Dead Man's Land: Being the Voyage to Zimbambangwe of certain and uncertain blacks and whitesFenn, George Manville
General
Dead Man's Land: Being the Voyage to Zimbambangwe of certain and uncertain blacks and whites
Fenn, George Manville
Africa -- Fiction; Hunting stories; Travel -- Fiction
But he was wrong, for without a moment's hesitation their guide dashed
into the dark cover, while the boys stopped short on coming up to the
spot where he had disappeared.
They looked round, but Sir James and the doctor were out of sight. They
found too that they had left the waggons behind.
"Hadn't we better turn back?" said Dean.
"Well, I half think so," replied his cousin, "but I should like to have
a look at that chap. He was quite a little boy. I say, if we stop here
Mak will start him again directly, and then we can take him prisoner."
"What for?" asked Dean. "We don't want to take prisoners."
"I don't know, but I suppose Mak wants to catch him for some reason, to
ask the road, perhaps. Here, come on."
"Oh, I don't know," replied Dean. "See how thick the trees are."
"Yes, it is pretty dark," said Mark. "But we are not afraid of that."
"No, but if we go in there we are sure to lose our way."
"Very well, Miss Timidity, let's lose it. It will be another job for
Mak to find us again."
"I am no more timid than you are," said Dean coolly. "Come along;" and
stepping quickly before his cousin he plunged directly between two huge
trees whose branches on their side thickly interlaced and came close
down to the ground, while as soon as they had passed them it was to find
themselves confronted by tall columns standing as thickly as they could,
bare of trunk and branchless till about sixty or seventy feet above
their heads, where verdant roof was formed which completely shut off the
light save where here and there a thin streak or two of sunshine shot
down like an arrow, to form a little golden patch upon the floor of
withered leaves.
"What a change!" cried Mark, as the pair stopped short, trying to
penetrate the darkness; but this they found was impossible save in the
direction from which they had come.
"Isn't it strange?" said Dean, after walking in and out amongst the
trees for some twenty yards.
"Strange, yes," replied Mark. "Why, it wants a couple of hours to
mid-day, and we might fancy that it only wanted a couple of hours to
midnight. Well, let's go a little farther."
"Very well," replied Dean, stepping out; "but we could not see Mak if he
was close at hand."
"No, but we shall hear him directly. He will try to cooey, and he will
as soon as he has caught the little black chap. I say, didn't he
scuttle along just like a rabbit!"
"Yes, but I say, let's keep together, for I am sure we shall lose
ourselves directly."
"Oh, we shan't lose ourselves; but let's keep on quite straight."
"How are we to keep on quite straight when we can't get along without
winding in and out?"
"That's true," said Mark; "but I say, do took upward! What trees! What
a height! Just stand still and listen for a minute or two. We may get
a shot at some beautiful bird such as we have never seen before."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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