CHAPTER V
MONTGOMERY USES HIS POWER
Some time after Lister went to the factory he woke one night fromdisturbed sleep. His small room under _Terrier's_ bridge was very hotand the door and port were open. A faint draught blew in and themosquito curtain moved about his bed. The tug rolled languidly and thewater splashed against her side. Farther off the gentle swell broke witha dull murmur across the wreck.
This was all, but Lister was persuaded he had, when half awake, heardsomething else. At dusk a drum had begun to beat across the lagoon andthe faint monotonous noise had jarred. It was typically African; thenegroes used drums for signaling, although white men had not found outtheir code. Lister had come to hate all that belonged to the fevercoast.
The drum, however, was not beating now, and he rather thought he hadheard the splash of a canoe paddle. There was no obvious reason thisshould bother him, but he was bothered and after a few minutes got upand put on a thin jacket. On deck it was very hot and he felt the warmthof the iron plates through his slippers. In West Africa one puts onslippers as soon as one gets out of bed, for fear of the jigger insectthat bores into one's foot. A gentle land breeze blew across the lagoonand the air was hot and damp like steam. Lister smelt river mud andaromatic forest.
There was no moon, but he saw the dark hull rise and fall, and the flashof phosphorescent foam where the swell washed across the deck. In thedistance, the surf rumbled and now and then there was a peal of thunder.Lister wondered why he had left his berth. He was tired and neededsleep, for he had been occupied all day at the pump, which was notrunning well. Recently he had been conscious of a nervous strain andthings that were not important annoyed him; then he often woke at night,feeling that some danger threatened.
Walking along the deck he found a white sailor sitting on the windlassdrum. The man did not move until Lister touched his arm.
"Did you hear something not very long since, Watson?"
"No, sir," said the other with a start. "Now and then a fish splashedand she got her cable across the stem. Links rattled. That was all."
Lister thought the man had slept, but it was not important, since therewas no obvious necessity for keeping anchor watch.
"Did you hear something, sir?" the other inquired.
"I don't know. I imagine I did!"
The sailor laughed, as if he understood. "A queer country; I've beenhere before! Beautiful, bits of it; shining surf, yellow sands, andpalms, but it plays some funny tricks with white men. About half of themat the factories get addled brains if they stay long. Believe in thingsthe bushmen believe, ghosts and magic, and such. Perhaps it's theclimate, but on this coast you get fancies you get nowhere else. I'dsooner take look-out on the fo'cas'le in a North Sea gale than keepanchor watch in an African calm."
Lister nodded. He thought the man felt lonely and wanted to talk and hesympathized. There was something insidious and daunting about theAfrican coast. He walked round the deck and then returning to his roompresently went to sleep.
At daybreak he heard angry voices and going out found Brown stormingabout the deck. Two white sailors had come back in the boat from thehulk, with the news that the negroes berthed on board her had vanishedin the night, except for three or four whom the sailors had brought tothe tug. When Brown got cooler he went up to the men who squattedtranquilly on the hatch. They were big muscular fellows and wore,instead of the usual piece of cotton, ragged duck clothes.
"Where's the rest of the gang?" Brown asked.
"No savvy, sah," said one. "Some fella put them t'ing Ju-Ju on him andhe lib for bush."
"What's a Ju-Ju?" Lister inquired.
"Hocus-pocus, magic of a sort," the captain growled. "When a white manknows much about Ju-Ju his proper place is an asylum." He turned to theboys. "How did them other fellows go?"
"No savvy, sah. We done hear not'ing."
"I expect they were afraid to meddle," Brown remarked, and resumed: "Whydid you lib for stop?"
"We Accra boy; white man's boy. Them bushman him d--n fool too much. Runin bush like monkey, without him clo'es."
Brown knitted his brows and then made a sign of resignation. "I reckonit's all we'll know! Well, the tide's falling and we must shift for somekernels before the sun is hot. Better start your pump."
The pump was soon at work, and Lister, watching the engine, mused. Hewondered how much the Accra boys knew, or if it was possible the othershad stolen away without waking them. Watson, the look-out, had heardnothing, and Lister remembered Brown's remarks about the Ju-Ju andthought the boys did know something but were afraid to tell. Watson hadsaid the country was queer, and if he meant fantastic, Lister agreed.There was something about it that re-acted strangely on one'simagination. In the North American wilds, one was, so to speak, amaterialist and conquered savage Nature by using well-known rules. InAfrica one did not know the rules and felt the power of thesupernatural. It looked as if there was a mysterious, malignant force.But the pump was running badly and Lister saw he must not philosophize.
When the sun got hot he stopped for breakfast and afterwards he andBrown smoked for a few minutes under the awning.
"I'm bothered about the boys' going," the captain declared. "There's notmuch doubt Montgomery got somebody to put Ju-Ju on them; bribed amagician to frighten them by a trick. Since they're a superstitious lot,I reckon we can't hire another gang in this neighborhood. However, nowhe's stopped our coal, you'll have to go to _Sar_ Leone, and may pick upsome British Kroos about the port."
"Then I'd better go soon," said Lister. "The braces I bolted on the pumpwon't hold long; she rocks and strains the shaft when she's runninghard. I must get a proper casting made at a foundry. Besides, the enginecrosshead's worn and jumps about. I must try to find a forge andmachine-shop."
"They've got something of the kind at _Sar_ Leone; I don't know about afoundry," Brown replied. "Take Learmont to navigate, and start when youlike. We'll shift the hulk to leeward of the wreck and she ought to rideout a south-east breeze."
Lister sailed a few days afterwards, and reaching Sierra Leone foundnobody could make the articles he required. For all that, they must begot, and he resolved to push on for Grand Canary. The distance was long,he had not men enough for an ocean voyage, and would be lucky if he gotback to the lagoon in three or four weeks, but if he could not mend thepump, the salvage work must stop. Lister knew when to run a risk wasjustified.
After he passed the Gambier, wind and sea were ahead, his crew wasshort, and he was hard pressed to keep the engine going and watch thefurnaces. He slept when he could, in snatches, with his clothes on, andnow and then used an exhausted fireman's shovel On the steamy Africancoast the labor and watchfulness would have worn him out, but the coolTrade breeze was bracing. Although he was thin, and got thinner, thelassitude he had felt at the lagoon vanished, and the fatigue he foughtagainst was not the fatigue that kills.
In the meantime, _Terrier_ pushed stubbornly north across the long,foam-tipped seas that broke in clouds of spray against her thrustingbows. She was swept by the sparkling showers, but the showers were warm,and the combers were not often steep enough to flood her deck. For allthat, their impact slowed her speed. She must be driven through theirtumbling crests, full steam was needed to overcome the shock, and theworn-out men moved down coal from the stack on deck to feed the hungryfires.
Lister's eyes ached from the glare of smoky lamps that threw puzzlinglights about the machinery. After long balancing on slanted platforms,his back and legs were sore; his brows were knit in a steady frown, andhis mouth was always firm. When the strain was over, he sometimeswondered what he thought about in the long, exhausting watches, butremembered nothing except his obstinate concentration on his task. Thestrange thing was, he did not think much about Barbara, although he wasvaguely conscious that, for her sake, he must hold out. He meant to holdout. Perhaps his talents were not numerous, but he could handle engines,and when it was necessary he could keep awake.
At length, Learmont called him o
ne morning to the bridge, and he leanedslackly against the rails. His eyes were dull, and for some hours he hadbreathed the fumes of burning tallow. A slide had given him trouble; hecould keep the metal cool. On the bridge, however, the air was keen andsweet, and he felt the contrast. _Terrier_ plunged and threw the sprayabout, but the seas were short, as if something ahead broke the wind. Byand by Learmont indicated a lofty bank of mist.
"Teneriffe!" he said. "I was half-asleep when I took the sun, but myreckoning was not very far out."
Lister looked up. In the distance a sharp white cone, rising from fleecyvapor, cut the sky, and Lister, with dull satisfaction, knew the famouspeak. Nearer the tug was another bank of mist, that looked strangelysolid but ragged, as if it were wrapped about something with a brokenoutline. Some minutes afterwards a high, dark object like amountain-top, loomed in the haze.
"Grand Canary!" Learmont remarked. "The range behind Las Palmas town. Iexpect the smudge ahead is the Isleta hill."
"We've made it!" Lister said hoarsely, and braced himself. Now thestrain was gone, he felt very slack.
The sun rose out of the water, the mist began to melt, and rolling back,uncovered a line of surf and a belt of rough hillside. Then volcaniccliffs, a sandy isthmus, and a cluster of masts and funnels gotdistinct, and Lister fixed the glasses on a white stripe across a cinderhill. His hand shook, but he steadied the glasses and saw the stripe wasa row of huge letters.
"... _ary Engineering Co_ ..." he read.
His heart beat when he went below. Luck had given him a hard job, but hehad put it across. Soon after _Terrier_ arrived he went to theengineering company's office and the manager looked at him curiously.Then he gave Lister some wine and, after studying his drawings andpatterns, said he could make the things required. Lister drove to thetown, and going to a Spanish barber's, started when he saw hisreflection in a glass. He had not shaved for long, and fresh water wasscarce on board the tug. His face was haggard, the engine grime had gotinto his skin, and his eyes were red. He was forced to wait, and whilethe barber attended to other customers, he fell asleep in his chair.When he left the shop he went to a hotel and slept for twelve hours.