Guy in the Jungle: or, A Boy's Adventure in the Wilds of Africa

Crouched by their dungeon door, they listened by the hour, and at last their patience was rewarded. Voices were heard, steps approached and died away, and then all was silent.

The time for action had come.

Melton threw himself on the straw and moaned. Guy rapped sharply on the door and waited in suspense. Almost instantly it opened, and the guard, a tall Nubian, pushed his lamp into the doorway and followed it up with head and shoulders.

"Canaris, Canaris!" said Guy earnestly, pointing to Melton, who uttered at that moment a most unearthly groan.

The guard drew back and shut the door. His soft tread echoed down the corridor, and all was still.

The suspense of the next five minutes Guy will never forget as long as he lives. It seemed to his excited imagination as though an hour had passed by, when suddenly sounds were heard in the corridor, and in an instant more Canaris stood before them, his leather case at his side, a lamp in his hand. He closed the door, opened the case, and drew out two wide linen tunics and two long jackets such as the Emir's troops wore.

"Put these on," he whispered. "You can wear your helmets; there are many of them in Harar."

As he spoke he drew an Arab burnous over his head, shading entirely his light hair and mustache. He next pulled the revolvers and shells from under the straw, distributed them around, and with the knife cut the rope in a dozen parts. By this time Guy and Melton had donned their disguises and were ready for action.

Up to this point Guy had supposed that Canaris had bribed the guards and paved the way out of prison.

"You are sure the guards will let us pass?" he said.

Canaris looked at him in wonder, and then a smile rippled over his face.

"You thought I had bribed the guards," he said. "Ten thousand pounds could not tempt them. They would only lose their heads in the morning. It matters little," he added. "They will lose them anyhow. But our time has come; be ready now to assist."

He motioned Guy and Melton behind the door, and then, pulling it partly open, uttered a few words in a strange tongue.

Instantly the powerful frame of the big Nubian entered, and as he stood for one second on the dungeon floor, sudden mistrust in his ugly features, Canaris leaped at his throat and bore him heavily to the ground.

"Quick!" he cried, and in an instant Guy and Melton had seized the struggling man's arms and feet.

Still pressing the fellow's windpipe with one muscular hand, Canaris thrust a gag into the gaping mouth, and in two minutes their captive was lying bound and helpless on the straw.

"What did you tell him?" asked Guy.

"I said our lamp was going out," Canaris replied. "And now for the man at the prison door. I must get him inside, for the post is in plain view of the guard at the gate."

A solution of this puzzling problem was closer at hand than anyone imagined. The creaking of a door was heard, followed by approaching footsteps.

"Here he comes now!" said Canaris in an excited whisper. "He has grown suspicious, and has determined to investigate. Quick!"

Canaris darted to the other side of the doorway, and then ensued another period of chilling suspense.

The tread came nearer, and at last another stalwart Nubian blocked the doorway with his massive bulk. His look of wonder was comical as he saw his comrade gagged and bound on the dungeon floor, but before the half articulated exclamation could escape his lips Canaris had him by the throat, and down they came. The fellow uttered one cry, and then, as his head struck the edge of the door in falling his struggles lessened, and with no trouble at all he was gagged and bound.

Canaris tore the ammunition from their belts, handed Guy and Melton their rifles, and then, blowing out the lamp, he pushed them into the corridor and bolted the door.

"Two heads will be off in the morning," he remarked grimly. "One more victory and we are out of prison."

He blew out the light that stood in the corridor and led the way through the darkness till he reached the door. He pulled it open, a crack revealing the moonlit courtyard, and took a long, careful survey.

"There is the man we want," he whispered, pointing across the court, and putting his eyes to the crevice Guy saw against the massive prison wall a dark shadow leaning grimly on a rifle.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE FLIGHT THROUGH THE TOWN

It was a critical situation for the three fugitives, crouching behind the heavy prison door. That grim sentry over yonder by the gate must be noiselessly and effectually overpowered, and that at once. Any moment guards might come from the palace, and then – oh, it was horrible! The public square, the executioner's gleaming knife, the roar of the populace!

Guy's brain whirled at this appalling panorama, and he clutched the door for support.

"Can't we rush on him?" asked Melton.

Canaris laughed grimly.

"Before we could take three steps from the door," he said, "the fellow would see us and alarm the palace. If I go alone the chances are that before you can reach me he would succeed in making an outcry. Our only hope lies in getting away from the town before our escape is discovered."

"But what are you going to do, Canaris?" asked Guy excitedly. "We are losing precious time."

"Keep cool," replied the Greek. "I will fix him in five minutes. Stay where you are and don't make a sound. When I wave my hand, then come."

He removed his burnous and stuffed it under his tunic. Then he calmly opened the door and walked straight across the court toward the guard, who looked up carelessly at his approach. With their eyes glued against the cracks of the door Guy and Melton waited in terrible suspense.

A short conversation ensued. Canaris turned and pointed toward the prison. The guard replied with many gestures, and finally in his eagerness placed his rifle against the wall. What followed was so swift and dexterous that it seemed like a dream.

The Greek's right hand shot out from his bosom clasping some glittering object. It struck the astonished guard on the forehead with a sharp click that echoed across the courtyard, and without a sound he dropped on his knees and then rolled over on the stone pavement.

Canaris waved his hand, and then the two captives dashed breathlessly across the courtyard.

"Is he dead?" asked Guy in a horrified whisper.

"Only stunned," replied Canaris. "I struck him with the butt of my revolver. Quick now; bind and gag him while I find the key and open the gate."

Guy hastily fastened the fellow's feet and arms and stuffed a roll of linen in his mouth.

Melton stood looking on. His wound was beginning to give him some pain again.

With a low exclamation of triumph Canaris pulled from the Nubian's waist a narrow belt on which hung a ponderous iron key. All rose to their feet. Guy dropped the unconscious guard under the shadow of the wall. The supreme moment had come. The great courtyard, white in the light of the moon, was empty. The heavy doors leading to the palace were shut. Behind the high prison walls all seemed quiet. The city was asleep.

The first stage of the journey was accomplished in safety. The terrible passage through the town was before them now. With a hand that trembled slightly Canaris inserted the key in the lock. It turned with a harsh rattle, and at a touch of the hand the brazen gate swung outward.

The Greek made a hasty survey and then stepped noiselessly outside. They were in a narrow side street which ran past the Emir's palace. The side toward the prison was in deep shadow. On the other side was a long stone building, with two or three narrow grated windows.

"That is an Arab storehouse opposite," said Canaris. "We are safe for the present. Now follow me closely. Walk boldly and fearlessly and keep a few feet apart."

He started off at a rapid gait, his white burnous tossing on his shoulders, and with fast-beating hearts Guy and Melton came close behind. In five minutes they turned into another narrow passage running at right angles, and, continuing along this for forty or fifty yards, made still another turn.

The two streets they had just traversed had been lined for the most part with big warehouses and slave-markets. It was, in fact, the business part of the town, alive with people during the day, deserted at night. But now a crisis was at hand. Canaris halted his little party in the shadow of a building and pointed straight up the street.

"Yonder lies the main avenue," he said. "We must cross it to reach our destination. Keep yourselves well under control, don't show any fear, and if any people are about don't look at them. If they address you make no reply."

Guy marveled at the Greek's coolness under such terrible circumstances. Every moment was a torture to him as long as they remained in the midst of these bloodthirsty fiends.

In five minutes they reached the main street. From the slight ridge on which they stood they could see stretching afar on either hand the moonlit roadway, spectered with the dark shadows of the houses. They had been traveling on three sides of a square. Fifty yards down the street the tower of the Emir's palace was visible, outlined faintly against the pale-gray sky.

As they stepped from the shadows upon the open roadway, an Arab stalked from a doorway opposite, and without troubling himself to come nearer addressed Canaris in a strange tongue.

Guy's heart seemed to leap into his throat as he nervously handled the revolver that stuck in his belt.

Canaris coolly replied in a low voice. The Arab evinced no intention of coming any nearer, and in an instant more the fugitives had plunged into the gloom of another cross street.

On all sides now were rude abodes, some of sandstone, others of clay, and at some places even tents were to be seen. Laughter and loud talking came from open windows. Two or three fierce looking Somali warriors stalked past in dignified silence, and an Arab sheik, wrapped closely in his garment, looked at them cautiously as he hurried by.

Melton now walked with difficulty. His wound had broken out afresh and was bleeding. The weight of the rifle was too much for him, and he was compelled to abandon it in the road.

"A little farther now," said Canaris encouragingly, "and we shall be safe."

Melton tried to walk faster, leaning on Guy's arm, but at last, with a moan of pain, he sank to the ground.

"Go on, leave me; save yourselves," he whispered feebly, as they bent over him and tried to lift him to his feet.

"One more effort, my dear Melton," implored Guy in an agony, "only one more effort, and we shall be safe. We can carry you if you can't walk."

"No," he gasped. "Go at once. You can escape. I would only keep you back and cause your capture; better one than three."

Guy threw an appealing glance at Canaris. The Greek's features were immovable. He calmly waited the result of Guy's pleading.

"My brave fellow," said Chutney, in a husky voice, kneeling down and clasping Melton's hand, "I refuse to accept your sacrifice. I shall remain here with you and we will meet our fate together. Canaris, save yourself while there is yet time. I will not desert my friend."

The Greek paused irresolutely. The convulsive workings of his face showed the struggle going on in his mind. Suddenly Melton rose on one elbow and cried excitedly:

"Go, go, I tell you."

Guy shook his head. "No," he said decidedly. "I shall remain."

"You are throwing your lives away," said Melton bitterly. "Here, help me up. I will make another effort."

In an instant Guy and Canaris had gladly pulled him to his feet, and off they went again as rapidly as possible. All was quiet around them. A deep silence, broken only by the occasional low of a cow, had enwrapped the town. So far their escape had remained undiscovered.

"Ah, here we are," said Canaris joyfully, turning down a dark, dirty passage, so narrow that the three could barely walk abreast. "In three minutes we shall reach the wall."

Three minutes is not a long time, but it is long enough for many things to happen. They had traversed half the length of the street when Guy, moved by one of those sudden, unexplainable impulses, turned his head.

Ten yards behind, crawling with soft and stealthy tread, was a grim, half naked Somali. How long he had been following in their track it was impossible to tell. But there he was, a stern Nemesis, the moonlight shining on spear and shield, and glowing on the dark, villainous features.

Guy and Canaris wheeled round and stood with drawn revolvers. The Somali clutched his spear and drew up his shield. The silence remained unbroken.

One single cry and a mad horde would rush forth like bees from a hive. The Somali made one step backward, then another, and then, opening his mouth, he gave a yell that was caught up in horrible echoes till the street fairly rang.

"Malediction!" cried Canaris, in uncontrollable fury, "that's your last shout," and, taking quick aim, he pulled his revolver on the shouting Somali.

A stunning report, a hollow groan, and down came the savage all in a heap, while the heavy shield bounded with a clatter over the stones.

CHAPTER XIV.

OVER THE WALLS

The crack of the revolver, following closely on the Somali's loud yell, had barely died away in echoes when the dark street seemed fairly to burst into life.

The fugitives did not wait to see the result of the shot, but as they dashed madly forward they heard the people calling wildly to one another as they hurried from their dwellings.

Even Melton kept up with wonderful endurance. The excitement had given him false strength, and he kept even pace with Guy and Canaris.

Close at hand was the termination of the street, and as they were within ten yards of it a big Somali suddenly leaped out and barred the way.

The fugitives were going at a rate of speed which it was simply impossible to check. Canaris was a foot in advance, and in an instant more he would have impaled himself on the savage's outpointed spear.

It was too late to use the revolver which he still carried in his hand, but quick as a flash he hurled it with all his might, and with such correct aim that it landed plump on the fellow's head with an ugly crack.

The Somali howled with agony, letting the spear drop from his nerveless hands, and just as it clattered to the ground Canaris was upon him with a rush, and down they went together, the Somali undermost.

Canaris was up in a trice, and Guy and Melton, bounding on behind, trampled the half unconscious savage under their feet.

"Go on," said Guy fiercely. "We will outwit them yet. Brace up, Melton; we'll soon be out of this hole."

Forbes gritted his teeth to suppress a cry of pain.

"I can't keep up much longer," he said. "I'll faint from loss of blood."

The place they had just entered was the great trading locality and slave market of the town. At this time of year it was deserted, but the empty stalls and booths stood about in endless confusion.

The wisdom of the route chosen by Canaris was now apparent, for this labyrinth of paths, which wove an intricate network through the stalls, offered just the opportunity they wanted; and, following the Greek's guidance, they twisted in and out in a tortuous line that gradually brought them toward the opposite side of the market.

The outcry behind them had by this time swelled to a perfect tumult, and the night air bore it to their ears with startling distinctness.

Fortunately for the fugitives, this vast court was surrounded by grim slave prisons, and they encountered no one in their flight. They reached the opposite side of the market in safety, and, plunging in among the mass of empty prisons, ran on, panting and breathless.

The Greek's white burnous fluttered on ahead, turning angle after angle, diving into dark alleys and shooting across open spaces. At last he stopped and, too exhausted to speak, waved his hand in triumph at the frowning wall of the town that towered directly over their heads for twenty feet.

Close by the wall was a circular stone tower, partly in ruins, and into this Canaris dived eagerly. It was an anxious moment to the two who waited on the outside, but at last the Greek reappeared in triumph with his hands full. The Jewish merchant had kept his promise.

He paused a second or two to listen to the outcry in the town.

"They are coming nearer," he said. "Keep cool and don't get excited. They will search every stall in the market before a man comes near us, and besides this is the last place they would look. They will never suspect us of any intention to scale the wall. Still we must lose no time," he added. "Now here is a box of shells apiece; put them in your pockets, buckle these sabers around your waists, take the rifles I bought. They are better, so you may throw the others away."

"Forbes can't carry one," said Guy. "What shall we do with it?"

"Leave it behind," replied Canaris. "We have burden enough. I had the Jew put up the stuff in three oilcloth bags. We must divide it into two loads."

He turned the contents of all on the ground.

"Yes, everything is here," he said. "Crackers, dates, figs, two lamps, a box of candles, matches, and two flasks of palm oil. Now, then, for the final move."

He divided the stuff into two bags, and then, going back into the guard tower, came out with a bunch of long ropes.

"Hurry up," said Guy. "Do you observe how close the sounds are coming?"

"They are searching the market," said Canaris calmly. "They take us for a party of drunken Arabs out on a lark."

"Then they don't suspect the truth?" asked Guy.

Canaris laughed.

"If it were known that the Emir's English prisoners had escaped," he said, "the fiends up yonder would be making more noise than the surf that breaks on the rocks at Bab el Mandeb."

The ropes had at one end a rude iron hook, and, taking one of them, Canaris threw it over the wall, retaining the other end in his hand.

He pulled it in a yard or two, and then the rope became suddenly taut. The hook was secure. He took a sharp glance around him, measured with his ear the hoarse shouts that still rose from the slave market, and then went nimbly up the rope, hand over hand. He reached the top in safety.

"Now fasten the stuff on," he whispered down; "put the other ropes in the bag."

Guy obeyed instructions, and Canaris rapidly drew the string up. He then speedily hooked a second rope to the wall and dropped it down.

"Fasten Forbes to one rope, and come up the other yourself," he called out to Chutney.

Here a difficulty arose. Melton was, of course, unable to climb the rope, and if a noose were slipped under his arms the wound would be torn and lacerated by the strain.

"It's no use, Chutney," he said. "I foresaw this. You must get off without me."

Guy was in despair. He was just on the point of bidding Canaris make his escape alone, when a happy thought struck him.

"I have it, Melton," he cried joyfully. "Have you much power in your arms?"

"Yes," said Melton, "but not enough to go up that rope."

"That's all right. I don't want you to go up the rope," returned Guy. "Here, put your feet together and stand straight."

Hastily noosing the rope, he drew the knot tightly about Melton's legs just above the knee.

"You take a good grip with your hands," he added. "There won't be much strain on your wound and we'll have you on the top in a jiffy."

Melton obeyed instructions, and Guy pulled himself speedily to the top.

"Crouch down," said Canaris; "don't you see that watch-tower?" and he pointed to a dim mass rising from the wall some distance off. "That is the nearest tower," he added. "I hardly think they can see us, but it is better to take precautions."

The other two ropes were already dangling on the outer side of the wall. Canaris had planned everything for an emergency.

Guy took a hasty glance at the roofs and battlements spread before them on one side, the moonlit landscape on the other, and then he whispered down, "All right, Melton?"

"Yes, go ahead," came the faint reply.

"Quick, they are coming!" cried Canaris in sudden excitement, and as he spoke a yell went up close at hand, and three or four dark figures turned the corner of the nearest slave-prison.

A big Somali was in the lead, and, spying Melton, he raised his spear.

"You fiend!" cried Guy, and, lifting a loose stone from the wall, he hurled it down.

It struck the spear from the rascal's hand, and, before he could recover himself, Guy and Canaris had dragged Melton to the top of the wall by a prodigious effort.

"Down, down!" cried Canaris, and as they crouched low three or four spears went over their heads and a hoarse shout of rage went up from the baffled Somalis that was caught up and repeated far back into the town.

"Keep cool," cautioned Canaris; "the ropes are up; they can't reach us. Five minutes more, and – " The words froze on his lips. Loud above the shouts of the savages rose a harsh, metallic sound that vibrated in shuddering echoes through the night air. It was the beating of the tomtom at the Emir's palace.

An electric circuit could not have more speedily roused the town. A vast, sullen roar went up instantly, and then, mingled with the clang of the tomtom and the tumult of the people, rang out a harsh rattle of alarm-drums that swelled and spread until every oval watch-turret on the town walls was sounding the tocsin announcing to the subjects of Rao Khan the escape of the hated Englishmen.

CHAPTER XV.

THE PURSUIT

"Now for it," cried Canaris. "Don't be scared. In two minutes we'll be out of reach of these fiends.

His appearance belied his words, for he was trembling with fright. The rope about Melton's legs had not been loosened, and he was instantly lowered on the other side. In less time than it takes to tell, Guy and Canaris had joined him, and all three felt the solid earth beneath their feet again.

The situation was now extremely critical. The tomtom still rang out from the palace, and the drums were beating in the watch-towers, though their volume of sound could be heard but faintly above the constantly increasing roar of the maddened people.

The fugitives had scaled the wall at a point on the western side of the city very close to the southern angle; the western gate was still more remote, and from these gates the pursuit must come.

That it would come quickly no one could doubt, for the rabble of Somalis who had led the chase through the market-place had by this time reached the gates with the tidings of the fugitives' escape over the wall.

Canaris took a bag and a rifle and Guy followed his example.

Not a second of time was lost, but, turning to the southwest, they dashed down the long, slanting hill toward the valley that opened clear and distinct at their feet. Their ears rang with the horrid din and turmoil, and this spurred them on to greater efforts as they plunged forward with great strides.

At the angle of the wall stood a watch-tower, and from this coign of vantage the guards saw the fleeing fugitives, outlined by the treacherous moonlight.

Crack! crack! crack! rang their rifles, and the bullets whistled keenly through the air, but the flying figures went straight on and speedily vanished over the crest of the hill.

The valley beneath the town was skimmed across, and then, scaling a low stone wall, they plunged into the shadow of a big plantation and ran on between rows of limes and coffee trees.

Guy feared that the Arabs who owned these orchards would join in the pursuit, but Canaris assured him that there was little danger of that. An uproar in the town, he declared, was always the signal for the dwellers outside the walls to shut themselves in their houses.

A danger from another source, however, threatened them, for with a furious growl a great dog came bounding on behind, and by his loud outcry made the location of the fugitives very plain to their enemies.

The brute persistently followed them up, snapping at their heels, and baying loudly. No stones could be found, and to use firearms would only make matters worse. On the farther side of the plantation, however, the dog stopped and uttered a long-drawn howl that was caught up in echoes across the valley.

"I'm giving out," cried Melton faintly. "You'll have to leave me."