On carefully searching the public building, however, the whole of the “People of the Stick” were found tightly bound in the condemned cell, which was fastened from outside. The poor creatures were almost dead with thirst and starvation, having been locked up for over four days. They soon, however, revived under friendly treatment, and then, calling up the interpreter, our anxious friends listened to their moving tale.
As a matter of fact, however, these men had very little to tell beyond saying that the very night the main body had left Equatoria they had been visited by an ancient man, the biggest Forest Fetish in those parts, and called by him to a “great dance” in the common hall, which was well lighted by priests holding torches in their hands.
He had delivered a long harangue to the “People of the Stick” regarding the gifts they were to send him from their own country, and after this the unfortunate audience heard no more, their senses gradually leaving them under the subtle influence of the smoke from the torches, which made the air heavy with a curious pungent odour. But though the men could neither move nor exercise the faculties of sight or hearing, each realised that he was being fettered and carried away, whilst he gradually yielded to an overpowering desire to sleep. Naught knew they of the Fetish beyond the fact that his habitation was somewhere in the dense and tangled forest of the east, into whose dark avenues no mortal man dare venture, for they were the home of ghosts and spirits, and the haunts of snakes, and wolves, and many evil things.
It was, of course, too late to make any move that night; so, after roundly cursing the ill-luck which had brought this latest misfortune upon them, the tired wayfarers ate their supper, set a watch, and then lay down to snatch a few hours’ rest before the dawn.
The earliest gleam of daylight saw Grenville afoot, and with Kenyon, the Zulus, and a couple of hundred Mormons, he commenced to quarter the forest in every direction. Fearful work this was, for the place was simply a tangled and practically impenetrable jungle, upon which even the axes of the party made little impression. For three whole days did the little band prosecute their arduous search, returning to Equatoria each night utterly worn out with their fruitless and cruel labour.
On the third night, when Grenville, thinking sadly upon the unknown fate of his much-loved cousin, supposed his friend Kenyon to be asleep, to his utter astonishment that worthy suddenly shot up to his feet.
“Gods!” he yelled, fairly trembling with excitement. “Gods! I have it. Dick, what cursed fools we’ve been—how could those priests have taken bound and stupefied people through these thickets, beyond which our axes cannot carry us. Ten to one in sovereigns, I take you straight to their lair at dawn, old man;” and so he did, never making a single mistake, and a mighty queer place they found it, up amongst the tree-tops.
Entering confidently a great hollow tree which stood about a mile from the town, and on the outskirts of the impenetrable bush, Kenyon triumphantly pointed to a strong rough ladder run up the inside of the giant trunk, and mounting this for near a hundred feet, all found themselves in a fair way to enter the abode of the famous Forest Fetish who dominated the timid natives in those parts, and was had—as is always the case—in even more repute amongst them, on account of his abominable extortions and deeds of violence, than was Muzi Zimba, the Ancient Fetish of the Hills, in consideration of his uniform kindness of soul.
High up upon the interlaced branches of the trees were fastened rough boards, thickly covered with grass matting, and on these, from tree to tree, our adventurers followed for upwards of two miles, a perfectly safe and absolutely silent road, of a uniform width of perhaps five feet, until they penetrated into the sacred presence of the arch-humbug himself. A mighty uproar there was, and a great seizing and brandishing of sacrificial knives and swords, as the first of our friends entered the roomy tree-top, boarded throughout, in which the priests had their semi-aerial domicile. But when these rascals, perhaps thirty or forty in number, saw the whole rescue-party file in, and the grim row of frowning muzzles opening in line with their wretched carcases, the entire band simply flopped down upon their knees, and howled for mercy, the “big man fetish” himself making more noise than anyone.
By great good fortune, poor Leigh, with his wife and child, had been preserved for the occasion of a great fetish dance at next new moon, and were soon found and released, and, as restitution was quickly made of all the plunder stolen from Equatoria, our friends contented themselves with giving the rascals what Kenyon called “a jolly good hiding all round,” and then drove them out of the forest altogether, and set fire to their abominable nest, the dry matting making a fine blaze amongst the tree-tops, out of which it scared the monkeys, parrots, and other legitimate denizens in very large numbers. The simple “People of the Stick” were astonished at the discovery made by their white associates; for the poor fetish-ridden creatures of these parts had been almost harried out of their lives by the priests, who were supposed to dwell invisibly under a tree, in whose upper branches, however, was located their real abode. Under this tree, which could be reached only by a bridle-path from the rear of the belt of forest, the miserable negro would devoutly deposit his offering, and when returning upon his way to Equatoria, and passing near the hollow tree, two miles off, he would probably find the gift which, not unfrequently, comprised his little all, thrown contemptuously in his path, whilst hidden voices admonished the terror-stricken wretch to hurry off, and bring a better offering, unless he wished to have his heart torn out of his body. This, of course, was “very big fetish” to such a superstitious people, and they would do almost anything to propitiate the awful Spirit of the Air. Not content with these thievish tricks, however, the priests slew very many men, stole the women, and generally played the “hanky-panky spiritualist” game to their hearts’ content.