CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
AN UNFORTUNATE DELAY, AND A TERRIBLE VISITOR.
Only those who have been forcibly held back when filled with the deepestanxiety to go forward, can form any thing like a conception of our stateof mind during the few days that succeeded that on which Peterkin metwith his accident.
We felt like chained hounds when the huntsmen pass by. We knew thatevery hour increased the distance between us and the slave-dealer'sparty, who, unless we succeeded in passing them and reaching thevillages first, would infallibly succeed in their villainous design.But Peterkin was unable to proceed without great risk, as whenever heattempted to walk steadily for any distance his head became giddy, andwe were compelled to halt, so that a day or two's rest was absolutelynecessary. Poor Makarooroo was nearly beside himself with impatience;but to do him justice, he endeavoured to conceal the state of hisfeelings when in Peterkin's presence.
During this period of forced inaction, although of course I had nothingto do, I found it impossible to apply my mind closely to the study ofany of the strange and beautiful objects by which I was surrounded.Anxiety banished from me almost entirely the love of study, as well asthe power of observation. Nevertheless, one or two things that I sawwere so curious that they could not but make a deep impression on mymemory.
I discovered a spider of a very remarkable kind, which was such aningenious creature as to be capable of making a door to the entrance ofits house. I came upon the animal one day while taking a stroll a shortdistance from our camp. It was as large as a shilling, reddish incolour, and from the fierce, rapid way in which it ran about hither andthither as if in search of prey, it had an exceedingly horrible andvoracious aspect. The hole of this creature is visible only when itsowner is absent from home. It is quite evident either that there are nothieves among the lower animals there, or that there is nothing in thehole to steal, for when he goes out he leaves the door open behind him.When he returns he shuts the door, and the hole becomes invisible, inconsequence of the door being coated with earth on the outside. Itsinside is lined with a pure white silky substance, which at onceattracted my attention as I passed. On trying to pick up the door, Ifound that it was attached by a hinge to the hole, and on being shut itfitted exactly.
Perhaps the most singular discovery I made was a tree, the stem of whichhad been so completely surrounded by spiders' webs that it could not beseen, and I had to cut through the network with my knife in order to getat the tree. The lines of those webs were as thick as coarse threads,and pretty strong, as I had reason to know; for when walking back tocamp the same evening, meditating deeply on our unfortunate detention, Iran my head into the middle of a spider's web, and was completelyenveloped in it, so much so that it was with considerable difficulty Isucceeded in clearing it away. I was as regularly netted as if a gauzeveil had been thrown over me.
On our third morning after the accident we set forth again, andcontinued our journey by forced marches as Peterkin could bear it.Although the two past days and nights had been absolutely lost, andcould not now be recalled, yet the moment we set out and left our campbehind us, the load of anxiety was at once lifted off our minds, and wehurried forward with an elasticity of step and spirit that was quitedelightful. We felt like prisoners set free, and kept up a continualflow of conversation, sometimes in reference to the scenery and objectsaround us, at other times in regard to our future plans or our pastexperiences.
"It seems to me," said Jack, breaking silence at the end of a long pausewhich had succeeded an animated discussion as to whether it were betterto spend one's life in the civilised world or among the wilds of Africa,in which discussion Peterkin, who advocated the wild life, was utterly,though not admittedly, beaten--"it seems to me that, notwithstanding theshort time we stayed in the gorilla country, we have been prettysuccessful. Haven't we bagged thirty-three altogether?"
"Thirty-six, if you count the babies in arms," responded Peterkin.
"Of course we are entitled to count these."
"I think you are both out in your reckoning," said I, drawing out mynote-book; "the last baby that I shot was our thirty-seventh."
"What!" cried Peterkin, "the one with the desperately black face and thehorrible squint, that nearly tore all the hair out of Jack's head beforehe managed to strangle him? That wasn't a baby; it was a big boy, and Ihave no doubt a big rascal besides."
"That may be so," I rejoined; "but whatever he was, I have him down asnumber thirty-seven in my list."
"Pity we didn't make up the forty," observed Jack.
"Ah! yes indeed," said Peterkin. "But let me see: could we not manageto make it up to that yet?"
"Impossible," said I. "We are far away from the gorilla land now, Iknow; for, in addition to the fact that we have seen no traces ofgorillas for a long time, we have, within the last few days, seenseveral lions, which, you are well aware, do not exist in the gorillacountry."
"True; but you mistake me," rejoined Peterkin. "I do not mean to makeup the number to forty by killing three more, but by proving, almost todemonstration, that we have already been the death of that number, inaddition to those noted down."
"You'll find that rather difficult," said Jack, laughing.
"Not at all," cried Peterkin. "Let me think a minute. You rememberthat enormously big, hairy fellow, that looked so like an ugly old manthat Ralph refused point-blank to fire at him, whereupon you fired athim point-blank and wounded him in the shoulder as he was running away?"
"We treated several big fellows in that way," replied Jack; "which ofthem do you allude to?--the one that roared so loud and terrified you somuch that you nearly ran away?"
"No, no; you know well enough which one I mean. The one that ran alongthe edge of the stagnant pool into which you tumbled as we were comingback."
"Oh yes! I remember," said Jack, laughing.
"Well, that fellow flew into such a horrible rage when he was wounded,"continued Peterkin, "that I am perfectly certain he went straight homeand murdered his wife in a passion; which brings up the number tothirty-eight. Then there was that old woman-gorilla that I brought downwhen we were descending yon hill that was covered with such splendidvines. You remember? Well, I'm quite certain that the youngman-gorilla beside her, who ran off and escaped, was her son, and thathe went home straightway and died of grief. That makes thirty-nine.Then--"
"Oh, do be quiet, Peterkin, please," said I, with a shudder. "You putthings in such a fearfully dark and murderous light that I feel quite asif I were a murderer. I feel quite uneasy, I assure you; and if it werenot that we have killed all these creatures in the cause of science, Ishould be perfectly miserable."
"In the cause of science!" repeated Peterkin; "humph! I suspect that agood deal of wickedness is perpetrated under the wing of science."
"Come, come," said Jack; "don't you begin to grow sarcastic, MasterPeterkin. I abominate sarcasm, and cannot tolerate sarcastic people.If you adopt that style, I shall revert to my natural habits as agorilla, and tear you in pieces."
"There you exhibit your unnatural ignorance of your own natural habits,"retorted Peterkin; "for you ought to know that gorillas never tear menin pieces--their usual mode being to knock you down with a blow of theirhuge paws."
"Well, I will knock you down if you prefer it."
"Thank you; I'd rather not. Besides, you have almost knocked me upalready; so pray call a halt and let me rest a bit."
We were all very willing to agree to this request, having walked thelast two or three miles at a very quick pace. Seating ourselves on thetrunk of a fallen tree, we enjoyed the beautiful prospect before us. Anopen vista enabled us to see beyond the wood in which we were travellinginto an extensive sweep of prairie-land on which the sinking sun wasshedding a rich flood of light. It happened to be a deliciously coolevening, and the chattering of numerous parrots as well as thetwittering songs of other birds--less gorgeous, perhaps, but moremusical than they--refreshed our ears as the glories of the landscapedid our
eyes. While we were gazing dreamily before us in silentenjoyment, Jack suddenly interrupted our meditations by exclaiming--
"Hist! look yonder!"
He pointed as he spoke to a distant part of the plain on which theforest closely pressed.
"A zebra!" cried I, with delight; for besides the feeling of pleasure atseeing this splendid creature, I entertained a hope that we might shoothim and procure a steak for supper, of which at that time we stood muchin need.
"I'm too tired to stalk it now," said Peterkin, with an air ofchagrin.--"Are you up to it, Jack?"
"Quite; but I fear he's an animal that's very difficult to stalk in suchan open country.--What say you, Mak?"
"Hims no be cotched dis yer night, massa; hims too far away an' too wide'wake."
"What say you to a long shot, Peterkin? Your rifle is sighted for fourhundred yards, and he seems to be little more than six hundred off."
"I'll try," said our friend, going down on one knee and adjusting thesight of his piece. Taking a long, steady aim, he fired, and in anotherinstant the zebra lay dead on the plain. I need hardly add that ouramazement was excessive. Even Peterkin himself could scarcely believehis eyes. Had his rifle been sighted for such a distance, the shot,although a splendid one, would not have amazed us so much, because weknew that our friend's aim was deadly; but as he had to elevate themuzzle above the object fired at and guess the amount of elevation, theshot was indeed wonderful. It was a long time before our guide couldmove, but when he did recover himself he danced and shouted like amadman with delight, and then, setting off with a bound, sped across theplain like a deer.
"Come along," cried Jack with a laugh--"let's follow; for Mak looked sorabid when he went off that I believe he'll eat the beast raw before wecan claim our share, if we don't look sharp."
We all of us set off at a smart trot, and soon came to the spot whereour prize lay. It was a splendid creature, and in prime condition.After examining it carefully, and descanting on the beauty of itsstriped skin, I sat down beside it and pulled out my note-book, while mycomrades entered the forest to search for a suitable place on which toencamp, and to kindle a fire. A spot was quickly found, and I hadscarcely finished making notes when they returned to carry the zebrainto the encampment. We accomplished this with some difficulty, andlaid it beside the fire. Then cutting four large steaks from its flankswe proceeded to sup, after which we made our arrangements for spendingthe night there. We little knew the startling surprise that was instore for us that night.
As the forest in that place happened to be swarming with wild animals ofevery kind, we deemed it prudent to set a watch as well as to keep up ablazing fire. Jack and I and the negro kept watch by turns; Peterkin,being still sufficiently an invalid to claim exemption from laboriousduties, was permitted to rest undisturbed.
About midnight I aroused Jack, and having made him sit up, in order toshow that he was thoroughly awake, I lay down and went to sleep.
How long I slept I cannot tell, but I was suddenly awakened by one ofthe most tremendous roars I ever heard. It was so chose to me that, inthe confusion of my sleepy brain, it seemed to be far more terrible thanthat even of the gorilla. I was mistaken in this, however, and no doubtmy semi-somnolent condition tended to increase its awfulness.
Springing into a sitting posture, and by an involuntary impulse reachingout my hand for my gun which lay close to me, I beheld a sight that wascalculated to appal the stoutest heart. A lion of the largest size wasin the very act of springing over the bushes and alighting on the zebra,which, as I have said, lay on the other side of the fire and not fouryards off from us. As the light glared in the brute's eyes, and, as itwere, sparkled in gleams on its shaggy mane, which streamed out underthe force of its majestic bound, it seemed to my bewildered gaze asthough the animal were in the air almost above my head, and that he mustinevitably alight upon myself. This, at least, is the impression leftupon my mind now that I look back upon that terrific scene. But therewas no time for thought. The roar was uttered, the bound was made, andthe lion alighted on the carcass of the zebra almost in one and the samemoment. I freely confess that my heart quailed within me. Yet that didnot prevent my snatching up my gun; but before I had time to cock it thecrashing report of Jack's elephant rifle almost split the drum of myear, and I beheld the lion drop as if it had been a stone.
It lay without motion, completely dead, and we found, on examination,that the ball had smashed in the centre of its forehead and completelypenetrated its brain.
Some time elapsed before we could find words to express our feelings.Our guide, who had so completely enveloped his head and shoulders ingrass when he lay down to sleep that he was the last to spring up,looked at the huge carcass of the lion with an expression of utterbewilderment.
"What a magnificent fellow! And what a splendid shot!" exclaimedPeterkin at last. "Why, Jack, I don't believe there's a finer lion inAfrica. It's lucky, though, that you were on the _qui vive_."
"Yes," said I; "had it not been for you we might have been all killed bythis time."
"No fear o' dat," chimed in our guide, as he sat down on the lion'sshoulder, and began to stroke its mane; "hims was want him's supper offde zebra, ho! ho! Hims got him's supper off a bullet!"
"'Tis well that he has," observed Jack, as he reloaded his rifle. "Tosay truth, comrades, I scarcely deserve credit for being guardian of thecamp, for I'm ashamed to say that I was sound asleep at the moment thelion roared. How I ever managed to take so quick and so good an aim ismore than I can tell. Luckily my rifle was handy, and I had fallenasleep in a sitting posture. Had it been otherwise, I could scarcelyhave been in time to prevent the brute springing on us, had he felt sodisposed."
Here was now another subject for my note-book, so I sat down, and begana minute inspection of the noble-looking animal, while my comrades,heaping fresh logs on the fire, sat down in front of it, and for upwardsof an hour, "fought their battles o'er again."
It was a matter of deep regret to us all that we could not afford tocarry away with us the skin of this lion as a memorial; butcircumstanced as we then were, that was out of the question, so wecontented ourselves with extracting his largest teeth and all his claws,which we still preserve in our museum as trophies of the adventure.