In Search of the Okapi Part 61

"Eh?"

"The rains are coming. Maybe that is why Ha.s.san struck so soon, for when the rains come, every warrior is like the bow-string that has been soaked in water. They hide the sun, they breed chills and sickness. I can feel the breath of them in my bones. It is the rains."

He s.h.i.+vered, and threw a stick on the fire. "In the morning," he said, "we must find a new home, for the rains blow in at the mouth of this cave. The clouds hang low on the hills."

"We have found our boat, chief; we will go on our way," said the Hunter, bluntly.

"That way would be the way of death," answered the chief, slowly.

"It is bad here, but in the woods it is like the spray blown off from the rus.h.i.+ng waters. Every tree is a rain-cloud, every leaf drops water, and the air you breathe in the woods is wet. If you would live, great one, you must stay here. Wet when you sleep, when you eat, when you sit you sit in wet, when you stand the water runs off; wet, all wet in the rains down in the woods."

"Ugh!" said Venning, with a shudder; and Compton put on another stick.

"We will see," said the Hunter.

They sat in silence, pondering over this new source of worry, then turned in to sleep. They slept heavily, having taken great care first of all to block up the entrance to the underground pa.s.sage, and as they dropped off to sleep, they heard the women chanting still in the village below. The fire glowed red in the entrance, making the roof look like beaten gold, but the air blew chill, and the sleepers were restless. A hand would reach out to the firewood for another log, or to tuck the blankets under the body, so that the cold could not sift under.

The jackal was as weary as the rest. Several times he ran to the entrance to look out with p.r.i.c.ked ears, then back again to stare into a sleepy face; but as his human companions gradually sank into heavy sleep, he crouched on the floor with his sharp nose resting between his forepaws, the one sound, the other bandaged.

CHAPTER XXV

THE CRY IN THE NIGHT

As the fire-sticks snapped under the heat, the jackal would open his yellow eyes and start back with his gaze fixed inquiringly on the fire, whose mystery he could never solve. One of these starts roused Venning, who, seeing the cause, threw out a hand and drew the animal to him. He felt nervous, and the company of the jackal comforted him, and the jackal in its turn forgot its uneasiness in the warmth of the blankets. With a little sigh it curled up and went to sleep.

The boy was the only one awake, and out in the wide s.p.a.ce beyond he heard a voice calling--

"Ngonyama'"

He held his breath, and his throat grew very dry, for it was the voice he had heard in the cavern, only sad this time, and not mocking as before.

"Ngonyama!--yama!" It came thin and melancholy, with a long lingering on the last syllables.

He put his hand out to rouse Mr. Hume, then drew it back ashamed of his fancies; but the movement awoke the jackal. It lifted its head, snuffed the air, then sprang up with the ruff on its neck erect, and its sharp white teeth gleaming. Several moments it stood so, then with many a look out, curled itself up again.

Venning had watched it breathlessly, now he patted it to sleep, and dozed off himself, only to wake up in a violent tremble, with that sound quivering plaintively in the air--

"Ngonyama! Ngonyama!"

He brushed his hand across his forehead, and found his face burning hot. He removed his blanket from his shoulders and sat up, still patting the jackal. The fire was before him, and the dark ring of the cave's mouth; but his eyes dilated as he looked, for within the glare of the fire was that same awful face he had seen down in the darkness.

He would have cried out, but his voice would not come; and with an effort--for all the blood seemed to have left his limbs--he slowly moved his hand to Mr. Hume's.

The Hunter made no sign; but Venning, with his face turned still in a frozen stare towards the entrance, caught a change in the breathing, and knew that his touch had answered its purpose. To the boy they were acting over the scene in the cavern again. He was waiting for the shrill laugh, the sudden treacherous thrust of steel in the dark, and then the ring of metal on the rocks.

Then, without any sign having been given that he was awake, the jackal in a bound was over the fire, swollen to double his size by the bristling hair, and uttering as he charged a fierce yelp.

Muata seemed to awake and spring forward all in one movement. A moment he paused in the glare of the light, stooping forward, the glare showing red on his blade, and the next he was gone with a war- whoop, and in his place stood the Hunter, crouching also with the broad blade in his hand. Between the fierce yelp of the jackal and the spring of the Hunter only a few seconds had pa.s.sed. The three of them less than half a minute since had been asleep; and now, out of the darkness on the ledge beyond came the ring of metal and the savage grunts of men fighting for their lives.

Venning remained where he was, too ill to rise; and Compton, not yet trained to act on a sudden emergency, sat up, bewildered by the noise.

"Mr. Hume--G.o.dfrey--what is it?"

"The witches," said Venning, "out of the underground. I saw one looking in."

"Eh?"

Compton felt for his carbine, and, gathering his wits, ran out, receiving promptly, on getting within the ring of light, a blow on his arm, followed by a clutch at his throat. Driving the muzzle of his gun forward into something soft which emitted a grunt, he freed himself from his a.s.sailant, and sprang aside. He heard the whizz of weapons, the clash of blows, and saw dark forms indistinctly moving rapidly this way and that; then his rifle flashed as he saw a crouching form stealing upon him.

"Yavuma!" cried the Hunter's voice, giving the Kaffir war-cry as he swung his terrible weapon at a foe.

"Yavuma '" cried Muata, with the jackal snarling by his side. "Fire, little great one, into the thick."

It was very well to say fire, but Compton could not tell friend from foe until, bending low, he made out that while two men had their backs to the cliff there were others around them in an enclosing ring. Judging these were the enemy, though he could make out no distinguis.h.i.+ng point, he went down on his knee and fired rapidly.

A man dashed by him towards the gorge, and the rest who could followed. One gave a slas.h.i.+ng left-hand stroke with a long sword as he went by the kneeling marksman, and Compton went down in a heap.

The man paused to finish his work, but with a savage roar the Hunter leapt forward and bore him to the ground.

At the heels of the flying men went the jackal, and after him, soft- footed, went Muata, still-voiced.

The fight was over. Mr. Hume picked d.i.c.k up and carried him into the cave.

"A light," said the Hunter.

Venning, with his head throbbing, crawled feebly to where the lantern was, lit it with trembling fingers, and, sitting up, threw the light on the two forms--on the one face, beaded, working still with the fury of the fight; on the other, still, white, and blood- stained.

The boy's hand shook more violently, and in his weakness he sobbed.

"Put the lantern down," said Mr. Hume, fiercely.

Quickly he staunched the flow of blood, cut away the hair, and then, with an impatient look at the sobbing boy, lowered the head he was supporting, and searched for liniment, ointment, and restoratives.

Bending over his task, he worked with skilful fingers, and then, with a sigh, watched the white face intently. Then he went outside to listen, to bend over the figures lying still in the darkness, and returning, built up the fire.

Venning watched him return to d.i.c.k, saw the long, anxious scrutiny, and then burst out crying as he saw a look of relief come into the rugged face.

"Don't worry, lad; he'll pick up."

"I know you think I'm no good," was the boy's heartbroken reply.

Mr. Home was at his side. "Nonsense, lad. I know what it is to have a touch of fever; and besides, I believe it was you who gave warning."

"I heard some one calling Ngonyama," said the boy, in a whisper, "and I saw the face in the entrance--the same face I saw down under there. Were they the witches?"

"It was Ha.s.san and some of his men. They must have escaped from the river and remained in hiding. I felt your hand in the night, and it woke me. So, you see, you did your part. Now rest, there's a good chap."

Mr. Hume made the boy a cooling drink, with a dose of quinine.