第 18 页

Arthur drew a long breath, and looked curiously at his rescuers. They paid no attention to him, but kept their eyes steadily on the shore.

They were plainly of the same race as the negroes among whom the aeronauts had fallen, but they differed from them in being of a far larger and stronger build. They were of one size, and wore a sort of a distinctive uniform — waist-clouts of lion skin, from each of which dangled a tail of the same animal.

By the side of every man lay a gigantic club and a long spear.

Arthur's immediate conviction was that the white king of the Karibegs had heard of the prisoners, and had sent these negroes to demand them. The uniform indicated that they were probably the royal bodyguard.

But the lad did not ponder long over the question, for there were more thrilling things to occupy his eyes and mind.

Evidently, there was going to be a lively scrimmage in a short time. Along the rocky shore the cannibals were gathering with defiant yells. The women and children had been sent to the rear, and there was no trace of Roden or Bunbury.

Arthur's heart was torn with dread. In one instant he was sure that his companions were yet alive; in the next he believed them to have perished by the knob- kerry.

Now he trembled with excitement, for the critical moment was at hand. All three canoes swung around, and grated at the base of the steep, rocky slope.

In spite of a hail of weapons from above, the gigantic negroes tumbled out and went up hand over hand, yelling what was evidently the tribal battle-cry.

They were soon at the top, and here a brief struggle ensued, while Arthur looked on from his seat in the canoe.

The cannibals were either overmatched by the weapons and heavier weight of their foes, or else they feared the king's displeasure.

At all events, they fought in a half-hearted way, and after losing half a dozen men, killed or wounded, they turned and fled ignominiously.

As soon as the rout began, Arthur left the canoe, and clambered to the top of the rock.

He saw the last of the cannibals just entering the forest, with the yelling pursuers close at their heels. Then he gazed in every direction for Roden and Bunbury, and his heart sickened when he found no trace of either, dead or alive.

Arthur started rapidly in the direction of the vil lage, and when he was nearly across the plateau, two negroes, wearing the lion skins, suddenly confronted him on the edge of the timber.

* * *

Chapter XXVII

He was startled for an instant, but he quickly concluded that the negroes had come to look after him. He examined them more closely as he drew near.

The one differed from his companion in having woolly hair, and being of a blacker color. His features were also different, and his whole bearing reminded the lad of a Zanzibar porter.

It was this fellow who, to Arthur's intense amazement, addressed him with:

"White boy make hurry; go help find him friends."

Arthur stood still, rooted to the spot.

"You speak English!" he cried hoarsely. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"My name Tombo," replied the negro. "Me spike good Inglis. White king's kraal way up lake. He tell me go save white mens from cannibals — bring ums back. "

"Who is the white king?" exclaimed Arthur in great excitement. "What is his name?"

"White king," muttered the negro. "He rule over many peoples — live in big stone kraal. Me head man of white king's army."

This was plain information, but it was not what Arthur wanted. Before he could ask more questions, however, a loud and angry tumult was heard in the direction of the village.

Tombo and his companion bolted off at full speed, making signs to the lad to stick with them.

They dashed through the brief strip of forest, and at the farther end Arthur slipped on the dead body of a cannibal, and sprawled headlong. As he rose to his feet, he picked up a knob-kerry that was lying near.

Then he looked for his companions, and found them missing. Before him was the open gate of the village, and from an invisible point within came horrid yells and shouts, and the crashing of blows.

The lad's blood grew hot with excitement, and he sped through the winding street of huts until a bend brought the whole scene into view.

He was able to single out the king's bodyguard by their lion skins, and he was soon in the thick of the fight, and wielding his knob-kerry in close proximity to Tombo.

It seemed that the cannibals had offered a stubborn resistance as soon as they found themselves within the village walls. So they stood at bay, all the blood-lust and evil of their natures stirred up.

Already, they had been driven back beyond the center of the village, and were still receding before their terrible antagonists.

As spears and clubs were the only weapons, more men were disabled than killed. The king's party suffered little. They tramped ruthlessly on over the fallen foes, yelling like a pack of bloodhounds.

Arthur was imprudently brave, and it seemed as though he bore a charmed life. In the hot excitement of the fight he hit right and left at the savage faces of the cannibals.

But he had not forgotten his brother and Bunbury, and it was the fear of never seeing them again that kept his rage and thirst for vengeance at fever heat.

His eyes were on the alert as he advanced, step by step, with Tombo and his men, but what he dreaded to see did not appear.

In a short time the cannibals had been beaten back to within twenty feet of the hut in which the three prisoners had spent the night.

Arthur caught a glimpse of the doorway, and as soon as he saw that two guards were posted in front of it, the conviction flashed upon him that Roden and Bunbury were confined inside.

Tombo evidently reached the same conclusion at the same time. He gave a loud command, and pointed forward with his club.

That quickly the king's men charged like angry bulls, and the cannibals were rolled helplessly back by the terrible wave.

In the brief struggle that ensued, Arthur was fairly lifted off his feet. Somehow or other he found himself in the front line, wielding his knob-kerry like a flail.

He saw the guarded hut but a few feet away, and was about to plunge toward it, when two bodies of cannibals swarmed suddenly out of the huts to right and left, and let fly a thick volley of spears.

The king's men had been drawn into an ambuscade, and after a feeble attempt to hold their ground, they fled back in confusion, leaving half a dozen dead and wounded behind.

But Arthur did not go with them, for the simple reason that a spear struck him broadside on the neck and toppled him over.

He was on his feet almost instantly, unhurt, except for a painful bruise. The hut was only six feet away, and the first thing he saw was one of the guards lying dead —transfixed by a spear, that had evidently come from his friends.

But the second guard was very much alive. In fact, he was making for the lad with a wicked-looking knife in his fist.

Quick action was all that saved Arthur's life. He whirled his knob-kerry overhead, and struck the negro a blow on the temple that completely stunned and disabled him.

Just at that time, the cannibals were following up their advantage by pressing hotly after the king's retreating men. They did not observe Arthur, nor he them.

On the spur of the moment the lad dropped on his knees and slipped through the tiny doorway of the hut. He shouted for joy when he saw Roden and Bunbury crouched in the far corner.

It was a thrilling and affecting meeting, but there was no time to be lost in congratulations or emotion.

The arms of the prisoner[s] were still bound behind them, and Arthur's first act was to untie the cords.

"Thank God!" cried Bunbury. "We are saved. I never expected to see you again, my lad."

"Is the coast clear?" demanded Roden, as he clasped his brother's hand. "Have the cannibals been driven out of the village?"

"Not yet," replied Arthur. "In fact, they've got the advantage just now. It won't do to stay here. We must get away as quickly as possible."

They hastened to the door, and on peeping out they were horrified to see a score of the enemy approaching the hut. The fight was still waging at a distance, to judge from the loud outcry.

"We're trapped!" cried Arthur in a tone of despair.

"Perhaps we can break our way out at the back," suggested Bunbury. "It's worth trying, lads."

Just then a crackling noise was heard, and flames and yellow smoke curled up around the doorway. The hut was on fire!

As the angry flames took a firmer hold on the dry thatch and wattle-work of the hut, Arthur and his companions rushed madly to the rear and began to tear at the wall.'

* * *

Chapter XXVIII

The dread of being burned alive gave them almost superhuman strength, and in less than a minute they had broken a hole nearly a foot in diameter.

Bunbury incautiously poked his head out, and then he jerked it back barely in time to dodge a furious blow from a club, dealt by some invisible enemy.

A burst of savage cries was heard, and an instant later a negro thrust his head and shoulders into the opening.

His scrutiny proved less fortunate than Bunbury's, for Arthur brought the knob-kerry down on the fellow's skull, and after a kick or two he became quiet.

He lay there for a moment, completely blocking up the hole, until his friends jerked him outside.

Arthur waited for another invasion, club in hand, but instead of that the gap was suddenly stopped by a huge bunch of thatch and straw.

Through this curls of stifling smoke began to ooze, and the ruddy glare of flames was seen. The hut was now burning at both ends.

The prisoners were almost frantic with horror. They saw no hope of escape. They were trapped like helpless rats.

"Heaven be merciful," cried Bunbury, "and send us an easy death. The fiends are trying to roast us alive."

"The smoke will suffocate us," said Roden. '" I can hardly breathe now."

"Lie flat!" shouted Arthur. "We'll fight for our lives as long as we can. There's a chance yet, for the king's men may rally and rescue us."

It was a very slim chance at best, but the instinct of preservation was still strong in the hearts of all three.

They threw themselves flat on the ground, faces downward, and fought hard for breath, while the smoke eddied thicker around them, and the flames devoured the crackling thatch.

Close outside there was frenzied yelling and screeching, and from a distance came fainter and more con fused sounds, that seemed to indicate that the battle was still going on.

It was easy to understand the situation. In anticipation of defeat, and by way of revenge on the king's party, the cannibals had fired the hut with the intention of burning the prisoners to death.

It was a truly fiendish device, and it seemed sure to succeed.

As the suffocating smoke came in dense clouds, and the flames crept up toward the roof, the boys lost all hope. A prayer for a speedy death was already on their lips when Bunbury struggled to his feet with a hoarse cry.

"I've tried to suffocate, and I can't!" he yelled. "We will die by lingering tortures if we stay here. Come, lads, let us break out before it is too late. It is better to perish by the spear and club."

Arthur and Roden rose stupidly, only half compre hending Bunbury's words. The smoke hid everything, and they groped blindly forward a few steps. The heat of the flames was scorching their limbs, and the struggle for breath was awful.

Roden fell weakly on his knees, and Arthur stooped down, and tried to raise him..

"Bunbury!" he cried, "where are you?"

There was a husky response from close by, and just then a terrific turmoil and din arose outside — shrieks of rage and pain, yells of triumph, and the dull smash of blows and falling bodies.

After a brief interval, that seemed all eternity to the suffering lads, they heard a hacking, ripping noise, and an instant later a gleam of dusky light pierced the darkness.

"Saved! saved!" cried Arthur, and with Roden clinging limply to him, he reeled across the hut, and through the jagged gap in the burning wall, and fell down in the cool, open air.

After that, the boys remembered nothing until they came to their senses and found themselves lying in the shade of a tree, a few yards away from the still blazing hut, which had so nearly been their tomb.

Bunbury was bending over them, bathing their faces with water, and pouring a little down their parched and burning throats.

"Lie still," he urged. "Don't try to rise. The danger is over."

But the boys insisted upon sitting up, and when they had propped their backs against the tree, they declared that they felt quite strong.

At first they could scarcely see, for the smoke had made their eyes sore and inflamed.

But gradually they made out nearby objects — the groups of stalwart negroes wearing the lion-skin waistclouts, and the dead bodies of the cannibals, that were sprinkled here and there on the ground.

Then it dawned upon them that the village was in possession of the king's men, and that the enemy had fled to the jungle.

Bunbury confirmed this belief.

"The fight is over," he said, "and there's not a cannibal in sight. It looks as though there was plain sailing ahead, lads."

"They are going to take us to the king," Arthur exclaimed eagerly.

He went on to tell his companions about his meeting and brief interview with Tombo.

"This white king must surely be our father!" cried Roden. "I can hardly wait to see him."

"It's more than possible, lads," said Bunbury; "but don't count on it too strongly, lest you should be disappointed. More than one traveler has been lost in Africa during the past ten years."

Just then Tombo hurried to the spot. There were red stains on his brawny limbs and lion skin, and his knob- kerry was a hideous sight.

"White mens feel better?" he said. "You walk out to big water?"

"Yes, we're all right," replied Arthur. "We can easily get to the lake."

"Much good," declared Tombo. "Me take you soon to king's kraal. First get white men's airship — burn bad cannibals' village."

With this he stalked quickly away, and gave a shout that brought his men to him. Bunbury and the boys were puzzled for a moment by the reference to the airship, but they soon understood what it meant.