Chapter 18
Meriem and Bwana were sitting on the verandah together the following
day when a horseman appeared in the distance riding across the
plain toward the bungalow. Bwana shaded his eyes with his hand and
gazed out toward the oncoming rider. He was puzzled. Strangers
were few in Central Africa. Even the blacks for a distance of
many miles in every direction were well known to him. No white man
came within a hundred miles that word of his coming did not reach
Bwana long before the stranger. His every move was reported to
the big Bwana--just what animals he killed and how many of each
species, how he killed them, too, for Bwana would not permit the
use of prussic acid or strychnine; and how he treated his "boys."
Several European sportsmen had been turned back to the coast
by the big Englishman's orders because of unwarranted cruelty to
their black followers, and one, whose name had long been heralded
in civilized communities as that of a great sportsman, was driven
from Africa with orders never to return when Bwana found that his
big bag of fourteen lions had been made by the diligent use of
poisoned bait.
The result was that all good sportsmen and all the natives loved
and respected him. His word was law where there had never been
law before. There was scarce a head man from coast to coast who
would not heed the big Bwana's commands in preference to those of
the hunters who employed them, and so it was easy to turn back any
undesirable stranger--Bwana had simply to threaten to order his
boys to desert him.
But there was evidently one who had slipped into the country
unheralded. Bwana could not imagine who the approaching horseman
might be. After the manner of frontier hospitality the globe round
he met the newcomer at the gate, welcoming him even before he had
dismounted. He saw a tall, well knit man of thirty or over, blonde
of hair and smooth shaven. There was a tantalizing familiarity
about him that convinced Bwana that he should be able to call the
visitor by name, yet he was unable to do so. The newcomer was
evidently of Scandinavian origin--both his appearance and accent
denoted that. His manner was rough but open. He made a good
impression upon the Englishman, who was wont to accept strangers
in this wild and savage country at their own valuation, asking no
questions and assuming the best of them until they proved themselves
undeserving of his friendship and hospitality.
"It is rather unusual that a white man comes unheralded," he said,
as they walked together toward the field into which he had suggested
that the traveler might turn his pony. "My friends, the natives,
keep us rather well-posted."
"It is probably due to the fact that I came from the south," explained
the stranger, "that you did not hear of my coming. I have seen no
village for several marches."
"No, there are none to the south of us for many miles," replied
Bwana. "Since Kovudoo deserted his country I rather doubt that one
could find a native in that direction under two or three hundred
miles."
Bwana was wondering how a lone white man could have made his way
through the savage, unhospitable miles that lay toward the south.
As though guessing what must be passing through the other's mind,
the stranger vouchsafed an explanation.
"I came down from the north to do a little trading and hunting," he
said, "and got way off the beaten track. My head man, who was the
only member of the safari who had ever before been in the country,
took sick and died. We could find no natives to guide us, and so
I simply swung back straight north. We have been living on the
fruits of our guns for over a month. Didn't have an idea there
was a white man within a thousand miles of us when we camped last
night by a water hole at the edge of the plain. This morning I
started out to hunt and saw the smoke from your chimney, so I sent
my gun bearer back to camp with the good news and rode straight
over here myself. Of course I've heard of you--everybody who comes
into Central Africa does--and I'd be mighty glad of permission to
rest up and hunt around here for a couple of weeks."
"Certainly," replied Bwana. "Move your camp up close to the river
below my boys' camp and make yourself at home."
They had reached the verandah now and Bwana was introducing the
stranger to Meriem and My Dear, who had just come from the bungalow's
interior.
"This is Mr. Hanson," he said, using the name the man had given him.
"He is a trader who has lost his way in the jungle to the south."
My Dear and Meriem bowed their acknowledgments of the introduction.
The man seemed rather ill at ease in their presence. His host
attributed this to the fact that his guest was unaccustomed to
the society of cultured women, and so found a pretext to quickly
extricate him from his seemingly unpleasant position and lead him
away to his study and the brandy and soda which were evidently much
less embarrassing to Mr. Hanson.
When the two had left them Meriem turned toward My Dear.
"It is odd," she said, "but I could almost swear that I had known
Mr. Hanson in the past. It is odd, but quite impossible," and she
gave the matter no further thought.
Hanson did not accept Bwana's invitation to move his camp closer
to the bungalow. He said his boys were inclined to be quarrelsome,
and so were better off at a distance; and he, himself, was around
but little, and then always avoided coming into contact with the
ladies. A fact which naturally aroused only laughing comment on
the rough trader's bashfulness. He accompanied the men on several
hunting trips where they found him perfectly at home and well
versed in all the finer points of big game hunting. Of an evening
he often spent much time with the white foreman of the big farm,
evidently finding in the society of this rougher man more common
interests than the cultured guests of Bwana possessed for him.
So it came that his was a familiar figure about the premises by
night. He came and went as he saw fit, often wandering along in
the great flower garden that was the especial pride and joy of My
Dear and Meriem. The first time that he had been surprised there
he apologized gruffly, explaining that he had always been fond
of the good old blooms of northern Europe which My Dear had so
successfully transplanted in African soil.
Was it, though, the ever beautiful blossoms of hollyhocks and phlox
that drew him to the perfumed air of the garden, or that other
infinitely more beautiful flower who wandered often among the blooms
beneath the great moon--the black-haired, suntanned Meriem?
For three weeks Hanson had remained. During this time he said that
his boys were resting and gaining strength after their terrible
ordeals in the untracked jungle to the south; but he had not been
as idle as he appeared to have been. He divided his small following
into two parties, entrusting the leadership of each to men whom he
believed that he could trust. To them he explained his plans and
the rich reward that they would win from him if they carried his
designs to a successful conclusion. One party he moved very slowly
northward along the trail that connects with the great caravan
routes entering the Sahara from the south. The other he ordered
straight westward with orders to halt and go into permanent camp
just beyond the great river which marks the natural boundary of
the country that the big Bwana rightfully considers almost his own.
To his host he explained that he was moving his safari slowly toward
the north--he said nothing of the party moving westward. Then, one
day, he announced that half his boys had deserted, for a hunting
party from the bungalow had come across his northerly camp and
he feared that they might have noticed the reduced numbers of his
following.
And thus matters stood when, one hot night, Meriem, unable to sleep,
rose and wandered out into the garden. The Hon. Morison had been
urging his suit once more that evening, and the girl's mind was in
such a turmoil that she had been unable to sleep.
The wide heavens about her seemed to promise a greater freedom from
doubt and questioning. Baynes had urged her to tell him that she
loved him. A dozen times she thought that she might honestly give
him the answer that he demanded. Korak fast was becoming but a
memory. That he was dead she had come to believe, since otherwise
he would have sought her out. She did not know that he had even
better reason to believe her dead, and that it was because of that
belief he had made no effort to find her after his raid upon the
village of Kovudoo.
Behind a great flowering shrub Hanson lay gazing at the stars and
waiting. He had lain thus and there many nights before. For what
was he waiting, or for whom? He heard the girl approaching, and
half raised himself to his elbow. A dozen paces away, the reins
looped over a fence post, stood his pony.
Meriem, walking slowly, approached the bush behind which the waiter
lay. Hanson drew a large bandanna handkerchief from his pocket and
rose stealthily to his knees. A pony neighed down at the corrals.
Far out across the plain a lion roared. Hanson changed his position
until he squatted upon both feet, ready to come erect quickly.
Again the pony neighed--this time closer. There was the sound of
his body brushing against shrubbery. Hanson heard and wondered how
the animal had gotten from the corral, for it was evident that he
was already in the garden. The man turned his head in the direction
of the beast. What he saw sent him to the ground, huddled close
beneath the shrubbery--a man was coming, leading two ponies.
Meriem heard now and stopped to look and listen. A moment later
the Hon. Morison Baynes drew near, the two saddled mounts at his
heels.
Meriem looked up at him in surprise. The Hon. Morison grinned
sheepishly.
"I couldn't sleep," he explained, "and was going for a bit of a
ride when I chanced to see you out here, and I thought you'd like
to join me. Ripping good sport, you know, night riding. Come on."
Meriem laughed. The adventure appealed to her.
"All right," she said.
Hanson swore beneath his breath. The two led their horses from the
garden to the gate and through it. There they discovered Hanson's
mount.
"Why here's the trader's pony," remarked Baynes.
"He's probably down visiting with the foreman," said Meriem.
"Pretty late for him, isn't it?" remarked the Hon. Morison. "I'd
hate to have to ride back through that jungle at night to his camp."
As though to give weight to his apprehensions the distant lion
roared again. The Hon. Morison shivered and glanced at the girl
to note the effect of the uncanny sound upon her. She appeared
not to have noticed it.
A moment later the two had mounted and were moving slowly across
the moon-bathed plain. The girl turned her pony's head straight
toward the jungle. It was in the direction of the roaring of the
hungry lion.
"Hadn't we better steer clear of that fellow?" suggested the Hon.
Morison. "I guess you didn't hear him."
"Yes, I heard him," laughed Meriem. "Let's ride over and call on
him."
The Hon. Morison laughed uneasily. He didn't care to appear at a
disadvantage before this girl, nor did he care, either, to approach
a hungry lion too closely at night. He carried his rifle in his
saddle boot; but moonlight is an uncertain light to shoot by, nor
ever had he faced a lion alone--even by day. The thought gave him
a distinct nausea. The beast ceased his roaring now. They heard
him no more and the Hon. Morison gained courage accordingly. They
were riding down wind toward the jungle. The lion lay in a little
swale to their right. He was old. For two nights he had not fed,
for no longer was his charge as swift or his spring as mighty as
in the days of his prime when he spread terror among the creatures
of his wild domain. For two nights and days he had gone empty,
and for long time before that he had fed only upon carrion. He
was old; but he was yet a terrible engine of destruction.
At the edge of the forest the Hon. Morison drew rein. He had no
desire to go further. Numa, silent upon his padded feet, crept
into the jungle beyond them. The wind, now, was blowing gently
between him and his intended prey. He had come a long way in search
of man, for even in his youth he had tasted human flesh and while
it was poor stuff by comparison with eland and zebra it was less
difficult to kill. In Numa's estimation man was a slow-witted,
slow-footed creature which commanded no respect unless accompanied
by the acrid odor which spelled to the monarch's sensitive nostrils
the great noise and the blinding flash of an express rifle.
He caught the dangerous scent tonight; but he was ravenous to
madness. He would face a dozen rifles, if necessary, to fill his
empty belly. He circled about into the forest that he might again
be down wind from his victims, for should they get his scent he
could not hope to overtake them. Numa was famished; but he was
old and crafty.
Deep in the jungle another caught faintly the scent of man and of
Numa both. He raised his head and sniffed. He cocked it upon one
side and listened.
"Come on," said Meriem, "let's ride in a way--the forest is wonderful
at night. It is open enough to permit us to ride."
The Hon. Morison hesitated. He shrank from revealing his fear in
the presence of the girl. A braver man, sure of his own position,
would have had the courage to have refused uselessly to expose the
girl to danger. He would not have thought of himself at all; but
the egotism of the Hon. Morison required that he think always of
self first. He had planned the ride to get Meriem away from the
bungalow. He wanted to talk to her alone and far enough away so
should she take offense at his purposed suggestion he would have
time in which to attempt to right himself in her eyes before they
reached home. He had little doubt, of course, but that he should
succeed; but it is to his credit that he did have some slight
doubts.
"You needn't be afraid of the lion," said Meriem, noting his
slight hesitancy. "There hasn't been a man eater around here for
two years, Bwana says, and the game is so plentiful that there is
no necessity to drive Numa to human flesh. Then, he has been so
often hunted that he rather keeps out of man's way."
"Oh, I'm not afraid of lions," replied the Hon. Morison. "I was
just thinking what a beastly uncomfortable place a forest is to
ride in. What with the underbrush and the low branches and all
that, you know, it's not exactly cut out for pleasure riding."
"Let's go a-foot then," suggested Meriem, and started to dismount.
"Oh, no," cried the Hon. Morison, aghast at this suggestion. "Let's
ride," and he reined his pony into the dark shadows of the wood.
Behind him came Meriem and in front, prowling ahead waiting a
favorable opportunity, skulked Numa, the lion.
Out upon the plain a lone horseman muttered a low curse as he saw
the two disappear from sight. It was Hanson. He had followed them
from the bungalow. Their way led in the direction of his camp, so
he had a ready and plausible excuse should they discover him; but
they had not seen him for they had not turned their eyes behind.
Now he turned directly toward the spot at which they had entered
the jungle. He no longer cared whether he was observed or not.
There were two reasons for his indifference. The first was that
he saw in Baynes' act a counterpart of his own planned abduction of
the girl. In some way he might turn the thing to his own purposes.
At least he would keep in touch with them and make sure that Baynes
did not get her. His other reason was based on his knowledge of
an event that had transpired at his camp the previous night--an
event which he had not mentioned at the bungalow for fear of drawing
undesired attention to his movements and bringing the blacks of
the big Bwana into dangerous intercourse with his own boys. He
had told at the bungalow that half his men had deserted. That
story might be quickly disproved should his boys and Bwana's grow
confidential.
The event that he had failed to mention and which now urged him
hurriedly after the girl and her escort had occurred during his
absence early the preceding evening. His men had been sitting
around their camp fire, entirely encircled by a high, thorn boma,
when, without the slightest warning, a huge lion had leaped amongst
them and seized one of their number. It had been solely due to the
loyalty and courage of his comrades that his life had been saved,
and then only after a battle royal with the hunger-enraged beast
had they been able to drive him off with burning brands, spears,
and rifles.
From this Hanson knew that a man eater had wandered into the district
or been developed by the aging of one of the many lions who ranged
the plains and hills by night, or lay up in the cool wood by day.
He had heard the roaring of a hungry lion not half an hour before,
and there was little doubt in his mind but that the man eater was
stalking Meriem and Baynes. He cursed the Englishman for a fool,
and spurred rapidly after them.
Meriem and Baynes had drawn up in a small, natural clearing. A
hundred yards beyond them Numa lay crouching in the underbrush,
his yellow-green eyes fixed upon his prey, the tip of his sinuous
tail jerking spasmodically. He was measuring the distance between
him and them. He was wondering if he dared venture a charge,
or should he wait yet a little longer in the hope that they might
ride straight into his jaws. He was very hungry; but also was he
very crafty. He could not chance losing his meat by a hasty and
ill-considered rush. Had he waited the night before until the
blacks slept he would not have been forced to go hungry for another
twenty-four hours.
Behind him the other that had caught his scent and that of man
together came to a sitting posture upon the branch of a tree in
which he had reposed himself for slumber. Beneath him a lumbering
gray hulk swayed to and fro in the darkness. The beast in the
tree uttered a low guttural and dropped to the back of the gray
mass. He whispered a word in one of the great ears and Tantor,
the elephant, raised his trunk aloft, swinging it high and low to
catch the scent that the word had warned him of. There was another
whispered word--was it a command?--and the lumbering beast wheeled
into an awkward, yet silent shuffle, in the direction of Numa, the
lion, and the stranger Tarmangani his rider had scented.
Onward they went, the scent of the lion and his prey becoming stronger
and stronger. Numa was becoming impatient. How much longer must
he wait for his meat to come his way? He lashed his tail viciously
now. He almost growled. All unconscious of their danger the man
and the girl sat talking in the little clearing.
Their horses were pressed side by side. Baynes had found Meriem's
hand and was pressing it as he poured words of love into her ear,
and Meriem was listening.
"Come to London with me," urged the Hon. Morison. "I can gather a
safari and we can be a whole day upon the way to the coast before
they guess that we have gone."
"Why must we go that way?" asked the girl. "Bwana and My Dear
would not object to our marriage."
"I cannot marry you just yet," explained the Hon. Morison, "there
are some formalities to be attended to first--you do not understand.
It will be all right. We will go to London. I cannot wait. If
you love me you will come. What of the apes you lived with? Did
they bother about marriage? They love as we love. Had you stayed
among them you would have mated as they mate. It is the law of
nature--no man-made law can abrogate the laws of God. What difference
does it make if we love one another? What do we care for anyone
in the world besides ourselves? I would give my life for you--will
you give nothing for me?"
"You love me?" she said. "You will marry me when we have reached
London?"
"I swear it," he cried.
"I will go with you," she whispered, "though I do not understand
why it is necessary." She leaned toward him and he took her in
his arms and bent to press his lips to hers.
At the same instant the head of a huge tusker poked through the
trees that fringed the clearing. The Hon. Morison and Meriem, with
eyes and ears for one another alone, did not see or hear; but Numa
did. The man upon Tantor's broad head saw the girl in the man's
arms. It was Korak; but in the trim figure of the neatly garbed
girl he did not recognize his Meriem. He only saw a Tarmangani
with his she. And then Numa charged.
With a frightful roar, fearful lest Tantor had come to frighten
away his prey, the great beast leaped from his hiding place. The
earth trembled to his mighty voice. The ponies stood for an instant
transfixed with terror. The Hon. Morison Baynes went white and
cold. The lion was charging toward them full in the brilliant
light of the magnificent moon. The muscles of the Hon. Morison
no longer obeyed his will--they flexed to the urge of a greater
power--the power of Nature's first law. They drove his spurred
heels deep into his pony's flanks, they bore the rein against the
brute's neck that wheeled him with an impetuous drive toward the
plain and safety.
The girl's pony, squealing in terror, reared and plunged upon the
heels of his mate. The lion was close upon him. Only the girl was
cool--the girl and the half-naked savage who bestrode the neck of
his mighty mount and grinned at the exciting spectacle chance had
staked for his enjoyment.
To Korak here were but two strange Tarmangani pursued by Numa, who
was empty. It was Numa's right to prey; but one was a she. Korak
felt an intuitive urge to rush to her protection. Why, he could not
guess. All Tarmangani were enemies now. He had lived too long a
beast to feel strongly the humanitarian impulses that were inherent
in him--yet feel them he did, for the girl at least.
He urged Tantor forward. He raised his heavy spear and hurled
it at the flying target of the lion's body. The girl's pony had
reached the trees upon the opposite side of the clearing. Here
he would become easy prey to the swiftly moving lion; but Numa,
infuriated, preferred the woman upon his back. It was for her he
leaped.
Korak gave an exclamation of astonishment and approval as Numa
landed upon the pony's rump and at the same instant the girl swung
free of her mount to the branches of a tree above her.
Korak's spear struck Numa in the shoulder, knocking him from his
precarious hold upon the frantically plunging horse. Freed of the
weight of both girl and lion the pony raced ahead toward safety.
Numa tore and struck at the missile in his shoulder but could not
dislodge it. Then he resumed the chase.
Korak guided Tantor into the seclusion of the jungle. He did not
wish to be seen, nor had he.
Hanson had almost reached the wood when he heard the lion's terrific
roars, and knew that the charge had come. An instant later the
Hon. Morison broke upon his vision, racing like mad for safety.
The man lay flat upon his pony's back hugging the animal's neck
tightly with both arms and digging the spurs into his sides. An
instant later the second pony appeared--riderless.
Hanson groaned as he guessed what had happened out of sight in the
jungle. With an oath he spurred on in the hope of driving the lion
from his prey--his rifle was ready in his hand. And then the lion
came into view behind the girl's pony. Hanson could not understand.
He knew that if Numa had succeeded in seizing the girl he would
not have continued in pursuit of the others.
He drew in his own mount, took quick aim and fired. The lion stopped
in his tracks, turned and bit at his side, then rolled over dead.
Hanson rode on into the forest, calling aloud to the girl.
"Here I am," came a quick response from the foliage of the trees
just ahead. "Did you hit him?"
"Yes," replied Hanson. "Where are you? You had a mighty narrow
escape. It will teach you to keep out of the jungle at night."
Together they returned to the plain where they found the Hon.
Morison riding slowly back toward them. He explained that his
pony had bolted and that he had had hard work stopping him at all.
Hanson grinned, for he recalled the pounding heels that he had seen
driving sharp spurs into the flanks of Baynes' mount; but he said
nothing of what he had seen. He took Meriem up behind him and the
three rode in silence toward the bungalow.
