Courage, True Hearts - Part 44
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Part 44

They made a hearty meal nevertheless, washing it down with a modic.u.m of wine and water.

They were now ready for further adventures, but of course had no idea what was in store for them.

Well, the forest was soon left far behind, and, much to their astonishment, they perceived mountains ahead of them so high that snow lay white on their conical summits.

In an hour or two they were over a charming valley, and so low down that they could see the black natives running about in a great state of excitement, having evidently caught sight of the aeronauts.

"Fortune favours the brave," cried Duncan exultantly. "Here shall we descend, and make a.s.surance doubly sure, and the safety of our friends certain."

With a little manipulation of the valves, a descent was made far more easily than any one could have imagined. Anchors were let go, and soon it was possible for all hands, including even Vike, to get out of the car.

An innovation awaiting them which they had little expected. Here were at least a thousand spear-armed warriors a.s.sembled, and as they came towards them, all threw themselves on their faces, or bent themselves in att.i.tudes of worship.

"Here's a wind-up to a windy day," cried Frank laughing. "Why, these chaps evidently take us for G.o.ds!"

"It would seem so," said Duncan, "but I for one don't feel quite up to that form."

One of the savages was held aloft in a kind of sedan-chair, and was evidently the chief or king. He was the most hideous-looking savage it is possible to imagine; extremely corpulent, with a cruel, cut-throat expression of face; small deep-set eyes, and cheeks covered with parallel scars about an inch long. His hair in front hung straight down in tiny ringlets over a retreating forehead.

One should never show fear before savages. Duncan knew this, and walking boldly up to the huge travelling throne he saluted him in an off-hand way, and addressed him in English.

His majesty only shook his hideous head, but pointed with his spear towards his army.

Every one sprang up and stood erect, but silent as the grave.

"C'rambo!" said the king.

And C'rambo advanced smiling.

Very different was this tall, lithe, and supple-looking savage to any about him. His skin was yellow instead of black. His smile was a forbidding, sarcastic leer, and although our heroes knew nothing of African savages, any coasting sailor could have told them this man was a Somali.

In his right hand he carried three ugly spears, one of which was attached by a cord to his wrist, while on his left forearm was a small round shield--such as are worn by the tribes on the eastern coast north of the line.

This fellow first salaamed to the chief, addressing him in a harsh and guttural jangle of words. Then he turned haughtily towards our heroes.

"Who am you, and whe' you comes from?"

"First and foremost," replied Duncan, quite as haughtily, "who are you?

Whose country are we in, and how far from the coast are we?"

"Humph! You feels dam bold, eh? Suppose I holds up my leetle white finger, King Slaleema's men den cut all your troats plenty much quick."

In spite of a feeling of doubt and fear that dwelt at his heart, Duncan burst out laughing.

"Your little white finger, my friend, is as yellow as a duck's foot.

"You see this little revolver?" he added. "Your life and five more of your beastly lot, including your pig of a king, lie in these chambers.

Have you any particular longing to be stretched? If not, civility will pay you. Now, will you answer?"

Both Frank and Conal, following their captain's lead, had laid their hands on their pistol-b.u.t.ts.

"Pay?" said the fellow. "S'pose you gift me, I do most anything. Wot you wants foh to know?"

"We will give you gifts. What would you like?"

"English food, tools, a lifel (rifle). Money no good."

"You're modest, but we are liberal. How far are we from the coast?"

"Foh one Englishmans six week. Foh one gentleman Somali, plaps one."

"How many miles?"

"I not count, free undled, plaps. Plaps mo'. Plenty savage, plenty folest (forest), lion, tiger, and 'gators in de ribbers. Pletty soon de gobble up poo' little Englishmans."

"Where did you learn your English?"

"At de court ob de Sultan ob Zanzibar. But I cut de troats ob two tree men and den fly in one canoe. I now King Slaleema's plime minister."

"And a bonnie ticket you are," said Duncan. "Now, listen; if you will carry a letter to Lamoo and bring an answer you shall have a gun on your return with the reply. The letter shall be for the Sultan. Are you agreed?"

The fellow seized Duncan's hand and pressed it to his brow.

"De bargain am made," he cried. "I'se ready. All de way I run.

Carrambo hab de good legs."

"Who called you Carrambo?"

"De dam Portugee. I cut tree, four troats all de same."

The recollection caused him to laugh. But he now spat viciously on the ground.

"De Portugee all fools. Pah!" he cried in disgust.

"Now," he added, "I ver goot man. I not cheatee you. I come back plenty twick (quick). Bling de answer all same too. But take care."

"Care of what?"

"Ob you' dam troats. Dese savage tink you come flom 'eaben (heaven). I tell 'em, dis quite tlue. S'pose dey not b'lieve, den dey kill and eat you."

"Hah! Cannibals, are they? How very comforting!"

"Eberyone cannibals heah. De dog, dey tink, am de debbil. Again I say to Slaleema, all tlue."

"Well, Carrambo, perhaps you are a much more honest fellow than you look. And you don't look a saint."

"All beesiness, sah. You gib me one gun and plenty 'munition, den I selve (serve) you. S'pose a Portugee say I gib you tree gun, cut all der troats; I cut all your troats plenty much quick, and King Slaleema he gobble you up foh tlue."

"You're an honest, faithful fellow, Carrambo," said Duncan sarcastically.