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Title: The Slave Brand of Sleman bin AliAuthor: James Anson Buck* A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook *eBook No.: 1300831h.htmlLanguage: EnglishDate first posted: Feb 2013Most recent update: Aug 2016This eBook was produced by: Blue Tyson and Roy GlashanProject Gutenberg of Australia eBooks are created from printed editionswhich are in the public domain in Australia, unless a copyright noticeis included. We do NOT keep any eBooks in compliance with a particularpaper edition.Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check thecopyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing thisfile.This eBook is made available at no cost and with almost no restrictionswhatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the termsof the Project Gutenberg of Australia License which may be viewed online athttp://gutenberg.net.au/licence.htmlTo contact Project Gutenberg of Australia go to http://gutenberg.net.au
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Rain had forsaken the Congo. Hunger stalked theland. And lean, ravenous Abama warriors led by the Golden Goddessof all the Jungle—Sheena—marched doggedly against thewalls of mighty Kilma to bury the ancient curse of Sleman binAli.
SHEENA stepped out of the pool. She shook out thewet veil of her golden hair and stood, statuesque, her bronzedbeauty glowing in a shaft of amber sunlight. The warm ray caressedher, and swiftly drank the moisture from the shimmering veil. Thenshe flashed across the little clearing to the hut which stood onstilts, five feet above the crawling earth. Quickly she shruggedinto leopard skin, and then came to stand in the doorway of thehut, looking out across the pool.
How still it was on these idle days under the thatched eaves ofthe little house. The pale fruit hung high on the ajap tree beforethe door, and, higher still, Chim, her pet ape, swung from branchto branch, performing amazing gymnastic feats, and scolding becauseshe did not laugh and shout her approval. The twelve-hour tyrannyof the sun was at its ebb, its violence done to the yellow earth ofthe clearing, and the arras of the forest hung breathless over itssecret; for here, deep in the African Congo, was the holy dwellingplace of Sheena, the Golden Goddess of the Jungle and all itstribesmen. Here no man had ever set foot, not even those whoseescutcheon was white skin and who boasted the title, Bwana. Wisemen knew better than to flaunt tribal taboos, and fools die quicklyon the forbidden trails of the Congo jungle.
The rainy season was overdue, the heat oppressive in the littleclearing even after sundown. Lightning flashed around the horizon,the thunder rolled like distant drums, and all nature waited inbreathless suspense. But no rain fell and, though Sheena knew thatit must make her forest home damp and depressing, she longed for itto come and break this brooding stillness, this tense waiting forsomething to happen.
It was a strange, new feeling that had beset her in this season,a feeling that incessantly grew out of her inner heart. She couldno longer believe that it was entirely due to the weather. It waslinked with the young trader who had come up to the Kuango post assurely as it was linked with his black, bearded companion.
Though no white man had set eyes upon Sheena, not one who cameinto her domain escaped her scrutiny. Always she liked to lookclosely into their faces when sleep had removed the mask ofconsciousness and showed the naked soul. Through their camps shestole, like a ghost in the dead of night. The trader, the hunter,explorer and missionary—she knew them all. Some were wise inthe ways of exile, and came and went their ways; others went intothe forest with a backward look, and came out with secret andstricken countenance. Sometimes one or another lingered too long inthe jungle, and then, as the Abamas said: "He sent his heart intothe dark," and built out of his lonely horror and the license ofsolitude a perverse habitation for his soul. Such men weredangerous, as deadly as the mamba.
And such a man was the Black-Bearded One, with gold rings in hisears. An evil face was his, with a cruel twist to the mouth even inrepose. But the young one, flung out on his canvas cot, bronzedchest and muscular limbs thinly veiled by mosquito netting, had notbeen hard to look at. Black curls against the white of his pillow,a strong face softened by some dream that made him smile in hissleep. Not so tall, perhaps, as Ekoti, chief of the Abamas, butthen Ekoti was a giant of a man.
WAS IT the evil she had seen in the face of the one, or was itthe disturbing which came when she thought of the other, that kepther in idleness beside this jungle pool?
She could not tell. The uncertainty made her moody andreawakened in her a craving for the trails long familiar toher—the trails that ever coiled and wound mysteriously aroundthe mountains, down into the valleys, and through the dark forest.Chim dropped to the ground and then bounced up onto the floorbeside her. She ran her hand through his black hair, and spokesoftly what was in her mind:
"Soon the rain must come, little one. Tomorrow we will leavethis place for the cave in the mountains."
Chim grimaced at her. They had never stayed in this place for solong before. He sensed his mistress' moodiness, and it made himfeel bad. He could not keep still. He swung up into the ajap treeagain, and sat scolding her in his comical way.
The sun sank behind the mountains, and shadows overflowed theclearing. The surrounding jungle was windless, yet full of hurriednoises, and the sweet, lingering song of the bush cuckoos. Soon thedrums, in the deep, absorbing silence of the forest so like theclicking of a giant telegraph, began to talk. At this hour,everywhere, the villages gave ear to the gossip of the jungle.
The drums were not of equal power, nor were their voices morealike than the voices of people are. Sheena never failed to locatea drum by its voice. In the old, primeval code all the facts oflife had their phrases, all the adventures and misadventures of theday, their announcements; and no sovereign, despite the white man'smagic, knew more of the hopes and fears of his people, or knew themsooner, than did Sheena, Queen of the Jungle.
"Your wife has borne a son!" one drum said. And somewhere on theveldt, or deep in the forest, a lone hunter paused to build aritual fire, and give thanks to his gods. Then out of the darkness,as swift as an arrow aimed at her heart, Sheena heard her own name,her own drum name, and coupled with it was this phrase:
"Aku is dead. The Bearded One killed him. Come, cross his handson his breast!"
And then there was a crying in the wilderness as one drum, andthen another, and another, sobbed out the old, poignant call tomourning.
Under the immediate thrust of it all life in the clearing seemedto be arrested, and Sheena's heart was like a cold stone in herbreast. Then, suddenly, she jumped to her feet, her hands clenched,her blue eyes blazing. So, they had dared to kill one of herpeople, a hunter brave and good. This was the thing her un-quietspirit had tried to warn her against. But she had not listened tothe small voice within her. She had seen the evil in the face ofthe Bearded One, yet she had not sent Ekoti and his warriors todrive him out. No, she had not done that, because—because, inher heart there lurked a hidden wish to talk with the young one!Ah, but she was not deaf to the small voice now. Let the white menbeware, soon they would meet Sheena face to face!
From a peg above her bed she snatched her quiver and bow; thensped down the moon-dappled trail to the Abama village, as light asdust, as swift as a cloud shadow over the veldt. From his perch inthe ajap tree Chim saw her flash down the trail, and shrieked outhis protest. To keep off the jungle trails at night was just plainmonkey-sense.
At sunrise Sheena stood on a rocky eminence, looking toward thedistant mountains, a superb figure with her hair streaming out inthe hot wind from the south-east. The rippling veldt ran out to thefoothills, and there were dark pools of shadow under the euphorbiatrees which pointed milky-jade fingers against the serene blue ofthe sky. But Sheena looked upon the familiar panorama, frowning,undeceived by its beauty. The creeks that wiggled across the plainwere showing ripples of sun-baked mud, and there was the stench ofdecaying fish in the wind. The land was drying up under thefurnace-heat of the sun, and the blistering wind from the desert.All the game was drifting south—the eland and the zebra inflashing stampede to avoid the lion and the leopard slinking ontheir flanks. If the rain did not come soon, it would be bad forher people who hunted and pastured their herds on this plain.
In the far distance the huts of the Abama village released smoketo smudge the blue of the sky. Swiftly she sped on.
THE VILLAGE surrounded a hill and straggled along thefast-drying river which looped around it like a great python.Sheena had been born among the Abamas, but not in this village. Allshe knew of her past had come to her from the lips of old N'bidEla, the witch-woman of the tribe. And that was so long ago that itwas hard to remember what the old woman had said. But sometimes, asnow when she drew near to the village, a vivid picture of N'bid Elawould arise in her mind, and she would see the old woman strike theearth with her staff and drone:
"This and I—we are very old! Soon I go to the Black Kloof.Before I go, I have words for you. Your father and your mother wereof the Tribe of God. Your skin is white, little one. You, too, areof the Tribe of God, and it is not good for you to play with blackchildren. I will tell the people to build a hut for us in theforest. I will teach you my craft. Then, when I am gone, you willbe their mata-yenda, their wise-woman, and they will obey you."
And so it had come to pass. For a long time she had lived in theforest, drinking of N'bid Ela's dark wisdom until she had suckedthe fountain dry. And more beautiful and glowing in her youth shegrew under the African sun every day. More than once N'bid Ela hadtaken her to the village on the Day of Testing when the young menof the Abama clans gathered to prove their fitness for war andwedlock. In those contests no man had proved himself swifter onfoot, or more deadly in his aim with the spear and the bow. Thetale of her prowess and wisdom had been carried from kraal tokraal, so that now there were few village headmen who would havethought to venture upon any undertaking without having firstconsulted her.
At times she wondered at N'bid Ela's strange words. Since theAbamas called all missionaries Men of the Tribe of God, shesupposed that her father had been a missionary. Beyond this shecould not think. It was foolish to try, like tugging at a vine towhich there was no fruit attached.
No one was moving on the dusty trails that criss-crossed thevillage. Goats lay panting in the shade of a grove of ironwoodtrees, and the birds perched above them held their wings fan-wiseto catch the air. The mushroom houses, shaggy with the thickest ofpalm-leaf thatch, crouched under the burden of sunlight, but in thepalavar house there was permanent dusk. The sudden glitter ofcopper ornaments was there, and the glitter of spear heads.Brilliant eyes set in dark faces, fantastic headdresses studdedwith buttons and shells and beads, The tumult and vehement gesturesof controversy were there also—and then silence when Sheenacame to stand among them.
Her eyes picked out Ekoti, the young chief of the Abamas. "Myears are open, Ekoti," she said.
"The white men sent a runner to our village," the chief said ashe got to his feet, "because they wanted to trade with us. As youknow, Sheena, we are great hunters and there is an ivory underevery man's bed in this village. It seemed good to me that weshould trade some of it for guns. And—"
"Why did you ask for guns?" Sheena interposed sharply.
Ekoti looked around him uneasily, then he took a deep breath andat length: "Nothing can be hidden from Sheena. I want the guns togo against the Arab's town. Long ago he drove our people. He droveour brothers, the M'Bama, stole many of their women and made slavesof their young men. If I think to make war against him, is it a badthing?"
Sheena gave him a cold-eyed stare. "Perhaps," she said softly,"Ekoti thinks too much of war. Perhaps it is not good for him to beChief of the Abamas."
A low murmur ran around the circle of elders, and Ekoti lookeddown at the ground. Not until the Jungle Queen smiled on him againwould his grasp on the chieftainship be firm. For a time Sheenakept him in an agony of suspense, then suddenly she smiled:
"It is good for a man to speak his heart even though it betrayhis folly. Because your chief did this without fear, I am pleasedwith him. But in your fathers' time the Abamas, like foolish youngbulls, rushed against the Arab's walls, and they broke their horns.Even if you had guns, the Arab would be too strong for you, Ekoti.Think no more of war with him. Now, go on with your story."
"I sent my uncle, Aku, with two hands of teeth to the trader'skraal," Ekoti took up his story. "I did this because once Aku wason safari with the Bearded One, and he knows the Swahili speechwhich the traders use, I sent only as many men as were needed tocarry the ivory. Truly, my head was sick when I did that! TheBearded One would not give Aku guns. No, he cheated Aku. He offeredonly cloth and beads. This made Aku angry because he knew that thetrader offered less for ten teeth—big teeth, I say—thana coast trader would give for one." He paused for breath, then wenton:
"Then Aku would have left the trader's kraal, but the BeardedOne would not let his men touch the ivory. There was a fight. Thetrader drove our people. Aku ran for the bush, but the Bearded Onefired his gun and Aku fell. Then the trader's people rushed out andseized five of ours, and took them into their kraal. Aku they tookalso. Doubtless, he is dead. Doubtless, too, the trader will killthe others if we go against him. Now, we ask you what we should doabout this thing." He sat down, and all eyes were turned uponSheena. She was silent for some time, then:
"Ekoti, you spoke only of the Bearded One. Where was the youngBwana when this evil was done?"
"We do not know, Sheena." He swept out his arm and musclesrippled under his black, satin skin. "All who came back sit herenow. And they say that the young, white man was not there."
Sheena's smile came and went quickly. Just for a moment it madeher dark eyes shine in the dim light. It was a fleeting glimpse ofthe real woman behind the taboo which was always before her like ashield. Ekoti saw it and, shrewdly guessing what had prompted it,frowned darkly, and spoke a thought fathered by the wish:
"Perhaps he has gone down the river to the coast."
Sheena shook her head. "The drums would have spoken of it," shesaid, and then fell silent, her eyes clouded with thought. Minutespassed without a sound but the labored breathing of the old men.Then:
"The trader must be shown that he cannot shoot and cheat ourpeople," she said. "We will drive him."
"Good! Good!" the elders approved in one voice. Only Ekotilooked dubious.
"How can we drive them, Sheena?" he asked. "Their kraal isstrong. They have guns. Also, they have five of our people behindtheir fence."
The Jungle Queen smiled. "You are a warrior, Ekoti, and you havenothing in your head but spears and guns. Hear me now. You havemuch ivory, also. The Bearded One wants ivory, so you will make abig safari and take all your ivory to his place."
Ekoti's jaw sagged. For a long moment he stared at her incomplete bewilderment. At last he gasped out: "Is it in your mindto give him the ivory in trade for our captured ones?"
Sheena laughed softly. "It is in my mind," she said, "to teachhim, and you, a lesson, Ekoti. Obey me, and all will be well. Beready to march at sunrise. Leave your spears behind. Let no mancarry more than his knife. I have spoken."
"I hear, and obey," said Ekoti.
At the door of the palavar house she turned suddenly and asked:"Do your wives still sew well, Ekoti?"
"Truly, Sheena."
"Good! I would talk with them now." Wearing an expression ofprofound puzzlement, Ekoti followed her out into the sunlight.
TOUGH TRADER and hunter that he was, Rick Thornefelt out of his depth in this isolated trading post on thePortuguese side of the Kuango river. It was not the heat, or theloneliness that bothered him—he was used to both. It wasLazaro Pero who had given him a bad case of the jitters. ThePortuguese had a hair-trigger temper, and his bald head, inflamedby the African sun, his beady eyes, and his hooked nose combined togive him a predatory look, strongly suggestive of the bald-headedeagles that as a boy Rick had watched circling the buttes infar-off Montana. The worst of it was, he'd been warned againstPero's blind fits of rage before he had left the coast two monthsago. And Pero was about through as senior agent up on the Kuango,according to the Chief Factor of the Companhia do Nayanda.
"His record is not good," Freire had told him when he had takenthe job. "I will be frank. Senhor Pero has not asked for anassistant but I am sending you up to him. I want to know what iswrong up there, and I expect you to find out. And I will give youfair warning. Look out for yourself, senhor. Watch Pero, he is adevil of a man."
The Chief Factor had made it plain enough that he believed Perowas trading with the Company's goods on his own account. And,certainly, there was much in Pero's talk to justify that suspicion.From the first day of his arrival, it seemed to Rick, Pero had beensounding him out, hinting darkly at some clever scheme he'd workedout, a scheme that would make a bright young fellow who knew how tokeep his mouth shut a rich man in a very short time.
And now there was this trouble with the Abamas. Why the devilhad he chosen this day to go hunting? If the old Abama headmankicked off, there'd be hell to pay.
The post was quiet now, dozing in the late afternoon heat. Thesky was cloudless, a shimmering, cobalt bowl, pouring witheringfire down on the red earth of the compound. Pero was lounging in acane chair, drinking gin.
"Where did you put that fellow?" Rick asked suddenly.
Pero pushed his glass out in the direction of one of the hutsthat faced the bungalow across the compound. "In there," heanswered, and then added callously:
"He will die at sundown. They always do."
A muscle in Rick's jaw tightened, but he said evenly: "We'resitting on a powder keg, senhor. You'd better send those otherfellows back to their village before—"
"I heard you the first time!" Pero snapped. "And I tell youagain that I am in charge here. I give the orders." He touched thebutt of his revolver. "If a black talks back, whip him; if he putshis hand on a weapon, shoot him. That's my rule, and when I giveorders I make no distinction between white men and black men.Remember this, senhor, and you will not get hurt."
Rick's mouth was shaped to an oath as he turned on his heel andwent into the main room of the bungalow. He went straight to thebig medicine chest which stood over against the wall from the door.From it he took out his own first aide kit. When he straightened upPero was standing in the doorway, his eyes narrowed to slits.
"What are you going to do with that?" he demanded.
"What I can for that poor devil you plugged," Rick told himcalmly.
"Holy Saints!" Pero's face became charged with blood. "Did younot hear me tell you to keep away from him?"
Rick put the case down on the floor with slow deliberation. Heconsidered Pero thoughtfully for a moment before he said: "I'm nota doctor, but I took a course in first aide at Luanda. And I'm notgoing to sit here and let that poor devil die just to pleaseyou."
"So!" Pero spat on the floor, then: "Just now I told you that Igive the orders here." His hand went down to his holster, and thenjerked up as he started back against the wall and froze to it."Holy Saints!" he gasped.
At the first downward movement of his hand Rick's Colt hadflashed from its holster as if by magic. Its muzzle pointedskyward, and the light glinting on its bright metal was reflectedby his gray eyes.
"Any cowhand where I come from could teach you gunplay, senhor,"he said quietly. "I don't know what you've got against that Abamaout there, and I don't know why you blasted him. I do know thatyou'd better get rid of that gun. If you're packing it when I comeback I'll take it to mean that you want to shoot it out."
THE COLT spun on his finger, and plopped snugly back into itsholster. He picked up his case and walked across the room. Thebravado had been shocked out of Pero. He kept his hands shoulderhigh and backed out of Rick's path.
The wounded Abama was stretched out on the dirt floor of thehut, with his face turned to the wall. Gently Rick rolled him ontohis back and knelt to examine the wound. The native was badly hurt,unconscious. At a glance Rick saw that the deltoid muscle had beentorn clean across near the right shoulder joint. The ends of thesinew had contracted, and if the man was to have the use of hisright arm again the torn ends of the muscle must be pulled togetherexpertly. It was a job beyond Rick's skill. The Abama groaned andopened his eyes as Rick probed and cleansed the wound. Fear cameinto his eyes, but faded as Rick patted his shoulder and smiled.Rick made things easier for him with a little opium and, as hebandaged the wound, the native said faintly in Swahili:
"It is hard to die so far from my village, Bwana."
"You will not die," Rick told him. "I will take you downriver tothe mission station. What is your name?"
"Aku, Bwana."
"You speak good Swahili, Aku. Perhaps you have traded with BwanaPero before?"
"Even so. Once I was his headman. I showed him the way to Kilma,the Arab's town."
Rick started so violently that the roll of bandage fell from hishand. He let it roll across the dirt floor, and asked: "You tookivory there, Aku?"
"Oh yes, Bwana! Big teeth we took there."
With a grunt of satisfaction Rick crawled after the roll ofbandage. He saw it all now. Pero was selling ivory to Sleman binAli who could ship it down the Congo to the Belgian ports withoutarousing suspicion. He chuckled softly. Sleman bin Ali was afreebooter of the old school. He should have known from the startthat if there was a crooked dollar to be made in the Congo the oldsinner would be reaching for it. No wonder Pero had not wanted himto talk to Aku! At the thought his face sobered, and he said:
"Let no one know that you have told me this, Aku. You will notleave this place alive if you do." Then he thought that he'd bettermake sure of it, and he gave Aku a knockout dose of opium. "Restnow," he said. "I will come for you soon."
Pero was sitting on the rail of the verandah when Rick cameback. If he had a gun it was nowhere to be seen. He tugged at hisbeard nervously as Rick came up the steps. Rick dropped into a canechair and, tilting it back, rolled a cigarette with aggravatingslowness.
"Well?" demanded Pero.
"He's got a good chance if he gets proper care. With yourpermission I'll take him down to Sao Vincente."
Sudden fear came into Pero's eyes. "So—to the mission, eh?What did he tell you?"
Rick shrugged and said, "I doped him, and I'll have to keep himthat way until he's over the shock. Besides, what could he tell me?I don't speak his dialect."
A gleam of satisfaction came into Pero's eyes. "Nothing,senhor—nothing!" he said with obvious relief. "I thought thatperhaps you would blame me. Well, I am to blame. You see, I amjust. I have a heart, too. Take him to Sao Vincente, my friend.Yes, and tell the good fathers that I will pay for everything."
Rick's slow smile quirked the corners of his mouth. "Well,that's generous," he said. "It won't be safe to move for a coupleof days, though."
"Do not delay too long, my friend. Holy Saints, I have neverknown the rain to hold off for so long. In another week there willbe enough water in the river to float a canoe, and it may be thatyou will have to come back on foot."
"Well, I'll have to take that chance," said Rick, frowning."Right now the trip would kill the poor devil."
"You know best," said Pero. "When you are ready to go take Benjiand five of my Swahilis. They know the river and will make a quicktrip for you."
Rick was not particularly happy in the choice of Benji. Pero'sheadman was a civilisado, and his exaggerated idea of theprivileges of Portuguese citizenship sometimes pushed him intodownright insolence. But he wanted to keep Pero unsuspicious untilhe had Aku safe in the mission hospital, and raised noobjection.
During the two days that followed two things began to worryRick. One was the vague feeling of uneasiness that Pero's changedattitude gave him. There was something more than the fear of hisColt behind the Portuguese's sudden affability—something hecouldn't fathom. The other worry was equally intangible, but sostrong in its suggestion of brooding menace that it kept him pacingthe verandah of the bungalow for long hours. It was the unnaturalsilence that had come to the jungle. Not a drum throbbed at night,and not a native came in his canoe to barter his fish on the bamboofloat which jutted out into the broad river. The post was isolated,the natives avoiding it as if it were the center of a plague.
On the morning of the third day he stood on the verandah lookingupstream. The river was falling, and from the exposed ooze, bakingin the sun, came the effluvia of decay and corruption. Beyond thefirst bend of the river there was no vista, only the unlimitedexpanse of the jungle, looking more gray than green, without formor perspective, silent, foreboding. The bamboo jetty was stillafloat, but he doubted that it would be tomorrow. He decided toleave for Sao Vincente at sundown.
He went into the bungalow to announce his decision to Pero, butbefore he could get the words out of his mouth a sudden commotionbroke out in the compound. Then Benji came running to the verandahsteps.
"Safari, Bwana!" he shouted at Pero. "Big safari!"
Both white men ran out onto the verandah and saw many paddlesflashing in the sun. Soon the black shapes of a dozen big dugoutscould be seen moving rapidly downstream, the beat of a drum timingthe rhythmical stroke of the paddles. Strung out in a long,slanting line they came lurching toward the float. As the firstcanoe slid alongside three big natives leaped out of it. Fourothers immediately began to pass out the canoe's cargo into thehands of their fellows on the float. In a moment a half-dozen primetusks lay at their feet. Another canoe shot alongside, and another,and another, and the same process was repeated. Pero's eyes bulgedas the pile of coffee-brown tusks grew larger and larger.
"Holy Saints!" he cried out at last. "Not one under fortypounds!" In his excitement he slapped Rick on the back. "Senhor,"he exclaimed, "all my life I have dreamed that something like thismight happen to me! Ho, Benji! Open the gates! Break out a keg ofrum for our guests! Don't stand there gaping, you black scum, jumpto it!" Again he slapped Rick's back. "That's the trick of it,senhor, all there is to it! Get 'em dead drunk, treat 'em likehidalgos and they'll trade a prime tusk for a coil of copperwire."
"They'll catch up with you one of these days," Rick told himwith a shake of his head.
A long file of blacks was moving up the steep trail to thegates, not all of them shouldered an ivory, but Rick countedthirty-six. He did a little mental arithmetic, and whistled at thetotal. There was close to a hundred thousand dollars walking upthat trail, or he didn't know a prime tusk when he saw one! Thenhis attention was drawn to the last canoe to reach the float. Fourbig blacks, one of them a gigantic fellow wearing the headdress ofa chief, were lifting something out of it—something sewn upin a hammock of skins. With a puzzled expression he watched thefour set the hammock down on the float carefully and run a stoutbamboo pole through the lashings looped around it. Then they liftedit shoulder high, and came jogging up the trail.
"What d'you suppose they've got there, Pero?" he wondered. Butthe Portuguese was out in the compound, driving his crew ofSwahilis to work. The doors of the big trade shed were swung open.Soon every man was rolling out kegs, breaking open bales of clothand stacking them on the shelves that lined three sides of the hugeshed. They moved fast under the lash of Pero's tongue and the stingof Benji's cane.
AS THE leading files of the safari passed into thecompound Pero came back to the verandah to receive its headman.There was none of the clamor and excitement that usually turned thepost into a pandemonium upon the arrival of a caravan. The bearersquietly deposited their ivories on the ground in front of thebungalow; then, as if at an unseen signal, as quietly they alltrooped across the compound to form a solid phalanx before the opendoors of the trade shed, and stood silently watching the busy,sweating Swahilis within. Observing this maneuver, Rick's eyeswidened in sudden alarm. He touched Pero's arm and saidquietly:
"We've got trouble. These fellows aren't porters, they'rewarriors!"
But Pero could not take his eyes from the ivory. "Nonsense!" hemuttered. "There's not a spear among them, and—Holy Saints,what is this?" He broke off pointing as Ekoti and his warriors settheir burden down at the foot of the verandah steps.
As if in answer to his question the Abama chief drew his knife,and threw a quick look around the compound. Then he ripped open theseam of the skin bundle, and Sheena burst from it, like a gorgeousbutterfly from its chrysalis.
Bow in hand, poised to draw and shoot, she faced the twodumbfounded white men. At a nod of her golden head, Ekoti bellowedout a command. The Abamas near the shed dashed forward, threw theirweight against the doors and swung them shut, trapping every manthe post could muster within.
Sheena's blonde beauty held Rick spellbound. Pero was the firstto recover from the shock of it all. He gasped:
"A raid! Your gun, senhor! Holy Saints—" He started to runfor the door of the bungalow, evidently with his own gun inmind.
"Hold!" said Sheena, in a clear ringing voice. At the sameinstant her bow twanged. The arrow plunged into the door post justahead of Pero, and he pulled up with his hooked nose touching thequivering shaft.
"Be still!" commanded the Jungle Queen. With her eyes fixed onthe young trader she notched another arrow. He appeared to beshaking the stupefaction that had taken possession. He passed hishand before his eyes, shook his head, and muttered something in atongue she did not know. He was almost as tall as Ekoti, and hiseyes were very bold when open. There was no fear in them, butsomething else was there—a gleam that pleased her and yetmade it hard to give him stare for stare. He seemed to sense herdiscomfiture; for a slow smile came to his lips, and he said inSwahili:
"Lady, I have seen many strange things, but never a thing asstrange as your coming—or a thing as beautiful as I see now.It cannot be that you have come to steal like a bushman."
"Why like a bushman?" she flashed at him. "Why not like a whitetrader? They are the great thieves. Your friend has killed one ofmy people, and he has taken five others. I know that you were nothere when this was done, and that is well for you, Brass Eyes!" Sheshifted her gaze to the Bearded One, and her blue eyes snapped athim. "Are you as ready to die as you are to kill?" she asked.
He made a queer animal noise in his throat, and his fear oozedout of him like a smelly sweat. His eyes darted frantically aroundthe compound, but could find no way of escape. He could not speak,so great was his fear; and his eyes held the dumb pleading look ofa sick dog when he turned them on his young companion. Brass Eyesspoke for him:
"Aku is not dead, Lady. This man has done evil, but he is sorryfor it. Is it not the custom of these—of your people to holda palavar when a wrong has been done to them? My friend is willingto talk, to pay whatever you ask."
Sheena regarded him steadily for a time. He was not afraid, thisone, and it was only fear that made men lie.
"Where is Aku?" she demanded.
He pointed to one of the huts. And, at a nod of her head, Ekotisped across the compound to it. Not a word was spoken until hereturned.
"He speaks the truth, Sheena," Ekoti reported in a low voice."Aku speaks well of the young Bwana. There is some trouble betweenhim and the other, but Aku does not know what it is."
"Good!" said Sheena. "Seize the Bearded One, and then search allthe huts for guns."
The Bearded One shrank back as Ekoti mounted the verandah steps,and the young one looked as if he would show fight. She laughedsoftly, and then said: "Be still, Brass Eyes. We are too many foryou, and it is no longer in my mind to kill your friend. We willtalk now, you and I."
Pero yelped as Ekoti took hold of him. He struggled trying topull away from the Abama chief's iron grasp.
"Senhor!" he appealed to Rick. "Help me—Holy Saints, youcannot let this she-devil—"
"Better go quietly, Pero," Rick told him. "You've been askingfor something like this for—"
"Speak Swahili!" Sheena told him sharply.
Then Ekoti lost patience with the twisting and screamingPortuguese. He hit him once, then heaved Pero's limp body over hisshoulder like a dead buck. He stepped aside as Sheena came up thesteps and went into the bungalow.
The young one followed her in. She was conscious of his eyes.They never left her as she glided across the room and sat in one ofthe cane chairs. He came to a stand, looking down at her, his gazedisconcertingly warm.
"Lady," he said with his slow smile, "when I saw you first Ithought that I was dreaming. Even now I am not sure that I amawake."
"Are women with white skins so strange to you?" She held hisgaze as the snake holds the bird's that it will soon devour. Andsuddenly she knew that she had power over this man, and yet therewas a recklessness, a wildness in him that she could not help butsee. Here was a spirit as strong and free as her own. She had thepower to stir him, even to control him with her smiles, but hewould not tremble at her frown as Ekoti did. To make this one herslave she would have to share the burden of his chains.
"Who are you?" he asked in his wonderment. "Where do you comefrom?"
"I am Sheena. That is enough for you, Brass Eyes."
"BRASS EYES is not my name," he told her, frowning. "I amRichard Thorne, hunter, trader, anything so long as it keeps me onthe move. Call me Rick, it will make it easier for me to believe myeyes."
"Rick—Rick," she repeated the name and smiled, then: "Itis a little name to give such a big man." Then her face sobered,and she asked: "Tell me why I should not take all the trade goodshere and give them to my people? The Bearded One has wronged andcheated them. Would it not be just?"
"No!" he answered promptly. "It would not because the goods donot belong to the Bearded One. Lazaro Pero is his name. The goodsbelong to the Company I work for, and taking them will do Pero noharm. Listen, Lady—"
"Sheena."
"Well then, Sheena. Now I will tell you about Pero—"
She listened to all he had to say, and liked the deep, resonanttones of his voice. When he stopped talking she was silent, turningit all over in her mind. Suddenly she asked:
"This man you hunt for, he will think well of you if you sendall the ivory my people brought in down the river to thecoast?"
He gave her a startled look, then his slow smile came. "Truly,he would think well of me," he said. "He would think me a princeamong traders."
"Good! Then I will tell Ekoti to make fair trade with you. I dothis because of what you will do for Aku."
"I would do it for any man," he said. "We leave at sundown, as Ihave said." Then his eyes became troubled, and he asked: "Whatabout Pero?"
"Have no fear for him. As you say, it is best to give him up tohis own people for punishment. He knows nothing, and Ekoti willmake fair trade with him while you are downriver. Also, Ekoti willwatch this place until you come back. Do as you will with Perothen. Now, I go." She rose in a swift, lithe movement and moved tothe door. He sprang to intercept her.
"Where are you going?" he asked, and caught hold of her arm."You can't walk in and out of my life like this!"
At the touch of his hand she felt her heart jump, then shestiffened and thrust him back. "Are you weary of life?" she bashedat him. "No man may touch me. If my people saw your hand on metheir spears would drink your blood!"
The unexpected strength behind the thrust of her arm had thrownhim back several paces, and the look that came to his face wasalmost funny in its expression of complete astonishment.
"What are—who—what the devil—" He gulped, andstared at her, speechless. She laughed softly, then turned and lefthim, still staring.
At sundown, from behind a screen of bush, she watched Rick andhis men carry Aku down to the river on a mat of woven grass.
When the canoe was an amorphous blur on the yellow water, in amood compounded of nameless yearnings and a strange feeling ofemptiness, she took the trail back to her forest sanctuary.
RICK made good time downriver, arriving at Sao Vincente a littlebefore sundown two days later. The town was typical of thePortuguese frontier—a cluster of flat-roofed,pink-and-whitewashed adobe houses, clinging to the river bank withthe indefatigable jungle pushing at them from behind. The missionof Carmelite friars was a stone building with castellated walls,and cool arched corridors shaded by palms.
While Aku was installed in the hospital, Rick chatted with aplump, worldly-looking brother of the order.
"Christian charity is rare in these parts," said the monk. "Youhave done an act of mercy for which God will reward you, myson."
"Well," smiled Rick, "there are a lot of black marks against meup there, Father. I'll be lucky if I get a cancellation on this.And, by the way, have you ever heard any talk of a whitewoman—a sort of goddess—up on the Kuango?"
"Oh, yes! The natives are full of such tales. But it is wise tobelieve in such marvels only when we see them, my son."
"And it is not always wise to talk of the marvels we see, eh,Father?"
"Not if we wish to be thought truthful, my son."
"That's how I figure it," murmured Rick. Then, "Well, I mustleave tonight. It is my wish to pay for Aku's care now."
The monk chuckled. "Ah, you are a jewel. Nothing is asked,nothing is expected, but a gift is always thrice blessed," he addedas Rick pressed a small bag of coins into his hand. "God go withyou, my son!"
The Kuango was falling rapidly now. A few miles above the townRick, Benji and his four Swahilis were forced to abandon theirheavy canoe. They continued the trek on foot, through the scentedcedar forest and across the burnt veldt.
Herds of zebra thundered southward, the scent of greenerpastures strong in their nostrils. The natives were leaving theirvillages, trekking for Sao Vincente in anticipation of famine.
Short rations forced Rick to shoot for the pot, and the heatforced him to short, night marches. A trek of no more than threemarches under normal conditions dragged out to six, and it was nearnoon on that day when he marched into the Kuango factory.
The post was deserted. The compound empty.
After the first shock of it was over, Rick soothed the fears ofhis jabbering Swahilis.
"There has been no fighting, Benji. Bwana Pero must have marcheddownriver with the ivory."
"Doubtless he has marched with the ivory!" The headman spat onthe ground. "But not down to Sao Vincente," he added with avehemence that caused Rick to give him a sharp look. But theSwahilis were crowding around them with bulging eyes, and he onlysaid:
"Come to the bungalow, Benji. We will talk of this."
Papers littered the floor of the main room, and the storeroomhad been rifled. Pero had taken all his small safari could carry,plus the ivory. But there were several cases of canned food left.Also a dozen muskets stood in the rack, and there was powder andshot. Looking around, Rick wondered vaguely why Pero hadn't setfire to the post. He supposed that it was because Pero had wantedto get away quietly without attracting the attention of the nativevillages. But what had happened to the Abamas and Sheena who hadsaid they would watch the post?
Then a crushing sense of defeat twisted his mouth awry with agrimace of self-deprecation, and drove everything else from hismind. Freire had sent him up to watch Pero, and Pero had walked outof Kuango with a hundred thousand dollars worth ofivory—taken it right from under his nose! He could hear theold timers chuckling over it—"Did you hear about the fast onethat dango, Pero, pulled on young Thorne up at Kuango—" No,not that!
No man could make a monkey out of Rick Thorne and get cleanaway. Anger so intense that it whitened his lips and made his handsshake, swept over him. By thunder, he'd get that ivory back. He'dget it back if he had to turn the Congo jungle upside down andshake it out! He swung around to face Benji.
"You know where Bwana Pero has taken the ivory?"
Benji's insolent eyes became fixed on a square bottle of ginwhich stood on a table under the window. Rick poured out a brimmerand the headman swallowed it in a gulp.
"Well?" Rick prompted him.
"Bwana," Benji began, "before you came I counted the teeth.Sometimes the number that came in and the number that wentdownriver was not the same. But when I told Bwana Pero about it heonly cursed me for a fool and said I could not count right. Once heflogged me so I spoke of it no more. But I am not stupid, and Ihave eyes."
"Are they sharp enough to find the road to Kilma, Benji?"
"I know the road, Bwana. But we are only six. What can we doagainst Sleman bin Ali?"
"I'll think of that when I get there. All I want you to do isshow me the road." He unslung his rifle and handed it to Benji. "Isthis a good gun?" he asked.
"Oh yes, Bwana!" said Benji, handling the rifle lovingly.
"It is yours, if you show me the road to Kilma. Also, I willgive a musket to each of your men, and powder and shot. Will theygo?"
"Oh yes! They will march with me. What else can they do?"
"At sundown then, Benji."
"At sundown, Bwana!"
UP IN THE hills, far beyond the village, Sheenapaused to listen to an Abama drummer. She frowned as the drum spokeher nadan, and then split into accurate lengths of tumult the quietof the jungle. In less time than it would have taken to speak thewords she knew what had happened to Rick Thorne, knew that he wasalready two marches beyond the Kuango. Her first reaction wasanger, and her wrath was turned against Ekoti who had dared todisobey her, who had failed to watch the post until Rick's return,as she had told him to do. Her next thought was of Rick. Truly, hewas a reckless young fool, yet splendid in his folly marchingagainst Sleman bin Ali and all his guns with only six men!
And Ekoti's fault was hers. She had promised Rick that she wouldwatch the post and his enemy. A fool he surely was, but she couldnot let him march to his death because of Ekoti's disobedience. Itwas unthinkable. She must help Rick. But how? She could notovertake him. Another day's march would take him deep into Slemanbin Ali's country. And the half-Arab understood drum-talk, and hewould send out men to capture Rick. Well then, Sleman bin Ali hadbeen a thorn in the Abamas side for a long time. Perhaps now wasthe time to deal with him. Surely there was a way.
She sat down on a rock to think about it and Chim was suddenlyquiet. He came to sit beside her, his chin cupped in his hands,imitating his mistress' pose—a grotesque caricature of blondebeauty wrapped in thought.
It was a long time before Sheena's eyes brightened and a faintsmile of satisfaction came to her lips. There was a way, there wasalways a way if she thought about it long enough. But first shemust punish Ekoti. With feline grace she rose and spoke toChim:
"Fill your belly, little one. We must travel far and fast."
When the heat waves slid down to evening and the sunlight lay inbroken fragments on the village trails, Sheena's call summonedEkoti from his hut. Alone in the semi-dark of the palavar house,Sheena confronted him.
"You did not obey me!" she accused him at once.
But Ekoti did not look down at the ground, nor did he squirmunder the cold, angry glare of her blue eyes. His face maintainedan expression of impassive innocence. And presently he said:
"Do not be angry with me, Sheena. I obeyed. I watched thetrader's kraal until I could stay no longer. Four days I watched,but the young Bwana did not come, and—"
"Why did you leave? Why?" the furious girl demanded.
"Because the game left the country, Sheena. Our cooking potswere empty. We are hunters. We must follow the game. Soon I mustlead my people south because of this. We cannot stay in this place.Turn your anger against the Arogi, against the witches who holdback the rain. Am I to be blamed for what they do?"
There was a long pause, and then a deep sigh of relief came fromEkoti's lips as he saw the angry light in the Jungle Queen's eyesslowly fade.
"You are not to be blamed," she said. And Ekoti's strong, filedteeth flashed in a broad grin. "Now I will speak of another thing,"she went on. "Tomorrow we march south against the Arab's town."
The grin faded from Ekoti's face and his expression settled intoone of utter bewilderment. Presently he gave tongue to it: "It is athing unheard of!"
"Are you afraid, Ekoti?"
"No!" roared the exasperated chief. "I do not fear the Arab, andwell you know it! But when I would have gone against him with gunsyou called it foolish. And now you would go against him withspears. And at such a time."
"Have I said that I will go against him with spears only?"
"Truly, you did not say so. But without guns or spears the thingcannot be done."
"Do not say of the ajap tree in fruit," she told him quietly,"that it bears nothing but leaves. Did you not think the same thingwhen I said I would drive the Bearded One? Do as I say now and allwill be well."
Ekoti was silent for a long time, his face set in grave lines;then: "Always the Abamas have obeyed you Sheena. It is well for usto obey. We would be nothing without you, our enemies would haveeaten us up long ago. We will obey you now. But for my people I askwhy we must do this thing?"
"Because Sleman bin Ali is our enemy, and because I fear that hewill do harm to the young Bwana who is our friend."
"Aie, aie!" rumbled Ekoti. "It is as I thought. I think back tothe village where we were born, Sheena. My heart sings at thememory of the days when we played together, and learned to shootwith the bow. Aie, they were good days! I speak of them now becausethere is a thing that troubles my mind, and when I say what is inmy mind I know that it will make you angry."
"Truly, they were good days, Ekoti. I have not forgotten them.Speak and do not fear my anger."
A dubious smile changed the young chief's eyes. Then, as when aman is about to plunge into a cold, mountain stream, he took a deepbreath and said, "I speak of a thing I saw in the young Bwana'seyes when he looked at you, Sheena. If we find him alive it will bea good thing for him to leave this country."
"So!" Her blue eyes kindled.
"Even so, because if he tries to take you away the Abamas willkill him. They would do so because they love you, also because ofthe taboo of N'bid Ela. It is strong magic. Even stronger than you,Sheena. You could not save the young Bwana if my people thoughtthat you would go away with him." And, having spoken his mind likea man, Ekoti braced himself, as if he expected the roof of thepalavar house to fall on his head.
But the storm did not break. No one knew better than Sheena thefatal power of imagination working through superstitious fear. Itwas taboo that gave her the power to command. And something moreshe had. The love of these simple jungle folk who, during herhelpless infancy, had cherished her as one of their own. Never hadshe felt the sting of a blow, never an unkind rebuke. Her hand felllightly on Ekoti's shoulder.
"You have spoken well, Ekoti," she said softly. "Now I tell you:I will leave the Abamas and this forest when the leaves of themajuti trees fall."
The saying caught Ekoti's fancy. He left the palavar housechuckling over it deeply, for no man ever had seen the leaves of amajuti tree fall. It was evergreen.
RICK and his little band toiled upward onto the parklands of theM'bama plateau, following the dry bed of a river that stank like asewer in the sun. It was undulating country with wild andfantastically broken scenery—deep kloofs and granite kopjiesalternating with wooded hills, some densely covered with mimosabush.
That night Rick's tent was pitched in a little clearingoverlooking the south-curving valley of the Simla. The dry spellhad reduced even this considerable tributary of the Kuango to amiserable thread of water, meandering through cracks in thesun-baked clay of its bed. Soon cooking fires flared against theblack velvet of the night. The silence of the surrounding junglewas compounded of sounds seldom separately recognizable, but forthe droning of the cicadas, which came rasping through the aislesof the trees, and gave a knife edge to the heat.
When the late meal was over Benji left his companions and cameto squat at Rick's fire. Rick watched him fill his wide nostrilswith snuff, his eyes narrowed with thought. From little thingsBenji had let drop, Rick had drawn the conclusion his headman knewmore of Pero's activities than he chose to tell. Moreover, hesuspected that Benji was working toward some dark end of his own,or he surely would have quit after the first day of this hard, drytrek.
"Kilma is one day's march from here, Bwana," Benji announcedsuddenly. "Its chief is a half-Arab called Sleman bin Ali."
"That I know," said Rick.
"In the old days," Benji went on as if he had not heard Rick,"Sleman bin Ali came into this country with a big caravan. AZanzibari merchant sent him, but Sleman did not come back withivory, or with the merchant's goods. No, he drove the M'bamas wholived here. He killed many and made slaves of others. Then he madethem build Kilma, and he made himself chief of this country. He hasmany men and many guns. I tell you this, Bwana, because, now thatwe are close to his town I wonder what you are going to do."
"You might well wonder," said Rick with a wry smile.
Benji chuckled. "So you have thought of nothing. I wonder, also,what you would do with the ivory if you got it back, Bwana."
"The Company would pay well, Benji."
The headman spat into the fire. "The Company would pat you onthe shoulder and say, 'Good boy! Good boy!' I know the Company!Truly, they would not give you as much as we could sell it foracross the border at Bampo."
Rick smiled. So that was it! Pero had an apt pupil in Benji. AndBenji needed him for something or he would have kept his plans tohimself. He said: "First we must get the ivory. How are we to dothat?"
Benji grinned insolently. "For half of it I will tell youthat."
"You're in bad company, young feller!" Rick told himself. "Onegun against five. Better take it slow and easy, shake this jasperdown for all he's got." Aloud he said:
"It is agreed, Benji. For half of it."
"Good. You do well to agree, Bwana, as you will see." He leanedforward. "Listen now. When the rain comes and Pero can get portershe will make a caravan and march for Bampo. It is five marches fromKilma, and we—"
"We cannot ambush a caravan with six guns," Rick interposed withquick comprehension.
"True, Bwana. But there is a M'bama village nearby. They do notlove Sleman bin Ali. They will make a trap for the caravan if oneof the Company's Bwanas tells them to do so. Oh yes, it will beeasy—" He broke off suddenly, straightened up, and stoodlooking from right to left.
"What is it?" asked Rick.
BENJI motioned him to silence. There was a faint rustling soundwhich might have been taken by a careless ear for the wind passingthrough the grass. But to Benji's quick ear it was something else.He was reaching for his rifle when flame spurted out of thesurrounding darkness.
Benji pitched forward across the fire without a cry. Rick's Coltroared a split second after the report of the musket. He had firedat the flash of the gun, and a yelp and the sound of a bodycrashing through the bush told him that he had not missed. He flunghimself on the ground and rolled out of the firelight. He could seenothing, but there was the rustle of movement all around him.Benji's men stood bathed in the light of their fire, motionless,fearing to move lest a volley be poured into them by the invisibleraiders.
Lazaro Pero's voice came harshly out of the blackness. "You aresurrounded! Throw down your gun, senhor!"
Rick threw down his gun. Dark shapes crept out of the bush,hemming him in. Pero pushed through them into the pool offirelight. He rolled Benji's body over with his foot, and said:
"I knew this fool would follow me but I did not think you wouldbe so stupid, senhor. Holy Saints, what a man you would be if youwere as quick with your brain as you are with your gun. Perhaps youcame to shoot it out with me, eh, Senhor Cowboy?"
"All right," said Rick from between clenched teeth. "You canshoot when you damn well please, and—"
"Kill you?" Pero shook his head. "I see no reason to kill you.No, I will take you to Kilma. My good friend Sleman bin Ali willkeep you there until I am clear of this cursed country. Then hewill send you down to the coast, and you can tell that fat pig,Friere, what happened to his ivory. A good joke on him, eh? Ideeply regret that I shall not be there to see his face when you dotell him. Holy Saints!" He slapped his thigh, and laughed until thetears ran down his cheeks.
Rick wondered if it was worth risking a blast from the guns thatbristled around him just to hit Pero once.
Pero wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "And they sentyou to watch me," he gasped. "How such people get rich, I do notunderstand. Ah, but I see that all this is very painful for you,senhor. Forgive me for making a fool of you also. But enough." Hegave a sharp order.
His Swahilis closed around Rick. His hands were bound, a ropewas looped around his neck. The order to march was given and,cursing fluently, he stumbled through the darkness on the heels ofthe man who tugged at the rope about his neck.
IT WAS a long weary trek up into the M'bamacountry. Day after day the Abamas padded their way along the old,tribal trails. Lean, hungry warriors ranged on the flanks of thelong, straggling line of old men, women and children, and it was alucky man who brought in meat for his wife to roast. The game wasfar south. The villages along their route were deserted, a clusterof huts and gardens with the dry stalks of the guinea-corncrackling in the hot wind, the true forest, a deserted clearing, astretch of true forest again. In the clearings the sunlight was ariver of fire between the walls of the forest. The jungle was notstrong but it was close, the way narrow, and broken light andbroken color beat up into their eyes, so that the women andchildren and the old ones were weary after a short time of suchgoing. The pace was slow.
There was corn and cassava to be gleaned from the neglectedgardens, but such sop did not sit well in Abama stomachs. They werehunters and warriors, and jilo, the meat hunger, gnawed hard attheir bellies.
Far ahead of the main body Sheena, Ekoti and Chim stood on akopji, overlooking the valley of the Silma.
"It is bad," said Ekoti. "Soon there will be no water. We shouldfollow the game to the lake, I think."
"There is water and meat in Kilma," Sheena told him.
"There are walls and guns at Kilma also," growled Ekoti. "Itcannot be that you think the Arab will open his gates to theAbama."
"He will open them," said the Jungle Queen confidently. Suddenlyshe tensed, peering ahead into the heat haze which danced andshimmered before her, rendering visibility close to zero. A groupof vultures wheeled in perfect grace over the painted woods. Acopper armband flashed in the sun as she pointed and said:
"See yonder!"
"Aie, meat!" exclaimed Ekoti, uttering the thought uppermost inhis mind.
But another thought had flashed into Sheena's mind at firstsight of the scavenger birds. With an involuntary cry of mingledfear and anger, she sped down the hillside, her golden hairstreaming in the wind behind her. Chim went bounding after her, theAbama chief in his wake. But neither could match the flashing speedof the Jungle Queen. Both were soon left far behind.
At any other time Sheena would have approached the spot withutmost care, knowing well that some beast must have driven thevultures from their obscene feast. But in her fear for Rick, in heranxiety to be rid of it, or to know the worst, she forgot cautionand burst suddenly into the clearing. She got a fleeting glimpse ofthe leopard crouched over the remains of Benji's body, and thenspotted, snarling fury came hurtling at her. But in Sheena theincredible swiftness of the feline beast was combined with theintelligence of man, with a brain as swift and clear as a mountainstream. For Sheena knew no fear of man or beast.
Unlike the hunted creatures of the jungle whose survival dependson the split-second response to the impulse of flight, she did notswerve in her stride but launched herself in a dive under theleopard's white belly. The beast struck downward with one paw as itflashed over her. Its razor-edged claws combed her hair, and herquiver of arrows was torn from her right shoulder. The leopard'sspring carried it half way across the clearing and, as its forepawstouched the earth, Sheena sprang to her feet and whirled to faceit.
The baffled beast crouched, tail lashing the ground, yellow eyesfixed on the blonde goddess in an unwinking glare. Sheena's leopardskin had been ripped from her shoulder. The beast's claws hadgrazed her flesh, and a thin trickle of blood ran down her exposedright breast. Her bow was in her hand, but her quiver lay on theground, out of reach. She dared not move, or take her eyes from thehalf-starved animal which, flat on its belly, was now edging towardher, inch by inch. Her hand slid down to her knife, the leopard'slean flanks quivered, and a snarl bared its fangs as it prepared tospring. And just then Chim came bouncing into the clearing. He camein behind the leopard, saw it, and let out an almost human scream,and then leaped for the nearest tree.
Startled by the cry the leopard whirled around to confront thenew foe. In that instant, in one fluid motion the Jungle Queenpounced on her quiver. The beast sensed, rather than saw, themovement. As quick as a flash it turned, a tawny blur in a swirl ofdust and dry leaves, and sprang. Sheena's bow twanged just as itleft the ground. She leaped aside as the big cat twisted in theair, then fell on its back, rolling over and over, snarling andbiting at the arrow driven into its chest. Then Ekoti came pantinginto the clearing and a thrust from his leaf-bladed spear put aswift end to the beast's struggle.
When he looked around Sheena was moving up wind from the grislyremains of Benji's body, the beauty of her face marred by a grimaceof disgust.
"Enough is left," she said, "to tell that his skin wasblack."
"Many men camped here," Ekoti observed, looking over the ground."The spoor is not cold, see!" He squatted, pointing to boot-printson a patch of sandy soil. "Two white men and many blackfellows."
They followed the spoor until Sheena was satisfied that it wouldlead them to Kilma; then she said:
"I go on. You go back to your people. Tell your warriors thatSheena says that there is meat for them at Kilma."
Ekoti rubbed his wooly head. He was a warrior, and he was noman's fool, but for the life of him he could not see how hisspearmen could break into Kilma, and his puzzlement was profound.But what Sheena said could not be doubted. Though he had playedwith her as a child, and though, outwardly, she appeared to be asother women, he had never doubted that she was something more thanmortal, and possessed of powers quite beyond his comprehension.There was conviction and awe in his face when he said:
"I think that I will see a great magic at Kilma."
FAMINE and death surrounded Kilma. The rinderpest had come inthe wake of the prolonged drouth, and on the plains vultures gorgedthemselves on the carcasses of dead cattle, spreading their wingsas they reached their ugly heads into the fetid mass, their wingtips and breast feathers greasy with fat. But within the mud-walledtown itself there was plenty. Its stilted, thatched-roofed siloswere full of grain, and a subterranean stream bubbled into itswells, and fed the fountain in the sequestered gardens of Slemanbin Ali's house.
Like most native African towns, all of which seemed to have theZulu kraal, with its boma of thorn-bush as impenetrable as abarbed-wire entanglement, for their prototype. Kilma had two gates,one facing the other at opposite ends of a broad, central road. Thewalls encompassed an area of not more than five acres, and intothis space was crowded, haphazardly an unbelievable number of adobehouses with a maze of narrow lanes twisting among them. Sleman binAli's house fronted on the main road, and its high-walled garden,with its pond and fountain, green grass and heavy-scented hibiscusand jasmine, was like an oasis in a desert of smells that made Rickshudder whenever he set foot outside the arched gate which gaveonto the dusty road.
He was allowed the freedom of the town. Famine was his gaoler,and it was Lazaro Pero's gaoler also; for until the rain came thelong trek across the border to Bampo was an impossible undertaking.Sleman bin Ali had given Rick a room in his own house, and often hetook his meals with the venerable half-Arab who looked more like asaint than the old rogue he undoubtedly was. After his fashion, Aliwas a devout man, strict in his observance of the letter, if notspirit, of the precepts set forth in the Koran; and his long whitebeard, the spotless, white robe and the austerity he affected wereso strongly suggestive of the Biblical patriarch that Rick doubtedthat it was wholly unconscious. He was a courteous and generoushost, and that made it easy to forget his crimes andcruelities.
As the days wore on and still the rain did not come, Pero fumedand fretted. Rick avoided him; for whenever they met the Portuguesenever failed to jibe at him, to remind him that soon he must goback to the coast and tell Freire how Lazaro Pero had so cleverlytricked him out of a small fortune in ivory.
The whereabouts of the ivory had puzzled Rick from the first dayof his arrival in Kilma. There was no building in the town largeenough to hold it. He knew that it had long been the custom ofnative chiefs to bury their hoards to protect them from therapacity of well armed raiders; and, finally, he came to theconclusion that the ivory must be cached somewhere out in the hillssurrounding the town.
Toward sundown on the fifth day of his stay at Kilma a tribe ofnatives swarmed down from the hills onto the plain. From the flatroof of Sleman bin Ali's house Rick watched them pour out of anarrow gap in the hills and debouch onto the veldt to cut a blackswath through the tall, feathery spear-grass. Pero stood besideSleman bin Ali, who had an old, brass telescope clamped to one eye.Suddenly the Arab exclaimed:
"Merciful Allah! It is that daughter of Shaitan, Sheena."
"Sheena! Surely you are mistaken, my friend!" said Pero. "Whatwould she want of us? Not the ivory. The trade was fair."
Sleman bin Ali's eyes slanted in Rick's direction as he handedthe telescope to Pero. "Wallai," he said, "you are a great fool ifyou cannot guess what she has come for!"
"Holy Saints, who would have thought of that!" muttered Pero inhis beard; then: "They have no guns, a volley will drive themoff."
"No!" said the Arab sharply. "If they do not attack, we do noshooting. It may be that she wants only our young friend here. ByAllah, if that be all, she can have him! I want no trouble withthat she-devil. See, they make camp." He turned, shouting for oneof his slaves. A M'bama boy answered his call, and Sleman said: "Gotell Ahmed to double all guards. Let him report to me when it isdone." To Pero he said: "Those goat-skin water bags you see on thepoles will soon be empty. We will know what she wants before longand, Allah willing, she will be gone in the morning."
OUT in the Abama camp Sheena called Ekoti to her fire.
"There is much to do before the sun sets," she told him, andthen swept out her arm in a gesture that took in the surroundinghills. "Somewhere out there the Arab has hidden his ivory. Let allthe people, even the women, if need be, go out into the hills tolook for it."
"What good is ivory?" growled Ekoti. "We cannot eat it." Thenhis face brightened and his deep laugh rumbled up from the pit ofhis stomach. "Ho, ho!" he said. "I think I see what is in your mindnow, Sheena. You will make the Arab trade meat for his own ivory!Ho, that is good!"
"Perchance he will trade his town for it, Ekoti."
The chief's laughter ended in a grunt of incredulity. "He is notso big a fool, Sheena."
"We will see," the Jungle Queen told him with a smile. "When youfind the ivory do not bring it into camp. Leave it where you findit. Now there is another thing. I go into the town tonight. When itis dark you will take your warriors close to the gate yonder. Letthem make much noise so that the Arab will think that you are aboutto attack him."
Ekoti looked across the plain to the high walls of the town andthe thatched-roofed watchtowers standing on them. He shook hishead. All this talk of trading towns for ivory was verybewildering, and he refused to perplex himself with it any further.Silent, and wooden-faced, he went to organize the search for theivory.
Soon the Abamas were leaving the camp in small groups to scourthe hills. Sheena remained in the camp, watching the town.Presently, two figures came to stand on the roof of Sleman binAli's house, and the sun flashed on the brass of the tube one heldto his eyes. She watched them, a faint smile on her lips. The Arab,she knew, would guess what her people were looking for; and theBearded One would fume and sweat, because he was a man who couldnot control his passions. He would want to rush out and attack theAbamas. But not Sleman bin Ali. He was cautious, and he would waituntil he knew the result of the search.
A woman brought her a pot of bangu, a mess of native corn andgreens. She accepted it gratefully, ate, and then slept until thenoise of the Abama hunters returning to camp aroused her. The sunwas down, and the shadow of the western hills was reaching acrossthe veldt, like a black, open hand with six long fingers. The twofigures had returned to the roof of the house to watch the incomingsearch parties. Ekoti's face was sour when he came to report:
"The Arab is a fox, and he does not hide everything in one hole.We have found some teeth. We left them where we found them, as youtold us to do."
"How many, Ekoti?"
"Only two hands, Sheena. But they are big teeth," he addeddefensively.
"It is enough. You have done well. Now, rest your warriors untilthe middle of the night."
There was a bright moon that night, and it made a ghost town ofKilma. Starving jackals, driven from the carrion stinking on theplain, howled dismally on the fringe of the bush, and occasionallya dog within the town yelped a half-hearted answer to the challengeof the veldt. When the moon was overhead, flooding the plain withthe abundance of its light, Ekoti and his warriors left thecamp.
AMID a great ostentation of guns and horns theyadvanced across the open space, in plain view of the guards in thewatchtowers. A gun flashed, and another, and then the sleeping townawoke to the deep, booming alarm of a big drum. Soon many guns weresnapping on the walls. The Abamas continued their noisy advanceupon the west gate until bullets began to whistle all around them;then, at a shout from Ekoti, they sank into the sea of grass, andfanned out. And where there had been shouting and tumult and theglint of moonlight on spears a moment before, there was now nothingto be seen, and no sound but the rustle of movement through thetall grass.
Meanwhile, Sheena and Chim crouched in an area of shadow on theopposite side of the town. The shadow was cast by one of thewatchtowers. Its wooden platform, supported by angle-beams sunkinto the adobe, overhung the wall. A bright rectangle of moonlightshowed between the peaked roof and the breast-high fence of bamboowhich enclosed the square space within. The silhouette of theguard's head and shoulders showed black against the sky. The man'sattention was drawn to the west gate by a sudden burst of musketry,his back turned to Sheena. Swiftly she darted forward to withintwenty paces of the wall. There she stood for an instant, poisedwith drawn bow-string touching her ear. At the twang of the stringwinged peril sped true to her aim. The arrow pierced the guard'sgun-arm, and the shock sent him slumping against the bamboo rail,knocking him out.
Under the platform Sheena uncoiled a long length of woven-grassrope and tied it around Chim's waist.
"Up, little one!" she commanded, patting the wall with herhand.
There were cracks in the sun-baked adobe, but it was a hardclimb even for an ape, and Chim nearly fell twice before he graspedand swung from one of the angle beams under the platform. Holdingone end of the rope, Sheena quickly ran to the other side of thebeam, and patted the wall again, calling Chim down. Chim started tocome down the same way as he had gone up, but a sharp word frombelow stopped him. He swung back onto the beam and jumped up anddown, scolding Sheena. He was very angry. The night was full ofloud and terrifying noises. He was in no mood to play this sillygame and felt safer where he was. But when he saw his mistress turnas if to go he came down in a hurry and bounded after her. He was avery surprised and frightened ape when the rope, which he hadunwittingly looped over the beam, suddenly tightened and jerked himfrom his feet.
"Good, little one! Good!" Sheena petted and soothed him as sheuntied the rope. "Go now!" she hissed. And just then a volley ofgunfire crashed on the walls and Chim went like a black streakthrough the grass.
A moment later the Jungle Queen swung her long, shapely legsover the rail of the platform. A ladder, a tree trunk with slatsbound across it, made easy her descent into the town.
IT WAS in the dead of that night that Rick awoke with the reportof a musket singing in his ears. By the time he had dressed andmade his way through the garden and out onto the central road,calamity was on the loose in Kilma. As he came out of the archedgate a group of half-naked Swahilis raced by, yelling like fiends.Others came rushing, muskets in hand, from the huts that flankedthe road, and the screams of their women rose to a shrill crescendoas a ragged volley crashed out on the wall near the west gate.
With his back flat against the wall of Sleman bin Ali's garden,with every man in the town capable of bearing arms running for thewest gate, Rick's mind jumped to the obvious conclusion. The Abamaswere attacking it in force. His first thought was of escape and,hugging the shadow of the wall, he started to move against thetide, heading for the east gate of the town. At the back of hismind there was the dim idea that if he could get out of the townthe Abamas might help him to carry out the plan Benji hadsuggested. But escape was the dominant idea at themoment—escape from Pero's mockery and the nagging sense ofdefeat that kept flicking at his high spirit like the lash of avorslaag.
Darkness closed all the lanes which opened onto the main road.The firing on the walls had slackened, and only the occasionalflash of a gun tore a path under the starlit sky. The defenders hadevidently gotten to their posts in time to beat back the firstonslaught. And now silence, breathless, expectant settled on thetown. He was crossing the black opening of one of the lanes when heheard a hiss, and then his name spoken softly.
"Sheena!" He turned quickly and saw her shadowy outline againstthe wall of a hut.
Sheena beckoned to him, and he stepped into the shadows, andstood very close to her. His eyes were very bright and he asked ina husky voice:
"You came to help me?"
"I have come to settle an old quarrel with Sleman bin Ali," shetold him coldly. "He has killed many of my people and made slavesof others. It may be that we can help each other."
"I see," he said. But the disappointed look that brought aslight frown to his face told her that he saw nothing andunderstood less. She smiled inwardly and said:
"The attack is a trick to keep the fools looking the other waywhile we leave this place. If you want to go we must go quickly.You will have to run fast. Even so, a bullet may find you."
"I'll take that chance," he said. Then he pointed to the eastgate. "There is a small door in the big gate. It is the easiest wayout if I can creep up on the guard."
She smiled in the darkness. He was more used to giving ordersthan to take them. She said: "We go by the same way as I came.Come!" And she turned and ran swiftly down the lane.
Straight to the watchtower she led him and went up the ladder ina quick dash that made Rick stare for a moment. As he heavedhimself up onto the platform the Swahilis on the far wall wereshouting taunts at the Abamas, calling them women because theywould not show themselves. Out on the plain the Abama camp fireswinked.
Rick went to the rail of the platform and looked down. Sheenasaw his puzzlement and there was faint mockery in her softlaugh.
"Sometimes I follow where an ape leads," she told him. He gaveher an odd, startled look. Then he saw the stunned guard with thearrow through his arm. Sheena swung from the platform at arm'slength, caught the dangling rope with her feet, and quickly slid tothe ground. Rick was very nimble, and soon dropped lightly to theground beside her.
"Run for the fires!" she told him.
"You first," said he.
SHE looked at him closely. Was he afraid? No, there was not ashadow of fear to dim the brightness of his eyes, now shining withexcitement. And suddenly she knew what was in his mind. He wantedto shield her with his body, to protect Sheena, Queen of theJungle! Was there no end to his folly? Did he think she was likeone of the pale-faced coast women, a ninny to be petted andpampered by men? Truly he had much to learn. But now was not thetime to teach him. Without another word she sprang forward and wentflashing across the open space from which the grass had beencleared for more than a hundred yards.
Again Rick stood staring for a moment, then with a mutteredprayer, he started to run. There was a shot. A bullet plucked thedirt close to his flying feet. With a thrill of fear he realizedthat his white topee and shirt must show like a flare against theblack of the ground. Hot lead was sizzling about his ears as heplunged into the grass and, panting for breath, dropped to allfours. He crawled the rest of the way into the Abama camp.
Sheena was waiting for him beside one of the fires. Standingthere straight and tall, with the firelight highlighting thebronzed perfection of her body, she looked like a goddess indeed.Several native women were grouped about her, naked but for a fewtufts of grass. At Rick's approach they withdrew.
"Lady, you are swifter than the wind," he said.
She gave him an enigmatic smile, but did not speak. He tried tointerest himself in the contents of a pot bubbling on the fire. Buthis mind was not on food. Always his eyes came back to her. Shefound herself wishing that she had not told the other women toleave the fire. She moved back into the shadows. There was notelling what his youthful folly might prompt him to do next.
But soon Ekoti and his warriors came straggling back from thesham attack. Hungry looking warriors they still were, armed withleaf-bladed spears and painted shields. Some had never seen a whiteman before, and came to point and stare at Rick. Then a drum beganto throb, and the bystanders were drawn away to join in thedancing.
"I know you, Bwana," Ekoti greeted Rick in his deep basso.
"I know you, Chief," Rick returned. "It is in my heart to hopethat none of your warriors fell in the fight."
The chieftain chuckled. "There was no fight, Bwana. ThoseSwahili dogs made much noise with their guns, but not a bullettouched us." Then he looked at Sheena and added: "Perchance,tomorrow it will be different. Tell me, Sheena, do we play at wartomorrow, or do we drive them?"
"We drive them," she answered, and glanced up at the sky, nowgray with the false dawn. "Rest now, Ekoti. You, Rick, must comewith me."
They left the camp and moved swiftly through the grass. It waslight when they climbed a wooded hill and looked down on the westgate of the town. Vast banks of clouds, red-bellied with the firstrays of the sun, hid the peaks of the distant mountains, and rollednorthward on the wings of a freshening wind. It was the first realhope of rain, and the freshness of the breeze bathed them, wipingout memories of heat, hunger and fatigue. Sheena stood beside Rick,her breasts rising and falling as she drank deeply of the freshnessof the morning. She said:
"You must help me now, because I do not think that Ekoti wouldunderstand what is in my mind." She pointed to the gap in thehills, "Look well at the country before you."
They stood upon a trail that led down to the west gate. Rick'seyes followed the path through the town and across the veldt towhere it entered the gap in the hills. There it joined the oldcaravan road to Bampo, and appeared again like a red welt on theshoulder of a low hill to the northeast of the town, and then itdropped out of sight into a densely wooded kloof.
Again Sheena directed his attention to the narrow gap. "I willgive you twenty men," she said. "They will carry the ivory we foundacross that gap. You must make them march slowly, slowly, so thatthe first man will have time to run back through the bush and comeout onto the road again before the last man has crossed the gap.Then—"
A sharp exclamation from Rick interrupted her. And he saidsomething in his own tongue, but she saw the light of understandingcome into his eyes. She went on:
"Sleman bin Ali will think that we have found all his ivory. Hewill think that you are marching to Bampo with it, and he will sendout his men to attack you. Then Ekoti and his warriors, who will behidden near this spot, will rush down and break into the town."
Again Rick studied the landscape carefully, checking itsfeatures against his memory of the scene as he had seen it from theroof of Sleman bin Ali's house. His level was above that of theflat roof; yet, through the gap in the hills, he could see onlythat section of the Bampo road which arched over the low hill. Fromthe roof of Ali's house even less of it could be seen. It was aperfect setup for what Sheena had in mind. He said:
"It is like dragging a buck to catch a lion."
"Truly," she said, and then added with a faint smile: "Now yousee why I had to bring you out of the town." His awestruckexpression somehow reminded her of Ekoti, and did not please her atall. Then his slow smile came and went as he said:
"And a monk, a holy man, told me not to believe inmiracles."
"There is no miracle," she told him with a frown. "Men reach forwhat they want. In this country it is ivory they want most of all,so the Arab will reach out to grasp his ivory. Elsewhere it may bedifferent, I cannot tell." And with that she led the way back tocamp.
ON THE following morning Sheena watched the dawnbreak over the eastern hills. The Abamas had broken camp and, undercover of night, had hidden their women and children in a woodedvalley far from the town. Rick was on the Bampo road with histwenty porters, waiting for the sun to come out of the earth.Behind Sheena, in the bush which bordered the trail, crouched Ekotiand his warriors, looking down upon the sleeping town with hungryeyes.
As the sun came to stand on the hills like a huge copper disc onedge, Sheena's attention became fixed on the gap in the hills.Suddenly metal caught the rays of the sun; then figures, blackagainst the red sky, appeared on the road. Rick was leading his menwith the ivory over the arch of the road. A gap appeared in theslowly moving line of linked, black dots, and Sheena's pulsequickened with alarm. But soon other dots appeared behind them. Itlooked exactly as if a large caravan was moving off in thedirection of Bampo. The Abamas behind Sheena pointed and utteredsoft exclamations of wonderment. Truly, their mata-yenda waspossessed of powers beyond all other wizards.
"Behold!" they murmured. "She sent but two hands of us into thehills, and now they are as many as the stars! It is a greatmagic!"
Then the report of a musket shattered the silence of themorning. After a time two figures appeared on the roof of Slemanbin Ali's house. The white of Pero's topee and of Sleman's robesflared against the burnt brown of the hills. Their movements werequick, agitated, and in a moment they were gone. Sheena smiled. Thebuck was dragging, and the lion had the wind of it.
Then drums began to throb in many-tongued panic. As theirurgent, incessant clamor went echoing and re-echoing among thehills, she saw many white-robed Swahilis massing on the centralroad of the town. Then a great shout went up as the eastern gatewas thrown open, and they went streaming out across the veldt, withSleman bin Ali and Pero in the van. Straight as an arrow the columnheaded for the gap in the hills.
Ekoti struck the trunk of the majuti tree, which his men hadfelled and trimmed, with the butt of his spear, and looked aroundat his warriors, grim visaged and impatient to swoop down on thenow weakly defended town.
"Ho, my children! Do you smell the flesh pots of Kilma?" hisdeep voice boomed.
A low growl answered him and a dozen men jumped forward to liftthe log shoulder high. Sheena waited until Sleman's column enteredthe gap and vanished from sight. Then with the Abama war-cry on herlips she sprang forward. The Abamas echoed the cry, and wentcharging down the slope on the heels of the Jungle Queen.
Like a black wave they swept across the veldt, and the noise oftheir going through the tall, dry grass was like a strong wind inthe jungle. A few muskets flashed as they neared the gate. Bulletsslapped into their close-packed ranks. Several warriors fell butnothing could stop the meat-hungry Abamas. They swept on to massbefore the gate. More men fell as the log was driven against thesplit-log barrier. A log splintered, then another. The gate burstopen under the sheer weight of their numbers as, at a shout fromSheena, they hurled themselves against it.
The few Swahilis left behind made a stand on the road. A volleywas poured into the Abamas as they surged over the debris of thegate. They wavered, but Ekoti's bull-like roars rallied them; andthey charged, and swept over the Swahilis before they could reloadtheir guns and discharge another volley.
After a few minutes of sharp hand to hand fighting those of theSwahilis who had not been speared in the first onrush threw downtheir muskets—and Sheena was mistress of Kilma. And it waswell for the Swahilis that Ekoti was not their conqueror for he waslusting to wreack bloody vengeance on the hated slavers, and ittook all of Sheena's power and prestige to prevent a generalmassacre.
Meanwhile, at the first alarm, Rick and his little band hadtaken to the bush, and were now circling around the town to leadthe Abama women and children to the safety of its walls. Sleman binAli and his column had advanced several miles along the Bampo roadin hot pursuit of the elusive caravan which seemed to have meltedinto the dust before his eyes. Even at the sound of gunfire he didnot grasp immediately what had happened. And when he did turn back,and again looked upon his stronghold, it was to see Rick and theAbama women and children streaming into the town through thewestern gate.
"Merciful Allah!" he gasped. "That daughter of Shaitan—mayshe burn in hell!" And then he was seized by a paroxysm of ragethat left him in a state of collapse before it was spent.
AT sundown Sleman bin Ali encamped on the plain within gunshotof the town's walls. And then began a siege which, if not unique inthe annals of warfare, was a strange and rare inversion ofclassical examples—for while the besieged gorged themselveson the biltong in the town's storerooms and drank of clearfountains, the besiegers starved and thirsted on the sun-scorchedveldt. Sleman bin Ali had the guns, but not enough powder and shotto risk an assault upon the town and Sheena did not have theman-power to risk a pitched battle on the plain. And it was notnecessary that she should, since it was not in the nature of thingsthat the siege could last long.
Calmly she awaited Sleman bin Ali's inevitable submission to herwill. In the Arab's garden she lay, full length on her belly in apatch of moonlight. Outside of the enclosing walls the night wasfilled with the rumble of drums and the victory chant of theAbamas. She appeared to be asleep, and no sleeping jungle cat couldhave been more still. Her hair fell in shimmering waves over hershoulders and face, but through the golden veil she was watchingRick who sat on a stone slab near the pool where the fountaingurgled and the lotus shone with the lustre of pearls in themoonlight.
The Jungle Queen's eyebrows were drawn together by a frown.Something had changed Rick's attitude toward her. Ever since theattack on the town he had been strangely silent, and he did notlook at her as he had been wont to do. Even now, when he mightfeast his eyes in secret, he was not looking at her, but kept hiseyes steadfastly fixed on the stars. His aloofness was like theprick of a knife point. Her brain told her that there was anunspoken reproach behind it, but her woman's heart whispered thatit might be something else, and became strangely tumultous at thethought. Impulsively, she decided to put both mind and heart atrest, and got to her feet in a swift, lithe movement.
He rose from his seat as she came swaying toward him. She smiledand asked softly:
"Why are you angry with me, Rick?"
He looked surprised and answered quickly, "I am not angry,Sheena."
"Then why do you not look at me?"
The slow smile came to his lips, and he clasped his hands behindhis back. "You should know without asking, Sheena. Did you not saythat men reach for what they want?"
She smiled. No, she had not lost her power over him. It was verystrong now, the gleam in his eyes and his tightly compressed lipstold her that. She felt his power too, wondered how strong it was,and her heart seemed to jump into her throat and take her breathwith its wild beating. Suddenly she was conscious only of hisnearness, and the primitive paean of the drums pounding in herblood. As in a dream she heard herself say:
"So! But you keep your hands behind your back, Brass Eyes. Isthat to say that you do not want me?"
She saw the startled look come into his eyes, and then his armswere about her, his kiss hot on her lips. For a moment she clung tohim, forgetful of all else. Then suddenly it flashed into her mindthat this man's power to stir her was as great as her own to stirhim. In sudden alarm she stiffened in his arms and tried to pushhim off. But he only tightened his grip about her waist, and hisarms were strong, crushing her to him. She felt the will to resistslipping from her; and, half in anger, half in terror, she snatchedher knife from her belt and drove the point into the fleshy part ofhis forearm. With a startled cry he released her. She jumped backand stood glaring at him.
He was very angry, so angry that he could not speak for amoment. Then he said in a low, tense voice:
"You, you witch! You asked for that, and I'll tame you if it'sthe last thing I do on earth!"
"Stand back from me!" she warned.
For a long moment they stood glaring at each other. Graduallyhis anger died. He pulled a rag from his pocket and bound it aroundhis forearm.
"I am sorry for that," she told him. "But you would not let mego."
He looked down at the spreading, red stain on the rag, shook hishead and said: "In a jungle garden I plucked a flower and a thorndrew my blood. That's an old Swahili saying."
"Do not try to pluck another," she told him. "Abama spears aresharper than thorns. Leave this country soon."
He looked at her steadily, his eyes very bright. "I'll leave,"he said. "But I'll be gone just as long as it takes me to get thatdamned ivory down to the coast. Then I'll come back for you,Sheena."
She tossed her golden head. "Truly there is no end to yourfolly!" she said. "And I tell you now, as I told Ekoti, that I willmate with you, or any man, when the leaves of the majuti treesfall. That is my own saying."
"And I've heard others say much the same thing," said he.
"Others? What others—who—" She checked herself asshe saw the slow smile come to his lips. Furious with herself sheturned away.
"I'll tell you about them, my girl," Rick muttered as she passedswiftly from sight under the arched doorway to the garden. "Somedaywhen we're nice and cozy—and you haven't got that knife."
A LITTLE before noon on the second day of the siege Rick wascalled to the roof of Sleman bin Ali's house. Sheena was therelooking out across the plain. She pointed and Rick saw the Arab andPero advancing to the gate. They carried a white rag on a pole.
"We go to meet them," Sheena told him coldly.
She led the way down. Rick ran to his room and snatched up hisgunbelt, and hurried after Sheena, buckling the belt about hiswaist as he went.
Together they passed out of the gate, and came to a halt aboutfifty paces from it, and waited for Pero and the Arab to come up tothem. The sun in its full meridian vigor beat down on the plain.Distant objects were blurred by the heat waves, so that the hilltops seemed to be disconnected from their bases and to hangtrembling in space.
Sleman bin Ali's bearing was dignified, his expression calm.Pero smiled, but the suppressed anger in his eyes was as hot as theground under Sheena's feet. He was the first to speak. He addressedhimself to Rick:
"It is a clever trick that you have turned, senhor. I made ajoke of your wits but I am not laughing now."
"I never had what it takes to pull anything like that," Ricktold him with a grin. "I'm just lucky enough to be on the rightside of the fence."
Sleman bin Ali was silent, pulling at his beard, and regardingSheena with black, intelligent eyes.
"We are reasonable men, Sleman and I," Pero went on. "We offertwenty fraslas of ivory, and safe conduct to the coast."
"The ivory is not yours to give," Sheena told him coldly. "AndRick will leave this country when he is ready. Doubtless he willtake you with him to the coast where your own people will punishyou."
"Holy Saints, the cock is silent while the hen cackles!" Peroexclaimed with a malicious grin.
"Be silent!" Sleman's voice cut in sharply. "Sheena, I am not afool like this one. I know when I am beaten. What is yourwill?"
"You will free your slaves. You will give up the ivory this manstole, and you will give up your guns so that you can raid no morevillages."
"Wallai!" exclaimed the Arab, and lifted his eyes to heaven. "Tothe first two conditions I agree. To the last I cannot agree. Icannot leave my people unarmed among savages. Do what you will withme, but in the name of Allah I ask mercy for the women and childrenwho call me chief."
Rick touched Sheena's arm and whispered a few words. She noddedher head and said aloud: "I will do as you ask, Rick, to show thatthere is no anger in my heart now." Then to Sleman she said: "Myfriend says that if you swear on your sacred book you will keepyour word. Swear that you will not raid another kraal, and you maykeep your guns."
Again Sleman bin Ali lifted his eyes to heaven and spread widehis arms. "Allah is all-wise, all-knowing!" he intoned piously. "Insha Allah! I will swear on the Koran, Sheena."
"Then let it be so," said Sheena coolly. "Ekoti's warriors willstay in the town until Rick has made two marches to the coast, thenwe will go in peace. Food and water will be sent out to your camp.I have spoken."
Just as she turned to go Pero dodged behind the Arab, his teethbared by a snarl of rage and hate. Out of the tail of his eyes Ricksaw his hand flash down to his gun butt. He whirled around, and theroar of his Colt blended with the report of Pero's big revolver.The Portuguese staggered, clutched at Sleman's robe, and draggedthe old man down as he fell.
"Allah be praised!" gasped Sleman as Rick helped him to hisfeet. "Your bullet might have struck me, did he not know his own!"He looked down at Pero. "Dog of a Nazarani. Fool." He lifted hisfoot to kick the body but Sheena's voice stopped him.
"Speak softly of the dead!" said she.
"The peace of Allah be with him, and with you, Sheena!" Slemanbin Ali said hastily. "And may the withering hand of old age nevertouch thy beauty." To which, under his breath, Rick added afervent, "Amen!"
At long last the rain came, and on the following day Rickmarched out of Kilma. From the roof of Sleman bin Ali's houseSheena watched until his caravan vanished into the rain-mist thatnow hung over the Bampo road. Then she went slowly down to thegarden.
Again the strange feeling of emptiness assailed her. His partingwords had been: "Until we meet again!" And truly, he was foolenough to dare anything. Absently, she pulled a flower from a bushas she moved toward the fountain, and started with a sharp intakeof breath as a thorn pricked her finger. Smiling faintly, she drewthe thorn out, and watched a drop of blood ooze from the tinywound. At a faint sound she looked around.
Ekoti had come to stand guard over her. Near the gateway heleaned on his spear, his eyes watchful, his dark face impassive.The Jungle Queen's hand tightened on the flower she still held. Atremulous sigh parted her lips, and she tossed the crushed blossominto the pond.
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