Kep smiled at this. Had the sentry only known how near to him Kep was!
By raising a little of the foliage that screened him, the boy could not only hear better, but see the faces of the men as well. One was a bold and peculiarly good-featured man. His sword and sword-belt were bejewelled. He wore a gilded turban, and the huge dark-green cloak that covered him, showed he was a scion of the prophet's. The others addressed him with tokens of great respect, and listened almost in silence to his proposals.
One of these was of so terrible and daring a character that Kep could hardly believe that they were made in earnest, and he shuddered as he listened.
The plot that more immediately concerned Kep was one to get the British cruisers sent off from the equatorial part of the coasts, in order that they might run an immense cargo of slaves from villages far in the interior, and get safely away before they could possibly be discovered.
This chief was well known to the gun-boats and cruisers on the coast. A price had been set on his head. If caught, his would indeed be a short shrift, for he had been guilty of wholesale murder and slaughter.
At this moment he had a fleet of dhows under his command, of which he was admiral; he had a whole army of Arabs and Somalis on shore, of which a brother of his was general; and the two between them had managed to make fools of the British times without number.
Abdularram, as the chief was called, and his brother had been very active lately. The latter had journeyed into the far interior of Africa with his followers. In this wild foray the brother of Abdul had been more than usually fortunate. He had made a détour, and had come to pastures new, swooping down upon defenceless village after defenceless village, laying them waste with fire and sword, and bearing thence the strongest and youngest of the men and women.
These attacks were accompanied by all the horrors incidental to the slave trade, but probably worse even than ever they had been in the older days.
They were worse, for this reason. As a rule, the Arabs do not at once attack primitive villages. They prefer to pretend friendship for the unsuspecting and innocent natives. They follow the same tactics as did the brutal soldiery at the massacre of Glencoe. When they succeed in lulling to sleep every suspicion, and causing the poor blades to believe firmly that the strangers are their friends, then they rise. And for a night or two hell itself seems let loose upon earth. The midnight darkness is lit up by the blazing of the grass huts; in the lurid glare the wild and beautiful scenery, its rolling hills, its waving woods and lakes, look strangely weird; but in the stillness of the night the most heart-rending screams and mournful pleadings for mercy may be heard even miles away, the pop-pop-popping of rifles also, if resistance has been made to the onslaught; if not, sounds that are more sickening still--dull, heavy thuds that speak of brains dashed out and of old men and women lying murdered in cold blood.
But in the present instance there had been no time to form sham friendships with the natives. The attack on each village had been therefore made suddenly, and without warning of any kind. The fighting natives were speedily driven in, the conqueror followed, and the butchery began.