The Final Adversary (37 page)

By now Barney could move his left arm and wiped his eyes. “Help me up,” he said. Strong arms assisted him, and though his legs were weak and trembling, he could stand.

He looked down at the body of the huge lion, beautiful even in death, and then he looked up.

The hunters had formed a ring around him, their eyes fixed on his face, but saying nothing.

“You are my brother now,” Batoni said evenly. He motioned to one of his men. A warrior walked over with a knife. Batoni held his arm out and made a cut. As the blood welled out, he looked at Barney. “Will you be brothers with Pahn people?”

Barney nodded and put his arm out. After the cut he felt the pressure of the chief’s arm against his own.

They both gazed at the joining of blood—a black arm and
a white arm. Batoni broke the solemn moment. “We are of same blood now. Never will my people harm you.”

“And my people will do nothing but good to you, Chief Batoni,” Barney replied, joy rising within him. He knew that when he was an old, old man, he would still see this scene as clearly as he did now—the black faces, the dead lion, the black arm of the African chieftain next to the white man’s.

****

“They’re back!” Del cried as he stuck his head in the doorway. “They’ve just come into the village.”

“Is—is he all right, Del?” Katie asked, dropping the damp cloth she was using to bathe Awful’s face.

“I don’t know. Let’s go see.”

Katie took one look at Gardner, then followed Del outside. It was getting close to noon, and she had not slept. Awful’s illness and fear for Barney had kept her awake.

“Look! There he is!”

“I see him!” she said.

Barney had a handkerchief tied around his head, but as soon as he caught sight of them, he hurried over.

“Are you all right?” Katie asked.

“Sure. Lost some hide, but nothing serious.”

“What’s wrong with Batoni?” Del asked.

“He got mauled by a lion,” Barney replied. “Bendi got some bad slashes too, but they’ll both be all right.”

“We expected you back yesterday,” Katie said. “I’ve been worried sick.”

“We had to patch the chief up. His leg’s pretty badly torn, so we had to make a hammock to carry him.”

“I’m glad you’re back,” she said simply.

Del was more direct. “Did you kill a lion?”

Barney laughed. “In a manner of speaking, I did. And it’s going to make a big difference around here, I think.”

“Tell us about the lion,” Del insisted.

“Not now.”

But that night at the celebration, Batoni told the story. Awful was feeling better and sat with Barney as the chief related the event—twice, in his own language and then in broken English. In the manner of natural story-tellers, he threw in some embellishments, which made Del stare at Barney in awe!

Bendi, too, gave his version, looking at Barney with hero worship.

“It’s all hot air,” Barney whispered to Katie. “All I did was choke a dying lion to death.”

“I’m sure there was more to it than that,” she said softly. “In a few years you’ll be a legend around the Pahn people.”

“Good night! I hope not!” he exclaimed. “Look! the chief’s going to make another speech. Hope it’s short.”

“Now,” Batoni said, “I will say more. First, here, my brother, is your man.”

“Bestman!” Katie cried as he appeared.

He grinned from ear to ear. “I be fine, Mammy!” he insisted. “I come to preach Jesus to Pahns.”

He took his seat with the others to listen to the chief.

“Lion Killer is my brother,” Chief Batoni said. “He save my life and the life of my son. Pahn people now his people. We no do him bad.” He added, “You leave missionary in my village. Preach Jesus. Maybe you stay, Lion Killer?”

“You will have a missionary, Chief,” Barney said. “Maybe me. Maybe this one,” he said, nodding at Katie.

Then Batoni looked at Awful and smiled, showing his filed teeth. “You strong man. Any other man die from curses we put on you. Maybe you stay with Pahn people?”

“No, Chief,” Awful replied, smiling at him. “It’s for these young ones. I must go home soon.”

Startled, Barney glanced quickly at Awful.

****

The next morning the missionaries left the village. It was
a triumphant departure, with the entire village calling out, “Lion Killer! Lion Killer!”

“If any of you call me that after we get back, I’ll drown—Awful!” he cried mid-sentence as he saw his friend staggering.

He called the porters, and they lifted Gardner into the hammock.

“What’s wrong with him, Katie?” Barney asked, worried.

“He’s been sick since you left. I don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t like it,” he replied.

The party made its way back to Gropaka, camping at the same spot on the river on their way in. The next morning they arrived at the station.

Though all were exhausted from the past day’s traumatic events, none was as bad as Awful, who was nearly unconscious as they put him to bed. “I don’t like it,” Barney said again, his lips tight. “It’s not malaria—and it’s not that awful thing we fought against in Batoni’s village. What’s the matter with him, Katie?”

“Barney, I don’t think he’s sick at all,” she said, looking at Gardner’s face. “I think he’s just reached the end of his tether.”

Her lips were compressed as she tried to conceal the fatigue that pulled at her.

Barney denied her words with a vigorous shaking of his head. “He just needs rest,” he protested. “I’ll take care of him.”

But the next day, even Barney saw that Gardner was worse. He slept, but it was not a natural sleep. When he awakened, his mind was not clear. He recognized Barney, but he thought they were back in prison. “Don’t worry, dear boy,” he whispered, smiling up at Barney. “God will get you out of this place.”

His appetite failed, and they all knew it was a matter of time. Barney never left his side, often falling asleep in his chair, but waking instantly whenever his friend moved. Sometimes Awful would look at them, and his mind would be as clear
as ever. Once he said, “Dear boy, I’m weary. It’s good to go home.”

The end came at dawn, with Katie and Barney at his side. Awful had not awakened since the previous afternoon, when Del had left for his own station.

Katie thought their friend would die without awakening. But just as the sun came up over the hills, he opened his eyes.

“Ah, dear boy,” he whispered. “What a time we’ve had with the Lord Jesus! Haven’t we, now?”

“Yes! It’s been good, Awful!” Barney said, trying to hide his grief. He choked and added, “But you’re the one who brought me to it! It was always you!”

Awful took Barney’s hand, then reached for Katie’s and placed it on Barney’s. “God be with you both—and make you to . . .” His voice faded, and they thought he was gone. But he opened his eyes and looked at them with such love that they both wept.

“I’ll tell the Lord Jesus . . .” he whispered faintly, so faintly that they had to lean forward to catch his last words: “ . . . how much you love Him—and how much—you need each other.” He was slipping away fast but rallied enough to say, as he had a thousand times to Barney, “Good-night, dear boy! It’s good to serve Jesus, ain’t it, now?”

Then he closed his eyes . . . and was gone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The Third Thing

Lola’s eyebrows narrowed as she addressed Myron Hansen, trying to hide her displeasure. “Reverend Hansen, I don’t think this is fair to Barney.”

“Not fair?” Hansen echoed her words. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mrs. Winslow. Why, this is just what the boy needs!”

Mark Winslow followed the sweep of the preacher’s fat hand, but agreed with Lola. “I think it will just embarrass him.”

The three were standing in the banquet room of the Nelson Hotel, which was packed with guests. It was a glittering exhibition—just what Reverend Hansen loved and could promote. The moment he heard about Barney’s exploit, the idea of a banquet in his honor was spawned. Of course, it wouldn’t hurt the mission either, Hansen had to admit with some satisfaction, for the news of the lion adventure had hit the papers—first in Liberia, then other news services by cable.

****

When Mark and Lola and Andy had learned about Barney’s killing a lion with his bare hands, thus saving the life of a cannibal chief and converting the entire tribe, they were thrilled.

Andy had been ecstatic and could hardly wait to leave for Liberia. He wanted to make sure Barney received the
recognition he deserved—in the eyes of Andy at least! But Mark and Lola had been convinced that too much was being made of it.

Andy overruled all protests from Lola and Mark. He had launched a triumphant campaign in the States, which had raised enormous sums, and then set sail for Africa with his parents.

They had docked on December 22, and on that same day, Reverend Hansen and Andy plunged into a furious round of activity. “Dad,” Andy insisted, “you and Mother have to understand that publicity will bring in hundreds of thousands of dollars for missions! Barney is big news! I intend to take him back with me, and we’ll hit every large church in the country!”

Barney had not even returned to Monrovia since the incident, but Hansen had sent a party to get him. He would arrive on Christmas, according to the plan created by the Hansens and Andy. And he would find himself the guest of honor at the biggest party ever given in the history of missions!

Mark and Lola had given up the struggle. “Let him do what he wants,” Mark said. “Soon as this nonsense is out of the way, we can see the real work over here.”

****

As he looked over the crowd, Mark felt he had been wrong. “I should have put a stop to this, Lola,” he said. “I don’t care what Andy says; it’s too much—like a carnival! Barney will
hate
it!”

“You’re probably right, but it’s too late to change it, dear.” Lola was wearing a black dress, and she looked more beautiful than she had twenty-five years ago. Only a single white streak marked her hair, and that made her even more attractive.

“What time will he be here?” she asked for the umpteenth time.

“Exactly at seven o’clock—and it’s nearly that now. Andy went to meet him. He’s got some scheme to keep Barney in
the dark about this extravaganza.” He glowered as he stared around the room. “I hate surprise parties! They’re for fools!”

“Hush, dear!” Lola said quickly, pressing his arm. He had the same strength and drive he had when she first met him in Texas. “They’ll hear you. Come on, let’s go sit down.”

She led the way to the large raised table, and had just been seated when a man rushed over to Reverend Hansen.

“He’s coming!” Hansen called out. “When you get my signal, we’ll give him a real City Mission ovation!”

Everyone rose and waited silently. The door opened, and Andy marched in with Barney at his side. He held up his free hand in a gesture of triumph. “And here he is, the Lion Killer himself!”

Hansen began to clap, and then the entire room exploded with cheers and applause.

Lola saw the shock mirrored in her son’s face, and murmured, “Mark, I hate this! Look how embarrassed Barney is!”

Andy gripped his brother’s arm so tightly he couldn’t escape—which was his first impulse. He had heard nothing about the stir his work with Chief Batoni had made. “What is all this, Andy?” he demanded, confused and heartsick.

“It’s all for you, Barney!” Andy smiled. “Look over there.”

Barney followed his gesture.
Mom and Dad!
“Andy, why didn’t you
tell
me they were here?”

“Part of the surprise, old boy! This is
your
night. Come along!”

He propelled him forward for a way until Barney pulled his arm free and asked, “Andy, where are Katie and the others?” But Andy acted as if he didn’t hear.

“Here he is!” Andy announced to his parents.

Mark grinned and grabbed his son in a tight embrace, then pulled back, his hands on Barney’s shoulders. “Well, son,” he said, looking into his eyes, “you’ve gotten to be a real publicity hound, I see!”

His father was joking, Barney saw, so he mustered a smile.
“Would you like my autograph?” he asked. He gave his mother a hug, and when he kissed her, tears filled her eyes.

“You look tired,” she said with concern.

Her mothering remark restored some of Barney’s good humor, but he felt very uncomfortable. Just then he heard Andy introduce him as the guest of honor, “the greatest missionary on the continent!”

“What nonsense!” Barney sputtered. Since becoming a Christian he disliked such ostentatious displays.
Lord,
he prayed,
I need more grace now than when I faced Batoni.

After Reverend Hansen asked the longest blessing Barney had heard, they sat down to partake of the luscious food. But before Andy took his place next to his parents, near the Hansens, Barney called, “Katie, you and the others come over here!”

Katie cringed and wanted to hide, but Del grinned. “Come on, the Lion Killer has spoken.”

Del led the way from where he, Katie, and Slim and Pearl Ranken had been seated in back of the room. When the four reached the front table, Barney asked the waiters to get more chairs and place settings, then said to the guests at the table, “How about we crowd up a little?”

“Good for you, Barney!” Lola whispered.

He smiled, thankful for the courage to do what was right. The meal was excellent, the speeches eloquent—especially Andy’s. He did a masterful job, interjecting wit and a detailed account of Barney’s exploits, making him look like a saint! Finally he introduced the honored guest with a flair.

The crowd rose and applauded as Barney got to his feet. When the people were seated again, a hush fell.

“My brother Andy has told you how wonderful I am,” Barney said with a straight face. “So I don’t have to go into that. But he did leave out a few details, which might interest you.” He saw Andy’s face stiffen, and was amused. “For example, he left out the fact that I served time in Sing Sing for armed robbery.” A muted rumble swept over the room,
furtive glances flitted from one to another, and Andy’s face grew red instead of white.