The Message

by Louis Tracy

  CHAPTER XV

  WHEREIN ONE SURPRISE BEGETS MANY

  Colville leaped ashore. Without appearing to hurry, he was quickly byHume's side and asking in an undertone:

  "Why has this war-drumming started? I heard it an hour ago down stream.Our engine was not running well, so the men got the paddles to work andwe cracked on at top speed."

  "I do not know," said the missionary, who was more anxious at themoment to reassure the women than to answer questions.

  "But is there any bush fighting going on? Everything was reported to beall right when I left Ibi."

  "May heaven be praised that you were prompted to visit us! My wife,Miss Dane, our interpreter and myself--four out of two hundred--aloneremain in the mission. Some of our people stole the canoe and made off,and every other native in the compound has gone into the bush. When weheard your paddles just now we thought that the war canoes of the Kingof Oku were approaching. But please come with me to the house. The meresight of your uniform will show the ladies that our danger is at anend."

  Colville was young, but he was old in experience. He had also learnedthe exceeding wisdom of repressing opinions that were not called for.

  "Wait a few seconds," he said. "Here is Lord Fairholme. But for hisurgent wish to visit Miss Dane, we should not have been in Kadanato-night. Hello! Who the dev--what canoe is that?"

  Even while he was speaking, another craft shot out from the dense layerof mist that hid the surface of the river. Though the trees on theopposite bank were clearly visible in the ever-spreading moonlight,the Benu? itself was invisible. A Hausa sergeant challenged from thelaunch, and the reply came in his own tongue. A small native boat,propelled by two paddles, grated on a strip of shingle, and an Arab anda negro stepped ashore.

  By this time, Fairholme had joined Colville and had been introducedto Hume. The Arab, hardly waiting an instant for a response to a curtinquiry, stalked towards them. He was a tall man, gaunt but wiry, andhe carried himself with the listless air of one barely convalescentafter a severe illness.

  But there was no trace of listlessness in his voice. He singled outColville immediately as the officer in charge of the party, andaddressed him in the Hausa language.

  "You would better bring your men ashore, run the launch as far up thebank as possible, and barricade yourself in the strongest buildingavailable," he said. "The men of Oku are out. Three of their warcanoes are stationed at the bend in the river and their occupants arearmed with Mannlicher rifles. Escape that way is impossible. Your onlychance is to hold this post as long as Allah permits. I shall try topass the blockading canoes and reach Ibi, though I fear it will be toolate."

  Colville hardly knew at which he was most amazed, the commanding toneof this haggard son of the desert or the astounding news he brought.

  "Say, then, hadji," he cried, half ironically, "What plague has brokenout in Oku that the whole line of the Benu? should be threatened."

  "The chief plague is that of blindness among officers who fail to seethe pits dug for them by crafty natives," was the stern answer. "Ispeak truly, young master. You have half an hour, at best an hour, inwhich to make preparations."

  "But these war canoes you speak of--they are not at the bend; I havejust come up stream."

  "They passed but now. You did not see them for the mist. I accompaniedthem."

  "Why did I not hear them?"

  "They drifted down quietly lest they should arouse the mission."

  "And yet you came here? Why?"

  "To warn the mission people. Hurry, I pray you, and waste no time inuseless talk."

  "Oh, I say, Colville," broke in Fairholme who understood no word ofthis dialogue and wondered why the English officer should permit anArab to detain him, "can't Mr. Hume take me to Miss Dane? If she is assick of this rotten river as I am she'll be jolly glad to see me."

  "Certainly," said Colville. "I shall follow you soon. This chap seemsto be able to explain matters, so I must remain here a few minutes."

  Hume, eager to get away, led Fairholme in the direction of the house.The young soldier felt a strong hand grasp his shoulder, and an Englishvoice whispered:

  "Colville, don't you know me?"

  They were standing in a cleared space where the moonbeams gave somedegree of light. The Arab had pushed back his burnous, revealinga worn, handsome face, tanned brown with exposure. Though thecharacteristic traits of his supposed race are the heavy lip, and thehawk-like nose, this man was straight-nosed and thin-lipped. He wascadaverous enough, but no Arab.

  Colville did more than gaze, he actually gaped at the other. There wasno mistaking the cultured accent of an English gentleman, and yet--thething could not be; he fancied he was bewitched.

  "My dear Jimmie, have I changed so much, then, since last we playedsnooker together in the club?"

  "Well, I'm blessed!" muttered Colville, or to be candid, he used thesubaltern's variant of the phrase.

  "You soon will be if you don't do as I tell you," came the emphaticassurance. "But before I go, for I must give the people at Ibi achance--though it is a thousand to one I shall be too late--who is thelady your friend inquired about?"

  Colville wanted to say so much that he found but few words. He couldonly gasp:

  "My dear Warden--didn't you hear?"

  "I heard her name, of course, but it cannot be a lady of the same namein whom I was once interested. Still, it is an odd thing it should bementioned to-night, and in this place. Who is she?"

  "Oh, d----n it all!" groaned Colville, "how could any poor devil guesshe was in for this sort of stew when he started from Ibi yesterday!"

  "I assure you we are wasting precious time, Jimmie. Perhaps it is myfault, but the question was a natural one under the circumstances. Tellyour men it is all right, or they may want to prevent my departure;they understand those drums, you know. My only hope of success in caseI am stopped at the bend is to keep up the pretense that I am a specialenvoy from the emirs in the interior. Some day, if we win through thisbusiness, I shall have a fine yarn for you. Good-by!"

  "But look here, old chap, I can't let you slip away like that. Confoundit! I don't know what to say, but the plain truth is best, perhaps. Thegirl you were engaged to, Miss Evelyn Dane, is inside the mission-housenow, this minute, and the man I brought from Ibi is the Earl ofFairholme. He told me all about you on the way up. He's a decent sort,and he is wild over Miss Dane. But it is only fair to add----"

  A series of blood-curdling yells and a volley of musketry that lit thebush with spurts of flame put an abrupt end to Colville's qualifyingsentence. He was so taken aback by the extraordinary coincidence thatWarden should arrive at Kadana almost at the same instant as the manwho had come there with the avowed intent of taking Evelyn Dane home toEngland as his wife, that for one bemused second he failed to grasp theimminence or extent of the native onslaught.

  It was otherwise with Warden. Though his brain might well have reeledat the words he had just heard from a brother officer's lips, theincessant watchfulness demanded by the life of the past five monthshad created in him a second nature. While his heart asked tumultuousquestions and found no answer to any of them, his head dictated thesteps that must be taken if they were to offer any sort of organizeddefense.

  "Company! Attention!" he shouted. "Four men remain with the launch,keep steam up and shove off from the bank; all others follow to themission. Double--March! Beni Kalli, run the canoe ashore and come!"

  The loud command, proceeding apparently from their leader, though notin their leader's voice, was promptly obeyed by the Hausas. They camerunning across the clearing, loading their rifles and fixing bayonetsas they ran.

  "Now, Colville, take hold!" said Warden coolly. "I'm afraid I startledyou out of your wits, but they're your men, not mine."

  The younger man needed no second bidding. Glad of the night that hidthe scarlet in his face, he told the small squad to surround themission-house. They would be less visible beneath the veranda than onit. Hume and Fairholme with two women
in white dresses had rushed outat the first sound of firing, and they were painfully distinct in thelight that came from a large lamp inside the room at the back.

  "Shout to them to get inside, close the doors, and extinguish alllights," said Warden, keeping close to Colville during the combinedrush to gain the obscurity afforded by the heavy beams that supportedthe upper story.

  Colville obeyed. He was honestly glad that a stronger man had takencontrol. His knowledge of the country told him that a most serious andfar-spread rebellion was in progress. Rifles, not gas-pipe guns, werein the hands of a tribe famed for its fighting qualities. He had adozen men, not counting the four in the launch, to meet the onset of asmany thousands. He did not fear death, for he had faced it many times,but it was one thing to enter on a definite campaign, no matter whatthe odds, and quite another to find himself plunged into a seeminglyhopeless fight in a time of profound peace, and at the close of anexhausting journey undertaken to oblige a sporting British peer.

  He had to bellow his instructions twice before the alarmed occupantsof the mission-house quitted the veranda. The sound of his own voicewas helpful; it steadied him. It was in his natural tone that hegrowled to Warden:

  "Fairholme admits that he is an ass, rather boasts of it, in fact, butI thought Hume would have more sense than to let the women stand thereoffering a clear target."

  "They are safe enough yet," was the reply. "Their rooms face the river;the attack is coming from the bush."

  "Wouldn't it be better to take to the river at once?"

  "No, that means certain death. There are three canoes, and each has aNordenfeldt mounted in its bows."

  "Good Lord, man, a Nordenfeldt!"

  "Yes, and M'Wanga has a dozen 12-pounders in two batteries at Oku.Not that they will ever be of much use to him. I took care of that.But I failed utterly to get on board the canoes. They were moored inmid-stream, guarded day and night, and the guns were sheeted. Moreover,I have been out of gear nearly six weeks. This is a big business,Colville. How is it no one knew of what was going on?"

  "There were rumors, but they died down. Forbes----"

  "Did they send Forbes in my place?"

  "Yes."

  "That explains it. He is a capital fellow in an office. To ask him tounravel an Oku plot was to set a bat catching sparrows by daylight."

  They had plenty of time to discuss matters thus coolly. No WestAfrican fighting-man would demean himself by delivering an assaulton an enemy's position without a preliminary hubbub of yells andwild shooting. It is different when he is the defender. Then he willlie close as a partridge till the precise moment that his usuallyantiquated guns can most effectually belch forth a destroying blast ofnails, iron scraps, pebbles, and broken glass and pottery.

  But the seconds passed, and the minutes, and no horde of demoniacfigures poured across the open compound. The shooting was incessant,yet no bullet struck the house, though not even an indifferent nativemarksmen could well avoid hitting a big building in which all theliving-rooms were on the same floor as the veranda. The lower part ofthe structure served as a store.

  The Hausa soldier-policemen, picked men of the West African Regiment,were trained not to fire without orders. They were far too few innumber to line the stockade, which enclosed a space fully two acres inextent. In any case, the defense it afforded was worse than useless.The gates were jammed open by a year's growth of herbage. In someinstances, a passage had been made by the simple expedient of removinga whole section. It would demand many hours of labor by a hundred mento put the palisade in a serviceable condition. Hume's effort was toestablish a mission, not a fort, in this jungle outpost.

  The Hausa sergeant was puzzled in more ways than one. He heard hisofficer talking English to an Arab, he heard the unmistakable cracklingof rifles fully equal to those with which he and the others were armed,and he was unable to account for the delay in the attack.

  Enjoining on his men the necessity of keeping well within the shadow,he crept along close to the wall until he stood by Colville's side.He was about to ask permission to make a reconnaissance, and thusforce the enemy to reveal themselves, when an incident almost withoutprecedent in bush warfare took place.

  The indiscriminate firing stopped, the wild-beast noises died away intoabsolute silence, and a strip of white cotton suddenly became visiblein one of the many gaps in the stockade. It was held stationary for amoment, then a native warrior stepped boldly forth into the moonlight.His magnificent physique was enhanced by the war trappings that deckedhis head, breast, and loins, and he strode forward with the lithemovements of a man in perfect training. When he entered the compound,it was seen that he carried a white flag on a lance. He meant toparley, and such a departure from the savage methods of a semi-cannibaltribe was hitherto unheard of. Usually, an unprotected party ofEuropeans, whether missionaries or traders, are butchered without mercyif found within the zone of tribal foray.

  "By gad," muttered Colville, "they're going to offer terms!"

  "I think I can guess what the terms will be," said Warden. "There's awoman in the case, Jimmie--something new in a bush campaign, eh?"

  The subaltern did not understand the curious undertone of grim irony inthe remark; but he was aware of it and made no reply. The black warriorhad halted. His wonderfully developed sense of hearing warned him thatsome one not in the house was speaking, and the voices could come fromno other place than the gloomy recess beneath the veranda.

  "O Hume!" he cried loudly. "I fit for palaver."

  Colville half expected that Warden would answer for Hume. He wasmistaken. His senior leaned back against the wall of the store,and folded his arms with the air of a man who meant to abide by asettlement in whose discussion he can take no part.

  The negro, though trusting to his vague conception of a code of honorthat he associated with fighting against white men, came no nearer.

  "O Hume!" he cried again, "open dem door one-time, an' hear what I fitfor say."

  In the strange hush succeeding the frenzied uproar that announced thepresence of a host of armed natives, the envoy's words were clearlyaudible to the five people in the upper rooms. Hume came out, followedby Bambuk.

  "Who are you and what do you want?" said the missionary. "Why do youcome to me at night, and threaten the lives of my friends and myself inthis manner?"

  "I done tell you if Bambuk lib. I no fit for long palaver."

  At this, the interpreter leaned over the rail of the veranda.

  "You are Loanda, I think?" he said, using the vernacular.

  "Yes," was the reply. "Tell the white man that the lives of himselfand his wife will be spared, and they will be taken in safety to thefrontier, if the English girl now in their house is handed over to usat once. She, too, will be well treated. One whom she knows, MiguelFiguero, awaits her at Oku. He is our friend, so she need have no fear.I, Loanda, say it, and that which I say is done."

  Bambuk translated this astounding request literally. Evelyn heard everyword, and she alone grasped their terrible import. She appeared in thedoorway, white-faced, with eyes that terror had made almost distraught.

  "Miguel Figuero!" repeated the bewildered Hume. "Isn't that the name ofthe Portuguese rascal you have told us of, Miss Dane?"

  "Yes," she said, and her voice was tense with the effort to keep itfrom breaking. "He is in league with the men of Oku. I knew it, andCaptain Warden warned the authorities at home about him, but no onehere would listen. Oh, Mr. Hume, it is a dreadful thing to say, butrather than fall into that man's power I would kill myself."

  "You surely don't imagine that we would agree to those terms, do you?"

  Hume was almost indignant, but Evelyn flung herself on her knees andlifted her clasped hands in agony to the star-studded sky.

  "What else can I do?" she wailed. "My life is broken. I have nothingleft to live for. If I refuse this offer of peace, it means that allyour lives are forfeit--yours and your wife's, and Lord Fairholme's,and those of the officer and men who came here in the laun
ch from Ibi.Tell him I agree. I will go to this man. But make the chief promise tospare you and the others. I must know first that you are safe. Then--OGod, pardon me!--then--I----"

  "My dear girl--which of us would purchase a few more hours of life atsuch a price?"

  "But you do not understand," she blazed forth. "If the death of one cansave many why shouldn't the one die? We can't hope to resist these men;there are thousands of them. And unless I fall by my own hand, they maycapture me unharmed after you have given your lives uselessly in mydefense. Oh, pity me and pray for me, but do not let me be responsiblefor the slaughter of the few friends I possess in the world!"

  She could no longer restrain her tears. The dark blue dome thattypified the heaven to which she looked for mercy was blotted out ofsight. She cowered as though from a blow, and wept pitifully. Then avoice rang out from the compound directly in front of where she knelt.As the opening syllables reached her ears, though she understood noword that was uttered, her surcharged brain harbored a new dread, forthe man who was speaking spoke in Warden's voice--Warden, whom she hadlearned to regard as dead these months past. Of course, grief and fearhad driven her mad! She swept away the tears that blurred her vision,and peered through the rails of the veranda, but she saw only a cloakedArab who had stepped forth into the moonlight, and was now addressingstern warnings to the amazed Loanda. And fantasy played her distractedsenses another strange trick. The face of the native chief was plainlyvisible. She watched its expression change from sheer wonderment tobaffled rage, and it seemed to her that it was not Loanda who gloweredat the Arab who harangued him, but the scowling mask carved on thegourd by Domenico Garcia.

  Oh, yes, she was truly mad. She realized it herself, but the otherswould never suspect it. Then the persistence of the notion broughtrelief to her aching heart. A kindly delirium might carry her throughthe ordeal that lay before her. She no longer feared insanity, ratherdid she welcome it, and now was her chance to act while she was braveand would not flinch from that which she conceived was her duty.

  But why was that tall Arab still talking in Warden's voice, and whydid the stalwart savage seem to threaten him with furious gesture?Even while she was gazing between the wooden bars of the railing, shesaw Loanda grasp his spear menacingly, whereupon the Arab laughed--howlike it was to Warden's laugh of good-natured raillery!--and a coupleof Hausa soldiers appeared, with rifles held suggestively, as men holdshotguns when they expect a rabbit to scuttle out of a spinney.

  Again, being still under the spell of that sudden lunacy, she heardthe Arab say in English, and more amazingly than ever in Warden's verytones:

  "Now, Jimmie! Four paces to the front in open order--every man--quick!"

  An English officer and several soldiers came out into the open. Afterone glance of sheer astonishment, the Oku chief turned and stalked awaytowards the bush. He did not deign to hurry, but his lithe springy gaitsoon carried him into the somber shadows. The dramatic silence thatfollowed was broken by the man in an officer's uniform.

  "By gad, Warden, you did that splendidly," he said. "I should neverhave thought of it. Do you think it will work?"

  "For to-night, perhaps. One never knows just how the native mind willlook at a thing. It gave Loanda a positive shock when he was reallyconvinced that a British officer was not only present at most ofM'Wanga's war palavers, but had thrown out of gear every field gun inhis precious battery. He would not tell me where M'Wanga is now, but Ihardly think they will attack us in earnest before consulting him."

  "I am inclined to believe you have knocked the bottom out of the wholebally business," said Colville jubilantly. "They are scared to death ofyou, Warden. You are the first man who had the opportunity to bust upthe Oku ju-ju, and, by Jove, didn't you take it?"

  But Colville was wrong. The weird hoot of an owl came from the bush, adrum tapped out a signal, and instantly the forest became alive withvivid jets of light. The negroes had begun their fusillade again,and this time they meant to kill, not to frighten. Bullets whistledpast the house, imbedded themselves in the stout timbers, tore hugesplinters from beams, and hurled shingles from the roof. It seemed tobe a miracle that every person in or near the building was not struckinstantly, but the opening volley sent the Hausas to cover beneath theveranda, where they were told to lie flat on the ground behind theprotecting supports. To reply to the enemy's fire would be merely awaste of precious ammunition, and the men carried only a small quantityin their bandoliers. The time to fire was when every shot would beeffective. Rarely will untrained savages press home an attack whentheir foremost warriors fall. The Hausas, negroes themselves, had beentaught this in many a bush skirmish, and they had absolute confidencein their white leaders, for, by this time, the rumor had gone roundthat the man in Arab clothing was the well-known deputy commissionerof the Brass River, under whom some of them had fought in the sisterprotectorate.

  Hume, who was cool as any soldier, seized Evelyn's arm the instantthat the first bullet crashed into the woodwork. Fairholme, too, whohad recovered from the stupefying suddenness of what was, to him, awholly unexpected sequel to a wearisome trip up a fever-laden river,ran forward to help, and the two men half carried the girl to theprotection of the house.

  But she had no thought of danger. Though it was dark inside the mainliving-room, she held them fast when they would have released her, andtried to read their very souls by a look.

  "Did you hear?" she gasped. "That man--the Arab--who is he?... Theother called him Warden.... Why should he do that?... Was it not cruelof him?... And why, why, did it seem to me that I heard Arthur's voice?"

  "Calm yourself, Miss Dane," said the missionary quietly. "Providence attimes adopts means not within mortal ken. I could not follow what wassaid to Loanda, but Bambuk tells me that, by some astounding chance,Captain Arthur Warden has not only crossed a large part of Africa, buthas lived many weeks in Oku itself, and is now taking measures whichwill, I trust, by God's mercy, secure our safety."

  A queer choking cry came from the girl's parched throat.

  "Then I am not mad?" she murmured. "He is really there! And he heardwhat I said--when--when I offered to go to Figuero?"

  "Yes, of course he heard. It seemed to me it was on your account thathe made himself known to the chief. But I do not yet understand exactlywhat happened. I only know that when first he spoke to Colville he usedArabic."

  "Yes, by gad," put in Fairholme, finding an opening at last. "I thoughthe was a beastly native, an' I cut in like a bloomin' ass. Just myusual luck, Evelyn. The favorite got up in the last stride an' pippedthe outsider by a short head, eh, what?"

  The earl's happy-go-lucky method of expressing himself was singularlyout of tune with his surroundings. Hume had closed the door, andthe windows were already shuttered, so the darkness was now that ofPharaoh's Egypt when Moses stretched forth his hand towards heaven.From without came the incessant crackling of musketry, and the maniacalhowlings of negroes inspiring each other for the ultimate hand-to-handfight; within, one heard the hysterical sobbing of Mrs. Hume, themutterings of the Foulah servant, and the patter of small d?bris fromwalls and roof as the building shook under the sledge-hammer blows ofbullets traveling at a high velocity. Luckily, as Warden had pointedout, the front of the mission-house faced the river, and there was nofiring from that quarter as yet. The veranda was approached by a doublestaircase which mounted from each side and met at a small landing,whence half a dozen steps led to the level of the upper floor. As bothsections of the stairs projected beyond the line of the building, theircomparatively thin boards were being constantly ripped and split bythe leaden missiles that hurtled in from both flanks.

  It was spinning a coin with death for any one to descend either toright or left, yet that is what Evelyn did when Lord Fairholme'sbizarre explanation brought her back to the world which she had alreadyquitted in imagination. Owing to the tomb-like blackness of the room,neither man was aware of her intent until the door was opened and shewas speeding down the shattered stairs.

&nbs
p; In her white dress she was a most conspicuous object. A pent-houseroof shielded the stairs from sun and rain, but the moment she emergedinto the moonlit compound she resembled some ethereal creature sentby the gods to still the wretched strife waged by foolish men. And,spirit-like, she passed unscathed through the hissing and biting rainof lead. She had but one thought, and it fluttered tremulously from herlips.

  "Arthur!" she wailed, "Arthur! I am here!"

  And again, "Arthur! Come to me! Why don't you speak?... It is I,Evelyn.... Where are you? Oh, Arthur dear, answer me."

  Warden was lying by Colville's side behind a main pillar at an angle ofthe house when he heard the girl's rapt cry. Turning on an elbow, hesaw her flitting past. He was up in an instant. Without spoken word heleaped out and clasped her in his arms.

  Colville rose too.

  "Oh, good Lord!" he muttered, "they will both be killed!"

  But fate had chosen for Warden a strange path to a woman's love, andthe fickle goddess shielded him now when he, all a-quiver with thethrill of holding Evelyn in his arms, clasped her tightly and ran withher up the rickety stairs. Even as he hurried to place her in shelterthe bushmen had seen the white-robed apparition and concentrated theirfire in that direction. Bullets spat against the ground, crashedthrough the flimsy wooden structure, and pierced their clothing manytimes--but neither was injured. A few seconds after she had passedthrough the door Evelyn was carried back again. But it was a fittingoutcome of the madness that had fallen on the quiet mission-stationthat she should be blithely heedless of the mortal peril which bothshe and her lover had escaped. Even while death was missing them by ahair's breadth, she began to tell Warden in broken phrases how she hadnever faltered in her belief that he would one day be restored to her,and that she had come to Africa and the Benu? strong in the convictionthat they would meet there and nowhere else in the wide world.

  All of this, and more, was delightfully inaccurate, but Evelyn believedit and the man who listened believed it, and love was more potent thancold reason, so cold reason was barred out among the shrieking hail oflead that had failed to secure its victims.

  Yet their idyll was soon cut short. A red glare became visible throughthe chinks of door and windows, and Warden knew what it meant.

  "They have set fire to the native huts," he said. "They want tosee where our men are stationed before they try a rush. I must go,sweetheart. Kiss me! If it is good-by, I shall die content, for I havepassed through much tribulation ere this divine moment was vouchsafed."

  Not for all the gold in Africa would she prove herself unworthy of himin that supreme moment.

  "Go, then!" she said. "Whether in life or death we shall not beseparated again."

  Warden was at the door when some one sprang after him. In the growinglight of the burning buildings he recognized Colville's companion inthe launch.

  "I suppose I can count for one in the scrum," said the stranger."Evelyn promised to be my sister, old chap, an' before we all go underI'll d----n well down a nigger or two for the sake of the family. Canyou spare a gun? I'm a good man at driven birds, an' these black jokersare several sizes bigger than blackcock--eh, what?"