"Well," said Nares reflectively, "I almost think you're right. Still, he may, after all, have something different in his mind. As you said, we could probably hold the hut, and we are not out of the village yet."
Ormsgill seemed to smile. "In that case," he said, "he may have reason to be sorry he ever entertained a notion of that kind."
CHAPTER XVII
THE AMBUSCADE
A thin crescent moon hung low in the western sky when they slipped out into the sleeping village, and shadowy huts and encircling forest were dimly distinguishable. The place was very silent, and though the negro as a rule sleeps lightly no one appeared in a doorway, and no voice was raised to challenge them. In fact, Nares, who walked beside his comrade with his heart beating a good deal faster than usual, felt the silence almost oppressive, for he was conscious that it might at any moment be rudely broken. He had very little confidence in the dusky Headman, and knew that if treachery was intended they were affording him the opportunity he probably desired.
Now and then there was a faint clatter and jingle of arms, and at times the soft patter of naked feet in the trampled dust was flung back with what appeared to be a startling distinctness by the huts they passed, but there was no other sound, and the boys flitted steadily on, a line of vague, shadowy figures, in front of him. Then he drew a deep breath of relief as they left the village behind them and plunged into the gloom of the forest. He looked back a moment towards the clustering huts which rose faintly black against the dim bush, and wondered how the Headman would explain matters to his Suzerain on the morrow. That, however, was the Headman's affair, and Nares fancied he would be equal to the occasion, since the negro is usually a very shrewd diplomatist.
By and by the darkness beneath the trees grew a little less intense, and they came out on the brink of a morass. It stretched away before them smeared with drifting wisps of sour white steam, and it was not astonishing that they halted and looked at it apprehensively. An African swamp is not, as a rule, considered impassable so long as one does not sink beyond the hips in it, and there are places where British forest officers flounder through them more or less cheerfully for days together, but it is, for all that, a thing the average white man has a natural shrinking from. Ormsgill significantly tapped the rifle he now carried before he exchanged a few words with their guide.
"He says we can get through, but I'll take the precaution of walking close beside him," he said to Nares. "It's an excellent rule in this country not to let your guide get too far in front of you."
They went in, and the tall grass near the verge crackled about them as they sank in the plastic mire out of which they could scarcely drag their feet. It was a little easier where there was only foul slime and water, and in places there were signs of a path, that is, they could see where somebody else had floundered through the quaggy waste of corruption. The smell was a thing to shudder at, but they were all of them more or less used to that, and the emanations of such places do not invariably prostrate the white man who is accustomed to the country. In some cases, at least, the results of inhaling them only appear some time afterwards, but there are very few white men who escape them altogether.
In due time they came out, bemired from head to foot, with scum and slimy water draining from them, and they diffused sour odors as they once more plunged into the forest which just there was permeated with the sickly scent of lilies. Still, it was a consolation to Ormsgill that they had, at least, left nobody behind, and he acquired a certain confidence in their guide. They pushed on for most of the night, smashing and hacking a way through creepers, and stumbling in loose white sand, and at last came out upon a well beaten trail. The negro who crawled up and down it said that Domingo had not reached that spot yet, but Ormsgill did not content himself with his assurance. With difficulty, he made a little fire and while it flickered feebly stooped over the loose sand. Then he stamped it out before he turned to Nares.