CHAPTER VI.

The war cries, shouts, and the groans of the wounded were also distinctly heard by us. The Domondoos express their sufferings by the cry _Aou! Aou!_ or, if their agony is extreme, by _Akonn! Akonn!_ The Monbuttoo expression, on the contrary, is _Nanegoué! Nanegoué!_

"You see, my dear Périères," said de Morin, "that we were quite right to leave the pit of the theatre and take our places in the stalls; we are gaining instruction. These cries teach us that every nation expresses suffering in a different way. The French people say—_Aïe! Aïe! Oh! la! la!_ The English call out—_Oh! oh! oh!_ The Germans— _Och! och! och!_ The Bungos—_Aah!_ The Djours—_Aooay!_ As for the Monbuttoos, you can hear what they say, and I am free to confess that the fools cry out loud enough."

"These remarks," chimed in Delange, who, even when he was joking, maintained his customary air of gravity, "are of immense interest to science, and we shall have deserved well of all the learned societies in the world. And to think that those miserable Parisians, with easy consciences and minds at rest, are at this moment strolling on the beach at Dieppe and Trouville without giving a thought to the fact that they are ignorant of the cry of a Monbutto in pain!"

"Too true!" added de Morin. "They have not even a suspicion that such beings as the Monbuttoos exist."

"Is it possible? Poor creatures, how deeply they are to be pitied!"

We had reached the spot we intended to occupy—a little hillock, very conspicuous, without shelter of any kind, and equidistant from the troops of Munza and the hostile force. We seated ourselves on the grass, which at this precise place was not more than a foot high, and Delange, taking two packs of cards out of his pocket, said to de Morin—

"Let us cut for deal."

We were not exposed over-much to the sun, for, as my two companions had foreseen, the continuous flights of arrows from the two armies darkened the sky. It was slightly warm, and that was all.

The game commenced, and was played with the utmost seriousness. De Morin was, perhaps, less interested than his adversary, but as the stakes were rather high, and losing or winning them meant an entire change in the state of affairs, with a possibility of his no longer playing on velvet, as the saying goes, he was tolerably careful in his play. As regards Delange, the prospect of at last getting rid of a debt which had for so long been tormenting him, and the idea that very soon he might be a creditor in his turn, raised his excitement to a very high pitch, though he played his best and was thoroughly self-possessed.

Whilst these two were absorbed in their game, I lay at full length on the grass and watched the progress of the fray. The Monbuttoos, seeing us advancing towards the field of battle, naturally thought we were going to help them, and received us with uproarious shouts. But, when they saw us come to a halt, sit down, take little pictures out of our pockets, and shuffle them in our hands, they were dumbfounded. Munza alone, perhaps, was capable of appreciating our idea; he understood, as we found out later on, that, though we were determined not to fight, we did not intend to shirk our share of danger. However, if the motive by which we were actuated escaped the mass of the people, they recognized the one fact before their eyes—in the situation occupied by us, of our own free will, we were exposed to the missiles of both armies. Instinctively they admired our courage and coolness, and as soon as they saw that the arrows did not hit us, they thought we were invulnerable, and we must have risen proportionately in their esteem.

The Domondoos, on their side, were alarmed by the sudden apparition of three white men, clothed in a strange garb, and advancing quietly in the open. If they had been gifted with any religious feeling, they might have taken us for celestial beings, a trio of angels descended from the clouds, to watch over the struggles of man. But, without having such an exalted opinion of us, they, possibly, imagined that we had come up from below to protect them. When they perceived that, instead of spreading our wings over their army, we were simply minding our own business—lying down on the grass, and turning our backs upon them, they were excessively dissatisfied, and set to work to insult us. Some of them indulged in threatening gestures, others, shouting their war cry, and bounding from one side to the other, as if they were taking part in a pantomime, came close up to us and assailed us with volleys of invective.

A flight of arrows, winged, no doubt, by Munza's orders, compelled them to retire, and from that moment we heard nothing but the whizzing of the shafts, and the unceasing din of the battle.

"One game to me," said Delange.

"So much the better," replied de Morin. "I shall win the second, and then we can play the conqueror."

"Pending which, I mark the king," rejoined the doctor.

"Mark away, but excuse me for one moment whilst I glance at this arrow which just missed my back."

He put out his hand and, without getting up, pulled the impertinent missile out of the ground.

"Look," continued de Morin, turning to me, "the shaft is feathered with the leaves of the banana tree."

"To increase its velocity," remarked Delange, as he shuffled the cards. "Is the point iron or wood?"

"Iron."

"That is bad; I do not like that, the wound is so much more difficult to cure."

"See," said de Morin, handing the arrow to the doctor. "It seems as if the point were smeared with some gummy substance."

"So it is, my dear fellow; there is no doubt about that, any more than that the substance is poison."

"Poison? Brr! as Munza says, that sounds nasty."

"Don't be uneasy," replied the doctor. "If you are wounded by one of these engines of war, I will wash the wound with a preparation I have, and you may, possibly, get over it. Cards?"

"No, thanks. I play."

The arrows whizzed by incessantly in a perfect deluge, and as I saw numbers of them falling all around us, I could not help thinking of the description given by Schweinfurth of his fight with the Niam-Niam, where he says that "the storm of arrows which they hurled against us as we advanced fell like strays from a waggon-load of straw."

At the same time the war cries, the yelling, the groans of the wounded and dying, the braying of trumpets, and rolling of drums, were mingled in one confused, deafening din, slightly trying to the nerves of peaceable écarté players.

Suddenly, at the very height of the uproar, profound silence fell on the host of the Monbuttoos, whilst cries of joy and triumph might be heard from the ranks of the hostile army. Something serious had evidently happened. I took up my telescope, steadied it on the shoulder of the doctor, who, more and more absorbed in his game, did not even know that I was using him as a rest, and looked towards the Monbuttoos.

"Munza is wounded!" I exclaimed.

"Ah!" said de Morin.

"Ah!" echoed Delange. "I score one. We are four all."

"Are you not going to offer your services to the wounded man?" I asked.

"Certainly; that is my intention. I know my duty. But on the cards which de Morin is dealing hangs my fate. If they are good, I shall win the second game, and, consequently, the rubber. Munza will not die from the momentary delay."

He took the five cards which his adversary had just laid tenderly on the grass, looked at him, and said—

"I play."

"Play," said de Morin, with a smile, as if he were sure of the game.

For a moment I forgot all about the King of the Monbuttoos in my interest in his hand, which might possibly be a decisive one. It was not so. De Morin, thanks to a wretched little trump, made the third trick and went out. They were consequently game and game, and had to play the conqueror.

"I must go and attend to the King's wound," said the doctor, laying hold of his instrument case, which he had taken care to bring with him.

"Shall I come with you?" asked de Morin.

"There is no necessity for that," replied Delange, as he went away. "I shall be back directly. Take care of the cards, whatever you do, and keep them out of harm's way."

"I will cover them with my body!" exclaimed de Morin.

The doctor, in a hurry to get back and finish the rubber, strode along rapidly towards the Monbuttoos. I went after him, thinking that I might be of some use, and, as I felt sure that nobody would ask me to show my commission or diploma, I at once conferred upon myself the rank of staff-surgeon of the second class.

Munza's officers, when they saw Delange, the white sorcerer, as they called him, coming towards them, ran to meet him and brought him to the spot where their leader lay, to the great dismay of the official sorcerers, whose position we were, without any ceremony, going to usurp. The King was resting on a shield and, in marked contrast to his followers, who were indulging in an incessant chorus of _Nanegoué! Nanegoué!_ allowed no sign of suffering to escape him. He welcomed Delange with a smile, and made a sign with his hand that everybody else should withdraw.

The doctor stooped down and found that the King was suffering from an arrow wound in the thigh. The iron head was still in the wound, none of the negro sorcerers having even attempted to extract it. This operation, as a rule, is not a very difficult one; they seize the shaft of the arrow with both hands, and tug away until it chooses to come out. But by a very ingenious device, the Domondoos manufacture their missiles in such a way that they break at the moment of impact, the head remaining in the wound, and the shaft falling to the ground. The operator has, therefore nothing to catch hold of, and when that functionary happens to be a negro sorcerer, he howls, tears his hair, and does nothing else.

Delange, without a moment's hesitation, opened his case, and, taking out one of those horrible little instruments which always cause a shudder, proceeded to make a large incision in the royal thigh, and with his forceps extracted the iron barb. This operation was performed without a sound from Munza, and the doctor then washed the wound, stanched the blood, bound up the thigh, examined the general state of his patient, put his implements of torture back into their case, shook the hand held out to him by the wounded man in token of gratitude, and made his way back again through the midst of the army.

He had done this all himself, like photographers do, and, no doubt jealous of me, had not even condescended to give me the lint to hold. Nevertheless, I thought I might as well go back with him, and in a few moments we had rejoined de Morin, who, during our absence, had been amusing himself by making a collection of the arrows which were falling around him, and had already possessed himself of a decent-sized bundle.

"Now for the conqueror," said the doctor, as he took his place opposite his adversary.