In Search of the Okapi Part 55

"I smell meat!"

The voice came now from another quarter, and then the lights shone out one after another.

"What meat is this, sister?"

"Indhlovu."

"Wow! There are fat pickings on the bones of the great one; but he is powerful. I hear his trumpeting."

"Haw! it is the voice of the unseen, mother. Indhlovu has fallen into the pit that was set for him. His power has gone."

Again the voices ceased, again the strange lights were dimmed; but the Hunter was ready, for he knew now they were quartering the cave in search of him. He had no fear, only a feeling of intense disgust, coupled with a determination to scare the lives out of these ghouls, if they ventured on an attack. By-and-by he beard faint rustlings, and then breathings; but it was impossible to see, and he sat perfectly still. Then the voices broke out again at another point.

"He is here, my sisters."

"Wow! We are hungry; let us eat. We are thirsty; let us drink."

"Sisters, terrible is the power in the arm of Indhlovu. He strikes, and lo! as a falling tree sweeps a pa.s.sage through the forest, so would he sweep us away. Let him weaken; let hunger fasten on his vitals, and fear trouble his brain."

"We are wolves; we would tear him down in his strength, while his blood is red."

"Terrible is the trunk of Indhlovu, and terrible is the arm of Ngonyama. In his hand is a broad knife, and with one stroke will he split a head. Let the darkness hold him."

"We hunger, and he will go. The wizard will claim him for his own; the dark waters will drag him down. Give him to us."

"He watches over his cub, and who so fierce as the lion who protects his young? The cub will sicken. The sound of the waters will trouble his brain; his spirit will fly before the terror of the darkness.

Wait, my sisters, till his cub be dead."

"Demons!" cried the Hunter, his patience gone in a storm of fury.

"Away!" He sprang forward with a roar, and his knife, whistling through the air, fell upon the gleaming cone, and struck from it sparks of fire.

With cries of fear the women--if women they were--fled, their lights showing again from the second exit, where was the beaten footway, and then out of the dark tunnel came a peal of fiendish laughter.

Then silence, or, rather, a relief from the mocking voices; but there was a reminder of their presence in one of those pale greenish lights. He strode towards it, saw it had been dropped, picked it up, and found that it came from some substance held in a bag of open network. With a short laugh he saw it was fungus, a discovery that took all the mystery out of the recent performance, and since it appeared that the only thing formidable about his persecutors was their trickery in making the most of the terrors of the dark, he remade the fire, for there was no mistaking the chillness of the air. As he thought over the fantastic doings of the visitors, he laughed again, and presently feeling the warmth of the fire, he yawned and closed his eyes.

"Only a parcel of women," he muttered, and was asleep.

And as he slept, believing there was no danger, the shadows closed in as the fire dwindled--closed in, taking queer shapes. Across the smooth, gleaming surface of the cone these shadows came, like stooping forms, with long lean arms. There were whisperings, too, "clicks" made by the tongue, and Venning, opening his eyes, suddenly heard these sounds at once, notwithstanding the walls of the cavern trembled to the hollow thunder of the waters. His eyes fell upon something beyond-the fire. He did not move, or cry out, or wonder where he was; his mind was focussed like his wide-opened eyes on that object. It was like a face, and yet he could not make out whether it was the face of man, or bird, or beast, or reptile. One glance at the thing by any one else would have been more than enough, so terrible it was; but Venning's overpowering curiosity as a naturalist mercifully blotter-put the horror. He was trying to identify it, and made mental notes such as these:--

"Forehead low, receding; brows contracted; eyes small, deep-set, venomous; lower part of face banded black, and undecipherable; neck long, skinny, vulture-like; rest of body not visible."

"Snake, or wild-cat," he said.

"Eh?" said Mr. Hume, waking at once.

There was a ring of metal, a sudden babel of fierce cries, the flash of a rifle-shot, and the clap of the report, followed by shrieks.

"It's all right, lad," shouted Mr. Hume, as Venning straggled to rise; "keep down."

There was a sharp hissing. Something struck the rock above the Hunter as he was stooping over Venning, and fell down into the fire.

It was a barbed arrow. He fired again, scattered the fire with a kick, and crouched over the boy. Several arrows rang viciously against the rock. He felt for Venning's carbine, swung it round with one hand, and emptied the magazine, firing at different points. With yells of disappointment, rage, and fear, the creatures of the night fled once more.

"Are you all right, my boy?"

"Yes; but what does it mean? What were they? I thought the thing was a snake."

"What did you see?"

"Something staring out of the shadows. I could not make out what it was, and as you awoke it seemed to jump forward and strike."

"Ay, the blow fell on my belt. Thank G.o.d, you warned me; but it was my fault. I should have kept awake. They're only women, lad. Don't let any fancies come into your head."

Venning sniffed. "Smell anything? Seems to me like sulphur."

"It's the gunpowder fumes, hanging low."

Venning sat up. "What is that booming noise?"

"The sound of falling water."

The boy was silent for some time, while the Hunter reloaded the carbine and his Express.

"So---we are still down below."

"But I know the way out, and as soon as it is daylight we'll get back into the valley. Have no fears."

Venning's hand went out to feel for his companion. "I must have given you a lot of trouble. You've got your coat off."

"I didn't want it, and it came in handy as a pillow."

"Put it on," said Venning, "and give me my gun."

Mr. Hume laughed cheerily. "Feeling yourself again--eh? Well, that's good. And now we'll put an end to this nonsense."

"I certainly smell sulphur," said Venning; "and what is that blue streak there?" He took a step towards the smooth cone. "It is sulphur!" he cried. "See, it's burning."

Mr. Hume stepped to his side, and saw the unmistakable blue flame given off by burning sulphur, while a whiff of the fumes made him choke.

"You're right; it's a ma.s.s of sulphur. The burning wad front the cartridge must have set it alight." He sliced off the burning patch with his knife. "We don't want to be fumigated, or to die of suffocation. Now, if you feel strong enough, we'll explore the cave."

"Is it safe? I mean, are there any chasms?"

"Smooth as a floor. Keep close by me."

They examined the cavern carefully by means of the strange lantern filled with fungus, and Mr. Hume halted by the second exit.

"This is where they enter," he said, "and I think our best plan will be to build a fire in the mouth. We should then have the advantage over them, as we should see them once they came into the reflection."

They set about collecting wood, when Venning had a thought.