Tom Burnaby Part 10

It was past ten o'clock when the two travellers, amid the friendly farewells of the whole village, set off on their march. Tom guessed that the expedition, being rather more than twenty-four hours ahead of them, was at this time some twenty-five miles away, and he hoped with good luck to decrease that lead very considerably before nightfall. Mbutu's load, diminished by the quant.i.ties of calico and beads already parted with, was now much lighter than when he started, so that, though shorter, he found himself quite able to keep up with Tom, who set off with an easy stride.

After about half an hour's walking, they struck into the track of the expedition. It was a path not more than a foot wide, which in some parts evidently followed a previous native track, in other parts had been trodden for the first time by the advancing force. Tom was surprised to find it so narrow, until informed by Mbutu that in Africa native troops almost invariably kept single file while on the march.

The path led over rolling gra.s.sy downs, clumps of bracken and bramble here and there giving them a very home-like appearance. In one place, indeed, Tom was delighted to see a few daisies growing; he stooped and picked one, smiling, as he stuck it in his coat, to think of the thousands of daisies he had trampled under foot at home without even a pa.s.sing thought. Large trees were few and far between on the savannah, but one, which he had never seen before, seemed to Tom extraordinarily graceful--a long, straight, even stem, with a cl.u.s.ter of strange fronds spreading fan-like from its top.

The path led across streams of clear sparkling water, in which, as the sun grew hotter, Tom was glad to bathe his face and feet, and occasionally to drink. The banks of every stream of considerable size were clothed with luxuriant vegetation, palms, acacias, lianas growing thickly together, with tall gra.s.s, wild bananas, and flowering creepers which made a dazzling and beautiful picture. Crimson b.u.t.terflies darted hither and thither among the foliage. "How Jenks would revel in this on a Sat.u.r.day afternoon!" thought Tom, and was reminded that he had lost count of the days. He opened his pocket-diary, and by tracing back his recent adventures found that it was Sat.u.r.day, the 8th of June. "And to-morrow's Uncle Jack's birthday!" he remembered. "Well, I've no present for him--except myself, and I don't suppose" (the thought was accompanied by a rueful smile) "he'll be overglad to see me--at least at first."

He was at this moment entering a patch of forest on the edge of a stream, and Mbutu pointed out some deep scratches on the grayish boles.

"What are they?" asked Tom. "They remind me of the scratches on the legs of the table in my father's study, and our old cat--heavens, how long it seems since I saw them!"

"Leopards did 'em, sah! When dey catch us dey eat us."

"Really! Then they mustn't catch us, that's all."

Just as the words were out of his mouth, a terrific crash to the left made him jump and stand watchfully bent forward with his loaded rifle.

He peered into the dense ma.s.s of foliage, but saw nothing.

"No leopard, sah; leopard no make nize."

"What is it, then?"

"Dere he are, sah! Dat him! Big amalua, sah!"

They had just reached the water's edge. Away to the left, sousing himself in the running stream, they saw a splendid elephant, with gleaming tusks that would have brought joy to a hunter's soul. Tom would have tried a shot, if he had not already proved that his rifle was hopelessly antiquated and short-ranged, and with his present responsibility he did not feel justified in running any avoidable risks.

He sighed, and pa.s.sed on, over a bridge of tree-trunks cleverly bound together by ropes made of papyrus and creepers. It had evidently been slightly repaired for the pa.s.sage of the British force, some of the plant-ropes looking fresh and new.

On the other side of the stream came another stretch of fairly level country, with short, straw-coloured gra.s.s, interrupted here and there by a swamp. By half-past five Tom calculated that they had covered no more than twenty miles, and he was uncomfortably conscious of his want of training. He had a drawn, burning sensation at the ball of his left foot, and felt pretty sure that he would find there the making of a blister. Luckily, just before sundown they came to a banana plantation, amid which, on a knoll, stood a very neat and tidy-looking hut. It happened to be empty, and Tom thought it no wrong to the absent owner to make it his quarters for the night. There were a few rough clay utensils in it, and Mbutu, fetching water from the brook which ran round the base of the knoll, soon made some tea, which, with bananas cut fresh, millet cakes, and oatmeal biscuits, furnished a satisfactory supper. Tom bathed his feet, and at Mbutu's suggestion covered them with a compress of bananas. In the morning he found, rather to his surprise, that this novel application had been most beneficial. It was only one of the hundred uses to which, as he learnt by degrees afterwards, the natives put the plant: its pulp made flour and beer, spirits and soap; its rind made plates and dishes and napkins; while its stalks provided pipes, and even material for footbridges.

Next day they started at sunrise. Walking was more arduous than it had been on the previous day, for the ground rose gradually, becoming more and more rocky, cut at intervals by ravines, and showing here and there fragments of what Tom believed must be lava. The soil was in truth volcanic; not very many miles to the south of their path stood two volcanoes still moderately active, and but a few miles north there were mountain lakes lying hidden in the craters of volcanoes long extinct.

Tom knew nothing of these, however; he was only concerned with the hard fact that walking was unpleasant, and that over the rocky ground the track of the expedition was sometimes difficult to discover. The one consolation was that, slow as their own progress was, the progress of the expedition, as the Zanzibari porters carried their loads over ravine and boulder, must necessarily be slower. Foot-sore, aching in every limb, he nevertheless pressed on indomitably, hoping against hope that he might overtake his uncle before night. But though he anxiously looked ahead through his field-gla.s.s, he saw nothing but broken, rocky country, and at five miles' distance his view was interrupted altogether by a rugged line of hills.

The sun went down in crimson splendour. There was no hut on this occasion to afford sleeping room to the weary travellers. Building a fire with some wood from a scanty copse on the bank of a ravine, they found a shelter hard by among the rocks, and slept in their rugs. Up again at day-break, they pushed on, and were pleased to find, on reaching the range of hills before mentioned, that the ground there sloped gradually downwards, and the path led once more into a gra.s.sy plain. Just before noon, after crossing a bridge, evidently new, thrown over a wider stream than any they had yet encountered, and walking up a steep gra.s.sy acclivity, Tom raised his gla.s.s to his eyes, and uttered an exclamation of thankfulness and joy.

"There they are, Mbutu!" he cried. "I see them! It must be the expedition. It's just like a long snake winding through a broad defile over there. Look! Now isn't it?"

Mbutu peered long and earnestly into the distance.

"Right, sah! I see dem big black man. Dey plenty big, plenty strong.

Soon be dar, sah; see sah him uncle."

Tom stopped short.

"Look here, Mbutu," he said, "an idea has just struck me. You mustn't be seen at first. If that scamp of a guide sees you, he will suspect something, and our long journey may be thrown away. I must go on first.

He doesn't know me."

"Berrah well, sah; all same for one."

"You're not afraid, are you? I shouldn't like a wild animal to run off with my katikiro."

Mbutu grinned.

"No 'fraid dis time, sah. Sah him uncle drive all wild beast away; all dat nize, sah; wild beast no like nize; make him tummick bad too much, sah."

"Well, I needn't leave you yet. They're still about five miles ahead, I should think, and they're almost over the hill-top now. When we get within sight of the rear-guard again, I'll go on, and you must keep in touch till you're sent for."

Tom's feet by this time were giving him torture. He felt horribly f.a.gged, and, realizing how hungry he was, he sighed, above all things in the world, for a juicy steak and a jug of shandy-gaff, such as used to await the school fifteen after a hard house match. "But I'm not going to give in at the death," he said to himself doggedly. "And I should think another couple of hours would do it."

He crossed the hill, and saw the tail-end of the force not more than two miles ahead, just pa.s.sing into a clump of trees, on the near side of which were two or three native huts.

"That's where you must stay, Mbutu. It's about four o'clock now, so the force will be camping very soon, and we shan't be far ahead of you.

Now, I'm going on. Good-bye for the present; I fancy you'll see me again after dark."

"All right, sah; so long!" The slang sounded strange in the mouth of a Muhima, and Tom's lips twitched with amus.e.m.e.nt as he turned his back.

Forty minutes later, as he was walking as fast as his sore feet allowed through a stretch of thin forest, he was halted by the bayonet of a Soudanese sergeant, who looked at him with amazement.

"All right, sergeant; I'm Major Burnaby's nephew. You can let me through."

The Soudanese happened to be one of the draft picked up at Entebbe, and thus had not seen Tom before. He seemed too much surprised to think.

The stranger was unmistakeably an Englishman, however, and he could not be going very far wrong if he sent him under guard to the major.

Calling two of his men, he instructed them to lead Tom between them to the commanding officer, who was superintending the formation of a camp about a mile ahead.

Tom limped along, feeling now too much excited, as well as exhausted, to attempt any conversation with his escort. Two minutes after leaving the sergeant, he heard a familiar voice before him.

"There now, more comfortable now, aren't ye? Just take care you don't go putting your foot on a thorn again. Bedad, it's you scoundhrels of porters that get more out of the R.A.M.C. than the soldiers at all, at all. Now just be after minding your toes, ye spalpeen."

Dr. Corney O'Brien had just extracted a thorn from a Zanzibari's foot, when he looked up and caught sight of Tom.

"By all the holy powers!" he exclaimed. "It's you!"

"Yes--it's myself, doctor," said Tom, with a feeble attempt to smile.

"'Pon my soul, I thought it was your ghost!" gasped the doctor. "Ah, faith, won't the major be pleased! I wouldn't be in your shoes for-- But, save us, the lad's dead-beat."

Excitement even more than fatigue had overcome Tom's nerve at last; but for the support of the two Soudanese he would have fallen. Quick as thought the little doctor whipped out a flask and poured a few drops of brandy between his lips.

"Now you fellows," he called to the Soudanese, "just rig up a litter.

Come, look alive! Half a minute by my watch, no more!"

The stalwart soldiers, in less than the time specified, had improvised a litter out of their rifles and a couple of coats.

"Now, my dear bhoy, we will hear Ould Blazes' remarks in ten minutes.

Gently, now."

"But, Doctor, really I can't go into camp in a litter," said Tom, whose fainting fit had lasted but a few seconds.

"Can't ye, bedad? You can't go any other way, nor you shan't if you can. Sure an' you're as thin's a lath; no wonder the leopards and lions and all the other wild cratures let ye through! No, ye're not to talk at all; I'll do the talking; just lie quiet and ride into camp in state.

Ah, but the major's face'll be a sight to see--bedad it will! I wouldn't miss it for wurrulds."