CHAPTER V--A FRIEND IN NEED
On the previous evening, when the day's work on the plantation was overand the workers had returned to their homes, a young negro left thelarge dwelling which he shared with a number of other unmarried men, andbetook himself to the hut where Mirambo was supping with his family.
"Have you eaten already, Mwesa?" asked the old hunter.
"No. I am not hungry. He has not come back."
The lad's eyes were wide with anxiety. No one could have failed tonotice how strongly he resembled Mushota, the slightly older ladsquatting by his father's side.
"Has the Leopard come back?"
"He came back at midday. The Antelope will never come back."
"Why so, Mwesa?"
"There has been whipping to-day."
Mirambo's face clouded. There had been no whipping since the Antelope,as Tom Willoughby was known among the negroes, had come to theplantation. The Leopard was their name for Reinecke. The negro is veryshrewd, and it had not needed certain information brought by Mwesa tomake the people connect the cessation of corporal punishment with thepresence of the young stranger. That information, however, given firstto Mirambo, had spread through the whole community, and was talked offreely among themselves. But it had never reached the ears of the Araboverseers: oppression is always met by secrecy. Neither they norReinecke knew that the young negro who had marched from Bismarckburgamong the porters, and had remained a willing worker on the plantation,was not the chance recruit he had seemed to be. The stowaway of the_Hedwig von Wissmann_ had come of set purpose; and when Reineckesarcastically asked Tom whether he supposed his attractions accountedfor the boy's staying on, he had unwittingly hit upon the truth. Mwesahad stayed as a starved and beaten dog will stay with one who has beenkind to him.
Quite unaware of the interest he had excited among these simple negroes,Tom had been watched, all his movements commented on, from day to day.Whether by observation or by instinct the negroes knew that there wassome intimate connection, obscure to them, between him and theirtaskmaster. They judged that the young Englishman was an object ofrespect or fear to the German, for Mwesa had told them that he wasEnglish and that the English did not whip their workers, except perhapsin punishment for crime. The Leopard had some reason for drawing in hisclaws.
Mwesa, like others, had seen the Englishman start, unattended, with hisgun. He had done so before: those who saw him go marked the fact asthey marked all that he did, but thought no more about it--except Mwesa,who watched all day for his hero's return. He had noticed, moreover,the going and the coming of Reinecke, also with his gun; and he had beentroubled when the German returned alone, and when at sunset theEnglishman was still absent.
"The Leopard has killed," said Mirambo after an interval of gloomysilence.
Mwesa burst into tears.
When he left the hut later, after eating a bowl of manioc, he carried along sharp knife. Stealing along behind the huts, he made his way inthe darkness to a remote spot, climbed up into a tree, and disappeared.Half an hour later he crept back to Mirambo's hut, restored the knife,which the man would have to account for next day, and then returned tohis own lodging, and slipped in unperceived by his fellow inmates. Hisexit was prepared, but no negro travels willingly by night.
Next day, at the time when the negroes had their midday meal, he wasabout to make his escape from a place no longer endurable to him, whenhe caught sight of Reinecke leaving by the gate, again unattended.Mwesa looked around; no one else was in sight. He shinned up the treehe had climbed the night before. A few minutes later he was runninglike a wild animal through the scrub outside the fence. He postedhimself among the trees at a spot where he could not fail to seeReinecke as he left the gate. When the German had passed, the negrofollowed him with the stealth of one come of a long line of hunters,tracking him over the course he had pursued on the previous day, withoutrevealing himself by so much as a rustle among the leaves or the crackof a fallen twig.
As Reinecke approached the pit, no guardian spirit told him of thewatcher whose eager face was looking at him out of a frame of greenfoliage, whose keen ears pricked up as he heard his master speaking tosome one below him. When the German, his eyes alight with maligntriumph, turned to retrace his steps there was nothing to show that hehad been found out; the face had disappeared. Nor could Reineckesuspect that he was dogged back to the plantation, and that when thegate had closed upon him, a negro lad, lithe as a young antelope,bounded back to the pit, and peered anxiously into the depths.
Tom had relapsed into a state of half-consciousness. He was roused by avoice, and looking up, saw a black shiny face gazing down upon him. Tworows of white teeth parted, two big eyes danced with delight when theysaw the white man glance upward.
"Sah, sah!" called the voice.
"Who are you?" Tom murmured faintly.
"Me Mwesa, sah; me come back bimeby, you see."
The lad ran back into the forest. Tom lay as in a dream. Who was thisnegro that spoke negro's English, and had called him "sah"? He hadnever heard any of Reinecke's slaves use English, yet what negro inthese parts could be other than one of Reinecke's slaves? Where had theboy gone? What was he going to do? Tom felt almost too weak andlistless even to hope.
After what seemed a very long time the negro came back, carrying a longgreen rope which he had plaited from strands of creepers. His facebeamed with excitement and joy. Making one end of the rope fast to asapling that grew near the edge of the pit, he threw the other end downand laughed when he saw that a long coil lay at the bottom. Then heswarmed down until he stood over Tom, and exclaimed:
"Sah climb; all right now."
"Who are you?" Tom asked again.
"Me Mwesa. No talk now: talk bimeby. Dis bad place."
But climbing was easier said than done. Tom was amazed to find how weakhe was after only twenty-four hours' confinement in the pit. "Have I solittle staying power?" he thought. But twenty-four hours in heat andsqualor, without food or water, with a wounded leg and a sprained ankle,and a mind racked with anxiety and foreboding, would have put a tax onthe strongest.
He found himself unable to climb. Whereupon Mwesa knotted the ropeabout his waist, swarmed up the rope again, and hauled until sweatpoured from his body. As soon as Tom was safely over the brink, the ladlet himself down once more into the pit, and returned with Tom's rifleand a couple of the sharpened stakes.
"Come 'long, sah," he said: "me find place."
Tom allowed himself to be helped along, asking no questions, content forthe present to have regained freedom after the horrors of the pasttwenty-four hours. Mwesa led him along the old native track, in theopposite direction from the plantation. Presently they came to a brooktumbling over rocks. Here he bathed his aching limbs and drank deepdraughts.
"Where are you taking me?" he asked.
"No savvy, sah: all right bimeby," replied the boy.
They started again. Mwesa kept carefully to the track, tracing itunerringly even where it was almost obliterated. The forest was thickall round, and Tom, at another time, might have felt uneasy at thisapparently aimless wandering. Now, however, one way was as good asanother, so long as it did not lead back to the plantation.
Mwesa had no doubt guessed that the track would sooner or later lead toa clearing. After more than an hour's painful walk, Tom found himselfat the edge of what had once been an open space, but was now an expansecovered with scrub and forest trees of recent growth.
"Stay dis place, sah," said the negro.
Tom was ready to stay anywhere. He sank down on the ground, and lay,resting and watching the further proceedings of his rescuer. The ladcut down a number of young pliable branches, trimmed them to the samelength, and stuck them into the ground in a circle, at equal intervalsapart, bending them at the top until all met. Then he wound long grassesand tendrils of creepers in and out around the whole circumference,until in a surprisingly short space of time he had fashioned a rough andready circ
ular hut at the corner of the clearing, which was almostcompletely hidden by rank growths of vegetation. He smiled with pridein his handiwork when he invited Tom to enter.
"Come back bimeby," he cried, and darted away into the forest. When hereturned he brought a wild gourd full of water and a handful of berries.
"No can get nuffin else," he said deprecatingly.
"They will do very well," said Tom, who indeed could have eaten sawdustafter his long fast. "Now tell me who you are, and how you found me,and why you are helping me."
The smile that spread over the lad's face awoke in Tom a dormant memory.Surely this was the boy who had rushed so eagerly to pick up hismatch-box a day or two after he had reached the plantation.
"Sah sabe Mwesa, Mwesa sabe sah," said the negro, happily.
"Save! What do you mean?"
"On boat, sah: German man kick, say frow me in water: sah pay cash, allright all same."
"Oh!" exclaimed Tom, feeling a touch of embarrassment. That littleunconsidered act of kindness had surely not won such devotion as tobring the boy into slavery for his sake? "Tell me about yourself," hesaid.
The negro's story, told in his strange English, took a long time in thetelling, so roundabout was the course of the narrative, so much brokenby explanations and cumbered by trifling details. But the gist of it, asunderstood by Tom, was as follows--
Mwesa was the son of Miluma, once a notable chief of the Wahehe, and oneof those who had sustained for a long time the resistance of his peopleto the Germans. At length he had fallen into the enemy's hands, and hadbeen among the first batch of labourers who had cleared the ground forReinecke's plantation. Miluma's wife and two of his children had diedunder their hardships, and the chief, left with Mwesa alone, had fledwith the boy, and, more lucky than other negroes, had neither beenrecaptured nor killed in the forest. He had fallen in with an Englishtrader, with whom he had taken service, accompanying him in his journeysthrough the country of the Great Lakes, and living at other times amonghis native household at Zanzibar. Mwesa, only a few years old at theperiod of the escape, had at first remained in Zanzibar during hisfather's absence, but at the age of twelve he, too, had travelled withthe Englishman's caravan, and had picked up a smattering of English aswell as of the dialects of the tribes through whose countries he hadpassed.
Then his father died, the Englishman returned to Europe, and Mwesa, nowseventeen, was left alone in the world. Having a little money in hispossession, he bethought him of his uncle Mirambo, whose large familyhad prevented him from escaping at the same time as Miluma, and of whomhis father had often spoken. He would return to the plantation, see ifhis uncle were yet alive, and perhaps help him, or any of his family whowere still living, to escape with him to British territory. He tookpassage in a dhow that was sailing down the lake, but the vessel hadbeen blown ashore, and the shipwrecked crew and passengers robbed of allthey possessed by predatory natives. Mwesa and one other had got away,and after an adventurous journey had arrived at Ujiji. Learning therethat a steamer was expected at Kigoma, Mwesa had made his way to theport and smuggled himself on board.
On arriving at Bismarckburg he had found that the young Englishman whohad befriended him on board the vessel was going to the plantation whichwas his own goal, and had at once sought employment among the porters.It seemed to him that the presence of an Englishman was a good auguryfor the success of his mission. He had remained at the plantation,always on the watch; and it was not long before he suspected thatReinecke had a grudge against his benefactor. Slight signs that mighthave escaped the notice of anybody who had not a personal interest inthe Englishman had betrayed to him and to Mirambo the real feelings ofthe German; and Mwesa had now a double motive: the rescue of his uncleand the care of the white man. For the sake of the latter uncle andnephew had concealed their relationship, awaiting the day when, as theyexpected, the Englishman would leave. On that day they, too, would go.But the crisis had come in an unforeseen manner. The disappearance ofthe Englishman and Reinecke's strange movements had intensified theirsuspicions, and Mwesa had stolen out to discover what the German haddone with his guest.
Tom thanked the boy warmly for what he had done for him. He was a gooddeal troubled in mind, and passed many hours of the night in that grasshut in anxious meditation on his position. Mwesa had rescued him from alingering death, but to what end? If it was true, as Reinecke had said,that Britain was at war with Germany, that already a German expeditionagainst Rhodesia was in preparation, the immediate future was veryblack. He dared not go to Bismarckburg; the nearest British territorywas forty or fifty miles away; how was it possible to accomplish so longa journey through difficult country and hostile people? At present,indeed, his injuries precluded even a much shorter journey. Until heshould have fully recovered he must remain in hiding. How was he tosubsist? There was game in the forest, no doubt plenty of vegetablefood in the shape of berries and nuts, though only a native coulddistinguish the edible from the poisonous. Mwesa would help him--butMwesa was himself a complication. Tom felt that, the boy having done somuch for him, he was bound to consider the boy, and Mirambo; his lotseemed to be knit with theirs. It would not be just to appropriateMwesa, and leave his relatives in the slavery from which the boy hadcome to deliver them. Yet how helpless he was to do anything either forthem or for himself!
He fell asleep with these problems all unsolved. When he awoke the boywas gone. Tom supposed that he was seeking food, but as time slippedaway and Mwesa did not return he grew uneasy. Then, however, commonsense asserted itself. The boy who had already dared so much, who hadbuilt him a hut and brought him food, would not desert him. There mustbe some good reason for his absence.
A little after mid-day Mwesa came back, looking more pleased withhimself than ever. A rabbit dangled from his waist; slung over oneshoulder was a native grass bag stuffed with cassava; in one hand hecarried an axe, in the other a sporting rifle, which Tom recognised asthe property of Reinecke. Mwesa threw his load down, and emptying hisbag, revealed, under the cassava roots, a number of cartridges. Hechuckled with delight.
"You have been back to the plantation?" said Tom.
"Yes, sah: me go back; nobody see."
He went on to explain that there were strange doings at the plantation.Reinecke had called the negroes about him, and told them that war hadbroken out between England and Germany; that the Germans were going toseize all the English lands in Africa; that he himself was a greatofficer in the German army, and had been ordered to turn everyable-bodied man into a soldier. The gathering of the crops beingfinished, such work as was necessary on the plantation must be done bythe women and the older men. He was going to Bismarckburg to arrangefor supplies of arms. During his absence the overseers would exercisethe men.
Taking advantage of the excitement that followed this announcement,Mwesa had managed to possess himself of the articles with which he hadcome laden.
"Me now sah him boy," he said gleefully.
Tom looked at him with a ruminating eye. It was well to have a companionin this forest solitude, and he felt instinctively that Mwesa's fidelitymight be relied on. But was he entitled to involve the boy in his ownmisfortunes, or to separate him from his new-found relatives? Hereflected that the boy would be useful to him in helping him to find hisway into British territory; and when Mwesa emphatically assured him thathe was determined not to go back to the plantation, or to be drilled tofight against the English, he made up his mind to accept the servicethus volunteered.
"Very well, Mwesa," he said, "you are my boy. Whatever comes, we willshare it."
Mwesa was already skinning the rabbit, and Tom having a box of matches,the boy kindled a fire and prepared to cook a meal for his new master.Meanwhile Tom took earnest thought for their future. Until he hadrecovered from his injuries it would be hopeless to attempt to reachAbercorn; but it struck him that to remain in his present position, onlya few miles from the plantation, might be dangerous. Reinecke mightrevisit the pit, a
nd finding it no longer tenanted, would almostcertainly hunt for him in the neighbourhood. It was necessary to find asecure refuge where he could rest until he was able to undertake thejourney. Almost as soon as the idea occurred to him, he remembered thathe had passed this way with Reinecke and Goltermann, on the day when hehad first made distant acquaintance with crocodiles. The nullah and thelake in the hills lay a few miles to the east. The former, with itswindings, its overhanging rocks, its patches of dense scrub, wouldfurnish a safe hiding-place. Game was plentiful in the adjacent forest;the lake would be an unfailing water supply; and though he would have toguard against falling a prey to the reptiles that infested its shores,Mwesa's knowledge of their ways would no doubt serve him well. Theneighbourhood was wholly uninhabited, and it was so far from theplantation that Reinecke and his people were unlikely to visit it.
Could he find it? Having gone there only once, before he had had anyexperience of forest travel, he knew that unassisted he would have beencompletely at a loss. But he hoped that Mwesa would discover the trackleading to it, and when, as he ate his dinner of roast rabbit, hementioned the matter to the negro, the latter instantly started up andran off in the direction Tom pointed out. In twenty minutes he wasback, and declared with his invariable smile that he had found thetrack. He proceeded to dismantle the hut and to obliterate the tracesof the fire; then, loading himself with their few possessions, he beggedTom to lean on him and make for their new home at once.
Tom limped along, anxious to reach the nullah before night. On the wayMwesa told him more about the morning's scene at the plantation.Reinecke had boasted that the English were to be driven into the sea.All their possessions would become the booty of the Germans, and theWahehe, if they served him faithfully, should share in it. They hadonce been great warriors; now they would learn how to be askaris, andunder German leadership do great deeds and amass great riches. Thenegroes had listened to him in silence; and only when he had left themdid their sullen discontent find expression. They remembered that theyhad always fought against the Germans, not for them; and some of theelder men said they would rather fight against them again. But therewas no open revolt; cowed by years of oppression, devoid of leadership,they could only accept their destiny.
With great difficulty Tom managed to drag himself along for two or threemiles; then he declared that he could go no farther. It was alreadylate in the afternoon. Mwesa at once constructed a temporary hut, andthere they passed the night.
Next morning, after again covering their tracks as completely aspossible, they set off again. Even with Mwesa's support, Tom could onlycrawl along at the rate of little more than a mile an hour. The almostdisused hunter's path was sometimes hard to find: here and there it wasovergrown with thorns through which Mwesa had to cleave a way; and inthe middle hours of the day the humid heat was so oppressive that Tomhad to take long rests. Towards evening, however, they came suddenlyupon a dip in the ground which Tom thought he recognised.
"Run ahead," he said to Mwesa, "and see if the nullah is in thatdirection."
The boy sprinted away, returning in a few minutes.
"All right, sah!" he cried. "All right ober dah."
They went on. Emerging from the forest, they crossed an expanse ofscrub and came to the mouth of the nullah, which was like a deep cuttingin the hills. A thin stream trickled down the middle: Tom could notdoubt that the lake must be only a few hundred yards farther, and, inspite of his fatigue, he struggled on to make sure that he had reachedhis destination. There at last was the lake, still, not a breath of airbending the rushes on its banks, or stirring the trees on the island inthe centre.
Mwesa had just time to rig up a slight shelter of branches near themargin of the lake before darkness fell. He cooked some manioc for Tomand himself; and when Tom sank into heavy sleep, the boy kept watch allnight by the fire.
In the grey light of dawn, when Mwesa also was asleep, Tom was awakenedby a rustling at the entrance of the rude hut, across which Mwesa hadthrown a rough barrier of thorns as a defence against a chance marauder.Starting up on his elbow, he saw dimly some dark shape apparently edgingits way between the lower part of the barrier and the ground. For amoment or two he was unable to distinguish what it was; then he gave asudden shout, seized the shot-gun which lay by his side, sprang to hisfeet and fired.
Awakened by his shout, Mwesa had jumped up and come to his master'sside. There was a violent commotion in the thorny barrier. Next momentthe slight hut collapsed, and both occupants were half buried by theboughs. Extricating themselves from the tangle, they peered out at theinterlaced branches of thorn. Nothing was to be seen.
"Wat dat noise, sah?" whispered Mwesa.
"I think I saw the snout of a crocodile," replied Tom.
Mwesa clicked in his throat, caught up his axe, and rushed out. But thecrocodile had disappeared.
"He berry much 'fraid, sah," said the boy, when he came back. "Gun makehim berry sick. He go tell no come dis way no more: oh no!"
Tom Willoughby's Scouts: A Story of the War in German East Africa Page 5