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Dead Man's Land: Being the Voyage to Zimbambangwe of certain and uncertain, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 19. Among The Pigmies |
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_ CHAPTER NINETEEN. AMONG THE PIGMIES In utter weariness the two boys now stood their guns up against the nearest trees and let themselves sink together upon the thin bed of moist leaves that had not been eaten up, as it were, by the root action of the trees, glad of the relief to their now weary limbs, and for some time they sat in the silent darkness, utterly stunned--minutes and minutes, possibly half an hour, before Mark started to his feet, and, nerved by his cousin's movement, Dean followed his example. "Hear someone coming?" he cried, in a hoarse whisper. "No!" raged out Mark. "What are you going to do, then?" "What we ought to have done hours ago. We must have been asleep." "Asleep! No." "Well, our brains must have been. There, catch hold of your gun." As the boy spoke he seized his own by the stock, held it up with one hand as high as he could, and fired, with the sound thrown back as their voices had been by the trees. Then they sat and listened. "Shall I fire?" asked Dean, at last. "No; wait a few minutes;" and Mark rested his piece which he had discharged upon a projecting buttress-like root of the nearest tree. "Hah! What's that?" cried Dean excitedly. "That" was the soft pat, pat, of a bare foot upon the moist, leaf-strewn earth, and showing his white teeth in a satisfied grin, Mak glided into their sight and tapped each of the lads' extended hands. "Come," he said quickly. "Come 'long." Both tried to answer, but no words would come, and trying hard to shake off the emotion which troubled them, they followed their rescuer as he regularly glided in and out amongst the trees, till all at once they were standing in a small circular clearing not twenty yards across, and there they involuntarily stopped short, staring in wonderment at the dimly pictured scene that greeted their weary eyes. After what the boys had gone through it seemed something dream-like, and they were ready to fancy that in that terrible dark forest they had stumbled upon some strange abode of the fabulous gnomes or kobolds described by the old German romanticists as being the haunting inhabitants of the mines and cavernous underground regions. As the two lads followed their guide into almost nocturnal darkness they became aware of the fact that they were surrounded by some five-and-thirty little beings, not one of whom seemed to stand above four feet high. There was nothing dwarf-like about them, or sign of deformity, for they were comparatively slight, though muscular and in every way well built. Their appearance was threatening, for each man amongst them was half sheltering himself behind a tree, and standing holding a little bow with arrow having its neck in the string and drawn nearly to the head as if ready to let fly at the white strangers. The two boys stopped short, involuntarily raising their rifles ready to fire, and in the quick glance Mark swept round the little arboreal circus he caught sight of as many more of the little people, much smaller and slighter, as they cowered behind their companions. It was a swift glance, but sharp enough for the boy to realise that those were the women companions of the little men. "Shall we fire?" whispered Dean. "No; don't." "But they mean fighting." "Frightened of us," said Mark quickly. "Look, they are quite friendly towards Mak." For the big, shapely Illaka was stalking about here and there, and as he passed each little warrior with drawn bow, the little fellow lowered his weapon and looked up at the spear-armed giant as if he were their king. "Not hurt," cried Mak, and he stepped lightly about, pointing with his spear at first one and then another of the little black tribe. "Come, look," he shouted; and the boys shouldered their pieces, while Mak pointed with his spear to first one and then another, and then stopped to pat them on the back. "Mark, look," he said; "Dean, look!" And he took hold of one of them by the arm and turned him round as if to show him off as a curious specimen of humanity, while the little fellow submitted with a calm look of sufferance and submission. Mak seemed never tired of showing off his find, and ended by stretching out his strong arm and catching at and dragging forward one of the tiny women, who shrank trembling as she cowered and gazed up at the to her huge giant who was treating her as a prisoner. The tiny woman's companions looked on solemnly and made no sign of resistance, while the Illaka cropped on one knee and drew his little prisoner towards tie two boys, who looked on, full of curiosity, Mak's captive shrinking and trembling as he reached out for Mark's hand and made him, willingly enough, pat the little silent creature on the head and back. "Dean," he cried, and he extended his hand for him to administer the same friendly touches, after which the tiny woman shrank away into hiding again. "Now come," cried Mak, and as if he belonged to the little tribe, he led the way a little farther into the forest, followed slowly by some of the child-like men, to where it was evident they formed their sleeping camp and prepared their food. Here nestling in a hole which was lined with the skins of two or three of the native bucks, Mak pointed out with his spear one of the dwarfs who was cowering shrinkingly down so that the young travellers could see little of him but his flashing eyes. "Mark look," said the black sharply, and taking hold of the little fellow by the wrist he gently drew him partly out of his skin bed, uttering a curious whimpering sound as if he were in pain. "Don't hurt him, Mak," cried Dean. "Look, Dean; see," and he pointed to the little fellow's arm and shoulder, and as Mark bent down, not understanding fully in the shadow what their guide meant, it suddenly dawned upon him that the poor little fellow, who was terribly emaciated, had evidently been mauled by some savage beast, his little wasted left arm and shoulder being in a terrible, almost loathsome, state. "Look, Dean," cried Mark, shrinking with disgust, which he overcame directly, and handing his rifle to his cousin he went down on one knee, with three or four of the little tribe looking on, wonderingly, but all with a grave, solemn seriousness of aspect, while Mark took out a handkerchief from his breast and spread it tenderly over the fearful festering wound. "Isn't it horrible!" he said, turning up his head to speak to his cousin, but encountering the bent over face of the illaka looking on approvingly. "Good--boy," he said solemnly. "Mark good." The last traces of the look of disgust passed from Mark's face, and he laughed merrily at the black. "I say, Dean, I have lost my handkerchief, but I have got a good character. But, poor little beggar, that will kill him. Still, I shouldn't have liked to have missed seeing these people. Who would ever have thought there were any like them in the world!" "It makes up for our being scared," said Dean quietly; "but I didn't like seeing this. It was so horrible. There, there's no occasion to be afraid of their bows and arrows now." "I wasn't before," said Mark, "after seeing how cool Mak was amongst them. Now then, we want to go. Waggon--dinner;" and the boy pointed with his rifle, which had just been handed to him by his cousin. Mak nodded as if he fully understood, and shouldering his spear he marched back to the little circus, now followed by an increasing train of the pigmies, whose eyes gazed at their visitors with a sort of reverence; and Mark noted that the sinew strings of their little bows were slackened as they followed them amongst the trees and out to the edge of the forest, which seemed to offer no obstacle to Mak, who would probably have found it without difficulty, though in this case a couple of the tiny blacks trotted before them and then stopped at the very edge, to gaze wistfully after them till they were out of sight. "Why, boys," cried Sir James, "where have you been? We should have been quite alarmed, only we knew that you had Mak with you." _ |
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