CHAPTER XX THE RATS ESCAPE

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Edward Harden, rifle in hand, led the way, followed by Crouch and the four Fans. As they entered the stockade, expecting to be attacked from all sides in the darkness, they opened out in accordance with a pre-arranged plan. Crouch turned to the left and Edward to the right; and then, taking post on the banquette, they stood ready to fire.

For a few seconds there was absolute silence. The situation was so unlooked for that they could not, at first, realize what had happened. Then Crouch's voice was lifted in the night.

"By Christopher, the rats are gone!"

Max, guided by the sound of these words, found the sea-captain in the darkness, and confirmed his suspicions. He said that he had been several minutes within the stockade, and had neither seen nor heard a living soul.

It seemed as if the valley of the Hidden River would maintain its reputation to the last. There was no end to mystery. Time and again were they confronted with facts that they were wholly unable to explain.

It was M'WanÉ who found a lantern in the hut which had formerly been occupied by de Costa; and with the help of this they searched the huts, one after the other, in the hope of being able to discover CÆsar's line of retreat.

It was not possible that the Portuguese and his Arab attendants had left the stockade by way of the gate. By day, the garrison had been under the constant observation of their sentinel on the hills. Every night, as soon as it was sufficiently dark to permit them to approach, the stockade had been surrounded. They found nothing suspicious in any one of the huts, until they came to CÆsar's, before which the yellow flag still unfurled itself upon the wind. Here they discovered that the ruby chest had gone.

Now, it would require four men, at least, to carry this heavy chest to the water's edge, and even then, the task could not have been accomplished without noise. It was impossible to believe that the garrison had passed through the little investing force by dead of night. And yet, as far as they could see, there was no other means of escape. CÆsar and his slave-drivers had vanished as suddenly and unaccountably as if they had been spirited away.

They separated and searched the stockade from end to end. It was M'WanÉ who gained the first clue, who came running breathlessly to Crouch.

"Master," he cried, "the wood-stack has been moved."

Within the stockade they had noticed on their arrival a great quantity of firewood, which had been cut in the adjacent forest. On approaching this, Crouch saw at once that the wood-stack had been pulled down as if in haste. Calling out to Edward to bring the lantern, he awaited further developments. No sooner had Harden arrived than the mystery was solved.

Leading downward into the ground was a broad flight of steps. A kind of tunnel had been formed under the sand, about four feet wide and six feet high, revetted by wooden beams. So all the time CÆsar had been at liberty to escape, whenever he felt that he was sufficiently recovered of his wound to undertake the journey.

When CÆsar had constructed his stockade in the heart of the wilderness, he had been prepared for all eventualities and had neglected nothing. He had unlimited labour at his disposal. Knowing the nature of his business, and the hatred with which he was likely to be regarded by the neighbouring tribes, he had thought it likely that, at some future date, he might be called upon to undergo a siege. That siege might last for several months, by which time his provisions would be exhausted and he obliged to retreat. As far as they were able to discover, the subterranean passage had been made during the absence of de Costa on a two-months' journey to the Coast, in order to procure fresh supplies of dynamite. From the fact that the half-caste knew nothing whatsoever of the passage, it seems likely that the Portuguese had all along intended to desert his companion at the eleventh hour.

Without a word, Edward Harden descended the steps, holding the lantern on high to guide his friends who followed. The passage lay in a bee-line throughout the whole of its length. It was about three hundred yards long, and whilst it ran through the sandy sub-soil in the crater of Makanda, both its walls and roof consisted of solid logs. For the last hundred yards it pierced the living rock, and at last came forth in the impenetrable darkness of the forest.

By the aid of the lantern they were able to discover a path which led to the left, and after a few minutes' walking, this brought them to the river bank. Here, in the soft mud, was the indentation of the bows of a canoe. Moreover, the place was so screened by trees and tall reeds that no one, passing either up or down the river, would suspect for a moment that here was a mooring-place. It was here that the "phantom canoe" had lain, to be brought upstream by two or three of the Arabs from the stockade on the night of the attack.

No sooner did Crouch observe this evidence of the means CÆsar had taken to escape, than he shook his fist in the air.

"He's gone down-stream," he cried. "But, I'll follow him, if he leads me a ten-years' journey through the wilderness. I'll overtake that man, and I'll kill him. I swear it. I swear that I'll never set eyes upon the shores of England again, until I know that he is dead."

And that was the oath of Captain Crouch, which--when we have got to the end of the story--will prove to us that oaths are very futile after all. The strength of man is limited; in face of the wonders of the universe, his knowledge is indeed small. He may be strong and brave and unswerving of his purpose; but, after all, where men teem in cities, no less than in the heart of the illimitable and mighty forest, there is a greater Power than anything that is human--the all-pervading Spirit of the Universe, before whom the foolish vows of men are of infinitesimal account.

Crouch had flown too often in the face of Providence not to be aware of that; but, just then, he was well-nigh mad with wrath and restless with excitement. Snatching the lantern from Edward's hand he raced along the passage, until they found themselves again within the stockade.

Still, the captain never paused. He passed through the gate, and thence ascended the hills. They found the slave-camp absolutely silent. On every hand the unhappy negroes lay stretched upon the ground, and there in the middle of them was de Costa, nature striving to maintain the spark of life within that fever-stricken body, by means of healthful slumber. On the eastern horizon, beyond the unknown hills which they had seen from Solitude Peak, the dawn was rising in a flood.

With scant ceremony Crouch awakened first de Costa, then every one of the slaves. Through the medium of the half-caste he spoke to the natives as follows--

"We found you slaves, we have made you freemen. Are you grateful for what we have done?"

A murmur arose from the crowd. They said that they were mindful of what they owed to the white wizard and his brave companions.

"Then," said Crouch, "you can help us. We are going down-river. We must start at once. We must take all our baggage, our stores and ammunition. There are six canoes at the kraal, and these will be sufficient. But we will need porters to make the journey through the jungle to the Kasai. If you come with us, to carry our loads and canoes, we will pay you in cowrie shells and beads, brass rods and cloth."

To a man they volunteered, and not five minutes later a caravan of fifty carriers, protected by seven rifles, descended to the lake before Makanda.

In less than an hour the canoes were loaded, and then the expedition shot down the stream, the canoes following one behind the other in single file. Crouch led the way, his quick eye sweeping either bank in search of the place where CÆsar had embarked. Max, in the last canoe brought up the rear.

As the canoes gained the point where the sandy plain around the settlement gave place to the density of the jungle, all turned and looked back upon Makanda. To the slaves, many of whom had worked for two years under the whip, without hope of ultimate salvation, it was as if they looked their last upon their prison doors. As for the Englishmen, they remembered that grey, steaming morning when they had first come within sight of the stockade, when CÆsar had fired at them from the water.

All that had happened in the weeks that followed was like some strange, swift-moving dream.

It was midday when they reached their old camp at Hippo Pool, and Harden and Crouch disembarked, to see if they could find traces of CÆsar's escape on the line of their former portage.

They met with instant success. Some one had passed within the course of the last few hours.

In consequence, the loads were disembarked. Three canoes were sunk, and the remaining three lifted high and dry upon the bank. It was whilst this work was in progress that Crouch, to his infinite delight, discovered his case of glass eyes, which he had left in camp on the morning of their adventure at Leopard Marsh.

They were obliged to halt for a few hours for food. They had brought with them a week's rations for their men: plantain flour, soaked manioc and ears of corn. It was two o'clock when the caravan began to move through the jungle towards the Kasai. They eventually reached one of their old camps by Observation Pool. Their progress was necessarily slow. The slaves were in no fit condition to do a forced march through the jungle; and that night it was decided that Edward and Max and the Fans should push on ahead, in an endeavour to overtake the fugitives, and failing that to bring back the Loango boys to help. Crouch was to follow with the caravan with what dispatch he could.

In two days, the advanced party reached the place where the creek turned to the south. CÆsar's tracks still followed the old route direct to Date Palm Island.

On the fifth day of their journey from Hippo Pool, they came upon a place where CÆsar had turned to the north. Edward was an experienced tracker, but it did not require the eye of an expert to see that human beings had turned from the portage and followed an elephant track to the Kasai. For a moment, Harden was undecided how to act. If he continued on his way to Date Palm Island, some days might be wasted before he again picked up the trail. In the end he decided to send Max and the three Fans to the north, and go himself with M'WanÉ to the Island. There he would load up the canoe, send half the boys down-stream on the look-out for Max, and bring the others back to the portage to assist the slaves.

The following morning he shook hands with his nephew, and continued on the old route with which he was now familiar. He had not gone far, however, before he noticed bloodstains on the leaves of the undergrowth; and presently, to his utmost surprise, he came across one of the Loango boys wounded by a bullet in the leg, and crawling painfully on hands and knees towards the river.

This boy said that he had been hunting in the jungle--for they were short of food on the Island--when he had come across a caravan consisting of six Arabs and a white man. They were carrying a canoe half-filled with supplies, and a great box which appeared to be excessively heavy. The white man who led the way, seemed to be very weak, for he staggered as he walked. Indeed, it is impossible to imagine the hardships that the tall Portuguese underwent upon that last and fateful journey. So anxious was he to save his rubies, to gain the sea-coast in safety, that he had not brought with him sufficient supplies. In consequence, he and his men were starving and, as we shall see, they had an even more deadly foe to reckon with.

M'WanÉ, picking up the wounded boy in his arms, carried him like a baby throughout the rest of the journey to Date Palm Island. There the man's wound was attended to, and he was placed in a canoe which was ready loaded two hours after Edward had reached the river.

Once more Harden set forth upon his old track, leaving instructions that the canoe was to drop down-stream on the afternoon of the following day. The Loango boys from the Island, though they had complained of being short of food, were in fine condition; and the party came up with Crouch at the end of the second day. Thence they made better headway and, following CÆsar's trail, arrived eventually at the river, where they found not only Max and the Fans, but the party from the Island.

And now followed a race down the river after the slave-drivers and their chest of rubies. The three canoes which had been carried from the Hidden River, were embarked on the Kasai. The slaves who had acted as porters on the journey were given the option of finding their own way back to their villages or going down to the Congo in the canoes. There was never the slightest doubt that the majority would choose the former course. Half their number had come from the Pambala village on the slopes of Solitude Peak, and a score from other villages farther to the south-west. In all there were only five who desired to journey to the Congo, and these were men whom CÆsar had captured in the land of the Bakutu.

The current of the river was so swift that the four canoes shot down-stream at a great velocity with little help from the paddles. On the upper reaches of the great river, rapids and waterfalls were frequent, and at such times it was necessary to carry the canoe to unbroken water. At each portage they found traces of CÆsar and his Arabs. Once the camp-fire of the Portuguese was still alight, and soon after that, on rounding a point, they came in sight of a canoe.

They thought at first that they had overtaken CÆsar, but they were doomed to be disappointed. With the aid of their fieldglasses they ascertained that the canoe was coming towards them, working slowly up-stream against the force of the current.

They were still more surprised when they recognised, seated in the stern of this canoe, the white solar topee and the black coat of a European. A few minutes later Crouch was within hail.

"Who are you?" he asked, with both hands to his mouth.

And the answer came back in the accent of Aberdeen: "James Mayhew, of the Scottish Missionary Society."

That, indeed, was so. This man alone, attended only by a few native servants, was forcing his way in the absolute Unknown, in order to bring the enlightenment of Christian knowledge into the depths of an endless forest, inhabited by cannibals and dwarfs. They had time only to congratulate the missionary upon his courage, and to wish him every success. Crouch gave Mr. Mayhew directions as to how to reach the Hidden Valley, and told him that, if he found his way to Solitude Peak and said that he had come from the "White Wizard," he would find many converts among the liberated slaves and the people of the village.

On being asked whether he had seen the Portuguese and his Arabs on the river, the Missionary answered that he had passed them not an hour ago. The Arabs had been paddling furiously, as if their lives depended upon their reaching the Congo with as little delay as possible. As for the Portuguese, he had been lying as if sick, in the body of the canoe, with his head propped against a great ironbound chest.

Crouch waited to hear no more. Waving his hand to the Missionary, he gave orders for the journey to continue.

That evening, they expected to arrive at CÆsar's camp, but by midnight they had come to the conclusion that the man was resolved to push on without halting for food.

It was now that M'WanÉ and his four companions--the three that had gone to Solitude Peak and the one who had been left at the Island--asked to be put ashore. They said they were not far from their own people, and were desirous of returning home. For all that, they were extremely sorry to leave their masters, the great white men who had overcome the Fire-gods.

When they left, there was much hand-shaking. Each man was presented with a rifle and several rounds of ammunition, in addition to that they received enough beads, brass rods, and cloth, to gladden the hearts of any savage who ever roamed the equatorial forests.

Throughout the night the canoes paddled to the north-west. All this time de Costa lay in the body of a canoe, groaning with ague and shivering from fever. It is a strange thing that in the close and humid atmosphere of the forest there is little malaria or malarial typhoid, which cause such havoc among the white men on the great rivers of the Congo Basin. For it is above the surface of the water that the mosquitoes swarm, which breed these fell diseases.

At daybreak they sighted CÆsar. They saw his canoe for no longer than an instant as it rounded a bend in the river. The natives plied their paddles with a will, and Crouch, in the vanguard of the pursuit held his rifle ready to fire.

All day long, beneath the blazing tropic sun, with the insects droning in their ears and the yellow seething water rushing onward to the sea, this strange race continued.

Three times did they catch sight of the fugitives; once in the morning, once at mid-day, and the last time when the afternoon was drawing to a close.

By then they were not five hundred yards in the rear. It seemed probable that the Portuguese would be overtaken before night. Throughout that day native settlements on either bank of the river had been frequent. They were but two hundred miles above the point where the Kasai joins the Congo, to the north of Stanley Pool.

At last they entered a broad reach, where the river was straight as a Roman road. On either side the jungle rose to the height of about two hundred feet--a tangled mass of vegetation, of creepers, vines, convolvuli, so densely interwoven as to give the effect of endless walls. Far in the distance, at the end of this long reach, they could see an island standing in mid-stream, as if it floated on the surface of the river.

Resolved to overtake the man before darkness set in and assisted his escape, they urged the canoes forward, until CÆsar recognised himself for lost. Two shots from Crouch, and CÆsar's canoe drew in to the bank of the island.

As they approached they saw the Portuguese lifted out of his canoe in the arms of his faithful Arabs, and deposited on the bank. Then the Arabs, taking their rifles in their hands, opened fire on their pursuers.

They realized at once that resistance would be hopeless. The Loango boys, after many weeks of inactivity on Date Palm Island, were spoiling for a fight. Not all of them were armed with rifles, but the odds were two to one against the Arabs, who knew that they could always trust the white men to show mercy. No sooner had the Englishmen set foot upon the island than they delivered up their arms.

Had Crouch shot them on the spot these men, who for two years had been scourging slaves with their whips, had got no more than they deserved. As it was, their weapons were not given back to them, and they were turned adrift upon the great river, with a week's provisions, to find their way back as best they might to some settlement of their own kith and kin.

And then the Englishmen were able to give their attention to CÆsar. The tall man lay upon the ground, rigid as in death. The whole party gathered around him, with the exception of de Costa, who was himself too ill to land upon the island.

CÆsar's complexion was a dull, slaty-blue. His face was drawn and haggard, his eyes had sunk deep into their sockets. As Max pushed his way through the inquisitive Loango boys, who stood gaping at the dying man, CÆsar struggled to a sitting position, and supporting his back against a tree, looked savagely about him.

"Stand back!" cried Max. "It's cholera!"

It was then he realized the truth. CÆsar had thrashed one of his slaves for no greater crime than having contracted the pestilence that was ravaging his camp. Max had snatched the whip from the man's hand and brought down upon his face and hands and back the cruel thong, whose very touch was contagion. And thus was the vengeance of God, upon one who had done evil all his days, taken from the hands of Captain Crouch.

Max was actually on his way back to his canoe to procure his medicine chest when the man looked about him, rolled his eyes to the heavens, as if he who had shown so little of mercy to others thought to find it there. Then he fell back with a groan, and lay cramped and twisted in the agony of his death.

That night, they buried him upon the island. They filled ammunition boxes with the rubies, and burnt the chest against which CÆsar had rested his head. And then, they left him in the starlight, in the midst of the great stillness of the lonely river, to make his peace with God.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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