Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Bunyip Land: A Story of Adventure in New Guinea > This page
Bunyip Land: A Story of Adventure in New Guinea, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 30. How I Talked With My New Friend |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER THIRTY. HOW I TALKED WITH MY NEW FRIEND As I heard the sound of the pursuit a horrible sensation of dread came over me. I felt that we must be taken, and, in addition, vague ideas of trouble and bloodshed floated through my brain, with memories of the fight in the gorge, and I shuddered at the idea of there being more people slain. The effect was different upon Jimmy, the distant cries seeming to excite him. He stopped every now and then to jump from the ground and strike the nearest tree a tremendous blow with a waddy he had obtained from our guide. The latter checked him, though, laying a hand upon his arm as he said to me, after listening intently: "You don't want to fight. These people are too strong. You must escape." "But you will come with us?" I said once more, with the vague fancy coming back that this was he whom I sought, but terribly changed. He said something in reply in the savage tongue, stopped, and then went on. "I forget--I don't know. I am the doctor--a savage--what did you say?" "Come with us," I whispered, and he bent his head in the dark; but my words seemed to have no effect upon him, one idea seeming to be all that he could retain, for he hurried me on, grasping my arm tightly, and then loosed it and went on in front. Jimmy took his place, gripping my arm in turn, and, whispering, showed his power of observation by saying: "Much good him. No black fellow. Talk like Mass Joe some time. Jimmy tink um Mass Joe fader got dust in head. Don't know know." "Oh no! impossible, Jimmy," I whispered back with emotion. "It cannot be my father." "No fader? All um white fellow got mud mud in head. Can't see, can't know know. No Mass Joe fader?" "No, I am sure it is not." "Then um white fellow. No black fellow. Tupid tupid. Don't know at all. No find wallaby in hole. No find honey. No kedge fis. Tupid white fellow all a same, mud in um head." "He seems strange in his head," I said. "Yes. Iss mad mad. No wash um head clean. Can't tink straight up an down ums like Jimmy." "But he is saving us," I said. "Taking us to our friends." "Jimmy no know. Jimmy tink doctor somewhere right long--big hill. Gib black white fellow topper topper make um tink more." "No, no," I whispered, for he had grasped his waddy and was about to clear our guide's misty brain in this rough-and-ready way. "Be quiet and follow him." Just then our guide stopped and let me go to his side. "Fever--my head," he said softly, and as if apologising. "Can't think." "But you will come with us?" I said. "My friend the doctor will help you. You shall help us. You must not go back to that degraded life." "Doctor!" he said, as if he had only caught that word. "Yes, the doctor. Can't leave the people--can't leave him." "Him!" I said; "that boy?" "Hush! come faster." For there were shouts and cries behind, and he hurried us along for some distance, talking rapidly to me all the while in the savages' tongue, and apparently under the impression that I understood every word, though it was only now and then that I caught his meaning, and then it was because they were English words. After catching a few of these I became aware, or rather guessed, that he was telling me the story of his captivity among these people, and I tried eagerly to get him to speak English; but he did not seem to heed me, going on rapidly, and apparently bent on getting us away. I caught such words as "fever--prisoner--my head--years--misery-- despair--always--savage--doctor"--but only in the midst of a long excited account which he said more to himself. I was at last paying little heed to him when two words stood out clear and distinctly from the darkness of his savage speech, words that sent a spasm through me and made me catch at his arm and try to speak, but only to emit a few gasping utterances as he bent down to me staring as if in wonder. The words were "fellow-prisoner;" and they made me stop short, for I felt that I had really and providentially hit upon the right place after all, and that there could be only one man likely to be a fellow-prisoner, and that--my poor father. It was impossible to flee farther, I felt, and leave him whom I had come to seek behind. Then common sense stepped in and made me know that it was folly to stay, while Jimmy supplemented these thoughts by saying: "Black fellow come along fas. Mass Joe no gun, no powder pop, no chopper, no knife, no fight works 'tall." "Where is he?" I said excitedly, as I held the arm of our guide. "Blacks--coming after us." He talked on rapidly in the savage tongue and I uttered a groan of despair. "What um say, Mass Joe?" whispered Jimmy excitedly. "Talk, talk, poll parrot can't say know what um say. Come along run way fas. Fight nunner time o," he added. "Black fellow come along." He caught my arm, and, following our guide, we hurried on through the darkness, which was so dense that if it had not been for the wonderful eyesight of my black companion--a faculty which seemed to have been acquired or shared by our guide--I should have struck full against the trunk of some tree. As it was, I met with a few unpleasant blows on arm or shoulder, though the excitement of our flight was too great for me to heed them then. I was in despair, and torn by conflicting emotions: joy at escaping and at having reached the goal I had set up, misery at having to leave it behind just when I had found the light. It might have been foolish, seeing how much better I could serve him by being free, but I felt ready to hurry back and share my father's captivity, for I felt assured that it must be he of whom our guide spoke. We were hurrying on all this time entirely under the guidance of the strange being who had set us free, but not without protests from the black, who was growing jealous of our guide and who kept on whispering: "No go no farrer, Mass Joe, Jimmy fine a doctor an Mass Jack Penny. Hi come along Jimmy now." He was just repeating this in my ear when we were hurrying on faster, for the sounds of our pursuers came clear upon the wind, when our guide stopped short and fell back a few paces as a low angry growl saluted him from the darkness in front and he said something sharply to us in the native tongue. His words evidently meant "Fall back!" but I had recognised that growl. "Gyp!" I cried; and the growling changed to a whining cry of joy, and in an instant the dog was leaping up at my face, playfully biting at my hands, and then darting at Jimmy he began the same welcoming demonstrations upon the black. "Mass Joe, Mass Joe, he go eat up black fellow. Top um away, top um away." "It's only his play, Jimmy," I said. "Him eat piece Jimmy, all up leggum," cried the black. "Here, Gyp!" I cried, as the dog stopped his whining cry of pleasure, but growled once more. "Here," I said, "this is a friend. Pat his head, sir, and--, where is he, Jimmy?" "Black white fellow, Mass Joe?" "Yes, yes, where is he?" "Gone 'long uder way. Run back fas fas. Fraid o Gyp, Gyp send um way." "Stop him! Run after him! He must not go," I cried. I stopped, for there was a low piping whistle like the cry of a Blue Mountain parrot back at home. "Jack Penny!" I gasped, and I answered the call. "Iss, yes, Mass Jack Penny," cried Jimmy, and Gyp made a bound from my side into the darkness, leaving us alone. We heard the crash and rustle of the underwood as the dog tore off, and I was about to follow, but I could not stir, feeling that if I waited our guide might return, when, in the midst of my indecision, the whistle was repeated, and this time Jimmy answered. Then there was more rustling, the dog came panting back; and as the rustling continued there came out of the darkness a sound that made my heart leap. It was only my name softly uttered, apparently close at hand, and I made a bound in the direction, but only to fall back half-stunned, for I had struck myself full against a tree. I just remember falling and being caught by some one, and then I felt sick, and the darkness seemed filled with lights. But these soon died out, and I was listening to a familiar voice that came, it appeared, from a long way off; then it came nearer and nearer, and the words seemed to be breathed upon my face. "Only a bit stunned," it said; and then I gasped out the one word: "Doctor!" "My dear Joe!" came back, and--well, it was in the dark, and we were not ashamed: the doctor hugged me to his heart, as if I had been his brother whom he had found. _ |
||