Long Odds Part 20

Domingo had a good deal to say, and framed it cunningly, playing upon the dislike of the white men that was in those who heard him, but as Ormsgill noticed, it was the old man of lighter color he chiefly watched. The latter sat silent and motionless, regarding him with expressionless eyes, until he ceased, and Ormsgill realized that if it depended upon the opinion of the a.s.sembly Domingo had won his case.

Still, though he was by no means sure what he would do, he was, at least, determined it should not depend on that, and there was a trace of grimness in his smile when Nares turned to him.

"I'm afraid it has gone against us," he said.

"Against me, you mean," said Ormsgill dryly.

"No," and Nares's gesture was expressive, "what I said stands without the correction."

Before Ormsgill could answer, the old man made a sign, and there was no mistaking his tone of authority.

"Bring the boys," he said.

They were led in some minutes later, eight of them, and three or four ran towards Ormsgill with eager cries. He waved them back, and there was silence for a moment or two until the old man rose up slowly with a curious smile in his eyes.

"It seems that this man has not beaten them too often," he said. "You have seen that they would sooner be his men than Domingo's. Let one of them speak."

One of them did so, and what he said bore out some, at least, of Ormsgill's a.s.sertions. Then the grave figure in the plain white robe raised a hand, and there was a sudden silence of attention.

"After all," he said, "this is my village, and it is by my permission your Headman rules here. Now, this stranger has told us a thing which appears impossible. We have not heard anything like it from a white man before, but when a man would deceive you he is careful to tell you what you can believe."

There was a little murmur which suggested that the listeners grasped the point of this, and the old man went on.

"I know that Lamartine was an honest man, for I have bought trade goods from him. They were what I bought them for, and I got the weight and count in full. Lamartine was honest, and it is likely that this man is honest, too, or he would not have been his friend."

He stopped a moment, and smiled a trifle dryly. "Now, we know that Domingo is a thief, for he has often cheated you, and it is certain that he is a friend of the white men. I have told you at other times that you are fools to trade with him. If a man is in debt or has done some wrong you part with him for this trader's goods. The rum is drunk, the cloth wears out, but the man lives on, and every day's work he does on the white men's plantations makes them richer and stronger. As they grow richer they grow greedier, and by and by they will not be satisfied with a man or two from among you. You will have made them strong enough to take you all. That, however, is not the question in the meanwhile. I think it may have happened, as this stranger says, that Domingo stole these boys from Lamartine, but even in that case there is a difficulty. The boys are with him, and in this country what a man holds in his hand is his. Perhaps the white man will offer him goods for them. I do not think he would ask too much, at least, if he is wise."

He looked at Ormsgill, who shook his head.

"Not a piece of cloth or a bottle of gin," he said.

There was a little murmur of resentment from the a.s.sembly, but Ormsgill saw that his boldness had the effect he had expected upon the man whose suggestion he had disregarded, and he had not acted inadvisedly when he dismissed all idea of compromise. Domingo had influential friends in that village, while, save for the handful of carriers, he and his companion stood alone. He also knew that if misfortune befell them no troublesome questions would be asked by the authorities. The whole enterprise was in one sense a folly, and that being so it was only by a continuance of the rashness he could expect to carry it through. Half measures were, as he realized, generally useless, and often perilous, in an affair of the kind, for there are occasions when one must face disastrous failure or bid boldly for success. Nares also seemed to recognize that fact, for he smiled as he turned to his companion.

"I think you were right," he said.

Then the Headman said something to his Suzerain who made a sign that the audience was over.

"It is a thing that must be talked over," he announced. "We shall, perhaps, know what must be done to-morrow."

Ormsgill acknowledged his gesture, swinging off his shapeless hat, and then led his boys away to the hut one of the Headman's servants pointed out to him. It was old, and had apparently been built for a person of importance for, though this was more usual further east among the dusky Moslem, there was a tall mud wall about it, and a smaller building probably intended for the occupation of the women inside the latter. It was dusty and empty save for the rats and certain great spiders, and during the rest of the hot afternoon Ormsgill sat with Nares in the little enclosed s.p.a.ce under the lengthening shadow of the wall. The boys had curled themselves up amidst the dust and quietly gone to sleep.

There was nothing they could see but the ridge of forest beyond the huts, and though now and then a clamor of voices reached them from outside, it supplied them with no clue to what was going on. Ormsgill smoked his pipe out several times before he said anything, and then he glanced at the wall meditatively.

"It seems thick, and there's only one entrance," he observed. "I almost fancy we could hold the place, though I don't antic.i.p.ate the necessity. Still, Domingo, who does a good trade here, has a certain following, and it might be an advantage if I knew a little more about our friends' affair. Their Suzerain seems to have some notion of fair play. I wonder what he is doing here."

"I have been asking myself the same question," said Nares. "It seems to me these folks have been a little slack in recognizing his authority, and he has been making them a visitation. In one respect they're somewhat unfortunately fixed. The Portuguese consider they belong to them though they have made no attempt to occupy the country, and it's a little rough on the Headman who has to keep the peace with both."

Ormsgill made a little gesture of concurrence. "No doubt you're correct. The question is who the Headman would sooner not offend, and it's rather an important one because we are somewhat awkwardly circ.u.mstanced if it's the Portuguese. Our friend from the Interior naturally doesn't like them, but it's uncertain how far we could count on him, and Dom Luiz will probably turn up to-morrow night or the next day, and then there would be fresh complications."

"In that case we should never get the boys."

The lines grew a trifle deeper in Ormsgill's forehead, but he smiled.

"I wouldn't go quite so far, though if Domingo still had the boys it might delay things. As it is, I don't think he will have them. How I'm going to take them from him I don't quite know, but I expect to make an attempt of some kind to-morrow. You see, these folks have no particular fondness for the Portuguese, and that will probably count for a little."

Nares said nothing further on that subject, and Ormsgill talked about other matters while the shadows crept across the little dusty enclosure and the forest cut more darkly against the dazzling glare.

Then it stood out for a brief few minutes fretted hard and sharp in ebony against a blaze of transcendent splendor, and vanished with an almost bewildering suddenness as darkness swept down. The smell of wood smoke crept into the stagnant air, and a cheerful hum of voices rose from the huts beyond the wall, through which odd bursts of laughter broke. It would not have been astonis.h.i.+ng if it had jarred upon the susceptibilities of the two men who heard it, but, as it happened, they listened tranquilly. They had both faced too many perils in the shadowy land to concern themselves greatly as to what might befall them. In one was the sure belief that all he was to bear was appointed for him, and the other thought of little but the task in hand. They were simple men, impatient often, and now and then driven into folly by human bitterness, but there is, perhaps, nothing taught in all the creeds and philosophies greater than their desire to do a little good. The formulas change, and lose their authority, but the down-trodden and those who groan beneath a heavy burden always remain.

By and by one of the Headman's retainers brought in food and a native lamp. He had nothing to tell the white men, and they, recognizing it, judiciously refrained from useless questions. When they had eaten they sat awhile talking of matters that did not greatly interest them until Ormsgill, who had already stationed his sentries, extinguished the light.

"Whether the boys can be depended on to watch I don't know, and it's probably very doubtful," he said. "Anyway, I think we shall be safe until to-morrow, and I'm going to sleep. After all, I fancy we could leave the thing to the Headman. He's a cunning rascal, and it's to some extent his business to find a way out of the difficulty. As you suggest, he stands between his Suzerain and the Portuguese, and can't afford to offend either of them."

He stretched himself out on his hard native couch, and apparently sank into tranquil slumber, but it was some time before Nares' eyes closed.

He was of different temperament, and, though he was not unduly anxious, the surroundings had their effect on him. There was, as usual, no door to the hut, and he could see the soft blue darkness beyond the entrance. The figure of a big, half-naked man who carried a heavy rifle cut against it shadowily now and then. The village was silent, and he could hear a little hot breeze sweep through it and stir the invisible trees. At last, however, he sank into sleep, and was awakened suddenly some time later. He did not know what had roused him, but as he raised himself he dimly saw Ormsgill slip across the room. Then there was a footfall outside, and he made out the sentry half-crouching in the entrance.

He rose, and stood still, quivering a little, while, perhaps, a quarter of a minute slipped by. The stillness was very impressive, and seemed emphasized by the footsteps outside. They were soft and cautious, and it was evident that the man who made them was desirous of slipping into the hut unseen. Then there was a thud in the entrance, and a scuffle during which Ormsgill hurled himself upon the pair of struggling men.

"Let him go," he said in a bush tone. "Take your hand off his neck.

Now get up."

A man who gasped heavily staggered to his feet, and Ormsgill laughed as he turned to Nares.

"I believe he's a messenger, but he can hardly blame us for welcoming him as we did," he said. "Now if you have anything to say go on with it."

Nares could only just see the negro, who was probably attempting to recover his senses, for he said nothing.

"Who sent you?" asked Ormsgill, who gripped his arm tightly, in the native tongue.

"It is a thing I am not to tell," said the man. "I have a message.

Domingo left our village with the boys an hour ago. He heads for the west."

Nares turned to Ormsgill. "Well," he said, "I am not altogether astonished, and the Headman's hint is plain enough. Of course, the thing may be a trap, but it is quite possible he is not unnaturally anxious to get rid of us and Domingo."

Ormsgill looked at the negro. "If he has gone an hour ago how are we to come up with him?"

"The road twists across the high land," said the man. "There is a shorter path through a swamp."

"Then if you will lead us across the swamp so we can reach firm ground in front of Domingo you shall have as much cloth as you can carry."

It was a tempting offer, and though the negro appeared to have misgivings he profited by it, and in another few minutes Ormsgill had roused the boys in the compound.

"If we have no trouble in getting out I think we can feel reasonably sure that the Headman doesn't care whether we worry Domingo or not,"

he said.

"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."