Crouch p.r.i.c.ked up his ears like a terrier that scents a rat. The little man sat cross-legged, with his hands upon his ankles; and as he plied the Fan chief with questions, he positively wriggled where he sat.

He found out that the "Fire-G.o.ds" were white men--a fact that astonished him exceedingly. He was told that they were not white men like himself and his friends, but wicked spirits who controlled the thunder and who could make the earth tremble for miles around. Even the Fans feared them, and for several months none of the tribes had ventured into the valley of the "Hidden River."

"They're men with rifles," said Harden. "These people have never seen a firearm in their lives."

At that he led M'Wane from the hut, and, followed by Max and Crouch, he walked a little distance from the village. There, in the moonlight, he picked up a stone from the ground, and set this upon a branch. From a distance of about twenty paces, with M'Wane at his side, he lifted his rifle to his shoulder, and struck the stone with a bullet, so that it fell upon the ground.

"There," said he, "that is what your Fire-G.o.ds do; they are armed with rifles--like this."

But M'Wane shook his head. He had heard of rifles. Tribes they had raided upon the coast had spoken of the white men that could slay at a distance. But the Fire-G.o.ds were greater still. Every evening, in the valley of the Hidden River, loud thunder rent the air. The birds had left the valley--even the snakes had gone. The Fire-G.o.ds were kings over Nature. Moreover, they were merciless. Hundreds of natives--men of the Pende tribe, the Pambala and the Bakutu--had gone into the valley; but no one had returned.

At that Crouch set off towards the hut without a word. The others, following, found him seated cross-legged at the fire, tugging at the tuft of hair which grew beneath his lip. For some minutes the little wizened sea-captain spoke aloud to himself.

"I'll find out who these people are," said he. "White men may have gone up the river to trade; but it's bad for business if you get a reputation for murder. I don't understand it at all. I've heard of a white race in the centre of the continent; maybe it's they. I hope it is. At any rate, we'll go and see."

For a few brief moments he lapsed into silence. Then he tapped M'Wane on the arm.

"Will you take us to the Hidden River?" he asked.

M'Wane sprang to his feet, violently shaking his head. He protested that he dared do nothing of the sort. They could not disbelieve him, for the man was actually trembling in his limbs.

Crouch turned to Harden.

"I've a mind to look into this," said he.

"I, too," said the other.

"He won't take us," said Max.

"I'll make him," said Crouch. "For the present, I'm going to sleep. The boys will stick to the canoes. We must get back to the river to-morrow afternoon. Good-night."

So saying, he curled himself up like a hedgehog, and, resting his head upon his folded arms, immediately fell asleep.

It was already three months since they had left Banana Point at the mouth of the Congo. They had journeyed to the foot of the rapids by steamboat, and thence had carried their canoes across several miles of country. They had enjoyed a good deal of mixed shooting in the lower valley, and then they had said good-bye to the few trading stations, or factories, which lay scattered at wide intervals upon the banks of the great river, and which were the last links that bound them to such civilization as the wilds of Africa could show. Max had already gained much experience of life in the wilds of tropical Africa. This was not the first time that he had found himself obliged to sleep upon the ground, without pillow or blankets, or that which was still more necessary--a mosquito-net.

When he opened his eyes it was daylight, and the first thing that he beheld was Captain Crouch, seated cross-legged at the fireside, with his pipe between his teeth. His one eye was fixed in the glowing embers.

He appeared to be deep in thought, for his face was all screwed up, and he never moved. Thin wreaths of smoke came from the bowl of his pipe, and the hut reeked of his foul tobacco. Suddenly he s.n.a.t.c.hed the pipe from his lips, and banged the bowl so viciously upon the heel of his boot that he broke it in twain. "I have it!" he cried. "I've got it!"

Max asked what was the matter.

"I've got an idea," said Crouch. "I'll make this fellow take us to the Hidden River, whether he wants to or not. They are frightened of these Fire-G.o.ds, are they! By Christopher, I'll make them more frightened of me, or my name was never Crouch!"

He got to his feet, and crossed the hut to M'Wane, who still lay asleep.

He seized the chief by the shoulders and shook him violently, until the man sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Your people," said he. "Big palaver. Now. Be quick."

M'Wane seemed to understand, for he got up and left the hut. Edward Harden was now awake.

The life that is lived by these Central African tribes finds a parallel in the ancient history of nearly all races that we know of. Government, for the most part, is in the hands of the headman of every village. The maintenance of law and order, the giving of wives, the exchange of possessions, is settled by "palaver," which amounts to a kind of meeting of the entire population, presided over by the chief. Near every village is a regular palaver-ground, usually in the shade of the largest tree in the neighbourhood.

It was here, on this early morning, that M'Wane summoned all the inhabitants of the village--men, women and children. They seated themselves upon the ground in a wide circle, in the midst of which was the trunk of a fallen tree. Upon this trunk the three Europeans seated themselves, Crouch in the middle, with his companions on either side.

When all was ready, M'Wane rose to his feet, and announced in stentorian tones that the little white man desired to speak to them, and that they must listen attentively to what he had to say. Whereupon Crouch got to his feet, and from that moment onward--in the parlance of the theatre--held the stage: the whole scene was his. He talked for nearly an hour, and during that time never an eye was shifted from his face, except when he called attention to the parrot.

He was wonderful to watch. He shouted, he gesticulated, he even danced.

In face of his limited vocabulary, it is a wonder how he made himself understood; but he did. He was perfectly honest from the start.

Perhaps his experience had taught him that it is best to be honest with savages, as it is with horses and dogs. He said that he had made his way up the Kasai in order to penetrate to the upper reaches of the Hidden River. He said that he had heard of the Fire-G.o.ds, and he was determined to find out who they were. For himself, he believed that the Fire-G.o.ds were masters of some kind of witchcraft. It would be madness to fight them with spears and bows and arrows. He believed, from what he had heard, that even his own rifle would be impotent. High on a tree-top was perched a parrot, that preened its feathers in the sunlight, and chattered to itself. Crouch pointed this parrot out to the bewildered natives, and then, lifting his rifle to his shoulder, fired, and the bird fell dead to the ground. That was the power he possessed, he told them: he could strike at a distance, and he seldom failed to kill. And yet he dared not approach the Fire-G.o.ds, because they were masters of witchcraft. But he also knew the secrets of magic, and his magic was greater and more potent than the magic of the Fire-G.o.ds. He could not be killed; he was immortal. He was prepared to prove it. Whereat, he re-loaded his rifle, and deliberately fired a bullet through his foot.

The crowd rushed in upon him from all sides, stricken in amazement. But Crouch waved them back, and stepping up to Edward, told the Englishman to shoot again. Harden lifted his rifle to his shoulder, and sent a bullet into the ankle of Crouch's cork foot. Thereupon, Crouch danced round the ring of natives, shouting wildly, springing into the air, proving to all who might behold that he was a thousand times alive.

They fell down upon their faces and worshipped him as a G.o.d. Without doubt he had spoken true: he was invulnerable, immortal, a witch-doctor of unheard-of powers.

But Crouch had not yet done. Before they had time to recover from their amazement, he had s.n.a.t.c.hed out his gla.s.s eye, and thrust it into the hands of M'Wane himself, who dropped it like a living coal. They rushed to it, and looked at it, but dared not touch it. And when they looked up, Crouch had another eye in the socket--an eye that was flaming red.

A loud moan arose from every hand--a moan which gave expression to their mingled feelings of bewilderment, reverence and fear. From that moment Crouch was "the White Wizard," greater even than the Fire-G.o.ds, as the glory of the sun outstrips the moon.

"And now," cried Crouch, lifting his hands in the air, "will you, or will you not, guide me to the Hidden River where the Fire-G.o.ds live?"

M'Wane came forward and prostrated himself upon the ground.

"The White Wizard," said he, "has only to command."

CHAPTER IV--THE HIDDEN RIVER

It is not necessary to describe in detail the pa.s.sage up the Kasai, from the place where the leopard had been wounded to Date Palm Island, which was where M'Wane decided to disembark. During that voyage, which occupied two and a half days, they pa.s.sed a mangrove swamp upon the southern bank, which the Fan chief pointed out as the place where the Hidden River joined the Kasai.

No one would have guessed it. The short, stunted trees were packed so close together that their branches formed a kind of solid roof which appeared to extend for miles. Underneath, there was darkness as of night. There was nothing to suggest that another river here joined the larger stream. The Kasai did not narrow above the swamp, nor was there any change in the colour of the water or the strength of the current.

Date Palm Island lay a day's journey by canoe above the mangrove swamp.

The name of Date Palm Island was given by Edward Harden the moment he set eyes upon the little rocky islet in mid-stream, upon which stood a solitary tree. It was the custom of this explorer to name the natural features he discovered; and it was he who was also responsible for the names of other places of which, in course of time, we shall have occasion to tell, such as Solitude Peak and Hippo Pool.

In addition to the Loango boys who composed the crews, the party now included M'Wane, the Fan chief, and four of his most trusted warriors.

It was on the occasion of this journey on the Upper Kasai that Edward Harden made one of the mistakes of his life. M'Wane travelled in the first canoe with themselves, and his four warriors in the other canoe which followed. Both Harden and Crouch had a natural wish to keep the object of their journey a secret. Neither knew that one of the boys in the second canoe could both speak and understand the Fan dialect, and it was he who told his companions that the Hidden River was their destination. Still, no one suspected that the secret was out, until they had unloaded all their supplies and ammunition at Date Palm Island, where they decided to form their base.

In this district, the general course of the Kasai lies due south-west.

From the mangrove swamp on the southern bank, the valley of the Hidden River lies, more or less, in a direct line from north to south. M'Wane had known the Hidden River in the old days, before the Fire-G.o.ds came into the country. He said that there was a good portage across country from Date Palm Island to Hippo Pool, which was the nearest accessible point on the Hidden River above the rapids that flowed through the Long Ravine.

They decided to leave one canoe on the island, in charge of four of the Loango boys. The remaining natives could be employed in carrying the lighter of the two canoes, and a sufficiency of stores and ammunition across country to the Hidden River. The indignation of Crouch may be imagined when the boys struck in a body and refused to undertake the portage.

Edward used his greatest powers of persuasion; Crouch threatened and abused. They answered that word of the Fire-G.o.ds had been carried even as far as the Coast, that they had never bargained to sell their lives to the Englishmen. None the less, they expressed their willingness to remain upon the island until the party returned.

Crouch turned to M'Wane.