necessity of coming to Kazonndé. Upon the receipt of a letter from
herself, he would not hesitate for a moment in undertaking the journey,
but she entertained no little fear that after all perhaps her own
departure might not be permitted; the slightest caprice on the part of
Queen Moena would detain her as a captive, whilst as to Negoro, if once
he should get the ransom he wanted, he would take no further pains in
the matter.
Accordingly, she resolved to make the proposition that she should be
conveyed to some point upon the coast, where the bargain could be
concluded without Mr. Weldon's coming up the country.
She had to weigh all the consequences that would follow any refusal on
her part to fall in with Negoro's demands. Of course, he would spend
the interval in preparing for his start to America, and when he should
come back and find her still hesitating, was it not likely that he
would find scope for his revenge in suggesting that she must be
separated from her child.
The very thought sent a pang through her heart, and she clasped her
little boy tenderly to her side.
"What makes you so sad, mamma?" asked Jack.
"I was thinking of your father, my child," she answered; "would you not
like to see him?"
"Yes, yes; is he coming here?"
"No, my boy, he must not come here."
"Then let us take Dick, and Tom, and Hercules, and go to him."
Mrs. Weldon tried to conceal her tears.
"Have you heard from papa?"
"No."
"Then why do you not write to him?"
"Write to him?" repeated his mother, "that is the very thing I was
thinking about."
The child little knew the agitation that was troubling her mind.
Meanwhile Mrs. Weldon had another inducement which she hardly ventured
to own to herself for postponing her final decision. Was it absolutely
impossible that her liberation should be effected by some different
means altogether?
A few days previously she had overheard a conversation outside her hut,
and over this she had found herself continually pondering.
Alvez and one of the Ujiji dealers, discussing the future prospects of
their business, mutually agreed in denouncing the efforts that were
being made for the suppression of the slave-traffic, not only by the
cruisers on the coast, but by the intrusion of travellers and
missionaries into the interior.
Alvez averred that all these troublesome visitors ought to be
exterminated forthwith.
"But kill one, and another crops up," replied the dealer.
"Yes, their exaggerated reports bring up a swarm of them," said Alvez.
It seemed a subject of bitter complaint that the markets of Nyangwé,
Zanzibar, and the lake-district had been invaded by Speke and Grant and
others, and although they congratulated each other that the western
provinces had not yet been much persecuted, they confessed that now
that the travelling epidemic had begun to rage, there was no telling
how soon a lot of European and American busy-bodies might be among
them. Thedépôts at Cassange and Bihe had both been visited, and
although Kazonndé had hitherto been left quiet, there were rumours
enough that the continent was to be tramped over from east to west.[1]
[Footnote: This extraordinary feat was, it is universally known,
subsequently accomplished by Cameron.]
"And it may be," continued Alvez, "that that missionary fellow,
Livingstone, is already on his way to us; if he comes there can be but
one result; there must be freedom for all the slaves in Kazonndé."
"Freedom for the slaves in Kazonndé!" These were the words which in
connexion with Dr. Livingstone's name had arrested Mrs. Weldon's
attention, and who can wonder that she pondered them over and over
again, and ventured to associate them with her own prospects?
Here was a ray of hope!
The mere mention of Livingstone's name in association with this story
seems to demand a brief survey of his career.
Born on the 19th of March, 1813, David Livingstone was the second of
six children of a tradesman in the village of Blantyre, in Lanarkshire.
After two years' training in medicine and theology, he was sent out by
the London Missionary Society, and landed at the Cape of Good Hope in
1840, with the intention of joining Moffat in South Africa. After
exploring the country of the Bechuanas, he returned to Kuruman, and,
having married Moffat's daughter, proceeded in 1843 to found a mission
in the Mabotsa valley.
After four years he removed to Kolobeng in the Bechuana district, 225
miles north of Kuruman, whence, in 1849, starting off with his wife,
three children, and two friends, Mr. Oswell and Mr. Murray, he
discovered Lake Ngami, and returned by descending the course of the
Zouga.
The opposition of the natives had prevented his proceeding beyond Lake
Ngami at his first visit, and he made a second with no better success.
In a third attempt, however, he wended his way northwards with his
family and Mr. Oswell along the Chobé, an affluent of the Zambesi, and
after a difficult journey at length reached the district of the
Makalolos, of whom the chief, named Sebituané, joined him at Linyanté.
The Zambesi itself was discovered at the end of June, 1851, and the
doctor returned to the Cape for the purpose of sending his family to
England.
[Illustration: Dr. Livingstone. -Page- 408.]
His next project was to cross the continent obliquely from south to
west, but in this expedition he had resolved that he would risk no life
but his own. Accompanied, therefore, by only a few natives, he started
in the following June, and skirting the Kalahari desert entered
Litoubarouba on the last day of the year; here he found the Bechuana
district much ravaged by the Boers, the original Dutch colonists, who
had formed the population of the Cape before it came into the
possession of the English. After a fortnight's stay, he proceeded into
the heart of the district of the Bamangonatos, and travelled
continuously until the 23rd of May, when he arrived at Linyanté, and
was received with much honour by Sekeletoo, who had recently become
sovereign of the Makalolos. A severe attack of fever detained the
traveller here for a period, but he made good use of the enforced rest
by studying the manners of the country, and became for the first time
sensible of its terrible sufferings in consequence of the slave-trade.
Descending the course of the Chobé to the Zambesi, he next entered
Naniele, and after visiting Katonga and Libonta, advanced to the point
of confluence of the Leeba with the Zambesi, where he determined upon
ascending the former as far as the Portuguese possessions in the west;
it was an undertaking, however, that required considerable preparation,
so that it was necessary for him to return to Linyanté.
On the 11th of November he again started. He was accompanied by
twenty-seven Makalolos, and ascended the Leeba till, in the territory
of the Balonda, he reached a spot where it received the waters of its
tributary the Makondo.
It was the first time a white man had ever penetrated so far.
Proceeding on their way, they arrived at the residence of Shinté, the
most powerful of the chieftains of the Balonda, by whom they were well
received, and having met with equal kindness from Kateema, a ruler on
the other side of the Leeba, they encamped, on the 20th of February,
1853, on the banks of Lake Dilolo.
Here it was that the real difficulty commenced; the arduous travelling,
the attacks of the natives, and their exorbitant demands, the
conspiracies of his own attendants and their desertions, would soon
have caused any one of less energy to abandon his enterprise; but David
Livingstone was not a man to be daunted; resolutely he persevered, and
on the 4th of April reached the banks of the Coango, the stream that
forms the frontier of the Portuguese possessions, and joins the Zaire
on the north.
Six days later he passed through Cassangé. Here it was that Alvez had
seen him. On the 31st of May he arrived at St. Paul de Loanda, having
traversed the continent in about two years.
It was not long, however, before he was off again. Following the banks
of the Coanza, the river which was to bring such trying experiences to
Dick Sands and his party, he reached the Lombé, and having met numbers
of slave-caravans on his way, again passed through Cassange, crossed
the Coango, and reached the Zambesi at Kewawa. By the 8th of the
following June he was again at Lake Dilolo, and descending the river,
he re-entered Linyanté. Here he stayed till the 3rd of November, when
he commenced his second great journey, which was to carry him
completely across Africa from west to east.
After visiting the famed Victoria Falls, the intrepid explorer quitted
the Zambesi, and took a north-easterly route. The transit of the
territory of the Batokas, a people brutalized by the inhalation of
hemp; a visit to Semalemboni the powerful chief of the district; the
passage of the Kafoni; a visit to king Mbourouma; an inspection of the
ruins of Zumbo, an old Portuguese town; a meeting with the chief
Mpendé, at that time at war with the Portuguese, these were the
principal events of this journey, and on the 22nd of April, Livingstone
left Teté, and having descended the river as far as its delta, reached
Quilimané, just four years after his last departure from the Cape. On
the 12th of July he embarked for the Mauritius, and on the 22nd of
December, 1856, he landed in England after an absence of sixteen years.
[Illustration: With none to guide him except a few natives.]
Loaded with honours by the Geographical Societies of London and Paris,
brilliantly entertained by all ranks, it would have been no matter of
surprise if he had surrendered himself to a well-earned repose; but no
thought of permanent rest occurred to him, and on the 1st of March,
1858, accompanied by his brother Charles, Captain Bedingfield, Dr.
Kirk, Dr. Miller, Mr. Thornton, and Mr. Baines, he started again, with
the intention of exploring the basin of the Zambesi, and arrived in due
time at the coast of Mozambique.
The party ascended the great river by the Kongone mouth; they were on
board a small steamer named the "Ma-Robert," and reached Teté on the
8th of September.
During the following year they investigated the lower course of the
Zambesi, and its left affluent the Shiré, and having visited Lake
Shirwa, they explored the territory of the Manganjas, and discovered
Lake Nyassa. In August, 1860, they returned to the Victoria Falls.
Early in the following year, Bishop Mackenzie and his missionary staff
arrived at the mouth of the Zambesi.
In March an exploration of the Rovouma was made on board the "Pioneer,"
the exploring party returning afterwards to Lake Nyassa, where they
remained a considerable time. The 30th of January, 1862, was signalized
by the arrival of Mrs. Livingstone, and by the addition of another
steamer, the "Lady Nyassa;" but the happiness of reunion was very
transient; it was but a short time before the enthusiastic Bishop
Mackenzie succumbed to the unhealthiness of the climate, and on the
27th of April Mrs. Livingstone expired in her husband's arms.
A second investigation of the Rovouma soon followed and at the end of
November the doctor returned to the Zambesi, and reascended the Shire.
In the spring of 1803 he lost his companion Mr. Thornton, and as his
brother and Dr. Kirk were both much debilitated, he insisted upon their
return to Europe, while he himself returned for the third time to Lake
Nyassa, and completed the hydrographical survey which already he had
begun.
A few months later found him once more at the mouth of the Zambesi;
thence he crossed over to Zanzibar, and after five years' absence
arrived in London, where he published his work, "The exploration of the
Zambesi and its affluents."
Still unwearied and insatiable in his longings, he was back again in
Zanzibar at the commencement of 1866, ready to begin his fourth
journey, this time attended only by a few sepoys and negroes.
Witnessing on his way some horrible scenes which were perpetrated as
the result of the prosecution of the slave-trade, he proceeded to
Mokalaosé on the shores of Lake Nyassa, where nearly all his attendants
deserted him, and returned to Zanzibar with the report that he was dead.
Dr. Livingstone meanwhile was not only alive, but undaunted in his
determination to visit the country between the two lakes Nyassa and
Tanganyika. With none to guide him except a few natives, he crossed the
Loangona, and in the following April discovered Lake Liemmba. Here he
lay for a whole month hovering between life and death, but rallying a
little he pushed on to the north shore of Lake Moero. Taking up his
quarters at Cazembé for six weeks, he made two separate explorations of
the lake, and then started farther northwards, intending to reach
Ujiji, an important town upon Lake Tanganyika; overtaken, however, by
floods, and again abandoned by his servants, he was obliged to retrace
his steps. Six weeks afterwards he had made his way southwards to the
great lake Bangweolo, whence once more he started towards Tanganyika.
This last effort was most trying, and the doctor had grown so weak that
he was obliged to be carried, but he reached Ujiji, where he was
gratified by finding some supplies that had been thoughtfully forwarded
to him by the Oriental Society at Calcutta.
[Illustration: "You are Dr. Livingstone, I presume?"]
His great aim now was to ascend the lake, and reach the sources of the
Nile. On the 21st of September he was at Bambarré, in the country of
the cannibal Manyuema, upon the Lualaba, the river afterwards
ascertained by Stanley to be the Upper Zaire or Congo. At Mamobela the
doctor was ill for twenty-four days, tended only by three followers who
continued faithful; but in July he made a vigorous effort, and although
he was reduced to a skeleton, made his way back to Ujiji.
During this long time no tidings of Livingstone reached Europe, and
many were the misgivings lest the rumours of his death were only too
true. He was himself, too, almost despairing as to receiving any help.
But help was closer at hand than he thought. On the 3rd of November,
only eleven days after his return to Ujiji, some gun shots were heard
within half a mile of the lake. The doctor went out to ascertain whence
they proceeded, and had not gone far before a white man stood before
him.
"You are Dr. Livingstone, I presume," said the stranger, raising his
cap.
"Yes, sir, I am Dr. Livingstone, and am happy to see you," answered the
doctor, smiling kindly.
The two shook each other warmly by the hand.
The new arrival was Henry Stanley, the correspondent of the -New York
Herald-, who had been sent out by Mr. Bennett, the editor, in search of
the great African explorer. On receiving his orders in October, 1870,
without a day's unnecessary delay he had embarked at Bombay for
Zanzibar, and, after a journey involving considerable peril, had
arrived safely at Ujiji.
Very soon the two travellers found themselves on the best of terms, and
set out together on an excursion to the north of Tanganyika. They
proceeded as far as Cape Magala, and decided that the chief outlet of
the lake must be an affluent of the Lualaba, a conclusion that was
subsequently confirmed by Cameron.
Towards the end of the year Stanley began to prepare to return.
Livingstone accompanied him as far as Kwihara, and on the 3rd of the
following March they parted.
"You have done for me what few men would venture to do; I am truly
grateful," said Livingstone.
Stanley could scarcely repress his tears as he expressed his hope that
the doctor might be spared to return to his friends safe and well.
"Good-bye!" said Stanley, choked with emotion.
"Good-bye!" answered the veteran feebly.
Thus they parted, and in July, 1872, Stanley landed at Marseilles.
Again David Livingstone resumed his researches in the interior.
After remaining five months at Kwihara he gathered together a retinue
consisting of his faithful followers Suzi, Chumah, Amoda, and Jacob
Wainwright, and fifty-six men sent to him by Stanley, and lost no time
in proceeding towards the south of Tanganyika. In the course of the
ensuing month the caravan encountered some frightful storms, but
succeeded in reaching Moura. There had previously been an extreme
drought, which was now followed by the rainy season, which entailed the
loss of many of the beasts of burden, in consequence of the bites of
the tzetsy.
On the 24th of January they were at Chitounkwé, and in April, after
rounding the east of Lake Bangweolo, they made their way towards the
village of Chitambo. At this point it was that Livingstone had parted
company with certain slave-dealers, who had carried the information to
old Alvez that the missionary traveller would very likely proceed by
way of Loanda to Kazonndé.
But on the 13th of June, the very day before Negoro reckoned on
obtaining from Mrs. Weldon the letter which should be the means of
securing him a hundred thousand dollars, tidings were circulated in the
district that on the 1st of May Dr. Livingstone had breathed his last.
The report proved perfectly true. On the 29th of April the caravan had
reached the village of Chitambo, the doctor so unwell that he was
carried on a litter. The following night he was in great pain, and
after repeatedly murmuring in a low voice, "Oh dear, oh dear!" he fell
into a kind of stupor. A short time afterwards he called up Suzi, and
having asked for some medicine, told his attendant that he should not
require anything more.
"You can go now."
About four o'clock next morning, when an anxious visit was made to his
room, the doctor was found kneeling by the bed-side, his head in his
hands, in the attitude of prayer. Suzi touched him, but his forehead
was icy with the coldness of death. He had died in the night.
His body was carried by those who loved him, and in spite of many
obstacles was brought to Zanzibar, whence, nine months after his death,
it was conveyed to England. On the 12th of April, 1874, it was interred
in Westminster Abbey, counted worthy to be deposited amongst those whom
the country most delights to honour.
CHAPTER XV.
AN EXCITING CHASE.
To say the truth, it was the very vaguest of hopes to which Mrs. Weldon
had been clinging, yet it was not without some thrill of disappointment
that she heard from the lips of old Alvez himself that Dr. Livingstone
had died at a little village on Lake Bangweolo. There had appeared to
be a sort of a link binding her to the civilized world, but it was now
abruptly snapped, and nothing remained for her but to make what terms
she could with the base and heartless Negoro.
On the 14th, the day appointed for the interview, he made his
appearance at the hut, firmly resolved to make no abatement in the
terms that he had proposed, Mrs. Weldon, on her part, being equally
determined not to yield to the demand.
"There is only one condition," she avowed, "upon which I will
acquiesce. My husband shall not be required to come up the country
here."
Negoro hesitated; at length he said that he would agree to her husband
being taken by ship to Mossamedes, a small port in the south of Angola,
much frequented by slavers, whither also, at a date hereafter to be
fixed, Alvez should send herself with Jack and Benedict; the
stipulation was confirmed that the ransom should be 100,000 dollars,
and it was further made part of the contract that Negoro should be
allowed to depart as an honest man.
Mrs. Weldon felt she had gained an important point in thus sparing her
husband the necessity of a journey to Kazonndé, and had no
apprehensions about herself on her way to Mossamedes, knowing that it
was to the interest of Alvez and Negoro alike to attend carefully to
her wants.
Upon the terms of the covenant being thus arranged, Mrs. Weldon wrote
such a letter to her husband as she knew would bring him with all speed
to Mossamedes, but she left it entirely to Negoro to represent himself
in whatever light he chose. Once in possession of the document, Negoro
lost no time in starting on his errand. The very next morning, taking
with him about twenty negroes, he set off towards the north, alleging
to Alvez as his motive for taking that direction, that he was not only
going to embark somewhere at the mouth of the Congo, but that he was
anxious to keep as far as possible from the prison-houses of the
Portuguese, with which already he had been involuntarily only too
familiar.
After his departure, Mrs. Weldon resolved to make the best of her
period of imprisonment, aware that it could hardly be less than four
months before he would return. She had no desire to go beyond the
precincts assigned her, even had the privilege been allowed her; but
warned by Negoro that Hercules was still free, and might at any time
attempt a rescue, Alvez had no thought of permitting her any
unnecessary liberty. Her life therefore soon resumed its previous
monotony.
The daily routine went on within the enclosure pretty much as in other
parts of the town, the women all being employed in various labours for
the benefit of their husbands and masters. The rice was pounded with
wooden pestles; the maize was peeled and winnowed, previously to
extracting the granulous substance for the drink which they call
-mtyellé-; the sorghum had to be gathered in, the season of its
ripening being marked by festive observances; there was a fragrant oil
to be expressed from a kind of olive named the -mpafoo-; the cotton had
to be spun on spindles, which were hardly less than a foot and a half
in length; there was the bark of trees to be woven into textures for
wearing; the manioc had to be dug up, and the cassava procured from its
roots; and besides all this, there was the preparation of the soil for
its future plantings, the usual productions of the country being the
-moritsané- beans, growing in pods fifteen inches long upon stems
twenty feet high, the -arachides-, from which they procure a
serviceable oil, the -chilobé- pea, the blossoms of which are used to
give a flavour to the insipid sorghum, cucumbers, of which the seeds
are roasted as chestnuts, as well as the common crops of coffee, sugar,
onions, guavas, and sesame.
To the women's lot, too, falls the manipulation of all the fermented
drinks, the -malafoo-, made from bananas, the -pombé-, and various
other liquors. Nor should the care of all the domestic animals be
forgotten; the cows that will not allow themselves to be milked unless
they can see their calf, or a stuffed representative of it; the
short-horned heifers that not unfrequently have a hump; the goats that,
like slaves, form part of the currency of the country; the pigs, the
sheep, and the poultry.
The men, meanwhile, smoke their hemp or tobacco, hunt buffaloes or
elephants, or are hired by the dealers to join in the slave-raids; the
harvest of slaves, in fact, being a thing of as regular and periodic
recurrence as the ingathering of the maize.
In her daily strolls, Mrs. Weldon would occasionally pause to watch the
women, but they only responded to her notice by a long stare or by a
hideous grimace; a kind of natural instinct made them hate a white
skin, and they had no spark of commiseration for the stranger who had
been brought among them; Halima, however, was a marked exception, she
grew more and more devoted to her mistress, and by degrees, the two
became able to exchange many sentences in the native dialect.
Jack generally accompanied his mother. Naturally enough he longed to
get outside the enclosure, but still he found considerable amusement in
watching the birds that built in a huge baobab that grew within; there
were maraboos making their nests with twigs; there were
scarlet-throated -souimangas- with nests like weaver-birds; widow birds
that helped themselves liberally to the thatch of the huts; -calaos-
with their tuneful song; grey parrots, with bright red tails, called
-roufs- by the Manyuema, who apply the same name to their reigning
chiefs; and insect-eating -drongos-, like grey linnets with large red
beaks. Hundreds of butterflies flitted about, especially in the
neighbourhood of the brooks; but these were more to the taste of Cousin
Benedict than of little Jack; over and over again the child expressed
his regret that he could not see over the walls, and more than ever he
seemed to miss his friend Dick, who had taught him to climb a mast, and
who he was sure would have fine fun with him in the branches of the
trees, which were growing sometimes to the height of a hundred feet.
[Illustration: The insufferable heat had driven all the residents
within the depót indoors.]
So long as the supply of insects did not fail, Benedict would have been
contented to stay on without a murmur in his present quarters. True,
without his glasses he worked at a disadvantage; but he had had the
good fortune to discover a minute bee that forms its cells in the holes
of worm-eaten wood, and a "sphex" that practises the craft of the
cuckoo, and deposits its eggs in an abode not prepared by itself.
Mosquitos abounded in swarms, and the worthy naturalist was so covered
by their stings as to be hardly recognizable; but when Mrs. Weldon
remonstrated with him for exposing himself so unnecessarily, he merely
scratched the irritated places on his skin, and said--
"It is their instinct, you know; it is their instinct."
On the 17th of June an adventure happened to him which was attended
with unexpected consequences. It was about eleven o'clock in the
morning. The insufferable heat had driven all the residents within the
dépôt indoors, and not a native was to be seen in the streets of
Kazonndé. Mrs. Weldon was dozing; Jack was fast asleep. Benedict
himself, sorely against his will, for he heard the hum of many an
insect in the sunshine, had been driven to the seclusion of his cabin,
and was falling into an involuntary siesta.
Suddenly a buzz was heard, an insect's wing vibrating some fifteen
thousand beats a second!
"A hexapod!" cried Benedict, sitting up.
Short-sighted though he was, his hearing was acute, and his perception
made him thoroughly convinced that he was in proximity to some giant
specimen of its kind. Without moving from his seat he did his utmost to
ascertain what it was; he was determined not to flinch from the
sharpest of stings if only he could get the chance of capturing it.
Presently he made out a large black speck flitting about in the few
rays of daylight that were allowed to penetrate the hut. With bated
breath he waited in eager expectation. The insect, after long hovering
above him, finally settled on his head. A smile of satisfaction played
about his lips as he felt it crawling lightly through his hair. Equally
fearful of missing or injuring it, he restrained his first impulse to
grasp it in his hand.
"I will wait a minute," he thought; "perhaps it may creep down my nose;
by squinting a little perhaps I shall be able to see it."
For some moments hope alternated with fear. There sat Benedict with
what he persuaded himself was some new African hexapod perched upon his
head, and agitated by doubts as to the direction in which it would
move. Instead of travelling in the way he reckoned along his nose,
might it not crawl behind his ears or down his neck, or, worse than
all, resume its flight in the air?
Fortune seemed inclined to favour him. After threading the entanglement
of the naturalist's hair the insect was felt to be descending his
forehead. With a fortitude not unworthy of the Spartan who suffered his
breast to be gnawed by a fox, nor of the Roman hero who plunged his
hand into the red-hot coals, Benedict endured the tickling of the six
small feet, and made not a motion that might frighten the creature into
taking wing. After making repeated circuits of his forehead, it passed
just between his eyebrows; there was a moment of deep suspense lest it
should once more go upwards; but it soon began to move again; neither
to the right nor to the left did it turn, but kept straight on over the
furrows made by the constant rubbing of the spectacles, right along the
arch of the cartilage till it reached the extreme tip of the nose. Like
a couple of movable lenses, Benedict's two eyes steadily turned
themselves inwards till they were directed to the proper point.
[Illustration: Before long the old black speck was again flitting just
above his head. -Page- 432.]
"Good!" he whispered to himself.
He was exulting at the discovery that what he had been waiting for so
patiently was a rare specimen of the tribe of the Cicindelidæ, peculiar
to the districts of Southern Africa.
"A tuberous manticora!" he exclaimed.
The insect began to move again, and as it crawled down to the entrance
of the nostrils the tickling sensation became too much for endurance,
and Benedict sneezed. He made a sudden clutch, but of course he only
caught his own nose. His vexation was very great, but he did not lose
his composure; he knew that the manticora rarely flies very high, and
that more frequently than not it simply crawls. Accordingly he groped
about a long time on his hands and knees, and at last he found it
basking in a ray of sunshine within a foot of him. His resolution was
soon taken. He would not run the risk of crushing it by trying to catch
it, but would make his observations on it as it crawled; and so with
his nose close to the ground, like a dog upon the scent, he followed it
on all fours, admiring it and examining it as it moved. Regardless of
the heat he not only left the doorway of his hut, but continued
creeping along till he reached the enclosing palisade.
At the foot of the fence the manticora, according to the habits of its
kind, began to seek a subterranean retreat, and coming to the opening
of a mole-track entered it at once. Benedict quite thought he had now
lost sight of his prize altogether, but his surprise was very great
when he found that the aperture was at least two feet wide, and that it
led into a gallery which would admit his whole body. His momentary
feeling of astonishment, however, gave way to his eagerness to follow
up the hexapod, and he continued burrowing like a ferret.
Without knowing it, he actually passed under the palisading, and was
now beyond it;--the mole-track, in fact, was a communication that had
been made between the interior and exterior of the enclosure. Benedict
had obtained his freedom, but so far from caring in the least for his
liberty he continued totally absorbed in the pursuit upon which he had
started. He watched with unflagging vigilance, and it was only when the
hexapod expanded its wings as if for flight that he prepared to
imprison it in the hollow of his hand.
All at once, however, he was taken by surprise; a whizz and a whirr and
the prize was gone!
Disappointed rather than despairing, Benedict raised himself up, and
looked about him. Before long the old black speck was again flitting
just above his head. There was every reason to hope that it would
ultimately settle once more upon the ground, but on this side of the
palisade there was a large forest a little way to the north, and if the
manticora were to get into its mass of foliage all hope of keeping it
in view would be lost, and there would be an end of the proud
expectation of storing it in the tin box, to be preserved among the
rest of the entomological wonders.
After a while the insect descended to the earth; it did not rest at
all, nor crawl as it had done previously, but made its advance by a
series of rapid hops. This made the chase for the near-sighted
naturalist a matter of great difficulty; he put his face as close to
the ground as possible, and kept starting off and stopping and starting
off again with his arms extended like a swimming frog, continually
making frantic clutches to find as continually that his grasp had been
eluded.
After running till he was out of breath, and scratching his hands
against the brushwood and the foliage till they bled, he had the
mortification of feeling the insect dash past his ear with what might
be a defiant buzz, and finding that it was out of sight for ever.
"Ungrateful hexapod!" he cried in dismay, "I intended to honour you
with the best place in my collection."
[Illustration: For that day at least Cousin Benedict had lost his
chance of being the happiest of entomologists. -Page 435.-]
He knew not what to do, and could not reconcile himself to the loss; he
reproached himself for not having secured the manticora at the first;
he gazed at the forest till he persuaded himself he could see the
coveted insect in the distance, and, seized with a frantic impulse,
exclaimed,--
"I will have you yet!"
He did not even yet realize the fact that he had gained his liberty,
but heedless of everything except his own burning disappointment, and
at the risk of being attacked by natives or beset by wild beasts, he
was just on the very point of dashing into the heart of the wood when
suddenly a giant form confronted him, as suddenly a giant hand seized
him by the nape of his neck, and, lifting him up, carried him off with
apparently as little exertion as he could himself have carried off his
hexapod!
For that day at least Cousin Benedict had lost his chance of being the
happiest of entomologists.
CHAPTER XVI.
A MAGICIAN.
On finding that Cousin Benedict did not return to his quarters at the
proper hour, Mrs. Weldon began to feel uneasy. She could not imagine
what had become of him; his tin box with its contents were safe in his
hut, and even if a chance of escape had been offered him, she knew that
nothing would have induced him voluntarily to abandon his treasures.
She enlisted the services of Halima, and spent the remainder of the day
in searching for him, until at last she felt herself driven to the
conviction that he must have been confined by the orders of Alvez
himself; for what reason she could not divine, as Benedict had
undoubtedly been included in the number of prisoners to be delivered to
Mr. Weldon for the stipulated ransom.
But the rage of the trader when he heard of the escape of the captive
was an ample proof that he had had no hand in his disappearance. A
rigorous search was instituted in every direction, which resulted in
the discovery of the mole-track. Here beyond a question was the passage
through which the fly-catcher had found his way.
"Idiot! fool! rascal!" muttered Alvez, full of rage at the prospect of
losing a portion of the redemption-money; "if ever I get hold of him,
he shall pay dearly for this freak."
The opening was at once blocked up, the woods were scoured all round
for a considerable distance, but no trace of Benedict was to be found.
Mrs. Weldon was bitterly grieved and much overcome, but she had no
alternative except to resign herself as best she could to the loss of
her unfortunate relation; there was a tinge of bitterness in her
anxiety, for she could not help being irritated at the recklessness
with which he had withdrawn himself from the reach of her protection.
Meanwhile the weather for the time of year underwent a very unusual
change. Although the rainy season is ordinarily reckoned to terminate
about the end of April, the sky had suddenly become overcast in the
middle of June, rain had recommenced falling, and the downpour had been
so heavy and continuous that all the ground was thoroughly sodden. To
Mrs. Weldon personally this incessant rainfall brought no other
inconvenience beyond depriving her of her daily exercise, but to the
natives in general it was a very serious calamity.
The ripening crops in the low-lying districts were completely flooded,
and the inhabitants feared that they would be reduced to the greatest
extremities; all agricultural pursuits had come to a standstill, and
neither the queen nor her ministers could devise any expedient to avert
or mitigate the misfortune. They resolved at last to have recourse to
the magicians, not those who are called in request to heal diseases or
to procure good luck, but to the -mganga-, sorcerers of a superior
order, who are credited with the faculty of invoking or dispelling rain.
But it was all to no purpose. It was in vain that the -mganga-
monotoned their incantations, flourished their rattles, jingled their
bells, and exhibited their amulets; it was equally without avail that
they rolled up their balls of dirt and spat in the faces of all the
courtiers: the pitiless rain continued to descend, and the malign
influences that were ruling the clouds refused to be propitiated.
The prospect seemed to become more and more hopeless, when the report
was brought to Moena that there was a most wonderful -mganga- resident
in the north of Angola. He had never been seen in this part of the
country, but fame declared him to be a magician of the very highest
order. Application, without delay, should be made to him; he surely
would be able to stay the rain.
Early in the morning of the 25th a great tinkling of bells announced
the magician's arrival at Kazonndé. The natives poured out to meet him
on his way to the -chitoka-, their minds being already predisposed in
his favour by a moderation of the downpour, and by sundry indications
of a coming change of wind.
The ordinary practice of the professors of the magical art is to
perambulate the villages in parties of three or four, accompanied by a
considerable number of acolytes and assistants. In this case the
-mganga- came entirely alone. He was a pure negro of most imposing
stature, more than six feet high, and broad in proportion. All over his
chest was a fantastic pattern traced in pipe-clay, the lower portion of
his body being covered with a flowing skirt of woven grass, so long
that it made a train. Round his neck hung a string of birds' skulls,
upon his head he wore a leathern helmet ornamented with pearls and
plumes, and about his waist was a copper girdle, to which was attached
bells that tinkled like the harness of a Spanish mule. The only
instrument indicating his art was a basket he carried made of a
calabash containing shells, amulets, little wooden idols and other
fetishes, together with what was more important than all, a large
number of those balls of dung, without which no African ceremony of
divination could ever be complete.
One peculiarity was soon discovered by the crowd; the -mganga- was
dumb, and could utter only one low, guttural sound, which was quite
unintelligible; this was a circumstance, however, that seemed only to
augment their faith in his powers.
With a stately strut that brought all his tinkling paraphernalia into
full play, the magician proceeded to make the circuit of the
market-place. The natives followed in a troop behind, endeavouring,
like monkeys, to imitate his every movement. He turned into the main
thoroughfare, and began to make his way direct to the royal residence,
whence, as soon as the queen heard of his approach, she advanced to
meet him. On seeing her, the -mganga- bowed to the very dust; then,
rearing himself to his full height, he pointed aloft, and by the
significance of his animated gestures indicated that, although the
fleeting clouds were now going to the west, they would soon return
eastwards with a rotatory motion irresistibly strong.
[Illustration: The entire crowd joined in. -Page- 441.]
All at once, to the surprise of the beholders, he stooped and took the
hand of the mighty sovereign of Kazonndé.
The courtiers hurried forward to check the unprecedented breach of
etiquette, but the foremost was driven back with so staggering a blow
that the others deemed it prudent to retire.
The queen herself appeared not to take the least offence at the
familiarity; she bestowed a hideous grimace, which was meant for a
smile, upon her illustrious visitor, who, still keeping his hold upon
her hand, started off walking at a rapid pace, the crowd following in
the rear. He directed his steps towards the residence of Alvez, and
finding the door closed, applied his strong shoulder to it with such
effect, that it fell bodily to the ground, and the passive sovereign
stood within the limits of the enclosure. The trader was about to
summon his slaves and soldiers to repel the unceremonious invasion of
his premises, but on beholding the queen all stepped back with
respectful reverence.
Before Alvez had time to ask the sovereign to what cause he was
indebted for the honour of her visit, the magician had cleared a wide
space around him, and had once again commenced his performances.
Brandishing his arms wildly he pointed to the clouds as though he were
arresting them in their course; he inflated his huge cheeks and blew
with all his strength, as if resolved to disperse the heavy masses, and
then stretching himself to his full height, he appeared to clutch them
in his giant grasp.
Deeply impressed, the superstitious Moena was half beside herself with
excitement; she uttered loud cries and involuntarily began herself to
imitate every one of the -mganga's- gestures. The entire crowd joined
in, and very soon the low guttural note of the sorcerer was lost,
totally drowned in the turmoil of howls, shrieks, and discordant songs.
To the chagrin, however, both of the queen and her subjects, there was
not the slightest intimation that the clouds above were going to permit
a rift by which the rays of the tropical sun could find a passage. On
the contrary, the tokens of improvement in the weather, which had been
observed in the early morning, had all disappeared, the atmosphere was
darker than ever, and heavy storm-drops began to patter down.
A reaction was beginning to take place in the enthusiasm of the crowd.
After all, then, it would seem that this famous -mganga- from whom so
much had been expected, had no power above the rest. Disappointment
every moment grew more keen, and soon there was a positive display of
irritation. The natives pressed around him with closed fists and
threatening gestures. A frown gathered on Moena's face, and her lips
opened with muttered words clear enough to make the magician understand
that his ears were in jeopardy. His position was evidently becoming
critical.
An unexpected incident suddenly altered the aspect of affairs.
The -mganga- was quite tall enough to see over the heads of the crowd,
and all at once pausing in the midst of his incantations, he pointed to
a distant corner of the enclosure. All eyes were instantly turned in
that direction. Mrs. Weldon and Jack had just come out of their hut,
and catching sight of them, the -mganga- stood with his left hand
pointing towards them and his right upstretched towards the heavens.
Intuitively the multitude comprehended his meaning. Here was the
explanation of the mystery. It was this white woman with her child that
had been the cause of all their misery, it was owing to them that the
clouds had poured down this desolating rain. With yells of execration
the whole mob made a dash towards the unfortunate lady who, pale with
fright and rigid as a statue, stood clasping her boy to her side. The
-mganga-, however, anticipated them. Having pushed his way through the
infuriated throng, he seized the child and held him high in the air, as
though about to hurl him to the ground, a peace-offering to the
offended gods.
[Illustration: "Here they are, captain! both of them!!"]
Mrs. Weldon gave a piercing shriek, and fell senseless to the earth.
Lifting her up, and making a sign to the queen that all would now be
right, the -mganga- retreated carrying both mother and child through
the crowd, who retreated before him and made an open passage.
Alvez now felt that it was time to interfere. Already one of his
prisoners had eluded his vigilance, and was he now to see two more
carried off before his eyes? was he to lose the whole of the expected
ransom? no, rather would he see Kazonndé destroyed by a deluge, than
resign his chance of securing so good a prize. Darting forwards he
attempted to obstruct the magician's progress; but public opinion was
against him; at a sign from the queen, he was seized by the guards, and
he was aware well enough of what would be the immediate consequence of
resistance. He deemed it prudent to desist from his obstruction, but in
his heart he bitterly cursed the stupid credulity of the natives for
supposing that the blood of the white woman or the child could avail to
put an end to the disasters they were suffering.
Making the natives understand that they were not to follow him, the
magician carried off his burden as easily as a lion would carry a
couple of kids. The lady was still unconscious, and Jack was all but
paralyzed with fright. Once free of the enclosure the -mganga- crossed
the town, entered the forest, and after a march of three miles, during
which he did not slacken his pace for a moment, reached the bank of a
river which was flowing towards the north.
Here in the cavity of a rock, concealed by drooping foliage, a canoe
was moored, covered with a kind of thatched roof; on this the magician
deposited his burden, and sending the light craft into mid-stream with
a vigorous kick, exclaimed in a cheery voice,--
"Here they are, captain! both of them! Mrs. Weldon and Master Jack,
both! We will be off now! I hope those idiots of Kazonndé will have
plenty more rain yet! Off we go!"
CHAPTER XVII.
DRIFTING DOWN THE STREAM.
"Off we go!" It was the voice of Hercules addressing Dick Sands, who,
frightfully debilitated by recent sufferings, was leaning against
Cousin Benedict for support. Dingo was lying at his feet.
Mrs. Weldon gradually recovered her consciousness. Looking around her
in amazement she caught sight of Dick.
"Dick, is it you?" she muttered feebly.
The lad with some difficulty arose, and took her hand in his, while
Jack overwhelmed him with kisses.
"And who would have thought it was you, Hercules, that carried us
away?" said the child; "I did not know you a bit; you were so
dreadfully ugly."
"I was a sort of a devil, you know, Master Jack," Hercules answered;
"and the devil is not particularly handsome;" and he began rubbing his
chest vigorously to get rid of the white pattern with which he had
adorned it.
Mrs. Weldon held out her hand to him with a grateful smile.
"Yes, Mrs. Weldon, he has saved you, and although he does not own it,
he has saved me too," said Dick.
"Saved!" repeated Hercules, "you must not talk about safety, for you
are not saved yet."
And pointing to Benedict, he continued,--
"That's where your thanks are due; unless he had come and informed me
all about you and where you were, I should have known nothing, and
should have been powerless to aid you."
It was now five days since he had fallen in with the entomologist as he
was chasing the manticora, and unceremoniously had carried him off.
As the canoe drifted rapidly along the stream, Hercules briefly related
his adventures since his escape from the encampment on the Coanza. He
described how he had followed the kitanda which was conveying Mrs.
Weldon; how in the course of his march he had found Dingo badly
wounded; how he and the dog together had reached the neighbourhood of
Kazonndé, and how he had contrived to send a note to Dick, intending to
inform him of Mrs. Weldon's destination. Then he went on to say that
since his unexpected -rencontre- with Cousin Benedict he had watched
very closely for a chance to get into the guardeddépôt, but until now
had entirely failed. A celebrated -mganga- had been passing on his way
through the forest, and he had resolved upon impersonating him as a
means of gaining the admittance he wanted. His strength made the
undertaking sufficiently easy; and having stripped the magician of his
paraphernalia, and bound him securely to a tree, he painted his own
body with a pattern like that which he observed on his victim's chest,
and having attired himself with the magical garments was quite equipped
to impose upon the credulous natives. The result of his stratagem they
had all that day witnessed.
He had hardly finished his account of himself when Mrs. Weldon, smiling
at his success, turned to Dick.
"And how, all this time, my dear boy, has it fared with you?" she asked.
Dick said,--
"I remember very little to tell you. I recollect being fastened to a
stake in the river-bed and the water rising and rising till it was
above my head. My last thoughts were about yourself and Jack. Then
everything became a blank, and I knew nothing more until I found myself
amongst the papyrus on the river-bank, with Hercules tending me like a
nurse."
"You see I am the right sort of -mganga-" interposed Hercules; "I am a
doctor as well as a conjurer."
"But tell me, Hercules, how did you save him?"
"Oh, it was not a difficult matter by any means," answered Hercules
modestly; "it was dark, you know, so that at the proper moment it was
quite possible to wade in amongst the poor wretches at the bottom of
the trench, and to wrench the stake from its socket. Anybody could have
done it. Cousin Benedict could have done it. Dingo, too, might have
done it. Perhaps, after all, it was Dingo that did it."
"No, no, Hercules, that won't do," cried Jack; "besides, look, Dingo is
shaking his head; he is telling you he didn't do it."
"Dingo must not tell tales, Master Jack," said Hercules, laughing.
But, nevertheless, although the brave fellow's modesty prompted him to
conceal it, it was clear that he had accomplished a daring feat, of
which few would have ventured to incur the risk.
Inquiry was next made after Tom, Bat, Actæon, and Austin. His
countenance fell, and large tears gathered in his eyes as Hercules told
how he had seen them pass through the forest in a slave-caravan. They
were gone; he feared they were gone for ever.
Mrs. Weldon tried to console him with the hope that they might still be
spared to meet again some day; but he shook his head mournfully. She
then communicated to Dick the terms of the compact that had been
entered into for her own release, and observed that under the
circumstances it might really have been more prudent for her to remain
in Kazonndé.
"Then I have made a mistake; I have been an idiot, in bringing you
away," said Hercules, ever ready to depreciate his own actions.
"No," said Dick; "you have made no mistake; you could not have done
better; those rascals, ten chances to one, will only get Mr. Weldon
into some trap. We must get to Mossamedes before Negoro arrives; once
there, we shall find that the Portuguese authorities will lend us their
protection, and when old Alvez arrives to claim his 100,000 dollars--"
"He shall receive a good thrashing for his pains," said Hercules,
finishing Dick's sentence, and chuckling heartily at the prospect.
It was agreed on all hands that it was most important that Negoro's
arrival at Mossamedes should be forestalled. The plan which Dick had so
long contemplated of reaching the coast by descending some river seemed
now in a fair way of being accomplished, and from the northerly
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