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Across the Cameroons Part 14

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"Look at me!" cried the man. "I am little better than a skeleton. I think I can creep through the opening in the wall."

a.s.sisted by Braid, he crawled to the fissure, and there endeavoured to pa.s.s through. It is true that he had wasted away terribly, but the opening was very narrow, and his frame was larger than his brother's.

For an hour he struggled vainly. At last, he gave it up.

"It is no good," said he. "I cannot do it. We are lost. Nothing remains but death."

They resigned themselves to their fate. They were far past all complaint. Even Klein was silent; he no longer moaned and deplored his unhappy lot. Even he had learnt to prepare himself for death.

Three more days pa.s.sed, and at the end of that time Fernando himself lay upon the floor in a kind of faint.

It was bitterly cold. They had no fire. They had burned all their wood. Only a little water remained. The prospect before them was horrible to contemplate. They were destined to be driven mad by thirst.

For some time Harry walked backward and forward. Then fatigue overcame him, and, lying down upon the floor, he immediately fell asleep. When he awoke it was daylight. He went to the bucket of water to divide the little that remained into four equal parts. To his astonishment, he found that the bucket was empty.

He uttered a loud exclamation, which brought Braid to his elbow.

"What has happened?" asked Jim.

"Our last drop of water," said Harry, "has been stolen."

There was little doubt as to who was the thief. Neither Harry nor Jim nor Fernando could have been capable of such treachery. Harry turned fiercely upon Peter Klein.

"Do you deny this?" he asked.

"Yes," said Klein; "I do."

They examined his pannikin and found that the inside was wet. There was also a drop of water upon the floor by the place where he had been sitting. Without a doubt, during the earlier part of the night, the man had pretended to be asleep until the three others were buried in slumber. Then he had stolen all that remained of their water.

Fernando rose slowly to his feet, drew his long knife, and, tottering from weakness, approached the German spy.

"Death," said he, "is too good for you! But, weak as I am, you die!"

Harry held out his hand.

"Let him be," said he. "His cowardice will avail him little. He will only live to see us go before him. He has done no more than prolong the agony of his death!"

The guide returned, growling like a dog, and sat down upon the floor.

During that day hardly a word was spoken. They sat in silence, waiting for the end. Towards afternoon a raging thirst began to consume them; their blood grew hot in a kind of fever; their tongues clave to the roofs of their mouths.

And at nightfall they lay down to die. Fernando was now in a kind of stupor. For an hour he never moved, but lay like one already dead. Both Braid and Klein fell asleep, but Harry found sleep impossible.

Knowing that the end was drawing near, he resolved to commend his soul to the Almighty, and, burying his face in his hands, he began to pray.

For some minutes he prayed silently, making his peace with G.o.d. When his prayer was finished he felt happier. He sat for some time with his hands clasped about his knees, looking upward at the round stone which confined them in their prison.

And as he looked the stone moved as if by magic, silently. Through the round hole above, the light of the moon streamed down into the darkened vault.

CHAPTER XVI--The Enemy in Sight

For some moments Harry Urquhart did not move. He sat like a graven image, his eyes staring, his jaw dropped in amazement. Then the full truth burst upon him in a flood. He sprang to his feet, uttering a loud cry which immediately awoke both Braid and Peter Klein.

"What is it?" cried Braid. "What has happened?"

Harry seized his comrade by the shoulders and shook him violently.

"Tell me, Jim, have I gone mad, or has a miracle happened? Look there!"

Braid looked in the direction indicated, and saw, to his amazement, that their prison doors were opened, that the stone had been rolled away from the circular hole in the roof.

By that time Fernando had got to his feet. He came swaying towards them, and clutched hold of Jim's arm for support. Perhaps the climate of the Coast had weakened his const.i.tution. At any rate, he was now far weaker than the others--even than Klein.

"We are saved!" he cried. "But beware of treachery. For all we know the Black Dog may be hiding at the entrance."

Harry cared nothing for that. A sense of freedom, a breath of mountain air, were worth all the risk in the world. He scrambled up, caught hold of the edge of the hole, and with great difficulty managed to pull himself through, so that he stood in the light of the stars, amid the mists that wrapped the mountain.

At his feet lay a still, dark form. It was that of a human being, but so motionless that the boy feared that it was that of a dead man. Going down upon his knees, he turned the body over, so that the face was uplifted to the moon; and at once he recognized the features of Cortes, the younger guide, who had gone out to slay the sheikh.

He spoke to the man, but received no answer. Then he rushed to a spring that was near by and quenched his burning thirst.

There he was joined by Jim Braid and Peter Klein. Both went down upon their knees at the spring-side to drink their fill.

After that they a.s.sisted the elder guide to escape from the terrible prison in which they had spent so many days. They sprinkled water upon the lips of the younger man, and at last he opened his eyes.

"We thought you dead," said Harry. "Tell us what happened to you?"

"I went my way, dressed in the clothes of that cur, to trick the Black Dog of the Cameroons. Knowing the man with whom I had to deal, I was cautious and on my guard.

"I approached so silently that not even a lizard could have taken alarm.

Then I saw the man waiting for me on the mountain-side. He was dressed in his white Arab robes; he was seated on a boulder, with his rifle on his knees.

"I considered what was best to do. I had intended to show up at a distance, pretending that I was the German. Then I remembered that if the sheikh fired I would a.s.suredly be hit. In the end I decided to creep upon him unawares, to s.n.a.t.c.h his rifle from his hands. With a man like the Black Dog it is best to strike the first blow, and also to strike hard.

"How he saw me I cannot say. His eyes are like those of a lynx. But he discovered me and fired, and I was wounded. The bullet pierced my chest. For a moment I think I was unconscious, for when I opened my eyes the sheikh himself was kneeling over me, looking into my face. He recognized me, and called me by my name.

"Without doubt he thought I was dying. Indeed, he left me to die. He went his way up the mountain. Presently I heard a shot, and a little after the Black Dog came past me, running as if for life. When he was quite close to me I saw that there was blood upon his robes and that he was running after the manner of one who suffers pain and is wounded. How that happened I do not know. At the time I thought little about it. I did not doubt that I myself stood at the door of death.

"I fainted, and when I recovered consciousness I was consumed by a terrible thirst. Fever raged in my bones. With great difficulty I managed to drag myself to the side of a spring, where I drank great draughts of water. After that I fell asleep; and for the next three days I lay in that place, thinking that I was dying, frequently drinking at the stream. I could not walk, for whenever I tried to rise to my feet there was a pain in my chest like a red-hot sword, and I came near to fainting.

"One night I thought of my brother and my friends, and then it was that I remembered that you were unable to escape from your prison.

"Ever since then I have been struggling up the side of the mountain, endeavouring to get to you to rescue you. Every minute I thought that I was dying; sometimes I was so weak that I felt I could go no farther.

Yet every day I made a little progress. I followed the direction of the stream. I drank the water, and ate wild berries, as well as the provisions I carried with me.

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Across the Cameroons Part 14 summary

You're reading Across the Cameroons. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Charles Gilson. Already has 582 views.

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