Fear seized him only at the thought of what would happen if clouds should veil the moon and the sky, for then he would find himself as though in a subterranean cavern. But this was not the only danger. The jungle in the night time, when, amidst the stillness can be heard every sound, every step, and almost the buzz which the insects creeping over the grass make, is downright terrifying. Fear and terror hover over it. Stas had to pay heed to everything, to listen, watch, look around in every direction, have his head on screws, as it were, and have the rifle ready to fire at any second. Every moment it seemed to him that something was approaching, skulking, hiding in ambush. From time to time he heard the grass stir and the sudden clatter of animals running away. He then conjectured that he had scared some antelopes which, notwithstanding posted guards, sleep watchfully, knowing that many yellow, terrible hunters are seeking them at that hour in the darkness. But now something big is darkly outlined under the umbrella-like acacia. It may be a rock and it may be a rhinoceros or a buffalo which, having scented a man, will wake from a nap and rush at once to attack him. Yonder again behind a black bush can be seen two glittering dots. Heigh! Rifle to face! That is a lion! No! Vain alarm! Those are fireflies for one dim light rises upwards and flies above the grass like a star shooting obliquely. Stas climbed onto ant-hillocks, not always to ascertain whether he was going in the right direction, but to wipe the cold perspiration from his brow, to recover his breath, and to wait until his heart, palpitating too rapidly, calmed. In addition he was already so fatigued that he was barely able to stand on his feet.
But he proceeded because he felt that he must do so, to save Nell. After two hours he got to a place, thickly strewn with stones, where the grass was lower and it was considerably lighter. The lofty hills appeared as distant as before; on the other hand nearer were the rocky ridges running transversely, beyond which the second, higher hill arose, while both evidently enclosed some kind of valley or ravine similar to the one in which the King was confined.
Suddenly, about three or four hundred paces on the right, he perceived on the rocky wall the rosy reflection of a flame.
He stood still. His heart again beat so strongly that he almost heard it amid the stillness of the night. Whom would he see below? Arabs from the eastern coast? Smain’s dervishes, or savage negroes who, escaping from their native villages, sought protection from the dervishes in the inaccessible thickets of the hills? Would he find death, or slavery, or salvation for Nell?
It was imperative to ascertain this. He could not retreat now, nor did he desire to. After a while he stepped in the direction of the fire, moving as quietly as possible and holding the breath in his bosom. Having proceeded thus about a hundred paces he unexpectedly heard from the direction of the jungle the snorting of horses and again stopped. In the moonlight he counted five horses. For the dervishes this would not be enough, but he assumed that the rest were concealed in the high grass. He was only surprised that there were no guards near them nor had these guards lighted any fires above to scare away the wild animals. But he thanked the Lord that it was so, as he could proceed farther without detection.
The luster on the rocks became more and more distinct. Before a quarter of an hour passed, Stas found himself at a place at which the opposite rock was most illuminated, which indicated that at its base a fire must be burning.
Then, crawling slowly, he crept to the brink and glanced below.
The first object which struck his eyes was a big white tent; before the tent stood a canvas field bed, and on it lay a man attired in a white European dress. A little negro, perhaps twelve years old, was adding dry fuel to the fire which illumined the rocky wall and a row of negroes sleeping under it on both sides of the tent.
Stas in one moment slid down the declivity to the bottom of the ravine.
XI
For some time from exhaustion and emotion he could not utter a word, and stood panting heavily before the man lying on the bed, who also was silent and stared at him with an amazement bordering almost upon unconsciousness.
Finally the latter exclaimed:
“Nasibu! Are you there?”
“Yes, master,” answered the negro lad.
“Do you see any one any one standing there before me?”
But before the boy was able to reply Stas recovered his speech.
“Sir,” he said, “my name is Stanislas Tarkowski. With little Miss Rawlinson I have escaped from dervish captivity and we are hiding in the jungle. But Nell is terribly sick; and for her sake I beg for help.”
The unknown continued to stare at him, blinking with his eyes, and then rubbed his brow with his hand.
“I not only see but hear!” he said to himself. “This is no illusion! What? Help? I myself am in need of help. I am wounded.”
Suddenly, however, he shook himself as though out of a wild dream or torpor, gazed more consciously, and, with a gleam of joy in his eyes, said:
“A white boy! — I again see a white one! I welcome you whoever you are. Did you speak of some sick girl? What do you want of me?”
Stas repeated that the sick girl was Nell, the daughter of Mr. Rawlinson, one of the directors of the Canal; that she already had suffered from two attacks of fever and must die if he did not obtain quinine to prevent the third.
“Two attacks — that is bad!” answered the unknown. “But I can give you as much quinine as you want. I have several jars of it which are of no use to me now.”
Speaking thus, he ordered little Nasibu to hand him a big tin box, which apparently was a small traveling drug store; he took out of it two rather large jars filled with a powder and gave them to Stas.
“This is half of what I have. It will last you for a year even.”
Stas had a desire to shout from sheer delight, so he began to thank him with as much rapture as if his own life were involved.
The unknown nodded his head several times, and said:
“Good, good, my name is Linde; I am a Swiss from Zurich. Two days ago I met with an accident. A wart-hog wounded me severely.”
Afterwards he addressed the lad:
“Nasibu, fill my pipe.”
Then he said to Stas:
“In the night-time the fever is worse and my mind becomes confused. But a pipe clears my thoughts. Truly, did you say that you had escaped from dervish captivity and are hiding in the jungle? Is it so?”
“Yes, sir. I said it.”
“And what do you intend to do?”
“Fly to Abyssinia.”
“You will fall into the hands of the Mahdists; whose divisions are prowling all along the boundary.”
“We cannot, however, undertake anything else.”
“Ah, a month ago I could still have given you aid. But now I am alone — dependent only upon Divine mercy and that black lad.”
Stas gazed at him with astonishment.
“And this camp?”
“It is the camp of death.”
“And those negroes?”
“Those negroes are sleeping and will not awaken any more.”
“I do not understand—”
“They are suffering from the sleeping sickness.* [* Recent investigations have demonstrated that this disease is inoculated in people by the bite of the same fly “tsetse” which kills oxen and horses. Nevertheless its bite causes the sleeping sickness only in certain localities. During the time of the Mahdist rebellion the cause of the disease was unknown.] Those are men from beyond the Great Lakes where this terrible disease is continually raging and all fell prey to it, excepting those who previously died of small-pox. Only that boy remains to me.”
Stas, just before, was struck by the fact that at the time when he slid into the ravine not a negro stirred or even quivered, and that during the whole conversation all slept — some with heads propped on the rock, others with heads drooping upon their breasts.
“They are sleeping and will not awaken any more?” he asked, as though he had not yet realized the significance of what he had heard.
And Linde said:
“Ah! This Africa is a charnel house.”
But further conversation was interrupted by the stamping of the horses, which, startled at something in the jungle, came jumping with fettered legs to the edge of the valley, desiring to be nearer to the men and the light.
“That is nothing — those are horses,” the Swiss said. “I captured them from the Mahdists whom I routed a few weeks ago. There were three hundred of them; perhaps more. But they had principally spears, and my men Remingtons, which now are stacked under that wall, absolutely useless. If you need arms or ammunition take all that you want. Take a horse also; you will return sooner to your patient — how old is she?”
“Eight,” Stas replied.
“Then she is still a child — Let Nasibu give you tea, rice, coffee, and wine for her. Take of the supplies whatever you want, and to-morrow come for more.”
“I shall surely return to thank you once more from my whole heart and help you in whatever I can.”
And Linde said:
“It is good even to gaze at a European face. If you had come earlier I would have been more conscious. Now the fever is taking hold of me, for I see double. Are there two of you above me? No, I know that you are alone and that this is only the fever. Ah! this Africa!”
And he closed his eyes.
A quarter of an hour later Stas started to return from this strange camp of sleep and death, but this time on horseback. The night was still dark, but now he paid no heed to any dangers which he might encounter in the high grass. He kept, however, more closely to the river, assuming that both ravines must lead to it. After all it was considerably easier to return, as in the stillness of the night came from a distance the roar of the waterfall; the clouds in the western sky were scattered and, besides the moon, the zodiacal light shone strongly. The boy pricked the horse on the flanks with the broad Arabian stirrups and rode at almost breakneck speed, saying in his soul: “What are lions and panthers to me? I have quinine for my little one!” And from time to time he felt the jars with his hand, as if he wanted to assure himself that he actually possessed them and that it was not all a dream. Various thoughts and pictures flitted through his brain. He saw the wounded Swiss to whom he felt immense gratitude and whom he pitied so heartily that, at first, during their conversation, he took him for a madman; he saw little Nasibu with skull as round as a ball, and the row of sleeping “pagahs,” and the barrels of the Remingtons stacked against the rock and glistening in the fire. He was almost certain that the battle which Linde mentioned was with Smain’s division, and it seemed strange to him to think that Smain might have fallen.
With these visions mingled the constant thought of Nell. He pictured to himself how surprised she would be to behold on the morrow a whole jar of quinine, and that she probably would take him for a performer of miracles. “Ah,” he said to himself, “if I had acted like a coward and had not gone to ascertain where that smoke came from I would not have forgiven myself during the rest of my life.”
After the lapse of a little less than an hour the roar of the waterfall became quite distinct and, from the croaking of frogs, he conjectured that he already was near the expansion where he had previously shot aquatic birds. In the moon’s luster he even recognized in the distance the trees standing above it. Now it was necessary to exercise greater caution, as that overflow formed at the same time a watering place to which all the animals of the locality came, for the banks of the river elsewhere were steep and inaccessible. But it was already late and the beasts of prey evidently hid in rocky dens after their nocturnal quests. The horse snorted a little, scenting the recent tracks of lions or panthers; nevertheless, Stas rode on happily, and a moment later saw on the high promontory the big black silhouette of “Cracow.” For the first time in Africa he had a sensation as if he had arrived at home.
He reckoned that he would find all asleep, but he reckoned without Saba, who began to bark loud enough to awaken even the dead. Kali also appeared before the tree and exclaimed:
“Bwana kubwa! On horseback!”
In his voice there was, however, more joy than surprise, as he believed in Stas’ powers so much that if the latter had even created a horse, the black boy would not have been very much surprised.
But as joy in negroes manifests itself in laughter, he began to slap his thighs with his palms and laugh like a madman.
“Tie this horse,” Stas said. “Remove the supplies from him, build a fire, and boil water.”
After this he entered the tree. Nell awoke also and began to call him. Stas, drawing aside the canvas wall, saw by the light of the fire-pot her pale face, and thin, white hands lying on the plaids with which she was covered.
“How do you feel, little one?” he asked merrily.
“Good, and I slept well until Saba awoke me. But why do you not sleep?”
“Because I rode away.”
“Where?”
“To a drug store.”
“To a drug store?”
“Yes, for quinine.”
The little girl did not indeed relish very much the taste of the quinine powders which she had taken before, but, as she regarded them as an infallible remedy for all the diseases in the world, she sighed and said:
“I know that you have not got any quinine.”
Stas raised one of the jars towards the fire-pot and asked with pride and joy:
“And what is this?”
Nell could scarcely believe her eyes, while he said hurriedly, with beaming countenance:
“Now you will be well! I shall wrap up at once a large dose in a fresh fig peel and you must swallow it. And you shall see with what you will drink it down. Why are you staring at me like at a green cat? Yes! I have a second jar. I got both from a white man, whose camp is about four miles from here. I have just returned from him. His name is Linde and he is wounded; nevertheless, he gave me a lot of good things. I went to him on foot, but I returned on horseback. You may think it is pleasant to go through the jungle at night. Brr! I would not go a second time for anything, unless I again needed quinine.”
Saying this, he left the astonished little maid while he went to the “men’s quarters,” selected from a supply of figs the smallest one, hollowed it out, and filled the center with quinine, taking care that the dose should not be greater than those powders which he had received in Khartûm. After which he left the tree, poured tea into a utensil with water, and returned to Nell with the remedy.
And during that time she reflected upon everything which had happened. She was immensely curious as to who that white man was. From whence did Stas get the information about him? Would he come to them, and would he travel along with them? She did not doubt that since Stas had secured the quinine she would regain her health. But Stas during the night-time went through the jungle as if it were nothing. Nell, notwithstanding her admiration for him, had considered, not reflecting much over it, that everything he did for her was to be taken as a matter of course, for it is a plain thing that an older boy ought to protect a little girl. But now it occurred to her that she would have perished long ago; that he cared for her immensely; that he gratified her and defended her as no other boy of his age would have done or knew how to do. So great gratitude overflowed in her little heart, and when Stas entered again and leaned over her with the remedy she threw her thin arms around his neck and hugged him heartily.
“Stas, you are very kind to me.”
While he replied:
“And to whom am I to be kind? Why, I like that! Take this medicine!”
Nevertheless he was happy; as his eyes glistened with satisfaction and again with joy and pride, he called, turning to the opening:
“Mea, serve the ‘bibi’ with tea, now!”
XII
Stas did not start for Linde’s camp the following day until noon, for he had to rest after the previous night’s adventure. On the way, anticipating that the sick man might need fresh meat, he killed two guinea-fowl, which were really
accepted with gratitude. Linde was very weak but fully conscious. Immediately after the greeting he inquired about Nell, after which he warned Stas that he should not regard quinine as an entirely sure cure for the fever and that he should guard the little one from the sun, from getting wet, from staying during the night in low and damp places, and finally from bad water. Afterwards Stas related to him, at his request, his own and Nell’s history from the beginning to the arrival in Khartûm and the visit to the Mahdi; and afterwards from Fashoda to their liberation from Gebhr’s hands, and their further wanderings. The Swiss gazed during the time of this narration with growing interest, often with evident admiration, and when the narrative reached an end he lit his pipe, surveyed Stas from head to foot, and said as if in a reverie:
“If in your country there are many boys like you, then they will not be able to manage you very easily.”
And after a moment of silence he continued:
“The best proof of the truth of your words is this, that you are here, that you are standing before me. And believe what I tell you: your situation is terrible; the road, in any direction, is likewise terrible; who knows, however, whether such a boy as you will not save yourself and that child from this gulf.”
Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz Page 641