hid it under the low brances of that big tree by the washing-pool before we left,” said Ranni. “I shall tell our guide where it is when he has done his job — but not before!”
“That’s a clever idea,” said Peggy. Ranni turned to the man and spoke to him again. He shook his head violently. Ranni shrugged his shoulders, and bade the little company set off.
They made their way along a rocky path, leaving the guide and Mafumu behind. But they had not gone very far before loud shouts came from the tribesman, and the children saw him leaping along to catch them up. Mafumu trotted behind, his face was one big smile.
His uncle spoke with Ranni, but Ranni shook his head. The children could quite well guess what was happening — the man was asking to be paid, and Ranni was being determined. In the end the guide agreed to go with them once more, and Ranni promised to tell him where the money was as soon as they reached the Secret Mountain.
It was a good thing that their guide went with them, for the way he led them was one which they would never have found for themselves. It was a hidden way, so that the little company would not be seen by any watchers on the Secret Mountain.
Ranni and Pilescu had had no idea that there was this hidden path to the mountain. They would have tried to lead the party across the valley, over marshy ground, or through such thickly growing bushes that it would have been almost impossible to make their way through.
As it was, the tribesman avoided these, and took them to a narrow river, not much more than a large stream, that flowed along swiftly towards the mountain. This stream was almost completely covered in by bushes and trees that met above the water, making a kind of green tunnel, below which the river gurgled and bubbled.
“Golly! What an exciting river!” cried Jack, thrilled to see the dim green tunnel. “How are we going to get along? Is it shallow enough to wade down the stream?”
&n
bsp; “In parts it would be, but I don’t fancy doing that,” said Pilescu. “What is the fellow doing — and Mafumu too? I believe they are making rough rafts for us!”
“What fun!” cried Paul, and he ran to watch the two workers.
Mafumu was busy bringing armfuls of stuff that looked rather like purple cork to his uncle. He had got it from a marshy piece of ground. It smelt horrible.
“Is it cork?” said Paul.
“No — it looks more like some sort of fungus, or enormous toadstool,” said Pilescu. “Look at his uncle binding it together with creeper-ropes!”
In two hours’ time four small rafts of the horrible-smelling cork were made. They looked rather queer and they smelt even queerer, but they floated marvellously, bobbing about on the water like strange ducks. The children were delighted. It was going to be splendid fun to float down the hidden river, under a green archway of trees, right up to the Secret Mountain!
“Our guide says that his tribe always use these queer rafts to get quickly down this valley, which they fear because of the Mountain Folk,” said Ranni. “The stream goes right round the foot of the Secret Mountain, and joins a river round there. Then it goes into the next valley, which is a fine hunting-ground used by Mafumu’s tribe. He says that the rafts don’t last long — they gradually fall to bits — but last just long enough to take a man into the next valley with safety!”
Pilescu and Paul got on to one raft. It wobbled dangerously, but sank hardly at all into the water. There was only just room for the two of them to squat. They held on to the creeper-ropes that bound the raft together. Then down the stream they went, bobbing like corks.
Ranni and Nora went next. Mike and Peggy went together, and last of all came the guide, Jack, and, of course, Mafumu, who was determined not to leave Jack for even a minute!
It was a strange journey, a little frightening. The trees met overhead and were so thick that no sunlight pierced through to the swift stream. The only light there was glowed a dim green.
