In Search of the Okapi Part 29

"The young ones ask for room; they shove and push to reach up into the air, to feel the touch of the rain, to enjoy the warmth of the sun."

"And the big trees?"

"They cry out against the young, who come thrusting their branches up from below, who crowd in upon the old people."

"And the squeaking noise?"

"That is made by one branch rubbing against another. Wow! It is nothing. Hear them talk when a wind is blowing; then it is as if all the great ones were gathered together roaring to the four comers, with the voice of the storm booming from the skies, and the bellowing of a great herd of bulls, and in between the cries of women in fear and the screaming of tigers. Mawoh! It is then a man would hide in a hole. Now it is quiet; they but whisper among themselves half asleep, but in the morning they will stretch their limbs."

"Of course," said Compton, "and yawn!"

"How will a tree grow if it does not stretch? It bends this way and that, to loosen the bark, to make its body and its arms supple and tough, so that it can bend to the blast and yet spring back straight again. Tell me what would happen if the young tree were bark-bound.

It would die--as these old ones die smothered by the creeping arms around them. Ow aye, they stretch in the morning and grow."

So they talked in the night, and listened to the strange sounds that came mysteriously out of the brooding silence.

CHAPTER XIII

THE TREE-LION

The next day they came to the end of the trail that Muata had followed with the river-man; but the scent was still on the ground, and for a mile or so the jackal led the way, slinking along like a shadow with his nose down and his bushy tail drooping. Then he stopped, and, after a look up into the face of his master, stretched himself out, as much as to say his part was over.

"They have gained on us," said Mr. Hume.

"They rose early and travelled fast," said Muata. "The scent is cold, but there is the trail marked on the tree;" and he pointed to a slight cut in the bark, from which had oozed a thick juice, now caked hard.

"Some one pierced the bark."

"It is the sign of the wise woman, and she made it, maybe, with a wire from her armlets."

They went on more slowly, guided only by the faint cuts at intervals on tree-trunks, all of which "bled," giving out a milky sap; and then again the sign failed. About them were the trees in endless columns, overhead was the roof of leaves, and on the ground was a tangle of undergrowth and decaying vegetation, that gave out a moist earthy smell, which set the lungs labouring for oxygen. The boys were uncomfortable. Their skins were clammy, their eyes were heavy, and their limbs languid. Mr. Hume was glad to sit down, and even Muata showed the effect of the muggy atmosphere in a dulling of his skin. The river-man, sullen and silent, was alone apparently unaffected; but they did not reckon him one of the party, for no one of them had broken through his apathy.

Muata began patiently to make casts in that labyrinth that seemed to hold no living thing but themselves, and as he went slowly through the undergrowth, the boys went off to sleep, from which they awoke, heavy and unrefreshed, at the cry to "fall in."

The trail had been recovered fifty yards further on, the intervening ground having been covered apparently by the cannibals without leaving a sign. Venning blundered on a little way before he discovered that he had left his bundle behind.

"I'll wait for you," said Compton, sitting down on a tree-stump, while Mr. Hume, who had left his position in the rear to consult with Muata, had his back turned.

Venning recovered his bundle, and turned to retrace his steps, but for the time his heavy eyes were no longer faithful guides, and, instead of taking the right direction, he entered a likely looking opening through the trees to the left and hurried on. When he had covered a distance that should have brought him to Compton, he stopped.

"Halloa! halloa!" he cried.

There was no answer.

"Compton! I say, no larks. Where are you?"

A little in advance he heard the rustle of leaves, and went on quickly. When he reached the place where the sound came from there was nothing there, and he gathered his wits together. With a little laugh at his carelessness, he began to retrace his steps, but there was a problem to be dealt with at every step, for he could see nothing familiar. In that mult.i.tude of trees, planted so close together, each tree seemed alike. He put his hand to his mouth and uttered a long "coo-ee." The call seemed to be shut in, sounding in his ears very weak and quavering.

"Coo-ee!"--and again "coo-ee!" Ah, that was an answer; and with a glad shout he set off in the direction whence came an answer to his call, forced his way through the undergrowth, tripped and fell over a dead branch with a thud that made his head throb so that he was glad to sit back with closed eyes.

When he opened them again he heard a rustling of the leaves, and moved his lips to call out. "Compton!"

There was unmistakably the sound of some one jumping aside as if startled.

"Over here!" said Venning; and then he closed his eyes again with a feeling of languor. Compton, in the meanwhile growing impatient, walked a few steps in the direction his chum had taken. The rest of the party had moved on, thinking, no doubt, he was following, and he knew that neither he nor Venning could pick up the spoor if they lost touch. He peered through the scrub for some time without seeing any one, and then he heard a low cry--a strangled sort of cry, as if Venning were calling in a very feeble voice. Uns.h.i.+pping his Lee- Metford carbine from the loop, by which it hung at his side, he dashed forward, fully expecting to find his friend in the hands of man or beast.

But at the last stopping-place there was no sign of his friend; and, with head bent, he listened for some sound, his mouth firmly set, and his dark eyes glancing from under his well-marked, brows.

He could hear the beating of his heart, and the innumerable creeping sounds that seemed to have no origin. He was about to shout, when again he heard a thin cry, and, suppressing the shout, he began to advance cautiously from tree to tree, planting his steps carefully.

In the soft mould he saw now the footmarks left by Venning as he had hurried, the print of his heel at one spot, a little further on a broken branch, and next, some dislodged moss from a huge tree. He peered round this, examining the ground ahead, then stepped out into a little clearing, across which Venning had walked. He started as he looked down, then threw up his gun, with a quick glance round, for on the ground, side by side with the footprints, were the pugs of a lion or leopard.

Venning was in danger, then! With an involuntary action he pressed his hat down firmly on his head, then moved forward, swiftly and silently, to another tree beyond. Looking round this, he saw at once through the twining tendrils the form of an animal, moving slowly, with flattened ears and twitching tail.

This did not surprise him, for he was prepared by the spoor; but what surprised him was to see that the brute was advancing towards him--not retreating. For a moment he felt sick at the thought that he was too late, that his friend had been already attacked, and that the beast had left Venning for the new-comer.

The brute was unmistakably stalking some one. Its body was stretched out, the forearms reaching out in long stealthy strides, the round head sunk low, with a fixed snarl that bared the white teeth. A leopard it was in form, but without the black rosettes on a grey ground, the colour being of a uniform yellow along the sides, with black markings down the muscular shoulders, and a streak of white from the throat under the belly. The eyes were large, and of a greenish hue. They were fixed in a steadfast stare on some spot to the left. Compton glanced in that direction, and, to his joy, he saw Venning, alive, seated with his chin on his breast, and his back to a fallen stump. As Compton looked, the boy's eyes opened, and his head turned as if he had heard some noise.

Compton's distress left him. A feeling of great thankfulness swept over him when he saw that he was not too late, that his friend lived; and with firm nerves he stepped clear of the tree to shoot.

The movement caught the notice of the leopard. It had crouched down as Venning turned, but now it lifted its round head to view the new- comer. With a low growl it made a sudden leap forward, covering an incredible distance, which brought it nearer to Compton, and as it gathered itself together he fired, then sprang aside. There was a rush through the air, a thud, and a tearing noise. There, almost within reach of him, with the blood running over its face from a scalp-wound, and its fore-paws tearing the moss from a tree, was the leopard; and, swift as thought, Compton fired from his hip at the shoulder. The leopard rolled over, growling, then tried to drag itself by its powerful paws towards Compton, its mouth wide open. He fired again, into the gaping jaws, the muscles relaxed, the beast fell, and he ran towards Venning.

"Are you all right, old chap?"

Venning held on to his friend's arm, and as they stood, the leopard screamed.

"He is quite done, old fellow. Come and see."

Venning went forward quietly, as if still in a daze, and they looked down on the leopard, struggling in the death-throes. It raised its torn head, and again the scream rang out from its red jaws--a terrible cry, and out of the forest came the answer, shrill and fearsome. With a low growl the leopard fell forward, dead; but they could hear an animal advancing rapidly, with fierce grunts; though from what direction it was impossible to tell.

"It must be the mate," said Compton, with an anxious look at Venning. "How do you feel?"

"I'm all right now;" and he pa.s.sed his hand over his forehead. "I can help you this time. If it is the mate, it will go first to its dead."

"Then we'd better crouch down by that tree."

They knelt side by side a little way off, with their rifles ready; but, though the noise made by the advancing animal grew louder, they could see no movement whatever.

Then an extraordinary thing occurred. A bough above shook heavily, and a large flattened body shot down from one branch to another, tail, neck, and legs at the full stretch, alighting easily on the rounded branch. It paused for a moment, then flew right across from one tree to another, a distance of about thirty feet, when again it gathered itself together for another flying leap to the ground, alighting with singular ease within a few paces of the spot where the dead leopard was lying.

With outstretched neck and twitching nose, it stepped to its mate, sniffed, then threw its head up with bristling hair and emitted a terrible scream of rage, ending in a harsh cough.

As Compton pressed the trigger it bounded aside, as if it had seen him, and an instant later had reached the trunk of a tree.

"Where is it?"

"Went up that tree," said Venning, rising and stretching his neck.