‘Ho yess, Misteh. I tellum. His friens mek plentee fire in devil town but you wantum him come from west-way.’
De Brissac nodded. ‘Bien! Off you go. Be as quick as you can but don’t take the least chance of getting caught.’
With a smile Li Foo picked up his rifle, slipped out from the cover of the rocks and disappeared into the shadows thrown by the cliff.
‘They’re are getting pretty het up now,’ said Juhani thoughtfully. ‘God, how I am hating this! Can’t we do something?’
‘I don’t want to fire on them before we’ve got to,’ De Brissac replied. ‘Once we open up, we’ll have to face the whole lot and be prepared to die, literally, with our backs to the wall. There are easily five or six hundred of them and every moment they remain dancing there means that Deveril is a few yards nearer to us.’
‘But he won’t be here for hours,’ Basil expostulated, ‘and think what the girls must be suffering in anticipation. Once the dance is over you can bet your life those devils will make straight for the compound and the women. We’ll be able to give them something to think about with this machine-gun but, even if we scatter them, we daren’t leave our position here to come out in the open. Some of them’ll murder the girls for certain before Deveril can reach us.’
‘That’s so,’ Luvia declared. ‘Once they stop their dancing we won’t have a hope in hell of getting the women out alive. We’ve got to do something—and that mighty quick.’
‘The only thing for it is to raid the Marriage House while the men are still occupied.’ Basil went on hurriedly. ‘We only saw one sentry on it and they can’t possibly have any idea that a rescue-party has set out. The sentry’s probably there only to see to it that Unity and Synolda don’t escape with the connivance of the other women. Even if there’re a couple of men on guard we ought to be able to tackle them and get inside.’
‘Sure,’ Luvia backed him up. ‘That’s the way it is and that’s what we’re going to do; but you’d best stay here, De Brissac, with the gun, and blow merry hell out of them if there’s trouble.’
‘All right,’ De Brissac agreed. ‘I would come with you willingly were it not that I shall be more use to you here. From this position I can sweep the whole village with my fire; whereas if we all went and took the gun with us it would lose three-quarters of its value. I shall not shoot until I see that your attempt has been discovered or hear it from their cries. You’re almost certain to be killed, but you’re right about it being the one hope now of saving the girls. You must hurry too—if you mean to do it—as the dance will soon be over.’
Leaving their rifles so that they should not be encumbered and taking only their cutlasses and pistols, Basil and Juhani gave De Brissac’s hand a quick clasp and slithered down among the tumbled rocks to follow the path that Li Foo had taken a few moments before. Now that they were freed from their heavy burdens and moving downhill they were able to make rapid going. The beating of the drums and stamping of the earth by the warriors drowned the noise of their footsteps so they had no need to exercise caution during the first part of their journey and were able to trot along side by side.
In five minutes they were back again in the hollow to the south-west of the compound. The solitary sentry had moved to the north-west corner of the stockade, but he was again standing motionless, leaning on his spear.
The two white men sank to their knees directly they saw him and began to crawl cautiously forward. Basil stretched out a hand and halted Juhani. ‘We’d better separate,’ he whispered, ‘and advance on him from opposite sides in the shadow of the palisade. He’s almost certain to hear one of us creeping up on him. Directly he turns to face that one, the other can rush him from behind.
‘O.K.’ muttered Juhani, and he set off to crawl in a semicircle round the solitary Negro, while Basil flattened himself out on his stomach and wriggled straight forward up to the stockade.
It was made of thick tree trunks, so closely set that it was impossible to see between them, and he judged its height to be about ten feet. Each trunk had been sharpened to an ugly point as he could see from the serrated edge against the skyline, and it looked as though it would be a stiff job of work getting over it.
But Napoleon’s phrase, ‘It is time to think of the Vistula when we are over the Rhine’, flashed into his mind. The Negro sentry must be got out of the way first.
Fortunately the moon was in the east so the high paling threw a heavy belt of shadow about two yards wide, and Basil was able to worm his way along with little fear of being seen by anyone who was not keeping a very active watch.
The Negro stood there motionless and silent, about twenty yards from the angle of the compound, staring out dreamily on to the moonlit vale; doubtless cursing his luck that he had been picked upon for this duty, while the others were feasting on the far side of the Marriage House. The wild, excited cries of the native dancers, the rhythmic stamping of their feet, and the rapid tattoo of the drums came clearly, drowning all other sounds, and enabling Basil to get to within ten yards of the sentry unobserved.
Basil saw a deeper patch of blackness that he knew must be Juhani take form at the corner beyond the man. Another yard and his knee caught a stone which clicked sharply against another. The Negro swung round and caught sight of him. He rose swiftly to his feet and drew his cutlass.
The black’s mouth opened and his white teeth gleamed; he was about to yell a warning. His spear lifted and came level with Basil’s face. Next second there was a sudden scuffling of feet and Juhani leapt upon the man’s back, locking one arm tight round his neck. They went down in a heap together.
There was a short, wild flurry of whirling arms and legs, while Basil stood there, his cutlass raised, but fearing to strike in case his blow caught Juhani.
The two figures on the ground straightened out with a jerk. The Negro gave a queer gurgle. Juhani shook himself free and stood up. ‘I’ve broken his blasted neck,’ he said in a hoarse whisper.
‘Good,’ Basil muttered. ‘Now for the fence.’
Juhani spread out his legs and put his hands against the palisade. ‘Up on my back,’ he panted. ‘Quick!’
Thrusting the cutlass into its sheath, Basil sprang on to Juhani’s broad shoulders, gripped two of the points in the stout palisade and hoisted himself up to them. Luckily the tree trunks were so large that he was able to find a perch between them with one leg on each side of the stockade.
Juhani did not wait to be pulled up. As a sailor he was an expert climber and his height helped him. In one spring he had gripped two of the points of the great stakes and next moment he was perched beside Basil. Without a word they lowered themselves to the ground on the far side.
The Marriage House was a long, low building, forming three sides of a square, and large enough to accommodate at least a couple of hundred people. Lights were burning inside it and the murmur of voices drifted out to them quite distinctly. Evidently the women were waiting there for the visit they knew that the warriors would pay them on this gala night after the dance had been completed. The compound was deserted; its emptiness broken only by a few coarse wood tables and things that appeared to be washing troughs. Very cautiously, crouching a little, Basil and Juhani crept towards the nearest building.
20
In the Marriage House
De Brissac watched the open space about the bonfires anxiously. It was nearly a quarter of an hour since his friends had left him. The dance had changed again; the warriors were now formed up thirty deep, in irregular lines, facing the fat old Negro under the canopy. In unison they were chanting some wild song of victory, stamping the earth so furiously that the dust rose in a little cloud half obscuring their lower limbs; the upper portion of their naked bodies glistened with sweat in the light of the flames.
Every few minutes the dancers surged forward, raising their weapons on high and emitting hideous howls as they charged across the open to within a few feet of their chief. They receded again some twenty paces each time, recomme
nced their chant, and stamped more furiously than ever. De Brissac knew that in a few moments now, at most, the climax would come; a last mock charge when they would halt with their weapons poised, apparently to kill, only a few inches from the watchers’ faces. Instinctively he found himself praying each time a charge was made that it would not be the last, and that the dance would continue yet a little longer, giving time, precious time, to his friends.
Inside the stockade Basil and Juhani crept forward on tiptoe. As they came nearer to the long, low building that formed one side of the open square, they saw that it was raised a few feet from the ground on piles. Every ten yards or so a rickety flight of steps led up to a doorway. Of the four that they could see clearly two were open and two shut, but both of the open ones had curtains of some coarse material hanging across them.
The two men reached the hut and crept along it to the nearest doorway. An irregular, two-inch gap showed between the bottom of the curtain and the floorboards, which were just on a level with Juhani’s chest. Reaching the steps he leant forward and, stooping, peered under the curtain. A horrible stench of greasy, unwashed human bodies was wafted out into his nostrils, but he scarcely noticed it in his eagerness to find Synolda.
From the loud murmur of sound he judged that the long building consisted of one large room although he could see only a portion of it. Its interior showed a squalor which beggared all description. There were no beds or furniture. The women lay or squatted on filthy, ragged mattresses, from which ends of straw protruded at the seams. Their colour varied from darkish brown to near-white, and they were of every age from children suckling at the breast, to women who looked forty, but might be younger.
He seemed to remember Sir Deveril saying that the Negroes strangled their concubines when they were too old for further service in order to save food. Father Jerome had reported a continual shortage after his brief visit to Satan’s Island and, from the ragged patches of ill-cultivated land Juhani had seen that night, he had already gathered that the Negroes were a lazy, thriftless tribe. Owing to the climate, which was far harsher than that of their native Africa, crops needed more attention and labour to grow, so in the bad seasons such a people would certainly suffer famine.
Some of the women were talking listlessly in low voices; others were sleeping with tattered coverlets drawn round them. As he watched, heavy footfalls sounded on the floor and an enormous, full-blooded Negress with powerful, gorilla-like arms plodded slowly down the centre of the room. In her right hand she grasped a cat-o’-nine-tails; the coffee-coloured women fell silent and shrank away as she walked by; evidently she was some sort of wardress or mistress of the house who kept the concubines in order. Juhani drew back and shook his head conveying dumbly to Basil that the girls were not there.
Easing their way along the side of the building they passed the next door, which was shut, and paused at a farther one which only had a ragged curtain across it. This time the curtain fell to the floor, but it had a large rent in it, about three feet up, and by standing on tiptoe Juhani was easily able to get another glimpse of the big room’s occupants.
Here a little group of the women showed more animation. They formed a small kneeling circle and were chattering shrilly as they played some primitive game of dice. One girl among them was of unusual beauty; a ‘high-yaller’ with blue eyes, light bronze skin, and near-gold hair. She was about nineteen and her lithe figure had just reached perfection. The greater part of it was exposed to view as, like the rest, she had little on except a soiled and ill-patched shift. The other women looked blowsy and unwholesome beside her. The hair of them all was tousled and their bodies ill-cared-for. In the ten seconds Juhani was staring at the fair girl he saw her pull down the shift from her shoulder and kill a louse.
His survey had occupied no more than a minute. They moved on more swiftly now, round the corner of the building to that which joined it with the one on the far side of the courtyard. Here again some doors were shut and others only veiled by curtains.
As they approached the nearest a scream rang out from inside the building. Basil leapt forward impulsively and, stopping, raised the curtain an inch with his finger so that he could peer beneath it. The sight he saw filled him with a fierce desire to draw his pistol and rush inside. Two more huge, full-blooded Negresses stood one on either side of a fair-skinned young girl of about seventeen. They were holding her down while a third, whose face was contorted with sadistic hate, wielded a cat-o’-nine-tails above her head.
The girl was kicking out with her bare legs but her body was held by the two great black women, as though in a vice, and a second later the nine lashes descended through the air on to her back with a sickening whistle. She let out another scream; Basil swayed forward, but Luvia, who was peering through a gap at the side of the curtain, wrenched him back. Their own women needed all the help they had to give and must come first; pushing Basil slightly he urged him on to the next doorway.
A third wail of agony came quavering through the night. Silence fell again, broken only by the wild cries of the dancing savages in the near distance, the beat of the tom-toms and the constant mutter that came from inside the evil Marriage House.
They passed two more closed doorways but the third was again covered only by a piece of tattered stuff. Basil caught the first glimpse of the interior and instantly gripped Luvia’s arm. Juhani bent and peered in, rapidly glimpsing what Basil had seen before him. Almost opposite to them Unity and Synolda were lying on one of the filthy mattresses with their backs propped against the further wall. Their faces were grimed and tear-stained. Great red semi-circles showed under the eyes of both girls from constant weeping, but they were dry-eyed now, having perhaps no more tears to shed. They were huddled together tightly clasped in each other’s arms. An awful look of despair and terror was on both their faces.
Juhani wondered why they did not endeavour to escape through the open doorway, but it occurred to him that they had probably attempted to do so and been hauled back. The reason they were not making any attempt at the moment was plain to him a second after as, shifting his position a little, he saw another of the huge Negresses squatting on her haunches only a couple of yards away with a cat-o’-nine-tails laid across her lap. Behind the Negress stood a long-limbed, coffee-coloured child who was busily engaged in picking vermin out of the hideous old woman’s tight, black curls.
Stepping softly back Juhani gave Basil another chance to look and pointed with his finger in the direction of the huge black woman. Basil gave her one glance before riveting his eyes on Unity. She moved a little at that second and he saw that the right sleeve of her dress had been completely ripped away; on her bare arm there showed three angry, red weals. The sight inflamed him to the point of madness; drawing his cutlass he wrenched aside the curtain and leapt into the room.
Red rage distorting his features, Basil swung his blade high and in one stroke almost severed the hideous head of the Negress from her obese body. Juhani, bounding after him, dashed straight over to the girls.
Next second pandemonium was loose in the long, low barrack. The halfe-caste women sprang up from their palliasses gibbering excitedly. A big Negress, who had been sitting about fifty feet down the room, gave an angry bellow and came lumbering heavily towards them, but the concubines saw their chance to revenge themselves upon their tormentors in this unprecedented invasion of their quarters. One of them tripped the Negress and the others fell upon her like a pack of wolves, tearing the flesh from her face and body in gory shreds.
In the opposite direction further sounds of strife broke out. The two wardresses who had been thrashing the young girl advanced side by side, laying about them lustily with their nine-tailed whips at the crowd of slatternly women who tried to bar their progress. A strapping young girl threw an earthen pot which caught one of the Negresses in the face and she went down with a howl of pain. Basil saw no more of the affray. He had snatched Unity up in his arms and half-lugged, half-carried her out of the vile building. Juha
ni was behind him with Synolda flung over his shoulder.
‘You all right?’ Basil gasped as he drew the clean wholesome air of the dark night thankfully into his lungs.
‘Yes,’ breathed Unity. ‘Oh, Basil! bless you!’
‘Can you run?’ he cried, hustling her along by the arm.
‘Yes, yes,’ she shouted, breaking from him and tearing towards the distant palisade as though all the devils in hell were after her.
‘Put me down, put me down,’ Synolda’s voice came from just behind them; but Juhani took no notice and raced on, his great strength being more than equal to the burden.
Suddenly it came to him that the night was changed. What was it? What had happened? A second later the truth flashed on him. For nearly three hours now the monotonous tattoo of the war-drums had been beating in their ears. They had ceased; so, too, had the war-cries of the natives.
The same thought penetrated Basil’s mind just as they reached the palisade. There was a chance that the savages would rest for a while after their exertions, or pause to eat and drink, but it was equally likely that in a few moments they would come streaming through the gates of the compound into the courtyard.
Uncharted Seas Page 30