CHAPTER XXX
Sinews of War
Barney came back to the camp tired out. Following up the only partythat seemed to have cohesion after leaving the fort--a party led by theBelgian sergeant--he had soon found himself left far behind in therace. But his men had done their work thoroughly; they had dispersedthe band, few of whom escaped.
"'Twas for this I was born, sorr," said Barney as he gripped Jack'shand. "Sure I'll be a fighter for iver more."
"You did splendidly, old fellow. I knew all was well when I heard yourhurroo! But there are five hundred men roaming the country and only ascore of able-bodied men in our fort. We must look after that. Getfifty fellows together and send them back under Imbono, Barney."
"And what'll ye be afther doing yourself, sorr?"
"Oh! I'm going down to the river. The job's only half done while thatflotilla is intact. I'm going to have a shot at it before the enemyget over their fright. I'll take a couple of hundred men with me.You'll keep a hundred and remove all the stores and ammunition here tothe fort; get the women and children to help; you can light the waywith flares. When the camp's empty burn it. And look after Samba,Barney; he's here, nearly dead, poor little chap! Mboyo's got him;we'll go and see how he is getting on."
Making their way to the north side of the camp they found Samba laid onthe floor of a hut, his father on one side of him, Pat on the other.The dog leapt up excitedly when he saw his master, and invited him witha yelp to come and see Samba. By the light of a torch Barney tenderlyexamined the boy. He was conscious, and smiled, even though he wincedunder the gentlest of touches.
"Ochone! Ochone!" exclaimed Barney. "'Tis the divil's own work, sorr.His poor flesh is wan jelly. By all the holy powers, if I catch thatmurdering ruff'n uv a fellow, that Elbel---- And I've no ointment atall at all. Bedad! but now I remimber Mr. Arlington has a wholedocthor's shop in wan uv his traps, and if he hasn't got boracicointment among his stuff, sure I'll think a mighty deal less uv him.'Twill take a month or more, sorr, to heal all the wounds on this poorbody; but we'll do it, plase God! and make a man of him yet."
"He dies, O Lokolobolo?" said Mboyo, looking up yearningly into Jack'sface.
"No, Barnio says no. He is very ill, but in a month he may be well,and Barnio says he is going to make a man of him."
"Bolotsi O! Bolotsi O!" cried the negro, slapping his thighs. "N'dok'olo aiyoko!"[1]
He laughed and clapped his hands like a child.
"It was Pat that showed me where Samba was," said Jack to Barney."Nando was tied up in a hut with him--he must have been captured withdear old Uncle--and the wretch saved himself by burning his ropesthrough and left Samba to perish in the flames. Pat dragged me to thespot."
"The darlint is worth his weight in gold," cried Barney delighted."That's twice he has saved Samba, sorr. Black men and white men arebrothers, or ought to be, and there's niver a doubt that dogs arecousins at the very least. And beggin' your pardon, sorr, I'll take apleasure in kicking Nando whin I get a look uv him. 'Tis a littlemilitary discipline he needs, to be sure."
"You can give him that in the fort. And by the way, you'll find a lotof rifles here; the enemy either hadn't time to get hold of them orelse threw them away. Arm some of our spearmen; they can tell themuzzle from the stock at any rate, and if any attempt is made to rushthe fort they could do a good deal of damage at close quarters. Andkeep scouts out. We don't know the exact whereabouts of Van Vorst'smain body, and it won't do to risk anything. But I hope you won't haveany trouble."
Bidding Barney farewell, Jack called up Makoko and Lingombela, and sentthem out with orders to discover the exact position of the flotilla,and to return at daybreak. An hour afterwards, with a hundred andfifty picked spearmen, sixty rifles, and a body of carriers with foodfor three days, he began a night march to the river. He himself wasunable to walk. His wound was becoming more and more painful, but hehad said nothing about it to Barney, being resolved not to sparehimself while anything remained to be done to complete his work. Fourmen, relieved at frequent intervals, carried him in the litter of whichhe had made such effective use to gain an entrance to the enemy's camp.This time, he thought with a smile, there was no pretence about it.
He guessed that Van Vorst's flotilla would be found about half waybetween Ilola and the spot where Mr. Martindale's canoes had beenhidden. It was one day's march across country, a much longer distanceby the river. For some hours he followed the path on which his uncleand he had been escorted by the Askari. The recollection of that marchbrought sad thoughts to his mind. Lying in the litter amid his men, asthe column wound its slow way along the forest track, the red glare oftheir torches throwing weird shadows around, he had plenty of time formelancholy reflections. The incidents of his uncle's last days wereburnt into his memory. He remembered the drawn, wasted features, nowpale with exhaustion, now bright with the hectic flush of fever; thequick uneasy breath; the slow labouring voice. He remembered the taleof persecution and wrong. More than all he remembered the earnest,passionate words in which the dying man had bequeathed to him the causeof the Congo natives, and besought him to use his utmost strength ontheir behalf. "Dear old Uncle!" he thought; "I am trying to do whatyou would have wished me to do. I can't do much; this is only a smallcorner of the plague-ridden country; how many thousands of poor peopleare without even such help as I can give! But it will be something ifonly the few hundreds in Ilombekabasi can regain and keep a little oftheir former happiness; and Uncle would be pleased; he is pleased, ifhe knows."
Then the other side of the picture stood out sharply to his mentalview. He saw the fleeing crowds of the enemy; the jammed gateway; thecamp enclosure strewn with dead and wounded. Once or twice, even, hismarching column came upon wounded men, too weak to crawl away into thebush, and he could do nothing for them. This terrible loss of life,this misery--was not this too due to the evil government of a monarchwho, far away, in wealth and luxury and ease, spoke with twovoices--one the voice of beneficence, benignity, zeal for peace andgood order; the other the voice of greed, avarice, the callous demandfor riches even at the price of blood? "Botofe bo le iwa! Rubber isdeath!"--the woful proverb haunted him like a knell: death to thedwellers in this well-favoured land, death to the minions of the powerthat oppressed them, death to those who, like his uncle, dared to makea stand for freedom and found themselves engulfed in the whirlpool ofinjustice and wrong.
As Jack approached the river, these gloomy thoughts gave way to thenecessities of the moment. Lepoko, leading the column, announced thatthe river was very near. Then Jack ordered the torches to be put out,and the men to creep forward even more silently than they had alreadydone. Had news of the storming of the camp been carried, he wondered,by fugitives to the flotilla? Since they had left the direct path tothe river and struck obliquely towards it there had been no sign offugitives. He supposed that the scared enemy had kept to the routethey knew, and would follow the river bank until they reached thecanoes. This involved many extra miles through the winding of thestream, unless the flotilla had come farther up than he thought waslikely.
The principal danger was that some of Elbel's scouts, knowing thecountry better than the majority of the garrison, might already havetaken the short cut Jack was now taking and would reach the flotillabefore him. There were two white officers in charge; they might setoff at once to the relief of their superior and reach the fort whileJack was still absent. Would Barney be strong enough to hold outagainst them?
The march was continued with brief rests throughout the night. Shortlyafter dawn a man sprang panting out of the thicket to the right of thepath, and hurried to Jack's litter.
"O Lokolobolo!" he cried, "I have news!"
Jack saw that it was Lofundo, sub-chief of Akumbi.
"It was in the smoke and the flame, Lokolobolo. I saw Elobela, withfear in his face, climb over the fence and rush out into the night.After him I sprang--I, and Bolumbu, and Iloko, and others. It wasElobela, the crue
l, the pitiless! After him, into the night! but firstIloko tired, then Bolumbu, then the others. I, Lofundo, I did nottire; no; was it not Elobela whose men ill-used and slew my people andburnt my village, and who with his own hands flogged my son? I ran andran, hot on his trail, and in the morning light I came up with him, andsaw him with fear in his face; and I had my knife; and now Elobela isdead, yonder, in the forest."
"Is it far, Lofundo?"
"A little march in the forest, Lokolobolo."
Jack had himself carried to the spot. There, beneath a tree, coveredwith felled branches and leaves to protect it from beasts, lay thestark body of Guillaume Elbel. Jack could not help pitying the wretchwhose zeal in an evil cause had brought him to so miserable an end.But as he thought of the misery this man had caused--the ruined homes,the desolated lives: as he remembered his uncle, lying in his lonelygrave, and Samba, lacerated by this man's cruel whip, pity froze withinhim.
"Cover him up," he said.
He waited while his men buried Elbel, there at the foot of the tree.
"Let us go!" he said; "we have work to do."
When Jack's column, according to Lepoko, was still an hour's march fromthe river, Lingombela, one of the advance scouts, came back with anegro in his grasp. He had captured him, said Lingombela, as he wasrunning from the river into the forest. Jack questioned the manthrough Lepoko. He said that his name was Bandoka, and he had been apaddler in Mutela's flotilla, and had suffered many times from thechicotte; he showed the marks on his back. Just after daybreak severalmen had come rushing madly into the clearing on the river bank wherethe soldiers of Bula Matadi had halted for the night. There was greatconfusion in the camp. He had heard it said among the paddlers thatthere had been a fight up the river at the Inglesa's fort, and that themen of Elobela had been badly beaten. The paddlers had already heardthe name of Lokolobolo. The fugitives said that Mutela was sorely inneed of help, and the white officer had at once started up the river inswift canoes, with most of the fighting men, leaving the rest to followwith the carriers. In the confusion attending the departure of theforce with three days' stores, Bandoka had contrived to slip away intothe forest. He would rather brave anything than endure further servicewith Bula Matadi.
Jack's first thought on hearing this news was that it simplified hisposition. The Congo officers had two days' journey before them; it wasstrange if he, with his lightly equipped force of men thoroughlyacquainted with the country, knowing the short cuts through the forest,the fordable places on the river, could not do much to impede andharass their advance. But on subsequent reflection a still boldercourse suggested itself to him. Was it possible to cut off the mainbody from its stores? The fighting men under their white commander hadalready started up the river; the stores would follow more slowly;Jack's line of march would strike the river at a point between the twoportions of the enemy's force. If he could capture the stores, wouldhe not have the main body at his mercy?
"How many fighting men are left to escort the canoes?" he asked.
"Him say no can tell. He run away plenty soon; plenty much nise, alltalk one time."
In the absence of precise information Jack could only conjecture. Thenews brought by the fugitive from Elbel's camp was such that a forcedespatched in support would probably consist of at least two-thirds ofthe available combatant strength. The officer must be aware that abody of men that could defeat Elbel with his seven hundred mixed troopscould scarcely be met with less than two hundred and fifty rifles. Nodoubt he would expect to be joined by some of Elbel's men; the fullmagnitude of the disaster would hardly be known; and like any otherwhite commander he would be inclined to discount the alarmist reportsof the fugitives. It would be safe to assume, thought Jack, that notmore than a hundred rifles had been left with the stores. How many ofthe paddlers were also fighting men, how many impressed like Bandoka,it was impossible to guess.
"Bandoka is sure the white officers are not coming through the forest?"he asked, as the bare chance of meeting them occurred to him.
"Sartin sure, massa. Dey come in boats. Bandoka he fit to paddle inwhite man's canoe. 'No, no,' he say; 'me no like dat. White man libfor go too fast; me know what dat mean; dat mean chicotte!' Den he runaway, sah."
"Well, I wish I knew a little more about the men with the stores."
"Know plenty more one time," said Lepoko, pointing ahead. "Dat amMakoko."
Makoko, a scout in a thousand, had brought just the news Jack mostdesired. He had counted the fighting men on the canoes: there were ahundred and ten with rifles and more than two hundred with spears. Oneach cargo canoe there was a rifleman--to encourage the paddlers,thought Jack. The flotilla had just started when Makoko left theriver, at least two hours after the main body had left. One whiteofficer had gone with the swift canoes, a second remained with thestores. The line of boats was headed by two large war canoes, eachcontaining twenty riflemen besides the paddlers; and two similar canoessimilarly manned brought up the rear.
It was clear to Jack that the enemy was doing everything possible tohasten progress. But the canoes were heavily laden, and the paddlershad the stream against them. Meanwhile Barney must be warned of theapproaching expedition. Jack was not anxious about the fate of thefort. Behind the walls Barney's hundred and twenty riflemen and threetimes as many spearmen could easily hold their own. The enemy'smachine gun, a deadly weapon in the open, would be of little useagainst stone walls. So, confident in Barney's ability to sit tight,Jack sent Lingombela back through the forest to give him timely noticeof the troops coming towards him by the river.
The arrangements made by the officer in charge of the convoy of stores,as reported by Makoko, were well enough adapted for progress through acountry in which the natives, even if hostile, were armed only withbows and arrows or spears. By keeping in mid-stream the canoes werepractically out of danger from the banks, and an enemy on the watercould be effectively dealt with by the leading canoes, carrying astrong force of riflemen armed with Albinis. The similar force actingas a rearguard discouraged any tendency on the part of the crews of thestore-boats to bolt down stream. And each canoe had a forest guardready with a chicotte to stimulate the paddlers' zeal.
Jack felt sure that by setting an ambush at a suitable point he couldproduce a panic among the guards and paddlers almost as effectual forhis purpose as the panic in Elbel's camp. But he had a not unnaturalshrinking from such a course. An ambuscade--concealing oneself toshoot another man down--went against the grain with him. He knew thatit was fair by all the rules of warfare, and warfare had been thrustupon him by the State troops. But he preferred if possible to attainhis end by other means, involving the minimum of bloodshed andsuffering. The scenes in Elbel's camp and in the forest were too freshin his memory for him to court a repetition of this wholesaledestruction, even of the savages who wore the uniform of King Leopold.
The disposition of the enemy's forces suggested a plan whereby his endmight be gained with little or no serious fighting. If the plan failedthere still remained the alternative of an attack in force on thelong-drawn-out line of the flotilla.
He had noticed, when coming up the river to Ilola with his uncle, that,about half a day's paddling from the flotilla's point of departure, thechannel was divided by a small island. Only on the near side was theriver navigable at this season, even by canoes; on the other side thechannel was wide but shallow, thickly beset by sandbanks. By strikingto the left and taking a short cut through the forest known to Makoko,the river bank opposite this island could be reached in two hours' hardmarching. There would still be a good margin of time to make allnecessary arrangements for carrying out his plan before the head of theconvoy came into view. The men had already had a couple of hours'rest; the worst of their fatigue after the night march was gone; therewas now no time to be lost, and Jack gave the order to move off underMakoko's lead.
Before midday the troops were halted opposite the island, alozenge-shaped eyot about a third of a mile in le
ngth and a hundredyards across, covered with rank vegetation and patched with one or twoclumps of large trees. On reaching the spot Jack left his litter tosuperintend the men's work, in spite of his stiff leg. He postedscouts in each direction, up and down the river, to guard againstsurprise, then set the men to cut a large number of tough creeperswhich abounded in the forest, and by twisting and knotting the tendrilsto make a rope about eighty yards long. While this was being done withmarvellous speed by the expert negroes, a few saplings were uprootedand lashed together to form a raft, too slight indeed for seriousnavigation, but strong enough to convey a few men at a time across theriver. When the rope was finished one end was taken across to the eyotand firmly secured to one of the large trees; the other end was leftfor the present loose. The place where the rope entered the water oneach side was carefully screened from view, and a few stones attachedto it at intervals sank it beneath the surface of the stream.
Jack directed the work untiringly, encouraging the workers with praise.
"Bravo!" he cried, when all was done. "Now we'll have some chop,Lepoko."
"Plenty hungry, massa," returned the man. "Men all want to knowsomefing, massa."
"Well, what is it?"
"Dey say: 'Lokolobolo make us do plenty fings. What for? We lib fordo anyfing for Lokolobolo; no fit to know what for.' Dat am what deysay, sah."
Jack smiled.
"Well, Lepoko, I'll tell you in confidence, and I know it won't go anyfurther. We're going to see an exhibition of swimming."
"Me no like big talk like dat," said Lepoko, looking puzzled.
"Here's little talk, then. Men no want to swim; we want to see themswim. Savvy?"
"Me know all 'bout dat, sah," cried Lepoko delighted, and he went offto tell the men, Jack smiling at their satisfaction with an explanationthat explained so little.
The whole force had a meal, keeping almost perfect silence in obedienceto an impressive order from Jack. They were concealed within theforest fringe. When the meal was finished a dozen men with rifles weresent across to hide themselves amid the vegetation on the island, andall waited with rifles ready.
Presently the scout from down stream came running up with the news thatthe leading canoes of the flotilla were approaching a bend in the riverhalf a mile below the eyot. The paddlers, who had apparently had ameal and a rest, were sending the canoes along at a good rate. Jackbade twelve of his men grasp the rope of creepers, and stand ready topull when he gave the word. There was dead silence among the troops.They heard the enemy drawing near--the songs of the paddlers, thechatter of the fighting men, occasionally a yell as the chicotte fellwith stinging force upon a paddler's back. Jack watched from his coignof vantage in the bush. There were the two war canoes as Makoko haddescribed them; in the second of them was a white officer. They passedthe eyot. Then came the store canoes, one after another, keeping aboutthe same distance apart. Jack forgot to count them, for he was beyondmeasure delighted to see in one of them the shield of the machine gun."What luck! What tremendous luck!" he thought. "Where the shield isthe gun is sure to be." The last of the store canoes passed. Then, ata little longer interval than separated the store canoes, came thefirst war canoe of the rearguard, the second about a boat's lengthbehind. Jack signed to his twelve men to be ready. Watching carefullythe point at which the rope entered the water and the point on theopposite side where it reached the eyot, he waited for the first of thewar canoes to approach the line. The nose of the vessel was within twoor three yards of the rope when he gave his men the signal.
With desperate energy the twelve sturdy negroes hauled on the rope.Jack could not have timed the movement more fortunately. As the ropebecame taut and rose to the surface it struck the bottom of the canoeabout a fourth of its length from the bow. The united pull of thetwelve men lifted the forepart of the vessel bodily from the water; thestern dipped under, and in a moment the canoe filled and its occupantswere struggling in the water.
At any other time such a feat would have provoked yells of triumph fromthe performers. It was a tribute to Jack's discipline that his menmade no other sound than a grunt of satisfaction, which must beentirely smothered by the shouts of the men in the water. And at aword from Jack they rushed at full speed down stream with the rope,holding it a few inches above the gunwale level of the last canoe, thecrew of which were frantically back-paddling to escape the mysteriousfate of the other. But the paddlers had not got into their swing whenthe rope, stretched tight between the fastening on the eyot and therunning men, overtook them. It caught them about the knees; they wereswept from the thwarts, and fell towards the opposite bank; and thesudden weight on the starboard side turned the canoe completely over.Not half a minute from the time when Jack gave the first sign the wholeof the rearguard was out of action. In mortal dread of crocodiles themen swam desperately for the banks, some on one side, some on theother; but as they landed they fell an easy prey to Jack's men, andwere promptly hauled into the forest and tied up.
But while they were still in the water the news of the disaster hadbeen communicated with marvellous rapidity from canoe to canoe, andreached the head of the flotilla and the white officer. Standing upand lifting his field glass to his eyes he could just see, over theintervening vessels, a capsized canoe, a number of men swimming in theriver, and others moving on the bank. There was no sign of the causeof the disaster. The paddlers indeed were shouting "Lokolobolo!Lokolobolo!" in accents of terror; but the name appeared to conveynothing to the lieutenant, who was disposed to attribute the upset to ahippopotamus or a snag.
Certainly it was causing a great deal of confusion in the flotilla, andsome of the paddlers, the rearguard being removed, seemed inclined toturn their canoes and head down stream. It was very annoying.Shouting to the men in the leading war canoe to paddle just enough tokeep their vessel stationary against the stream, the lieutenant hurriedto the scene of the accident. On the way the shouts of the paddlersbecame more coherent; what was this they were saying? Ilombekabasi?Absurd! But it was as well to prepare for anything that might occur,so the officer ordered his men to be ready to fire when he gave theword. At present he saw nobody to fire at.
His canoe was going rapidly on the current towards the eyot when avolley flashed from the undergrowth on the right bank, and he heard theshots strike the side of his vessel. The effect of the discharge at arange of only thirty yards was instantaneous. Jack had ordered his mento aim at or near the waterline; not a man had been hit; but thepaddlers waited for no more. With one accord they sprang overboard andswam for the nearest shore, that of the eyot. One or two of thesoldiers replied to the volley, aiming hap-hazard at the bank; the restawaited the order of their officer, who, however, was either dazed bythe unexpected attack or unwilling to waste ammunition by aimlessfiring into the bush. The boat meanwhile was drifting down the stream:a second volley bored another score of tiny holes in the thin side.The occupants were without paddlers or paddles; they had no means ofbeaching the vessel; and Jack, watching her progress, felt that it wasonly a question of minutes before, riddled like a sieve, she would haveshipped enough water to sink her. Then the occupants, officer and men,would share the fate of their comrades. He sent Makoko with twentyrifles and twice as many spearmen to the nearest point where thehapless party might be expected to land; and at the same time hedespatched a band of the same size up river to deal with the war canoe,which had by this time gone out of sight.
In a few minutes the lieutenant and his men struggled one after anotherup the bank. Those who retained their weapons were unable to use them,for they were dripping wet. Jack's men dealt with them as with theothers, leaving the white officer, however, unbound. Him they led toJack, who commiserated the crestfallen man on his unfortunate plight,and promised him excellent treatment if he made no attempt to escape.
For some time Jack's party had made no further effort to concealthemselves. The store canoes had been moving aimlessly about theriver, the paddlers not knowing whether t
o go ahead or to retreat. AtJack's bidding Lepoko now ordered them to beach their vessels,promising that Lokolobolo would protect them, and, if they pleased,would take them into his service. They obeyed with alacrity, and soonthe whole of the stores and the machine gun were in Jack's possession.He wondered why the latter had not been taken up the river with themain body, and questioning the officer, learnt that in the haste andconfusion one of the parts of the gun could not be found, and but forthe delay in searching for it he himself would have arrived an hour ormore earlier.
The capture of the convoy had been effected so quickly that Jack feltthere might still be time by a forced march to reach the fort beforethe arrival of the enemy's main column. Hastily selecting from thestores such food and other articles as he urgently needed, and takingcare to bring with him the machine gun, he made instant preparations toreturn. He placed Makoko in charge of the flotilla, with a body ofthirty riflemen and eighty spearmen, ordering him to drop down theriver half a day's paddling and await further instructions. Hearranged for a chain of messengers to keep up communication betweenMakoko and himself; then he set out with the bulk of his force forIlombekabasi, sending a scout to order the men who had gone up river tojoin him across country as soon as they had captured the only remainingcanoe.
[1] Now I am well.
Samba: A Story of the Rubber Slaves of the Congo Page 33