CHAPTER III
THE CANOE ADRIFT
They passed in time the rocks that guard Madeira, the green bay of Funchal, the peak of Teneriffe, and then the ship turned on its heel to the West Coast, and, while yet a thousand miles away, was welcomed by two messengers—a shrike and a hawk-moth, who had sailed along some upper current of air with red sand from the Sahara to filter down at last on to a firm resting-place.
They went away down into the Gulf of Guinea, and with many a call by the way to discharge cargo, approached the mouth of the Congo, whose flood gave a tawny colour to the sea. So far they had seen nothing but the squalid fringe of the Continent, and the damp heat had steamed them and tried them, but the young explorers had not lost the fine edge of their imagination. They knew that hundreds of miles back in the unexplored heart of the land there were secrets to be unraveled, and though they shed their warmer clothing, they retained their ardour. The river somewhere in its far reaches held for them, and them alone, new forms of life—the grandfather of all the crocodiles, a mammoth hippo; and somewhere in the forest was some huge gorilla waiting to offer them battle. Moreover, were these not the gates of the Place of Rest?
"Surely," said Compton, as they steamed slowly into the night off the mouth of the great river, "thy slave is not cast down because the black children of the mud-house at our last calling-place did mock us with their mouths, and the man, their father, wore the silk hat and frock-coat of civilization?"
"Perish the thought," said Venning, throwing a banana peel at a brilliant flash of phosphorescent light in the oily waters. "Yet the man-who-was-tired, he of the parchment face, who sat on a verandah with his feet on the rail, prophesied that within seven days we should be sighing for English bacon in the country where a white man could breathe."
"There is no snap in the air; but I can breathe freely. See;" and
Compton took a deep breath.
"That is the teaching of the hunter," said Venning, wisely. "Deep breathing gives a man deep lungs. That is his teaching. Also this, that a man should keep his skin clean and his muscles supple by hard rubbing after the bath. Therefore, I did ask the bo'sun to turn the hose on us in the morning when they clean down the decks. It is good friction."
"And he has another saying—that it is good for the skin to apply oil with the palm of the hand till the skin reddens. I have a smell about me like a blue gum-tree, for the ointment he gave contains eucalyptus oil."
"And the fat of a goat. There is much virtue in goats' fat, and the eucalyptus is not to the taste of the trumpeter."
"The mosquito?"
"Even so."
"Then why don't you say so in good English?" and Compton dropped away from his high-flown speech. "I bet that's a shark kicking up all that phosphorescence."
"He swims in fire, like the—like the——"
"Sprat!"
"Like Apollo, you lean-minded insect. With every sweep of his tail he sends out diadems of liquid gems, and his broad nose shovels fire before him like a——"
"Stoker. Exactly; and if we had a lump of fat pork and a hook we could drag him up and collect a basketful of jewels. I dare say he is leering up at us with a green and longing eye."
"Did you hear that cry?" asked Venning, suddenly.
"No." "Was it the shark whispering, do you think?"
"Shut up and listen."
They leant over the rail and peered into the night. The drowsy air throbbed to the measured beat of the engines, but they scarcely noticed that accustomed sound.
"There it is again."
"Yes. I heard something like a sheep bleating."
"Would a sheep be swimming out here, you ass?"
"The shark's off—look!" and they saw a streak of fire shoot forward.
"And there goes another. By Jove, they must have heard the cry!"
"I'm sorry for the sheep then," muttered Compton.
They bent far forward, listening intently, and following the course taken by the sharks as defined by the gleaming wake. The leadsman swung out the sounder as the vessel slackened down with a yell from the escape-valve that drowned all other sounds with its deafening clamour.
"By the deep nine!" cried a bass voice.
The bell in the engine-room signaled the skipper's order, and the ship felt her way once more. Again there was silence, save for the throb of the engines and the grating of the steering-chain at intervals.
"I have not heard the cry again," said Compton.
"Can you see anything over there—follow the line of my finger— there, just by that gleam?"
"Yes; I think there is something."
"Then I think the captain ought to know;" and Venning ran off first to Mr. Hume.
"Something afloat, eh?" and Mr. Home rose from his deck-chair.
"Some one in distress, I think," They went on to the bridge, and Venning began his story; but the captain cut him short by wheeling round to the rail.
"Ahoy, there—ahoy!"
A startling response came in a long, quivering wail out of the dark sea.
"By the lord," muttered the captain, "what's that?"
"Jackal," said Mr. Hume.
"Impossible! We are miles from the shore."
"Jackal, sure enough. Maybe sent adrift by a flood, and taken to a tree."
The captain laughed. "I thought it was a hoodoo at least. Well, lad"—turning to Venning—"you don't want me to pick up a creature like that?"
"I don't think it is far away, sir. I think I see a tree or boat, and if you would lower me over the bows and ease the vessel——"
"Well?"
"Perhaps I could pick it up."
"You are not afraid of being bitten?"
"I think it would know I meant it good."
The skipper laughed good-humouredly. "Well, you're a plucky lad, and, at any rate, I'd not be losing time." He touched the bell, and motioned to the steersman. The ship slowed down and came round. "Mr. Bobbins, just sling this young gentleman over the port-bows, and have a light lowered. Do you still stick to your bargain?"
Venning answered by sliding off the bridge and climbing up into the bows, where a knot of sailors had gathered at the gangway. A rope was looped round his thigh, so as to give his arms play, and two men stood to pay him over and down.
"Here she is!" sang out the mate.
The bell rang out, "Stop her," and Venning went over, catching the rope above his head with his left hand, and taking a turn round with his right foot. There was a scraping sound against the side of the vessel.
"I've got hold," he shouted. "It's a tree—no, a boat." Then, "By
Jove!"
"What is it?" cried several together, excited by the startled exclamation.
"Lower the light!" The lantern sank over the side, but those above could not see well because of the bulge of the hull.
"Now lower me. I shall get in and make fast."
"Take care!" cried Mr. Hume.
"Look out for the sharks, sir," sang out a sailor. "There's one coming up."
"Lower away, please—quick!"
The men lowered. "That's right. I'm in the boat, or whatever it is.
Now let down the lantern."
Those leaning over the side saw Venning reach up for the lantern, and then they heard a snarling and snapping.
"Stand ready to haul in!" cried the captain. "That brute will attack the boy. One of you men go down."
The snarling continued, mingled with soothing cries from Venning; and then the weird howl burst forth anew, daunting the sailor who was carrying out the captain's order.
The mate stepped forward. "Stand aside!" he cried, and swung himself over and down. He reached Venning's side, and they saw him peering about him.
"By thunder!" he muttered.
"What is it?" demanded the captain, irritably. "D'ye expect me to spend the whole night here?"
"A minute, sir. Let over a running tackle, and we'll have the whole thing aboard."
"Lively there! Lower the tackle, and don't stand staring with your mouths open. Swing out those davits."
The davits swung out, the tackle ran through the pulleys into the water with a splash, and the mate shifted the unknown craft, with its mysterious freight, amidships. A few moments he occupied in getting the tackle into position.
"Haul in!" he shouted.
"Heave!" roared the captain, in a state of high excitement; and the sailors, wrought up to a pitch, heaved with a will.
The captain, Mr. Hume, and Compton, peering over the side, saw a long, narrow canoe rising up, with the forms of the mate and Venning standing amidships, and some huddled object aft.
The canoe swung clear of the rails, the tackle was made fast, the davits swung in, and then the canoe was slowly lowered to the main deck.
"Why, it's a man," shouted Compton.
"And a dog," muttered the sailors, falling back. "With a mouthful of teeth."
The mate and Venning stepped out as the canoe reached the deck, and the mate turned the lantern full on the huddled group, showing a jackal, with raised mane and bared teeth, crouching over the prostrate form of a man, whose teeth also were bared, and whose eyes seemed to glare with the same fury that showed in the flaming green eyes of the animal.
"What a pair of demons!"
"The man is gagged and bound, captain," said Venning. "If the cook will bring a piece of meat for the jackal, I think I can get to the man without trouble."
"You've done very well, Venning," said Mr. Hume, quietly. "Leave this matter to me; it is more in my line."
With his eyes on the jackal, he placed his hand on the side of the canoe and moved forward gently while he spoke in Kaffir. "Peace, little friend," were his words, as he afterwards explained to the amazed captain. "We are hunters both, eh? We know each other, eh? There is no harm in me towards you. You know it, little hunter; you know it well."
It was strange to hear the deep accents of an unknown tongue, strange to see a man using speech in complete gravity to a wild animal, but stranger than all to note the effect on the animal itself.
At first the red mouth opened wide and the green eyes flamed up, but as the strong hand crept nearer, the glare went out under the steady gaze of the man's tawny eyes, and next, with a whimper, the jackal crept forward on its stomach, till the sharp black nose smelt the man's hand.
"We are friends, little hunter, we three;" and the great fingers passed over the yellow body up towards the face of the bound man. "Friends—together—for we are hunters all—you, myself, and this poor one here with his speech cut off." "We will see to that, eh?" The fingers were on the man's face, and with a twist the gag was out, and the man drew in his breath with a great sob.
"Ow—ay, that is better; now a little water."
Still keeping his eyes fixed on the man and his beast, Mr. Hume held out a hand for a cup, and with a moistened handkerchief bathed the cracked and swollen lips. The eyes of both the man and his beast continued fixed on the hunter, following his every movement, and never straying to the ring of faces round, showing white in the glare of the light. The strong fingers moved swiftly here and there, loosening the hide ropes that bound the legs and arms, and then rubbing ointment with a strong smell of eucalyptus into the bruised skin.
"So—now a little broth for the man, cook, and a scrap of meat for the jackal. Gently, gently, cook; don't scare them, and don't crowd in, you others."
"Ay, ay," burst out the captain, in a sudden fury. "What's the whole ship's company doing here? Is this a garden-party, Mr. Robbins?"
"Get forward!" roared the mate, in a voice that sent the jackal almost crazy with renewed fright; and at the creature's wild cry the sailors hurried off, muttering that they had taken a whole cargo of misfortune aboard.
The hunter looked reproachfully at the mate, who was mounting to the bridge, and then began once more to soothe the frightened animal, which in time took a bit of raw meat he proffered. The man drank his broth, and then sat up to stare about him with quick glances. When lying down he had seemed black, but, now that he was in the light, it was seen that he was more mahogany than black, with a more prominent nose and thinner lips than are usually found with the negroid stock. His hair, however, was in little tufts, and the white of his eyes had the smoky hue of the negro. As he sat, Mr. Hume rubbed the back of his neck, and fed him with broth, a mouthful at a time, and as this went on the fierce black eyes again and again returned from their swift, suspicious range to the hunter's face.
"He seems to grow stronger," said Venning.
"Fetch a rug from my cabin; we will make him a bed in his own canoe.
He will rest easier there till the morning."
The rug was brought, and the man nodded his head as it was arranged comfortably; then, with another long intent look at the hunter, he settled himself down with a sigh, spoke a word to his strange companion, which at once curled itself at his feet, and was asleep.
"Now, boys," said Mr. Hume, "you go to bed. I will watch here, and in the morning, maybe, we will find out the mystery."
In the morning the steamer was on the yellow waters of the Congo, and the boys forgot even about the strange couple in their first view of the mighty river; but the sight of a native-manned canoe, shooting out from the mist which hung in wisp over the waters, recalled the incident. They found Mr. Hume in an easy-chair, drinking his early morning cup of coffee, and at his feet, stretching along the scuppers, was the canoe, still with its crew aboard and asleep, though the jackal slept apparently with one eye open. The canoe was, they saw, made out of a single tree-trunk, and was thickly coated with the slime of the river, a heavy, sodden, roughly shaped craft, most unlike the light boat that skimmed into view from out the mist.
"What do you make of it?" said Mr. Hume, after the two boys had made a long inspection.
"It seems to me," said Venning, "that the jackal has a very dark coat."
"That is so; it is unusually dark. What does that suggest to you?"
"Well, as the colour is adapted to the nature of the country in which the animal hunts, I should say that the jackal came from a wooded district."
"Good. And what is your opinion, Compton?"
Compton bent down to examine the bows. "Look here, sir," he said; "there is a prayer to Allah carved in Arabic on a leaden medallion, and fixed into the wood."
"Is that so?" and the hunter looked at the signs with interest. "I had not seen that. And it means——"
"That Arabs had something to do with the making of the canoe."
"Umph! I doubt very much if it is Arab-built. That talisman may have been found by a native and fixed on—though that is impossible;" and Mr. Hume pondered. "The Arabs may have taken the canoe from the native owner and fixed in the medallion."
"He's awake," said Venning; and the three of them saw that the man, without so much as a movement of surprise at his awakening under such altered circumstances, was keenly observing them.
After he had gravely inspected each in turn, he sat up and raised his hand in salutation. The rug slipped off his shoulders, showing his bare breast, with every rib exposed, and clearly outlined in blue was the form of an animal.
"A totem!" exclaimed the hunter.
"Otter," said Venning.
"Ask the steward if he has the porridge ready that I ordered."
Venning ran off, and returned with a basin of thick oatmeal porridge. The man took it gravely, made another salutation, and ate the whole.
"There's nothing wrong with him," said Mr. Hume, with a smile. "Now we'll get him out of that and fix him up comfortably. I like his looks, and have hopes that he will be useful."
They removed him to a deck-chair, whither he was followed by the jackal, who was in such a state of suspicion that he declined food.
"What I think," said Mr. Hume, in answer to the boys, who wanted his explanation, "is this—that the man and the jackal have come from the interior."
"From the Great Forest?"
"Probably from the Great Forest; for these reasons—that the men who shaped the canoe had no knowledge of the coast-built craft with their high bows; that the man is of a different race from the coast tribes; and because the jackal, from his dark markings, is evidently from a thickly wooded region. That is merely a theory, which does not help us much, and certainly does not explain how he came to be bound and gagged in a canoe at sea hundreds of miles from the forest. However, the main point is that we have got him, and having got him, will keep him."
"Against his will, sir?"
"Oh, I reckon he will be only too thankful for our protection."
"I should think, sir," said Venning, "the fact of his totem being an otter proves that his tribe derives its living mainly from fish."
"That is plausible; but it may, again, be a sign of chieftainship, and a chief I have no doubt he is. Maybe he was sent adrift by some rival faction; but that can scarcely be, for he would not have survived a long journey; and, again, the canoe would have gone aground."
"There is another explanation," said Compton, with a grin. "He may not have come down the river at all. He may have been set adrift from one of those ships we passed for insubordination."
"Ships do not carry canoes or jackals," said Venning, who had made up his mind that the castaway was from the forest, and from nowhere else.
They went down to breakfast, and the morning was occupied in getting their kit and packages together. At noon the steamer was berthed at a pier, and their packages were transferred to a paddle-wheeler, which was to take them over three hundred miles up the wide estuary to a Belgian station. Thence, perhaps, they would proceed hundreds of miles further by another river steamer before they took to their own boat.
"Why, we may be days before we really get to work," said Venning, when the vastness of the Congo was forced on his attention by a casual reference to "hundreds of miles."
"Days—weeks, my boy, before we come to the fringe of our field. The river is more than half the length of the Continent; its length is half the distance by sea from Southampton to the Cape, and, next to the Amazon, it pours a greater body of water into the sea than any river in the world."
"Africa," said Compton, "seems to be the driest and the wettest, in parts, of any country; and all its great rivers, except the Nile, run to waste."
"They'll keep," said Mr. Hume. "When the old world gets tired, worn out, and over-populated, it will find use for these big, silent, deserted rivers, that would carry the ships of the world on their yellow waters."