THE Night Mail 'Plane

Auckland Star, Volume LXIX, Issue 210, 6 September 1938, Page 17

THE Night Mail 'Plane

Short Story

IT -'wa# not oftefi that the manager of * the Koonrik Ivory Corporation listened to rumours. In Africa rumours are as plentiful as flies, and equally tantalising. Some are true, the majority are fictitious, but both kinds are apt to fink into oblivion to make room far further fabrications. However, the tale of the elephants' cemetery was a trifle more factful than !a mere rumour: And it was this definite element of truth about it which made the., hard-boiled manager of Koonrik'h jstore it 111 the back of his mind for future investigation. He had heard of expeditions setting out to locate the cemetery. But they had never returned- —not eveir one man. _ The general opinion was that they had either succumbed to some tropical disease or, more likely, fallen into a pvgmy ambush and had been tortured to death. And thus, owing to this utter failure to gain knowledge, the exact position of this vast hoard of ancient ivory continued to remain a complete mystery. 1 hen, aided by wisdom acquired from the fate of these expeditions, the persevering tusk-hunters had adopted a more suitable scheme of attack. They had decided that a large nuniln?r of men attracted unwelcome attention—and news in Africa is almost instantaneous. Therefore, the fewer the men the more chances of ultimate success. \et in spite of this new system none of the 10 parties which had started out so enthusiastically ever came back to I relate the true version of the tusk-hun-ters' paradise. For some time it was the chief item of discussion at the drinking saloons, and after that it was regarded no longer as a fact, but rather as a fable. And then, when years had elapsed, the manager of Koonrik's was given the opportunity of proving authenticity. One evening, as lit, ,v«s about to leave his office, the doors were thrown open and a figure stumbled in. Even in the dim, tropical light the manager could see enough of the pitiful condition of his visitor to draw a gasp from his lips. The man's clothes—if they were worthy of such a name—hung in tattered plaits about his waist. His f«ce and chest were covered in blood, and punctured with a thousand tiny holes. His eyelids were gone, and spirals of raw flesh circled his legs, marking the places where strips of skin had been neatly cut away. For half an hour tTie manager listened to his incredible story, told between short- agonised breaths. After he had been dosed with brandy the man became more coherent. He was a tusk-hunter, he said, and employing the utmost secrecy, he and a companion had set out determined to discover the cemetery. They had reached it after a long day's journey through the jungle. The manager used the wyiting-pad by his side as the hunter gave the exact location of the place. He found it hard to believe his ears when he heard the vivid description of this veritable tusk--1? The existence the cemetery was no longer a myth—the last resting ground of the mighty Changs of the African forests had heen discovered. "We stood there—spellbound," the wounded man went orf. "The ivory was in small pile*—scattered all over the clearing—the best I've ever seen—pricelefts stuff." " His breath wu coining in alarming gulps. The manager handed hijtt the brandy flask, and* after a deep drink he continued. " >. "The pygm !e«—treat the cemetery — like temple. They hate strangers— the/got us—tortured U* —my companion died—l escaped—thought I'd live to rrturn —but the pygmies—knew better." A few moments later he was dead. Late that night the manager held a conference at his 'house. His two chief ivory collectors, were-his guests. Bret, « Dutchman, anda .Russian called JP6tronaviski, but better known as "Whisky" for short. Together the three men discussed the idea of penetrating once more into the jungle to gather the spoils of the cemetery. At length the trio rose. They had arrived at a decision. The two hunters were to start early in the morning, blazing the trail as they travelled. They Were to be followed at intervals of an hour by small parties of men who would be warned, to avoid raising the slightest suspicion by their movements—the drum telegraph is an instrument to be feared In Africa. If the pygmies received news Of the exhibition before their plans had time to develop, all would be lost. By means of a steady stream t>f men the cemetery, it was calculated, would b«r fortified by a garrison strong enough to repulse a pygmy army ten times its number, armed only with spears and arrows. There was a certain amount of danger and risk attached to the scheme, but as Bjet' remarked to his companion as they crawled into the jungle, lit by the glimmer of a hazy dawn: "If you want to take a tusk—you have to take . a tussle as well." By mid-day tlhe broiling sun was beating down upon the heads of the two hunters, but they had made good progress. Already the Russian figured, they must be well over the half-way limit. When dusk arrived they had to travel more cautiously. They were handicapped by the failing light; on all sides increased activities in the animal noises warned them that danger lurked everywhere. Even the usually-calm Russian was affected. His 'eyes wore a strained. expression. He took up the compass which dangled by a string from his neck, •napped on his electric torch, and peered anxiously at the round, glass face. "We must be very near the cemetery now," he said in a sharp' voice. Bret nodded and scanned the darkness beyond. He shivered for no apparent reason. A few minutes later the last of the barrier of tangled undergrowth which surrounded the cemetery had been hacked away. The two men stepped into the clearing and surveyed the scene with utter amazement. Even by the light of their torches they found it impossible to appreciate the size of the "tuskers' graveyard." In every direction they could see small pjles of tusks—the ground was covered completely except for a bare patch here and there. It resembled a large, white, spreading sheet. Bret wiped the cold perspiration from Sis,, brow with, the back <& -his. .hand* The Buesiaij stood transfixed. "Queepi spot/' .remarked the ' Dutchman suddenly' The cemetery held a certain sacred awe which made mere presence a trifle profane. As if moved by this magic influence the Russian stopped his open-mouthed stare and tapped Bret on the shoulder.

"Better get some sleep," he said, indicating a suitable place on the ground. "We'll have some hard work to do tomorrow shifting this stuff." Bret assented and,' after dislodging two huge tusks, settled himself down to rest. The Russian followed, his rifle clasped between his knees. They had been lying on their improvised couches for barely a minute when Bret heard his companion's warning whisper. "Don't move —stay t^till —exactly as you are." Bret understood ana Tay motionless. Something was wrong. He strained his eyes into the black darkness in front of him, but he could see nothing. The Russian was turning his head slowly so that he could view the circle around them. Then he spoke again in the same low whisper. "We're surrounded," he said. "The pygmies must have found out somehow that we were here. There are hundreds of them. They're waiting to see what we'll do." He paused. Then: "Place your rifle away from you. It's useless to fight. There are too many of them. We wouldn't have a chance." Bret obeyed, pushing his rifle out of reach. "Now pretend to sleep," the Russian ordered. "They're growing more numerous. I can distinguish their shields. They're the Kosaki tribe—cunning devils—but cowards at heart." Ho rolled over on his side and pillowed his head in the angle of his arm. They waited expectantly for the inevitable rush. It seemed as if the pygmies had retreated, so still was the night. Bret was about to look up when he heard an ominous cracking of twigs underfoot. Then, with a thundering cry that started in perfect unison, the pvgmies dashed forward. In a second they had collected round their victims like a swarm of flies—shouting, gesticulating. The hunters were dragged to their feet, their hands bound behind their backs, and their eyes blindfolded. Someone snatched up their rifles; another took hold of their revolvers and knives; while a third leapt up and jerked the compass from the Russian's neck.

By P. J. LANGDALE

If we go into the jungle we will be lost,' he went on. "If we stay here the Kosaki may kill us in the morning —or they may not. I prefer to take the latter course. There's more chance of escape." "And if we knew the direction?" asked Bret. '•We would be cafe," answered his companion. "We could find our way back to the cemetery, striking north. We didn't take lonjr to get here, so it can't be far away. But where is the north?" he asked dismally. The hunters sank on to the ground and lapsed into silence. Suddenly, out of the eerie stillness of the nisrht, there came a faint drone. The Russian caught the sound and gazed upwards into the inky darkness above. A second later he was on his feet, his eyes scanning the sky intently. Presently, as the drone became amplified to a distant purr, his search was rewarded—three tiny coloured lights moved lazily over the village. "Come," he ordered, shaking his companion by the arm. "We can start now. The Kc*aki won't wake until dawn— they're heavy sleepers. If we travel fast we'll be able to reach the cemetery and warn the men, who should be there by now. By the time the Kosaki arrive we'll be in sufficient numbers to beat them off and take possession of the tusks." Bret rose slowly—incredulity on his face. "Are you mad?" he asked. "What about the direction?" The Russian turned and pointed slightly to his right. "That is the north," he said calmly. "How do you know?" asked Bret. "That was the nijjht mail 'plane that just went over," said his companion. "I should have thought of it before." He snapped on his torch and looked at his watch —neither of which had been taken from him—and nodded. "Yes, it comes over just about this time, and it's due at Leegan in half an hour. I happen to know, because it's carrying one of our best tusks. I also happen to know that Leegan lies directly south." The two hunters disappeared into the jungle.