Samba: A Story of the Rubber Slaves of the Congo

by Herbert Strang

CHAPTER VIII

Jack in Command

"We've come out of that better than I expected," said Mr. Martindale, when the chief had gone. "I only hope our new brother won't carry his affection too far. If he keeps piling in food in this way, our fellows will wax fat and kick."

"You'll have to give him a hint, uncle. Proverbs are mostly old-fashioned rubbish, but there's one that would suit him: 'Enough is as good as a feast.'"

"Which no nigger would believe. Now I wonder when he will take us to find this ore. The sooner the better, although I calculate he doesn't know the value of time."

Imbono returned in the course of the afternoon, and said that he would be ready to conduct the white men to the gold region next day. But he stipulated that only his new brothers should accompany him. To this condition no one objected but Nando, who appeared to regard it as a personal slight.

"Berrah well, berrah well," he said, his tone suggesting that he washed his hands of the business. "Nando no go, massa no can say nuffin to Imbono. Berrah well; all same."

Immediately after breakfast next morning the two set off in Imbono's company, Jack carried a prospector's pan for washing the soil, Mr. Martindale having declared that he didn't expect to find nuggets lying around. They also carried enough food for the day. Imbono struck off due west from the village; then, when well out of sight, he made a detour, and passing through a couple of miles of dense forest, entered a broken hilly country, which to Mr. Martindale's experienced eye showed many traces of volcanic disturbance. At last, forcing their way through a belt of tangled copse, with many scratches from prickly sprays, they came upon a deep gully, at the bottom of which ran a stream of brownish water, now some twenty feet in breadth. That it was much broader at certain seasons was shown by the wide edging of sand and pebbles at each side.

The chief came to a halt at the edge of the gully, and pointing up and down the stream, said something in his own language. Mr. Martindale nodded his head, but said to Jack—

"I suppose he means we're right there. Why on earth could not he let Nando come and do the translating?"

"Show him your watch, uncle!"

At the sight of the watch Imbono nodded his head rapidly and ejaculated what was clearly an affirmative. Then he led the way down the rocky side of the gully, the others scrambling after him. On reaching the sandy strand Mr. Martindale bent down and eagerly examined it. Taking some of the sand and pebbles in his hand, he stuck a magnifying glass in his eye and picked them over carefully.

"Looks promising, Jack," he said, with the enthusiasm of an old miner. "There are little granules of quartz mixed up with the sand, and a particle or two of iron. But that don't prove there's gold. We'll just try a little experiment."

He emptied a few handfuls of the soil into the pan, filled this with water from the stream, and moved the pan to and fro so as to give the water a concentric motion, Jack and the chief watching him with equal interest. Every now and then Mr. Martindale would cant off a little of the water, which carried off some of the lighter sand with it.

"What you may call a process of elimination or reduction," he said.

"Reductio ad absurdum, uncle?"

"I hope not. Guess you're smartening up, Jack."

"Call it survival of the fittest, then."

"Of the thickest, I'd say. This washing carries off the useless light sand, and leaves the heavy stuff behind, and it's in that we'll find gold if at all."

After nearly half an hour's patient manipulation of the pan, there was left in the bottom a blackish powder and some coarse grains of quartz, with just enough water to cover them.

"Look at that, my boy," said Mr. Martindale. "First time you've seen anything of that sort, I guess."

"But where's the gold, uncle?"

"That's what remains to be seen—perhaps. Keep your eye on that groove as I tilt the pan round. The black stuff is iron-stone; you needn't trouble about that. See if it leaves anything else."

He gently tilted the pan so that the water slowly flowed round the groove, carrying with it the quartz grains and the powder. Jack watched narrowly. After the contents of the pan had made the circuit two or three times he suddenly exclaimed—

"There's a sort of glitter left behind the powder, uncle."

"I reckon that's enough," said Mr. Martindale, setting down the pan. "We've hit it, Jack."

Jack could not refrain from giving a cheer. The chief, who had but half approved the proceedings at the beginning, caught the infection of the lad's enthusiasm, and snapped his fingers and slapped his thighs vigorously.

"We'll have another look higher up," said Mr. Martindale. "One swallow don't make a summer—another piece of what you call antiquated rubbish, Jack. There's gold here, that's certain; but I don't know whether it's rich enough to be worth working."

They walked for half a mile up the stream, and Mr. Martindale went through the same process with the soil there. He was again rewarded. This time, however, the trace of gold was more distinct.

"Jack, my boy," he said, "there's a small fortune in the bed of the stream alone. But I'm not satisfied yet. It's up to us now to discover the mother lode. To judge by the size of the stream it can't be far off. The botheration is we can't talk to the chief, and I say it's most unbrotherly to refuse us the advantage of an interpreter."

"Well, we've plenty of time, uncle. I vote we have our lunch and then go on again."

They sat down on boulders at the edge of the river and ate the manioc cakes and bananas with which Barney had provided them. Imbono seemed pleased when he was invited to share their lunch. Going into the forest, he returned with a large leaf which he shaped like a cup, and in this he brought water from the stream for the white men.

After lunch they followed up the stream. At intervals Mr. Martindale stopped to test the gravel, and found always some trace of gold, now slight, now plentiful. Some three miles up they came to a confluence. The stream was joined by a smaller swifter one, which evidently took its rise in the steep hilly country now becoming visible through the trees.

"We'll try this, Jack."

"Why?"

"Because the bed's more gravelly than the other. I guess the big stream comes out of the forest somewhere; the other will suit our book best."

They found their progress becoming more and more difficult. The ground was more rocky, the sides of the gully were steeper, and the edging of dry gravel diminished until by and by it disappeared altogether, and the prospectors had to take off their boots and socks and wade. There were trees and bushes here and there on the sides and at the top of the gully, but the vegetation became more and more scanty as they ascended. Presently the sound of falling water struck upon their ears, and a sudden turn of the stream brought them into full view of a cataract. At this point the gully had widened out, and the water fell over a broad smooth ledge of rock, dashing on the stones after a descent of some fifty or sixty feet.

"That's fine!" exclaimed Jack, halting to watch the cascade sparkling in the sunlight, and the brownish white foam eddying at the foot.

"Grand!" assented Mr. Martindale. "There's enough water power there to save many a thousand dollars' worth of machinery."

"I was thinking of the scenery, not machinery, uncle," said Jack, with a laugh.

"Scenery! Why, I've got a lot finer waterfall than that on my dining-room wall. It isn't Niagara one way or t'other, but it'll do a lot of mill grinding all the same. Now, Jack, you're younger than I am. I want to see what there is by those rocks ten feet away from the bottom of the fall. Strip, my boy; a bath will do you a power of good, a hot day like this; and there are no crocodiles here to make you feel jumpy."

Jack stripped and was soon waist deep in the water. Reaching the spot his uncle had indicated, he stooped, and found that he could just touch the bottom without immersing himself. The water was too frothy for the bottom to be seen; he groped along it with his hands, bringing up every now and then a small fragment of quartz or a handful of gravel, which Mr. Martindale, after inspecting it from a distance, told him to throw in again.

At last, when he was getting somewhat tired of this apparently useless performance, he brought up a handful of stones, not to as eyes differing from what he had seen for the past half hour. He spread them out for his uncle, now only two or three yards away, to examine.

"I guess you can put on your clothes now," said Mr. Martindale. "Why, hang it, man! you've thrown it away!"

Jack had pitched the stones back into the water.

"I thought you'd done, uncle," he said.

"So I have, and you're done too—done brown. D'you know you've thrown away a nugget worth I don't know how many dollars?"

"You didn't tell me what you were after," said Jack, somewhat nettled. "I couldn't be expected to know you were hunting for nuggets."

"No, you couldn't be expected: and that's just exactly what I brought you over to America for. When you've had the kind of smartening up I mean you to have, you won't talk about what's expected or not expected; you'll just figure it out that there's some reason in everything, and you'll use your own share of reason accordingly."

"All right, uncle," replied Jack good-humouredly. "I might have put two and two together, perhaps. At school, you see, they liked us to do as we were told without arguing. 'Theirs not to reason why'—you know. Shall I fish for that nugget?"

"Not worth while. A few dollars more or less are neither here nor there. I know what I want to know, and now I think we'd better be getting. Put your clothes on. Our brother Imbono has several times anxiously pointed to the sun. He evidently isn't comfortable at the idea of being benighted in these regions."

Screwing some of the sifted gravel into a bag of leaves, Mr. Martindale signed to the chief that he was ready to return. They reached the camp just as the sun was setting. In honour of the recent discovery, Mr. Martindale invited the chief to supper, and gave him a regale which astonished him. To see the white man bring peaches out of a closed pot made Imbono open his eyes; but the sensation of the evening was furnished by a bottle of soda water. When the stopper was loosed and the liquid spurted over, the chief shrank back in amazement, uttering a startled cry. Nando, not skilled in European politeness, guffawed uproariously.

"Him say debbil water, sah. Yah! yah!"

Nothing would induce Imbono to drink the stuff. But he took kindly to tea, and being prevailed on to try a pinch of snuff, he laughed heartily when the paroxysm of sneezing was over, and asked for more.

"Him say like laugh-cry dust plenty much," said Nando.

When the chief had eaten his fill, Mr. Martindale, with considerable diplomacy, explained that the discovery of gold was of little use to him unless he could take men to the spot, and desired the withdrawal of the prohibition. Nando took a long time to convey this to Imbono, and Jack suspected that he was making somewhat lavish promises in the nature of quid pro quo. Imbono at length agreed to the white man's request, provided none of the workers he wished to take with him were servants of the Great White Chief. He consented also to lead him back to the cataract next day, so that he might complete his search for the gold-bearing rocks.

On this second journey Mr. Martindale and Jack were accompanied by two of their negroes with picks. On arriving at the spot the men were set to break away portions of the rocky wall on the left of the cataract.

"You see, Jack," said Mr. Martindale, "the fact that we found gold in the stream shows that it is still being washed down by the water; otherwise it would have been swept away or buried long ago. The rock must be of a soft kind that offers comparatively little resistance to the water, and I'm rather inclined to think that not so very many years ago the cataract was a good deal farther forward than it is now. Well, the gold-bearing stratum must run right through the cataract, horizontally I suspect. It may not be a broad one, but it will probably extend some distance on each side of the fall, and a few hours' work ought to prove it."

As the rock fell away under the negroes' picks, Mr. Martindale and Jack carefully washed samples of it. In less than an hour the glittering trail shone out clear in the wake of the granules of rock as they slid round the groove.

"So much for the first part of our job," said Mr. Martindale, with a quiet sigh of satisfaction. "The next thing is to see if the gold extends above the cataract."

Under Imbono's guidance the party made their way by a detour to the river banks above the falls. After a search of some hours Mr. Martindale declared himself satisfied that the lode was confined to the rocks over which the water poured.

"We can't do much more for the present," he said. "The next thing is to get machinery for working the ore. We'll have to go back to Boma. We can probably get simple materials for working the alluvial deposits there, but the machinery for crushing the ore must be got from Europe, and that'll take time. We'll pack up and start to-morrow."

But after breakfast next morning, when Mr. Martindale had lighted his morning cigar, he startled Jack by saying suddenly—

"Say, Jack, how would you like to be left here with Barney and some of the men while I go back to Boma?"

"What a jolly lark!" said Jack, flushing with pleasure.

"Humph! That's a fool's speech, or a schoolboy's, which often comes to the same thing. I'm not thinking of larks, or gulls, or geese, but of serious business."

"Sorry, uncle. That's only my way of saying I should like it immensely."

"I've been turning it over in the night. I want to make a man of you, Jack; I want to see if there's any grit in you. There ought to be, if you're your mother's boy. Anyway this will give you a chance. Things are this way. We've struck a fortune here. Well, I'm an old miner, and I don't allow anybody to jump my claim. I don't reckon any one is likely to jump it; still, you never know. That fellow Elbel, now; he's an official of the Belgian company, and he knows what I'm here for. He might take it into his head to steal a march on me, and though I've got the mining monopoly for all this district, you bet that won't be much of a protection of my claim all these miles from civilization. So it's advisable to have a man on the spot, and it's either you or me. You don't know anything about mining machinery, so I guess it's no good sending you to Boma. Consequently, you must stay here."

"I'm jolly glad of the chance, uncle. I'll look after your claim."

"Spoiling for a fight, eh? But we mustn't have any fighting. Mind you, all this is only speculation—foresight, prudence, call it what you like. I don't calculate on any one trying to do me out of my rights. And if any one tries to jump my claim, it won't do for you to make a fool of yourself by trying to oppose 'em by force. All you can do is to sit tight and keep an eye on things till I get back. I don't know I'm doing right to leave you: you're the only nephew I've got, and you can't raise nephews as you raise pumpkins. But I thought it all out while you were snoring, and I've made up my mind to give it a trial. Patience and tact, that's what you want. You've got 'em, or you haven't. If you have, I reckon it's all right: if you haven't——"

"Your cigar has gone out, dear old man," said Jack, laying his hand on his uncle's.

"So it has. I'll try another. Well, that's settled, eh? I'll be as quick as I can, Jack: no doubt I'll find a launch when I reach the Congo, or even before if Elbel's boss at Makua likes to make himself pleasant. But I've no doubt Elbel has coloured up our little meeting in his report to headquarters. Anyhow, I should be right back in two or three months—not so very long after all. I'll forward some rifles and ammunition from the first station where I can get 'em: the sale of arms is prohibited in this State, of course; but that isn't the only law, by all accounts, that's a dead letter here, and I don't doubt a little palm-oil will help me to fix up all I want. You'll have to teach the men how to use 'em, and remember, they're only for self-defence in the last extremity. See?"

"I'll be careful, uncle. It's lucky we've a friend in Imbono. I think we'll get along first-rate. Nando can do the interpreting till I learn something of the language."

"Jingo! I'd forgotten Nando. That's a poser, Jack. I shall want him to pilot me down to Boma. I can't get along without an interpreter. That's a nailer on our little scheme, my boy; for of course you can't stay here without some one to pass your orders to the men."

Jack looked very crestfallen. The prospect of being left in charge was very delightful to him, and he had already been resolving to show himself worthy of his uncle's trust. The thing he had regretted most in leaving Rugby was that he would never be in the Sixth and a "power." He did not shrink from responsibility; and it was hard to have his hopes of an independent command dashed at the moment of opportunity. Suddenly an idea occurred to him. "Are you sure none of the other men know enough English to serve my turn?" he said.

"Nando said not a man jack of 'em knows it but himself. I'll call him up and ask him again."

Nando came up all smiles in answer to the call. "You told me that none of the men speak English but yourself," said Mr. Martindale; "is that true?"

"Too plenty much true, sah. Me speak troof all same, sah."

"That's unfortunate. We're going back to Boma. I wanted to leave Mr. Jack here, but I can't do that unless he has some one to do the talking for him. Go and get the things packed up, Nando."

The negro departed with alacrity. But not five minutes later he returned, accompanied by a negro a little shorter than himself, but otherwise showing a strong resemblance. Both were grinning broadly.

"My brudder, sah," said Nando, patting the younger man on the shoulder. "He berrah fine chap. Him Lepoko. Speak Inglesa; berrah clebber. Nando go with big massa, Lepoko stay with little massa; oh yes! all too fine and jolly."

"Lepoko speaks English, does he?" said Mr. Martindale. "Then you're a liar, Nando!"

"No, sah, me no tell lies, not at all. Lepoko no speak Inglesa all de time, sah. What for two speak Inglesa one time? Too much nise, massa no can hear what Nando say. Nando go, all same; massa muss hab some one can talk. Berrah well; den Lepoko hab go; can talk all right. He show massa what can do."

"One, two, free, forty, hundred fousand," began Lepoko glibly. "Ten little nigger boys. What de good of anyfink? Way down de Swannee ribber——"

"That'll do, that'll do!" cried Mr. Martindale, laughing. "You've got your interpreter, Jack. Nando, get ready to start. Bring nine men with you, the rest will stay with Mr. Jack. The fellow was hankering after the flesh-pots of Boma, I suppose," he added, when Nando had gone, "and that accounts for his sudden discovery of his brother's eloquence—too jealous of his own importance to give it away before. Now there's Barney, Jack. I don't know how he'll take being left here."

Barney took it very well. When Mr. Martindale mentioned that he would be absent for at least two months, he remarked—

"Bedad, sorr, I'll be getting fat at last. Imbono sent another heap of maniac this morning, and seeing that I'll have nothing whativer to do for two months, sure I'll be a different man entirely by the time you come back."

An hour later the shore was crowded with natives come to bid the white man farewell. Imbono was there with all the men of his village. At his final interview with Mr. Martindale he had promised to watch carefully over the welfare of his young blood brother; he would supply him and his men with food, and defend him from wild beasts and aggressive black men, and his villagers should at once set about building new huts for the party.

"Remember, Jack, patience—and tact. God bless you, my boy."

"Good-bye, uncle. Hope you'll have a pleasant journey. And on the way down keep an eye lifting for Samba."

Then the ten natives struck the water with their paddles, the canoe glided down the stream, and as it disappeared round a bend of the river Jack heard the men's voices uplifted in a new song composed for the occasion.

"What are they singing, Lepoko?" he asked of his new interpreter.

"Me tell massa.

"Down brown ribber,
Broad brown ribber,
White man go
In canoe.
Good-bye, Ilola,
Good-bye, Imbono,
Good-bye, Jacko,
Brave Jacko,
Young Jacko.
He save Imbono,
Lucky Imbono;
Down brown ribber
White man go."