For a trying spell his undaunted spirit had stood between the valley and destruction, and the wild men went back to Ha.s.san with a tale of a terrible white man who had struck down their bravest with a great blade.
"That Ghoorka knife," he said, "is a great weapon;" and with that summing-up of the struggle in the gloom of the defile he lit his pipe, and sat down to gaze upon the valley, so peaceful in appearance, so charged with the everlasting tragedy of life. "If those people were whites, or Arabs, they would now be following up the enemy to crush him while he is disorganized. But being blacks, they don"t look further ahead than their noses, which were made short for the purpose."
"Let us go down and offer to lead an expedition in pursuit," said Compton.
"I guess not, d.i.c.k. They"d leave us to do all the fighting ourselves; and there"s no sense in that. What we have to think about is how to get away."
"Surely there is no difficulty about that. We will go when it suits us."
"I"m not so sure," said Mr. Hume, gravely.
"But Muata is our friend."
"Muata cannot do what he likes, and, if he could, you"ve got to remember this--that Muata in the Okapi, dependent on us, is another person to Muata the chief in his own kraal."
"I don"t think he would be treacherous," said Venning.
"He need not go so far as that to upset our plans. Maybe he would find it convenient to keep us here as his "white men" until it suits him to let us go. You see, he has got to think of himself as chief and of his people first."
"I don"t think he would treat us unfairly," said Compton, warmly, "especially as they owe so much to us."
"That"s nothing."
"But, sir, these people were kind to my father; and Muata stood by us all along like a brick."
"Well," said Mr. Hume, lighting his pipe, "I always find it pays to keep your powder dry and your eyes skinned. So whether Muata continues friendly or not, be always on your guard."
Muata was friendly. He paid them a visit, and he proclaimed them chiefs with full right to offer council at the Indabas under the t.i.tle of "The Old Lion," "The Young Lion," and "The Spider," the last distinction falling to Venning, because of his fondness for the pursuit of insects. Muata then dismissed his body-guard and joined his newly appointed chiefs at the fire. He sat a long time silent, his eyes bloodshot, his brows bent, and when he did speak, his words veiled a hidden meaning.
"The place is yours," he said, "to go and to come, to eat and to drink, to take and keep. Choose any place, and the people will build huts for you."
"This cave is dry and comfortable. We want no huts, chief."
"It is well enough now, but in the rains it is not good."
"We shall be well on our way before the rains set in, chief."
"Wow! The Spider has seen how the ants live."
The Spider admitted that he had studied the ways of the ant.
"Good. There are strangers in the house of the ant."
"Oh yes; you mean what are called the "cows" of the ants."
"Haw! That was the word given them by the white man who was here before. They enter the house of the ant, but out of it never do they pa.s.s."
"Is this, then, the house of the ant?" asked Mr. Hume, quietly.
The chief turned to the Hunter an impa.s.sive face. "My people can build ye good huts, and there are many places thereunder near running waters, with well-grown gardens. Choose which ye like, my brothers."
"We will examine and select," said Mr. Hume, with a.s.sumed unconcern.
"And what of Ha.s.san?"
The chief rose. "He will return like the badger to a bee-tree when the bees have quieted down."
"And you wish to keep us to help you drive him from the honey again?
Is that it?"
The chief looked down upon the valley. "A child I came here, O great one; a boy I herded goats among the hills; and while yet other boys kept the birds off the grain, I went alone into the darkness of the woods beyond to seek the man-hunters. Now they seek me. Ye have helped in one great fight. All the time Muata has been at war--the hunter and the hunted."
He turned his face again towards them, and there was in it a touch of dignity. He broke into a kind of chant.
"Ye may hear the laughter of the little ones. There are no such at the door of Muata"s hut, for a man cannot take unto himself wives and keep his arm strong to cast the spear, his eyes clear to follow the trail, and his heart strong to face the dangers that come out of the forest.
"Ye hear the voice of the young men and maidens singing in the dance. Ye may see the mothers about their work, and the old men at the fire. For them the cloud is past. They sit in the warmth of the sun, and heed not the shadows that gather in the trees. The boy who sits in the tree to frighten the birds from the grain has his turn at the dance. But the chief, he watches always; for Muata there is no rest in the Place of Rest."
"You are the first chief ever I heard take that weight upon his shoulders," said Mr. Hume, with admiration he could not restrain.
"Why don"t you resign?" said Compton.
"Haw!"
"Let some one else be chief."
Muata"s nostrils quivered in disgust. "Wow! I am a chief, and the son of a chief. Who is there to take my place?"
"But you were a long time away."
"Ohe! and, as ye have seen, men conspired to let Ha.s.san and his man- eaters in upon the valley. So my word to you, my brothers, is, to choose ground for huts;" and the chief stalked away.
"I don"t envy him his post," said Mr. Hume, looking after him; "but I was right, you see."
"Well, when we want to go we will go," said Compton. "In the mean time we will make the best of these quarters and this valley, which is a good enough place for a holiday. And remember I have to find my father"s journal."
Leaving the Hunter at the cave, the Young Lion and the Spider went off on an excursion, and, of course, turned their steps first of all to the gorge, to see the place where the great stand had been made.
They were greeted by a small band of warriors, who were squatting on the ledge from which they had fired, and who apparently were on guard. They found themselves on the outer slope of the crater, looking down once more on the interminable reaches of the forest, with just a gleam of water showing at intervals to mark the course of the river up which Ha.s.san"s flotilla of canoes had sailed after leaving the wide lagoon. Descending from the ledge to the level of the gorge, they saw the place where the Hunter had made his stand--a little square of rock opening on to the wood path, up which the wild men had rushed to the attack. This path, as they saw, was nothing else than the dry cataract of a river, strewn with boulders, and then they suddenly turned to each other with an exclamation at the thought, "What had become of the river?"
"It"s queer!" said Venning. "Where is the water?"
On looking around, they beard for the first time a peculiar subterranean rumbling, and going back a few feet, saw the river disappear in a smooth, green slide down into a wide fissure. They stood looking down, fascinated at this mysterious, silent, and stealthy disappearance of the waters that come with such a sparkle out of the bright valley; then dropped stones down, and stooped their heads in vain to catch even the slightest sound out of the depths. The fissure was about twenty feet wide, with a sloping lip on the near side, and a straight wall on the far or forest side. The slope seemed to carry the water to the left, and with a desire to discover its course, they tugged at a large post which stood against the wall of the gorge and rolled it into the fissure. It whizzed away down into the dark, and nearly dragged Compton after it, for the sleeve of his coat caught on a projecting point, and he was jerked on to his knees, being saved from further danger by the coat tearing.
"Thanks," he said, looking a little white; "I am quite satisfied that the water disappears."
"I rather think," said Venning, "that we have pulled up a gate-post.
See, there is one on the other side. A few tree-trunks thrown across would make a fine barricade. Come on back into the valley."
They went back slowly, looking up at the dark walls of the rocky gorge, and Venning stopped.