The Blind Lion of the Congo - BestLightNovel.com
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The gigantic negro took the gla.s.ses and gazed long and earnestly at the faint movement in the gra.s.s, which seemed to be coming toward the river.
Then he returned them with a shrug.
"Not know, sar."
"Tell Mvita to send over some of his boys and find out," suggested Critch. Mr. Wallace nodded and John was off instantly. A moment later a dozen natives started crossing the stream, advancing cautiously, for they too had been puzzled and were taking no chances. Before they had reached the opposite bank Critch gave a cry.
"Look there! It's coming out!"
Through their gla.s.ses they could see a dark object crossing one of the more open s.p.a.ces. Its method of progression was peculiar, because while it was undoubtedly coming toward the river, it seemed to be rising and falling, floundering in the marsh-mud, and at times lying motionless on the gra.s.s-hummocks.
"It's a man!" exclaimed Burt in amazement. Critch uttered a scornful denial, but Mr. Wallace slowly nodded.
"I believe it is," he a.s.serted. "I thought I could make out arms and legs but I wasn't sure. If it is a man, he must be in a mighty bad fix."
A sudden idea occurred to Burt and he glanced at his chum. Critch met his eye and read the unspoken thought. When Burt raised his gla.s.ses again his face was white.
Now the natives were surrounding the strange figure, and a moment later one of them waved his spear. The others could be seen lifting the creature, whatever it was, and speedily carried him to the river.
"Come along," and Mr. Wallace rose hastily. "We'll go down and meet them. If it's a man he'll need help. John, did you bring the small medicine case?"
"Here, sar," and as if by magic the grinning black produced the required object. They all hurried down to the river, where the villagers were already crowding around in great curiosity. The little band of natives splashed across the stream, and suddenly Burt felt his uncle grip his arm.
"Burt!" and he had never before heard such tense horror in a man's voice. "Go up and get some water boiling right away! Hurry, lad, hurry!"
Without pausing to ask questions Burt dashed off. As he went he could hear his uncle continuing. "John, make for the camp right away. Get out bandages, have hot water, make the hypodermics ready and mix some strong morphia and anti-toxin solution. That is Captain Montenay." John was off at a run instantly.
The last words struck Burt like a blow. With pale face he got the water heating, and met his uncle as the latter ordered the senseless form of Captain Mac set down. The explorer was unrecognizable. He was plastered with mud from head to foot and his whole body was swelled and poisoned until he bore small resemblance to a man. Mr. Wallace gave a glance around, then shook his head.
"We can do nothing here. Boys, we'll have to work to save him. Looks to me like black wasp stings." Turning to Mvita, he ordered Montenay's body carried to the village at top speed. Instantly four natives caught up the senseless figure and made off at a lope.
Mr. Wallace and the boys dropped everything and followed. When they reached the camp after a hard march they found John bathing the swollen body of Captain Mac, and Mr. Wallace went to work at once with the medicines that lay ready. With the mud and dirt removed, Montenay's horrible condition only became more evident. Mr. Wallace went to work with the hypodermic while the boys aided John to cleanse the explorer's body, then handed the syringe to John to clean and turned to the bandages and lint.
The countless stings were washed with a weak solution of ammonia to take out the poison, and an hour later they left the Scotchman a ma.s.s of bandages but sleeping soundly.
"I gave him some morphia," explained Mr. Wallace as they washed up outside. "What he needs first is sleep. He must have been in absolute agony in there."
It was after sunset before Captain Mac wakened from his sleep. The boys were at his side immediately, followed by Mr. Wallace.
"Well," cried the latter heartily, "how's the sick man now? Feel a bit better?"
"Gi' me a drink," whispered the other feebly. When he had taken a long draught from Burt's canteen he sank back with a satisfied sigh. "Where'd ye find me?"
"Down by the river," answered Mr. Wallace. "Feel able to talk?" Montenay nodded and fixed his eyes on the American. "I suppose the pigmies got after your men?"
"Into 'em's more like it," returned Captain Mac. "Didn't see one of 'em.
Just arrows--arrows--arrows, day an' night." He paused for breath. "What day's this?"
"Friday," said Critch. "We found you this morning."
"Wednesday it was," went on Montenay as he gained strength slowly. "Last six men went in a bunch. Pulled off my s.h.i.+rt an' yelled 'Pongo.' Tried to talk to the deevils but they wouldn't show up. Started on alone an'
they shot arrows all around me. Didn't dare hit me, I guess. So I came back."
"Two days," mused Mr. Wallace. "You certainly looked nice when we found you!"
"It was the black wasps," said the other. "I fell into a nest that night an' it nigh finished me."
"Come along, boys," returned Mr. Wallace as he arose. "You get to sleep again, Montenay. You'll be more fit in the morning."
They adjusted the mosquito curtains for the night and returned to find dinner waiting for them. After dining sumptuously on eland tongue and hartebeest tenderloin Burt pushed back his canvas chair with a sigh of content.
"I s'pose we'll work up toward the Makua pretty quick, won't we?" he asked his uncle.
"You bet we will," replied the latter fervently. "Just as soon as Captain Mac's able to navigate. That'll be two or three days anyway. We have a nice little bunch of ivory and we'll get more in by trading as we go along. Mvita has four more tusks to bring in too."
"That ivory zareba'd mean a good bunch o' money, wouldn't it?" put in Critch. "I'd hate to go through what Cap'n Mac has, though."
"By the way," said Mr. Wallace, "don't use all those chop-boxes. I want a couple of zebra and giraffe skins. We'll get 'em farther north on our way up."
"Mvita told me this morning," said Burt, "that there was some giraffe about five miles to the northeast of here. Why couldn't we get 'em and have a skin fixed by the time Cap'n Mac's ready to march?"
"We'd save time that way, but I don't want to leave him," returned his uncle thoughtfully. "However, I might send you two out with John. I'd trust him anywhere."
"Go ahead!" pleaded Critch excitedly. "That'd be great, Mr. Wallace!"
"John!" called the explorer with a smile. "If I send you out after giraffe in the morning with these boys, will you take good care of 'em?"
"Sure, sar!" grinned the big Liberian cheerfully. "John him be beri careful. Bring back safe!"
"All right. Get your stuff ready then. You can take my big rifle yourself." As John went off with a wider grin than ever Mr. Wallace turned to the boys. "I want you two to promise me that whatever happens you'll obey John and do just as he tells you."
"All right, sir," replied Critch at once.
"So'll I," agreed Burt. "Five miles in this country won't be any joke, though!"
"It'll take a good day right enough," nodded Mr. Wallace. "John is pretty safe to be with and he'll take as good care of you as I would. If you find the giraffes don't bring down more than two. You might run across some zebra in the same country and if you do, you can get some of 'em too. But I guess there's not much danger of that, without horses.
"Now remember to obey John in everything. He'll be in my place for the day. Better fill your canteens with cold coffee before you go and take your heavy rifles. Let John have your compa.s.s, Burt. If you run across any waterbuck bring in a couple for the men. It'll be a good change of diet. Now get to sleep, for you'll be up before day."
After laying out a supply of heavy cartridges and some fresh clothes for the morning the boys tumbled into their sleeping bags on top of their cots. Each leg of the cots was placed in a dish of water to keep off ants and other crawling creatures which might wander in. Critch was half asleep when he heard Burt's voice.
"Oh, Critch! Remember what Cap'n Mac looked like coming across that swamp?"
"Shut up! I don't want to dream about it."
"I was just thinkin' that we'll stick pretty close to John to-morrow, eh?"
"You bet your life we will! Go to sleep."
It was their last sleep in the comfortable tent for many a night.