The Fire-Gods A Tale of the Congo, Charles Gibson [most life changing books .txt] 📗

Crouch’s eye became fixed in the

centre of this. He remained motionless for some seconds, and then on a

sudden grasped Edward by the arm.

 

"There’s a man there!" said he. "Look out!"

 

Simultaneously a black form sprang out of the grass and ran up the hill

in the direction of the village. Crouch whipped round upon M’Wané and

his Fans.

 

"After him!" he cried. "A reward if you catch him alive."

 

The four Fans set off as fast as they could go. The race lasted no

longer than five minutes at the most. The fugitive seemed possessed of

the agility of an antelope when startled from its midday slumber; he

sprang over boulders, he dodged right and left like a snipe. But the

Fans were fleeter of foot than he; at every stride they gained upon him,

and in the end he was overtaken.

 

They brought him back to Crouch--a woeful, terrified object who had not

the courage to lift his head. Crouch tried him with five languages, but

he seemed not to understand, and only gave utterance to a few incoherent

grunts. Then Crouch tried the "blood-bond," and this is not pleasant to

describe. He took a knife from his pocket, opened a vein in his hand,

and the native licked the wound. At that Crouch gave his knife to the

man, who in turn inflicted a wound upon himself, and Crouch went through

his part of the business with a heroism that Max was bound to admire.

They were now "blood-brothers," and that is a bond which is inviolable

in the region of the Congo. Crouch made the man understand him by means

of signs, in the art of which he was a master.

 

"I have one heart," said he, by which he conveyed the fact that he was

no traitor, that his word could be relied on. "I wish to speak with the

people of your village."

 

The man, pointing in the direction of Makanda, wanted to know whether

Crouch and his companions were allies of the Fire-gods.

 

"No," said Crouch. "We are come to make war upon the Fire-gods."

 

The man but half believed that. None the less, he agreed to take them

to the village. They urged him to set forward without delay, since it

had already grown dark.

 

It was past nightfall when they arrived at a narrow street of small,

rounded huts, constructed of bamboo stems and palm leaves. Despite the

fact that they came with one of the villagers, the majority of the

inhabitants fled at their approach. This wild people were timid, shy as

animals; also, as we shall see, they stood in a mortal fear of Cæsar and

his Arabs.

 

As they approached the village, Crouch managed to gain the confidence of

their captive. Where natives were concerned the little sea-captain had

a way with him. The man promised that if they would wait till the

morning he would persuade his friends to attend a palaver.

 

That night they had the village to themselves. The inhabitants--men,

women and children--had disappeared into the valley, where they spent

the night in fear and trembling. This is the common behaviour of many

uncivilized peoples when, for the first time in their lives, they behold

the indomitable white man. And these villagers had the greater reason

to be fearful, since they associated the explorers with the Fire-gods.

 

Fortunately, they had fled in such haste that they had left most of

their provisions in their huts. Crouch and his companions enjoyed a

change of diet. That night they dined upon the flesh of a goat, which

they resolved to pay for on the morrow, besides plantains and Indian

corn.

 

They took turn and turn about to keep watch throughout the night, but

there was no alarm. At daybreak they stationed themselves upon an

eminence above the village, hoping that the inhabitants would summon up

courage to return. Below them was the cultivated ground through which

they had passed the previous evening. The greater part had been given

over to the culture of ground-nuts; but there were also small patches of

Indian corn and banana groves. The explorer who wishes to succeed with

the untutored savage must possess his soul in patience by the hour.

Crouch sat down and lit his pipe.

 

Shortly before midday, several dusky figures appeared from out of the

jungle, and made their way to the plantation. There they remained in a

body, frightened to come nearer; and by the aid of his field-glass, Max

was able to make out the figure of Crouch’s "blood-brother" who,

gesticulating wildly, endeavoured to persuade his friends and relations

to return.

 

Seeing that this was going to be a long business, Crouch suggested that

they should walk down to the village and partake of food. Since their

hosts were unwilling to entertain them, it only remained for them to

help themselves. This they did with liberality, for they had the

appetites of lions.

 

They were in the middle of their repast when they heard the sound of

running feet and a great commotion. Looking up they beheld one of the

women of the village running towards them well-nigh panic-stricken, and

filling the air with screams. This woman rushed into a hut, and came

out again with all her portable belongings.

 

By then the little street was crowded with old men, women and children,

wringing their hands in desperation, and uttering such moans and

supplications as were heartrending to listen to. It was remarkable that

among the crowd there were not more than five young men at the most; the

majority were women, and of the children there were few who were not

three years of age.

 

Crouch looked about him, and caught sight of his "blood-brother," who

was no less distracted than the rest. He laid hold of this fellow by

the arm, and with great difficulty managed to discover what had

happened.

 

The "blood-brother" had just persuaded his relatives to return to the

village; he had explained, at last, to their satisfaction that the new

white men were not the servants of the Fire-gods, when suddenly the

Fire-gods themselves had been seen approaching up the valley. At that,

the whole population had taken to their heels. They knew not where they

were going, for it was the custom of the Fire-gods to come upon them

from both sides at once, and if they tried to escape they were shot

without mercy. The great Fire-god was there himself--the tall, white

man with the black beard--and it was he whom they feared even more than

the Arabs.

 

Crouch looked at Edward. There was a twinkle in his eye.

 

"There’s going to be fun," said he.

 

"It will come to a fight," said Edward; "and I’m not sorry for that."

 

"I hope it won’t," said Crouch. "There are many things we ought to find

out before we come to blows. As far as I can understand from my worthy

’blood-brother,’ Cæsar is coming here for palaver. They’ll hold palaver

in the street; and if we hide in a hut we ought to overhear what the

advertisements in the newspapers call ’something to our advantage.’"

 

"I see," said Edward; "and if we’re discovered, we fight."

 

"Exactly," said Crouch. "That’s the idea."

 

It so happened that they had placed their "loads" in one of the huts

where they would not be seen by Cæsar as he entered the village. It was

all Crouch could do to explain to his "blood-brother" that they desired

to hide, that the Fire-gods must not be told of their presence in the

village. After a while, the man seemed to understand; but, indeed, he

stood in such dread of the Portuguese that it was extremely doubtful

whether he was wholly responsible for what he was saying.

 

Crowded together in one of the small huts the three Englishmen and the

four Fans awaited the arrival of the Fire-gods. They were astonished at

what they beheld--the abject consternation and alarm of the villagers,

who now appeared a cowered and servile race. Never for one moment did

it seem to occur to the few men among them to take up arms, in spite of

the fact that the Pambala--to whom they were obviously related--are a

warlike and courageous people.

 

The reason for their cowardice was obvious. They did not fear the

Portuguese without a cause. They had learnt to their cost that Cæsar

was a man to be dreaded.

 

Crouch made a little eye-hole in the wall of the hut, whence he obtained

a good view of the street. It was through this that he caught sight of

Cæsar and de Costa, the moment they entered the village.

 

It was Cæsar himself who led the way. He strolled forward, with his

rifle under his arm, and his black eyes shooting in all directions, as

if he were doing no more than taking an afternoon walk in a

neighbourhood where there was much to be observed. He was followed by

four Arabs, in robes of flowing white; and the last of these conducted a

negro, of the same tribe as the villagers, who wore an iron collar round

his neck which was made fast to a chain. The rear of the party was

brought up by de Costa, slinking forward like some mongrel cur,

fever-stricken and afraid.

 

The party halted in the village street, some little distance from the

hut where the three Englishmen were hiding, but not so far away as to

make it impossible for Crouch to overhear the conversation that ensued.

The chained negro was brought forward by the Arab who had charge of him;

and it was this man who acted as interpreter. Cæsar spoke to him in

Portuguese, and he translated. Crouch made a mental note of every word,

for he had a far better knowledge of the Portuguese language than the

interpreter himself.

 

"As you know," said Cæsar, "it is my custom to state my business in a

few words. I come here to give orders. I expect those orders to be

obeyed."

 

He lifted his sombrero hat and mopped the perspiration from his

forehead, for the afternoon was hot, and he walked up hill. The four

Arabs stood around him--proud, arrogant, handsome men, upon whose

features were stamped an unmitigated contempt for the simple savages who

stood in awe before them. It was the headman of the village who

answered, an old man, with a short, grey beard, who wore a helmet made

of a monkey’s skin, and surmounted by the green covert feathers of a

parrot.

 

"The great Fire-god," said he, "has but to speak."

 

"Good," said Cæsar. "You know who I am. You know my power. You know

that to disobey me is death."

 

The old man bowed his head.

 

"I trade in ivory," said Cæsar, "black ivory. You understand what I

mean. Now, listen to my command. I desire twenty more slaves, of your

youngest and most able-bodied men. They must be ready to return with me

to Makanda before the setting of the sun."

 

At that the headman threw himself upon the ground.

 

"It is impossible!" he cried. "Only last moon the great Fire-god took

away all the men of the village. No one remains but those who are old,

and women and children. The Fire-god can see for himself."

 

"I do not choose to look," said Cæsar. "As I have said, it is my

business to give orders. There is sickness in my camp, and many of my

people have died, and more are dying every day. I require others to

take their places. If you have no more men, I will take women and

children. But I will require two women, or three boys over twelve and

under sixteen years of age, for every man. You can please yourself as

to which you give me. It is all the same to me."

 

"It is impossible!" repeated the native.

 

"Impossible or not," said the Portuguese, "I give you till sunset. If

these people are not ready then, the consequence is on your own head.

You know how I treated the villages on the other side of the mountain?

Your fate will be the same. I will attack by night; I will set fire to

every hut; and I will take every one of you to be my slaves."

 

"Mercy!" cried the native. But Cæsar turned upon his heel, and led the

way from the village, followed by his Arabs, who smiled in heartless

satisfaction.

 

Crouch gave time for Cæsar to be well away from the village. Then he

crawled out of the hut, and seizing his "blood-brother" by the hand,

swore that he would save them all.

 

At first, he quite failed to gain their confidence. They were convinced

in their minds that the Fire-gods were greater than all men, as the

strength of the elephant exceeds that of other beasts of the forest.

 

But Crouch would not take that for answer. He commanded them to light a

fire, and they obeyed. When the flames were burning brightly he

executed a war-dance round and round the fire. His antics were

extraordinary