"You don"t now, eh? Well, that"s all right, and I think the chief knows too. That is why he spouted the water over you."
"A strange way of showing his grat.i.tude," laughed the boy, with a reddening face at the thought of the outrage.
"Not so strange. He saw the Belgians, and did it to put them off their guard."
"That ought to help us in our plans for his escape."
"We have plans, have we?"
"You have," said Compton, confidently; "and your plan is our plan."
"Thank you," said the hunter, quietly. "If the plan is to succeed, it must work to-night. I do not fear these people here, but I must say I fear the Arabs who are expected this evening."
"I understand that you will choose two of those Arabs as boatmen?"
"The Belgians have arranged that, Compton, not I. Have you any suggestions to offer?"
"I think, sir, that we should get all our things stored in the boat to-day," said Venning.
"Eight; and then?"
"And then," said Venning, his face all alight with ardour--"and then--why, sir, then you shoot one of the hippos over there on that little island. Shoot two; and while all the people in the village are cutting them up for a great feed, we could free Muata undetected."
"That is not so bad," said Compton, judiciously.
"Not at all," said Mr. Hume. "But when Muata is free, what is to become of him--suppose, that is, he can get away un.o.bserved?"
"I have it," said Compton. "The Zanzibar spy suggested it. Let Muata wait for us up the river, and we will pick him up."
Mr. Hume stroked his beard for some moments in silence.
"We"ll, try that plan," he said finally; "but don"t show any excitement. The native, remember, is a very keen observer. Now pull the boat in."
CHAPTER VI
THE FLIGHT
In the afternoon the village hummed with excitement. The word had gone round that the new white man who had shot the crocodile would give a feast, and the people squatted in rows on the bank watching a couple of their stalwart fellows preparing a canoe for an expedition after the river-horse. When Mr. Hume appeared with his Express in company with the Belgian officers, who were indifferent sportsmen, the people saluted him with a feeling of grat.i.tude for favours to come in the shape of fat meat.
"Good luck," said the junior officer, "but I back the animals; they are very wary and very fierce."
"What is the betting?" cried the hunter.
"Oh no, my friend!" exclaimed the senior. "Keep your money for to- night; and don"t drown yourself. We must have one game, you know."
"Very well. By the way, Compton?"
"Yes, sir."
"You and Venning may as well amuse yourselves by getting the stores on board in case we leave to-morrow."
"That depends on how the game goes," replied the officer. "If you win, we must keep you for a return match."
"That is only fair. But I may lose; so, my lads, go on with the packing."
The boat went off up the river hugging the banks, and the whole village sat down to watch the stalk, all but a few who went to and fro between Venning at the house and Compton in the boat, carrying the stores. The two officers turned in, with mats drawn, to enjoy their siesta, and the guards on duty sought the shade of the trees by the bank to watch the hunt.
The hunt was not a matter to be decided out of hand, by a swift paddle straight up to the sand-bank in the river, and a chance shot.
The canoe crept up slowly and pa.s.sed out of sight. The old hunters in the watching crowd took counsel together, and then the chief of them announced what would happen. The "slayer of crocodiles" would, he declared, get above the island and then slowly descend with the current upon the river-horse.
"May he shoot straight and his powder be strong," shouted a river- man; "for it is the father of bulls who sleeps there--he who has eaten many canoes."
"It is the same," said the old hunter; and, taking a pinch of snuff, he began to tell the deeds of the old bull hippo.
So the drowsy afternoon pa.s.sed lazily away to the watchers, and wearily to the white boys. Their thoughts were in the canoe, and, moreover, they were irritated by the slowness of the men who carried the parcels. No man would carry more than one package at a time, and after each journey he sat down to rest and discuss the chances for and against the feast.
When the shadows were creeping across the deserted square--deserted save for the man bound to the post, Venning for the hundredth time looked across with an aching desire to rush over and cut the bonds.
As his eyes ranged sadly over the bronzed figure, he detected a movement in the shadow of a hut opposite. Looking more attentively, he saw the round ears of a jackal, and then made out the sharp face resting between the outstretched paws, and the yellow eyes fixed intently on the chief.
Muata lifted his head slowly, as if it were top heavy for the muscles of his neck, and his gaze went sideways to see if any watched.
Venning nodded eagerly from the shelter of the room; made a movement with his hands as if he were cutting; pointed up the river and spread his arms like a swimmer.
Muata let fall his head again, with his chin on his naked breast; and the carriers ranged up for the last load. A shout from the bank made them hurry. Several people who had gone to see about their fires rushed, yelling, across the square to the bank.
"It was as I said," shouted the old black hunter. "See where he creeps down-stream on the bull." "Wow! he has hidden the canoe in leaves. It is as a tree floating."
"Ow ay, we smell meat!" sang a big man, stamping his feet.
"We smell meat--red meat, fat meat; the red meat of the fat cow for the women; the tough meat of the old bull for the men;" and the women clapped their hands.
The Belgian officers were awakened, and stepped out of their darkened rooms. They found the village empty, save for Venning stooping over his last parcel, and Muata at his post with what looked like a yellow native our lying at his feet.
"The bull opens his mouth!" chanted the old hunter. "He wakes from his sleep! There is the smell of man on the wind! He looks around!
He sees a tree borne on the current! He will surely eat lead!"
Venning picked up his parcel and followed the officers. Out of the comer of his eye he saw the seeming yellow cur lift its head and smell at the thongs which were bound about the prisoner"s legs. Then he hurried on.
"Wow! the bull drives, the cow into the water. He is cunning. Ow ay, he knows."
"What does he know, old talker?" asked one of the officers.
"The cow is fat," laughed the old man. "The hunter would shoot the fat cow first, and so the bull makes her take the risk. He is wise."
"He is shameless!" screamed the women.