the unfortunate man by the naked shoulderwith its fangs, and, twisting its tail round a tree, commenced to rollWalda up in its coils.
His companions dropped their burdens and rushed to his rescue.
None too soon. Yet the attack and relief both together could hardlyhave occupied more than twenty seconds. It was evident from thequickness with which Peela and Popa commenced untwisting the coils fromthe tree, that they had been actors in a scene like this before. Theyat the same time hacked at the tail with their knives.
Meanwhile Harry had run his sword-bayonet, which luckily was fixed tothe end of the rifle, through the boa constrictor's body. Its foldswere instantly released, and Walda fell forward insensible, only to bespeedily dragged away by Somali Jack.
It was time for all to run now, to escape the lashings and writhings ofthe monster. It coiled round the tree, and uncoiled again. It lay formoments dormant, then sprang high in air.
Harry now took steady aim with his rifle and shot it through the neck,close to the head, and soon after it expired.
In journeying on and on, ever towards the west, Harry and his people hadmet with many a wild beast; sometimes, indeed, they were far too closeto lions to feel quite at home with their position. Very few, however,fell to the guns, for the simplest of all reasons, they only fired whenreally obliged to.
They found themselves one day on a hill-top, overlooking a vast stretchof level country that extended towards the then setting sun as far asthe eye could reach.
In some places it seemed bare and sandy, while in others there wereclumps of forest trees, but for the most part it was treeless. Here andthere little lakes of water glittered in the sun's parting rays, andlooked like pools of blood.
It was an eerisome and ugly-looking district to cross, and Harry lookednorth and south in the hope of seeing hills which he might reach, andthus make a detour and avoid it. He consulted Walda on the subject.
But Walda shook his head.
"No, no," he said; "no way round. Must cross."
They entered on this dismal swamp early next morning.
It appeared like going down into a black and dreary ocean, and Harrycould not help a feeling of hopelessness and melancholy stealing overhim before he had walked for an hour, and the farther on he went themore gloomy and depressed in spirits did he become.
Perhaps this was the effects of breathing the tainted and unwholesomeair.
"Why am I toiling and moiling here," he asked himself peevishly, againand again, "when I might be far away and happy? This is no pleasure,"he said, half aloud; "better by far I were dead."
Then he remembered he had a duty to perform--that of endeavouring tofind out and rescue his poor men.
But was he doing it? No, he was only bent on his own pleasure andenjoyment. Enjoyment indeed! He was a fool for his pains, and a greatsinner besides. What were his parents doing all this weary time? The_Bunting_ must be home long ago. And he would have been given up forlost. They must have thought the dhow foundered at sea, or been lostamong the breakers and every one drowned. Well, then, if he was givenup for lost, the bitterness of his mother's grief must already be nearlyassuaged. What mattered a year or two more of wandering? He _would_wander. He _would_ find his men or perish in the attempt. So ran histhoughts.
And thus moodily, and half angrily, did Harry muse as he marched overthe dismal waste at the heels of his faithful guide Walda.
It was not easy walking here either; there were darksome murky pools togo round, and brown unwholesome streams to wade through.
Nothing could have been more depressing than the view around him, lookwhere he would.
As far as wild beasts were concerned, the dismal swamp was untenanted.Here were no lordly elephants, no sturdy rhinoceroses, no giraffestowering in their strength, nor deer, nor gnu, nor hartbeeste, nor theherds of swift-footed ambling zebras they had been so used to behold.
But in the great pools, and in the sluggish mud-stained streams,wallowed crocodiles more large and loathsome than Harry could haveimagined even in his dreams, while often several of these at one timecould be seen on the banks huddled together asleep or basking in thesunshine.
They walked onwards as fast as they could, hardly pausing to eat, butthere seemed no end to the horrible fen. It seemed to Harry as if hewas bound to go on, and still go on, but never come to anything.
The sun began to set at last, glaring purple through a watery-lookingsky.
There was nothing for it but sleep in the swamp till another day dawned.Harry and his men now sought the shelter of a clump of stunted treeswhich they reached after some difficulty.
While daylight lasted they were careful to beat the bush well beforethey thought of lighting the camp-fire, for close under the trees inplaces like this the giant anaconda or python often lies coiled up tillroused to fury by the presence of man or other animals.
The sun went down, and gloaming and gloom settled down over the marsh.The very stars seemed to give a feebler light than was their wont, fortheir rays were shorn by a rising haze.
It took quite a long time to-night to light the camp-fire, for thematerials had got damp.
The process of making fire is very simple to appearance, but requires nolittle skill; it is, however, common among nearly all savage nations,and my readers may, if they please, try their hands at it. Supposeyourself a savage and have another savage to assist you. Well, you arepossessed of a round piece of hard dry wood about the length but notnearly so thick as an ebony ruler, it is tapered to a point at one end.Your companion savage sits in front of you holding firmly a bit ofsofter wood, flat at the bottom for steadiness' sake, and with a littlehole in the top. Into this hole you insert the point of your hard wooddrill, then you have only to roll it rapidly back and fore between yourtwo palms, till sparks are emitted and smoke, then fanning or blowingwith your breath, and partially surrounding the hole with dried meadowgrass, or anything that will catch easily, will do the rest. If you tryit, I hope you will be successful; I myself lack two importantessentials to success--patience and dexterity.
But Jack and the guide "made fire" at last, and supper was cooked andeaten.
During the time it was being got ready Harry had taken a little walk inthe dim starlight. He did not go far, for he soon got into a miryplace. Here he almost trampled upon a gigantic eel creature--it couldhardly have been a snake--it was slowly dragging its body through theslime.
While he was looking at it there was the sound of wings in the sky rightabove him. It was a great vulture of some kind: birds of this kind arescarcely ever a mile distant from a party of African travellers, andhave the lion's share of all that is killed. The flapping of wings wasvery loud and accompanied by a rustling noise; so close overhead was itthat he could hear it breathe hoarsely--so at least he thought. Buthardly had he turned away ere the great bird swooped down, and nextmoment it had re-ascended carrying the great eel with it. Seeing thelatter, though but for a moment, wriggling in the talons of the uncleanbird was quite enough for Harry. He walked no farther that way, butspeedily returned to the camp.
The fire and his supper rendered him a shade more comfortable; hispeople went into the wood to collect dry material to make their master abed. They beat the grass first with their spears before they venturedto put their hands down, for several deadly-looking, triangular-headedsnakes had been seen before sunset, rustling through the undergrowth orhanging to the branches of the trees.
Harry lay down at last, but he slept but little. How could he in such aplace, with the horrid bellowing of crocodiles ever and anon rising onthe night air, the intervals being filled up with the continuous hoarsesnoring of some creatures in the marsh, probably gigantic frogs![Dactylathrae.]
Next morning there was no chance of proceeding so early as they hadwished, for all the swamp was enveloped in a dark grey fog or mist, andit was nearly noon before the sun had succeeded in dispelling it.
On they journeyed now, happy to be able to start at last, for Harryshuddered
to think what the consequences would be if the mist did notlift for days.
They had not gone above five miles ere a village came into view.
Harry made Raggy ask the guide why he had not mentioned the existence ofthis town.
The guide only shook his head and said--
"No good--no good."
The place was built among trees, palms there were of many strange kinds,and an undergrowth of broad-leaved plantains and gigantic featheryferns, but some of the trees were so weirdly fantastic in shape that inhis present depressed state of mind they pained Harry to look at.
The ground here was somewhat higher, but it certainly was no oasis in adesert.
If Harry expected his spirits to rise on entering this village he wassoon undeceived. It was the abode _par excellence_ of gloom and misery.
The leaf-built huts were mere kennels, the people themselves were black,naked, decrepit, and puny, and the very children were paunchy andold-looking.
Not a sign of welcome did they make, not the slightest show ofresistance;
Harry Milvaine; Or, The Wanderings of a Wayward Boy Page 36