TALES OF ADVENTURE

Auckland Star, Volume LVII, Issue 25, 30 January 1926, Page 27

TALES OF ADVENTURE

LEFT BEHIND.

By EVE O'MAHONY.

What happened to a young white woman who was left behind by the mail train at a lonely wayside station in the heart of Rhodesia. A kindly rancher offered to drive her across the veldt in his car in an effort to evertake the train—and then her adventures began in real earnest!

The train was due out at 8 p.m., but the usual thing happened; no train ever seems to run to time on the Beira railway. We told there were three hours to wait. African nights, though beautiful, are intensely cold. Three hours, wi*' , no waiting room fire! It was all in the day's work, but I realised that Aunt Florence's temper would be worn pretty thin before we reached the end of it. Our berths were booked on the Braemar Castle, and the train we were catching was the southern mail to the Cape. If we missed it we should lose our precious berths and be compelled to wait another week for the next train. Such a possibility was not to be contemplated. We were going to catch that train, and so we took up our position on the little wayside platform precisely three hours before it was due. We were not taking any risks; it doesn"t do in a country where the arrival of a train is the one great social event of the week. At last it steamed in, in leisurely fashion, and the usual melee began, augmented by the raucous shouts of officials and natives. I wonder why natives always appear to be quarrelling with one another? Now Aunt Flo, I should explain. i« one of those amusing people who can't possibly travel without at least fifteen packages. Touring in Europe had cured mc of such follies, and I had nothing but a valise and one big trunk. With the help of three officials, the station-master, and several "boys" I was soon occupied in hoisting aboard the more important items of Aiint Flo's luggage. Dimly, in the half-light I saw my respected aunt board the car. and presently the train started, as I understood, to shunt, so I went off to check off some of the smaller eases and bundles. Suddenly there was a shout. It ! sounded like "Passenger left behind!" but I didn't take much notice, was searching for a missing trunk. Then I noticed one or two people looking at mc in a startled sort of way. and I glanced round. The train had vanished! The mail, with Aunt Florence aboard, had gone off and left mc in this lonely place with most of her luggage! Here was a pretty pickle! In my consternation I proceeded to abuse the etationmaster and the local magistrate, who happened to he on the platform. "What is the first stop?" I asked at last. "TJmtaki," replied the stationmaster, forlornly. "And it's a, night's journey away," he added. I thought of our precious berths; of the long week's ■waiting; of poor Aunt Florence's hysteria when she discovered mc and the luggage missing. She considered mc quite incapable of looking after myself on a bus trip from Victoria to Paddington, let alone out in the wilds. The station-master departed to make inquiries, but returned breathless and more forlorn than ever. "I have 'phoned down the line," he said with a despairing shrug, "but there is nothing that can be done." So that was that! I -was still hurling expletives at the African railways in general and stationmasters in particular, when an official volunteered some encouraging information. "She stops at Mwani, eighty miles on, to get water." he told mc. "Would you care to try to catch her in a car?" It was an idea; but where was I going to get a car in these wilds at this time of night? A lump rose in my throat and I had to swallow hard to keep my tears from giving mc away. It was then that "Billy" stepped into the breach. He had come in from his ranch to see a friend off to England, and was a typical Britisher of this part of the world. I wonder why all the very nicest Englishmen go and bury themselves in the wildnerness? But perhaps it is the wilderness that makes them so nice! "Billy," it appeared, had a car, and a native chauffeur, and at once offered to drive mc to my destination. He looked as if he would drive mc to Capetown just for the asking. I liked him. I liked the gleam of his white teeth in the half-light of the station platform. I liked his frank, open smile, and his kind blue eyes twinkling out from amongst the tiny ridges and furrows of his sun-tanned face. He raised his hat shyly. "Won't you make use of my car?" lie pleaded. I was in despair. I looked at the native driver, sitting dark and immovable on his seat. "The swiftest and surest chauffeur in Africa," said Billy, readinc my thoughts. ''But could I possibly overtake the mail?" I asked. He thought for a moment. ' "Yes; there's a chance," he said. "She stops at Mwani. and the road's not too bad. I'm willing to try, anyway." he added with a laugh. "Look here; I'll dispense with this Johnnie and drive you myself!" Here was a way out, and I jumped at it. My knight-errant looked as if he appreciated my grateful smile as I settled myself aboard the ear among the appalling jumble of luggage, the loss of which, plus mc, Aunt Florence was no doubt already bewailing in no measured tones. We set off at a great pace and for some time all went well. Twenty miles out, however, we struck an antheap, buckled the front wings, and dented the radiator somewhat. Billy was driving too fast on a road he did not know very well. It took us twenty minutes to get clear of that wretched ant-hill, and all the while my hopes were sinking, for twenty minutes is a long time when you are racing a train. ever, we got away at last, and after about four hours" steady driving, rounded a bend in the side of a small kopje, and with a wild view-halloa sighted the train. "Well do it!" shouted Billy, and settled down to drive with fresh rigour. We had talked very little beyond the exchange of a few conventional remarks, for it is not easy to converse when dashing along African tracks at forty-five miles an hour. Nearer and nearer came the streak of light that indicated the train, and faster and faster went the car, \

"We'll do it!" roared Billy again. I saw that bis lips were set grimly, and I looked at him admiringly. An then it happened! There was an awful bump, a great noise of scraping, a splash, and a muttered exclamation from Billy. A moment later the plunging car came to a standstill with a heavy list to one side. Jumping out, Billy speedily discovered that we had run into an elephant hole full of mud and water; nothing seemed to be broken, but the car had sunk in so deeply that' it could not possibly be moved. Something like a curse escaped the lips of my knight-errant, and I felt very much like swearing myself. He turned to mc with despair writ large on his face, shaking his head at the departing train. "There's no hope now, I'm afraid," he said. ''We're off the road; I must have lost the track some few miles back." "Can't we get help anywhere?" I asked, graspinir the steering-wheel helplessly. "Hopeless," lie replied; then, seeing the anxiety in my face as the mail swept pitifessly on into the distance, he added: "Perhaps we can find a farm somewhere.'' Just then a solitary native padded by in the gioom, and we asked him where we could get help. Eight miles j off, lie said. t'iere was a water station, i We might find some natives there, but he didtft seem any too sure about it. At that moment, however, we were willing to risk anything. ■'Can you walk it?" my companion asked, after the native had disappeared. '"I'll walk twenty." I replied. Then I noticed that Billy suddenly looked perplexed. He gazed at the car, then ahead of him, and finally searched the heavens as if seeking inspiration. I sensed the difficulty. We had no compass and it was pitch dark. If we both went, how could the car be found on our return! If the lights were left on all the time to act as a beacon they .vould probably burn out, yet without the lamps the car would be* undiscoverable. There was only one thing to be done: Billy must make the voyage of discovery, while I remained with the ear and flashed the headlights at intervals to give him his bearings. Matters thus arranged, he started off. telling mc he would be back as soon aa possible. It was bitterly cold, and there wasn't even a rug in the car. To my joy, however, I found a bottle of sherry and some biscuits in the locker, and they helped to appease my hunger and stop the chattering of my teeth. Very soon, as I crouched there all alone, thoughts of lions and even worse veldt horrors, assailed mc. Out there in tha wilderness I was at the mercy of an wild animal or rascally native who chanced to come mv way. Suppose Billy failed to find the water station! It would be a miracle if he found anything in that pitch darkness! Suppose he stumbled across a lion or got bitten by a snake? I recalled stories of men lost on the veldt wandering aimlessly round and round in circles for days on end, while all the time they were within a few yards of some definite route to a village or town. All sorts of horrible fancies assailed mc and I huddled farther and farther down into the car, the most miserable and terrified girl in Africa. The minutes crept slowly on. I looked at my watch. It was 2 a.m. Billy had been gone two hours. Surely he should be returning now? I switched on tie spot-light and swivelled it round. The brilliant beam seemed only to make the darkness more intense, and to my disappointment it elicited no welcome shout from Billy Switching the light off. I sank back once more into the car, shivering with cold and suspense as I huddled my scanty garments about mc. It seemed as though this awful night would never come to an end. Presently there came a rustling in the bushes somewhere quite near mc. My heart leapt with joy—here was Billy at last! Jumping up on to the seat of the car, I gave a wild "Cooee!" switched on the spot-light, and swung it round quickly. But there came no answering yell; instead, two small but hideously unmistakable lanterns flashed back. I had lit up the face of a great beast—a hon! For an instant I literally froze with terror; then I pulled myself together. This was no time for senseless panic if I wanted to save my life. I could hear the brute scrambling through the bush towards mc, makin« a noise like the pifrring of a cat greaUy magnified. If only I had a gun! It was no use trying to hide in the car; the lion could easily spring in and find mc. Uad the car been standing on dry grouna I TOUld have crawled underneath it, I reflected, beyond the reach of such a big animal; but to get underneath in present circumstances would have meant a cold slimy death in water and oozy mud. In moments of crisis one's mind sometimes works swiftly, and now inspiration came to mc in a flash. Wild beasts dread fire. I remembered, and forthwith I fumbled in the basket of "LmmeH.dte necessities' , which Aunt Florence took with her on every trip. "Matches! Matches'" I gasped. To my joy I found a box. I hastily flung a hat-box out of the ear, jumped after it. set it alight, and then proceeded to ignite the grass all round. A flicker and a crackle, and soon there was quite a blaze. The lion, at sight of the flames, halted in his tracks and gave a sort of snarl. I could dimly see his outline through the flame as he stood there uncertain what to do, but ai last he apparently came to the conclusion that I was dangerous. and disappeared into the darkness, lashing his tail angrily. I was overjoyed when he went away, but a moment" later an awful thought seized mc. Supposing that, in his present infuriated condition, the brute met poor Billy returning! I was sitting there trembling, a prey to the most awful suspense, when a sound like a faint shout was wafted to my ears from afar. Fc/fgetting that the lion might still be lurking close by, I sprang for the spot-light and swivelled it round. At the far end of the beam of light I sent swinging out into the night I beheld a weird, gnome-like object whose shape mystified mc. This was aot Billy—but what was it?

Straining ray eyes, I made out two natives, apparently creeping on all fours! What new terror -was this? Iα sheer despair I awaited my fate. Why, why, had I not gone with Billy, and" risked finding the car and the wretched luggage again r Was it any use to run away, or should I stay where I was? Suddenly 1 heard a voice, apparently an Englishman's, and again I moved the light. Now that, they were nearer I made out that the two natives were carrying something. Ah! I could see now! It was Billy, and he was alive, for I could hear him speaking. With a yell of joy I sprang from the car and rushed to meet him. It appeared that after a long and tedious search he had managed to find a kraal and two natives. On the way back to the car he had put his foot in a hole and either sprained or broken his ankle. For a while he had hobbled along with great difficulty, but had finally been compelled to let the "boys" carry him between them. Glad though I was to see him again. I looked at the two natives in despair. They Jiad brought Billy back, but it was obviously impossible for them to move the car. 1 saw that poor Billy was in great pain, though he did his best to conceal it, and 1 made up my mind that we must get proper assistance at once. One of the natives, a faithful-looking old fellow, said that there was a farm two miles to the north, where help could be obtained, but he did not think that the Dutch farmer would lend his "buys' , unless the white chief asked lor them himself. I entreated him to go and try, but he merely shrugged his Did shoulders knowingly; he was sure, lie pointed, that the Dutch baas would not stnd ''boys" unless we went ourselv(-.-\ '•Tien I will g0. ,, I said. I brushed aside Billy's loud protests, and set off at once, with the old native to guide mc. It was still very dark, but the stars had grown brilliant, and lighted us through the undergrowth and dense creeper-dogced scrub. I was past fear now. though I was poorly equipped for such a trip. Unarmed, with a thin silk skirt fluttering round cobwebby stockings, 1 should have stood little chance if 1 had trodden on a poisonous snake. But no mishap befell us. and at length we reached the collection of rondavels or huts, which in Africa always , indicate the neighbourhood of a

farm. Two small straw-thatched huts stood at the beginning of a track, like lodges at tlie entrance to some stately English park. I knocked at the rous.li teak door, but there was no response, nor was any light visible, so we set off up the path towards another clump of rondavels. Here we detected a fainc ligiit shining through a chink in a door. There was a noise within, and when I knocked the door opened to reveal the grotesque form of a burly old Boer farmer in much-worn pyjamas. His scanty white hair was towsled, and two dazed-looking heavy blue eyes peered out from amidst the wrinkles in a. weather-beaten face. It was some few minutes before I could get the old man to understand my mission. He still seemed half asleep, and the candle he held in his hand spluttered and almost went out. That he seemed dazed did not surprise mc. for the sudden advent of a youthful-looking decently-dressed white woman on the th>'t!>l:i:til of a desolate farm in the iio-rt of Afvion at four o'clock in the morning was enough to stagger a Sherlock Holmes. Finally the old man seemed to grasp the situation, for he donned a ooat and went out to rally his '■hoys. -, while I sat dangling my legs impatiently at the foot of his old broken-down camp-bed. Twenty-five ""boys" he marshalled for mc, and what is more —bless his grey hairs!—he accompanied mc hack with them. I'y the of lanterns, with much creaking and straining, much splashing and cursing, much heaving out a little and slipping back a lot. to the tune of hoarse shouts from the "boys"" and shrill b-irks from their dogs, we finally tup old oar on to firm ground once more an! found that it «s practically uni.i Hired. Wo distributed all our small (Msh amongst the "boys,"' thanked the old Dutchman from the bottom of our hearts, and then Billy hobbled into tin , driving-seat and we drove off. "We reached Fnitaki without further mishap just -is day was breaking. What joy it was to find Aunt Florence waiting there! On discovering that };er niece and the I'iircraire were missing, slip had promptly left the tr.iip. determined to remain there until ;!)» eon d get into communication with m»>. Cieod old Aunt Flo! It was n nuisance fiat wp lost our berths*, but. n« she said, things might have been much