The Fire-Gods A Tale of the Congo by Charles Gibson (classic books for 7th graders TXT) 📕

forward at the quarry. When, at last, he fell asleep this thought was

dominant in his mind.

He awoke suddenly, and found the same question on his lips: why were

they blasting at the quarry? He could not have been asleep for more

than a few hours, for the moon was but newly arisen. On consulting his

watch, he found that it was only half-past twelve.

He failed in his endeavours to go to sleep again; so he sat up, and

tried to think the matter out. He had already accomplished part of his

mission: he had discovered that Cæsar had not more than six Arabs with

whom to defend the stockade. It remained for him, on the following

morning, to see if he could find a point upon the ridge whence

rifle-fire could be opened upon Makanda. For the time being, however,

he resolved to go down into the valley under cover of darkness, to cross

the suspension bridge and examine the quarry.

Leaving his haversack, water-bottle and rifle behind him, he armed

himself with his revolver, and set forward down the hill, making a wide

detour around the kraal. He was then devoutly thankful that Gyp had

departed from the land of the living. He found that he was obliged to

pass nearer to the settlement than he liked; and had the Great Dane been

on watch, no doubt she would have given the alarm.

As it was, he passed in safety, and reached the river bank. He had no

difficulty in finding the suspension bridge, which he crossed on tiptoe,

as rapidly as possible. On the other side his attention was immediately

attracted by the loud groans of the sufferers who had been left to their

fate.

It was quite beyond his power to do anything to help these men. He had

no medicines; he could not speak their language; and in the majority of

cases, the disease was so far gone as to be incurable.

Before he left the hills, the moon had disappeared behind a bank of

clouds. During the last ten minutes, a tempest had been driving up from

the west, which now burst with all its force upon the valley of the

Hidden River.

Africa is the land of mighty storms. The sky grew so dark that it was

impossible for Max to see one yard before him. Then, there approached

in one wild, savage gust, a roaring, raging wind that bent the great

trees of the forest like saplings and picked up the water in the lake

before Makanda in little driving waves, whilst the rain came down in

sheets. The suspension bridge swung to and fro like a kite. There came

flash upon flash of lightning which illumined the quarry, so that the

bare walls of rock were blazing like a furnace.

The lightning lasted for seconds at a time, and at such times the scene

stood for all that was barbarous and fantastic. The dark, mysterious

river flowed upon its course through the narrow gorge where the

lightning beat upon the rocks. The electricity in the air flashed, died

out, and flashed again, like thousands of sparks in the wind. And

there, upon the white sand, writhing in torture, were the dark forms of

those who had been stricken by the pestilence.

Max had never felt so powerless. He was in the heart of the Unknown.

Close at hand, lay those who had been stricken by a force which all the

resource of modern science had entirely failed to conquer. Overhead,

echoed and mirrored by the rocks, the typhoon rent the sky with sheets

of fire, whilst peal upon peal of thunder caused the earth to tremble.

Yet Max was by no means disposed to forget the object of his quest. He

was determined to find out the nature of the work which was carried on

at the quarry. He hastened forward, and presently blundered into one of

the great heaps of sifted débris.

He picked up a handful of this and examined it in the light of the

lightning. As far as he could make out, it was composed of a kind of

fine gravel, in which appeared great quantities of a green stone, known

as serpentine.

Being unable to find out anything definite from the heaps of debris, he

resolved to examine the quarry. The wind was too great to permit him to

strike a match, even had that been prudent. He was obliged to rely upon

the lightning to guide him in his search. He availed himself of the

opportunity of a series of flashes to run to the quarry, and there he

found himself in impenetrable darkness.

He stood waiting for the lightning to return. It seemed that the storm

was already passing. These tropical hurricanes, that often uproot the

trees of the forest, are seldom of long duration. They are too violent

to last for many minutes.

Max was beginning to think that the storm was passed, when the sky

immediately overhead burst into a lurid glow, and almost simultaneously

a deafening peal of thunder rolled across the valley. Max leaned

forward to examine the face of the rock; and as he did so, he was seized

suddenly from behind.

As quick as thought, he whipped his revolver from its holster; and

immediately the weapon was struck from his hand.

The lightning still continued, jumping like fire-light; and Max was able

to make out the dark eyes and the pointed beard of Cæsar.

The Portuguese was aided by an Arab. The struggle that ensued was no

more than an affair of seconds. Max, though he fought with the strength

that comes of desperation, was overpowered from the first, and presently

he was thrown violently to the ground. There his hands were tied fast

behind his back. Cæsar was heard to laugh.

"Get up," said he, and then ran on in his broken English: "You must

think me a fool, if I do not keep a sentry by night over the richest of

my possessions. Come, follow me."

He led the way across the bridge, and Max had no alternative but to obey

him. The Arab, rifle in hand, brought up the rear.

They passed around the eastern shore of the lake, walking on the crisp

sand in which their boots sank to the ankles. Max saw the kraal wherein

the man’s slaves were asleep; and a few minutes afterwards they came to

the stockade. Cæsar led the way into his hut--the hut in which Crouch

and he had played cards some weeks before. He told Max to sit down upon

a chair, and placed himself on the other side of the room, with his

loaded revolver ready to his hand.

"If you endeavour to escape," said he, "I shoot. I advise you to remain

still, and listen to what I have to say."

Max looked about him. As far as he could see there was no method of

escape. His wrists had been bound securely.

"In the first place," said Cæsar, "I would like to know for what reason

you have meddled in my affairs."

"You are a slave-dealer," said Max.

"That may, or may not, be true."

"It is true," cried the young Englishman, his anger rising in a flood.

"I know it. The employment of slaves is a sin in the eyes of both God

and man. Justice is the duty of every one; and that is why we have

meddled--as you call it--in your affairs."

"I have already pointed out," said Cæsar, "that the laws of civilization

do not apply to Makanda. But that is beside the mark. I understand you

are a doctor, that you have had some sort of medical training."

Max answered that that was so.

"Do you understand the treatment of cholera?"

"I know the various methods that have been tried," said Max; "but, as

you probably know, they are seldom successful."

It was at that moment that Max heard a loud groan which issued from a

hut not far away.

"Do you hear that?" asked Cæsar.

Max nodded his head.

"That is my friend, de Costa. When he returned to the stockade this

evening he was taken ill with cholera. I went to look at him an hour

ago, just before my sentry informed me that you were in the quarry. He

is dying."

"How does that concern me?" asked Max.

"It concerns you," answered Cæsar, "inasmuch as it concerns myself. Your

life is in my hands. I can either kill you, or place an iron collar

around your neck and yoke you to a gang of slaves. If you do not do as

I wish, I will have you shot. If you obey me, you may continue to

live--as a slave."

"What is it you want?" asked Max.

"I want you to do what you can to save de Costa. He is of some use to

"I will do what I can," said Max.

Outside, the Arab was on guard. Cæsar lead the way to de Costa’s hut;

and there, Max found the half-caste stretched upon his bed, with

features drawn and haggard, and his complexion of a ghastly purple hue.

His body was all twisted in his agony. He was too far gone to speak.

"Now," said Cæsar, "I do not feel disposed to untie your hands; but you

will kindly look at the bottles of medicine on that shelf, and see if

you can find anything that might be of use."

Max searched the shelf where the half-caste kept his stock of drugs, and

had no difficulty in finding the very thing he wanted, namely, opium.

He found also bismuth and nitrate of silver. He instructed Cæsar how to

mix these drugs in the ordained proportions; and the Portuguese placed a

glass containing the medicine at the sick man’s bedside. It is

noteworthy that he took care not to touch the patient, for the disease

is one of the most contagious in the world.

"Will he live, do you think?" asked Cæsar.

"It is impossible to say," said Max.

"You can do nothing else?"

"Absolutely nothing. He has reached the turning point. If he does not

die in an hour or so, he will live."

"Come," said Cæsar, "we must not risk contagion."

Outside the hut he paused, and spoke to the Arab, who immediately left

the stockade. He then ordered Max to enter his hut, and followed with

his loaded revolver in his hand.

"You have come to spy out my secrets," said he. "You are at liberty to

learn as much as you wish. It can make no difference to me; for I

intend that you shall never see Europe again."

So saying, he drew a bunch of keys from his pocket, and stepped to the

great, padlocked chest on the other side of the room. One by one, he

unlocked the padlocks, and then threw back the lid, and stood by,

holding the candle over the contents.

"Here," said he, "see for yourself. Few have ever witnessed such a

sight."

Max drew nearer, and looked down into the box. For some seconds he

stood as if spellbound, unable to move his gaze. The chest was about

three-quarters full of the most enormous Oriental rubies.

Cæsar took one at random, and held it before the light. Garnets had

been found in Africa, and even spinels; but these were genuine rubies of

the highest quality, such as had hitherto only been discovered in the

famous mines of Ava.

When Max looked up into the face of the Portuguese the man was smiling,

so that his white teeth showed in the blackness of his beard.

"You see," said he, "I did not come here on a wild-goose chase after

all. I first came to this river five years ago, and discovered the

rubies of Makanda. I promptly engaged the services of de Costa, who had

worked in the mines of Santa Fé in Mexico. This treasure-chest contains

the result of the labour of two years."

"And why have you employed slaves?" asked Max. "Why did you not set to

work like an honest man?"

"For a simple reason," answered Cæsar; "I desired the maximum