Samba: A Story of the Rubber Slaves of the Congo

by Herbert Strang

A few seconds later Jack seized another moment of excitement to repeat his work on the other side of the canoe. His heart jumped to his mouth as he heard one of the men shout a word of warning; but he maintained his stooping position, thinking there was less chance of detection than if he suddenly moved. In consequence of the water rising in the bottom the second hole was made somewhat higher than the first; and as Jack watched the level of the water gradually creeping up, he felt that the gaps were not large enough to prevent the paddlers from beaching the canoe if they ran into smooth water during the next few minutes. The bark seemed to close up as soon as the axe-head was withdrawn, leaving only as a narrow slit what had been a gaping rent. A glance ahead showed smooth water within a few yards. There might be just time to make two more rapid cuts. He plunged his hand into the water, now some inches deep, and drove the steel with all his force twice into the bottom beneath his feet. As soon as the canoe left the race, the heavy going due to the water that had been shipped would at once be detected, even if none of the paddlers, indeed, should happen to glance down and see the water washing the packages. True, they might suppose that it had come over the sides of the canoe during their recent rough passage; but the mistake must soon be discovered.

Jack saw that there was little chance of the canoe sinking in midstream. What could he do? Was this, apparently his only opportunity, to be lost? He had only a few seconds to decide. He would wait until the leaks were discovered, and the canoe was headed towards the shore. Then if he dived into the river his guards would be torn between two impulses—the one to pursue him, the other to beach the canoe before she sank with them and their stores. To them the situation would be complex; they would waste time in their confusion; and with a sinking canoe beneath them they would scarcely be able to use their rifles.

Things happened almost exactly as Jack expected. When the canoe left the troubled reaches one of the Askari suddenly caught sight of the water slowly rising, and washing from side to side with every stroke of the paddles. "A leak!" he shouted, inferring that a hole had been knocked in the bottom by a rock. The leader at once cried to the men to run for the right bank. Jack's time came as the canoe was swinging round. Rising suddenly from his seat, with a vigorous shove he sent the paddler behind him rolling back upon the next man; he in his turn fell upon the next; until four of the paddlers in the after part of the canoe were floundering in the water, and the frail craft rocked almost gunwale under. The other paddlers were so much occupied in adjusting themselves to the difficulty and preventing the canoe from being swamped that they were hardly aware of what their prisoner was doing until it was too late to prevent him. While the vessel was tilted over, Jack placed one foot on the side farthest from the bank towards which they were paddling, and dived into the river.

The leader of the Askari immediately shouted to the men in the water to pursue him, pointing out the direction in which he had disappeared beneath the surface. He was making for the left bank. Glancing back when he came up, Jack saw that two men were swimming after him, and realized that he was no match for them. He was only a fair swimmer; his pursuers, drawn from one of the riverine villages of the Lower Congo, were as dexterous in the water as they were in the canoe. When Jack became aware that he was being rapidly overhauled, he gripped more tightly the axe-head which he had never let go, resolving to fight to the last rather than suffer recapture. The negroes had divested themselves of their rifles, or had lost these when thrown so suddenly into the river; and even such a clumsy weapon as an axe-head might prove very formidable to unarmed men.

In the excitement, Jack had forgotten all about the constant peril of the Congo—the crocodiles. Straining every nerve, he was wondering whether he should stop swimming before he ran the risk of being completely exhausted, since there seemed little chance of his gaining the opposite bank before his pursuers, when he was startled by a despairing scream behind. The horrible meaning of it flashed upon him; he glanced back; only one swimmer was to be seen, and he was no longer coming towards him; he had turned and with frantic haste was making for the nearest point of the bank. The second man had disappeared; the crocodile had proved a better swimmer than any. Shuddering in every limb, Jack for a moment felt his strength leaving him. As in a nightmare he seemed to see the horrid jaws of crocodiles all round him waiting to tear him limb from limb. But he recovered in a moment; and, still gripping the axe-head, he struck out desperately for the far bank, which was now, indeed, scarcely more distant than the other. He touched the sandy bottom, struggled panting up the bank, and, completely exhausted by the physical and mental strain of this day's events, crawled rather than walked to a spot where he felt himself secure at least from the dreaded reptile. For several minutes he lay with his head upon his arms, so much spent as to be almost careless of what might become of him. But, rousing himself at length, he rose and scanned the river for signs of his late escort. What was his alarm to see them hastening towards him from the opposite bank; three minutes' hard paddling would bring them within reach of him. The sight of them woke Jack fully to his danger; he turned his back on the river and plunged into the thick bushes that came almost to the water's edge, and extended into, the forest behind. With what marvellous quickness, he thought, had the Askari brought their waterlogged vessel to the bank, emptied her of water, and temporarily stopped the leaks! No doubt they had been spurred to their utmost effort by the knowledge of what awaited them if they returned to their commander with the report that the prisoner had escaped them by any means but death.

It was now late in the afternoon. Within three or four minutes the pursuers would have beached the canoe and dashed in pursuit. Jack knew that he must make the most of his few minutes' start. If he could evade them for an hour he would be concealed by the darkness. Already, indeed, it was dim and dusky in the forest shades he had now entered. There was no path; he could but plunge on where the undergrowth seemed thinnest, his general direction being as nearly as he could judge at an obtuse angle with the stream. The Askari would expect him either to follow the river, or to strike directly inland; at least he hoped that the diagonal between these two courses would not occur to them. While daylight lasted his trail would betray him, of course; but even if the men were trained forest trackers the light would in a few minutes be too bad for them to pick up his trail.

In a few minutes he heard muffled shouts behind him. The pursuers had landed. Then all was silent, save for the forest sounds now familiar to him. He moved as cautiously as the necessity for haste permitted, aware that the breaking of a twig, a stumble, any unusual sound, might bring his quick-eared enemy upon his track. But with all his care he could not avoid accidents. Here a branch of cactus would rip a great rent in his thin linen coat, with a sound that set the teeth on edge. There a low-growing creeper would trip him up, so that he fell with a crash headlong, and rose with his face bleeding from a dozen deep scratches. But he kept the axe-head always in his grasp; that was his only defence.

The fall of night found him still pressing resolutely forward; but when he could no longer see to thread his way in the close tangle of vegetation he halted, and became aware that he was dripping wet, and that he had to spend the night, soaked as he was, without shelter in the primeval forest. It would not have been a pleasant prospect even to a native inured to forest travel; the negroes indeed are careful not to be benighted far from their villages. In other circumstances, as black darkness wrapt him round, Jack might have felt not a few tremors; from Samba he had learnt something of the perils of night in densely-wooded places. But he had lately passed through experiences so trying that the visionary terrors of these gloomy depths had no power to trouble him. He sought, however, a suitable tree and climbed out of the reach of prowling beasts, hoping that he would also escape the attentions of leopards and pythons, which made no account of the lower branches.

He had never spent a more uncomfortable night. Insects stung him; caterpillars crawled over him; woodlice worried him. Dozing in spite of these annoyances, he would wake with a start and the nightmare feeling that he was falling, falling helplessly through space. His wet clothes stuck clammily to his skin; he shivered as with ague, his teeth chattered, his head was racked with pain. Stiff and sore from his narrow perch and his cramped position he clung on through the night; and when, after the long darkness, the pale dawn at last stole through the foliage, and he dropped to the ground, he moved like an old man, with aching limbs, unrefreshed, feeling the want of food, yet utterly without appetite.

But he must go on. His enemies had not discovered him; no beast had attacked him; these were positive gains. He could make no plans; all that he could do was to follow a course calculated by the sun to take him in the direction of the river, going up stream. He walked stiffly, but steadily, during the morning, picking here and there handfuls of phrynia berries—the only berries of the forest which he knew to be edible.