Tom Willoughby's Scouts: A Story of the War in German East Africa

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER II--PARTNERS

  Tom Willoughby's first impression of Curt Reinecke had an element ofsurprise. Conspicuous on the landing-stage at Bismarckburg was a thinwiry man of middle height, clad in the loose white garments affected byplanters, with a large white linen hat, its brim turned downhelmet-wise. The coppery hue of his face was accentuated by a hugewhite moustache, which projected at least two inches beyond the outlinesof his shaven cheeks. He might have passed for a South Americanpresident.

  "That's Reinecke," said Mr. Barkworth, as he stepped on to the gangwayin advance of Tom. "Hasn't altered a jot. His moustache was whitetwenty years ago; and he was as bald as a bladder. Good-bye, my lad: wemay meet again: we may not: God bless you!"

  Mr. Barkworth had already explained that, as the _Hedwig von Wissmann_would remain two or three days at Bismarckburg to unload, he was goingto complete his journey to Kitata in Rhodesia by sailing boat. Theyshook hands cordially and parted.

  It was impossible for Reinecke to mistake the lad he had come to meet.Among the passengers who landed there was none so young as Tom, no otherwho bore the stamp of Englishman. Reinecke came up to him with a smile,lifted his hat, revealing for an instant his smooth pink crown, andsaid--

  "Mr. Villoughby, vizout doubt. A tousand hearty velcomes."

  "How d'you do, Mr. Reinecke?" responded Tom. "Glad to meet you."

  "Ve shall go to ze hotel for to-day; I shall see to your baggage.To-morrow ve go to ze plantation. Zat zhentleman you part viz--I zink Iknow his look, but his name--no, I do not remember: it is--no, it villnot come."

  "Barkworth."

  "Ach! So! Barkvorce. Yes, of course, of course; I remember: it islong ago----"

  He stopped abruptly, and gazed after the broad shambling figure with alook that Tom could not fathom. Then he turned to Tom again, begged himto excuse his absence for a moment, and went up the gangway on to thesteamer. Returning after a minute or two, he explained that he hadarranged for Tom's baggage to be sent to the hotel, and had invitedCaptain Goltermann to visit the plantation while the vessel remained inharbour.

  "I can gif you good shootings," he said, smiling again. "You Englishare all good sports, eh? And my friend ze captain also is expert viz zegun."

  Tom felt that he had nothing to complain of in the warmth of hisreception, and glowed with anticipation of diversifying his businessinquiries with sport of a kind new to him.

  He learnt that the plantation lay at a distance of about twenty milesfrom the lake-side, on the Tanganyika Plateau, and could only be reachedby a rough path over the hills, impassable for wheeled traffic. But hewould not be expected to walk. The journey would be done by _machila_,which turned out to be a light canvas litter slung on a pole and borneby two strapping natives. Reinecke had brought three pairs of porters,in addition to a dozen who would convey certain bales of stores whichhad come by the steamer. It was thus a large party that left early nextmorning, the three white men in their litters going ahead, the portersfollowing at some distance under the charge of an Arab overseer armedwith a long whip.

  Within half an hour of leaving the port the path entered hilly country,much overgrown with forest vegetation. The air was still, hot andhumid, and Tom, though this novel means of locomotion, over roughground, had its discomforts, reflected that he would have been stillmore uncomfortable had he walked. Innumerable insects buzzed around,seeking to pierce the protective curtains that enclosed him. Throughthe meshes of the muslin he saw gigantic ferns, revelling in the moistshade of huge trees, festooned with lianas and rattan. He heard monkeyschattering overhead, the soft notes of doves and the shriller cries ofpartridges and guinea-fowl; and but for the teeming insects he wouldhave liked to spring from his litter and go afoot, where every yardbrought some new beauty, some novel form of life, to view. After threehours the caravan halted, for the purpose of refreshing the Europeanswith cool lager beer from bottles carried in ice-packs by one of thenatives. It was drawing towards evening when they arrived at a clearingbeyond which there was a dense and impenetrable thorn hedge about eightfeet high. The path led to a wooden gate set in the midst of the hedge.This Reinecke opened with a key, and he stood back with a smile and abow as he invited Tom, now on his feet, to enter.

  "Zis is our estate," he said. "Vunce more I bid you tousand velcomes,and I vish your visit bring us good luck."

  "Thanks very much," said Tom, noticing at the same time that Reinecke'seyes were fixed on the peculiarly stolid face of Captain Goltermann.

  "Yes, viz better luck you shall be rich man in a few years, Mr.Villoughby," said the captain. "Zere is no man zat knows like my friendReinecke ze--ze----"

  "Ze ups and downs of coffee," suggested Reinecke. "A good season--yes,zere shall be zree or four tousand kilos ze acre; but a bad season--ah!disease come--who can stop it? Vat physician haf ve for ze cure?Zen--ah! it break ze heart."

  Tom looked about him with interest. As far as he could see, extendedrow on row of coffee plants in straight lines about six feet apart.Between them, at the same interval, were dug shallow pits some eighteeninches deep. He had arrived just at the time when the fruit was ripe,and a number of negroes were busily picking it from the bushes. Hereand there among them stood tall Arab overseers, all armed with whips.

  Presently the party came to a couple of machines resembling ciderpresses, which Reinecke explained were pulpers for separating the beansfrom the reddish pulp that covered them. Then they passed two largebrick vats, in one of which the beans were fermented, in the otherwashed and dried. Beyond these were sheds where the coffee, now readyfor market, was stored and packed. And then, in a separate clearing,laid out like a European garden, they came to Reinecke's bungalow, abrightly painted structure of wood, with a long verandah and a thatchedroof. A table was laid on the verandah, and a few minutes after hisarrival Tom was seated with his host and his fellow-guest at a meal,prepared and served by native servants, which reminded him, with adifference, of the meals he had known the year before, when his fatherhad sent him to Germany.

  Finding that Tom understood German, Reinecke conversed in that language,dropping into English now and then to explain technical terms. Herelated to his interested guests the story of the plantation: how theland was first cleared by cutting down the timber and uprooting thebush: how this was burnt and the ashes mixed with the soil: the monthsof hoeing: the sowings in the seed beds: the planting out of theseedlings in November, when the rains began: and the tedious threeyears' waiting before the young plants started to bear. Those threeyears he had utilised by planting a thorn fence about the whole clearingof some hundreds of acres. Tom supposed that this fence had beenerected to keep out wild beasts, for depredations by human marauderswere not to be feared in a district where German authority wasestablished. Reinecke assented; but Tom was to discover before manydays were past that the fence had another, even a sinister purpose.

  The next two days were spent very agreeably in shooting expeditions intothe wild country beyond the plantation. Captain Goltermann turned outto be a crack shot, and the greater number of the antelopes andbuffaloes which the sportsmen brought down fell to his gun. Tom was allanxiety to get a shot at a lion or even an elephant, which Reinecke toldhim were to be found in parts of the Plateau; but the Germans wereindisposed to take the long journeys that were necessary to reach thehabitats of these more dangerous game: Goltermann's visit was to be onlya short one.

  One trifling incident of these days was to have an important bearing onTom's fortunes. Captain Goltermann had shot an antelope, but, with lessthan his usual skill or luck, had only wounded it. Determined not tolose his prey, he followed, accompanied by the others, over a stretch ofhilly country, dotted with bush, tracking the animal by its blood-stainsinto a deep nullah through which a stream flowed. The sportsmen caughtsight of it at last, drinking at the border of a lake, the source of thestream. Goltermann had just raised his gun to give the _coup de grace_when the antelope suddenly sank into the water and appeared no more.r />
  "We have provided a meal for a crocodile," said the captain with ashrug. "The slimy sneaking reptile!"

  "It was bad luck for you, Goltermann," said Reinecke. "The beast washopelessly trapped; there's no exit from this end of the nullah. Ourlong tramp for nothing!"

  Naturally, it was not until the captain had left that Tom broached thebusiness that had brought him from England.

  "Now that we have come into my father's property," he said on the thirdmorning at breakfast, "my brother and I thought it just as well that Ishould take a trip out and see things on the spot. He explained that inhis letter."

  "Naturally," said Reinecke. "It is what I should have done myself."

  "Of course," Tom went on, "I've only had a year's business training--inGermany, by the way: and I know nothing whatever about coffee: but Iknow two and two make four, and I'm sure if you'll be good enough to gointo things with me, I'll soon get the hang of them. If the plantationcan't be made to pay, there's only one way out--sacrifice our interest.On the other hand, if there's a chance of success, I thought perhaps Imight stay on here and become a planter myself: it's a life I think Ishould take to."

  "Excellent," said Reinecke. "I am very glad you have come. And if youcan suggest some means of making the place pay--well, need I say I shallbe delighted. What with poor crops and low prices, and the heavy costsof carriage, it is difficult to wring from it even the small, and Iconfess unsatisfactory margin which I have been able to show since theplants came into bearing."

  It crossed Tom's mind that this pessimistic attitude was hard to squarewith Captain Goltermann's enthusiastic praise of Reinecke, and hisremarks on the valuable cargoes that he had carried; but he rememberedMr. Barkworth's advice to "go carefully," to "keep an open mind," and atpresent he had no material on which to form a judgment. Nor could heyet decide how to estimate Reinecke. The German had been cordialityitself. He had left nothing undone for his guest's comfort; his mannerhad every appearance of frankness; yet Tom was conscious in himself ofan instinctive reserve, a something undefined that held him back fromcomplete confidence.

  "You will see the books, of course," said Reinecke, rising to unlock hisdesk. "They are kept in German, but after your year's training inGermany that will be no difficulty to you. Here they are: the stockbook, the cost book, the ledger: on this file you will find the vouchersfor the quantities of beans we have shipped from Bismarckburg. My clerkis very methodical: he is a nigger, but trained in Germany, and inspirit a true German: you will find all in order. I will leave you toexamine them at your leisure, and anything you want explained--why, ofcourse I shall be delighted."

  Tom spent the rest of the morning in digesting the figures that Reineckehad placed before him. It was a task that went against the grain; hehated anything that savoured of the part of inquisitor; but he reflectedthat it was purely a matter of business, and being thorough in whateverhe undertook he bent his mind to the distasteful job, resolved to get itover as quickly as possible.

  As Reinecke had said, everything was in order. There were records of thetotal quantity of beans produced; he compared the vouchers for theconsignments with the entries in the stock book, and found that theytallied. The other books gave him the costs of production, whichincluded wages, provisions, upkeep of buildings and so on; duplicates ofthe invoices dispatched with the goods to a firm in Hamburg; records ofbills of exchange received in payment, and the hundred and one detailsincident to an export business. Balance sheets had, of course, beensent to his father: here was the material on which those sheets werebased, and everything confirmed the position as he already knew it: thatthe plantation did little more than pay the not inconsiderable salarywhich Reinecke drew as manager. His and the Willoughbys' shares of theprofits were minute.

  Tom could only conclude that Captain Goltermann, knowing nothing of thedetails of management, had drawn erroneous conclusions from the factswithin his knowledge. His vessel conveyed a certain number of bags upthe lake at certain seasons: that was all. It was easy for a seaman tomake mistakes in such a matter. If so, then, what was wrong? Were thecosts too high in proportion to the out-turn? Was the acreage undercultivation too small? Was there something faulty in the methodsemployed? Tom felt that these questions carried him beyond his depth.Would it not have been better to send an expert to make the necessaryinvestigations? That might still have to be done: meanwhile here he was;he must learn what he could, spend a few months in getting a grip ofthings, keep Bob at home informed, and then go back and consult withhim.

  When Reinecke returned to lunch, Tom complimented him on the perfectorder in which his books were kept, and frankly told him the conclusionto which he had come.

  "That means that I must trespass on your hospitality for some months, atany rate," he added. "I shall see the results from this season's crops,your preparations for next, and fresh sowings, I suppose. Of course Ican't expect to learn in a few months what has taken you years."

  "That is so," said the German, and Tom fancied that there was a shadeless cordiality in his manner, which was perhaps not to be wondered atin view of the prospect of having a stranger quartered on him for anindefinite period. "Still," Reinecke went on, "it is with knowledge aswith wealth. The heir inherits thousands which his father haslaboriously amassed; the pupil enjoys the fruits of his master's longand concentrated study. I think you will be an apt pupil."

  He said this with so pleasant a smile that Tom dismissed his feeling ofa moment before as unwarranted, and reflected that Reinecke was reallytaking things with a very good grace.

  Next day he accompanied Reinecke to the outlying quarter of the estatewhere the workers were lodged in huts and sheds constructed bythemselves. They were shut off from the outer world by the ring fence,which consisted of quick-growing thorn bushes so closely matted as toform a practically impenetrable barrier many feet thick. There weremore than a hundred adult negroes, men and women, employed on theplantation. A number of children playing in front of the huts stoppedand clustered together in silent groups when the two white men appeared.

  "I suppose the workers get a holiday sometimes?" said Tom, whoseschooldays were only eighteen months behind him.

  "Of course," said Reinecke. "There are slack times, in the early partof the season between the hoeings, when there is little to be done."

  "But I mean, they go away sometimes?"

  "Why should they? Where should they go? There is only the forest, andthe port. They would be eaten in the forest; they would eat up theport." Reinecke laughed at his joke.

  "Then they are practically prisoners?"

  "My dear Mr. Willoughby, this is Africa. In Europe you put fences roundyour cattle: the negroes are just cattle. Break your fences, and youranimals stray and are lost. So with the niggers."

  "But that is slavery."

  "Words! words!" said Reinecke lightly. "They are no more slaves than theapprentices who are bound to their masters for a term of years. Theyare indentured labourers. They are paid; and there's not a man amongthem but accumulates enough to make him rich when his time is up."

  "They can go to their homes, then, when their time is up?"

  Reinecke shrugged.

  "As they please," he said. "They have a long way to go. See, Mr.Willoughby, I give you a page from German colonial history. Twentyyears ago, in our early days, our brave pioneers of empire had enormousdifficulties to contend with. There was one savage tribe, the Wahehesome two hundred miles north of us here, that resisted our civilisingmission with especial pertinacity and violence. On August 17, '91, theygained a victory over our much-tried soldiers. They dispersed as weapproached, but when the column of Captain von Zelewski was passingthrough a rugged and densely-grown country it was attacked along itswhole length by thousands of the treacherous dogs. Zelewski was amongthe first to fall; taken at a disadvantage his column was almostannihilated. Ten Germans, sir--ten Germans, I say, as well as overthree hundred askaris and porters, were slain. The gallant Lieutenantvon T
ettenborn fought his way back with a few survivors to Kondoa, andthence reached the coast."

  "We've had many incidents of that sort in India and elsewhere," saidTom. "I suppose there was a punitive expedition?"

  "There was, sir; but not until three years had passed. For three yearsthose treacherous swine were allowed to flout the German might. Then,in October '94, we captured and destroyed Iringa, their principalvillage, and were again attacked in the woods on our way to the coast.Some of the petty chiefs held out against us for years, but the Germandestructive sword is very sure. Finally they were terribly subdued, andsome hundreds of them were transported into this Tanganyika country andcompelled to earn their living by peaceful toil. My people here areWahehe. I have one of the very chiefs who opposed us--one Mirambo, agreat hunter in his youth. I need not say that I find his woodcraftvery useful when I go hunting. By the way, he carried CaptainGoltermann's gun the other day. And now you see, Mr. Willoughby, howwell off these people are. They might have been treated as rebels; theymight have suffered as prisoners of war. Instead, they are indenturedlabourers, engaged, for pay, in producing a useful commodity--with noprofit to their employers, mark you. My dear sir, it is philanthropy."

  Tom did not venture to say what he thought. In these early days it wasuseless to enter into a dispute with Reinecke. But to his British wayof thinking the condition of the labourers was simply slavery, howeverthe German might seek to disguise it, and he would make it his businessto find out for himself the natives' point of view. If they werecontented with their lot, it would be folly to disturb them. But ifnot--and he remembered the whips he had seen in the overseers' hands--anew system must be introduced, with or without Reinecke's consent.