The Gorilla Hunters by R. M. Ballantyne (early readers TXT) 📖

The plan which Jack and Peterkin concocted, while I was engaged in making the interior of our old residence as comfortable as possible, was as follows:—

Scouts were, in the first place, to be sent out that night all over the country, to ascertain the whereabouts of the enemy. Then, when the enemy should be discovered, they were to send back one of their number to report; while the remainder should remain to dog their steps, if need be, in order to ascertain whether Mbango and Okandaga were in their possession, and if so, where they were kept—whether in the midst of the warriors or in their rear.

This settled, the remainder of the warriors of the village were to be collected together, and a speech to be made to them by Jack, who should explain to them that they were to be divided into two bands: all who carried guns to be under the immediate charge of Jack himself; the others, carrying bows and spears, to be placed under me. Peterkin was to act a peculiar part, which will appear in the course of narration.

Having partaken of a hearty supper, we assembled the scouts, and having, through Makarooroo, given them their instructions, sent them away just as the shades of night began to fall. We next caused a huge bonfire to be kindled, and round this all the men of the village assembled, to the extent of several hundreds. The king soon appeared, and mounting the trunk of a fallen tree, made a long speech to his warriors, telling them of the danger that threatened them, in such vivid and lively terms that the greater part of them began to exhibit expressions of considerable uneasiness on their countenances. He then told them of the trouble that we had taken, in order to give them timely warning—whereat they cast upon us looks of gratitude; and after that introduced Jack to them as their commander-in-chief, saying, that as a white man led the enemy, nothing could be better than that a white man should lead them to meet the enemy—whereat the sable warriors gave a shout of satisfaction and approval.

Having been thus introduced, Jack mounted the trunk of the fallen tree, and Makarooroo got up beside him to interpret. He began, like a wise diplomatist, by complimenting King Jambai, and spoke at some length on courage in general, and on the bravery of King Jambai’s warriors in particular; which, of course, he took for granted. Then he came to particulars, and explained as much of his intended movements as he deemed it good for them to know; and wound up by saying that he had three words of command to teach them, which they must learn to understand and act upon that very night. They were, “Forward!” “Halt!” and “Fire!” By saying the first of these words very slow and in a drawling voice, thus, “Forw-a-a-a-a-a-rd!” and the second in a quick, sharp tone, and the third in a ferocious yell that caused the whole band to start, he actually got them to understand and distinguish the difference between the commands, and to act upon them in the course of half an hour.

The drill of his army being thus completed, Jack dismissed them with a caution to hold themselves in readiness to answer promptly the first call to arms; and the king enforced the caution by quietly assuring them that the man who did not attend to this order, and otherwise respect and obey Jack as if he were the king, should have his heart, eyes, and liver torn out, and the rest of his carcass cast to the dogs—a threat which seemed to us very horrible and uncalled for, but which, nevertheless, was received by the black warriors with perfect indifference.

“Now, Mak,” said Jack, as he descended to the ground, “do you come with me, and help me to place sentries.”

“W’at be dat, massa?”

“Men who are placed to guard the village from surprise during the night,” explained Jack.

“Ho! dat be de ting; me know someting ’bout dat.”

“No doubt you do, but I daresay you don’t know the best way to place them; and perhaps you are not aware that the pretty little threat uttered by the king shall be almost carried out in the case of every man who shall be found asleep at his post or who shall desert it.”

The guide grinned and followed his commander in silence, while I returned to our hut and busied myself in cleaning the rifles and making other preparations for the expected fight.

At an early hour on the following morning we were awakened by the arrival of one of the scouts, who reported that the Portuguese trader, with a strong and well-armed force, was encamped on the margin of a small pond about fifteen miles distant from the village. The scout had gone straight to the spot on being sent out, knowing that it was a likely place for them to encamp, if they should encamp at all. And here he found them making active preparations for an attack on the village. Creeping like a serpent through the grass, the scout approached near enough to overhear their arrangements, which were to the elect that the attack should take place at midnight of the following day. He observed that there were many prisoners in the camp—men, women, and children—and these were to be left behind, in charge of a small party of armed men; while the main body, under the immediate command of the Portuguese trader, should proceed to the attack of the village.

From the scout’s description of the prisoners, we became convinced that they were none other than our friends Mbango and his people, and one woman answering to the description of Okandaga was among them.

“So, Mak, we shall save her yet,” cried Jack heartily, slapping the shoulder of the guide, whose honest visage beamed with returning hope.

“Yis, massa. S’pose we go off dis hour and fight ’em?”

“Nay; that were somewhat too hasty a movement. ‘Slow but sure’ must be our motto until night. Then we shall pounce upon our foes like a leopard on his prey. But ask the scout if that is all he has got to tell us.”

“Hims say, massa, dat hims find one leetle chile—one boy—when hims go away from de camp to come back to here.”

“A boy!” repeated Jack; “where—how?”

“In de woods, where hims was trow’d to die; so de scout take him up and bring him to here.”

“Ah, poor child!” said I; “no doubt it must have been sick, and being a burden, has been left behind. But stay. How could that be possible if it was found between the camp and this village?”

On further inquiry, we ascertained that the scout, after hearing what he thought enough of their arrangements, had travelled some distance beyond the encampment, in order to make sure that there were no other bands connected with the one he had left, and it was while thus engaged that he stumbled on the child, which seemed to be in a dying condition.

“Hims say, too,” continued Makarooroo, after interpreting the above information, “that there be one poor woman in awfable sorrow, screechin’ and hollerowin’ like one lion.”

“Eh?” exclaimed Peterkin. “Describe her to us.”

The scout did so as well as he could.

“As sure as we live,” cried Peterkin, “it is our friend Njamie, and the child must be her boy! Come, show us the little fellow.”

We all ran out and followed the scout to his hut, where we found his wives—for he had three of them—nursing the child as tenderly as if it had been their own. It was very much wasted, evidently through want of food and over-fatigue; but we instantly recognised the once sturdy little son of Njamie in the faded little being before us. He, too, recognised us, for his bright spectral eyes opened wide when he saw us.

“I knew it,” said I.

“I told you so,” cried Peterkin.—“Now, Mak, pump him, and let’s hear what he knows.”

The poor child was far too much exhausted to undergo the pumping process referred to. He could merely answer that Njamie and Okandaga and Mbango were prisoners in the camp, and then turned languidly away, as if he desired rest.

“Poor boy!” said Peterkin tenderly, as he laid his hand gently on the child’s woolly pate.—“Tell them, Mak, to look well after him here, and they shall be paid