In the Depths of the Dark Continent: or, The Vengeance of Van Vincent

CHAPTER X.
DOWN THE RIVER

As Van Vincent fell from his horse his companions immediately dismounted and rushed to his side.

But before they reached him he was upon his feet, though he appeared to be somewhat dazed.

It was Doc Clancy who fired the shot, but, instead of killing our hero, the bullet merely grazed the side of his head, momentarily stunning him.

As soon as he saw that Van was not killed, Lank Edwards leveled his rifle at the raft and pulled the trigger.

But the bullet flew wide of the mark, owing to the fact of his being a poor marksman, and the distance being rather great.

The current must have been running pretty strong, for the raft was fast leaving them, and as the two villains had sought seclusion behind a huge log, it was impossible to get another shot at them.

"We must follow them," exclaimed our hero, who had now recovered the full use of his senses.

"How are we a-goin' ter, I'd like ter know?" returned the mate.

"There are similar rafts of logs here, are there not?"

"That's so," spoke up Jack Howard. "We'll board this big one right here, and then push her off and go shooting down the river after those fellows."

The raft he indicated was about eighty feet long by thirty in width, and it was lashed together so firmly that they saw their horses could be taken upon it with the greatest of safety.

With our friends it was no sooner said than done.

The next moment they were leading their horses upon the logs, and Van and Jack got ready to sever the vines that held the raft to the shore.

There were several long poles, as well as some short pieces of timber, lying upon it, and seizing a couple of the poles, they pushed off toward the center of the stream.

Ten minutes later they were drifting rapidly along with the current in the wake of Doc Clancy, who was now over half a mile ahead of them.

Van and Jack proceeded to steer the huge craft, while their companions undertook the task of rolling the loose logs into a pile on either side, to serve as a cover against the possible attack from any persons on either shore.

They knew there must be human beings in the vicinity, or they would never have found the rafts as they were.

"I wonder what river this is?" remarked Jack Howard. "With the exception of ourselves and the two ahead of us, I believe we are the only civilized people who have ever floated upon its waters."

"I am perfectly satisfied on that point," returned Prof. Drearland. "Suppose we name it after you, Jack?"

"That's it," echoed Van. "Call it Howard River."

The rest of the party agreed to this, so the stream was named, as far as our friends were concerned.

Rifles in hand, the floating party kept a good watch on either shore.

As they reached a bend, round which the other raft had disappeared, they were suddenly startled by hearing a loud trumpeting noise.

At first they thought it was a company of soldiers they were approaching, but a moment's study told them that such a thing was utterly out of the question.

"I know what caused that noise," said Joe, who had been listening attentively. "It was made by a herd of elephants; I have heard them before."

"Gracious! you don't say so!" exclaimed the professor, with a look of alarm on his face. "You don't think there is any danger of their swimming out and attacking us, do you?"

"You can't tell what might happen, old man," spoke up Jack Howard, in a serious tone. "You'd better have your rifle ready."

As if to verify his words, a violent crashing was heard in the underbrush that lined the shore at that point, and the next moment a herd of eight elephants suddenly appeared and entered the water.

"If we don't want them to bother us, the best thing for us to do is to remain perfectly quiet," said Van.

"That is it," returned Joe.

The huge animals had evidently come to the river for the purpose of taking a bath, for they merely waded off a few feet and then proceeded to enjoy themselves after their own fashion.

They did not appear to notice the raft at all, and soon they were lost to sight as our friends drifted around a bend.

Prof. Drearland drew a long breath of relief. He evidently was very much afraid of the elephants.

When the raft had drifted perhaps five miles down the river the sight of cultivated fields met the eyes of our friends.

While they were speculating as to what would be the next thing to turn up they were startled to hear the reports of firearms down the river.

"That is Doc Clancy, I'll wager!" exclaimed Van. "Some of the natives have attacked the raft."

"You are right," returned Jack. "Now we must look out for squalls."

The further they drifted the narrower the stream became, while the current kept on increasing in force.

The mass of timber was now floating along at the rate of at least ten miles an hour.

Presently the explorers came in sight of a large village of log houses, situated near the river bank.

Hundreds of white people could be seen about the vicinity, and our friends at once concluded that this was the nation to whom the Amazons belonged.

Van caused their horses to lie down on the logs, and then all hands dropped from sight behind the timbers that had been piled up for that purpose.

A crowd of the natives were already at the edge of the water, and by their actions they seemed to be in a great state of excitement.

As our friends rapidly neared them, a shout went up from the crowd, and they proceeded to push off a number of canoes.

The next minute fully a dozen were making for the raft.

The natives were armed with spears and ugly-looking knives, so our friends thought it best not to allow them to land upon the raft.

As the foremost canoe neared them, Jack Howard fired a shot from his rifle, taking a lock of hair from the head of one of the men.

In an instant a wild howl went up from the occupants of the canoes and those on the shore.

The rifle shot was evidently too much for them to understand, since they were unable to see our friends.

The canoes put back for shore with all possible speed.

"I guess they won't trouble us much," remarked our hero. "But I believe we are drifting into danger, for all that."

"Why so?" asked Dr. Pestle.

"Because the way this current runs leads me to believe that there must be a falls close by."

"Then we'd better get ashore," remarked Lank Edwards.

"If we do that we will get into trouble. See! both sides of the river are lined with the white savages."

"Well," said Van, after a pause, "I think we had better stick to the raft as long as it holds together under us."

Our hero's words seemed to satisfy all hands, so they settled down and watched the shore, which was flitting by them so rapidly.

In half an hour the country no longer looked as though it was inhabited.

The scene was now one of wild grandeur – sublime and picturesque.

The stream had narrowed down to twice the width of the raft, and our friends knew that it was only a question of a short time before it would strike the shore and be split asunder.

Yet they dared not leave it. To trust themselves in the boiling, surging waters which were now running with the speed of a race horse, meant nothing but death itself.

With pale faces the little party waited.

Fifteen minutes later they saw that their journey upon the raft of logs was about ended.

About two hundred yards ahead of them the stream was so narrow that the raft would not be able to get through in its present shape.

"Mount your horses and make for the stern!" exclaimed Van. "We must take to the water now, and we will stand more show with the animals than without them."

CHAPTER XI.
THE DWARFS

As Van Vincent spoke he seized the bridle rein of his horse and started for the rear end of the raft.

His companions quickly followed his example, and in an exceedingly short space of time all had sprung upon the backs of their horses.

By the time they had done so the foremost part of the raft was within a few feet of striking a rocky point of land.

There was not a moment to be lost.

Splash, splash, splash, splash, splash, splash!

One after another the horses leaped into the foaming water.

As Van rose to the surface on the back of his steed, he at once urged the animal toward the nearest shore, which was not over twenty yards distant.

He had scarcely done so when he heard a grinding crash, followed immediately by a roar that was deafening.

The timber raft was bent and twisted in a hundred different shapes, and then for a moment became wedged in the narrow gut through which the turbulent water flowed.

This one thing saved the lives of our friends.

The tangled mass of logs stayed the current for an instant, and the water became almost still.

With mighty efforts the horses swam for the shore, reaching it just as the improvised dam gave way with a loud crash.

With a feeling of mute thankfulness, Van and his companions fell upon the necks of their faithful animals.

Their escape from a certain death seemed nothing short of a miracle.

For several minutes they stood upon the river bank, gazing at the roaring flood before them.

As it was near nightfall, Van suggested that they find a suitable spot to pitch their camp for the night, and start a fire to dry their wet clothing.

Following the course of the turbulent stream, they started forward at a quick trot.

In a few minutes they reached the crest of a monster waterfall, which went dashing fully three hundred feet to a bleak-looking valley below.

In the center of the valley was a smooth sheet of water, which was now filled with the logs that had formed their raft a short time before.

"I guess there is no use of following Doc Clancy any further," observed Jack Howard. "If he went over that falls it was the last of him."

"Maybe he didn't go over," returned Van. "We didn't, you know."

"I don't think he did, unless he bears a charmed life," exclaimed Joe. "Look down there!"

The boy pointed to the valley below.

All hands instantly turned their gaze in the direction indicated.

They beheld Doc Clancy and his companion coolly riding through the valley, with their horses on a slow walk, as though nothing had happened.

"Well, that beats me!" said Lank Edwards. "What'll we do now?"

"Why, go down there, of course," returned our hero, promptly. "Here is a footpath, and – by Jove! here are the hoof prints of the two villains' horses. Come on."

As Van seemed to be the recognized leader of the party, his friends promptly followed him.

The path they started to descend was a rather steep one, but by good management they succeeded in getting to the level country below in safety.

By the time they arrived at the foot of the falls, the two men they were following had disappeared around a projection of land.

But the trail was as plain as the nose on a person's face, and, urging their horses into a brisk canter, our friends started in pursuit.

The noise of the falling water was so great that the thud of the horse's hoofs could not be heard; and they expected to overtake Clancy in very short order.

The sun had now disappeared below the horizon, and it was growing dark rapidly, but they could still see the trail very plainly.

However, in less than five minutes, it was lost altogether, owing to the fact that the pathway was now of solid rock.

But, weapons in hand, the six bold adventurers kept on, expecting every minute to find soft earth once more.

Suddenly a wild, unearthly noise rang out, which sounded like the barking of a thousand dogs.

Joe's horse shied and collided with the animal ridden by Jack Howard. The consequence was that both riders were thrown to the ground in a confused heap.

Before the rest of the party could comprehend what had happened, a veritable swarm of dwarfish figures burst from the cover of the adjacent rocks and rushed upon them.

Jack Howard and Joe were instantly seized by the curious beings, and then, as if by magic, the whole crowd disappeared.

Meanwhile, Van and the rest of his companions had been carried several yards from the spot by their frightened horses.

So suddenly had the whole thing occurred that they were not aware of the fact that Jack and Joe were missing until they beheld their two riderless steeds galloping madly from the spot.

"What in thunderation has happened, anyhow?" gasped Lank Edwards, gazing about him in dumfounded amazement.

"The Lord only knows!" returned Prof. Drearland, who was thoroughly frightened.

It was now so dark they were unable to distinguish objects at a distance greater than a dozen yards, and the four remaining ones in the party were at a complete loss as to what course to pursue.

"Well," remarked Van, at length, when they came to a halt about a hundred yards from the spot where the dwarfs had sprung upon them, "we must make an effort to find Jack and Joe. There must certainly be some opening around here somewhere, where those little savages went in."

"That is certainly so," spoke up Dr. Pestle.

Our hero now dismounted and began searching about the place where the dwarfs had disappeared.

Almost immediately he discovered a long, narrow rift which extended into the side of a hill that formed one of the boundaries of the valley.

"Here is where they went!" he exclaimed, in an excited manner. "Come on, now; we must rescue Jack and Joe!"

"What are we going to do with the horses?" asked the professor.

"Hobble them so they can't stray far away," was the reply. "Hurry up, now."

In less than two minutes this was done, and all four were ready to enter the opening.

With Van at their head they pushed inside.

It was as dark as the grave itself, and they felt the need of a torch to light them on their way through the unknown place.

Dr. Pestle had enough oil left in a bottle to saturate a piece of his coat, and when this was twisted into a compact mass it was lighted.

The doctor walked by the side of Van, with his improvised torch, which served its purpose well enough.

When they had traversed a distance of probably two hundred yards, they found they did not need any light.

Before them they beheld a vast cavern of a circular shape.

In many places upon the ground small fires were burning, and these furnished enough light for them to see where they were going. Around the fires could be seen groups of the dwarfs, who were, by the way, the strangest people any of our friends had ever seen.

They wore short skirts, which seemed to be made of some sort of leather, the rest of their bodies being bare.

The tallest of them could not have been over three feet six inches in height, but they seemed to be very powerful, for all that.

Bows and arrows and clubs were the only weapons they possessed, and as Van and his three companions gazed upon them from their point of observation, they reckoned that they could clean out the place if they tried very hard.

But they were doomed to be badly mistaken in their idea.

The dwarfs, who were a race of cave dwellers, supposed by the world at large to be extinct, were about as bloodthirsty and determined as any savage who ever drew the breath of life.

Van had just suggested that they move forward to try and find their two missing friends, when they were startled to hear the sound of footsteps approaching from the way they entered the place.

They had scarcely turned around when they beheld Doc Clancy and his partner running toward them with all their might, a perfect horde of the dwarfs at their heels.

CHAPTER XII.
A HORRIBLE FATE

We must now turn our attention to Jack Howard and the boy, Joe, and see what became of them.

The pair were half stunned from the fall from their horses, and before they could collect their scattered senses they had a vague idea of being picked up and carried away.

Jack was the first to recover the full use of his faculties, and when he did so he found himself in Stygian darkness.

A dozen pairs of arms were clasped about his body, it seemed, and he was being whisked swiftly along in a direction that was unknown to him.

Neither he nor Joe had as yet seen what sort of looking fellows their captors were, so, of course, they had not the remotest idea as to who were carrying them off.

Jack heard a series of doglike noises all around him, and he came to the conclusion that it must be a gang of some mysterious animals who were carrying him to their den.

The brave young Englishman determined to make a desperate effort to escape from them.

Exerting all his strength, he strove to free himself.

But he soon found it to be utterly useless. The more he struggled, the tighter the clutch became about his body.

And Joe! The delicate, little fellow was so badly frightened at his mysterious capture that he fainted.

In a very few minutes Jack beheld a light ahead of him, and in a short space of time he was able to see about him fairly well.

When he found that his captors were such little fellows, he again made a wild effort to free himself.

But, as before, it was of no avail.

Jack concluded not to waste his strength any further, but to wait for a more fitting opportunity.

About ten minutes after he reached this conclusion, the dwarfs came to a halt, and he was deposited upon the ground.

But before he was allowed to rise to his feet his hands were securely tied behind him.

Joe, who had not yet recovered from his faint, was also securely bound.

Jack found that he was in a small cave, which appeared to be situated in a vast cavern.

In front of its opening a fire was burning, and around this those who had brought him there were seated.

The young man soon saw that the cave was reserved solely for the use of Joe and himself, for the dwarfs all remained outside near the fire.

Knowing it was useless to attempt to escape, Jack sat down near the mouth of the cave and watched his captors to see what they were doing.

In a few minutes Joe came to himself, and crept to the side of his friend.

Jack explained their situation as best he could, and then said:

"There is one thing in our favor, and that is they haven't taken our weapons from us. I want you to crawl behind me, Joe, and see if you can't gnaw loose the bonds that hold my hands together. If you can do it I will set you free then; and we will then open fire on these little savages and run for it."

"All right," replied the boy, "I'll do my best."

He crept behind Jack and began the task allotted to him, which he found would be a difficult one, as the thongs which bound them were of leather.

Meanwhile the dwarfs, who had evidently been holding a consultation in regard to their prisoners, suddenly arose to their feet and began singing a weird chant in their queer language.

The moment they began it others came hurrying to the spot, and in five minutes' time it seemed as though there must be fully five hundred congregated about.

The noise they made was not so very loud, but it was mournful, and reminded Jack of the howling of a dog.

"What do you suppose they are making that awful noise for?" whispered Joe, resting from his gnawing task for a moment.

"I don't know," returned Jack, in his restless way, "unless they are singing our funeral hymn."

Joe made no reply, but again tackled the leather thongs with his sharp teeth.

He must have made an extraordinary effort, for in less than a minute Jack felt that his hands were free.

"Good!" he exclaimed. "Now, turn your back toward me, and I'll set you free in short order."

Carefully drawing his knife from his belt, he was as good as his word, and the next minute the two captives were standing upright in the cave with a revolver in either hand.

But the dwarfs paid no attention to them whatever. They still kept up their weird chant, and had now formed themselves into a procession and were marching about in every conceivable shape.

When the bulk of the crowd had moved a few yards from the mouth of the cave, Jack concluded it was time for them to step out.

"Come, Joe," said he, coolly; "we'll have to be going now. Our friends won't know what to make of our long absence."

Joe looked at his companion with a glance of admiration in his large eyes, and then followed him from the cave.

This seemed to be just exactly what the dwarfs wanted them to do, for the moment they stepped from the cave a double line on either side rushed up and completely surrounded them.

Both captives were too much surprised at the unexpected turn of affairs, and before they were scarcely aware of it they were tightly hemmed in like a wedge in a block.

Their arms were forced to their sides, though both still clutched their revolvers.

Jack had been in many a crowd in various cities throughout the world, but never had he been subjected to such a tight squeeze as the dwarfs forced him to undergo.

Joe, who was delicate, anyhow, was nearly crushed.

Presently the crowd began to move, and Jack and Joe were carried along without making a single effort.

Slowly they proceeded, and at length entered a dark passage.

"I say!" exclaimed Jack, "where are you taking us to, I'd like to know?"

The only reply he got was a fresh burst of the chant they had been singing, which sounded worse than ever in the narrow passage.

The two were forced along for perhaps a hundred feet in the same slow manner, and then a wild rush suddenly took place.

Pell-mell went the crowd of dwarfs, and, of course, Jack and Joe had to go with them.

The next thing Jack knew he felt himself going downward, and then he fetched up sprawling on a smooth, rocky floor.

The young Englishman was so badly dazed that it was a minute or two before he could arise to his feet.

He was in total darkness, and could not hear a sound beyond the beating of his heart, which was now throbbing away like a triphammer.

"Joe!" he called. "I say, Joe, where are you?"

But there was no response.

Jack now became very uneasy.

He was more frightened than he had ever been in his whole life before.

There was something so weird and mysterious about his situation that he was completely unnerved.

Suddenly it occurred to him to light a match.

With trembling hands he did so.

The first objects to meet his gaze were his revolvers lying at his feet.

He promptly picked them up and placed them in his belt.

"I wonder what has become of Joe?" he muttered. "Poor boy! I don't want to see any harm come to him, and I shan't, either, if I can help it. But this is enough to scare the life out of a little fellow like him. I wonder…"

At that instant a shrill scream rang out, and Jack started as though he had been shot.

Turning quickly, he held the still burning match in front of him, and beheld a startling, not to say horrible, sight.

Crawling over the ground, a few feet from him, was a monstrous creature resembling a crab!

But that was not the worst of it. Joe was gripped firmly in its huge claws.