The Boy Aviators in Africa Part 3

Some of the paddlers and oarsmen in the boats that surrounded the Admiral Dupont were almost six feet in height and splendidly built.

"Good looking fellows those," said the captain, who had joined the group of wondering young adventurers, "but in spite of their good looks they are petty thieves, if they get the chance."

Of this quality, the boys were soon to get an example. Frank had laid down his field-gla.s.ses on a deck chair and didn't give them any more thought, even when the decks were fairly swarming with half-naked, chattering, laughing Kroomen. When he looked around for them, however, for the purpose of making out more clearly the outline of the distant mountains, the gla.s.ses had vanished.

The young leader quickly divined what had occurred and stepping to the rail he held above his head an English sovereign and a pair of gla.s.ses, borrowed, from Billy.

"I'll give this money to the man who finds my field gla.s.ses," he shouted.

"It's a long chance," he remarked to Harry, "there may be some one there who understands English. Anyway they can see that I'm willing to give money for something like the object I held up."

As much to Frank's astonishment as anyone else the next minute they heard a hail from a canoe containing two particularly black Kroomen.

"Hey, boss;" one of them was shouting, "what you lost, eh?"

"Some one stole my field-gla.s.ses," shouted back Frank.

"All right, American ma.s.sa," hailed back the Krooman, "I sail long time 'Merican s.h.i.+ps. I catch him for you."

"Well, what do you think of that?" demanded Billy. "If the Statue of Liberty had come off her perch and done a song and dance you couldn't have astonished me more than to hear that sack of coal talk English."

"They take several of those fellows to sea on trading s.h.i.+ps, that stop in here for logs from the interior," struck in Ben. "It wouldn't surprise me but what that fellow there has been in New York harbor, yes, and in San Francisco too."

The boys looked their astonishment.

"They are good hard workers," went on Ben, "and make good sailormen.

They always come back here though in the end. They are as home loving as a house cat."'

While the boys talked, their baggage was being hoisted into a lighter that lay alongside, ready for s.h.i.+pment ash.o.r.e. They were about ready to quit the s.h.i.+p when their attention was attracted by a terrific uproar among the natives alongside. Two or three canoes had been upset and in the water half a dozen Kroomen were splas.h.i.+ng about like big, black fish.

"They'll drown," gasped Harry, as he watched the furious water battle.

"Not them," sniffed Ben, "they are as much at home in the water as they are ash.o.r.e. h.e.l.lo!" he exclaimed, suddenly pointing, "there's your field-gla.s.ses again, Frank."

Sure enough, from the hands of a spluttering, half-drowned native, the Krooman who spoke English had just wrested a dripping pair of black morocco-covered field-gla.s.ses. He held them aloft in triumph, treading water while he held the other's head under the sea as a punishment for his thievery.

"I catch 'um, boss, I catch um," he kept shouting triumphantly. A few seconds later, having half drowned the unfortunate thief, he stood dripping like a figure cut out of black basalt before the boy.

As he received his recovered property Frank presented its rescuer with the sovereign. If it had been a fortune the man could not have been more overcome with grat.i.tude. He sank on his knees.

"You come ash.o.r.e my boat?" he begged. "Cost nothing to United States boys."

The adventurers a.s.sented and, having seen their baggage properly stowed on the lighter, they landed through the surf a short time later and found themselves on the flat, yellow beach facing the rather dreary looking row of Europeans' houses. The method of landing the surf boats and the wonderful dexterity with which the natives handle them is worth a whole chapter to itself. But it might prove tedious reading, so suffice it to say, that with one man standing erect in the stern with a steering oar, and the others paddling like demons, the Ivory Coast boatmen invariably land their pa.s.sengers, in a smother of foam which seems overwhelming, without spilling a drop of water on them. Not a visitor to this coast but has been impressed by their wonderful skill.

"Well, here we are," remarked Billy, looking about him at the novel surroundings.

"The first thing to do," announced Frank, "is to go to the house of Monsieur Desplaines, to whom Mr. Barr gave us a letter of introduction, and talk over our plans."

Monsieur Desplaines was the consular agent of the United States government at a.s.sini, which is a French port, and had promised by cable to Mr. Barr to give, the young travelers all the advice that his experiences could suggest. He had also volunteered to select for them a train of native baggage carriers, and hunters that would be reliable. There are no roads into the heart of Africa and everything is transported by human pack-trains. The natives of this part of the coast are strong, muscular men not easily fatigued and are capable of carrying burdens on their heads twenty-five miles or more a day without exhaustion.

As the boys started to make their way up the beach a trim figure with neatly waxed black mustaches, almost extinguished in a huge pith helmet and dressed in white duck with a red sash about the waist, emerged from the nearest house and hastened toward them.

"Welcome to Africa!" cried the newcomer as he approached and who, as Frank at once guessed, was M. Desplaines himself. "Come with me to the house and make yourselves at home."

The boys shook hands warmly with the little Frenchman who seemed so hospitably inclined and followed him eagerly toward the whitewashed house from which be had emerged.

"I would have been at the steamer to meet you," he exclaimed apologetically; "but she got here a day ahead of time and I was not prepared."

Inside the house, which was delightfully cool and darkened by jalousies from the glaring heat outside, the young adventurers were introduced to Madame Desplaines and two little girls, who const.i.tuted the family of the consular agent, who also kept the general supply store at a.s.sini.

After dinner that evening, M. Desplaines talked long and earnestly to the boys. Of the real object of their mission, he had of course no knowledge. That was kept a secret even from Barr's intimates.

There was too much at stake to let it leak out. His idea was the boys had come on a hunting and exploration, much of which was to be performed by aeroplane. He informed the boys that, acting on cabled instructions, he had laid in a good supply of gasoline by the last steamer from Sierra Leone and that arrangements for a train of carriers and for boats up the river had been made. There was a wheezy steam launch belonging to the trading post which would tow the boats up the Bia River as far as they desired. The Kroomen the boys engaged would take them to that point would then be abandoned, as they refused to go far from the coast. Such was the outline of M. Desplaines' conversation with the travelers.

The evening was far advanced when already the little party was ready for bed and already their imaginations had been fired by the tales that the consular agent had told them of the interior of the wild Bambara country. As they were saying good night to their hospitable host and hostess, there was a knock at the door. In response to M.

Desplaines shouted: "Come in," a tall coal-black figure stalked into the lamp-light. The glow shone warmly on his black skin and lit up the mighty muscles that played beneath it. The strength of the man was evidently tremendous. The boys, to their surprise, recognized him at once, as the rescuer of Frank's opera-gla.s.ses. He paid no attention to Desplaines or his family, but walked straight up to Frank.

"Hi boss, you go hunt, you go far into land of Bambara," he said, raising his mighty arm and pointing to the northeast.

Frank nodded.

It was a strange scene. The boys and Ben in their hunting costumes and stout boots, M. Desplaines, short and inclined to be fat and as neatly barbered and tailored as if he had just stepped off the boulevards, Madame Desplaines and her little girls in cool, white frocks--and in the center of the group--dominating it by his impressive manner and mighty form--the huge, ebony Krooman.

"In the land of Bambara much game," went on the Krooman.

"So we have heard," replied Frank.

"In the land of Bambara much danger," continued the Krooman, fixing his dark eyes full on Frank, "much danger to the white boys, who fly like birds."

"Why, how do you know that?" exclaimed Frank, amazed that the Krooman should not only know their destination--which might have been a guess--but have divined the fact that they had an aeroplane.

"Krooman know much that white man not know!" replied the giant black.

Then, rising his finger, he counted the amazed group of adventurers who stood transfixed at the scene.

"One--two--three--four--five go to Bambara," he intoned. "Come back one--two--three. Two die. Sikaso, know."

Before any of the astounded party could frame a question or open their lips, the huge figure had stalked to the doorway and vanished.

"He'd make a nice, comfortable house-pet that fellow," said Billy, who was the first to speak. "One, two, three, four, five go to Bambara," he mimicked. "Come back one, two, three. Two die.

Sikaso know. Br-r-r-r-r, he gives me the creeps."

They all laughed at Billy's absurd aping of the stately negro, but nevertheless none of them felt inclined for more talk that night.

Somehow, the Krooman had cast a gloom on the party. Had they known how nearly his prophecy was to come to fulfillment they might even have been tempted to abandon the expedition.

CHAPTER IV