In Search of the Okapi Part 16

"It was a mercy you altered our course just at that moment, Compton."

"Wasn't it? It was touch and go. We stood to be run down or knocked into smithereens in another minute;" and Venning shook Compton's hand.

"Did you see them go over like ninepins," laughed Compton, "when they struck? But I'm not claiming any credit, you know. If it had not been for Mr. Hume----"

"We all did our share," said the hunter, "and we have every cause to be thankful; but we must not imagine that the chase is over."

CHAPTER VII

THE THOUSAND ISLANDS

They shoved off again, and Compton, being the least tired, took the sculls and pushed on slowly in search of an anchorage for the night.

They pa.s.sed many likely places, but Mr. Hume had one objection or another to them, and the spot that finally satisfied him was a small wooded island flanked by others of larger size, and so placed that if they were menaced from any side there would be an opening for escape in the opposite direction. The channel into which they steered was so narrow that the branches of the trees joined overhead, and when they tied up, the Okapi was completely hidden.

Before forcing their way into the leafy tunnel, they had taken down the awning, but now, after having broken away many branches, they refixed the canvas roof and drew the mosquito-curtains round, after which they sought out and killed all the insect pests that remained within the nets. There was no danger in showing a light, and accordingly the lantern was hung amids.h.i.+ps, the spirit-lamp lit, to prepare a nouris.h.i.+ng and at the same time "filling" soup. They made a hearty meal, got into warmer clothing, oiled the rifle-barrels, arranged their rugs, and prepared for the night, which came on them with a rush, heralded by the noise of birds seeking their accustomed roosting-places. Such an uproar the boys had not before heard. It seemed as if the Zoological Gardens had emptied its noisiest inhabitants. Parrots flew across the river, every one talking at the top of its voice, while colonies of ibis croaked out the news of the day in gruff, discordant notes; cranes flying laboriously, with long legs trailing, emitted their deep "honks;" frogs lifted up their voices from out the reeds, and at intervals came the booming cry of the shovel-beaked bittern, and the harsh, baboon-like bark of the green-crested toucan. The noise of the home-going of the winged mult.i.tudes ceased as the night drew its black mantle over the river.

Out of the spell of silence there grew presently other voices, soft whisperings, deep sighings; mysterious sounds telling of things stealthy and oppressed by the stillness; abrupt splas.h.i.+ngs that startled by their suddenness: grunts, rumblings, and the roar of bull crocodiles. It must not, however, be supposed that there was a continuous succession of sounds. Each noise had its own place, and there would be often long intervals between one sound and another.

Venning, who had the first watch, found this out. He would hear a startling splash, followed by a snort and the snap of jaws; then all would be quiet for several minutes, when, from another direction, would come perhaps a heavy sigh; then another interval of silence, again a splash, and so on until the impression grew on him that the beasts and reptiles who made the noises were working slowly towards him in a circle.

It was his first night on guard in the wilderness, and he felt the uneasiness of the hunter who discovers how limited are his senses compared with those of the wild creatures about him. Man, himself the most secret, the most cunning, the most deadly, and, if truth must be told, the most bloodthirsty, for he kills too often for the love of killing, is the most helpless in the dark. His sense of hearing, of sight, and of smell, fail him--thanks to a wise provision of Nature in the interests of her other children--for if man had the eyes of a cat, the nose of a wolf, and the hearing of a deer, he would have cleared the earth of its creatures, who would have had no rest night or day.

All the time, too, the river talked, as it rolled its great flood along, sending up a soft volume of song from the innumerable sounds produced as it washed along the islands and foamed against the rocks of the sh.o.r.es. Presently, down the narrow channel, there came a rush of water which rocked the boat, and next Venning heard close at hand a strange noise, which he took to be made by a large animal cropping at the river-gra.s.s. He looked about for a weapon, and, picking up the long boat-hook, lashed his hunting-knife to the iron hook at the top, converting it into a lance. He had read of hippos swamping boats by seizing the narrow bows or keel in their vast jaws, and he wished to be prepared for a possible attack. Presently the boat again rocked as another animal took to the water, then the new-comer dislodged the other with a snap of the jaws, and the first, with a complaining grunt, surged down the channel. Venning could see nothing in the inky blackness, but he knew the beast had seen the Okapi from the short note of alarm it sounded. Immediately the alarm was repeated. Snorts and splashes arose from all sides. Some great beast who had been standing unnoticed within a few yards of the boat, crashed through the bushes into the water with an uproar that woke the sleepers.

"What is it?" cried Compton.

Mr. Hume made a dart for his rifle.

The Okapi rocked and heaved, was lifted at the bows to fall back with a splash.

"Hippo," gasped Venning, making a drive with his weapon through the mosquito curtains. "Got him!--no!--missed!"

"What's that you've got there, Venning?"

"Sort of harpoon."

"By gum!" said Mr. Hume, taking the weapon, "I'm glad you missed the beggar. I would not give much for our chances if he turned crusty in this place."

The hippo reappeared aft with a snort, and, much to their relief, continued down the channel into the wider waters.

"Find the watch pleasant?" asked Compton, sleepily, as Mr. Hume turned in.

"Awfully cheerful," said Venning, earnestly; "but I'm not selfish, and you can take your turn at it on the tick of the hour."

Compton dived for his rugs, and Venning once more returned to his duties with his harpoon over his knees, and a string of winged visitors entering joyously by the hole he had made in the curtain.

He pinned his handkerchief over the rent to stop further free entrance, then made war on those which had entered--an amus.e.m.e.nt which carried him well into the fourth and last hour of the first watch. Then he sat up to listen for the old sounds--the groans and the snorts--but they had ceased. A mist, like a wet blanket, had settled down over the Okapi, over the islands and the river; and, though any sounds made on the water were startlingly distinct, confined as the sound-waves were by the mist, the creatures had evidently gone to sleep. There was, however, one visitor faithful to him. The light of the lantern, which showed the rolling wreaths of the mist, just reached the water, and in the reflection he saw two greenish points. After long looking, he made out that these were the eyes of a crocodile, whose body was half in and half out of the water, the tail end of him being anch.o.r.ed on the little island. At eleven o'clock he roused Compton by dragging at his ankle.

Compton sat up, rubbed his eyes, and drew his rug over his shoulders.

"What's the countersign, comrade?" he asked, with a yawn.

"Countersign?"

"Yes; when the watch is relieved he has to say something or other, as a guide to the new man."

"Oh, I see. Well, let me introduce you to the companion of your watch. See those green points out there?"

"Yes--like dull gla.s.s."

"That's your new chum. He's been there an hour without moving, and it's no good trying to stare him down."

"What is it?"

"Crocodile. Good night. Wish you joy;" and Venning crept under his waterproof sheet with a sigh of relief.

Neither of the two boys smoked, taking the advice of Mr. Hume, who persuaded them that tobacco acted as a poison when used too early, and spoiled good hunting. It lowered the action of the heart, affected the hearing and the sense of smell. In place of a pipe, therefore, Compton found comfort in chewing, not tobacco, but a meat lozenge. As he chewed he watched the two little dull green spots, and the crocodile watched him with the deadly patience that so often brings grist to the mill, or, rather, food to his jaws.

It was not a pleasant companions.h.i.+p, and Compton, after a long attempt to stare the reptile down, turned his back to it and watched the efforts of several large moths to get at the light through the mosquito curtains. He could not so much see them as hear them, from the way they b.u.mped into the net, and the little soft splash they made as they dropped into the water. By-and-by there came another sound, made by some large fish, who had also been attracted by the light, and then by the fat moths.

The news that these were good eating quickly spread under water, and presently there was quite a gathering about the boat. Then Compton turned to look at his unwelcome watcher. He was still at his post, his eyes still fixed in an unwinking stare, but seemingly brighter than before. Yes, he was evidently nearer. He was moving! Compton picked up the boat-hook with its dagger-ended spear, and prepared for the attack. Slowly, almost without a ripple, the reptile slithered into the water; then came a rush, a snap of jaws, a swirl of waters, and something heavy and wet came right through the mosquito nets, landing in the well of the boat with a tremendous whack.

"Look out," yelled Compton; "keep out of his reach."

"What the d.i.c.kens is it now?" roared Mr. Hume, as a series of resounding thwacks arose out of the well.

Compton drove his harpoon into the well, and held on like grim death, as the impaled thing lashed out to free itself.

"A crocodile!" he shouted. "I can't hold him down much longer."

"Crocodile be blowed!" shouted Mr. Hume, unhooking the lantern and directing its light into the well. "It's a fish."

"But," said Compton, "I saw the crocodile. It came straight for the boat. Venning saw it too."

"It was over there," said Venning, peering into the dark.

"Then the fish must have jumped aboard to escape the crocodile.

Anyway, we can have fish-steak for breakfast," and Mr. Hume quieted the fish with a blow on the head.

"I made sure it was the crocodile," said Compton, in an aggrieved tone. "Look at the hole in the curtains; there'll be tons of skeeters aboard."

"You turn in and I'll smoke," said the hunter, who smoked enough for three; and, with his pipe filled and lit, he took up the watch.

Once more the little party settled down to pa.s.s the night, and this time there was no disturbance until, in the chill of the early morning, the sleepers were awakened to get in the awning, to make all s.h.i.+pshape aboard, and to prepare breakfast. The fish was not handsome-looking, but he cut up into really good steaks, which were grilled on a gridiron fitted over the stove, and, with hot coffee and a biscuit apiece, they ate a meal which made them proof against the depressing surroundings.

Both Compton and Venning, as soon as there was light enough, took a careful look around for the crocodile; but though that wily brute was probably near, he did not show himself. They could, however, see the track made by the hippo when he had broken through into the water, and Mr. Hume, stepping ash.o.r.e, went up this track to spy around. He returned with the report that the natives were signaling from village to village by columns of smoke sent up from fires fed with damp wood to make a heavy smoke.

"They will be keeping a sharp look-out, and we had better remain here."