Samba: A Story of the Rubber Slaves of the Congo

by Herbert Strang

CHAPTER XX

David and Goliath

Next morning Jack's men found resting against the stone wall of the fort several barrels of resin which had not burned. The bumping they had received in rolling down the slope had shaken out the fuses. This was a lucky discovery. The inflammable contents of the barrels would come in useful—for making fireballs, if for no other purpose. Jack had them carried into the fort and stored in the magazine.

Very soon after daybreak Jack saw what seemed to be the greater portion of Elbel's force moving up the hill. He counted at least five hundred men, and noticed that only about a hundred of these were riflemen, the remainder carrying spears, or tools of some kind.

"You see what they are at, Barney?" he said.

"Shifting their camp, by what it appears, sorr."

"No, I don't think that's it. Elbel has failed with fire; he's now going to try water. He's going to cut off our water supply."

"Sure he's entitled to, as we don't pay rates, which is rubber. But we can do widout his water supply, sorr, having a private distillery uv our own."

"I'm pretty sure I'm right, for you see the men are going a great deal farther up the hill than they need if they're merely looking for another base of attack."

"Bedad, why shouldn't we have a little rifle practice at 'em, sorr? 'Tis long range firing, indeed, but mighty good practice."

"No. Our ammunition is too precious to be wasted; and even if we hit a few of them, that wouldn't stop Elbel's scheme, whatever it is. We'll keep our eye on the river and see if there's any shrinkage."

It was not until late in the afternoon that he got positive proof that Elbel was in fact diverting the stream. He had fancied for some time that the height of the water was less, but only about four o'clock did the fall become decided. After that, however, the stream dwindled very rapidly, until, towards nightfall, there was only a thin trickle of water in the river bed below the fort, where in the morning the stream had been twenty feet broad and nearly six feet deep. At the same time a remarkable change in the appearance of the country east of the fort had attracted the attention of the natives, who swarmed upon the platform on that side and gazed in amazement. Lokolobolo had brought water into their camp; but who had made water run in a swift river where no river had ever been before?

Nearly a mile away to the east, a broad shallow stream was rushing down the slope that extended from the precipice on which the fort stood to the foothills two miles beneath. The river, dammed no doubt by boulders far up the hill, had now been forced into the course which, but for a rocky barrier, it would long since have discovered for itself.

"A very pretty scheme, bedad!" said Barney. "And I just wish we could set a fountain going, like those in Trafalgar Square, just to show Mr. Elbel that he may have his river all to himself if he pleases."

"That wouldn't do at all, Barney. We don't want to flaunt our good fortune. In fact, our best course is to keep Elbel in the dark. Indeed I think we had better stop that overflow from our tank. Now that the cataract has dried up, the overflow would easily be seen."

"But what'll we do wid the overflow, sorr? Sure, we don't want a flood in the camp!"

"Certainly not. We'll break it up into a number of tiny trickles, and let them find their way through the wall at different points. They'll be sucked up or disappear before they reach the ground below."

"Bedad, now, I would niver have thought of that! Mr. Elbel will think we get our water from heaven, sorr, if he's iver heard uv it."

The work of damming the river having been accomplished, the main body of the enemy marched down just before dark and regained their camp. As they passed within earshot of the fort, Elbel's negroes could not refrain from flinging taunts at the men of their colour within the walls, telling them that they could no longer cook their food, much less wash their babies. This made the men very angry; they prepared to blaze away with their rifles at the gibing enemy, and Jack's command to drop their weapons might, perhaps, for once have been disregarded had not Samba suddenly struck up the song which one of the men had composed, chronicling Lokolobolo's great deeds with water and fire:

Lokolobolo
In Ilombekabasi
Dug a great hole,
Filled it with waters
Great is his magic!
How can we praise him—
Lokolobolo?
Lo! Elobela
Came with the fire tubs
To Ilombekabasi.
But the Inglesa
Lokolobolo
Filled a pot with the fire-stuff.
What a noise!
What a smoke!
Fire tubs are broken.
Ha! Elobela!
Where is your fire now?
What is the good of you?
Inglesa's magic
No one can master.
Is it fire?
Is it water?
Lokolobolo
In Ilombekabasi
Quenches the fire,
Keeps water for black men.
Ha! Elobela,
Go home to your cook-pot.
No good in this land,
In Ilombekabasi.

The song was taken up one by one by the people, and in the delight of singing Lokolobolo's praise and Elobela's shame, the jeers of the negroes outside were forgotten.

That night Elbel posted no regular pickets round the fort. He had clearly given up the idea of a strict blockade, which was indeed impossible with the force at his command; but except for the desire to mask his own movements, he lost nothing by the withdrawal of his pickets, for even if the garrison took advantage of it to issue from the fort, they could make little use of their freedom in a country bare of supplies. Jack did not doubt that Elbel had many scouts abroad, and would be on the watch for an attempt to obtain water. He would imagine that none was procurable save from a distance of at least half a mile from the fort, and was doubtless already congratulating himself on the success of his strategy.

Several days passed, and life went on in the camp as peacefully as though no enemy was near. The women performed their daily tasks of cleaning and cooking; the men drilled and exercised; the children amused themselves as children always can. Jack took it into his head to teach them some of the round games popular with English children, knowing that the elders were sure to copy them; and every little novelty tended to amuse them and keep them cheerful. Indeed, he found the men so like children in their capacity for finding easy amusement, that one day he started a game of leap-frog for them, and soon the whole camp was hilarious, the men springing over one another's backs all round the enclosure with great shouts of laughter.

As Jack expected, Elbel kept a sharp watch by means of scouts all round the fort, to ensure that no water reached the besieged. Jack smiled as he pictured the Belgian's amazement, when day after day went by without any sign of distress. Now that the regular night pickets were removed, some of Jack's men found it easy to get out for little scouting expeditions; and except for an occasional brush between men of the two forces employed in this duty, there was nothing to show that four hundred men on the one side, and seven hundred on the other, were engaged in deadly warfare. In these duels the men of Ilombekabasi invariably came off best. They were at home equally in the forest and the plain; the enemy were for the most drawn from the Lower Congo—an inferior type of negro and less used to fighting in wooded districts. And a long immunity had rendered them careless. They were accustomed to see whole villages panic-stricken at the sight of an Albini rifle. They had had no need to cultivate the art of scouting, except in tracking runaways; nor even the higher kind of marksmanship; for it was their practice to tie their victim to a tree before shooting: in this way the State or the Concessionary Company was saved ammunition. Indeed, one cartridge was frequently sufficient to account for two or more men, women, or children, if they were tied up with due regard for the convenience of the marksman. It was a new and very disconcerting experience to meet men of their own colour who were not afraid of them, and they did not easily adapt themselves to the new condition of things.

For this work of scouting Jack had found no man yet to match Samba. The boy seemed to be endowed with a sixth sense, for he went safely in the most dangerous places, returned more quickly than the rest, and brought more information. And though he soon made himself expert with the rifle presented him by Jack after the buffalo hunt, he never took it with him on these scouting trips, preferring to go unencumbered. He relied on his knife.

One morning, when Jack was awakened as usual by Barney, he noticed a very comical look on the Irishman's face.

"Anything happened?" he said.

"Bedad, sorr, I didn't mean to tell ye till ye were dressed. What d'ye think that little varmint has done now?"

"Samba? No mischief, I hope."

"Mischief, begorra! Just after daybreak, whin you were sound asleep, sorr, and I was going the rounds as usual, Mboyo calls to me from the wall, and whin I comes up to 'm, there he is hauling like the divil on the rope. 'Samba must be getting fat like me,' says I to meself, lending a hand, 'for sure the boy will not need such a mighty big haul.' Mboyo jabbered away, but I couldn't understand him. And then, sorr, up comes a villainous ugly head, followed by a body ten times the size of Samba's, and a big nigger comes over, almost choked with a new kind uv necklace he was wearing, and shaking with the most terrible fright mortal man was iver in. Mboyo lets down the rope again, and up comes Samba, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"'Me hab catch,' says he. 'Catch what?' says I. 'Begorra!' says he, 'bont'one!'[[1]] Which was Dutch to me, sorr, only he pointed to the nigger. 'Catch him?' says I. He nodded his head till I thought 'twould break off. 'Ku?'[[2]] says I. 'Nyango!'[[3]] says he; and thin I laughed, sorr, 'cos the idea uv a boy taking prisoner a man ten times his size——"

"Draw it mild, Barney."

"True, sorr, he doesn't look quite so big as he did. I wished to wake ye at once, but Samba said no, he'd keep the prisoner safe till your usual time, and here he is, sorr, and the prisoner too."

Jack had been putting on his clothes while Barney spoke. Leaving the hut he saw Samba holding one end of the tendril of a creeper, the other end being looped about the neck of a tall strong negro. Jack listened patiently, and with the aid of many questions, was able to piece out his story.

Creeping in the darkness up the dry river bed some distance from the fort, Samba had seen for a moment the form of a man dimly silhouetted against the starlit sky. Then the man disappeared; but it was child's play to find him again, for he made his way into the channel and moved slowly down towards the fort. He had a rifle, and was head and shoulders taller than Samba; but neither his strength nor his weapon was to avail him against the ingenuity and cat-like agility of his young enemy.

It would have been easy for Samba to stalk him and make an end of him with the knife; but a brilliant idea occurred to the boy: how much better to capture him and take a living prisoner to the fort! For two hours Samba kept in touch with him, never more than a few yards away, yet never by the slightest sound betraying his presence. At last the man found a position above the fort which satisfied him, for he established himself there, apparently intending to wait for the dawn.

Samba felt sure that when he moved to regain his own camp he would retrace his steps up stream. To go down would bring him within view of the fort. His course would be to ascend the channel and fetch a wide circuit back to his own people.

Samba acted quickly on this assumption. As silently as a shadow he glided past the man until, some distance up the channel, groping on the bank, he came across a tough creeper. From this he cut off three or four yards of a pliant tendril, and with deft fingers made a slip-knot at one end. Then he went again down stream, and made his way to a rock overhanging the left bank, whence he had many a time speared fish while the fort was being built. On this rock he lay at full length, ready to move at the slightest sign of the negro stirring.

When dawn broke Samba saw that the man was staring intently at the fort. After a prolonged examination he turned, and, as Samba expected, moved up the gully, keeping under the left bank to avoid observation from the walls. Slowly and cautiously he picked his way upward, little recking of the lithe form stretched like a panther on the rock above. He was passing the rock, the rifle in his left hand, the right hand assisting his wary steps over the rugged channel, when the lasso curled gently over his head; a short vigorous tug, and the man, dropping his rifle and clutching at the strangling cord around his throat, was pulled backward on to the rocky side of the gully. Samba had marked where the rifle fell, and leapt nimbly down. Before the negro, wriggling to his feet, had succeeded in loosing the terrible noose, Samba was at his side, the Albini in his hand.

The suddenness of the onset and the shock of his fall had robbed the man of all power of action. When Samba said that he must either accompany him to Ilombekabasi or be shot, he saw no third course and accepted the first. Perhaps he was tired of his service with Elobela; perhaps he was curious to see the village of the wonderful Lokolobolo; certainly he was very much afraid of being shot. So he made no resistance, but went quickly down the gully, a step or two in advance of Samba, who carried the rifle, as he did not fail to remind his captive from time to time.

Through Lepoko Jack questioned the man. He showed no reluctance to answer; no wish to conceal his employer's purposes. Esprit de corps, Jack surmised, was a sentiment not cultivated on the Congo. The prisoner confessed that Elobela exulted in the belief that within a few days the fort would be compelled to surrender by lack of water. And he had promised his men an orgy when the surrender should take place. Not a soul should be spared. There were man-eaters among his force, and they were looking forward to a choice banquet; many young and tender children frolicked in Ilombekabasi.

Jack felt himself turn pale as he heard this. The facts were coming home to him. The thought that little Bakota, the chubby boy whom Barney employed to wash dishes, or little Ilangala, the girl whom the same indefatigable factotum had taught to darn his socks, might fall into the hands of these ruthless cannibals, to be torn limb from limb, and sacrificed to their brutal appetites, kindled emotion within him much more poignant than the mere report that such things had happened in the collection of rubber on the Congo, somewhere, at some time.

He dismissed the man under guard, and went to his hut, wishing to be alone. An hour or two later Lepoko came to him; the prisoner had given more information.

"Him say, sah, big massa lib for come back up ribber. Him say Elobela no let massa come to Ilombekabasi; catch him, sah."

Here was a new source of uneasiness and anxiety. Jack had longed for his uncle's return; now he almost wished that something had happened to prevent his departure. Already he had had such proofs of Elbel's vindictive and unscrupulous temper that he dreaded what might happen should Mr. Martindale fall into his hands. But for the moment he saw no means of warning his uncle, and he tried to crush his fears and forebodings.

During the next few days several of Elbel's scouts were killed or wounded by Jack's men, who had so far been wonderfully successful in escaping injury. One man of the enemy who was brought in wounded confirmed the first prisoner's statement that the Inglesa was said to be on his way. The river was being watched at various points of its course, and Jack recognized the hopelessness of attempting to evade these sentinels and give his uncle timely warning.

Ten days had passed since the stream had been diverted, and the last captured scout said that Elobela was growing very impatient. He could not understand how the fort had been able to hold out so long. Every day he expected to see a flag of truce hoisted, and to receive a message asking for the terms of surrender. One evening another scout was captured, and from him Jack learnt that his secret had at last been partially discovered. Angry at being so long baulked, Elbel had determined to find out the source whence the defenders obtained the water he knew they must have. He sent out scouts for this express purpose. One of them, creeping up the bed of the stream below the southern face of the fort, had discovered that the precipice, which from a distance looked dry, was running with water, and that a thin stream was trickling into the gully. The ground had gradually become saturated, and the overflow, which had at first disappeared into the earth, was now making itself only too visible. When the discovery was reported to Elbel, he concluded that there must be a spring within the fort. Great was his fury at having wasted so much time and labour fruitlessly. In his anger he declared that the defenders should have plenty of water in future.

"What did he mean by that?" asked Jack.

The man did not know. Elobela did not tell all his purposes to the black men.

The very next morning it was observed that a large body of men was again on the move up the hill. Jack hurried to the top of the north-west blockhouse and followed the movements through his field-glass. This time an even larger force was engaged than had been previously employed to dam the stream. Two parties, riflemen and spearmen, numbering in all, as he estimated, nearly six hundred, were marching up the heights. Clearly some new work was to be undertaken, and it must be of no little magnitude. There were no signs of preparation for an immediate attack. The troops continued their upward march for at least a mile. Then Jack was surprised to see them set to work rolling boulders down the hill towards the slope at the north-east of the fort and the new course of the river. Whatever the scheme was, it involved a great deal of labour, for the whole day was spent upon it, and still the parties of workers had made but small progress down the hillside. It became clear to Jack that the supply of boulders lower down had been used up in constructing the dam. More boulders were evidently required, and to procure these Elbel had had to take his men a considerable distance up the hill.

Late in the afternoon the negroes were marched back to camp. As soon as it appeared safe, Jack sent Samba out to ascertain what had been done. When he came back he reported that a large quantity of stones had been collected near the dam, and that though the main body had returned to their camp, there were still several large parties engaged in hauling boulders nearly a mile away from this point.

Jack could form no idea of what Elbel's plan was; but it seemed to him that in any case the time had come to meet it with a counterstroke. For hours that night he sat with Barney discussing every means of striking a blow that occurred to him; but he came to no decision. A stand-up fight in the open was impossible; there could only be one end to that, outnumbered as Jack was in riflemen by nearly five to one, and at present the enemy's movements did not suggest to him any opportunity for stratagem.

Next morning he stood with Barney at the wall, watching the enemy as once more they marched up to the scene of the previous day's work. As usual, he did his best to count them—no easy matter, for the men did not march in orderly ranks like a disciplined regiment, but either in small groups or in several long files.

"Elbel is getting impatient," remarked Jack at last. "He wants to hurry up that work of his, for I make out that he is taking over fifty more men up to-day."

"Sure there can't be more than fifty left in camp, sorr."

"I suppose not. That's rather risky," he added thoughtfully—"in an enemy's country, Barney."

"Would you be meaning to go for them, sorr?" returned Barney, his eyes lighting up. "Bedad, I'd rejoice in that same. I haven't told ye, sorr, but many's the time I've felt I should just go raging mad if I had to stay in this camp much longer. 'Tis all very safe and comfortable, sorr, but 'tis a prison all the same, and there's no man on earth likes to be caged up less than an Irishman."

"D'you think we could do it, Barney? The camp is only about half a mile below us; Elbel's men are a mile above, some at least a mile and a half. Could we rush the camp before the main body could be brought to its relief?"

"Say 'tis two miles between 'em as the crow flies; they could run that in twelve minutes widout distressing themselves."

"But they couldn't take the shortest road, because that would bring them under fire from our walls. The distance would be a good deal more than two miles. And we should have to cover half that distance to the camp and back, the return journey up hill. It doesn't leave much margin, Barney."

"Five minutes at the very most, sorr. But a man can do a power uv fighting in five minutes."

"Let us think it out carefully. We mustn't throw away all our success by a mad enterprise now. We oughtn't to weaken the defensive strength here much, for Elbel has such numbers that he could afford to lose a few in storming."

"And we needn't, sorr. 'Tis not numbers that will count in rushing the camp; 'tis dash, sorr, and ivery man together."

"That's quite true. And I think our men will work together better than Elbel's. But there's a very serious difficulty—that outpost of his half-way between us and his camp. It's the only post he has kept up permanently, and now it's a nuisance to us."

He referred to a couple of men stationed at the edge of a copse to the west of the stream. They were screened by rocks, and from their position they could see the blockhouses and the tops of the huts, and keep the west and south quarters of the fort under fairly strict observation.

"You see, they would instantly detect any movement of ours down the hill; and by the time we got to the camp the enemy would be on the qui vive."

"There's only wan thing to be done, sorr."

"Well?"

"Shut the eyes and the ears and the mouths uv the niggers at the outpost."

"All very well; but they're too well screened to be shot at, and killing them is the only way to destroy all their senses. Besides, it would be madness to fire. The sound would alarm the enemy and spoil our plans."

"'Twas not meself that thought uv firing at all at all, sorr. I was thinking uv Samba."

"Samba! What can he do?"

"Sure and I don't know no more than the dead, or I'd tell it you meself, sorr. But Samba's the ould wan himself at schaming; will I fetch him?"

"Certainly. We'll see if he can do anything. Hurry up!"

[[1]] This man.

[[2]] Are you speaking the truth?

[[3]] Mother!—the strongest affirmative.