Haviland's Chum Part 19
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"Who are ye--and what do ye here? Are ye friends or foes?"
Somala, instructed by Haviland, replied:
"We are no man's foes. Our mission here is a peaceful one--to collect the strange rare plants and insects of the land. That is all. Who are ye, and who is your chief?"
The herald broke into a loud, harsh, derisive laugh.
"Who is our chief?" he echoed. "You who gaze upon our standard, and ask 'Who is our chief?' Ye must be a _kafila_ of madmen."
"Is it the great Mushad? If so, we would fain see him, and talk.
Yonder, where the stones rise upon the plain," went on Somala, prompted by Haviland, and indicating a spot about a third of the distance between their position and the hostile line. "If he will advance, with three others--unarmed--we will do likewise, pledging our oath on the blessed Koran and on the holy _Kaba_ that we meet only in peace."
"I will inquire," replied the emissary, and turning, he went back.
"Supposing he accepts--which of us shall go?" said Oakley.
"I and Somala, and k.u.mbelwa," answered Haviland. "And I think Murad Ali," designating a dark sinewy Arab, a blood brother of Somala's.
"I claim to go instead of him," said Dr Ahern, quietly, but firmly.
"Oakley can remain in command."
"Very well," said Haviland. "Will they really be without arms, Somala?"
"They will perhaps have small arms concealed, Sidi. But they will not break faith."
"Then we will do the same, and on the same terms. Look! Here they come!"
Four men were seen to detach themselves from the group, and advance, one bearing the chief's terrible standard. When they were near the appointed spot, Haviland and the doctor, followed by Somala and k.u.mbelwa, also stepped forth.
"_Whou_!" growled the tall Zulu to himself. "A warrior without arms is like a little child, or an old woman."
For all that, he had taken the precaution of secreting a formidable knife beneath his _mutya_. He also carried his great war-s.h.i.+eld.
The Arabs stood, coldly impa.s.sive, awaiting them. They were stern, grim-looking, middle-aged men--their keen eyes glowing like coals beneath their bushy brows as they exchanged curt salutations. The chief differed not at all from the others in outward aspect: the same spare, muscular frame; the same grim and hawk-like countenance, haughty, impa.s.sive; the same turbaned head and flowing white garments. For all the solemn pledge of peace they had exchanged, it was evident that neither party trusted the other overmuch. They had halted a dozen paces apart, and were silently scanning each other. But what seemed to impress the Arabs most, as could be seen by their quick eager glances, was the aspect of k.u.mbelwa. They gazed upon the towering Zulu with undisguised admiration.
Haviland opened the talk with a few civilities in the current dialect, just to let them see he was no novice at interior travel, then he left the negotiations to Somala. They were peaceful travellers, and desired to quarrel with no man, but were well armed, and feared no man. They would send a present of cloth and bra.s.s wire for Mushad and some of his more distinguished followers, then they would go their different ways in peace and amity.
The ghost of a contemptuous smile flickered across the features of the Arabs at this prospect. Then Mushad said:
"And my slaves? They will be sent too?"
"Slaves?"
"My slaves. Those who have fled to your camp, O travellers. They must be sent back."
"But they have taken refuge with us. They have eaten our salt, O chief.
We cannot yield them up. Take presents from us instead."
"You are young, and therefore foolish," replied Mushad, staring Haviland in the eye with haughty contempt. "My slaves must be given up. I have said it."
"And if we refuse?"
"Look yonder. Have you as many fighters as these?"
"Not quite as many. But we are well armed, and, fighting in a good cause, we fear no man."
For a few moments neither party addressed the other. Meanwhile the doctor said hurriedly in English:
"What do you think, Haviland? Is it worth while risking all the expedition, and throwing away the fruits of these two years--and all their gain to science, mind--for the sake of a few miserable n.i.g.g.e.rs?
If we send them back, they'll only make slaves of them, and indeed that's all they're fit for."
"Let's see." And, turning to the chief, he resumed: "If we send back those who have sought refuge with us, will the chief solemnly promise that they shall not be harmed--that beyond the labour required of them they shall not be killed, or tortured, or ill-treated?"
A low growling chuckle escaped the Arab's deep chest, and his eyes flashed in haughty contempt.
"_La Illah il Allah_!" he blazed forth. "I will promise this much.
They shall groan beneath heavy loads, and shall eat stick in plenty.
But first, six of them shall hang by the heels till they are dead, with their eyes scooped out, and a live coal inserted in each socket.
Further I promise--that this last shall be the fate of every one in your camp who shall fall into our hands alive, if you hesitate further to send back my slaves. On the holy _Kaba_ I swear it. Now, make your choice. Will you return them, or will you not?"
Haviland looked at Ahern, who nodded his head.
"That settles it," he said in a cold, decisive tone, turning again to the slaver chief. "Big words, big threats do not frighten us. We send not back to you these people who have sought our protection, to be put to your devilish tortures."
For a moment, the two parties stood staring at each other in silence.
Then Mushad and his followers withdrew, feeing the others for a little distance, after which they turned, and stalked back to their awaiting forces, the green banner with its sinister symbol seeming to wave defiance and menace as it receded.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
BATTLE.
On regaining the shelter Haviland at once made it known to his followers that they had got to fight, and fight hard. They were already in position; that had been arranged during the parley.
"Can you trust these Arabs of yours, Haviland?" asked Oakley in a low tone. "Will they fight against their own countrymen?"
"Trust them? Rather. Besides, these are not their own countrymen.
Another tribe altogether. And they are always fighting among themselves. They enjoy it."
k.u.mbelwa, who had been placed in command of the armed bearers, was squatted on the ground, his snuff horn and spoon in his hand, and was taking copious quant.i.ties of snuff in the most unperturbed manner.
There was no excitement about him now. That was to come.
"They know our strength, or rather our weakness," said Haviland. "They can judge to a man by our tracks how many real fighters we have got.
Somala says they will try rus.h.i.+ng us."
Hardly had the words left his mouth when the rattle of a sudden volley, and a line of smoke from the enemy's front solved all doubts as to the intentions of the latter. Bullets came singing through the trees, and a shower of twigs fell about their ears in all directions. One, which had fallen just short, ricochetted and struck one of the armed bearers, killing him instantly. But the defenders reserved their fire.
Haviland's Chum Part 19
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Haviland's Chum Part 19 summary
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