CHAPTER FIVE
THE SLAVE GANGS
Our fathers praised the old accustomed things, The privilege of chiefs, the village wall Within whose circling dark Monumme* sings O' nights of belly-full and ease and all They taught us we should prize and praise (Only of dearth and pestilence should be our fears;) And now behind us are the green, regretted days. The water in the desert is our tears. Then ye, who at the waters drink Of Freedom, oh with Pity think On us, who face the desert brink Your fathers entered willingly.
Our fathers mocked the might of the Unseen, Teaching that only what we saw and felt Was good to fight about--what aye had been, Old-fashioned foods that their forefathers smelt, Old stars each night illuming the old sky, The warm rain softening ere women till the ground, The soft winds singing, only ask not why! And now our weeping is the desert sound. Oh ye, who gorge the daily good, Unquestioned heirs of all ye would, Spare not too timidly the blood Your fathers shed so willingly.
Our fathers taught us that the village good was best. Later we learned the red, new tribal creed That our place was the sun--night owned the rest Unless their treasure profited our greed! But now we gather nothing where our fathers sowed, For harvest grim the vultures wait in rows As, urged by greedier than us with gun and goad, Yoked two by two the slave safari goes. Oh ye, who from true judgment shrink, Nor gentleness with courage link, Be thoughtful when the cup ye drink Your fathers spilled so willingly.
----------* Monumme (Kiswahili)--Lit. male-man in his prime.----------
The guard procured his trays at last, delivered them at a run, returnedin a hurry and swallowed his own meal at a side-table. Then, with hismouth full, he reported for orders to the railway official, who wasstill checking figures. The room was beginning to grow empty.Coutlass and his Greek friend and the Goanese sat almost alone at thefar end of the other table, finishing their pudding. I had not noticeduntil then that the guard was a singularly little man. He stood veryfew inches taller than the seated official. I suppose that hitherto insome way his energy had seemed to increase his inches.
"Are there handcuffs in the caboose?"
"Yes, sir."
"Fetch them."
In spite of Brown of Lumbwa's protests, who wept at the notion ofhaving to eat alone, we were in the act of settling our bills andgoing. But mention of handcuffs suggesting entertainment, we litcigars and, imagining we stayed for love of him, Brown cooed at us.
"I've the darbies in my pocket, sir!"
I thought the guard looked more undersized than ever. He would havemade a fair-sized middle-weight jockey.
"Tell that Greek--Coutlass his name is--to come here."
With his tongue stuck into his cheek and a wink at us the guard obeyed.
"He says for you to go to 'ell, sir!" he reported after a moment'sinterview.
"Very well. Arrest him!"
"He'll need help," I interrupted. "My two friends and I--"
"Oh, dear no," said the official. "He is fully up to his work."
So we moved our chairs into position for a better view.
The guard advanced fox-terrierwise to within about six paces ofCoutlass.
"Up with both your 'ands, Thermopylea!" he snapped. "Your bloomin'reckonin's come!"
Coutlass showed tobacco-stained teeth for answer, and his friendsrutched their chairs clear of the table, ready for action. Yet theywere taken unawares. With a terrier's speed the guard pounced onCoutlass, seized him by the hair and collar, hurled him, chair and all,under a side-table, and was on the far side of the table kicking hisprostrate victim in the ribs before either Greek or Goanese--likewiseupset in the sudden onslaught--could gather themselves and interfere.
The Goanese was first on his feet. He hurled a soda-water bottle. Theguard ducked and the bottle smashed into splinters on the wall. Beforethe sound of smashing glass had died the Goanese was down again, laidout by blows on the nose and jugular. Then again the guard kickedCoutlass, driving him back under the table from which he was trying toemerge on all fours.
The second Greek looked more dangerous. His face grew dark with rageas the lips receded from his yellow teeth. He reached toward his boot,but judged there were too many witnesses for knife work and rushed insuddenly, yelling something in Greek to Coutlass as he picked up achair to brain the guard with. He swung the chair, but the guard metit with another one, dodged him, and tripped him as he passed. Inanother second it was his turn to be kicked in the ribs until he yelledfor mercy. (An extra large dinner and all those assorted drinks inaddition to what they had had in the train made neither man's windgood.)
No mercy was forthcoming. He was kicked, more and more violently,until the need of crawling through the door to safety dawned on hismuddled wits and he made his exit from the room snake fashion. By thattime Coutlass was on his feet, and he too elected to force the issuewith a chair. The guard sprang at the chair as Coutlass raised it,bore it down, and drove his fist hard home into the Greek's right eyethree times running.
"'Ave you 'ad enough?" he demanded, making ready for another assault.The Goanese had recovered and staggered to his feet to interfere, butCoutlass yielded.
"All right," he said, "why should I fight a little man? I surrender tosave bloodshed!"
"Put your 'ands out, then!"
Coutlass obeyed, and was handcuffed ignominiously.
"Outside, you!"
A savage kick landed in exactly the place where the Goanese leastexpected and most resented it. He flew through the door as if thetrain had started, and then another kick jolted Coutlass.
"Forward, march! Left-right-left-right!"
With hands manacled in front and the inexorable bantam guard behind,Coutlass came and stood before the railway official, who at lastcondescended not to seem engrossed in his accounts.
"'Ere he is, sir!"
"I suppose you know, my man, that I have magisterial powers on thisrailway?" said the official.
Coutlass glowered but said nothing.
"This is not the first time you have made yourself a nuisance. Youbroke dishes the last time you were here."
"That is long ago," Coutlass objected. "That was on the day the placewas first opened to the public. There was a celebration. Every onewas drunk."
"You broke plates and refused to pay the damage!'
"Officials were drunk. I saw them!"
"The damage amounted to seventeen rupees, eight annas."
"Gassharamminy! All the crockery from Mombasa to Nairobi isn't worththat amount! I shall not pay!"
"Now there's another bill for those drinks you and your friends stolewhen passengers' backs were turned. I saw you do it!"
"Why didn't you object at the time?" sneered Coutlass.
"Here is the bill: twenty-seven rupees, twelve annas. Total,forty-five rupees, four annas. You may make the manager a present ofthe odd sum for his injured feelings, and call it an even fifty.Settle now, or wait here for the down-train and go to jail in Mombasa!"
"Wait in this place?" asked Coutlass, aghast.
"Where else? There'll be a down passenger train in a week."
"I pay!" said the Greek, with a hideous grimace.
"Take the irons off him, then."
The guard unlocked the handcuffs and Coutlass began to fumble for amoney-bag.
"Give me a receipt!" he demanded, thumbing out the money.
"You are the receipt!" said the official. "An Englishman would havebeen sent to jail with a fine, and have paid the bill into the bargain.You're treated leniently because you can't be expected to understanddecent behavior. You're expected to learn, however. Next time youwill catch it hot!"
"All aboard!" called the guard cheerfully. "All aboard!"
"Tears, idle tears!"
said Brown of Lumbwa, taking my arm and Fred's.
"Thass too true--too true! They'd have jailed an Englishman--me,f'rinstance. One little spree, an' they'd put me in the Fort! Oneli'l indishcresshion an' they'd jug me for shix months! Him they letgo wi' a admonisshion! It's 'nother case o' Barabbas, an' a greatshame, but you can't change the English. They're ingcorridgible!Brown o' Lumbwa's my name," he added by way of afterthought.
"Take advice and get under blankets afore you go to sleep, gents!"warned the guard. All windows were once more opened wide, and everyone was panting.
"A job on this 'ere line's a circus!" he grinned. "I'm lucky ifthere's only one fight before Nairobi! 'Ave your blankets ready,gents! Cover yourselves afore you sleep!"
That sounded like a joke. The sweat poured from every one in streams.The hot hair cushions were intolerable. The dust gathered from thedesert stirred and hung, and there was neither air to breathe norcoolness under all those overhanging mountains.
"Get under your blankets, gents!" advised the guard, passing down thetrain; and then the train started.
I had the upper berth opposite Brown's, where it was hottest of allbecause of the iron roof. Drunk though he was, I noticed that thefirst thing Brown did after we had hoisted him aloft was to dig amongthe blankets like a dog and make the best shift he could of crawlingunder them. With one blanket twisted about his neck and shoulders andthe other tangled about his knees he remarked to the roof that his namewas Brown of Lumbwa, and proceeded to sob himself to sleep. He hadmade the journey a dozen times, so knew what he was doing. I drew onmy own blankets, and stifling, blowing out red dust, remembered apromise.
"Will!" I said. "Tell Fred what happened to us in Zanzibar while heand Monty viewed the moon!"
"We agreed not to," he answered, but it seemed to me he might arousehis own enthusiasm if he did tell.
"Who's afraid of Fred?" said I.
That settled it.
"One of you shall tell before you sleep!" Fred announced, sitting up."Who feareth not God nor regardeth me will blench before the prospectof a sleepless night! Speak, America!"
He took out a cleaning rod from his gun-case, and proceeded to stirWill's ribs and whack his feet. In a minute there was arough-house--panting, and bursts of laughter--cracks of the cleaningrod on Will's bare legs--the sound of hands slipping on sweaty arms--and
"Murder!" yelled Brown of Lumbwa, waking up. "Murder! Oh, mur-durrr!"
"Shut up, you fool!" I shouted at him. But he only yelled the louder.
"I knew these tears were not for nothing!" he wailed. "It waspremonition! Pass me the whisky! Pass it up here! Oh, look! They'reat each other's throats! Murder! Oh, mur-durrr! Pass the whisky orI'll come down and kill everybody in self-defense! Murrrrr-durrr!"
They stopped fooling because his idiotic screams could be heard alldown the train.
"There," said Brown, "you see, I've saved two worthless lives! Veryfoolish of me! Pass the whisky! See that I save a little for themorning!"
At that he fell asleep again; and because Fred threatened to start newcommotion and wake him unless Will or I confessed at once, Will took upthe tale, I leaning over the edge of my berth to prompt him. Fredlaughed all through the story, and finally crawled under his blanketagain to lie chuckling at the underside of Brown of Lumbwa's berth.
"I don't see what we've scored by telling him," said Will to me."We've merely given him a peg to hang jokes on!"
But I knew that now Will had told the story he would not, for veryshame, withdraw from the venture until we should have demonstrated thatno Lady Saffren Waldon, nor Sultan of Zanzibar, nor Germans, nor Arabscould make us afraid. And it seemed to me that was sufficientaccomplishment for one night.
The train's progress slowed and grew slower. The panting of the enginecame back to us in savage blasts. We were climbing by curves andzigzags up the grim dark wall of mountains. And as we mounted inch byinch, foot by foot, the air freshened and grew cooler--not really coolyet by a very Jacob's ladder of degrees, but delectable by comparison.
There was something peacefully exhilarating in the thought of risingfrom the red dead level of that awful plain, littered with the bones ofcamels and the slaves whom men pinned into the yokes to perish orsurvive in twos.* As we mounted foot by foot we fell asleep. Later,as we mounted higher, we shivered under blankets. There is a spiritand a spell of Africa that grip men even in sleep. The curt engineblasts became in my dreams the panting of enormous beasts that fought.A dream-continent waged war on itself, and bled. I saw the caravansgo, thousands long, the horsed and white-robed Arab in the lead--thepaid, fat, insolent askaris, flattering and flogging--slaves burdenedwith ivory and other, naked, new ones, two in a yoke, shivering underthe askari's lash, the very last dogged by vultures and hyenas, lean asthey, ill-nourished on such poor picking.
-----------* It was the cheerful Arab rule never to release one slave from theyoke if the other failed on the journey, on the principle that then thestronger would be more likely to care for, encourage, and drive theweaker.-----------
Then I saw elephants in herds five thousand strong that screamed andstormed and crashed, flattening out villages in rage that man shouldinterfere with them--in fear of the ruthless few armed men with riflesin their rear. Whole herds crashed pell-mell through artfully stagedundergrowth into thirty-foot-deep pits, where they lingered and died ofthirst, that Arabs (who sat smoking within hail until they died) mighthave the ivory.
And all I saw in my dream was nothing to the things I really was tosee. None of the cruelty of man, none of the rage and fear of animalhave vanished yet from Africa. Some of the cruelty is more refined;some of the herds are smaller; some good is making headway but Africais unchanged on the whole. It is a land of nightmares, with lovelyoases and rare knights errant; a land whose past is gloom, whosepresent is twilight and uncertainty, but whose future under the rule ofhumane men is immeasurable, unimaginable.
In my dream din followed crash and confusion until the engine'sscreaming at last awoke me. My blanket had fallen to the floor and Iwas shivering from cold. I jumped down to recover it and realized itwas dawn already. We were bowling along at a fine pace past greentrees and undulating veld, and I wondered why the engine should keep onscreaming like a thing demented. I knelt on Fred's berth to lean fromthe window and look ahead. We were going round a slight curve and Icould see the track ahead for miles.
Three hundred yards away a full-grown rhinoceros stood planted on thetrack, his flank toward us and his interest fixed on anything buttrains. He was sniffing the cool morning, looking the other way.
"Wake up, you fellows!" I yelled, and Fred and Will put their headsthrough the window beside me just in time to see the rhino take noticeof the train at last. When the engine was fifty yards from him hewheeled, took a short-sighted squint at it, sniffed, decided on war,and charged. The engineer crowded on steam.
"He's a game enough sport!" chuckled Fred.
"He's a fool!" grinned Will.
He was both, but he never flinched. He struck the cow-catcher head-onand tried to lift it sky-high. The speed and weight of the engine senthim rolling over and over off the track, and the shock of the blow camebackward along the train in thunderclaps as each car felt the check.The engineer whistled him a requiem and a cheer went up from fiftyheads thrust out of windows. But he was not nearly done for.
He got up, spun around like a polo pony to face the train, deliberatelypicked out level going, and charged again. This time he hit the car wewere in, and screams from the compartment behind us gave notice thatLady Saffren Waldon's maid was awake and looking through a window too.He hit the running-board beside the car, crumpled it to matchwood,lifted the car an inch off the track, but failed to disrail us. Thecar fell back on the metal with a clang, and the rhino recoiledsidewise, to roll over and over again. This time the impetus sent himover the edge of a gully and we did not doubt he was dead at the bottomof it.
The guard stopped th
e train and came running to see what the damageamounted to.
"Any gent got his rifle handy?" he shouted. "The train's ahead o'time. There's twenty minutes for sport!"
We dived for our rifles, but Coutlass had his and was on the trackahead of us, his eye a ghastly sight from the guard's overnightattentions, his face the gruesome color of the man who has eaten anddrunk too much, but his undamaged eye ablaze, and nothing whatever thematter with his enthusiasm.
"Give me a cartridge--a cartridge, somebody!" he yelled. "Gassharamminy!He's not dead! I saw him kick as he went over the edge legs upwards!Give me one cartridge and I'll finish him!"
By that time every male passenger was out on the track, some innight-shirts, some in shirts and pants, some with next-to-nothing atall on, but nearly all with guns. Somebody gave Coutlass a handful ofcartridges that fitted his Mauser rifle and he was off in the lead likea hero leading a forlorn hope, we after him. We searched high and lowbut lost all trace of the rhino, and at the end of half an hour theengine's whistle called us back. There were blood and hair all overthe engine--blood and hair on our car, but the rhino had been asdetermined in defeat as in attack, and if he died of his wounds hecontrived to do it alone and in dignity.
"That leaves Coutlass with six cartridges," said I, overtaking Fred."Let's hope their owner asks for them back."
The owner did ask for them. He stood with his hand out by the door ofthe Greek's compartment.
"You didn't use those cartridges," he said.
"But I will!" sneered Coutlass. "Out of my way!"
He sprang for his door and slammed it in the man's face, and the otherGreek and the Goanese jeered through the window. I caught sight ofHassan beside them looking gray, as unhappy black men usually do. Willsaw him too.
"The cannibal's ours," he said, "supposing we want him and play ourcards kind o' careful."
The next thing to delay the train was an elephant, who walked the trackahead of us and when the engine whistled only put on speed. Hypnotizedby the tracks that reached in parallel lines to the horizon, with trunkoutstretched, ears up, and silly tail held horizontally he set himselfthe impossible task of leaving us behind. The more we cheered, themore the engine screamed, the fiercer and less dignified became hisefforts; he reached a speed at times of fourteen or fifteen miles anhour, and it was not until, after many miles, he reached a culvert hedared not cross that he switched off at right angles. Realizing thenat last that the train could not follow him to one side he stood andwatched us pass, red-eyed, blown and angry. He had only one tusk, butthat a big one, and the weight of it caused him to hold his head at adrunken-looking angle.
"Stop the train!" yelled Coutlass, brandishing his rifle as he climbedto the seat on the roof. But the guard, likewise on the roof at his endof the train, gave no signal and we speeded on. We were already in theworld's greatest game reserve, where no man might shoot elephant or anyother living thing.
We began to pass herds of zebra, gnu, and lesser antelope--more than athousand zebra in one herd--ostriches in ones and twos--giraffes inscared half-dozens--rhinoceros--and here and there lone lions.Scarcely an animal troubled to look up at us, and only the giraffes ran.
Watching them, counting them, distinguishing the various breeds wethree grew enormously contented, even Will Yerkes banishing depression.Obviously we were in a land of good hunting, for the strictly policedreserve had its limits beyond which undoubtedly the game would roam.The climate seemed perfect. There was a steady wind, not too cold orhot, and the rains were recent enough to make all the world look greenand bounteous.
To right and left of us--to north and south that is--was wild mountaincountry, lonely and savage enough to arouse that unaccountable desireto go and see that lurks in the breast of younger sons and alltrue-blue adventurers. We got out a map and were presently tracing onit with fingers that trembled from excitement routes marked with tinyvague dots leading toward lands marked "unexplored." There were vastplateaus on which not more than two or three white men had trodden, andmountain ranges almost utterly unknown--some of them within sight ofthe line we traveled on. If the map was anything to go by we couldreach Mount Elgon from Nairobi by any of three wild roads. Fred and Iunderscored the names of several places with a fountain pen.
"And say!" said Will. "Look out of the window! If we once got awayinto country like that, who could follow us!"
"But you can't get away!" said a. weary voice from the upper berth."I'm Brown of Lumbwa. That's my name, gents, and I know, because Itried! Thought I was sound asleep, didn't you! Well, I weren't!Listen to me, what happens. You start off. They get wind of it. Theysend the police helter-skelter hot-foot after you--native police--noofficer--Masai they are, an' I tell you those Masai can make theirsixty miles a day when they're minded an' no bones about it either!Maybe the Masai catches you and maybe not. S'posing they do they can'tdo much. They've merely a letter with 'em commanding you to return atonce and report at the gov'ment office. And o' course--bein' ignorant,same as me, an' hot-headed, an' eager--you treat that contumelious an'tip the Masai the office to go to hell. Which they do forthwith.They're so used to bein' told to go to hell by wishful wanderers thatthey scarcely trouble to wait for the words. Presently they draw along breath an' go away again like smoke being blowed downwind. An'you proceed onward, dreamin' dreams o' gold an' frankincense an'freedom."
"Well, what next?" said I, for he made a long pause, either forreminiscence or because of headache.
"Whisky next!" he answered. "I left a little for the morning, didn'tI? I almost always do. Hold the bottle up to the light--no, no,you'll spill it!--pass it here! Ah-h-h--gug-gug!"
He finished what was left and tried to hurl the empty bottle throughthe window, but missed and smashed it against the woodwork.
"'Sapity!" he murmured. "Means bad luck, that does! Poor ole Brown o'Lumbwa--poor ole fella'. Pick up the pieces, boys! Pick 'em upquick--might get some o' poor ole Brown's bad luck--cut yourselves orwhat not. Pick 'em up careful now!"
We did, and it took ten minutes, for the splinters were scatteredeverywhere.
"Next time you do a thing like that you shall get out an' walk!"announced Fred.
"That 'ud be only my usual luck!" he answered mournfully. "But I wastellin' how you notify the Masai police to go to hell, an' they oblige.It's the last obligin' anybody does for you. Every native's a bushtelegraph--every sleepy-seemin' one of 'em! They know tracks in an'out through the scrub that ain't on maps, an' they get past you day ornight wi'out you knowin' it, an' word goes on ahead o' you--precedesyou as the sayin' is. You come to a village. You need milk, food,Porters maybe, an' certainly inf'mation about the trail ahead. Youask. Nobody answers. They let on not to sling your kind o' lingo.Milk--never heard o' such stuff--cows in them parts don't give milk!Food? They're starving. It isn't overeating makes their bellies big,it's wind. Porters? All the young men are lame, an' old 'uns too old,an' the middle 'uns too middle-aged--an' who ever heard of a nativewoman workin' anyhow. Who tills the mtama patch, then? It don't gettilled, or else the women only 'tend to it at tillin' time. Nobodyworks at anythin' about the time you come on the scene, for work ain'tmoral, pleasin' nor profitable, an' there you are! As for the trailahead, lions an' cannibals are the two mildest kind of calamities theyguarantee you'll meet."
"You don't have to believe them," I argued. "No man in his senseswould start without porters of his own--"
"Who never run away, an' never, oh never go lame o' course!" said Brown.
"Porters enough and to spare," I continued. "And food for a month ortwo--"
"How are you going to get away right under their noses with food for amonth or two?" demanded Brown. "You've got to live off the countryafter a certain distance. The further you go, the worse for you, forthey'll sell you nothing and give you less. By and by your porters gettipped off by the natives of some village you spend a night at. Youlook for 'em next mornin' and where are they? Gone! There are theirloads,
an' no one to carry 'em! You've got to leave your loads an'return, an' the police you told so stric'ly to go to hell meet you withbroad grins and lead you to the gov'ment office. There the collector,or, what's worse, the 'sistant collector, gives you a lecture on infamyan' the law of doin' as you'd be done by. You ask for your loads back,an' he laughs at you. An' that's all about it, excep' that next timeyou happen to want a favor done you by gov'ment you get a lectureinstead! No, you can't get away, an' it's no use tryin'! If you wasGreeks maybe, or Arabs, yes. Bein' English, the Indian Penal Code,which is white man's law in these parts, 'll get you sure!"
Brown of Lumbwa sighed at recollection of his wrongs, turned over, andwent to sleep again. The train bowled along over high veld, cutting inhalf magnificent distances and stopping now and then at stations whoseexcuse for existence was unimaginable. We stopped at a station at lastwhere the Hindu clerk sold tea and biscuits. The train disgorged itspassengers and there was a scramble in the tiny ticket office like therush to get through turnstiles at a football game at home, only thatthe crowd was more polyglot and less good-natured.
Coutlass, his Greek friend and the Goanese being old travelers on thatroute were out of the train first, first into the room, and firstsupplied with breakfast. Fred and I were nearly last. Brown of Lumbwarefused to leave his berth but lay moaning of his wrongs, and theiniquity of drink not based on whisky. I missed Will in the scramble,and although it was nearly half an hour before I got served I did notcatch sight of him in all that time.
I counted eleven nations taking tea in that tiny room and there weremembers of yet other tribes strolling the platform, holding themselvesaloof with the strange pride of the pariah the wide world over.
When Will came in he was grinning, and his ears seemed to stick outmore than usual, as they do when he is pleased with himself.
"Didn't I say fat Johnson was ours if we'd play our cards right?" hedemanded.
"You mean Hassan?"
"He'd had no breakfast. He'd had no supper. He had no money. TheGreeks took away what little money he did have on the pretext that hemight buy a return ticket and desert them. They seem to think that aday or two's starvation might make him good and amenable. I found himtrying to beg a bite from a full-blooded Arab, and say! they're aloving lot. The Arab spat in his eye! I offered to buy him eats buthe didn't dare come in here for fear the Greeks 'ud thrash him, so Islipped him ten rupees for himself and he's the gratefulest fat blackman you ever set eyes on. You bet it takes food and lots of it to keepthat belly of his in shape. There's a back door to this joint. Heslipped round behind and bribed the babu to feed him on the rear step,me standing guard at the corner to keep Greeks at bay. He's back inthe car now, playing possum."
"Let's trade him for Brown of Lumbwa," suggested Fred genially. "Callhim into our car and kick Brown out!"
"Trade nothing! I tell you the man is ours! Call him, and he'llbargain. Let him be, and the next time the Greeks ill-treat him he'llcome straight to us in hope we'll show him kindness."
"Swallow your tea quickly, Solomon!" Fred advised him. "There goes thewhistle!"
It was fresh tea, just that minute made for him. Will gulped down thescalding stuff and had to be thumped on the back according to Fred.With eyes filled with water he did not see what I did, and Fred was toobusy guarding against counter-blows. The most public place and thevery last minute always suited those two best for playing horse.
"Thought you said Johnson was asleep," said I.
"Possuming," coughed Will. "Shamming sleep to fool the Greeks."
"Possuming, no doubt," I answered, "but the Greeks are on. He has justcome scurrying out of Lady Saffren Waldon's compartment. The Greekswatched him and made no comment!"
We piled into our own appointed place and sat for a while in silence.
"All right," said Will at last, lighting his pipe. "I own I felt likequitting once. I'll see it through now if there's no ivory and nothingbut trouble! That dame can't thimblerig me!"
"We're supposed to know where the ivory is," grinned Fred. "Keep itup! They'll hunt us so carefully that they'll save us the trouble ofwatching them!"
"I'm beginning to think we do know where the ivory is," said I. "Ibelieve it's on Mount Elgon and they mean to prevent our getting it."
"If that turns out true, we'll have to give them the slip, that's all,"said Fred, and got out his concertina. Just as Monty always played chesswhen his brain was busy, Fred likes to think to the strains of hisinfernal instrument. One could not guess what he was thinking about,but the wide world knew he was perplexed, and Lady Saffren Waldon inthe next compartment must have suffered.
After a while he commenced picking out the tunes of comic songs, andbefore long chanced on one that somebody in the front part of the trainrecognized and began to sing. In ten minutes after that he was playingaccompaniments for a full train chorus and the scared zebra and impalabolted to right and left, pursued by Tarara-boom-de-ay,Ting-a-ling-a-ling, and other non-Homeric dirges that in those dayswere dying an all-too-lingering death.
It was to the tune of After the Ball that the engine dippedhead-foremost into a dry watercourse, and brought the train to ajaw-jarring halt. The tune went on, and the song grew louder, fornobody was killed and the English-speaking races have a code,containing rules of conduct much more stringent than the Law of theMedes and Persians. Somebody--probably natives from a long way off,who needed fuel to cook a meal--had chopped out the hard-wood plate onwhich the beams of a temporary culvert rested. Time, white ants,gravity and luck had done the rest. It was a case thereafter of walkor wait.
"Didn't I tell you?" moaned Brown of Lumbwa. "Didn't I say walkin' 'udbe only just my luck?"
So we walked, and reached Nairobi a long way ahead of Coutlass and hisgang, whose shoes, among other matters, pinched them; and we werecomfortably quartered in the one hotel several hours before the arrivalof Lady Saffren Waldon and those folk who elected to wait for thebreakdown gang and the relief train.
It was a tired hotel, conducted by a tired once-missionary person, justas Nairobi itself was a tired-looking township of small parallel roofsof unpainted corrugated iron, with one main street more than a milelong and perhaps a dozen side-streets varying in length from fifty feetto half a mile.
He must have been a very tired surveyor who pitched on that site andmarked it as railway headquarters on his map. He could have gone onand found within five miles two or three sightlier, healthier spots.But doubtless the day's march had been a long one, and perhaps he hadfever, and was cross. At any rate, there stood Nairobi, with its"tin-town" for the railway underlings, its "tin" sheds for the repairshops, its big "tin" station buildings, and its string ofpleasant-looking bungalows on the only high ground, where thegovernment nabobs lived.
The hotel was in the middle of the main street, a square frame buildingwith a veranda in front and its laundry hanging out behind. Nairobibeing a young place, with all Africa in which to spread, town plotswere large, and as a matter of fact the sensation in our corner roomwas of being in a wilderness--until we considered the board partition.Having marched fastest we obtained the best room and the only bath, butnext-door neighbors could hear our conversation as easily as if therehad been no division at all. However, as it happened, neither Coutlassand his gang nor Lady Saffren Waldon and her maid were put next to uson either side. To our right were three Poles, to our left a Jew and aGerman, and we carried on a whispered conversation without much risk.
She and her maid arrived last, as it was growing dusk. We had alreadyseen what there was to see of the town. We had been to the post-officeon the white man's habitual hunt, for mail that we knew wasnon-existent. And I had had the first adventure.
I walked away from the post-office alone, trying to puzzle out bymyself the meaning of Lady Saffren Waldon's pursuit of us, and of herfriendship with the Germans, and her probable connection with GeorgesCoutlass and his riff-raff. I had not gone far either on my stroll orwith the problem-
-perhaps two hundred yards down a grassy track thatthey had told me led toward a settlement--when something, not a sound,not a smell, and certainly not sight, for I was staring at the ground,caused me to look up. My foot was raised for a forward step, but whatI saw then made me set it down again.
To my right front, less than ten yards away, was a hillock about twicemy own height. To my left front, about twelve yards away was another,slightly higher; and the track passed between them. On the right-handhillock stood a male lion, full maned, his forelegs well apart and thedark tuft on the end of his tail appearing every instant to one side orthe other as he switched it cat-fashion. He was staring down at mewith a sort of scandalized interest; and there was nothing whateverfor me to do but stare at him. I had no weapon. One spring and a jumpand I was his meat. To run was cowardice as well as foolishness, theone because the other. And without pretending to be able to read alion's thoughts I dare risk the assertion that he was puzzled what todo with me. I could very plainly see his claws coming in and out oftheir sheaths, and what with that, and the switching tail, and thesense of impotence I could not take my eyes off him. So I did not lookat the other hillock at first.
But a sound like that a cat makes calling to her kittens, only greatlymagnified, made me glance to the left in a hurry. I think that up tothat moment I had not had time to be afraid, but now the goose-fleshbroke out all over me, and the sensation up and down my spine was ofmelting helplessness.
On the left-hand hillock a lioness stood looking down with muchintenser and more curious interest. She looked from me to her mate,and from her mate to me again with indecision that was no morereassuring than her low questioning growl.
I do not know why they did not spring on me. Surely no two lions evercontemplated easier quarry. No victim in the arena ever watched theweapons of death more helplessly. I suppose my hour had not come.Perhaps the lions, well used to white men who attacked on sight withlong-range weapons, doubted the wisdom of experiments on something new.
The lioness growled again. Her mate purred to her with an uprisingreassuring note that satisfied her and sent my heart into my boots.Then he turned, sprang down behind the hillock, and she followed. Thenext I saw of them they were running away like dogs, jumping lowbushes and heading for jungle on the near horizon faster than I hadimagined lions could travel.
That ended my desire for further exercise and solitude. I made for thehotel as fast as fear of seeming afraid would let me, and spent fifteenaggravating minutes on the veranda trying to persuade Fred Oakes that Ihad truly seen lions.
"Hyenas!" he said with the air of an old hunter, to which he was quiteentitled, but that soothed me all the less for that.
"More likely jackals," said Will; and he was just as much as Fredentitled to an opinion.
While I was asserting the facts with increasing anger, and they wereamusing themselves with a hundred-and-one ridiculous reasons fordisbelieving me, Lady Saffren Waldon came. She had, as usual,attracted to herself able assistance; a settler's ox-cart brought herbelongings, and she and her maid rode in hammocks borne by portersimpressed from heaven knew where. It was not far from the station, butshe was the type of human that can not be satisfied with meekbeginnings. That type is not by any means always female, but thewomen are the most determined on their course, and come the biggestcroppers on occasion.
She was determined now, mistress of the situation and of her plans.She left to her maid the business of quarreling about accommodations;(there was little left to choose from, and all was bare and bad);dismissed the obsequious settler and his porters with perfunctorythanks that left him no excuse for lingering, and came along theveranda straight toward us with the smile of old acquaintance, and suchan air of being perfectly at ease that surprise was disarmed, and therudeness we all three intended died stillborn.
"What do you think of the country?" she asked. "Men like it as a rule.Women detest it, and who can blame them? No comfort--no manners--nocompanionship--no meals fit to eat--no amusement! Have you killedanything or anybody yet? That always amuses a man!"
We rose to make room for her and I brought her a chair. There wasnothing else one could do. There is almost no twilight in that part ofEast Africa; until dark there is scarcely a hint that the day iswaning. She sat with us for twenty or thirty minutes making smalltalk, her maid watching us from a window above, until the sun went downwith almost the suddenness of gas turned off, and in a moment we couldscarcely see one another's faces.
Then came the proprietor to the door, with his best ex-missionary airof knowledge of all earth's ways, their reason and their trend.
"All in!" he called. "All inside at once! No guest is allowed afterdark on the veranda! All inside! Supper presently!"
"Pah!" remarked Lady Saffren Waldon, rising. "What is it about somemen that makes one's blood boil? I suppose we must go in."
She came nearer until she stood between the three of us, so close thatI could see her diamond-hard eyes and hear the suppressed breathingthat I suspected betrayed excitement.
"I must speak with you three men! Listen! I know this place. Therooms are unspeakable--not a bedroom that isn't a megaphone, magnifyingevery whisper! There is only one suitable place--the main dining-room.The proprietor leaves the oil-lamp burning in there all night. Peoplego to bed early; they prefer to drink in their bedrooms because itcosts less than treating a crowd! I shall provide a light supper, andmy maid shall lay the table after everybody else is gone up-stairs.Then come down and talk with me. Its important! Be sure and come!"
She did not wait for an answer but led the way into the hotel. Therewas no hall. The door led straight into the dining-room, and the noisycrowd within, dragging chairs and choosing places at the two longtables, made further word with her impossible, even if she had nothurried up-stairs to her room. "What do you make of it--of her? Isn'tshe the limit?"
The words were scarcely out of Will's mouth when a roar that made thedishes rattle broke and echoed and rumbled in the street outside. Theinstant it died down another followed it--then three or four--then adozen all at once. There came the pattering of heavy feet, like thesound of cattle coming homeward. Yet no cattle--no buffaloes everroared that way.
"Now you know why I ordered you all inside," grinned the ex-missionaryowner of the place. I divined on the instant that this was his habit,to stand by the door before supper and say just those words to the lastarrivals. I had a vision of him standing by his mission dooraforetime, repeating one jest, or more likely one stale euphuism nightafter night.
"Lions?" I asked, hating to take the bait, yet curious beyond power toresist.
"Certainly they're lions! Did you think you were dreaming? Are youglad you came in when I called you? Would you rather go out again now?Make a noise like a herd of cattle, don't they! That's becausethey're bold. They don't care who hears them! The day is ours. Itused to be theirs, but the white man has come and broken up theirempire. The night is still theirs. They're reveling in it! They'reboasting of it! Every single night they come swaggering through likethis just after sunset. They'll come again just before dawn, roaringthe same way. You'll hear them. They'll wake you all right. Notrouble in this hotel about getting guests down-stairs for earlybreakfast!"
"I'll get my rifle and settle the hash of one or two of them before Ieat supper!" announced Will, turning away to make good his words. Butthe proprietor seized him by the arm.
"Don't be foolish! It has been tried too often! I never allowed suchfoolishness at my place. A party up-street fired from the windows.Couldn't see very well in the dark, but wounded two or three lions.What happened, eh? Why the whole pack of lions laid siege to thehouse! They broke into the stable and killed three horses, a donkey,and all the cows and sheep. There weren't any shutters on the housewindows--nothing but glass. It wasn't long before a young lion broke awindow, and in no time there were three full-grown ones into the houseafter him. They injured one man so severely that he died nex
t day.They only shot two of the lions that got inside. The other two gotsafely away, and since that time people here have known enough not tointerfere with them except by daylight! They'll do no harm to speak ofunless you fire and enrage them. They'll kill the stray dogs, or anyother animal they find loose; and heaven help the man they meet! Butthe place to be after six P.M. in Nairobi is indoors. And it's theplace to stay until after sunrise! Hear them roar! Aren't theymagnificent? Listen!"
The noise that twenty or thirty lions can make, deliberately bent onmaking it and roaring all at once, is unbelievable. They throw theirheads up and glory in strength of lungs until thunders take secondplace and the listener knows why not the bravest, not the mostdangerous of beasts has managed to impose the fable of his grandeur onmen's imagination.
We were summoned to the table by the din of Georges Coutlass rising tonew heights of gallantry.
"Gassharamminy!" he shouted, thumping with a scarred fist. With apoultice on his eye he looked like a swashbuckler home from the wars;and as he had not troubled to shave himself, the effect was heightened."What sort of company sits when a titled lady enters!" He seized abig spoon and rapped on the board with it. "Blood of an onion! Rise,every one!"
Everybody rose, although there were men in the room in no mind to betold their duty by a Greek. Lady Saffren Waldon walked to a place nearthe head of the table with a chilling bow. As usual when night and theyellow lamplight modified merciless outlines, she looked lovely enough.But she lacked the royal gift of seeming at home with the vulgar herd.She could make men notice her--serve her, up to a certain point--andfeel that she was the center of interest wherever she might choose tobe; but because she was everlastingly on guard, she lacked the powerto put mixed company at ease.
Only the ex-missionary at the head of the table seemed to considerhimself socially qualified to entertain her. She was at no pains toconceal contempt for him.
"You honor my poor hotel!" he assured her.
"It is certainly a very poor hotel," she answered.
"Do you expect to remain long, may I ask?"
"What right have you to ask me questions? Tell that native to go awayfrom behind my chair. My own maid will wait on me!"
Whether purposely or not, she cast such a chill upon the company thateven Georges Coutlass subsided within himself, and, though he ate likea ravening animal, did not talk. Almost the only conversation wasbetween the owner and the native servants, who waited at tableabominably and were noisily reprimanded, and argued back. Eachreprimand increased their inefficiency and insolence. Natives detest afussy, noisy white man.
Bad food, indifferent cooking, and no conversation worthy of the nameproduced gloom that drove every one from table as soon as possible.Even the proprietor, with unsatiable curiosity exuding from him, but nospirit for forcing issues, departed to a sanctum of his own upsomewhere under the roof. The boys cleared the tables. The smell offood spread itself and settled slowly. A half-breed butler servedcountless orders of drinks on trays, and sent them upstairs tobedrooms. Presently we three sat alone in the long bare room.
"Shall we wait for her?" I asked. "Haven't we had enough of her?"
Fred laughed. "She can scarcely cut the throats of all three of us!"
"I said we'd never hear the last of it!" said Will, with a scowl at me.
"Shall we wait for her?" I repeated.
My own vote would have been in favor of going upstairs and leaving herto her own devices. I could see that Fred was afire with curiosity,but guessed that Will would agree with me. However, the point wassettled for us by the arrival of her maid, who smiled with unusualcondescension and produced from a basket an assortment of drinks, nuts,cigarettes and sandwiches. She spread them on the table and went awayagain.
We sat and smoked for an hour after that, imagining every moment thatLady Saffren Waldon would be coming. Whenever we yawned in chorus androse to go upstairs, a footstep seemed to herald her arrival. To havepassed her on the stairs would have been too awkward to be amusing.
At last we really made up our minds to go to bed; and then she reallycame, appearing at the bend in the stairs just as I set my foot on thelower step, so we trooped back to our chairs by the window. She wasdressed in a lacy silk negligee, and took pains this time to appeargracious.
"I waited until I felt sure we should not be disturbed," she said,smiling. "Won't you come and sit down?"
We brought our chairs to the table, she sitting at one end and wetogether at one side, Fred nearest her and I farthest away. She made asign toward the wine and sandwiches, and offered us cigarettes of asort I had never seen. Without feeling exactly like flies in aspider's web, we were nervous as schoolboys.
"What do you want with us?" asked Will at last.
She laughed and took a cigarette.
"Don't let us talk too loud. You three men are after the Tippoo Tibivory. So is the Sultan of Zanzibar. So is the German government. Soam I."
She gave the statement time to do its own work, and smoked a while insilence. The strength of her position, and our weakness, lay in therebeing three of us. Any one of us might let drop an ill-considered wordthat would commit the others. I think we all felt that, for we sat andsaid nothing.
"You answer her, Fred," I said at last, and Will nodded agreement.
So Fred got up and sat on the other side of the table, where we couldsee his face and he ours.
"You haven't answered Mr. Yerkes' question," he said. "What do you wantwith us, Lady Saffren Waldon?"
"I want an understanding with you. I will be plain to begin with. Weall know you know where the ivory is. Lord Montdidier is not the manto connect himself with any wild goose chase. We don't pretend to knowhow you came by the secret or why he has gone to London, but we aresure you know it, perfectly sure, and for five or six reasons. We arewilling to buy the secret from you at your own price."
"Who are 'we'?" asked Fred pointedly, helping himself to nuts.
"The German government, the Sultan of Zanzibar, and myself."
Fred smiled. "Between you you probably could pay," he remarked.
"I will tell you a few hard facts," she said, "now that the ice isbroken. You will never be allowed to make full use of your own secret.You have arrived at an inopportune moment, for you and for us. Ourplans have been on foot a long time. Our search has been systematic,and it is a mathematical certainty we shall find what we look for intime. We do not propose to let new arrivals on the scene spoil all ourplans and disappoint us just because they happen to have information.If you go ahead you will be watched like mice whom cats are after. Ifyou find the ivory, you will be killed before you can make thediscovery known!"
"We seem up against it, don't we!" smiled Fred.
"You are! But you can save us trouble, if you will. Name your price.Tell me your secret. Go your way. If your story proves true you shallbe paid by draft on London."
"Are you overlooking the idea," asked Fred, "that we might tell thesecret to the British government, and be contented with our ten percent. commission?"
"I am not. You are expressly warned against any such foolishness. Inthe first place, you will be killed at once if you dare. In thesecond place, how do you know the British government would pay you tenper cent.?"
"I've had dealings with the English!" laughed Fred.
"Bah! Do you think this is Whitehall? Do you think the officials hereare proof against temptation? When I tell you that in Whitehall itselfI can bribe two officials out of three, perhaps you'll understand mewhen I say that all these people have their price! And the price islow! Tell them where the ivory is--lead them to it--and they'll swearthey found it themselves, so as to keep the commission themselves! Andas for you--you three"--she sneered with the most sardonic, thin-lippedsmile I ever saw--"there are lions out here, and buffalo, snakes,fevers, native uprisings--more ways of being rid of you than by chokingyou to death with butter!"
"Do you suppose" asked Fred, "that Lord Montdidi
er has no influence inLondon, that he--"
"I know he had influence. I should have told you first, perhaps. LordMontdidier was murdered on board ship. A telegram reached Mombasayesterday at ten A.M. from up-coast saying that the body of an unknown,Englishman had been picked up at sea by an Arab dhow, with the face toobadly eaten by fish to be recognizable. You may take it from me, thatis Lord Montdidier's corpse."
The calm announcement was intended to surprise us, and it did, but theresult surprised her.
"You she-devil!" said Will. "If you and your gang have murdered thatfine fellow I'll turn the tables on you! You go up-stairs, and pray heisn't dead! Pray that corpse may prove to be some one's else! If he'sdead I'll guarantee you it's the worst day's work you ever had a handin! Go up-stairs!"
He flung away the cigarette she had given him and knocked his chairaway.
"Sit down, you young fool!" she said. "Don't make all that noise!"
But Will had none of the respect for titles acquired by marriage thatmade most men an easy mark for her.
"Leave the room!" he ordered. "Go away from us! Just you hope that'sa lie about Monty, that's all!"
"Sit down!" she repeated. "I admit I am a little previous. The storyis unconfirmed yet. Sit down and be sensible! Something of the sortwill happen to all of you unless you three men get religion!"
But Will began to pace the floor noisily, stopping to glare at her eachtime he turned.
"Is there any sense in protracting the scene?" asked Fred.
"No," she admitted. "I see you are too hot-headed to be reasoned with.But it makes little difference!Fever--animals--climate--sun--flood--accident--natives--there areexcuses in plenty--explanations by the dozen! I will say good night,then--and good-by!"
"Yes, good-by!" growled Will, facing her with his back to the stairs."You take us for men with a price, do you?"
"All men have a price," she smiled bitterly. "Only it is no useoffering flowers to pigs! We must treat pigs another way--pigs, andyoung fools! And fools old enough to know better!" she added with anod toward Fred, who bowed to her in mock abasement--too politely, Ithought.
Will got out of her way and she went up-stairs with the manner of anempress taking leave of subjects. Fred swept her food and wine fromthe table and stowed it in a corner, and we sat down at the table again.
"The whole thing's getting ridiculous." he said.
"Why don't we hunt up some official in the morning," I proposed, "andsimply expose her?"
"No use," said Will. "She never followed us up here and tried thatgame without being sure of her pull. Besides--what kind of a talecould we tell without letting on we're after the ivory? I vote we seethe game through to a finish."
"Good!" said Fred. "I agree!"
"The only clue we've got," said I, "is Courtney's advice about MountElgon."
"And what Coutlass said in Zanzibar about German East," added Will.
"Tell you what," said Fred, rapping the table excitedly. "Instead offalling foul of this government by slipping over the dead-line, why notrun down to German East--pretend to search for the stuff downthere--and go from German East direct to Mount Elgon, giving 'em allthe slip. Who's got the map?"
"It's up-stairs," I said. "I'll fetch it."
There was nothing like silence in the rooms above. Men were smokingand drinking in one another's rooms. Some doors were open to makeconversation easier across the landing, and nobody was asleep. But Iwas surprised to see Georges Coutlass leaning against the door-post ofthe room he shared with the other Greek and the Goanese, obviously onguard, but against whom and on whose behalf it was difficult to guess.
"Are you off to bed?" he asked, piercing me with his unbandaged eye."Why don't the others go, too?"
It dawned on me what he was after.
"Take the wine if you want it," I said. "None of us will prevent you."
He went down-stairs in his stocking feet, leaving his own door wide. Iglanced in. The other Greek and the Goanese were asleep. Hassan layon the floor on a mat between their cots. He looked up at me. I didnot dare speak, but I smiled at him as friendly as I knew how and madea gesture I hoped he would interpret as an invitation to come andattach himself to our party. Then I hurried on, for Coutlass wascoming back with a bottle of wine in each hand.
I was five minutes in our bedroom. In a minute I knew what hadhappened. We had left the door locked, but the lock was a common one;probably the keys of other doors fitted it, and there was not one thingin the room placed exactly where we had left it. Everything was moreor less in place, but nothing quite.
I returned empty-handed down-stairs, locking the bedroom door behind me.
"Listen, you chaps!" I said. "While we waited for that woman she andher maid went through our things again!"
"How d'you know it was she?" asked Fred.
"No mistaking the scent she uses. Where's our money?"
"Here in my pocket."
"Good. The map's gone, though!"
Will showed big teeth in the first really happy smile for several days.
"Good enough!" he said. "Let's go to bed now. I'll bet you my shareof the ivory they're poring over the map with a magnifying-glass!D'you remember the various places we underscored? They'll think it's acryptogram and fret over it all night! Come on--come to bed!"