CHAPTER XXIII
AN EYE FOR AN EYE
The expedition wandered southward leisurely, and Dane grew more savagelysullen as they passed dripping forest and foul morass in safety, untilat last he ordered his tent to be pitched one sunset, fully a hundredyards from the camp. The light was failing when he stood outside itlooking about him with a curious suggestion of anticipation in his face.They had reached the southern fringe of the Leopards' country, andanother week's march should place them in touch with French officials.The forest was comparatively open, the cottonwoods growing well apart;and gazing between the long rows of towering trunks streaked by bluewood smoke, Dane could catch the shimmer of a sluggish creek. It wasdeep and miry, and haunted, as he had seen, by huge saurians, but alittle produce evidently came down that way, for the bush path on eitherside was connected by a native ferry.
As he made a last survey the light died out; and his lamp was lightedwhen Amadu, Monday, and Bad Dollar came softly into the tent. Dane stoodupright, but the rest crouched low among the cases, that they might notreveal their presence on the illuminated canvas. Monday growled aprotest as he noticed how his master's figure was projected against itby the light; but his comments fell unheeded, for there was a definitepurpose behind the white man's imprudence.
"Again I found the footsteps," Amadu reported, using a mixture ofseveral tongues, as well as broken English. "The men who made them weretired, and have doubtless followed us far. They will surely be satisfiedwhen they see us resting to-night."
Monday grinned wickedly; Bad Dollar flung back his woolly head and brokeinto a silent laugh; and Dane felt a thrill of satisfaction as heglanced at the speaker. The four formed a curiously assorted company;but one purpose dominated each of them equally, and the leader wascontented with his assistants.
"One wore boots and trod in the soft places as no black man would," saidAmadu, reading the unspoken question in the white man's eyes. "Anotherwore sandals, and went cunningly, as did the rest, walking as we do uponour naked feet. Still, they left this behind them among the thorns."
He held out what Dane was not surprised to see, a small tuft ofleopard's fur, and laughed harshly.
"Ho, ho! We shall try whether they are devils with lead and steel!"
"The ferry canoe?" asked Dane briefly; and Amadu nodded.
"I go to see to it, and afterward it will need good witchcraft to findit. If any one would go south in a hurry he must swim to-night."
"There are crocodiles in that stream," smiled Dane. "You will take menyou can trust and hide them where the path winds down to the water,Amadu. Monday, you will see that until I call, no boy leaves the camp,but let them lie down with their matchets beside them. Bad Dollar willwait with me; and I will borrow Cappy Maxwell's gun to-night, Amadu."
Sitting low among the cases now, Dane made careful preparations for hisown share in the approaching tragedy. That it would prove one he feltcertain. He cleaned Maxwell's gun with a loving care, polishing theinside of the barrel until it glistened, and touching each part of theaction with oil. The weapon was a heavy, single eight-bore, with arubber pad on the heel; part of this Dane cut away, leaving the steelbare, because he knew that at close quarters the butt of a heavy gun mayprove as deadly as the muzzle. It was with a curious stirring ofrecollections that he saw the dead man's initials cut into the elevatedrib, and because of them his face was the sterner as he laid down theweapon. At short range in the darkness it was likely to prove moreformidable than any rifle, and--for Dane was wholly under the influenceof the monomania--his own safety counted for little if he could use itwith due effect.
Presently he reloaded half a dozen cartridges with heavy B pellets,crimping the wads down almost affectionately, and thrust one into thechamber and the rest into his pocket. Never were cartridges filled withgreater care. Then he laid two of the colored lights Maxwell had broughtbeside the tent door, made sure he could find them by feeling alone, andplaced a tin match-box in one pocket where it could be most quicklygrasped.
At last all was ready, and Dane sat perched high on a deal case betweenthe lamp and the canvas for a while. Any one in the forest could, ofcourse, see him clearly; but though Dane expected his foes would strikethat night he did not fear a long-range shot. Rideau, he knew, must haverecognized that his late associate could lay a formidable complaintbefore the authorities, who, regarding his inland journeys withsuspicion, would be glad to fasten any charge upon him, and perhapsequally glad of an excuse to send an expedition up into the Leopards'country.
After lying for a time on the matting at one end of the tent, he roseand turned the lamp out; the watching then was not cheerful, and it wascomforting to feel the weight of the big gun upon his knee. The last humof voices had died away in camp, the fires burned low, and except for anoccasional floundering beside the creek, the bush was strangely silent.The darkness was now intense. The wild animals would await moonrise tobegin their hunting; what Dane expected would happen before then. Hecould not see Bad Dollar, who crouched somewhere near the entrance ofthe tent, though he heard his file grate softly upon a matchet, andcould picture him running a black thumb along the keen-edged blade atevery cessation.
Confused memories crowded upon Dane, with Maxwell stalking through themall. He saw him again, alert, indomitable, resourceful, quelling themutinous, cheering the dejected, and tending the sick. He saw himgasping his life away in that very tent, with, regardless of his ownagony, words which would brighten all his partner's future upon hislips; and again a gust of passion stirred the lonely man in every fiber.It passed, and--for Dane was not for the time being wholly sane--leftbehind it a coldly murderous resolution.
Suddenly there was a touch upon his leg. Without a sound Bad Dollar hadwriggled toward him. Turning as silently as he could, Dane crawled tothe entrance, where he crouched with his right heel beneath him, behindthe drawn-back sheeting which hung slackly. It was so dark that he couldscarcely distinguish the nearest cottonwood; but though his ears failedto localize any definite sound he became conscious of some dangerapproaching. Under different circumstances Dane would have feltdistinctly uneasy, knowing, as he did, that the thick gloom shelteredthose who sought his life. Then, however, he feared only that he had notaccurately loaded the cartridge, or that the damp had spoiled thefulminating mixture inside its cap; and his fingers were woodenly steadyas they tightened on the gun.
He felt with one hand for the socket of the signal light and found it,stretched out a foot and pressed it against Bad Dollar when he touchedhim again warningly; and then the vague sensation of impending dangergrew into shape at a recognizable sound. Noiselessly almost, but notquite, somebody or something was crawling toward the tent.
Dane suspended his very respiration as he strained his eyes, andlistened. He could see nothing, and his ears seemed filled with a dullthrobbing, but in spite of this he could hear the faintest of rustlingson two sides of the tent at once, and knew that, because no white mancould move in such a manner, his dusky enemies were coming. One seemedto be making for the end of the tent, where his bed was spread; theother was creeping toward the entrance to prevent the escape of thevictim in case his comrade failed at the first attempt. It was done withso little noise that Dane found it hard to realize he had creatures offlesh and blood to deal with, and not the malevolent devils the bushmenbelieved in. Bad Dollar made no further movement, and Dane crouchedwoodenly still, only sliding his forefinger inside the guard of thetrigger when at last a spray of leaves swished softly a few yards away.
Then he heard somebody breathing close beside him, and knew that suddendeath stood hidden behind the slacker sheeting which began to roll backvery slowly; and yet, while the throbbing in his ears grew louder, heremained impassive another few seconds. He had awaited that momentpatiently; and he meant to strike decisively, for his dead comrade'ssake. There was no light. The night was black and thick; but some sensebeside that of the optic nerve made it evident that part of the movingsheeting was more rigid than the rest because it rested agains
t humanflesh. Knowing that at the next move the assassin would fall over him,Dane felt for that portion of the sheeting with the muzzle of the gunwhile his forefinger contracted on the trigger.
The barrel found something that yielded as he added the last ounce ofpressure; there was a detonation; the white man fell backward with hiseyes filled with smoke and two fingers gashed by the trigger guard; andsomething that struggled convulsively fell upon the canvas and bore itdown.
The tent collapsed behind Dane as he slipped from under it; but knowinghow the heavy B-shot would at that distance smash through bone andmuscle, he paid no more attention to this assailant. First he snappedout the spent cartridge and crammed another home, then, striking amatch, touched the signal light. It smoldered for a moment, then acolumn of blue fire swept aloft, and its radiance which beat athwart thetowering trunks showed a striking spectacle.
Close behind the white man a shapeless heap of fur and black flesh layquivering upon the over-turned tent. Half-seen for a second a dimfigure, whose garments were not those of a native, vanished among theremoter trunks. Men with weapons came flitting out of the shadows whichshrouded the camp; and about thirty yards away a monstrous object withthe head of a beast and the legs of a man was slinking toward a creeperfestoon. Dane flung the gun to his shoulder and fired as it ran, but theglare of the light beat transversely along the barrel, blinding him.Springing clear of the filmy smoke, he saw the second assailant wasstill running, and he sprang forward without waiting to reload. Thelight would last but a few more seconds. Still, the object moved attwice his speed, and might have escaped but that as he blundered on,choking in his haste, a diminutive figure ran forth to meet it, and thebeast flung an upper limb aloft. Dane saw the spear which had been meantfor his destruction draw back to stab; but the negro, Bad Dollar, sprangsideways, and his broad matchet, long filed to a razor-edge, flaredunder the last flicker of the light as he swung it round his head. Thenthere was sudden darkness, a thud and a crash.
Dane, guessing that Bad Dollar's matchet had bitten deep, and that hiscarrier comrades would see his victim did not escape, turned at top-mostspeed in the direction of the creek. Men came running behind him; but aheavier sound was audible through the patter of their feet, and he knewthat one who was not barefooted fled for his life near ahead. He wasrunning fast, but Dane, flinging the gun down, knew that he was gaining,and remembered that the man he sought would find his passage barredacross the creek. So they ran, straining every sinew in a desperaterace. Now and then one smashed through a thorn brake, or staggered,catching his foot in a creeper vine, but neither went down, and thegurgle of the creek grew nearer all the time. Dane raised his voice, andthough his cry was barely articulate it proved sufficient, and asAmadu's hail came back in answer the footsteps before him grew slower,and a tongue of flame shot up.
So far there had been no miscarriage, and to furnish light for theclimax a torch had been kept ready by one of Amadu's men. It showedfirst the group of grim black figures which guarded the narrow path tothe water through tall cane, and then a man in European dress who stoodstill, gasping with fear and rage.
It was Victor Rideau.
"See that no boy fires on him unless he moves!" Dane made shift to cry;and Rideau, turning, met him face to face.
"I have expected you a long time," Dane said brokenly, for the race hadtaxed his strength, and once more he was shaken by a fit of futile rage."Now I can't tell you how I regret we did not meet just five minutesearlier."
This was an adequate expression of the pursuer's feelings, for as hisenemy stood gazing about him in abject terror, Dane felt he could notstrike him down in cold blood, and he longed fiercely that he might beprovoked to some fresh violence.
"Can you understand, you thief and midnight assassin, that there is notenough room in this country for both of us?"
"I comprehend nothing, camarade," Rideau answered calmly. "What wouldyou of me?"
"Satisfaction!" Dane tried to choke down his fury. "There is a longaccount between us, and we could have settled it with less difficultyif you had had the courage of your confederates a few minutes ago. As itis, you can choose between a dash for the forest and a volley as you go,or a journey down to the coast in my custody. There you will be turnedover to the authorities. I reserve myself the privilege, if they do notrender you incapable of further mischief."
Rideau laughed.
"There I should denounce you for the plunder and killing of theIndigene. The Administration has no charge against me. I am good friendof the sous official, me. My friend, you are excite, and talkfoolishly."
"If the chief of the Administration is a friend of yours, his own wordsdon't bear it out. I can substantiate quite sufficient against you; andunless I'm greatly mistaken, the man with the cross on his forehead liesriddled with big shot beside my tent. A number of my boys will swear tohis identity. In the meantime I have no further words to waste with you.I intend to give the Administration the first opportunity for rewardingyou. It will be time for me to take further steps if they do not profitby it as I think they will."
Dane felt that he was weak; but even in his passion there were things hecould not do, and his enemy's helplessness was his protection. Also, heknew that justice is tempered with discretion throughout much of thatcountry, and he hoped that if the Authorities suspected Rideau ofdifferent offenses, but could not convict him, they would see that thischarge did not miscarry.
The assumption of indifference faded from Rideau's face, and with aswift glance over his shoulder he drew out his hand from under hisjacket. Dane afterward decided that he saw, what all the rest were toointent to notice, that the torch was burning out; for with an evidenteffort and a shrug of his shoulders he answered quietly.
"La bas they laugh at you, and I make you pay. Alors, when I am impotentI surrender to the force majeure."
Dane, calling to Amadu, strode forward with the failing light upon him.Unarmed as he was, this was distinctly foolish, and he might have paidfor his folly, for just before the negro dropped the torch Rideau flungone hand up, and simultaneously with a thin flash something hummed pastthe Briton's head. There was bewildering darkness, and Dane ran straightin upon his enemy, or where he supposed him to be, determined in spiteof the pistol to end the feud there and then. Rideau, however, hadbeaten him again, for the growth about the water-side began crackling,and when some of Amadu's men fired into it, the sound did not cease, andthey only came near destroying their master, who plunged savagelythrough the bending stems.
He fell into a pit of slime, sinking to the waist, and lost precioustime floundering in its oozy grip before he dragged himself out. Thenthere was further ooze with matted roots which fouled his feet, while asound behind him showed that the negroes were following. It was Amaduwho, when he had waded up to the shoulders and sought for room to swim,dragged him backward by main force; and though Dane struggled, he washeld fast in a grasp against which he was powerless.
"If the white man is alive he makes no sound," he said. "No man couldfind him in this darkness, but perhaps they who crawl along the bottomwill. Still, when one brings the canoe up we will look for him."
As his reason returned to him Dane realized that the search would beuseless. A hundred men might fail to find a fugitive who coweredmotionless amid the luxuriant aquatic growth, though, as Amadu hadsuggested, the scaled inhabitants of the river would be less likely tomiss him. Still, when somebody brought up a canoe he encouraged them byextravagant offers of cloth, and then turned back hurriedly toward thecamp. It would, while the confusion lasted, lie open to attack; and Danehoped that his enemy, if he succeeded in crossing the river, would leavea trail behind him which could be followed on the morrow.
Reaching his overturned tent he found a group of curious negroesclustered about it, and because a fire had been lighted, there was lightto show that the huddled mass of fur and dusky skin lay where it hadfallen. The canvas was foul with half-coagulated stains whose color madeit unnecessary to inquire if the wound had been fatal. Dane
had nocompunction. The man who had been slain when seeking his life withdevilish cunning was one of the league which had struck down hiscomrade. Stooping with a shudder of disgust, he stripped the leopard'sfur from the face beneath, and was not surprised to see that across-shaped scar on the forehead showed lividly.
"Where is the other? There were two?" he asked; and it was with reliefthat he saw Bad Dollar, whom he had forgotten, shamble toward him andthen turn beckoning. Dane followed the negro, who held high a blazingbrand, toward where another monstrous object lay full length among thetrampled undergrowth. The fur had fallen partly clear of the fleshbeneath, and he saw that Bad Dollar's matchet had done its work.
"Come here, all of you," called Dane. "Tell them to look at this man'sneck, Monday, and say if they know the meaning of what there is aboutit."
Monday talked with some of the negroes, who, chattering excitedly, bentwith fear and hesitation, to examine the tattooed device.
"Them boy say this yellow nigger and them other be big cappy among themLeopard, sah," Monday interpreted. "That be the Ju-Ju mark, and nocommon nigger done wear him, sah."
"Cappy Maxwell was right again," said Dane. "Make me a bed in the campand burn that tent to-morrow, Monday. I could not sleep in it--and Ithink until I leave this ghastly country I shall not sleep again. See tothe sentries and let the rest lie down while they can. We lib for go onagain with the sun."
The League of the Leopard Page 23