CHAPTER VIII
Jack in Command
"We've come out of that better than I expected," said Mr. Martindale,when the chief had gone. "I only hope our new brother won't carry hisaffection too far. If he keeps piling in food in this way, our fellowswill wax fat and kick."
"You'll have to give him a hint, uncle. Proverbs are mostlyold-fashioned rubbish, but there's one that would suit him: 'Enough isas good as a feast.'"
"Which no nigger would believe. Now I wonder when he will take us tofind this ore. The sooner the better, although I calculate he doesn'tknow the value of time."
Imbono returned in the course of the afternoon, and said that he wouldbe ready to conduct the white men to the gold region next day. But hestipulated that only his new brothers should accompany him. To thiscondition no one objected but Nando, who appeared to regard it as apersonal slight.
"Berrah well, berrah well," he said, his tone suggesting that he washedhis hands of the business. "Nando no go, massa no can say nuffin toImbono. Berrah well; all same."
Immediately after breakfast next morning the two set off in Imbono'scompany, Jack carried a prospector's pan for washing the soil, Mr.Martindale having declared that he didn't expect to find nuggets lyingaround. They also carried enough food for the day. Imbono struck offdue west from the village; then, when well out of sight, he made adetour, and passing through a couple of miles of dense forest, entereda broken hilly country, which to Mr. Martindale's experienced eyeshowed many traces of volcanic disturbance. At last, forcing their waythrough a belt of tangled copse, with many scratches from pricklysprays, they came upon a deep gully, at the bottom of which ran astream of brownish water, now some twenty feet in breadth. That it wasmuch broader at certain seasons was shown by the wide edging of sandand pebbles at each side.
The chief came to a halt at the edge of the gully, and pointing up anddown the stream, said something in his own language. Mr. Martindalenodded his head, but said to Jack--
"I suppose he means we're right there. Why on earth could not he letNando come and do the translating?"
"Show him your watch, uncle!"
At the sight of the watch Imbono nodded his head rapidly and ejaculatedwhat was clearly an affirmative. Then he led the way down the rockyside of the gully, the others scrambling after him. On reaching thesandy strand Mr. Martindale bent down and eagerly examined it. Takingsome of the sand and pebbles in his hand, he stuck a magnifying glassin his eye and picked them over carefully.
"Looks promising, Jack," he said, with the enthusiasm of an old miner."There are little granules of quartz mixed up with the sand, and aparticle or two of iron. But that don't prove there's gold. We'lljust try a little experiment."
He emptied a few handfuls of the soil into the pan, filled this withwater from the stream, and moved the pan to and fro so as to give thewater a concentric motion, Jack and the chief watching him with equalinterest. Every now and then Mr. Martindale would cant off a little ofthe water, which carried off some of the lighter sand with it.
"What you may call a process of elimination or reduction," he said.
"_Reductio ad absurdum_, uncle?"
"I hope not. Guess you're smartening up, Jack."
"Call it survival of the fittest, then."
"Of the thickest, I'd say. This washing carries off the useless lightsand, and leaves the heavy stuff behind, and it's in that we'll findgold if at all."
After nearly half an hour's patient manipulation of the pan, there wasleft in the bottom a blackish powder and some coarse grains of quartz,with just enough water to cover them.
"Look at that, my boy," said Mr. Martindale. "First time you've seenanything of that sort, I guess."
"But where's the gold, uncle?"
"That's what remains to be seen--perhaps. Keep your eye on that grooveas I tilt the pan round. The black stuff is iron-stone; you needn'ttrouble about that. See if it leaves anything else."
He gently tilted the pan so that the water slowly flowed round thegroove, carrying with it the quartz grains and the powder. Jackwatched narrowly. After the contents of the pan had made the circuittwo or three times he suddenly exclaimed--
"There's a sort of glitter left behind the powder, uncle."
"I reckon that's enough," said Mr. Martindale, setting down the pan."We've hit it, Jack."
Jack could not refrain from giving a cheer. The chief, who had buthalf approved the proceedings at the beginning, caught the infection ofthe lad's enthusiasm, and snapped his fingers and slapped his thighsvigorously.
"We'll have another look higher up," said Mr. Martindale. "One swallowdon't make a summer--another piece of what you call antiquated rubbish,Jack. There's gold here, that's certain; but I don't know whether it'srich enough to be worth working."
They walked for half a mile up the stream, and Mr. Martindale wentthrough the same process with the soil there. He was again rewarded.This time, however, the trace of gold was more distinct.
"Jack, my boy," he said, "there's a small fortune in the bed of thestream alone. But I'm not satisfied yet. It's up to us now todiscover the mother lode. To judge by the size of the stream it can'tbe far off. The botheration is we can't talk to the chief, and I sayit's most unbrotherly to refuse us the advantage of an interpreter."
"Well, we've plenty of time, uncle. I vote we have our lunch and thengo on again."
They sat down on boulders at the edge of the river and ate the manioccakes and bananas with which Barney had provided them. Imbono seemedpleased when he was invited to share their lunch. Going into theforest, he returned with a large leaf which he shaped like a cup, andin this he brought water from the stream for the white men.
After lunch they followed up the stream. At intervals Mr. Martindalestopped to test the gravel, and found always some trace of gold, nowslight, now plentiful. Some three miles up they came to a confluence.The stream was joined by a smaller swifter one, which evidently tookits rise in the steep hilly country now becoming visible through thetrees.
"We'll try this, Jack."
"Why?"
"Because the bed's more gravelly than the other. I guess the bigstream comes out of the forest somewhere; the other will suit our bookbest."
They found their progress becoming more and more difficult. The groundwas more rocky, the sides of the gully were steeper, and the edging ofdry gravel diminished until by and by it disappeared altogether, andthe prospectors had to take off their boots and socks and wade. Therewere trees and bushes here and there on the sides and at the top of thegully, but the vegetation became more and more scanty as they ascended.Presently the sound of falling water struck upon their ears, and asudden turn of the stream brought them into full view of a cataract.At this point the gully had widened out, and the water fell over abroad smooth ledge of rock, dashing on the stones after a descent ofsome fifty or sixty feet.
"That's fine!" exclaimed Jack, halting to watch the cascade sparklingin the sunlight, and the brownish white foam eddying at the foot.
"Grand!" assented Mr. Martindale. "There's enough water power there tosave many a thousand dollars' worth of machinery."
"I was thinking of the scenery, not machinery, uncle," said Jack, witha laugh.
"Scenery! Why, I've got a lot finer waterfall than that on mydining-room wall. It isn't Niagara one way or t'other, but it'll do alot of mill grinding all the same. Now, Jack, you're younger than Iam. I want to see what there is by those rocks ten feet away from thebottom of the fall. Strip, my boy; a bath will do you a power of good,a hot day like this; and there are no crocodiles here to make you feeljumpy."
Jack stripped and was soon waist deep in the water. Reaching the spothis uncle had indicated, he stooped, and found that he could just touchthe bottom without immersing himself. The water was too frothy for thebottom to be seen; he groped along it with his hands, bringing up everynow and then a small fragment of quartz or a handful of gravel, whichMr. Martindale, after inspecting it from a dista
nce, told him to throwin again.
At last, when he was getting somewhat tired of this apparently uselessperformance, he brought up a handful of stones, not to as eyesdiffering from what he had seen for the past half hour. He spread themout for his uncle, now only two or three yards away, to examine.
"I guess you can put on your clothes now," said Mr. Martindale. "Why,hang it, man! you've thrown it away!"
Jack had pitched the stones back into the water.
"I thought you'd done, uncle," he said.
"So I have, and you're done too--done brown. D'you know you've thrownaway a nugget worth I don't know how many dollars?"
"You didn't tell me what you were after," said Jack, somewhat nettled."I couldn't be expected to know you were hunting for nuggets."
"No, you couldn't be expected: and that's just exactly what I broughtyou over to America for. When you've had the kind of smartening up Imean you to have, you won't talk about what's expected or not expected;you'll just figure it out that there's some reason in everything, andyou'll use your own share of reason accordingly."
"All right, uncle," replied Jack good-humouredly. "I might have puttwo and two together, perhaps. At school, you see, they liked us to doas we were told without arguing. 'Theirs not to reason why'--you know.Shall I fish for that nugget?"
"Not worth while. A few dollars more or less are neither here northere. I know what I want to know, and now I think we'd better begetting. Put your clothes on. Our brother Imbono has several timesanxiously pointed to the sun. He evidently isn't comfortable at theidea of being benighted in these regions."
Screwing some of the sifted gravel into a bag of leaves, Mr. Martindalesigned to the chief that he was ready to return. They reached the campjust as the sun was setting. In honour of the recent discovery, Mr.Martindale invited the chief to supper, and gave him a regale whichastonished him. To see the white man bring peaches out of a closed potmade Imbono open his eyes; but the sensation of the evening wasfurnished by a bottle of soda water. When the stopper was loosed andthe liquid spurted over, the chief shrank back in amazement, uttering astartled cry. Nando, not skilled in European politeness, guffaweduproariously.
"Him say debbil water, sah. Yah! yah!"
Nothing would induce Imbono to drink the stuff. But he took kindly totea, and being prevailed on to try a pinch of snuff, he laughedheartily when the paroxysm of sneezing was over, and asked for more.
"Him say like laugh-cry dust plenty much," said Nando.
When the chief had eaten his fill, Mr. Martindale, with considerablediplomacy, explained that the discovery of gold was of little use tohim unless he could take men to the spot, and desired the withdrawal ofthe prohibition. Nando took a long time to convey this to Imbono, andJack suspected that he was making somewhat lavish promises in thenature of _quid pro quo_. Imbono at length agreed to the white man'srequest, provided none of the workers he wished to take with him wereservants of the Great White Chief. He consented also to lead him backto the cataract next day, so that he might complete his search for thegold-bearing rocks.
On this second journey Mr. Martindale and Jack were accompanied by twoof their negroes with picks. On arriving at the spot the men were setto break away portions of the rocky wall on the left of the cataract.
"You see, Jack," said Mr. Martindale, "the fact that we found gold inthe stream shows that it is still being washed down by the water;otherwise it would have been swept away or buried long ago. The rockmust be of a soft kind that offers comparatively little resistance tothe water, and I'm rather inclined to think that not so very many yearsago the cataract was a good deal farther forward than it is now. Well,the gold-bearing stratum must run right through the cataract,horizontally I suspect. It may not be a broad one, but it willprobably extend some distance on each side of the fall, and a fewhours' work ought to prove it."
As the rock fell away under the negroes' picks, Mr. Martindale and Jackcarefully washed samples of it. In less than an hour the glitteringtrail shone out clear in the wake of the granules of rock as they slidround the groove.
"So much for the first part of our job," said Mr. Martindale, with aquiet sigh of satisfaction. "The next thing is to see if the goldextends above the cataract."
Under Imbono's guidance the party made their way by a detour to theriver banks above the falls. After a search of some hours Mr.Martindale declared himself satisfied that the lode was confined to therocks over which the water poured.
"We can't do much more for the present," he said. "The next thing isto get machinery for working the ore. We'll have to go back to Boma.We can probably get simple materials for working the alluvial depositsthere, but the machinery for crushing the ore must be got from Europe,and that'll take time. We'll pack up and start to-morrow."
But after breakfast next morning, when Mr. Martindale had lighted hismorning cigar, he startled Jack by saying suddenly--
"Say, Jack, how would you like to be left here with Barney and some ofthe men while I go back to Boma?"
"What a jolly lark!" said Jack, flushing with pleasure.
"Humph! That's a fool's speech, or a schoolboy's, which often comes tothe same thing. I'm not thinking of larks, or gulls, or geese, but ofserious business."
"Sorry, uncle. That's only my way of saying I should like itimmensely."
"I've been turning it over in the night. I want to make a man of you,Jack; I want to see if there's any grit in you. There ought to be, ifyou're your mother's boy. Anyway this will give you a chance. Thingsare this way. We've struck a fortune here. Well, I'm an old miner,and I don't allow anybody to jump my claim. I don't reckon any one islikely to jump it; still, you never know. That fellow Elbel, now; he'san official of the Belgian company, and he knows what I'm here for. Hemight take it into his head to steal a march on me, and though I've gotthe mining monopoly for all this district, you bet that won't be muchof a protection of my claim all these miles from civilization. So it'sadvisable to have a man on the spot, and it's either you or me. Youdon't know anything about mining machinery, so I guess it's no goodsending you to Boma. Consequently, you must stay here."
"I'm jolly glad of the chance, uncle. I'll look after your claim."
"Spoiling for a fight, eh? But we mustn't have any fighting. Mindyou, all this is only speculation--foresight, prudence, call it whatyou like. I don't calculate on any one trying to do me out of myrights. And if any one tries to jump my claim, it won't do for you tomake a fool of yourself by trying to oppose 'em by force. All you cando is to sit tight and keep an eye on things till I get back. I don'tknow I'm doing right to leave you: you're the only nephew I've got, andyou can't raise nephews as you raise pumpkins. But I thought it allout while you were snoring, and I've made up my mind to give it atrial. Patience and tact, that's what you want. You've got 'em, oryou haven't. If you have, I reckon it's all right: if you haven't----"
"Your cigar has gone out, dear old man," said Jack, laying his hand onhis uncle's.
"So it has. I'll try another. Well, that's settled, eh? I'll be asquick as I can, Jack: no doubt I'll find a launch when I reach theCongo, or even before if Elbel's boss at Makua likes to make himselfpleasant. But I've no doubt Elbel has coloured up our little meetingin his report to headquarters. Anyhow, I should be right back in twoor three months--not so very long after all. I'll forward some riflesand ammunition from the first station where I can get 'em: the sale ofarms is prohibited in this State, of course; but that isn't the onlylaw, by all accounts, that's a dead letter here, and I don't doubt alittle palm-oil will help me to fix up all I want. You'll have toteach the men how to use 'em, and remember, they're only forself-defence in the last extremity. See?"
"I'll be careful, uncle. It's lucky we've a friend in Imbono. I thinkwe'll get along first-rate. Nando can do the interpreting till I learnsomething of the language."
"Jingo! I'd forgotten Nando. That's a poser, Jack. I shall want himto pilot me down to Boma. I can't get along
without an interpreter.That's a nailer on our little scheme, my boy; for of course you can'tstay here without some one to pass your orders to the men."
Jack looked very crestfallen. The prospect of being left in charge wasvery delightful to him, and he had already been resolving to showhimself worthy of his uncle's trust. The thing he had regretted mostin leaving Rugby was that he would never be in the Sixth and a "power."He did not shrink from responsibility; and it was hard to have hishopes of an independent command dashed at the moment of opportunity.Suddenly an idea occurred to him. "Are you sure none of the other menknow enough English to serve my turn?" he said.
"Nando said not a man jack of 'em knows it but himself. I'll call himup and ask him again."
Nando came up all smiles in answer to the call. "You told me that noneof the men speak English but yourself," said Mr. Martindale; "is thattrue?"
"Too plenty much true, sah. Me speak troof all same, sah."
"That's unfortunate. We're going back to Boma. I wanted to leave Mr.Jack here, but I can't do that unless he has some one to do the talkingfor him. Go and get the things packed up, Nando."
The negro departed with alacrity. But not five minutes later hereturned, accompanied by a negro a little shorter than himself, butotherwise showing a strong resemblance. Both were grinning broadly.
"My brudder, sah," said Nando, patting the younger man on the shoulder."He berrah fine chap. Him Lepoko. Speak Inglesa; berrah clebber.Nando go with big massa, Lepoko stay with little massa; oh yes! all toofine and jolly."
"Lepoko speaks English, does he?" said Mr. Martindale. "Then you're aliar, Nando!"
"No, sah, me no tell lies, not at all. Lepoko no speak Inglesa all detime, sah. What for two speak Inglesa one time? Too much nise, massano can hear what Nando say. Nando go, all same; massa muss hab someone can talk. Berrah well; den Lepoko hab go; can talk all right. Heshow massa what can do."
"One, two, free, forty, hundred fousand," began Lepoko glibly. "Tenlittle nigger boys. What de good of anyfink? Way down de Swanneeribber----"
"That'll do, that'll do!" cried Mr. Martindale, laughing. "You've gotyour interpreter, Jack. Nando, get ready to start. Bring nine menwith you, the rest will stay with Mr. Jack. The fellow was hankeringafter the flesh-pots of Boma, I suppose," he added, when Nando hadgone, "and that accounts for his sudden discovery of his brother'seloquence--too jealous of his own importance to give it away before.Now there's Barney, Jack. I don't know how he'll take being left here."
Barney took it very well. When Mr. Martindale mentioned that he wouldbe absent for at least two months, he remarked--
"Bedad, sorr, I'll be getting fat at last. Imbono sent another heap ofmaniac this morning, and seeing that I'll have nothing whativer to dofor two months, sure I'll be a different man entirely by the time youcome back."
An hour later the shore was crowded with natives come to bid the whiteman farewell. Imbono was there with all the men of his village. Athis final interview with Mr. Martindale he had promised to watchcarefully over the welfare of his young blood brother; he would supplyhim and his men with food, and defend him from wild beasts andaggressive black men, and his villagers should at once set aboutbuilding new huts for the party.
"Remember, Jack, patience--and tact. God bless you, my boy."
"Good-bye, uncle. Hope you'll have a pleasant journey. And on the waydown keep an eye lifting for Samba."
Then the ten natives struck the water with their paddles, the canoeglided down the stream, and as it disappeared round a bend of the riverJack heard the men's voices uplifted in a new song composed for theoccasion.
"What are they singing, Lepoko?" he asked of his new interpreter.
"Me tell massa.
"Down brown ribber, Broad brown ribber, White man go In canoe. Good-bye, Ilola, Good-bye, Imbono, Good-bye, Jacko, Brave Jacko, Young Jacko. He save Imbono, Lucky Imbono; Down brown ribber White man go."
Samba: A Story of the Rubber Slaves of the Congo Page 11