Chapter THE TENTH: Driving Sheep to Market (3)

Being unable to learn as much as he desired from his post of observation south of the camp, John, still accompanied by the Wanderobbo, struck off to the west, crossed the stream, which was only knee-deep but fairly swift, and making a long circuit came down upon it again through the elephant grass, at a point directly opposite the camp, and only about a hundred yards from it. The ground rose gradually from the river to the boma. From his position at the edge of the grass John could not see the gate, but guessed from the coming and going of the men that it was on the south-west side. The boma was constructed of material cut from the surrounding scrub, and was of no great strength, though sufficiently formidable to stop a rush. The fact that the men had kindled fires showed that they were not seriously apprehensive of being followed up, and this sign of security was welcome to John, as favouring his design of surprising them.

It was nearly dark when he rejoined the safari, so fatigued that Ferrier questioned the possibility of his leading an attack that night.

"Oh, I'm all right," said John. "I can rest for an hour or two. Have you got a pencil? I'll draw a sketch of the camp. Here's the stream: here's the elephant grass: what I propose is that we make our way to that and suddenly spring on them. Even disciplined troops are pretty well scarified by a night attack, and if we can only fairly surprise these beggars we ought at least to be able to get our ammunition, if not our rifles, in the confusion."

"But if they stand we shall be in a bad way."

"That's true. We can't match them in mere fighting strength. Everything depends on the completeness of the surprise, and we shall have to be very strict with our men. The slightest sound will give the alarm, and as they're not used to marching at night they are likely to be scared by anything. That's all I'm afraid of. I don't know whether we hadn't better gag them all."

Ferrier laughed.

"I don't think that would help matters," he said. "You had better explain to them what's at stake, and then take your chance."

"Well, we'll try it to-night. D'you know I begin to get a notion of what their game is. Bill says that one of them belonged to the Arabs who stole his ivory. If that's so, the fellow will know where the ivory is buried, and I fancy this is a pretty scheme to get hold of it. Ten to one it's Juma. That would explain his bagging rifles and ammunition. He wanted to get together a strong party, so that he could keep off the 'bad men' in whose country the ivory is. It will be rather a feather in our cap if we can get back our property and dish his little game too."

"Don't fly too high, old chap. We may thank our stars if we get through at all, and if you take my advice, as soon as we have secured the ammunition if we ever do, you'll make tracks for home and not go treasure-hunting. There's nobody on the farm, remember."

"Well, we'll see. First things first; I'll go and harangue the men."

CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH--Ferrier Insists

There were long faces among the men when they heard what was expected of them. Night was terrible to them. They were low-spirited, and John had to refrain from stimulating them with a full meal; there would be danger in lighting fires. But he promised them a feast when the work was done. To march silently, to keep together, to do exactly what they were told: that was the sum of his exhortation. When he left them to consider it, some grumbled, others talked of slinking away. But one reminded them that these wasungu had slain lions and rhinoceros, why should they not slay bad men too? And they kept their promises: if they said there should be a feast, a feast there would certainly be. So they took comfort, and began to talk bravely of the deeds they would do.

Before they set forth, John set Bill to gather some bundles of dry grass and press them tight. Then he asked Said Mohammed to spare him a quantity of the methylated spirit he had brought for cooking. He poured some of this into his pocket-flask from the Bengali's tin can.

"You will remain here, Said Mohammed," he said. "I shall leave five or six men who have most felt the strain of marching."

"Respectfully, sir, that is against the grain. I go where honour calls. Never say die. I gird up my loins and follow into thick of the fray."

"All right. Just as you please. Keep close to us, that's all."

"I will stick closer than a brother, sir."

Some few minutes past ten o'clock, under a sky whose blackness was scarce broken by the stars, John and the Wanderobbo led the way out of the camp, each carrying a bundle of dried grass. Immediately behind them marched Said Mohammed, then Coja and the rest of the men in single file, Ferrier bringing up the rear. They moved silently, and the half-dozen men left behind in the camp, peering out through the boma, neither saw nor heard them when the last man was a dozen yards away.

John did not try to find the track of his former journey. It was too dark to see it. Bill might have discovered it by his wonderfully keen sense of touch, but there was no need. All they had to do was to march due west until they struck the stream; then to hug its bank until they arrived at the elephant grass.

It was slow work, and not without its anxieties for the white men. Every now and then John heard a gulping sound behind, and knew that some one was afraid. Once or twice he halted. The men's hard breathing spoke of terror rather than effort. At such times he passed down the line, speaking quietly to reassure them; then, returning to the head, he bent to the ground and struck a match under his hat, to check the course by his pocket-compass, and went on again. Once there was a rustling sound upon the left hand, and the scared negroes made clicks with their mouths, and some would have run had not John, in a fierce whisper, called to them to stand, and asked whether they feared an antelope.

They came at length to the stream, the gurgle of its waters making a pleasant music in John's ears. Half the journey was done. So that he might not come to the stream near the enemy's camp he had directed his course somewhat south of his former line; and it was a long march up-stream before they came to the elephant grass. John avoided the brink, for fear of lurking crocodiles. Once he almost stumbled upon a hippopotamus asleep in the sedge, and thought it lucky he was at the head of his men, whom the snort of the beast, as it rose and shambled away into the darkness, might have infected with panic. He heaved a sigh of relief as he came at last to the tall, thick grass standing high above his head. Halting, he passed word down the line to tread even more cautiously and in even deeper silence, trusting that the rustling which could scarcely be avoided would, if heard in the camp, seem to the enemy only the sound of animals moving in the grass. Then he went on again.

Peering out through the screen, he presently saw a dull glow some distance to the right. There lay the camp; within the boma fires were burning. Once more the party halted, and John, moving stealthily, sought Ferrier to consult with him.

"I'm going to set fire to the boma," he said in a whisper. "When you see the flames, fire off all your rifles and lead the men at a rush for the camp. They can shout then like the army of Gideon. We're north-west of it; they'll be startled out of their sleep, and rush for the gate on the south-west; at least I hope so."

"You'd better let me fire the boma, John. You'll lead the men better than I should; they know you best. Besides, it's my turn."

"Rubbish!" said John. "I've been here before."

"But I can't miss the boma if I go straight ahead. I insist on it, old chap; I'm sure it will be best. Hand over your grass and the spirit; I've got matches."

"Your arm's not thoroughly sound yet."

"All the more reason. It doesn't require much muscle to strike a match. Come on; it must be past midnight; there's no time to lose."

John gave him the materials somewhat reluctantly. Ferrier pressed his hand and slid away into the darkness. Time passed very slowly. The men grew fidgety; John heard the strange gulping in their throats, and the little noises they made as they moved worried him, lest they were heard in the camp. True, there were other sounds: the hum of insects, a lion's roar in the distance, the laughing bark of a hyena; but these were momentary, not continuous like the rustling of the grass, which there was no breeze to account for. As minute after minute passed, and there was still no sign, John grew more and more anxious. The boma was less than two hundred yards distant. He durst not strike a light to look at his watch, but surely there had been time to go and come and go again. What was happening?

Ferrier, stealing across the ground with no more sound than a snake might have made, guided always by the faint glow from the fires, had covered, as he guessed, two-thirds of the distance when he thought it prudent to drop upon hands and knees, lest, upright, his form should be descried by some keen-sighted sentry. He had crawled thus some twenty yards further when suddenly he saw dimly before him a something, like an irregular hedge, no more than four feet high, stretching athwart his path. Was this the boma? Surely it bespoke unusual security in the enemy if they had contented themselves with so low a defence. Their bomas were commonly six feet high or more. He crept on more stealthily until he touched the obstruction: it was a thorny hedge. He tried to peer through it, expecting to see the camp-fires; but he looked into blackness, save for the dull red glow in the sky. Was it possible that the enemy were not so confident after all, but had erected a double barrier? Or was the hedge natural?

He crawled to the left. The hedge had a regular curve. It must have been placed by men. Raising himself gradually to his feet until his eyes were just level with the top, he looked over. Yes; there was the true boma, a dark mass thirty feet away. Through its interstices he saw streaks of dim light from the fires burning within. To set fire to the outer hedge would be useless; within the boma the enemy would be still secure, and the conflagration would but give them light to take aim at their assailants. He must cross the hedge.

But how? By a flying leap? This would expose him to the view of any one on watch, for though the night was dark, it was not so black but that a moving object could be seen. By clambering over? This would be attended by the same risk and by others. He might indeed scramble over at the expense of torn hands and clothing, though there was the danger of being held fast by the tenacious wait-a-bit thorns of which the obstacle was made. But his movements must cause such a crackling and creaking of the interlaced branches as could not fail to alarm any one who chanced to be awake in the camp, no matter at what part of it. Leaping and climbing being equally out of the question, what course remained?

Ferrier was not for nothing the grandson of a man who had roughed it in the backwoods of Canada. If acquired qualities are not inherited, the stock of which he came must have been sturdy and dogged in grain. At any rate, Charles was not the man to be baulked. Dropping on his knees again, he dug his fingers into the soil beneath the hedge. It was gravel, like the ground he had crossed in coming from the river. Very carefully he began to scrape out a hole, intending to persevere until it was large enough for him to squeeze his body through. He soon found that the task was not to be easy. The soil was so light and mobile that, as he scraped, it tended to slip at the sides and fill up the hole he was so laboriously excavating. Further, he felt the hedge, at the point where he was undermining it, subside, with a rustling and creaking which, faint as it was, might easily catch the ear of a wary guard. Fortunately the subsidence was soon checked. The base of the hedge was composed of stout branches which yielded but slightly, and in a few minutes the settling down ceased.

Relieved on this score, Ferrier scraped away at the hole, thinking of John, who was no doubt wondering at the long delay. He worked until his fingers were sore. At last the hole was large enough for him to wriggle under the hedge. He groped with his hands for any thorns that might be sticking out downwards from the tangle above, and finding several, cut them off with his knife. Then, shoving his bundles of grass before him, he crawled into the hole and began to worm his way through. It was a tight fit, and the difficulty was all the greater because of the need for silence. More than once as his body, pressed close against the lower part of the hedge, put some strain upon it, there was a sharp creak when his passage freed the branch. At last he was through, scratched, hot, and breathless, and with a feeling that the various parts of his clothing were in very unnatural relation to one another. But he was through: that was the main thing; and pausing only to take breath, he ran in a stooping posture across the space between the outer and the inner defences.

All was quiet within the boma. Ferrier maintains to this day that snoring is an infirmity of civilization, for the sleepers emitted no sound. He lost no time in completing his task. First he soaked the bundles of grass thoroughly with methylated spirit, having postponed this until he reached the boma, lest evaporation should diminish the effect. Then he thrust them beneath the boma, choosing a place where it was thick and the light from the fires shone through less freely than elsewhere. Then he struck a match and applied it. Instantly there was a great flame; the dry thornbushes of the boma took fire readily. Ferrier slipped away to be out of the glare, but had gone only a few steps when he heard a soft patter of feet behind him. A moment after, the air was rent with rifle cracks and a din of shouting, from within the boma and from a distance. He turned to meet the man approaching, and saw the form of a big negro silhouetted against the glare. Ferrier was unarmed save for his clasp-knife, and he had not made up his mind what to do when a shot whistled past him: the negro had fired at him while still running. Before the man could draw a knife or turn in his tracks Ferrier threw himself upon him, trying to wrest the rifle from his hand. The two fell together; the rifle dropped to the ground; and black man and white were locked in a desperate wrestle. Ferrier felt the negro's arms about him, straining to crush him or to break his back. Oblivious of the tumult around him--the yells and shots within the boma, the shouts of the assailants, the crackle and roar of the flames--Ferrier strove to free himself from the strangling embrace, conscious that he was no match in muscle for his powerful opponent. He had almost given himself up for lost when the man's grip relaxed, and with a heavy groan he lay still. Ferrier sprang up. By the light of the blazing boma he saw the men of his party at two points of the outer hedge, some leaping over it, some slashing at it with their knives and tearing it down. None of them were firing; after the first discharge of their rifles John had ordered them to rush for the camp. Evidently the big negro had been struck down by a shot from his own friends.

Ferrier stood for a moment, marvelling at the din. Then he saw that John's men had crossed the outer hedge and were swarming towards the boma. Shouting at the top of his voice lest he should be butchered by his own party, he left the wounded man on the ground and joined them. With John at their head they were sweeping round towards the gate. The firing from within the boma had now ceased; the shouts were those of the assailants alone; and when the excited throng reached the gate, they saw in the ruddy glare the enemy streaming in frantic haste towards the river. Many an arrow was sped after them; a few of the rearmost narrowly escaped capture. Seeing that they were hopelessly routed, John shouted to his men to refrain from pursuit and retire within the boma. Then, telling off a dozen men to stand at the gate and watch against any rally of the enemy, he called to the rest to help him to check the fire. He left the part that was fiercely burning, and ordered the men to tear down a portion on each side of it, so as to make two large gaps across which the flames could not spring. The work was assisted by the absence of wind. The portion around the spot where Ferrier had kindled the fire soon burnt itself out; the remainder was saved. Within ten minutes after the first blaze the enemy were scattered in confusion, and the camp was in John's hands.

CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH--A Coup de Main

John's first proceeding when the conflagration had been stayed was to look for the property he had been at such pains to recover. The camp-fires gave too little light, so he got Coja to make a couple of torches. Taking one himself and giving the other to Ferrier, he hastened to the centre of the camp, where the baggage was piled. On the way he passed a confused medley of things--sleeping mats, cooking pots, bows and arrows, spears--things left or flung down by the fugitives in their hurried flight. And there, packed in the middle space, out of reach of the fires, were his boxes of ammunition and his rifles.

"We've got the lot, by Jove!" he exclaimed joyfully. "They haven't even opened one of the boxes. What extraordinary luck!"

"Couldn't be better," cried Ferrier heartily. "And you've got more than your own, too; there's a good many bows and arrows and a few spears, besides no end of baskets containing food, I suppose."

"Yes, they belong to the villagers. We'll make them a present of the bows and arrows and spears, and anything else they can find, bar the rifles. There aren't many spears; I suppose the rascals slept with them at their side, and snatched them up when they ran. Hallo! Here are two of the Sniders that Juma ran off with in his first little scheme. That makes three we've recovered."

"And proves that Juma is at the bottom of it."

"I should like to lay that fellow by the heels. But we'd better get something to eat. I'm famishing. Where's our failed B.A.?"

"Here, sir," said a voice at John's elbow. "I obeyed in all points your esteemed injunctions at closest possible proximity, and tender hearty congratulations on the success, not in mortals to command, but more, deserved, which has attended this tour de force."

"Well now, make up the fire and see what you can do to get us a meal. I'll go and talk to the young chief, Charley, and butter him up. He and his men did jolly well. The shouts they let out when I gave the word made amends for their silence during the march, which must have been a trial to them."

Said Mohammed made up the fire and hunted about for the best cooking-pot and the articles of fare he thought would be most pleasing to the white men. The villagers had already set to work to prepare their own food, chattering and laughing in high elation. Within a quarter of an hour Said Mohammed had made a stew of some partly cooked waterbuck he had discovered. He washed out two rough mugs of clay, and pouring the stew into them, handed one to each of the young men.

"A thousand regrets, gentlemen," he said, "that circs. do not admit of more dainty dishes and service to match."

"That's all right," said John. "I could eat anything, and this stew is first-rate."

"Permit me to remark, sir, on national characteristics as displayed by gastronomic ways of going on, utensils, et cetera. The nation, sir, that invented gas-stoves produced Shakespeare, bard of Avon; what achievements in science or literature could be expected from a race that never devilled kidney nor poached egg? Shakespeare himself, sir, was a poacher in giddy youth; though poaching egg and poaching stag are in some respects different, yet each is fine art. The fate of empires lurks in the saucepan; indeed, the mightiest monarch would be negligible quantity without quantum suff. Wherefore----"

"A little more stew, please," said John, interrupting. "You'd better get your own supper, khansaman; you must be pretty peckish after your exertions."

"I am indeed, sir, an abhorred vacuum, and retire with permission to get jolly good tuck-in."

"Thank goodness!" ejaculated John when he had gone. "I say, Charley, I was getting very nervous when we didn't see the light for so long. You were pulled up by that hedge, of course; how did you get through?"

"Burrowed like a mole. I've a greater respect for that animal now. I suppose we'll make tracks for home in the morning, by the bye?"

"Well, d'you know, I'd rather like to finish this job now we've started. Juma's still at large: his men are a rabble, of course, but they're not licked, and if he gets them back to this fort of his he may still worry us, to say nothing of harrying the people about him. What do you say? Are you game?"

"What about the farm?"

"Gillespie will have sent somebody up by the time we could get back."

"But don't you think we've done for Juma? To-night's work will damage his prestige, and I shouldn't wonder if the 'bad men,' as Bill calls them, round on him now."

"I don't know. It will take him some time to recover from the blow, of course, but you see he still has some of our rifles and a certain amount of ammunition, I should think, and they'll go a long way in this country of bows and arrows. No: I confess I'd like to follow him up. The chief difficulty is our natives. They've recovered their property, which is what they came for, and I rather doubt whether they'll be willing to go any farther from home. If they won't there's no more to be said."

"In any case we aren't strong enough to storm the fort, if it is a fort."

"I shouldn't propose to do that. My idea is to start at sunrise or before, and get to the fort in advance of Juma. His men are quite demoralized: they'll take some time to rally. They'll probably hide in trees during the night, and they'll have to find one another in the morning, so that if we start early we can easily outstrip them."

"We don't know the way."

"But we've got some prisoners, my boy. No, we haven't though; I called our men off before they caught them. That's awkward."

"I wonder if the fellow who tried to pot me is still alive."

"You didn't tell me of that. When was it?"

Ferrier related the incident that happened outside the boma. John at once accompanied him to the spot, which they reached just in time to see the wounded man limping towards the outer hedge. They ran after him and caught him, taking him back to the camp, where John examined his leg, and did what he could by bathing and bandaging. Meanwhile he questioned the man, and learnt from him that the fort lay a long day's march to the north. It was held by about forty men, of whom several were Swahilis and had rifles. The fort was built on an island in the river--not the stream flowing past the camp, but a broader river into which that emptied itself a day's march to the south. To find it would be easy. They had only to follow the stream for a short distance, and then strike across country directly to the north. They would soon come upon the river, and the surrounding country being hilly, the easiest way to the fort was to follow its course.

"Now we'll tackle our natives," said John.

He found, as he had expected, that they were at first loath to engage themselves for a further expedition. They had recovered their property: the chief would be expecting them; they wanted to return and celebrate their success by a feast. John pointed out that, though they had done much, they would greatly enhance their glory if they carried back a great quantity of spoil from the enemy. They had been wantonly attacked: why not repay their attackers in their own coin? The fort would certainly contain things worth having. This argument appealed to the men, and when the chief's son reminded them that the wasungu had kept their promise and led them to a bloodless victory, they began to waver. "The wasungu are great hunters of lions," said the young chief; "they are also great hunters of men." John said that any who wished to go home might do so; but none were disposed to pass through the country without the whole body, and ultimately they agreed to follow the msungu wherever he chose to lead them. "You've a most persuasive tongue," said Ferrier to John, as they went away to talk things over. "I'm inclined to think you ought to have gone to the bar after all."

"Bosh! The judges aren't savages. We shall have to arrange a flying column--that's the name for it, isn't it? It's quite clear from what the prisoner said that we must get to the fort well in advance of Juma. If they get back we shan't be able to dislodge them: they won't be caught napping again, you may be sure. As it is, we may find it a hard nut to crack if there are forty men in the fort. We shall have to divide forces, too. We must leave enough men to guard this loot, and I'm afraid we can't both go, old chap: one of us must remain in charge."

"Well, you've done the hardest work so far: you take a rest and let me try my luck."

"But you fired the boma; it's my turn. Tell you what, we'll toss for it. Heads I go, tails you do as you please."

The spin of the coin decided for John.

"Just my luck," said Ferrier. "I always lost the toss when I captained the lacrosse team at McGill's. How many men will you take?"

"I can't do with fewer than twenty. I'll take Bill; Coja and Said Mohammed had better remain with you. By the way, you'll send over to our old camp in the morning and fetch the half-dozen we left there. They'll jump out of their skins if they're left too long. I wonder if our wounded prisoner could manage to come with me. I might find him useful. In fact, I'll take him--on a litter if he can't walk."

"Well, you'd better get a sleep now, or you won't be fit for much in the morning. The men too. It looks as though they meant to jabber all night."

"I'll stop that. I'll go and pick my men and make 'em go to sleep. Wake me at five, there's a good chap. By Jove! Wouldn't my old dad be in a stew if he knew what was up! We're risking a lot when you come to think of it; but we've been lucky so far, and with rifles and plenty of ammunition I fancy we'll win through. If I'm not back within two or three days you had better make tracks for the farm. Don't forget to wake me at five."

"All right. Pleasant dreams!"

Precisely at five o'clock John was roused, to find ready for him a breakfast of steaming stew and baked millet cakes. Ferrier had also prepared a litter for the prisoner, whose wound forbade him to walk. At half-past five the little company set off, consisting of John and the Wanderobbo, and twenty of the villagers. John had his rifle, a spare one being carried by a man at his side. Only two of the other men had ever handled firearms; these were given rifles, and carried the ammunition in little bundles slung to their backs. John had filled his bandolier and his pockets with cartridges. Ferrier said good-bye to him at the gate of the boma, and started the men left behind in a rousing cheer.

The party marched very rapidly, John at the head with Bill and the litter-bearers, so that the prisoner might keep them in the right way. They followed the course of the stream for about a mile; then forded it, and made across a stretch of grassland, in which, as the morning advanced, they started large numbers of game. Just before noon they reached the river of which the prisoner had spoken, a slow, gurgling current of red water. Here they halted for a meal of beans and millet; then after an hour's rest set forth again. They had gone but a short distance up-stream when, as they ascended a slight acclivity, Bill was seized with intense excitement. Pointing to a flat-topped hill many miles away, he cried that it was there the Arab safari was attacked, and near by the ivory was hidden. A projecting spur to the right was the site of the shambas whence the people had pounced out to the assault. His own old home lay half a day's journey beyond the hill.

John pressed on now even more rapidly. Though he had met with no natives on the way, he could not be sure that some of the fugitives had not outstripped him along another route. For the most part he kept to the river, striking off here and there to avoid wide sweeping curves, as the prisoner indicated. Presently he saw in the distance a bold bluff rising to a hundred feet above the plain, and stretching across the line of march. The fort, said the prisoner, lay a short distance beyond the bluff, which was cut in two by the river. Up the side of the bluff wound a steep pathway, and at the top a look-out was constantly stationed, except at night, when he was withdrawn into the fort. From this high post the plain could be seen for miles. Knowing how keen is the negro's sight, John called a halt before it was likely that his party had come within the range of vision. The rest of the journey must be performed in the dark. He led the men into the bush at some distance from the river, so that they should not be seen by any one who might pass either to or from the fort. Again he impressed upon them the necessity for silence.

At nightfall, refreshed by the rest, they started once more, confident of being able to approach the bluff unobserved. An hour's march under the pale light of the stars brought them to its foot, and John heard the noise of water rushing swiftly through the gorge. The pathway, said the prisoner, started from a spot very near the river-bank. Even with his directions it proved by no means easy to find in the darkness, and when at last they lit upon it, and John began the ascent, it was scarcely less difficult to keep to the track. Bill fell on his knees and groped along it with his hand, saying when he arose that it had not been made originally by men, but trodden by game descending from the hills to the plain.

Coming at length, after a tortuous and toilsome climb, to the summit, John paused to take breath and to look about him. Below on his left he could now see the foaming river racing through the gorge. Beyond, the ground sloped gradually to the plain. There was no sound save that of the swirling water, no sign of the presence of men. He went on, until he came once more to the brink of the river, and a mile further on saw gleaming in the starlight a broad pool, in the midst of which rose a dark mass. This, said the prisoner, was the island and fort, and at the upper end of the pool the river ran down swiftly, but not so swiftly as below.

Striking off to the right towards a belt of woodland, John led his party until they came opposite the island. It was dark and silent: no one would have supposed that the fort held men. John could see an irregular path leading from the shore to the island. This, said the prisoner, was a line of rocks flung down into the water, and so narrow that only one man could walk along it at a time. There was a gap between the island and the end of the causeway. The prisoner explained that a bridge was thrown over the gap to enable men to enter and leave the fort, the wall of which came to within a few feet of the shore of the island. At night the bridge was drawn up.

John stood to consider his next move. His purpose in bringing the prisoner was to use him as a decoy to draw the garrison from the fort. He was confronted with a difficulty. The man could not walk. He would be useless as a decoy unless he could advance along the causeway so far as to bring him within hearing of his fellows. The bullet was still in the man's leg; John wished he had thought of probing the wound before; it was impossible to do it now. The negro is a hardy animal, stolid under pain. John promised to give the man a handsome present if he would leave the litter and go with a message to the fort. The man agreed with such alacrity as to suggest an intention of treachery, but John provided against that. He had the prisoner bound to him by a cord about his ankle, and showing him his revolver, he explained what the result would be if he did anything but what he was told to do. He carefully instructed the prisoner in the part he was required to play, repeating his words so that he could not mistake. Then, having placed the remainder of his party under cover of the wood, he set forth with the negro.

There was now a light in the fort, and the glow of a fire. Clearly somebody was awake. The two men walked down to the edge of the pool, and on to the causeway, the guide limping painfully, but uttering no murmur. John walked close behind him, so that he might not be descried from the fort. They had gone about half-way along the causeway when a voice rang out from some point ahead. The prisoner gave an answering shout. John's nerves were at too high a tension to permit of his feeling amusement at the greetings that were exchanged.

"Is it well?"

"It is well."

"Ah!"

"Ah!"

"Um!"

"Um!"

"Have you eaten well?"

"We have eaten well.

"Ma!"

"Ma!"

"Mum!"

"Mum!"

Civilities being thus completed, they got to business. The prisoner recited the story with which he had been prompted, so glibly that a white man might have doubted its veracity. He said that he brought good news. The brave warriors (meaning Juma's party), under their brave leader, had sacked the msungu's farm and the neighbouring village, and made much plunder, so vast a quantity, indeed, that they were exhausted in carrying it. He had been sent in advance to order thirty men to issue forth and help the weary warriors in conveying their spoils up the bluff.

"It is dark," said the sentry.

"It is the leader's command," was the reply. "He will be like a raging lion if you delay."

Another voice was heard within the fort. In a few moments the sentry cried--

"We come."

"Ah!" said the prisoner.

"Ah!" echoed the sentry.

Then, before the garrison could issue from the gate and lay the bridge across the gap, the prisoner cried that he would hasten back and inform Juma that the men were coming. He turned, and followed John along the causeway until they reached the shore. Then the two hurried across the open to rejoin the ambushed party. The prisoner, who had borne up stoically hitherto, collapsed with pain before they reached the wood; and John, alarmed lest his stratagem should be defeated at a moment when success seemed assured, set the man upon his back and ran into shelter. A few minutes afterwards he saw a line of men, headed by a Swahili in a white garment, come across the causeway from the fort, and turn to the right along the path leading to the bluff. John was tingling with excitement. All was going well: would his luck hold? The men's voices faded away in the distance. He gave them ten minutes; then bidding his men follow him closely, he ran down to the shore, and on to the causeway. As he expected, the bridge had been left spanning the gap in readiness for the laden safari. Waiting only to see that the men were close at his heels, John dashed over the last few feet, straight into the fort. A dozen men were squatting in a group about a small fire in the middle of the compound. They looked up as they heard the tread of men, but before they could spring to their feet, before, indeed, their slow minds suspected that anything was amiss, they were bowled over by the rush of twenty sturdy savages with a white man at their head, and lay in shaking terror on the ground, howling for mercy.

John had ordered his men to do no killing. They were surprised, but obeyed. Shouting for silence, he called to the panic-stricken garrison to march out of the fort. They sprang up and fled like a flock of terrified sheep, out of the gate and along the causeway, yelling as they ran. When the last was gone, and none but his own men were left in the place, John caught up the bridge and drew it in. The capture of the stronghold had taken three minutes.

CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH--Juma is Reinforced

Flushed with his bloodless victory, John ordered his men to make up the fire, and set two to watch at the gate; then, carrying a roughly-formed torch, he proceeded to an examination of the stronghold which was so imposing to the native imagination. It was a poor enough place estimated from a European point of view. It consisted simply of a circular space on a low mound about thirty yards in diameter, enclosed by a rude stone wall rather less than the height of a man. The island itself was an irregular oval. At the eastern end the wall came to within a foot or two of its shore; north and south the interval was little greater, the ground sloping steeply down to the edge of the pool. Westward it fell away less rapidly, though even here the angle was considerable. The island was no more than sixty yards at its greatest length, and from forty to fifty in breadth. The bridge sloped up from the end of the causeway to the gate, which was itself some feet lower than the ground within the fort. Just within it, on each side, a canoe was laid against the wall. Within the enclosure were a number of grass huts, set at intervals of a few yards apart.

Having surveyed the place as well as he could by the uncertain light of his torch, John searched the huts. He found in the largest of them, which he guessed to be Juma's, two of his rifles, a number of old muskets, a miscellaneous collection of cartridges, most of which would not fit the rifles, shot of all shapes and sizes, one or two old swords, and a curious assortment of articles, mostly useless, which Juma and his men had no doubt purloined when on safari. Among them were broken boots, a fancy waistcoat in tatters, several condensed milk tins, some pewter spoons, a field-glass case, and an empty whisky bottle. These things, valueless to a European, would be treasure untold to the natives, and John was glad that his promise of loot would not be nullified. There was also a fair quantity of grain food, but no meat.

"I think I'm a bit of a fool," said John to himself, when he had seen all there was to be seen. "What have I come for after all? I've got back our property, to be sure; but what then? I can't demolish the fort before Juma arrives. I can't go back at once, because the men couldn't stand it. It looks as if I shall have to hold the place, for a day at least; and if those beggars come up in any numbers and manage to cross the pool I shall be pretty hard put to it to defend a hundred yards of wall. Ah well! I'm in for it now. The best thing I can do is to get out as soon as possible."

He arranged for a watch to be kept up during the remainder of the night, and then threw himself down on the ground near the fire, not to sleep, for the negro is an untrustworthy sentry, but to turn things over in his mind. He remembered the store of ivory which Bill wished to recover, and would have been willing to help the old man; but when he considered the matter he concluded that it would be sheer lunacy to venture with his handful of men into the country of a tribe that had been strong enough to annihilate a large and well-armed Arab safari. There was no reason to suppose that the "bad men" were any less powerful now than they had been then.

"And suppose I got the ivory," he thought, "how the dickens could I carry it? The men have got quite enough to carry, what with the loot here and the things left with Charley. Judging by the weight of billiard balls a single tusk of ivory would be a pretty heavy load for two or three men, and we might be two or three weeks getting back. Bill will be upset, without a doubt, but I can't help that. A good rest, and then start for home: that's my ticket."

Pondering further, he came to the conclusion that there might after all not be the need for haste that he had at first imagined. Juma's men were thoroughly disheartened, no doubt; the garrison at the fort had been turned adrift; they had lost the greater part of their firearms and ammunition and all their stores of food, and it was probable that for the present they would have enough to do to find subsistence without wasting their energies in attacking either him or Ferrier. His own men had been marching or fighting, with only a few hours' sleep, for two days; a long rest was necessary for them; so he decided, before he fell into a half-doze from which the least sound would have roused him, that he might look forward to spending a day or two in the fort before he need set off to rejoin Ferrier.

At dawn he was up, and went to the gate to look round. None of the enemy were in sight, except his wounded prisoner, whom he saw hobbling across the causeway. In the excitement of the attack he had clean forgotten the man, who, he remembered with compunction, must have been all night in the wood, hungry, a prey to terror and pain. He let down the bridge and admitted him at once.

"Let me look at your leg," he said.

Removing the bandages, he saw that it was a case for desperate remedies.

"You must let me cut the bullet out," he said.

The man made no objection. John opened his knife and carefully washed the sharpest blade; then ordered two of the men to hold the patient, and began to probe the wound as gently as he could. The bullet was imbedded in the flesh where there was no danger of his severing an artery. He soon found the bullet, and setting his teeth, started the first surgical operation of his life. He had a steady hand: the man lay inert as a log, without wincing or even groaning; and in a few minutes he had extracted the bullet, feeling a vast admiration for the big fellow's fortitude. Having bathed and bound up the leg, he gave the man some food, and saw him in a few minutes fall asleep. John drew a good augury from this little incident. The man had sought him, and not his own master; John took it, perhaps superstitiously, as an indication that he, and not Juma, would, as he put it, "come out on top."

He sent out Bill, with one of the men, to look for the enemy. They returned early in the afternoon, reporting that they had failed to see either the men who had been ejected from the fort, or the larger party under Juma's command. Bill judged from the tracks that the former had scattered, some to the south to meet their friends, others to the east.

In the daylight John confirmed his overnight examination of the fort. He saw now that there were rapids at both ends of the pool, and sighed for leisure to do a little fishing, guessing that such a river would provide good sport. But he had something more serious to think about. After their night's rest the men were less fatigued than he had expected, so he saw no reason to defer the destruction of the fort. His purpose was to rase the wall, and hurl into the pool the stones of which it was built. They were piled loosely one upon another without cement or mortar, and he thought that it would be a light job to remove them; but it turned out to be a much more troublesome business than he had supposed, and when, after two hours' work, he saw how little had been accomplished he felt rather troubled. At the same rate it would take two or three days to complete the work. He had no gunpowder to spare for blowing up the wall; and he wished neither to remain so long absent from Ferrier, nor to be found on the spot when Juma returned, as he assuredly would do.

A little while after Bill had returned from his reconnoitring expedition he suddenly cocked his ear towards the south-east and in a moment declared that he heard the sound of fire-sticks. The men were chattering, and John fancied that the Wanderobbo must be mistaken. He called for silence, and all listened intently, but could hear nothing except the slow gurgle of the water in the pool and the far-away rumbling of the rapids below.

"Do you hear it now?" he asked.

"No," Bill replied; "but I did hear it."

John had by this time so much respect for the Wanderobbo's acuteness of hearing that he felt it unwise to neglect this statement. Bidding the men to sort out all the provisions the fort contained, with the idea of carrying a portion with him when he left, and burning the rest, he left the place with Bill, after giving strict orders that the bridge should be taken up behind him, and not replaced over the gap until his return, unless he should send back a message by Bill. The two crossed the pool and set off at a rapid pace towards the bluff. They were half-way to the summit when Bill declared that he again heard shots. They quickened their pace, and on reaching the top, where a wide expanse of the plain was outstretched before them, they looked carefully all round the southern horizon, keeping under cover. They could see the river winding along between its verdurous banks, and when they lost sight of the shining water they could still trace its course by the fresher green of the vegetation. The plain was covered for the most part with grass, with patches of scrub and clumps of woodland here and there. In the far distance they descried a herd of antelope feeding, but for some time saw no other living creature, beast or man.

All at once both started. In the still air, above the sound of the swirling water beneath them, they heard distinctly six shots. One of them, Bill declared, was that of the msungu's rifle, though John was utterly unable to understand how he could distinguish it from the others. Some seconds afterwards Bill lifted his hand and pointed in a south-easterly direction, saying that he saw smoke among the trees. John looked eagerly in the same direction, but could see nothing. Unluckily he had left his field-glass with Ferrier. Presently he heard more shots, in rapid succession. Clearly there was fighting going on; the natural inference was that Ferrier's party was engaged, and since only he, Coja, and Said Mohammed could use rifles, the number of the shots showed that his opponents must possess firearms. It was equally clear that Ferrier, if it was indeed he, had left the spot where it had been arranged that he should await John's return, and he must be either pursuing or pursued. The conclusion was irresistible that for some unforeseen reason he had found himself compelled to advance towards John.

Anxious on his friend's behalf, John decided instantly that he must set out at once to join hands with him. He sent Bill back to call the men from the fort, telling him that they must bring the ammunition and rifles for those who could use them. He himself would start towards the firing, pointing out to Bill the general direction in which he would go. He knew that the men, being rapid marchers when not carrying loads, would not be long in overtaking him. The fort must be left unguarded, but there was no help for it; the matter of immediate urgency was to reinforce Ferrier.

While Bill sped back to the fort, John scrambled down the bluff and hurried over the plain. As he proceeded the sounds of firing became ever clearer, and when he had covered about two miles at a swinging pace he could also hear shouts.

He had come almost to a thin belt of forest when he saw figures approaching among the trees. Dropping down behind a bush, he eagerly watched them. At the edge of the forest they came clearly into view, and he saw that they were black men, marching in single file, rapidly, in spite of heavy loads. From behind them came at short intervals the still louder crack of rifles, and the more voluminous shouts of men. In a few moments he recognized them as men of his safari, and rose to meet them. His figure suddenly appearing above the bush startled them, and they instantly dropped their loads with yells, and began to run away. But a shout from him dispelled their fright; they turned, and hastened towards him, leaving their loads, however, where they had thrown them.