screamed one bird.
"Tak--tak--tak--tak!"--cried another.
"Willikin, willikin, willikin, willikin?" shrieked a third.
Then there are mournful unearthly yells and groans that would make theheart of a novice stand still with dread. He would feel convinced foulmurder was being done in the gloomy depths of the forest. [It ispossible the monkeys take their part in producing the cries one hears bynight in forests of the tropics.]
But Harry could sleep no more.
The sentries were being relieved. Raggy had just turned up, and SomaliJack was about to turn in.
"Let us take a stroll down by the camp-fire," said Harry. "I feel Imust stretch my legs, night though it be."
Together they went as far as the old camping ground, and were about toleave when a pained and weary groan fell on Harry's ear.
He soon discovered whence it issued. From the lips of a poor half-nakeddark figure, lying stabbed and dying on the grass.
All this he could see by the light of moon and stars. He sat downbeside the poor creature and took his head on his lap. The white eyesrolled up towards him, the lips were parted in a grateful smile.
One word was all he said or could say.
"What is it, Jack?" asked Harry. "Interpret, please."
"It only says thanks, sahib."
"Run for water, Raggy."
The dying slave boy drinks just one gulp of the water. Again the whiteeyes are turned towards Harry, again the lips are parted in a smile--andthen he is still.
For ever still.
Perhaps it is because Harry was nervous and ill; but he cannot prevent agush of tears to his eyes as he bends over this murdered boy.
"What a demon's heart the man must have to commit a sin like this!"
Book 3--CHAPTER SIX.
THE LAND OF DEPOPULATION--IN A BEAST-HAUNTED WILDERNESS--A MYSTERY--ASTRANGE KING.
Three months have elapsed since the night Harry found the dying slavelad on the grass, near the old camp-fire Harry is as strong now as ever.Nay, he is even stronger. He has had a birthday since then, and now inhis own mind calls himself a man.
He is a man in heart at all events, a man in pluck and a man inmanliness.
The trio--Somali Jack, Raggy, and Harry--are very friendly now.
Only once did Jack allude to that night when they fled from Mahmoud'scamp. It is in terms of admiration and in broken English.
"You give me proper trashing that night. I think I feel your shut handon my nose now. Wah-ee! he do make him smart, and my eyes all fill withwater hat hat ha!"
Yes, Jack could afford to laugh now, for Harry was not a bad master tohim.
Somali Jack is happier, and, to use his own words--
"I have one stake in de world now. I all same as one Arab, I have asoul. You, master, have said so. I believe what my master says. Ofcourse I believe what he tell me. I not all same as one koodoo--die onde hill and rot. No, I float away, away, away, past de clouds, and pastde stars to de bright land of love, where Jesu reigns. Oh yes, SomaliJack is happy and proud."
The trio are now in an unknown land.
It might be called the Land of Depopulation, for long ago the fewnatives that slavery left have died or fled away. There is hardly avestige of the remains of their villages, only here and there a kind ofclearing with what appears to be a hedge around it. But if you pulledaway the creepers on top of this you would find old rotten palisades--indication enough that those poor creatures had made some vain attemptsat defending themselves against the inroads of the Arab invader.
Harry had not long continued in the caravan route that led to the landof the drunken king. The sights he came upon every now and then whilefollowing it were sickening. It was quite evident that of the hundredslaves whom Mahmoud had chosen, at least twenty had fallen by the way,in rather less than three weeks, and been left to perish in the bush oron the grass beneath a blazing sun.
He would have followed the more southern route, and endeavour to findout the whereabouts of his fellows, but such a proceeding would havebeen absurdly impracticable. A white slave is thought worth a thousandblack at some of the courts of African kings. He could not haveredeemed his men, and to have attempted to rescue them in any other waywould have only ended in failure, and in slavery to himself andcompanions. No, there was at present no hope. But he had more than oneplan which he meant to try when a chance should occur.
For the three months past they had had plenty of sport, and a world ofadventures far too numerous to mention. Harry, however, had only a veryscant supply of ammunition, and but little likelihood of obtaining anyfurther supply. Every cartridge was therefore carefully hoarded, andonly used either for the purpose of protection against wild beasts or tosecure themselves food.
As to this latter they managed in a great measure without firing a shot.For, first and foremost, Somali Jack had a most nimble way of catchingfish. He did it by getting into shallow streams, sometimes diving inunder the water and dragging a fish out from under bank or rock where ithad sought shelter.
Then he could twine grass ropes; these were stretched along in certainlikely places, near which Jack concealed himself, spear in hand, allalert and ready. The other part of this peculiar hunt was performed byHarry and the boy Raggy. They managed, and that very successfully, as arule, to chase wild deer, of which there were so many different sortsand sizes, down towards the clever Somali. In their headlong hurry oneat least was almost sure to trip over the rope and fall. In a momentJack was up and on him, and next minute--there was something good fordinner.
I wish I could describe to you one-thousandth part of all the curiousthings Harry noticed in natural history, not only among the largeranimals, but among the smaller, namely, the birds, and among thesmallest--the creeping creatures of the earth.
I wish I could describe to you a few of the lovely scenes he witnessedin this beast-haunted wilderness: the landscapes, the cloudscapes, thelovely sunsets, the wilderies of fruit and flower, and the scenes amongthe mountains, some of which, high, high up in the air, were evensnow-capped, and ever at sunrise assumed that pearl-pink hue with purpleshadow which once witnessed can never be forgotten in life. The scenesby river and lake were also most enchanting at times.
But do not think these wanderers had it all their own way. No, theywent with their lives in their hands, and these lives were very often injeopardy.
Poor little Raggy was once tossed by a herd of buffaloes. I say a herdof buffaloes advisedly, for really they seemed nearly all to have afling at him. The last one pitched him up into a tree, where, for atime, he was an object of the most profound interest to a band ofchattering apes. They could not conceive who or what the new arrivalwas, nor where he had come from.
Well, then, Somali Jack had to climb up and shake the branch to dislodgeRaggy's apparently dead body, while Harry stood under to catch it andbreak the fall.
But Raggy was not dead. Not a bit of him; and presently he got up andscratched his poll and gazed about him like a somnambulist.
"Am de buffaloes all gone, massa?" he inquired.
"The buffaloes, Rag? Yes, and it seems to me you are made ofindiarubber; why, they played lawn tennis with you."
"Well, massa," said Raggy, "it was some fun to de buffaloes anyhow, andit not hurt Raggy much."
Another day Harry had narrowly escaped being killed by a rhinoceros.Quiet enough these animals are at times, but whatever other travellersmay say, I advise you to keep out of their track when they lose temper.
Somali Jack was one day posted behind his rope when down thundered asmall herd of giraffes. Over went number three. Out came Jack andattacked him, but, like the witch in Tam o' Shanter--
"Little wist he that beast's mettle."
One kick sent Jack flying yards and yards away; the blow alighted on hischest, and, strange to say, the blood sprang from his nose and mouth.
Jack said nobody could hit so hard as a giraffe unless his master, andhe never tried again to spear a--
>
"Roebuck run to seed."
They had now many rivers to cross and miles on miles to walk sometimesbefore they could find a ford. But the current seldom ran very strong.The worst of it was that often, even after they found the ford and gotover, there was a marsh to cross, worse than any bog in old Ireland.
Many of these marshes were infested with crocodiles. Oh, how innocentthese brutes can appear, basking in the sunshine on the banks, or lyingin shallow streams with nothing out and up except their hideous heads!
Yonder, for example, is one immense skull, not far from the bank. He isasleep, is he not? Go a little closer. He never moves. You feel surehe is good-natured, and that the crocodile is a much-libelled reptile.Go closer still and look at him. Ugly enough he is, but soinnocent-looking! You would like to smoothe him, wouldn't you, littleboy?
Snap! Where are you now? It is sincerely to be hoped that your mammahas another good little boy like you to supply your place, for _you_will never be seen
Harry Milvaine; Or, The Wanderings of a Wayward Boy Page 32