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Dead Man's Land: Being the Voyage to Zimbambangwe of certain and uncertain, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 15. Who Watched The Fire? |
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_ CHAPTER FIFTEEN. WHO WATCHED THE FIRE? "Back, Mark! Back, boy!" cried Sir James wildly. "No, no; don't shoot," he continued. The words were unnecessary, for the advancing men, stunned as it were by the catastrophe, stood fast, rifle to shoulder, not daring to draw trigger for fear of injuring the lion's prisoner; but as if deaf to his father's command, Mark continued to advance on one side, the black on the other, till they were close up to the great furious beast, whose eyes were glowing like the fire reflected in them, while its horrent mane stood up as if every hair were a separate wire of gold. The savage brute, as if contented with having captured its prey, couched there perfectly still, glaring at its approaching enemies as if waiting before making its next spring, and then, exactly together, from one side the black plunged the keen blade of his long spear into its shoulder, while from the other Mark, thrusting forward his rifle, drew trigger not a yard away, sending a bullet right into the monster's skull. There was a hoarse yell, a sharp crack, the lion threw itself over backward, rolled over twice, slowly stretching itself out with extended paws tearing at the earth, and then lay still. "Dean!" cried Mark, dropping on one knee. "Oh, don't say you are hurt!" The boy slowly rose to his knees, staring confusedly at his cousin, while the doctor dashed forward in company with Sir James to examine the boy's injuries. "Dean, my boy," cried Sir James, "pray, pray speak!" And he caught at the boy's arms. Dean heard him and turned to look at him in a curious, half dazed way, but in spite of appeal after appeal he made no reply, but began to draw his handkerchief from his breast and to wipe his face, which was covered with blood and foam from the lion's lips. Then giving a strange, half hysterical cry, he exclaimed, "Oh, uncle, it was horrid--horrid!" "But where were you hurt?" cried Mark excitedly, adding half angrily, "Why don't you speak?" The boy looked at him wonderingly, as if too much confused to reply; then uttering a long-drawn sigh he said quietly, "Hurt? No, I don't think so. I say, Mark, do go and fetch my boots." "Oh, Dean, my boy," cried Sir James, half angrily, "you made us think you were half killed!" "Did I, uncle?" said the boy quietly. "I couldn't help it." "Help it, no," cried Sir James. "And you, Mark, how dared you do such a rash thing?" "I don't know, father. I was horribly frightened all the time, but I felt I must; and," he added quickly, "I say, I killed the lion--didn't I, doctor?" "Yes, and we must have that skin. Ah, take care, Mak!" For the black was advancing towards the dangerous enemy, and he looked back at the doctor, laughed, showing his glistening teeth, and then seizing the broken haft of his spear, he planted one bare foot upon the creature's shoulder, gave a tug or two, and drew it away, to stand looking dolefully at the two pieces of the weapon, which he held together as if to see whether it was possible to mend them again. "Now, doctor," said Sir James, as the two boys stood together, whispering, "we must run no more of these horrible risks. It is quite likely that another of the furious beasts may be lying not far away. What do you say, Denham?" "Yes, sir; there's another one of them, I expect--dead or alive--not far off, and perhaps we had better wait till daylight. Suppose we go right up to the fire, for nothing will follow us there." "The fire!" said the doctor sharply. "How was it we were surprised like this? You should have made it up, Mark. It was your duty to do so at the end of your watch." "I did, sir," protested Mark, in a injured tone, "and told Peter Dance to keep it well up when I left him." "Dance!--Ah, yes, Dance," cried the doctor. "Where is he? Has anyone see him?" There was no reply, but eyes were turned in all directions, as if it were possible that he might be lying there. "Poor fellow!" said Sir James sadly. "Something must have happened to him. Here, someone, hail. He may be lying wounded, and looking to us for help." "Cooey! Cooey! Cooey!" cried Bob Bacon, and then "Cooey!" again, while in dread of fresh calamity all listened for the reply that did not come. "Oh," cried Mark at last, "a lion must have leaped upon him and pulled him down while he was going his rounds." "Not likely, sir," said Buck Denham, "with the ponies and all them bullocks about." "Then where can he be?" cried Mark. "Don't you think a lion may have leaped upon him when he was making up the fire?" "Might, sir," said the man, "but lions are not likely to go near a fire. I want the day to break, so that we may follow the spoor. What I am hoping is that Peter may have been scared, and will turn up as soon as it is day and he feels safe." "That's what we all hope," said Mark, speaking for the rest. "Yes, sir; but the worst of it is that when you want the sun to rise it takes such a long time before it will." "Yes," said the doctor, who had been silently listening for a few minutes; "let's call the roll, and learn the extent of our losses." "Oh, I can pretty well tell you that, sir," said Denham: "the four ponies, and eight-and-forty of my draught oxen." "No, no, man!" said the doctor. "Not so bad as that?" "Well, not quite, sir, for I hope we may pick up some of them here and there;" and he gave Mark, who was close at hand, a nudge with his elbow. As the man ceased speaking the doctor began his roll call, as he termed it: four men did not answer to their names. "This is bad--very bad," said the doctor, in a pained voice. "I should be loth to think that Dance neglected his duty in keeping up the fire, and rendered us exposed to this attack of lions." "Well, sir, it do seem rather hard to lay it on to a man who may have got it badly, but I am afraid he let that fire out, for first thing after I come, when I looked torst where it should have been all was black as black." "Oh, tut, tut, tut!" ejaculated Sir James. "Then there's that man Brown." "He lay down to sleep close beside me, sir. I don't feel much fear about him." "And the Hottentot?" "Well, he was lying just behind Dunn Brown, and my black close to him. They'll turn up, sir, soon as it is daylight. I'm most skeart about Keeper Dance. You see, he's quite new to the country, sir.--Hah-h-h!" continued the man, drawing a deep breath. "That's better! Here's this morning coming, and welcome as the flowers of May, as the country folks say in old England. Here, Dan, my lad, we have had a bad night of it, but we shall want some breakfast all the same. What do you say to putting the billy on to boil?" "Ay, ay, mate!" cried the man addressed; and he made for the end of the nearest waggon to fetch a bucket and the great tin kettle, while the Illaka joined him on the instant. "Breakfast!" said Mark, with a look of disgust. "After such a night as this?" "Well, sir, it's not to be sneezed at," said the big driver good-humouredly, "and we shall work all the better at following up the spoor after a good mug or two of tea. Say, Mr Dean, sir, don't you feel as if a drop would do you good?" "Yes; but what a horrid night!" "Oh, not so very bad, sir. You will soon get used to lions." "But the poor bullocks?" said Mark. "Ah, that is a bit of a loss, sir, but it's only nature. Bullocks is animals as was made to be eaten, and the lions are always on the look out for their share. Well, gentlemen, I am ready. It's getting broad daylight now. We are all loaded up. What do you say to a start?" "No," said the doctor; "no one shall stir until the sun is well up." "All right, sir; you are boss; but I am getting a bit anxious to make a start. No bullocks, no more trekking, for a waggon ain't much use stuck here under the trees." Meanwhile Mak had been with Dan to fill the water vessels from the stream, an affluent of the now big river by which they were camped. Mak had helped to draw together the glowing embers, and had then gone off again unnoticed, till all at once he was heard to utter a peculiar cry and come rushing towards them at full speed, as if pursued by one of the savage beasts that had attacked them in the dark hours of the night. "Hi--hi--hi--hi!" he yelled, as he came swiftly threading his way amongst the trees, waving his hands, each armed with a half of the broken spear, and pointing with them now and then in the direction from which he had come. Rifles were held ready, and all stood waiting for the next onslaught, till the black rushed, wildly gesticulating, into their midst. _ |
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