"I have eyes, chief."
"And you?"
"I saw him first," said Venning.
"And he was a stranger?"
"Of course."
Muata laughed. "White men know many things, but not all. Haw! Who are those to be eaten up?" He touched his naked breast, and then pointed at each in turn.
"They would attack us," roared Mr. Hume.
The chief nodded. "Now you know who that stranger was who came with his long story."
"One black chap is like another," muttered Compton.
"Who was he?" asked Mr. Hume.
"The servant of the white chiefs who bound me."
"The Zanzibari boy!" exclaimed Venning. "My Jenkins!"
"Why didn"t you knock the beggar overboard?" said Compton. "What cheek!"
"Does he know you recognized him?" said Mr. Hume.
"The dog was afraid; but at the last he went away, thinking he led Muata by a rope, as he would lead a goat. Had Ha.s.san, the wolf, tried to blind Muata so, then----" The chief touched the hilt of his knife.
"Let us hear the story."
Muata repeated the whole conversation with much byplay, even imitating the tones, the nervousness, and the sly glances of the Zanzibar spy, for nothing had escaped his keen glance.
"And those men whose presence he suddenly remembered, and who are to meet us to-night, will be Ha.s.san"s slave-robbers, too?"
"Ow aye," said Muata, with a ferocious gleam in his eyes.
"So, then, they have been waiting for us?"
"On both sides of the river they have been waiting;" and the chief looked out over the brown flood towards the north bank.
"It was well you talked to the man, for he was skillfully disguised, even to me, who am no child in these matters."
"Muata is old in cunning," said the chief, quietly. "If he were not wise, he would not be dreaded by the Wolf."
"I never recognized the beggar," said Venning, "and even now I cannot recall a feature that was like the Zanzibar! How did you discover him, Muata?"
"Wow! He wore nothing in his ears, there were no marks on his body, he had rubbed the dark juice of the chewing-leaf over his skin, and there was a lie on his tongue, and in his eyes. Ho!--white men, this is my word, that we fall on them to-night." The chief picked up a Ghoorka knife. "This is my weapon."
"We are not man-hunters," said Mr. Hume. "We will, however, hang about till evening, so that they may think we have no suspicions, and then in the dusk we will push on."
"Wow!" said the chief. "My plan would be to land above, to creep down and take them unprepared."
"And the canoes from the other side would steal across and cut you off. No; we will leave them."
"The canoes from the other side," said Compton, starting up. "I rather think I saw one shoot into that island--the big one with the palm-tree in the centre."
"All right," said the hunter, quickly. "Don"t look that way; take in the sail. If they are there, we don"t want to draw their attack now.
Get out the sculls, Venning, and keep her towards the sandbank ahead. Just keep her moving."
The sail rattled down, and the Okapi lazily moved nearer the sh.o.r.e, leaving about a mile of water between her and the island, towards which Mr. Hume, lying flat, was directing his gla.s.ses. The others were looking ostentatiously sh.o.r.ewards.
"You are right, Compton; canoes are gathering under that island."
"Congela," said the chief, "there is a man watching us from the land."
"Signal to him," said Mr. Hume. "You see, what we want is to keep those canoes where they are till night; and they probably won"t move till they have a signal from their friends ash.o.r.e."
Muata called out, and a man who was skulking behind a bush stepped out.
"Why do you watch, my friend?"
"O chiefs," shouted the man, "all goes well. The men will be here at nightfall, and the fire will be lit to guide you."
"It is good," said Muata. "We will wait."
The man stood for some time watching, then went into the bush, and the crew of the Okapi, to divert suspicion, got out fishing-lines and fished; but all the time Mr. Hume, lying under the awning, watched the distant island, which shielded an unknown number of their watchful foes.
"Woo!" said Muata, "the great one was right; and Muata is still a boy. Haw! Truly, if we had landed, our journey would have ended here."
"Suppose the canoes dash out before dark?" said Venning.
"Then we will make a run for it."
It was a long, long afternoon. Anxiously they waited for the sun to set, and the boys marked the slow creeping of the shadows over the river thrown by the ridge on the south bank, and anxiously Mr. Hume watched the island and the broad sweep ahead--for the danger was ahead. If the enemy had taken precautions to send a portion of the fleet up-river, they stood a chance of being intercepted.
At last the hour had come. The sky was turning grey, the shadows reached right across, and the evening wind was rustling the leaves.
The Okapi began to move. She crept away from the sh.o.r.e, and then turned again with her bows to the bank. So she waited a few minutes while the darkness deepened, then, as a flame broke out on land, the sail was run up; she came round once more with her bows up-stream, and slipped along. Looking back, they saw the fire spring up at the appointed landing-place, and, listening intently, they caught the crackling of the burning wood.
"They move," said Muata.
The others bent their heads, and presently they too heard the sound that had reached the keener sense of the warrior--a rhythmical beat and hum made by many paddles as the man-hunters, who had hidden behind the island, were dashing forward in hot haste to catch the Okapi, which they expected would be landing its crew. But the Okapi slipped on, and had a very good lead when Ha.s.san and his slave- hunters set up a terrific outcry on finding that once more they had been tricked. They made right across in a long beat for the north bank, then working the screw in turns, with the great lamp at the bows to scare off the hippos, they made good progress till sunrise.
For five days thereafter they kept steadily on their way, meeting with no adventure, and keeping out in mid-river to avoid the attention of the villagers. When, at intervals, they did land to buy goats"-milk, bananas, and manioc, they took precautions to approach clearings where there were only a few huts.
CHAPTER XII
THE MAN-EATERS