书城小说经典短篇小说101篇
16973600000249

第249章 A QUESTION OF TIME(3)

The sons and nephews of the Montese woman had marchedfor thirty-six hours, and the steel of their weapons had not beendimmed by any moisture other than the dew, when, suddenlyrounding a turn in the mountain path, they met three men.

The first of the three at that moment was the “tulisane”

leader, and him, in thirty seconds, they had driven six lancesthrough. His partner, with a scream of terror, dashed into thetrackless forest and disappeared. He need not. The demandfor a sacrifice was appeased, and the men who had killed the“tulisane” cared as little for his companion as they did for thewhite man who had been his prisoner. All they wanted, now,was to get back to the Montese country, and to the new hutswhich their women would have been building in their absence.

The white man’s words they could not understand, but hisgestures were intelligible, and before they parted, he to hurryback towards the river and they towards the Montese country,they had cut the cords which bound the soldier’s hands andhobbled his feet, and thus had left him free to make such hasteas he could.

Even then the afternoon was well nigh gone when themessenger reached the river at the place where he had beendragged from it; and practically all his journey was yet beforehim, wearied as he was.

For once, though, fortune favored him. His dug-out hadgrounded on a sandy island hardly a dozen rods below whereit had been overturned, and swimming out to it, he soon hadrighted it and was on his way again.

At first the forest on each side was a tropic swamp. Then theriver grew more swift, with here and there rapids in which ittook all his skill with his clumsy paddle to keep his boat frombeing upset. The ground had begun to grow higher here, andback from the banks there were rank growths of hemp andpalm trees.

A few miles farther, and he was in the mountains, the riverwinding about like a lane of water between walls which werealmost perpendicular, and covered with the densest, brightgreen foliage, in which parrots croaked hoarsely and monkeyschattered sleepily as they settled themselves for the night. Thewalls of the living canon grew narrower and steeper. The riverhere was as still as a lake, and the current so sluggish that onlyhis labour with the paddle sent the “banca” forward. It grewdark quickly and fast, down in the bottom of this mountaingorge, and by and by the twilight glow on the tops of thebanks, when he would peer up at them, grew fainter.

The soldier strained his eyes to look ahead. Would the livinggreen canons of that river never end? It was dark now, exceptthat the stars in the narrow line of sky above the gorge sentdown light enough to make the surface of the water gleamfaintly and mark out his course.

He drew his paddle from the water, and holding it so thatthe drops which trickled from it would make no noise, listenedbreathlessly for the sound of the falls which marked the siteof the village he was to find, and at it leave his boat for theland again. A night bird screamed in the forest, and then therewas utter silence, until a soft splash in the water beside himrevealed the ugly head of a huge black crocodile following thedug-out.