Dick Sands, the Boy Captain Part 43

The honey was acceptable, but it did not do much to alleviate the cravings of hunger.

Next day it happened that they had just stopped for their accustomed rest, when they observed that an enormous swarm of gra.s.shoppers had settled at the mouth of a creek close by. Two or three deep they covered the soil, myriads and myriads of them adhering to every shrub.

"The natives eat those gra.s.shoppers," said Benedict, "and like them too."

The remark produced an instant effect; all hands were busied in collecting them, and a large supply was quickly gathered: the canoe might have been filled ten times over.

Grilled over a slow fire, they were found to be very palatable eating, and, spite of his qualms of conscience, Benedict himself made a hearty meal.

But although the gnawings of absolute hunger were thus a.s.suaged, all the travellers began to long most anxiously for the voyage to come to an end. The mode of transit indeed might be less exhausting to the bodily powers than a land march would have been, but the excessive heat by day, the damp mists at night, and the incessant attacks of mosquitoes, all combined to render the pa.s.sage extremely trying. There was no telling how long it would last, and d.i.c.k was equally uncertain whether it might end in a few days, or be protracted for a month. The direction which the stream was taking was itself a subject of perplexity.

A fresh surprise was now in store.

As Jack, a few mornings afterwards, was standing at the bow peering through an aperture in the gra.s.s canopy above him, he suddenly turned round and cried,-

"The sea! the sea!"

d.i.c.k started forwards, and looked eagerly in the same direction.

A large expanse of water was visible in the horizon, but after having surveyed it for a moment or two, he said,-

"No, Jack, it is not the sea, it is a great river; it is running west, and I suppose this river runs into it. Perhaps it is the Zaire."

"Let us hope it is," said Mrs. Weldon earnestly.

Most cordially did d.i.c.k Sands re-echo her words, being well aware that at the mouth of that river were Portuguese villages, where a refuge might a.s.suredly be found.

For several succeeding days the canoe, still concealed by its covering, floated on the silvery surface of this new-found stream. On either side the banks became less arid, and there seemed everything to encourage the few survivors of the "Pilgrim" to believe that they would soon see the last of the perils and toils of their journey.

They were too sanguine. Towards three o'clock on the morning of the 18th, d.i.c.k, who was at his usual post at the bow, fancied he heard a dull rumbling towards the west. Mrs. Weldon, Jack, and Benedict were all asleep. Calling Hercules to him, he asked him whether he could not hear a strange noise. The night was perfectly calm, and not a breath of air was stirring. The negro listened attentively, and suddenly, his eyes sparkling with delight, exclaimed,-

"Yes, captain, I hear the sea!"

d.i.c.k shook his head and answered,-

"It is not the sea, Hercules."

"Not the sea!" cried the negro, "then what can it be?"

"We must wait till daybreak," replied d.i.c.k, "and meanwhile we shall have to keep a sharp look-out."

Hercules returned to his place, but only to continue listening with ever-increasing curiosity. The rumbling perceptibly increased till it became a continued roar.

With scarcely any intervening twilight night pa.s.sed into day. Just in front, scarcely more than half a mile ahead, a great mist was hanging over the river; it was not an ordinary fog, and when the sun rose, the light of the dawn caused a brilliant rainbow to arch itself from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e.

In a voice so loud that it awoke Mrs. Weldon, d.i.c.k gave his order to Hercules to steer for the bank:-

"Quick, quick, Hercules! ash.o.r.e! ash.o.r.e! there are cataracts close ahead!"

And so it was. Within little more than a quarter of a mile the bed of the river sank abruptly some hundred feet, and the foaming waters rushed down in a magnificent fall with irresistible velocity. A few minutes more and the canoe must have been swallowed in the deep abyss.

CHAPTER XIX.

AN ATTACK.

The canoe inclined to the west readily enough; the fall in the river-bed was so sudden that the current remained quite unaffected by the cataract at a distance of three hundred yards.

On the bank were woods so dense that sunlight could not penetrate the shade. d.i.c.k was conscious of a sad misgiving when he looked at the character of the territory through which they must necessarily pa.s.s. It did not seem practicable by any means to convey the canoe below the falls.

As they neared the sh.o.r.e, Dingo became intensely agitated. At first d.i.c.k suspected that a wild beast or a native might be lurking in the papyrus, but it soon became obvious that the dog was excited by grief rather than by rage.

"Dingo is crying," said Jack; "poor Dingo!" and the child laid his arms over the creature's neck.

The dog, however, was too impatient to be caressed; bounding away, he sprang into the water, swam across the twenty feet that intervened between the sh.o.r.e, and disappeared in the gra.s.s.

In a few moments the boat had glided on to a carpet of confervas and other aquatic plants, starting a few kingfishers and some snow-white herons. Hercules moored it to the stump of a tree, and the travellers went ash.o.r.e.

There was no pathway through the forest, only the

[Ill.u.s.tration: Upon the smooth wood were two great letters in dingy red.]

trampled moss showed that the place had been recently visited either by animals or men.

d.i.c.k took his gun and Hercules his hatchet, and they set out to search for Dingo. They had not far to go before they saw him with his nose close to the ground, manifestly following a scent; the animal raised his head for a moment, as if beckoning them to follow, and kept on till he reached an old sycamore-stump. Having called out to the rest of the party to join them, d.i.c.k made his way farther into the wood till he got up to Dingo, who was whining piteously at the entrance of a dilapidated hut.

The rest were not long in following, and they all entered the hut together. The floor was strewn with bones whitened by exposure.

"Some one has died here," said Mrs. Weldon.

"Perhaps," added d.i.c.k, as if struck by a sudden thought, "it was Dingo's old master. Look at him! he is pointing with his paw."

The portion of the sycamore-trunk which formed the farther side of the hut had been stripped of its bark, and upon the smooth wood were two great letters in dingy red almost effaced by time, but yet plain enough to be distinguished.

"S. V.," cried d.i.c.k, as he looked where the dog's paw rested; "the same initials that Dingo has upon his collar. There can be no mistake. S. V."

A small copper box, green with verdigris, caught his eye, and he picked it up. It was open, but contained a sc.r.a.p of discoloured paper. The writing upon this consisted of a few sentences, of which only detached words could be made out, but they revealed the sad truth only too plainly.

"Robbed by Negoro-murdered-Dingo-help-Negoro guide-l20 miles from coast-December 3rd, l871-write no more.

"S. VERNON."

Here was the clue to a melancholy story. Samuel Vernon, under the guidance of Negoro, and taking with him his dog Dingo, had set out on an exploration of a district of Central Africa; he had taken a considerable quant.i.ty of money to procure the necessary supplies on the way, and this had excited the cupidity of his guide, who seized the opportunity, whilst they were encamping on the banks of the Congo, to a.s.sa.s.sinate his employer, and get possession of his property. Negoro, however, had not escaped; he had fallen into the hands of the Portuguese, by whom he was recognized as an agent of the slave-dealer Alvez, and condemned to spend the rest of his days in prison. He contrived after a while to make his escape, and, as has been already mentioned, found his way to New Zealand, whence he had returned by securing an engagement on board the "Pilgrim." Between the time when he was attacked by Negoro and the moment of his death, Vernon had managed to write the few brief lines of which the fragments still survived, and to deposit the doc.u.ment in the box from which the money had been stolen, and by a last effort had traced out his initials in blood upon the naked wood which formed the wall of the hut. For many days Dingo watched beside his master, and throughout that time his eyes were resting so perpetually upon the two crimson letters in front of him, that mere instinct seemed to fasten them indelibly on his memory. Quitting his watch one day, perhaps to pacify his hunger, the dog wandered to the coast, where he was picked up by the captain of the "Waldeck," afterwards to be transferred to the very s.h.i.+p on which his owner's murderer had been engaged as cook.

All throughout this time poor Vernon's bones had been bleaching in the African forest, and the first resolution of d.i.c.k and Mrs. Weldon was to give the residue of his remains some semblance of a decent burial. They were just proceeding to their task when Dingo gave a furious growl, and dashed out of the hut; another moment, and a terrible shriek made it evident that he was in conflict with some dread antagonist.

Hercules was quickly in pursuit, and the whole party followed in time to witness the giant hurl himself upon a man with whom already Dingo was in mortal combat.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The dog was griping the man by the throat]

The dog was griping the man by the throat, the man was lifting his cutla.s.s high above the head of the dog.