Tom Burnaby Part 6

"This is the Ruezi," said the padre. "The expedition has gone up this river. I am glad, my dear boy, that in G.o.d's providence I have been able to bring you safely to this point, and I don't forget how much we all owe to your skill and presence of mind. Now I must land you here.

I can take you in until the water is shallow enough for you to wade ash.o.r.e. You will find a village half a mile or so inland, and your future course must depend on what information you there obtain. I am not very clear about the nature of the country, but the expedition will have left very distinct traces. I need not say I wish you every success, and on your return I shall hope to see more of you."

"Many thanks for all your kindness, Father!" said Tom, shaking hands warmly. "I'll look you up, never fear."

"Take my field-gla.s.s; you may find it useful," said the padre. "I have already packed up some tea and a few other things for you, and Mbutu has a couple of rugs; you will find nights in the open rather cold.

Good-bye, good-bye!"

The boy slipped overboard with the baggage, Tom following immediately.

They reached the sh.o.r.e after some trouble with the rushes, and Tom there waved a final farewell to the missionary, whom the launch was already bearing away northwards towards the Sese Islands.

At the same moment, out of a clump of elephant-gra.s.s some three hundred yards up the river, came a long vermilion canoe manned by eight negroes.

In the stern sat a European in a green coat. Catching sight of the two figures by the riverside he sprang up, appeared to hesitate, then gave a sudden order. The canoe swung round, and barely a minute after it had emerged from the rushes it disappeared again, rapidly moving under the strokes of eight red paddles.

Not, however, before Mbutu's sharp eyes had flashed a glance at it. He uttered a low cry, and turned to Tom.

"Dago man, sah!"

"Where?" said Tom, wheeling landwards with a start.

"Ober dar, sah. Long canoe, dago man in green coat. Sah knock him down."

"Nonsense! You can't see clearly all that way. It must have been someone else."

"Dago, sure nuff," returned the boy positively. "Mbutu know eyes, nose, coat, kiboko, all berrah much."

"Ho, ho! So the dago is here, is he? Now I wonder what he is after.

He couldn't have known we were coming, that's certain. He must have started before us--perhaps on the track of the expedition. Well, Mbutu, we must find out what his game is. Did he see you, d'you think?"

"See Mbutu? Yes. Sah too. Dago see all much. Sah knock him down!"

"Well, I hope I shall not have to knock him down again. We must keep our eyes open, Mbutu; remember, my uncle's life in all probability depends on our running no risks."

"All right, sah! Big sah, little sah, all same for one."

CHAPTER IV

A Stern Chase

An African Village--A Bargain--A False Scent--Up the Ruezi--A Night Vigil--Followed--The Bend in the River--A Man Wounded--No Thoroughfare

The two youths found themselves on a narrow spit of sand projecting some hundred yards into the river-mouth. On the land side Tom saw nothing but a dense wall of elephant-gra.s.s and papyrus standing nearly twice as high as himself, into which the river disappeared. On the other side was the blue expanse of the Nyanza, shading into the lighter blue of the cloudless sky. In the distance he could see the faint coast-line of the Sese Islands, and, between himself and them, the smoke of the departing launch stretching across the sky like a long smudge on a clean page.

For the first time a shadow of misgiving crossed his mind, but with a silent "This will never do" he pulled himself together, and set himself resolutely to face the task he had undertaken.

He looked meditatively for a few moments at Mbutu.

"Now, Mbutu," he said, "we are left to our own devices. I must trust to you to help me through; I suppose you can make yourself understood in any of these parts, eh? Well now, you stick by me and do your best, and you and I'll be great friends. Now for this village."

Mbutu shouldered the baggage, and they set off towards the apparently impenetrable wall. They were soon ankle-deep in swamp, but, rounding a point and wading a little creek, they came upon a narrow path, evidently worn away by many feet tramping down in single file to the river-side.

Striking up this path they were met in another ten minutes by signs of human habitation. There were fields of sweet-potatoes, Indian-corn, and millet, traversing which they came plump upon an irregular circle of gra.s.s huts, half-hidden by the surrounding bush.

Tom called a halt. It would be well, he thought, to impress the villagers with an idea of his importance, so he despatched Mbutu in advance, as a herald, to announce his arrival to the chief of the village. Pa.s.sing the line of gra.s.s huts, and picking his way amid fowls and goats and a rather unsavoury litter, Tom found himself in a s.p.a.cious enclosure, which was already filling with a crowd of jabbering natives.

The centre of this open s.p.a.ce was occupied by a hut of larger dimensions than the rest. It was a round structure, consisting of boughs of trees held together by gra.s.s and mud, and surmounted by a conical roof, roughly thatched. The doorway was low, and not more than eighteen inches wide; Tom wondered whether the chief would come out, and if not, how he himself was to get in. Mbutu, he saw, was talking rapidly and with much gesticulation to a corpulent negro at the door of the hut, while a group of natives stood intently watching at a respectful distance.

As Tom approached, Mbutu came towards him grinning.

"Him say him katikiro," he said. "Him lie; him katikiro not much. Big chief hab katikiro, little chief no hab."

"What on earth is katikiro?" asked Tom.

Mbutu looked puzzled and scratched his head. After pondering a while, and searching for words to make the matter clear to his master's intelligence, he said:

"Katikiro palaver man. Chief want eat--call katikiro. Chief want wife--call katikiro. Want gib bad man kiboko--call katikiro all same."

"Sort of head cook and bottle-washer, lord high executioner and prime minister all in one, eh? Well, tell the right honourable katikiro I want to see the chief."

"Him say chief asleep."

"Then he must wake him up."

Mbutu spoke to the negro, who shook his head, looked very serious, and, pointing to the hut behind, answered quickly and earnestly.

"Him say chief chop off head," grinned Mbutu. "Chief berrah big, oh!"

"He must chance that!" replied Tom. "Tell him that if he and his master keep me dawdling here any longer, I shall report both of them to the government at Entebbe, and then they'll be sorry."

If Tom had understood Mbutu's interpretation of his speech he would have heard him inform the native that his master's big brother, the Great White King, would take away the chief's wives and goats, charms and beads, and leave him not so much as an anklet to call his own. He would pull his teeth, shave his head, and make him wash himself in hot water twice a day. Mbutu was proceeding to amplify these threats with great eloquence when Tom, losing patience, cried: "If he doesn't hurry up, I shall go in and wake the chief myself," and he made a movement towards the hut. Instantly the man, with a terrified look, took a long breath, turned sideways, and squeezed his rotundity through the narrow aperture.

His entrance was followed by a stream of very hot language, and in a moment the katikiro reappeared, looking somewhat crestfallen. He was followed immediately by the chief, a well-made negro, scowling and rubbing his eyes. He presented a comical appearance in his torn calico s.h.i.+rt and head-dress consisting of a piece of lion's skin ingeniously ornamented with stork's feathers. Tom went up to him and held out his hand frankly, a courtesy he regretted at once, for on emerging from the chief's grip he found his hand covered with dirty grease. Still smiling, however, he made as impressive an oration as he could, and then asked through Mbutu if the chief could tell him anything about the expedition. Mbutu added on his own account that he had better tell no lies, for his master was a near relative of the Great White King, and moreover had been given by a medicine man the power to see through the back of any black man's head. He further promised on Tom's behalf that the truth would be repaid with a good many beads, while falsehood would entail unspeakable consequences.

Thus encouraged, the chief spat on the ground and began. He stated that the expedition had arrived at the mouth of the Ruezi two days before.

The river being impracticable for launches, the men had landed at a creek a mile or two away, and had there begun their overland march.

They were bound for Mpororo, a place the chief knew only by hearsay, as he himself had never ventured farther than the southern end of Lake Mazingo. Beyond that, he understood, were the tents of the Wa-daki, who lived night and day with kiboko; and as he named the dreaded Germans, his eyes flashed and his nostrils dilated.

"I don't understand this," said Tom. "The Ruezi looks a big enough river. Why couldn't the launches sail up?"

The chief explained that the bed was here and there silted with mud, and everywhere more or less overgrown with reeds.

"Then I suppose we shall have to tramp after them. Couldn't we reach this Lake Mazingo by the river?"

The chief was sorry to say that they would have to walk through the forest.

"Isn't your river deep enough for a canoe, then?"

Oh yes! A light canoe could paddle up to Lake Mazingo, but beyond that were the tents of the Wa-daki, who lived night and day--

"Yes, yes," interrupted Tom. "Why couldn't the old guy tell us that before! Tell him I'll hire a canoe with its crew, and that we'll start at once."