"We take rank with Muata, if he is the head chief; not out of pride, you understand, but out of policy. So just keep cool. Just look as if you were a sixth-form boy approached by a deputation from the kids. See?"

"I'll be as cool and haughty as a----"

"Freshman in a bun-shop," interposed Venning. "Me, too;" and he put on a high and mighty look.

"Don't overdo it, my boy," said Mr. Hume, with a grave smile.

There were seven men coming up, and they breasted the slope in single file at a walk which quickly got over the ground. On reaching the ledge they advanced at a trot up to within a few feet, when they suddenly halted, grounded their spears with a clang, and raised the right hand with the fingers spread. They were fine lads, straight of limb, supple and lithe, without, however, much show of muscle.

Their quick glances, with a certain quality of wildness in the eyes, ranged over the three seated and silent whites.

"Greeting, O white men from out the forest, and the water beyond, and the father of waters beyond that." The spokesman stepped forward. "Greeting from the great black one, the river-wolf--he who met the wild man of the woods alone; he who crept in at the gate and slew the man-hunters; he the chief Muata. Greeting to the lion- killer, the cleaver of heads, the maker of plans, who came out of the mist in a shining boat. Greeting to the young lions who slew the tree-lion."

"What is your word?"

"The great chief awaits at the war council."

"Go down and tell your chief we will descend when we have made war medicine."

"Wow!" The spokesman fell back into the ranks. The seven warriors stood for a time in silence; then, at a word from the spokesman, they went through a salute, turned, and marched back in single file, chanting a war song as they went, as an accompaniment to a dancing stride.

"What is the war medicine we are to make, sir?"

"Just the remains of our breakfast and supper, with a dose of quinine to finish up."

"And those chaps will be telling the people down below that we are making strong medicine, warranted to kill Ha.s.san at sight, and ward off spears, bullets, mosquitoes, and Arab swords."

"Well, it will give them courage, if they think all that," said Mr.

Hume, coolly, as he inspected the rations.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE FIGHT IN THE DEFILE

In the afternoon, having hidden away the reserve ammunition, they at last went down to the war council a.s.sembled under the tree in the village. Mindful of the instructions of Mr. Hume, the two boys were quite self-possessed and incurious, though it was a great effort to restrain expressions of surprise when they were face to face with Muata.

If they were under the necessity to play a part, so in a greater measure was he. The men about him were a mixed lot--of adventurers who had been compelled to seek a harbourage from revengeful enemies, of fugitives who had escaped from the slave gangs--and they were of several tribes. Only a strong hand could keep them in order, and Muata could not afford for a moment to sacrifice his authority. He was master in that valley, or nothing. Hence he received the greeting of his old white friends without a sign of cordiality.

His naturally fine face was hideous in war-paint, two lines of yellow extending to his ears from the comers of his mouth, and another black line running from the centre of the forehead down between the eyes. Two long black feathers were secured in his head circlet, and about his throat he wore a necklace made of the teeth of the gorilla and the claws of a lion. His eyes were fierce and bright, and the quivering of his nostrils showed also that he was labouring under suppressed excitement. Mr. Hume recognized at once that he was face to face with a crisis, and instinctively he realized that it depended on him to save the situation, not only for himself and his young companions, but for Muata also. His calm eyes travelled over the ring of black faces behind the chief. He saw there were two parties. On one side were the young warriors, men of the chiefs age, who probably had been brought up in the valley; on the other was a larger number of older men, whose lowering looks told a tale of distrust and incipient revolt.

"Behold," he said, making up his mind to the role he would play, "we are the chief's 'white men.' We have made strong medicine. Shall I speak, O black bull of the forest?"

"Speak," said Muata, who had caught the hunter's eye when he acknowledged himself to be the chief's white man.

"Thus says the medicine," said the hunter, in his deep tones. "There are wolves on the way to eat up the people of this place."

"Eh--hum!" sneered the older men. "We know."

"We are ready for them," shouted the young warriors.

"Ye know--yes; but thus says my medicine--that you are not agreed among yourselves."

"Er--hum!"

The hunter paused, and his strange eyes dwelt on the faces of the old men so that they looked away.

"There are some among you who would make terms with the enemy. There were some who had sent secret word to Ha.s.san. Go ye a little way up the slope and ye will see the bodies of some of those slain in their treachery!"

"Wow!" The older men exchanged uneasy glances, and a woman's voice rang out exultingly, "Ye speak the truth, O lion."

"Thus says my medicine. If ye do not stand together, the enemy will enter at the gates, and not one will be left alive, for Ha.s.san will slay those whose hearts were with him as he will those who were against him."

One of the older warriors interrupted, shooting a finger at Muata.

"Great one, give us the word that we may slay this dog who comes to make trouble. Is this the counsel of a wise man on the coming of the enemy?"

"What would you do with him?" asked Muata, suavely.

"Send him after those others;" and the man pointed up the hill.

"You stand alone in your words," said the chief, doubtfully.

The spokesman, with a look of fierce triumph, looked around.

"These also I speak for."

"Haw!" said the chief, slowly, running his eye over the old men.

"All men of wisdom! Do ye all hold with these words? Be not hasty.

Ye have heard the words of the white man. Think well before ye speak."

"How do we know that he is not Ha.s.san's man?" said the first spokesman, fiercely. "He was summoned to the council when the sun was young, and he has only now come. Who vouches for him?"

"I--Muata, the chief. Yet Muata does not give face to him or to you.

Ye have heard both sides. Think well and decide quickly, for the day is pa.s.sing, and we must be at the gates this night. First let me know"--and the chief's voice was very mild--"do we agree in resisting Ha.s.san, or is it that we differ about the white men?"

"We will fight against Ha.s.san," said the spokesman, quickly; "but this white man has spoken evil words. We know him not; and if thus early he begins to make mischief, what will happen when the fight is fierce? Stand by me, friends, so that the chief may see our mind."

"Nay," said an older man, who had been watching the chiefs face-- "nay, let us talk the matter over."

But it was too late, and the spokesman stepped aside, drawing with him a score of men.

"Is that all?" asked the chief, quietly, and his eyes ran keenly over the faces of the other warriors. "I will consider, for it is well that we should have no differences."

"Hark to the wisdom!" shouted the warriors.

"We must stand together," continued Muata, "or we fall. And I am glad of this thing; it has shown our weakness." He stood a moment, then, with a sudden glance back at his young men, he bounded forward, and with one stroke of his terrible knife struck the leader of the band to the ground. "Hold!" he roared, as the young men, with a terrific shout, sprang forward. "Let a man move but a hand, and he is dead."

There was one breathless moment, during which men stood with upraised spears, their eyes glaring, their b.r.e.a.s.t.s heaving, and their breath coming in quick gasps. A woman laughed and the tension slackened.