"047 (B047) - Land of Long Ju Ju (1937-01) - Laurence Donovan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

"B'wana—B'wana
Renwick?" whispered the dying man. "It is good you come—Rag Udu—the king of Koko is going—"
The runner's head dropped. Renny quickly produced a small hypodermic syringe. In a few seconds, the man opened his eyes. Whispered speech came to his lips through bloody foam.
Renny held him in his arms. The words were partly English and partly a native patois.
"Yes?" he said, when the runner halted and choked. "King Udu wants the railroad? And what is this other?"
The runner could say only a few words. His speech ended. Renny pulled the chamma over the man's face.
"Doc's got to know about this," he said slowly to himself. "Come, Souho! Mapanda! We'll take the body to camp! He must be buried!"
Souho and Mapanda, Renny's head carrier, did not relish this task. Souho, the hunter, was a brave man. He had faced a man-eating simba, the great lion of the Taveta, with only his spear. But he carried the body of the dead runner as if it were some dangerous high explosive.
Equatorial night descended upon Renny's camp as they arrived with the body. Already the carrier boys had a great fire going.
The skin drums had never ceased talking. The throbbing was spaced between beats like dots and dashes of the regular Morse telegraph code.
The carriers were eating. Their meal was a delicacy with them. It consisted of elephant feet baked for two days in a hot pit.
"Hyrax no make much talk, B'wana Renwick," said Souho. "The spear is of Masai, b'wana. It means they make do war."
"Holy cow!" growled Renny. "And if they make do war, as you call it, they'll bust up the whole railroad scheme! Them Britishers won't back any steel into war country right now!"
The night was oppressive. There had been no visit of the small colobus monkeys. Renny had been on this railroad survey for nearly six weeks. The small monkeys had followed the camp.
Only an engineer of outstanding ability could have plotted the line of steel from Muoa Pemba, on the Indian Ocean south of Mobasi, through the Parri Mountains to the great Taveta country. The line was intended to open up the rich lands of the Kilimanjaro mountains.
Renny believed their camp was being closely watched. The silence of the hyrax and the absence of the monkeys in the dense jungle could mean only one thing. Many men must be close to the camp.
RENNY brought from his tent a huge square box. From this he produced a radio transmitter. The transmitter was one of Doc Savage's system. Its short wave made it possible for his men to reach him across many hundreds of miles.
Renny set the dials to the wave lengths employed by the Doc Savage group. Mapanda's black eyes glittered. To this native's mind, B'wana Renwick was a greater sorcerer than the most powerful Juju priests.
The generator started humming. Still the drums were talking.
Suddenly one of the carriers let out a wild screech. Others of the native boys threw aside their platters of elephant feet.
The screech became a death scream. A native boy arose. His bony body teetered back to its heels. He fell in the edge of the big fire. His flesh burned sickeningly.
The blade of a long spear stuck through the carrier's throat. Before Renny could get to his feet, two more native boys were impaled. The other carriers howled and dashed toward the denser jungle.
"Come back, you fools!" roared Renny. "Make cover here!"
Renny was whispering into his tent. Screams of agony came from the jungle. Souho, the hunter, threw himself flat on the ground. His hands had grabbed the most powerful gun.
This was a .450 Express, a British model. Souho exploded the big-game killer. But its high-velocity bullets only clipped leaves from the jungle where no one seemed to be moving.
Renny came out with a clumsy looking weapon. It was a superfire machine pistol, loaded with a drum of quick-firing bullets. The pistol made a noise like an immense bullfiddle. But its slugs only mowed a path a little to one side of where the carrier boys were running.
Perhaps most of the score of native boys had been killed. The others had slithered away. Renny muttered grimly.
"Holy cow!" boomed Renny. "If I could only get an eye on some of them devils!"
While the guns were whooping and banging, no more spears had fallen. If three boys had not been lying transfixed by the murderous blades, it would have seemed there had been no attack.
This was amazing. The tribal warriors usually accompany their attacks with much shouting.
Chapter II. WHITE MAN'S VOICE
ONLY Souho and Mapanda had remained with Renny. The big engineer ordered them behind the tents. A faint moaning came from the jungle bush.
Renny judged this must be one of his carrier boys. He was about to investigate, when Souho interfered.
"Masai make some trick, b'wana," he warned. "Him be Juju voice. Most good stay now."
Renny, always ready for an open scrap, was somewhat bewildered. He listened carefully. Souho's warning had been well judged. The moaning voice was not that of a man in pain.
Renny started to pull away the body of the dead carrier closest to the fire. A whistling wind fanned his head. A long spear, ornamented with red-dyed ostrich feathers, jammed its blade into the ground.
Around the haft of the spear a white paper was tied. Renny unrolled the white paper. There was a note printed in English:
COLONEL RENWICK MUST LEAVE THIS LAND AT ONCE. THE RAILROAD WILL NEVER BE BUILT. THIS WILL BE THE ONLY WARNING.
"So there is a white man mixed up in this," growled Renny. "That poor devil they got was right. This is something Doc must know at once!"
Renny whipped back toward his tent. He twisted the dials of the radio transmitter.
Possibly the leader of the natives concealed in the jungle had never seen a radio broadcast from so small an instrument. Renny started speaking. Almost at once, a low but penetrating voice replied.
"Doc speaking, Renny. I can hear you clearly."
The voice of Doc Savage never was raised. It had a peculiar timbre, a great carrying quality.
"Doc, there's trouble breaking over here!" boomed Renny. "The richest region in Central Africa is about to be invaded. King Udu of Kokoland sent six runners to me. Only one arrived, and he was dying."
Souho gripped Renny's arm. The hunter raised the heavy express rifle. He was pointing it at the thick foliage beyond the fire. More than leaves had suddenly appeared. Red ostrich plumes suddenly marked the green wall.
"Don't shoot!" snapped Renny, catching Souho's arm.
"Doc—I've gotta talk fast—I've been ordered out—this King Udu has a son, Prince Zaban, in New York—the kingdom is about to be overthrown!"
GUTTERAL, snarling cries came from the bush. A fantastic figure dressed in the hide and the mane of a lion, leaped into the circle of the fire. Souho's rifle exploded.
One of the red blotches came from the wall. A huge warrior with a red ostrich headdress slammed on his face.
"They're on top of us, Doc!" roared Renny. "King Udu has sent men to guard his son in New York—one of his former subjects lives there—he is called Logo—King Udu has sent him a—"