Chapter Twenty.
In the Forest.
Our heroes were encamped within the “umbrageous wilderness,” as Ned had named it.
A howling wilderness they discovered it to be, where constant vigilance had to be exercised, and thinkers-out of verbose phrases had no place.
Each moment of the day and night they had to be on the qui vive, for it swarmed with hostile enemies, both human, inhuman, and climatical. It was lovely in its tropic luxuriance and lushness. They cut their path through a labyrinth of juicy greens and vegetable parasites which untravelled Europeans see only in the hothouses of their botanic gardens. Great trunks festooned with tendrils rose and spread over their heads hundreds of feet. They were able only at rare intervals to see the lower limbs, for all above was so interlaced and covered, that an everlasting twilight of green reigned even on the brightest day.
Sometimes a slender shaft of sunlight penetrated to the canopy over them and illumined a patch of leaves, making them gleam like old stained glass, but that was all they saw of the sun. As for moon or stars, they were perpetually shut out from these secluded glens and avenues.
Round, as above them, the same mystical shadow prevailed. They could see an intricacy of snaky rope work and leaves intermingling, the creepers crossing and recrossing in all directions as they drooped or sprung up from the dank undergrowth, or threw themselves from tree to tree in bewildering arches. Through these tough tendrils they were forced to cut their path.
The compass was their only guide, and Ned carried it in his hand and kept his eyes upon it constantly while they were on the march.
Under their feet they squashed through oozy slime and rank vegetation, or tripped over spreading roots. They skirted deadly looking pools, black, and suggestive of unknown horrors where the fluid was visible. This was, they knew, only visible when it had been disturbed by the monsters who made it their noisome lair. The other portions were covered with flowering reeds and treacherous emerald bright grasses.
There were paths intersecting this malarious dankness, some worn by human feet, others trampled by the ravenous beasts with which the forest teemed.
They passed well-made, fresh-cut, and straight paths at times, but they did not use these tempting ways, for they knew the traps which they led to, as well as they knew that murderous eyes were watching them from the closely woven thickets and impenetrable canopy that covered them.
They crossed streams where the clear water ran noisily over sandy shallows or flowed smoothly beneath waving leaves. Sometimes the ground became elevated and rocky, then again it dipped into dark hollows that made them shudder at what lay below them. At times they had to surmount precipices and listen to cataracts thundering down unknown depths. At times they drew back with horror at the covered edges of inky chasms.
At night the blackness was palpable, except when it was rent up by the most vivid lightning-flashes and appalling thunder-peals. Then they heard all round them the splitting of limbs and crashing of giant trees which had been struck, while the tornado shrieked high up and the rain poured down solidly.
The atmosphere was as airless, moist, and sultry as that within a Turkish bath. Whether they walked or stood during the day they were always wet with perspiration and gasping for breath. At night cold exhalations rose from the slimy soil and chilled them to the marrow.
It was the dry season, or none of them could have survived this march. Yet it is never dry in those forests.
In the mornings the densest of fogs shrouded everything, and clung to them like a vast grey muffler. This entered their lungs and nearly choked them with its thickness and heavy effluvia. While it lay round nothing stirred. Nature seemed dead, animal and insect life asleep; a weird and ominous hush brooded over the scene like the sombre stillness of a grave. They were entombed and spell-bound with the universal and dim death-silence.
When this vapour dispersed, the labyrinth would suddenly start into life and swarm with motion and sounds. Birds would shriek at the welcome light, baboons chatter and swing themselves aloft with merry and noisy antics; butterflies would flutter and gleam with gorgeous colours as they sported through the open spaces.
Swarms of fierce mosquitoes and other venomous insects buzzed and flew about, stinging viciously. Ants dropped down their necks or rushed up their trousers in countless hordes and with maddening effect. These tormentors never left them alone day or night. Under the deadly bite of the tsetse fly their most seasoned horses fell one by one, and had to be left behind before they had gone very far. This, however, did not discourage them, and when they came to the rock climbing they felt they were better without these poor beasts.
All night long the forest resounded with the roaring, trumpeting, and other strange cries of wild beasts, while round their fires they could see at times an outer circle of flaming phosphorescent eyes. During the day they could see sometimes what they took to be a stout tendril or limb detach itself from the tree and glide noiselessly out of their path. Sometimes also what they thought was a mud-covered log in their path would suddenly gape horribly at them, showing serrated rows of gleaming teeth inside the ugly long snout, while the seedy monster wallowed ponderously into the turbid bog.
These were only a few of the countless perils which beset them every foot of their leafy journey. The reptile, animal, and insect world encompassed them with as deadly intent as the noxious vapours. But what they had to look out for and dread more than these were the human savages who infested and disputed the upper branches with the man-like apes.
But our heroes were resolute, and held on undauntedly day after day. They kept to one course with the dogged perseverance of Englishmen, and their followers followed after them with blind confidence.
The wild beasts and savages they scared with their gunpowder and bullets. The malaria they fought with their medicine-chest. The insect pests they endured with philosophy.
They went along happy and fearlessly, for it was their nature to enjoy danger and exertion. Their youth, buoyant spirits, and cheerful confidence not only supported them, but inspired their followers with the same fortitude, while their pure constitutions, unimpaired by any excess, rendered them almost invulnerable to the insidious grip of the fever. In this their patrons had made no mistake. Where older men would have succumbed they passed on unscathed.
“I tell you what, boys, I call this jolly fine experience, and I consider us lucky to have it,” cried Ned one night, as he carefully took a bead at one of a pair of glowing green eyes which were shining out of the darkness.
He fired, and immediately a wild stampede took place from all sides with thunderous roarings, while a bulky body leapt into the firelight and rolled over, clawing the ground in its death-throes.
He had made no false aim this time, but had brought down a well-developed leopard.
“A pity we cannot take those skins with us. The people outside won’t believe in our stories when we have nothing to show on our return. But we cannot cart any more luggage. Never mind, we have something to boast about all the same, whether we are credited or not, when we get back.”
“If we get back,” murmured Clarence, gloomily.
Since his knock on the head by the Boers, Clarence had suffered now and again from depressed spirits. The organ of hope must have been damaged somehow on that occasion. At the present moment, however, he had a touch of malarial fever, which always makes one feel very morbid and despairing.
“Hallo, Clarence!” cried Ned. “I see you require some more quinine. Never mind, old fellow, we shall soon be out of this swamp; then you will be all right.”
No one paid any attention to the dead leopard as yet. They had grown used to incidents of this sort, therefore felt little excitement. However, seeing that it was a magnificent specimen, and appeared jet black as it lay stretched out, Cocoeni rose and went over to skin it. While he was so engaged, the others kept a close watch over him with their guns, ready to shoot any covetous molester. As they watched the thickets round, they could see dark forms gliding about. These were wolves and hyenas waiting to devour the carcase when Cocoeni was done with it.
From all sides resounded the howlings, sharp cries, and vibrating roarings of hungry animals on the prowl. These never ceased all through the night.
Neither did the everlasting and varied croaking of the frogs, that kept up an increasing chorus, running up and down the scale of notes, from the deep bass of the bull to the reed-like treble of the tender froglet. Through this orchestra sounded the irritating and brisk humming of the indefatigable mosquitoes. As Ned remarked merrily, “No one could feel lonely while this concert went on.”
They had no stint of fresh meat, for as they camped mostly where they found a running stream, the beasts generally had their choice of the menagerie as they came down to drink. Sometimes they would pot a fine young elephant or a hippopotamus, while they could always rely upon some variety of the antelope family for their larder.
Each morning and night Ned served out regularly to each man two grains of quinine. If any showed symptoms of fever, he repeated this mild dose every half-hour until they were better. Clarence had been under this treatment for the past two days.
“How much longer do you think we shall be in this earthly paradise?” asked Fred, as he brought his Metford up to his shoulder, and took a careful aim to the left of where Cocoeni was kneeling.
Ned waited until the bullet had sped on its deadly mission, then he answered—
“Not many days now, I reckon, Fred. We have been gradually ascending for the last day and a half, as you may know from the more solid state of the soil under our feet. That stream also, which has kept with us, shows that it comes from high lands by its speed. I expect we shall have some climbing to do very soon; then we shall begin to see the sun and have a breath of clear air.”
“Where are you going to, baas?” asked Cocoeni, who had finished his skinning, and now returned to his place by the blazing fire. He spread the hide on the ground, and flung himself upon it as he spoke.
“Straight ahead, wherever that may take us to,” answered Ned. “We will keep a bee-line as much as possible until we discover something worth reporting. This course is out of the ordinary track, as any one can tell from the absence of humans; so that we are sure to find out something new.”
“Plenty humans by-and-by, you bet, baas; more than you may care to meet.”
“Still we shall go on, Cocoeni, as far as we can. We shall be friendly with them, and spare them all we can; but if we have to fight, then we must do so.”
“That all right, baas. Go ahead, and we will follow, never fear.”
Ned knew this without one of his men assuring him. There wasn’t one of them who would turn and leave him in the lurch. They were all picked fighters as well as hunters, whose glory and occupation had been battle from their boyhood, while their pastime was the chase. The oldest man amongst them was not yet twenty-eight, while the others ranged from eighteen upwards to that glorious period of manhood and strength. They were also all tall fellows, belonging to the Matabele and Basuto races, who were absolutely fearless and disdainful of death in any aspect. They were devoted friends of Rhodes, who had won their fealty by courage, and their devotion by kindness afterwards. None would have turned back if they could, but now retreat was impossible, even if any would have entertained such a thought. Each man carried his own share of the load. In this duty our heroes also took their equal part, for these men were men-at-arms, not henchmen.
They had cleared an open space, and made a huge fire in the centre, round which all now lay, except those appointed to keep watch and attend to the fire.
High above, the smoke roared and filtered through the canopy of leafage. For a dozen yards on either side the ruddy flames lit up the massy trunks, tendrils, and drooping leaves which hemmed them in, with the fringe of close undergrowth which gave solidity to the thickets.
They were camped near the bank of a torrent that rushed with impetuous force over rocks, foaming and swirling over and round these impediments, and covering the deep pools with curds and bubbles. This was the most cheerful sound of the many that filled their ears, and it lulled them to sleep. They had come upon it the day before, and as it was in their course, they had kept as close to it as they could.
By-and-by only the watchers were awake, among whom stood Fred, with his rifle ready for emergencies. He, with Ned, had enjoyed perfect health since the start; only Clarence gave them any uneasiness.
He was lying now on three folds of skins stretched face upwards, with his mouth open, and very wan and sallow. Fred occasionally looked at him with tender anxiety. He also attended to giving him his medicine regularly. Doubtless he would be all right when they got out of this fever-infested valley. He was still able to keep up with them, although he had not carried anything for the past two days.
While Fred was looking at his sleeping friend and listening to the forest outcry, all at once he was startled by the most furious bellowing and hoarse shrieking, accompanied by the crashing and tearing of some huge body bursting through the thicket.
Instantly his rifle was at his shoulder, and the barrel pointed in the direction of the advancing turmoil.
Nor had he many seconds to wait before he saw a buffalo, with a leopard on his neck, rushing at full speed along the open avenue which they had made in coming straight towards their camp.
He fired instantly, as did also the other watchers, and before they could get in second shots, the infuriated beasts had thundered past them into the other side of the forest. The buffalo had swerved aside at sight of the fire, and passed just within a couple of feet of where Cocoeni lay stretched on his new skin. As the pair rushed past, Fred had a passing glimpse of the red blood glistening ruddily on the sides of the bull as it gushed out of his wounds.
Fred calmly reloaded and stood once more at attention, for this was but one of many such incidents which might be expected before the morning fog rose and enveloped them.