He stood on the deck coatless, signalling with his raised fingers to the man at the wheel.
"Phew!" An arrow was shivering in the wooden deck-house. He pulled it out and examined its hammered steel point carefully, then he threw it overboard.
"Bang!"
A puff of smoke from the veiling foliage-a bullet splintered the back of his deck-chair.
He reached down and took up a rifle, noticed the drift of the smoke and took careful aim.
"Bang!"
There was no sign to show where the bullet struck, and the only sound that came back was the echo and the shrill swish of it as it lashed its way through the green bushes.
There was no more shooting.
"Puck-apuck-puck-apuck-puck," went the stern wheel slowly, and the bows of the Zaire clove the calm waters and left a fan of foam behind. Before the village was in view six war canoes, paddling abreast, came out to meet the Commissioner. He rang the engines to "Stop," and as the noise of them died away he could hear in the still air the beating of drums; through his gla.s.ses he saw fantastically-painted bodies, also a head stuck upon a spear.
There had been a trader named Ogilvie in this part of the world, a mild, uncleanly man who sold cloth and bought wild rubber.
"Five hundred yards," said Sanders, and Sergeant Abiboo, fiddling with the grip of the port Maxim, gave the cartridge belt a little pull, swung the muzzle forward, and looked earnestly along the sights. At the same time the Houssa corporal, who stood by the tripod of the starboard gun, sat down on the little saddle seat of it with his thumb on the control.
There came a spurt of smoke from the middle canoe; the bullet fell short.
"Ogilvie, my man," soliloquised Sanders, "if you are alive-which I am sure you are not-you will explain to me the presence of these Schneiders."
Nearer came the canoes, the paddle plunging rhythmically, a low, fierce drone of song accompanying the movement.
"Four hundred yards," said Sanders, and the men at the Maxims readjusted the sights.
"The two middle canoes," said Sanders. "Fire!"
A second pause.
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" laughed the guns sardonically.
Sanders watched the havoc through his gla.s.ses.
"The other canoes," he said briefly.
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"
This gunner was a careful man, and fired spasmodically, desiring to see the effects of his shots.
Sanders saw men fall, saw one canoe sway and overturn, and the black heads of men in the water; he rang the steamer ahead full speed.
Somebody fired a shot from one of the uninjured canoes. The wind of the bullet fanned his face, he heard the smack of it as it struck the woodwork behind.
There came another shot, and the boy at the wheel turned his head with a little grin to Sanders.
"Lord," he mumbled in Arabic, "this was ordained from the beginning."
Sanders slipped his arm about his shoulder and lowered him gently to the deck.
"All things are with G.o.d," he said softly.
"Blessed be His name," whispered the dying boy.
Sanders caught the wheel as it spun and beckoned another steersman forward.
The nose of the steamer had turned to the offending canoe. This was an unhappy circ.u.mstance for the men therein, for both guns now covered it, and they rattled together, and through the blue haze you saw the canoe emptied.
That was the end of the fight. A warrior in the fifth boat held his spear horizontally above his head in token of surrender, and ten minutes later the chief of the rebels was on board.
"Master," he said calmly, as they led him to Sanders" presence, "this is a bad palaver. How will you deal with me?"
Sanders looked at him steadily.
"I will be merciful with you," he said, "for as soon as we come to the village I shall hang you."
"So I thought," said the chief without moving a muscle; "and I have heard it said that you hang men very quickly so that they feel little pain."
"That is my practice," said Sanders of the River, and the chief nodded his head approvingly.
"I would rather it were so," he said.
It was to a sorrowful village that he came, for there were many women to wail their dead.
Sanders landed with his Houssas and held a high palaver under the trees.
"Bring me the old man M"fabaka who sees visions," he said, and they brought him a man so old that he had nothing but bones to shape him.
They carried him to the place of justice and set him down before the Commissioner.
"You are an evil man," said Sanders, "and because your tongue has lied many men have died; to-day I hang your chief upon a tree, and with him certain others. If you stand before your people and say, "Such a story, and such a story was a lie and no other thing," you may live your days; but, if you persist in your lying, by my G.o.d, and your G.o.d, you shall die!"
It was a long time before the old man spoke, for he was very old and very frightened, and the fear of death, which is the ghost of some old men, was on him.
"I spoke the truth," he quavered at last. "I spoke of what I saw and of what I knew-only that." Sanders waited.
"I saw the great king slay and burn; yesterday I saw him march his regiments to war, and there was a great shouting, and I saw smoke."
He shook his head helplessly.
"I saw these things. How can I say I saw nothing?"
"What manner of king?" asked Sanders.
Again there was a long interval of silence whilst the old man collected himself.