The Blind Lion of the Congo Part 15
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The two stole out cautiously, and began making a slow advance over the open s.p.a.ce, hiding behind the ant hills and among the tall gra.s.s. Only the waving tops of the latter betrayed their presence, but just as the boys were expecting to hear a shot, Mvita touched Burt on the arm. One of his men had approached silently, and his face portended big tidings.
"What is it--elephant?" asked Burt. Mvita grinned and shook his head, then murmured one word.
"_Simba!_"
"Lion!" echoed Critch, who knew the native term. "Come on, Burt!"
Without hesitation the two boys turned away and followed the native guide. The latter led them to the right for some distance, and as no sign of lion showed up Burt became impatient.
"Where--" he began, when the native stopped, clicked his tongue, and pointed with his spear. Ahead of them the boys caught sight of a small lioness trotting away from a clump of thick bushes. Burt, grabbing for his rifle, ran forward eagerly. Critch's bearer was a Bantu, who handed over the heavy gun but refused absolutely to advance. The two boys ran forward in order to cut off the trotting lioness from a stretch of rushes for which she was making.
They were barely fifty yards from the clump of bushes when they both stopped short at a shrill yell from Mvita, who had followed them closely, at the same instant Burt saw something appear at the edge of the bushes. Then came a low, muttering growl, and a huge black-maned lion appeared, his red mouth open, gazing steadily at the hunters. Burt pulled up his rifle and fired quickly. The growl ended in a snarl, and the lion rolled over.
"Hurray!" shouted Burt, "I landed him--"
"Look out!" yelled Critch, and the explosion of his rifle almost deafened his chum. As Burt had fired, three more lionesses had appeared among the bushes, following the first! Two disappeared, but Critch's shot stopped the last one, not killing her. He put another bullet into her shoulder and she lay still. While he ran forward to make sure of his prize, Burt, followed by Mvita, turned toward the lion. The great beast lay perfectly still. Three of the Bantus had run up, and were standing within a few yards of him.
They were gathered in a group near his tail, admiring and yet afraid to touch him. Burt remembered his uncle's warnings about the remarkable tenacity of life often shown by lions, and stopped when fifty feet away.
The lion was still breathing, but lay motionless. Concluding that if he paid no attention to the chattering natives he would remain quiet for a finis.h.i.+ng shot, Burt and Mvita ran onward, the chief displaying no fear whatever, unlike the Bantus.
They approached from his rear, and a.s.suming that he was unable to rise, Burt stepped around for a good shot at the eye, which would not harm the pelt. The instant he came into view of the wounded beast, however, the latter revived.
With one terrific roar he sprang to his feet as if uninjured. His green eyes blazed with fury, and his lips were drawn back until his long, yellow teeth were exposed in a snarl that struck Burt cold, for the boy was barely a dozen feet away. The men had fled instantly, only Mvita remaining beside Burt. The latter, taken by surprise, gave a step backward, lifting his rifle.
Just as the beast was in the act of springing, Burt fired. The heavy bullet missed the eye and glanced off the sharply backward-sloping head of the brute, but its terrific impact was sufficient to stop the animal for the instant. Burt heard a yell from Critch, and was tempted to turn and run. The lion was up immediately, however, and again Burt stepped back and pulled the trigger.
This time, however, his foot caught in the gra.s.s. The bullet went wild, and the terrified boy gave himself up for lost. A tremendous thud and crash at his side told him that the lion had sprung; then a quick flash of red caught his eye as he rolled over and gained his feet.
The flash of red came from the robe of Mvita, whose faith in the white hunters had given way at the last moment. Seeming to realize all at once the danger of his situation, he turned and ran just as Burt fell, with a shrill scream. Beyond doubt this movement had saved Burt's life, for the brilliant red robe caught the eye of the lion, who at once gave chase to the yelling chief.
Burt, pale and excited, gained his feet just as the lion was catching up with Mvita. Lifting his rifle, he fired. To his dismay the bullet missed completely, throwing up the dust beyond Mvita. In a desperate effort to save the man before it was too late, Burt pumped at the magazine. At the same instant Mvita made a quick swerve. The lion also turned, coming broadside on to Burt. Just as Mvita was about to be brought down, the boy fired. The lion dropped in the middle of his spring, his back broken. A shot from Critch's rifle struck him as he lay, and Burt finally put a bullet through the lion's brain.
Relieved and rather weak-kneed at the imminent danger, Burt looked around for his chum. He was astonished to see Critch, who had hastily returned, give a gasp, then burst into a roar of laughter. Whirling about, Burt stared over the body of the lion and then went into a spasm of mirth.
The sight that met his eyes turned what was nearly a tragedy into instant comedy. There was Mvita, a dozen yards from the lion, earnestly bent upon scrambling up a thorn-tree in the shortest possible time! He never cast a glance below, as the roars of laughter went up from the boys and even from the natives, but only climbed the faster. He was nearing the top of the spiny tree; on every limb and thorn hung remnants of his gorgeous crimson robe, and by the time he reached the top he was fully as well clad as his humblest subject below.
In vain did the boys yell at him to come down. Mvita was taking no chances of a mistake again, and not until he had reached the very top branch that would bear his weight did the terrified chieftain glance down. Even the sight of his laughing subjects and the dead lion hardly rea.s.sured him, but once he was certain of his safety he took a speedy and certain method of restoring his lost dignity. Descending as quickly as he had gone up, he brought a long thorn-branch with him, and applied this to his subjects and the Bantus indiscriminately until their laughter was changed to howls for mercy. Only at the intercession of the gasping boys did the angry chief cease.
The Bantus speedily gathered, and played like children about the dead bodies of the two beasts, which had been placed side by side. They proved themselves surprisingly good mimics, one taking the part of the lion and jumping with a growl at the others. Another took Burt's part, snapping his fingers as he stepped backward and finally fell; while a third played Mvita, running to the thorn tree with the lion in hot pursuit. At this instant an angry voice stopped the proceedings, and the boys looked around in alarm to see Mr. Wallace running toward them.
"Here, what is all this?" he shouted, waving his rifle. Before the boys could answer he caught sight of the two carca.s.ses, and stopped short.
"So you've been disobeying orders again!"
"Not quite that, uncle," returned Burt quickly. He then explained why they had left, together with all that had happened. As Mr. Wallace glanced at the almost naked chief, and then at the decorated thorn tree, his face relaxed and Burt knew there was no more to fear.
"You spoiled a fine shot for me," was all Mr. Wallace said. "I guess you've had lesson enough. Get the boys busy on the skins, John."
"How about the elephants?" spoke up Critch.
"They're not far off, unless your shooting frightened them. We'll leave the Bantus to skin these beasts, while we go on with Mvita's men."
CHAPTER XII
MONTENAY RETURNS
"We ought to provide Mvita with a new robe," suggested Burt with a grin.
"He saved my life all right back there, whether he meant to or not."
"A few yards of cloth will fix him," returned his uncle, as they started off with the chief and his men. "You'd better carry your big guns now yourselves. No telling what will happen."
One of the villagers led them forward at a brisk pace, straight onward for about a mile. They were now almost in the jungle, the open s.p.a.ces and higher ground seeming to end abruptly with a small stream which they pa.s.sed. Mvita's men were spread out in a wide circle, for the elephant herd had finally been located, and once the beaters got around them the animals would scent them and come up-wind toward the hunters.
Presently they came upon the elephant spoor, or trail--a wide swath ripped through the heavy undergrowth by the pa.s.sage of the big animals.
To one side of this Mr. Wallace and the boys took their stand, hiding amid the bushes.
"Let them pa.s.s us," cautioned the explorer, "and when you have a clear shoulder-shot, make it fatal the first time. You take the first, Critch--"
He was cut short by a yell that arose ahead. This was followed by a loud trumpeting as the frightened animals crashed away from the beaters. Burt paled as he thought of what might happen should the elephants burst upon them through the jungle instead of following their own trail, but he had little time for reflection. Even as the thought came to him the first elephant appeared with a shrill trumpet of rage, his trunk flung high and his wide ears flapping forward. Behind him came more of the dim, gigantic shapes, and the boys pulled up their guns.
Not ten feet from them, the first elephant thundered past, the others crowding close upon him. Critch waited until he was sure of his shot, and then sent the first beast reeling into the opposite side of the trail with the force of his bullet. Almost instantly Burt fired at the second elephant, striking him just behind the shoulder. The others stopped for a second, giving Mr. Wallace a chance for a fine shot, then smashed into the jungle and were gone.
"Hurray!" yelled Critch, leaping to his feet. "Mine's down!"
"So's mine," shouted Burt eagerly, gazing at the motionless form of the elephant, who had staggered and sunk into the gra.s.s at once.
"Come on," cried his uncle as the first of the natives appeared, "I hit mine badly, and he can't be far away."
Mvita came up on the run as they started, and all broke into the jungle on the trail of the wounded elephant, John carrying the spare guns. Only a hundred yards away they came upon their quarry. The elephant, mortally wounded, was standing beneath a large tree, half-hidden among the foliage. They could see him swaying from side to side, and just as Mr.
Wallace was circling around for a finis.h.i.+ng shot the huge bulk crashed down and lay still.
"Ain't it pretty near time to eat?" inquired Critch, after they had inspected the body.
"Just about," answered Mr. Wallace. "Where will we make camp, John?"
"By de river, sar," was the reply, and John was busied at once with orders to Mvita and the natives, who had brought along a chop-box. The three elephants killed were all bulls, that of Mr. Wallace having only one tusk. While the ivory was being cut out and the bodies being dissected by the natives, who would make a grand feast that night, the three whites returned to the small stream which had been crossed half an hour before.
John had found a small spring of clear, sweet water near some high ground on the west bank. Opposite, there was a long stretch of marshy, low ground that gave upon the jungle proper. On their camping side, however, this fever-threatening swamp was entirely absent.
Before an hour had pa.s.sed the three were sitting around their folding canvas table, doing full honor to the forest delicacies furnished by John and his a.s.sistants. More of the villagers trooped up to share in the elephant meat, until it seemed to the boys that the entire village was present. Suddenly Burt, who was sitting facing the stream, gave a startled exclamation and pointed to the low ground opposite.
"What's that, Uncle George?"
Turning in their seats, the others saw the top of the high marsh-gra.s.s waving as if some creature were forcing its way along. John, who had over-heard the question, brought up the rifles at once but Mr. Wallace waved him back and took out his gla.s.ses.
"I don't know, Burt. Doesn't show up yet. It'd hardly be any animal, for we are up-wind and he would scent us. It might be a crocodile, although in that case he would not make so much commotion. What do you think, John?"
The Blind Lion of the Congo Part 15
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The Blind Lion of the Congo Part 15 summary
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