Chapter THE TENTH: Driving Sheep to Market (7)

At one such gloomy patch the raft ran ashore upon a mud-bank projecting into the stream. Before Ferrier could pole it off, the second raft, borne on by the current, collided with it; there was a shock, John's raft spun round, and rocked so violently that the men yelled with fright. The attaching rope, however, pulled it up with a jerk, which had the effect of hauling the first raft off the bank. Their positions were now reversed; Said Mohammed was foremost down-stream, Ferrier last. It was obviously impossible that the voyage could be continued thus. John and Ferrier ran each to the forward end of his own raft.

"Run her ashore again," shouted Ferrier, "and let me swing clear."

John obeyed. He would not have shirked the task of leading, but Ferrier's experience might make all the difference between success and failure, and it was certainly not a time to run any avoidable risks. Some minutes passed before he managed to strike the bank, and then the raft crashed against the projecting stem of a tree with a violence that threw John on to his back. Up in an instant, he clutched a branch just in time to prevent the raft from drifting away, and held on until Ferrier had passed in mid-stream, and the vessels had regained their former order. During this interlude nothing was heard of the enemy. The banks of the river were fortunately too steep and too densely wooded to allow their access.

For a little while all went well. Where the banks were low and free from tall trees the level rays of the rising moon threw a faint light upon the water, enabling Ferrier to use his pole with more confidence. But on entering a narrower reach where the trees came down to the water's edge, the sudden passage from comparative light to absolute darkness prevented him from seeing a rocky ledge jutting out from the right bank. The raft scraped it for a few feet, then stuck fast. The second raft, coming directly in its wake, did not this time sweep by, but bumped the first, and both were now end to end on the rock. The most energetic work with the poles failing to dislodge them, John said--

"Let's have a rest. There's no sign of the enemy, and I'm desperately hungry."

"That's all very well," replied Ferrier, "but the longer we delay the worse off we shall be presently. It gives the enemy time to get ahead of us, and they'll be waiting for us at the pool. I rather fancy they've already outstripped us by cutting across country; the river winds a good deal."

"All the same, we shan't be any the better off for being famished when we meet them. Besides, I want to talk to you; we haven't settled what we're going to do."

"Very well; we'll have a tuck-in. What's the time? My match-box is empty."

John struck a match. His watch had stopped.

"The spring must have broken when I toppled over," he said. "Isn't yours going?"

"It hasn't been going for a couple of days. We can't tell how far we've come. How is our direction?"

"We're pointing north-west," replied John, after a glance at his compass. "There must be a big curve here. I fancy we must have just about got to the place where Bill and I launched our raft. If so, it will be getting light by the time we reach the pool. What do you think of doing then?"

"That depends on the look of things when we get there. How long are the rapids?"

"About half-a-mile, I should think."

"Any rocks?"

"Upon my word I don't know. I was too anxious about holding on to notice. But judging from the battering we got I should say plenty."

"Then the safest course would be to unload the rafts when we get to the head of the rapids and make a portage--carry the things along the bank until we come to the pool. We can't do that if the enemy are in force. We shall simply have to shoot the rapids and take our chance."

"I'm sorry for us. If my little raft was nearly smashed, what condition will these clumsy things be in when we get through!"

"Well, I can only do my best. Left to themselves they'd be smashed up in no time, but if I can manage to steer clear of the rocks we may get through. It won't be safe to go roped together, though. You had better moor yours while I take down the first; then I'll go ashore and come back for you."

"Rather dangerous, that, if the enemy are about."

"Perhaps. But I'm inclined to think they'll wait for us lower down. In that case I should be back before they could catch me. But really it's not much good settling on anything until we see how the land lies. The most important thing will be to take care we are not caught in the rapids before we know it. If we are, we can only let ourselves go and trust to luck."

After a delay of nearly an hour, during which the whole party made a meal of the fruits they had brought with them, they strove again to pole the rafts off the rock. The task was an impossible one while the vessels were so heavily laden. Accordingly the breastwork was removed from the shoreward side of each, and a portion of the goods was conveyed to the bank. Thus lightened, the rafts were got off by vigorous poling, and allowed to drift a few yards down-stream until they came once more into the moonlight. Then they were run into the bank and moored while the stores were fetched and the breastwork replaced. This took up a considerable time, and it could no longer be doubted that the enemy, unless they had halted, must arrive at the pool long before the rafts.

As the moon rose higher in the sky the voyage became easier, and it was continued without incident until there were signs that day was breaking. Feeling sure that the rapids could not be far ahead, Ferrier steered into the right bank, followed by John.

"I must take a look round before we go any farther," said Ferrier. "I don't hear anything of the enemy; perhaps they are behind us after all."

He set off alone, making his way cautiously among the trees. It seemed hours before he returned, in almost broad daylight.

"We're in for it," he said as he came up. "We're within six hundred yards of the rapids. I went on round the curve until I got a view of the pool. The fort is manned. Juma must have got well ahead of us and crossed the river somewhere. But I don't think the others have arrived on the scene yet."

"Have they left nobody on the right bank?"

"Nobody at all. They're very poor tacticians. I suppose they rely on our being smashed up in the rapids, and think they'll have us at their mercy. They ought to have held both banks. It gives us a chance. We may have time for a portage, but only to the pool. We can't hope to get past the second rapids on land; but as we shall be hidden from the enemy until we actually come to the pool, there ought to be time to load up again there before they can get round to us."

"What then?"

"We shall have to shoot the second rapids in the rafts just as we are. Can't stop for another portage. From my recollection as we came up past the gorge, they're much longer and swifter than the first, besides being straighter and less rocky. I had a good look at the first as I went down the bank. There's a nasty bit about half-way through: a narrow channel between two irregular lines of sunken rocks. But it's no worse than the Long Saut on the St. Lawrence; not so bad, indeed; and I'm going to run through all right. The only doubt I have is whether we can get to the second rapids before the enemy occupy the bluff above the gorge."

"If we can't----!"

"We shall have the pleasure of being targets for at least ten minutes for bullets and arrows and stones. But we must just go through with it now; there's no retreat for us. Now we'll unload my raft and send the men along with the ivory. When we've given them time to get half-way to the pool, I'll go down with the raft."

"Alone?"

"Yes. It won't do for you to come, and leave the men, in case they're attacked; and I don't think any of them would be much help to me. Coja and two or three of the askaris can escort the convoy. We must make 'em understand they are to wait for me when they get to the pool; unless, indeed, I'm there first: the current is pretty swift."

"There's bush enough to hide them, but you're bound to be spotted from the fort as soon as you get to the end of the rapids."

"It will take Juma a long time to get round with his men."

"But they can swim it!"

"They won't! They can't attack us when swimming, and they'll be afraid of getting their heads broken against the raft."

During this conversation the men had already begun the work of unloading the first raft. The breastwork on the right-hand side was removed, and the ivory conveyed tusk by tusk to the bank. Enough was left at the rear to balance Ferrier's weight at the forward end. When all was ready, the men set off with their loads, Coja and two askaris with rifles going ahead.

"Get your raft unloaded while I'm gone, old chap," said Ferrier. "In fact, the men had better start with it straight away; if Juma has the sense to come round at once to meet us it'll be a very near thing to get loaded up again."

"All right. I'll go with them myself and leave a couple of men to guard the raft."

"On second thoughts I think you had better go after the first lot at once. Everything depends on their keeping under cover until I arrive with the raft, and you know how rash they are. Go and keep an eye on them. I'll see to the unloading here and send the men after you."

Accordingly John hurried in the track of the ivory-carriers, whom he overtook by the time they reached the head of the rapids. Leading them carefully through the wood, where they would be invisible to any of the enemy who might be moving along on the other side of the river, he came opposite to the point where the rapids entered the pool. There he ordered them to set down their loads, and sent Bill back to guide the second party over the same course.

Ferrier had resolved not to begin his adventurous voyage until all the men were gathered under John at the head of the pool. The actual passage of the rapids would take but a minute or two, and the time necessary for reloading the first raft would be halved if the whole party were employed in the work. The second convoy having arrived, John left them safely under cover while he retraced his steps for a short distance to a spot where he could witness his friend's performance. He held his breath and felt his skin creep as the raft came into view, shooting down at a furious rate to what appeared certain destruction. Ferrier had removed the upper part of the framework, and stood with pole in hand, bending low, his whole attention fixed on his task. Now he prodded to the right, now to the left: at one moment the raft swerved, having evidently scraped a rock, and he almost lost his balance; but recovering himself instantly, he dexterously slipped his pole over in the direction to which the raft had been driven, and came again into mid-current. John feared lest he should be carried far into the pool, beyond the spot where the loads were laid; but when the raft came into smooth water, and its momentum was checked, Ferrier flung a rope to the shore, and the craft, uninjured except for some chips at the edges, was hauled in.

"Splendid!" said John. "It would be a stunning sport if----"

But before he could complete the sentence Ferrier was running hard up-stream. There was a shout from the fort; the raft had been discovered; the second raft was still to be brought down. John instantly set the men to load up the first raft. Every movement was visible to the men in the fort. There were loud shouts; a few shots were fired; but the range was too long for inefficient marksmen. To John's consternation and alarm there came an echo to these shouts from up-stream. The warriors from the village were evidently within striking distance. Had they discovered Ferrier? Urging the men to hasten with the work of loading, he ran along the bank to see whether the second raft was on the way. Yes; it was sweeping down like the first, and on the opposite bank a crowd of yelling negroes rushed along, dodging the trees, and trying to keep pace. Ferrier paid no attention to them, his whole energy absorbed in his task. John sent a warning shot among the enemy, and they darted out of sight. The raft leapt and dashed and jolted down, and in little more than a minute after it passed John it lay moored beside the other at the shore of the pool.

The men having not yet finished the loading of the first raft, Ferrier had leisure to observe what the enemy were about. The warriors from the village, who had marched along the left bank of the river, were rushing round the northern shore of the pool towards the causeway. It was impossible to see what they would do when they reached it, and, to judge by the uproar in the fort, there was more excitement than cool calculation among Juma's party. But by the time the rafts were loaded, the breastworks replaced, and the ropes attached, the enemy's intention became clear. Before the rafts were loosed from their moorings and poled into the gentle current of the pool, a large number of negroes, with one or two Swahilis, emerged into view from behind the intervening island, and were seen hastening along the path which led from the causeway up the bluff.

"They've got a good start of us," Ferrier called from the leading raft. "We must run the gauntlet."

But now that the critical moment had arrived, John was setting his wits to work. In all the encounters with the enemy hitherto, success had been gained by the exercise of superior intelligence rather than superior force. Was there not a chance of outwitting them even now at the eleventh hour? Could they not be withdrawn from their threatening position above the gorge? An idea suggested itself: to let the rafts drift on until they came opposite the fort, and then to change their direction and pole them across the pool as if with the intention of landing on the western shore of the island and storming the fort. If the ruse succeeded, the enemy would rush back and swarm within the walls again.

John imparted his scheme to Ferrier in a few hurried sentences.

"It's worth trying," said Ferrier, "but can we get back into the current in time?"

"Yes; it begins to flow swifter, as you know, opposite the island. If only the men are drawn back into the fort, we shall have time to come back into the current and make straight for the rapids, and then they may run their hardest but won't overtake us."

"Well, you pole back first, so as not to change our order. They surely won't be such idiots!"

The rafts passed slowly along, hailed with derisive yells from the few men left in the fort, and by a shower of arrows, which flew harmlessly over the breastworks, the men having all lain down as before. Then suddenly they ceased to move; but in a few moments started ponderously in the reverse direction. John and Ferrier had exchanged places with their two steersmen, and while they poled on the bottom in the manner of punters, Coja and Said Mohammed thrust their poles into the water at an angle which would bring the rafts round to the western end of the island. It was exceedingly hard work to force the heavy vessels against the current, slight though that was; but they did move slowly, away from the gorge, and that was enough for the defenders of the fort. Alarmed at the prospect of having to repel an assault from the wasungu, they shouted vociferously to their fellows on the shore to return and help them.

"It's working!" cried John in delight. "I only wish we could see round the island. We shall have to guess when it's time to be off."

But there was little chance of their being left in ignorance of the enemy's movements. The din was tremendous, far and near. Soon the uproar within the fort increased, and men were seen swarming on to the edges of the western wall, some scrambling over and running down the slope to meet the expected attack. The situation of the rafts was too close to be pleasant to their occupants. Arrows flew over and between them, some sticking in the meshes of the breastwork. The men flat on the decks of the rafts were out of harm's way; but the two white men and their assistants were partly exposed to the flying missiles, since they could not manage the clumsy rafts unless they stood nearly upright. For some minutes they cruised along the shore, as if seeking a convenient landing-place, until they were screened from the enemy by the fringe of trees. At last, having allowed sufficient time for the greater part of the enemy's force to regain the fort, or at least the causeway, John and Ferrier again changed places with Said Mohammed and Coja, and began to pole vigorously in the opposite direction. Being hidden by the trees, the rafts, helped by the current, had gained some speed before the change of direction was perceived. Even then the meaning of it did not at once strike the enemy. Those who had come down to the shore ran back to the fort; those within manned the southern and eastern parts of the wall, anticipating an assault at the spot where it had been partially demolished. But the rafts were increasing their distance from the island; they were also increasing their speed; and as they were now heading straight for the mouth of the gorge Juma at last recognized how he had been duped.

The voyagers were now in full view of the causeway. It was covered with men returning at a run to the fort. But Juma, the moment he saw his mistake, hastened to the gate and shouted to the men to right-about and make for the gorge. The causeway was too long for his words to be heard distinctly at the shore end, and there was a minute's confusion among the negroes before they grasped what was intended--a precious minute to the voyagers, for at the end of it the rafts were swept into the full current. When the men on the causeway, yelling with rage, at last set off to run back to the shore, John saw with a leaping heart that they were too late. A few of the enemy who had not yet reached the causeway when the retirement was countermanded, rushed along the shore and came level with the rafts as these began the descent of the rapids. But they had to run uphill: the speed of the current was at least fifteen miles an hour; before they could gain the summit of the bluff the rafts would be a mile or more downstream.

As John's raft was swept along in the wake of Ferrier's, he wondered whether the rafts, when they reached the end of the rapids, would be in splinters, and the men battered corpses. When he had shot the upper rapids with Bill, the darkness had concealed the full extent of his peril; but now in broad daylight it was brought alarmingly home to him. Ferrier's raft was swinging before him, and John heard his shouts as he instructed Coja how to move his pole for steering. John stuck to his post, almost at his wit's end, but trying desperately to follow in Ferrier's wake, and shouting instructions to Said Mohammed, who steered accordingly.

All at once he saw with terror a large rock almost in midstream, over which the water swirled and dashed with clouds of spray. He felt that nothing could avert disaster. Ferrier was safely past; John, grasping his pole, cried to the Bengali to steer to the right. The rock seemed to approach him with terrible speed; in a moment the raft would surely be dashed against it and shivered to splinters. But the force of the current, and a timely thrust of the pole--how he made it in time John could never understand--carried the raft clear of the barrier. John's shove was indeed more vigorous than was necessary, for it swung the stern of the raft partly across the current, and caused it to scrape the edge of the rock, with a jar that sent John and the Indian headlong among the men who lay on the deck. There was a howl of dismay, and John sprang up, expecting to find himself whirling to destruction. But to his unspeakable relief he saw that the perilous voyage was over. The raft had shot clear of the gorge, and was floating with almost oily smoothness on the river below the escarpment.

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIFTH--The Fight in the Swamp

"By George!" cried John, breathless, as he poled his raft up to Ferrier's, "I don't think I could have faced it if I had known what to expect."

"You did famously," said Ferrier, laughing. "I was afraid you'd come a cropper on that rock. How are your men? Mine are positively sea-sick."

"I didn't give them a thought. They'll be all right now, at any rate. Coja stuck to his job gamely, and so did Said Mohammed. We'll have to do something for them when we get home."

"Do you think we have seen the last of Juma's lot now?"

"Surely they'll have had enough of it by this time?"

"But if your guess is correct, the fellow has missed the aim of his life in losing the ivory. If I were in his place I'd certainly have another try. The current is getting slower and slower; they could easily outstrip us on the bank."

"That might be awkward for us. We don't know anything about the river a few miles down-stream. There may be more rapids. And look: d'you see men coming over the bluff behind us?"

"Yes, swarming like ants. Evidently they mean to chase us, and they'll catch us in an hour at this rate. We had better try punting."

The rate of the current here was probably not more than two or two and a half miles an hour. Vigorous poling increased the speed of the rafts slightly, but they were too heavy to move above a walking pace. A bend in the river hid the pursuers from view. When next seen they were considerably nearer.

"We could get on faster if the men walked," said Ferrier. "Let us land them on the right bank. The enemy appear to be all on the left, and we can take them in again if they come to too close quarters."

The suggestion seemed a good one, and was quickly put in effect. The men, who had had a fright and thorough drenching, were glad enough to stretch their legs on dry land again, and the rafts, relieved of their weight, responded more readily to the sturdy thrusts of the poles. Again the enemy were hidden, but catching sight of them presently through the trees, John cried--

"I say, they are cutting off to their left. The river makes another bend, I suppose, and they're going to post themselves before we arrive."

"I only hope the bank isn't high," said Ferrier. "If it is they can fire down on us, and the mischief is, we can't reply and attend to the rafts as well. Hadn't we better chuck the ivory into the river and take our own things and make a bolt for it?"

"Not I," said John. "I don't like the idea of skedaddling at all, and I'm not going to lose the ivory now. That would bring Juma out on top, and he could crow over us after all."

"There's a good deal of obstinacy in you, John," said Ferrier, smiling. "We shall have to fight, and I shouldn't be surprised if our hottest time is yet to come."

They went steadily down the river, the men keeping pace with them as closely as possible, though the nature of the ground caused them sometimes to leave the bank and march at a considerable distance from it. For nearly two hours, as they guessed, they did not catch a single glimpse of the enemy, and hoped that they had tired of the pursuit. But presently they had reason to suspect that they were not to be allowed to escape so easily. The river spread out into a kind of swamp, apparently almost half-a-mile in breadth. About half that distance ahead it was studded with small wooded islands, and Ferrier, who was still leading, was puzzled as to which of the channels into which the stream was divided was the safest to attempt. The enemy were not in sight, but from somewhere ahead came the sound of chopping wood.

"What are they up to?" said John.

"Can't tell. Making a boma perhaps. Don't you think we had better take the men on board before we get fairly into the swamp? If the enemy are hidden on those islands we had better have them with us."

John hailed the marching men, who came at his call and were soon ensconced on the rafts again. They punted along, looking ahead warily for signs of the enemy. The current became more and more sluggish, and there was at times scarcely enough water to float the rafts, now again weighted by their passengers. Ferrier scanned the river in search of a practicable channel. In the channels on the left he saw mud-banks rising just above the surface. A wider channel to the right, about twenty yards broad, gave the best promise of a safe passage, and towards this he steered. While still some distance from it, however, he saw some figures emerge from the wooded island on the left, wade hurriedly across, and enter a similar wood on the right bank of the river, both the island and the bank being here slightly above the level of the water. The greater number of the waders were negroes, but among them were the white-clad forms of Swahilis.

"This is nasty," said John. "We can't go back."

"Nor forward either, except at a snail's pace," said Ferrier. "Confound it! We're stuck again. Look out, John: I'm on a mud-bank. Pull up till I'm free."

By dint of energetic poling he managed to get his raft clear. John avoided the obstacle by slightly changing his course.

"All we can do," he said, "is to push on as fast as we can and trust to the breastwork. The worst of it is, the men can't defend themselves without exposing their heads to the enemy's fire."

"Yes they can, if they make loopholes," replied Ferrier. "Set 'em to cut some; we were idiots not to do it before."

The rafts were still about eighty yards from the island. Their course was checked while the men hastily cut loopholes in the breastwork on each side, at which they posted themselves with their weapons; then the white men drove the rafts forward as swiftly as the shallow water permitted. The enemy had again totally disappeared. But just as Ferrier's raft entered the channel between the island and the bank, there was a shout, and a boom of logs was drawn rapidly across, completely blocking the passage. The sound of chopping was explained.

The moment he saw the obstruction, Ferrier strove to increase the speed of the raft, in the hope of breaking through. There was a jolt and a crash, but the boom held, and instantly with ferocious yells the enemy on both sides let fly a shower of arrows mingled with a few rifle-shots at the occupants of the raft. These, kneeling at the breastworks, replied as well as they could through the loopholes; but they suffered two disadvantages: while they were exposed to the missiles of the enemy behind them, and on a higher level, the enemy themselves were concealed among the trees and brushwood. Cries of pain proclaimed that several had been hit, and Ferrier, turning for a moment to seize his rifle, received an arrow in his right shoulder. In an instant he wrenched it out: there was no time to think of wounds.

Meanwhile John had poled his raft somewhat to the left of the other, to try in his turn to break through the boom. Like Ferrier, he failed. The rafts were now ranged alongside, and John's men became exposed to the deadly hail from the island.

"We must either cut the boom or run for it," he said, gaining what shelter he could from the breastwork.

"Impossible!" returned Ferrier. "We've no axes. Knives are no good. The logs are three deep. Any one who tried to cut the lashings would be killed, to a certainty."

"I'll try and rush the island, then. You keep the others at bay."

"I'll do my best."

John ordered his men to lie down, and rapidly explained to them what he meant to do. Then, with a few vigorous thrusts of his pole, he drove the raft against the bank. As it touched, a bullet passed through his helmet. He dropped his pole, seized a rifle with his left hand and a revolver with his right, and calling to the men, leapt over the breastwork on to the island. The men followed him with a yell, all but Said Mohammed, whom he had ordered to remain and prevent the raft from drifting away.

As they swarmed up the bank, they were met by a shower of missiles. Two or three men fell; an arrow grazed John's cheek; but the suddenness of the attack had taken the enemy by surprise. Those who had rifles had no time to reload before their assailants were among them. Discharging his revolver at the nearest man, John dashed straight forward, smiting left and right with his clubbed rifle, the men hacking with their knives and jabbing with their spears. The enemy had thought rather of obtaining good cover from which to attack than of sustaining a hand-to-hand fight. John's men, emboldened by his example, followed close upon his heels. For a few moments a fierce scrimmage raged among the trees. Then the enemy gave way, turned tail, and, rushing across the narrow island, splashed through the shallow water that separated it from the next. Here they stood and faced about, as if to show fight again; but when they saw John and his little band springing after them they lost heart and fled, racing over the second island and the channel dividing it from the left bank of the river, and never halting until they gained firm ground a hundred yards away.

Meanwhile John had become aware by the uproar behind him that a fierce conflict was in progress there. He could not delay to see whether the enemy he had put to flight would return, but rushed back to the assistance of Ferrier. What he saw filled him with alarm and dismay. The main body of the enemy, several hundreds strong, and led by Juma himself, had swarmed out from the trees and shrubs among which they had been concealed, and after discharging their weapons, were wading through the river to attack Ferrier's raft. The channel was black with them, yelling, brandishing spears and rifles, a few still shooting their arrows as they plunged through the water. Some had run along the boom, and at the moment when John returned were trying to leap over the breastwork on to the raft. Some had come round on the other side and were attempting to tear down the breastwork. Ferrier was laying about him doughtily with his clubbed rifle; Coja at the further end of the raft was doing the same; and the rest of the men were darting here and there, striking the heads of the negroes in the river, or prodding with their spears at those on the boom.

But the numbers of the enemy were so overwhelming that John feared that nothing could now save the day. Said Mohammed in his agitation had allowed his raft to drift away from the island into the stream, and a rush was immediately made towards it. John sprang on to the boom, and ran with all speed to Ferrier's help, his men close behind. Catching a big negro by the throat, he hurled him off the boom into the water, jumped the breastwork, and came to Ferrier's side just as he staggered and fell with a spear wound in the thigh. The arrival of John's party checked the assault for a moment, but meanwhile the enemy had clambered into his raft, overthrowing Said Mohammed, and the current brought it once more against the boom. The little party was now surrounded. One after another fell. Two men, a Swahili and a negro, had at last broken through the defence and gained a footing on Ferrier's raft. John felled the Swahili with a sledge-hammer blow of his rifle; the negro was killed with a thrust from Bill's knife. But while these first invaders were thus disposed of, others had forced their way on to the raft, and before John could recover himself, a spear was driven through his arm and he was hustled to the deck.

There was a yell of triumph from the enemy. But all at once, above the uproar there came the sharp crackle of rifles, followed by a ringing cheer. Juma, who was at that moment in the act of springing from the boom into the raft, halted for a second, and turned to discover the origin of these new sounds. He saw, on the right bank of the river, not two hundred yards away, a party of mounted white men, riding at a gallop towards him. For an instant he hesitated. While his back was towards the raft, Bill, with an agility amazing in a man of his years, leapt the breastwork, knife in hand, and hurled himself upon the Swahili. Both together, they fell into the river. Juma was undermost. For an instant they disappeared beneath the surface. Bill never relaxed his grip. When they emerged, he plunged his knife up to the haft in the Swahili's throat; then flung his enemy from him. Juma was dead. So he expiated the cruelties and tyrannies of many years, at the hands of a member of the tribe which had suffered most wrong.

While this tragedy was being enacted, the riders came to the brink of the stream, and ten rifles sped their bullets among the swarm of black men. Again the air rang with a British cheer. With screams of pain, yells of consternation and affright, the enemy broke and fled, some towards the island, some scrambling up-stream, those who were in the rafts plunging into the water and swimming in all directions. And John, rising to his feet, beheld his father and Mr. Gillespie, and eight men whom he did not recognize, and waving his rifle aloft with his uninjured arm, he answered cheer with cheer.

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SIXTH--Back to the Farm

One morning, about a month after the fight in the swamp, John was sitting at the table in his bungalow, a paper outspread before him, a pencil in his hand, and Said Mohammed standing at his elbow.

"We must have it all first-rate, you know," he said.

"Quite up to dick, sir; you may rely on me."

"Well now, _hors d'oeuvres_--I think we might do without that."

"With respect, sir, _hors d'oeuvres_ is _sine qua non_--correct card, sir, foundation of the _comme il faut_."

"All right, then; stick down sardines: we've got a tin. Now _potage_--why the dickens don't you put it in English, khansaman?"

"The English tongue, sir, is great and glorious instrument, but too gross for refinements of culinary art. Soup!--listen to it--soup! disgusting monosyllable, sir, resembling hiccough. Contrast with the delicate vocables of French."

"Well, what shall the _potage_ be?"

"Clear, sir, for the ladies, _consomme a la Wanderobbo_."

"What on earth is that?"

"I beg you, sir, not to insist on answer," said the Bengali gravely. "Thick, for masculine gender: Scotch broth, concession to prejudices of great nation."

"That's all right. What's next? _Poissons_! That looks fishy. Take care you don't drop an _s_. What fish can we do?"

"Coja hooked quantity of finny tribe which, with due sauce, may pass for trout."

"Now for _entrees_."

"The partridges you shot yesterday, sir, are in prime condition. I suggest _perdrix a la Swahili_. For _releve_ I propose----"

"I say, we'll drop that. Let's come to a good honest roast. Shoulder of lamb, say--but we can't manage mint sauce. There's no vinegar."

"With respect, sir, in intelligent anticipation I provide for that. I put quantity of Bill's honey in ferment, and made acidulous liquid passable imitation of vinegar; pious fraud."

"Plenty of vegetables, of course."

"_Croquettes de pomme de terre, choux-fleurs a la Lulu, topinambours a la creme_."

"Look here, I can't spell that crack-jaw. What, in plain English, are _topinambours_?"

"In vulgar tongue, sir, Jerusalem artichokes; but you will agree that final syllable of artichokes is ominous and forbidding, especially to ladies."

"Well, I've had enough of it. Finish the menu yourself. I've no doubt everything will be all right."

John went out and strolled round the farm. It presented a different appearance: four or five new wooden huts, neatly thatched, erected for the accommodation of the visitors expected, stood near the bungalow. John was at present the only white man on the farm, Mr. Halliday having returned to Nairobi with the rest of the rescue-party to make some purchases, and Ferrier to meet his sister and get attention to his wounded thigh. The evening before, a messenger had come in advance, to announce that the visitors would arrive next day: Mr. Halliday was returning with Mrs. Burtenshaw, her family, and the Ferriers. Said Mohammed was determined "to do credit to the establishment," as he put it; he would show the guests "that the resources of civilization were not dead letter in African wilds."

As the day drew on, John became restless. He had the floor of the bungalow scrubbed twice; set Lulu to scour the pans in the dairy for the third time; and got Coja to cut his hair. He was in some agitation of mind as to what he should wear. He looked out a white shirt, collar, and tie, and a suit of clothes he had not worn since he left England. His unaccustomed fingers struggled with his collar-stud until he was in despair, and when he had knotted his tie he found that he had no clips, and the wretched thing threatened to ride up to his chin.

He was standing at the door of the bungalow, thus arrayed, and feeling ridiculously got up, when he saw Ferrier galloping up on a pony.

"Hallo, old chap!" shouted his friend. "The others are about half-an-hour behind. Thought I would ride ahead and prepare you. What have you been doing to yourself?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, don't mind what I say, but you look a bit of a guy, you know. Your coat's too tight, and your waistcoat too short: are they the things you wore at school? Your tie's wriggling round to your ear; and your trousers display a good deal of ankle--d'you know that you've got on odd socks?"

"Hang it all, Charley, what shall I do? I've got nothing else but khaki and drill, and I can't show up in those."

"Don't see why. The women won't expect to find Bond Street fashions here, and if you'll take my tip you'll tumble out of those things as soon as possible, and rig up in your usual toggery."

"You really think they won't mind?"

"Of course not. Hurry up; you'll just have time."

John dashed off with a feeling of unutterable relief. He pitched his tie and collar into a corner, crushed his suit into a drawer, regardless of creases, and in ten minutes reappeared in flannel shirt and clean white drill, feeling at ease.

In less than half-an-hour the party arrived, six in all, Mr. Gillespie having accompanied them. Their safari was still some miles in the rear.

"How d'you do, John?" said the elder lady, as he helped her to dismount. "I am Mrs. Burtenshaw--still!"

John felt himself blushing.

"I know you as Cousin Sylvia, ma'am," he said.

"We'll be great friends, I'm sure. You know Joe and Poll; this is Helen. Hilda, come and be introduced to my long-lost nephew. Regard me as your favourite aunt, my dear boy. Tell me," she whispered, "is that fat smiling gentleman in white your failed B.A.?"

"That's he: cook, khansaman, and major-domo. Said Mohammed, escort the ladies to their rooms."

The Bengali approached, bowing to each in turn.

"Esteemed madam and misses," he said, "deign to direct your footsteps to humble abode, or, as William Cowper beautifully says, your lodge in vast wilderness, with boundless contiguity of shade."

The ladies preserved an admirable composure, and retired to the huts assigned to them.

"Now, John," said Mrs. Burtenshaw, when they reappeared, "you must show us round this wonderful farm of yours. It looks very tidy, I must say. But where are your sheep? I thought you had hundreds, and there aren't fifty in that pen."

"They're out at grass, cousin; you'll see them come in by and by. There really isn't much to see, you know. Cabbages and artichokes--'m; _topinambours_ is the name for ladies, says my cook--they're just the same, here and at home. If you'd come a few months later, now, I might have shown you some zebras. I'm going to try and tame some."

"Ah yes! I remember you threatened to meet your father on a striped charger, to match his striped trousers.... Who's that funny-looking little object?"

"That's Bill, scout and huntsman, and a millionaire, as things are reckoned here. Come and see his ivory."

"You're a very rash and headstrong boy. The idea of going miles and miles after a set of thieves! I wonder you're alive. A pretty settler, indeed!"

"Well, cousin, I dare say I shall settle down now, with father to keep me in order. You see, we couldn't have felt secure if----"

"Don't tell me! You're just a madcap; if you were my son I should be in constant terror lest you were brought home one day a mangled corpse."

"Look, mother," said Helen, "isn't it a pretty sight?"

The lambs were coming home, a great flock, covering the hollow between two gentle slopes. Their bleatings, heard faintly at first, became a deafening noise as they neared the farm. The observers noticed how they quickened their pace as they approached. Within the pen the ewes moved restlessly about, bleating calls to their young. When the lambs entered through the gate, they leapt forward frisking with delight, darted into the open pen, and sprang this way and that, each seeking its own dam.

"Charming!" said Mrs. Burtenshaw. "What a pity sheep are so silly! Now take us to your dairy."

----

Said Mohammed's cookery won general applause.

"I envy you, Halliday," said Mr. Gillespie. "He's worth his fifty rupees a month, isn't he?"

"You don't have a dinner like this every day, I'm sure, John--French menu and all," said Mrs. Burtenshaw. "I should like the recipe for that _consomme a la Wanderobbo_."

"What is _a la Wanderobbo_?" asked Helen.

"I don't know," replied John. "That little old man you saw just now is one of the Wanderobbo tribe."

"Good gracious! I hope he had nothing to do with the soup. He looked--well, not scrupulously clean."

"No, no," said John, laughing. "He had no more to do with the soup than Lulu had with the cauliflowers--unless she cut them. Talking of Bill, Mr. Gillespie, what are we to do about his ivory? It has been his dream for years to recover it, but when we got back he made me a present of it."

"Just like a man," said Mrs. Burtenshaw. "You'll struggle all your life and wear yourselves out for some ridiculous thing, and when you get it don't know what to do with it."

"It's what you do that counts, not what you get," remarked Mr. Halliday: "or as our failed B.A. said when we met him first, it is work that ennobles. But about the ivory?"

"Well," said Mr. Gillespie judicially, "I'm not sure but it belongs to the Government."

"I don't see that," said Joe Browne. "The Government did nothing for it. Didn't do anything for you, either. I'd stick to it if I were you, John. What will it fetch?"

"Five or six hundred pounds, I should think," said Mr. Gillespie.

"I wish it were mine," said Oliver. "Mother keeps me plaguey short."

"I'd thought of a scheme that would be pretty fair all round," said John. "Bill was the owner, and he gave it to me. He wants to stay on the farm. Well, I propose to build him a new hut and set him up with new weapons: that will make him comfortable for life. Then old Sobersides has been very decent. His men behaved like bricks, and we certainly couldn't have got it without their help. We might give them some bushels of beads and loads of wire and blankets and other things they value. They may seem trumpery to us, but they're untold wealth to the natives."

"And then?" said Mrs. Burtenshaw.

"Well, perhaps Charley and I might share the rest."

"Nonsense!" said Ferrier. "It's yours."

"And we'll share it. We shared everything else. Don't be selfish, Charley."

Everybody laughed, and it was ultimately settled that the ivory should be sent to Nairobi, where Mr. Gillespie promised to get the best possible price for it.

Here Said Mohammed came in with coffee. When he had handed round the cups he lingered.

"Don't wait, khansaman," said John. "We'll manage now. Every one was delighted with your dinner."

"I am repaid a thousandfold, sir. Not to intrude, sir, I have trifling communication to make."

"What is it?"

"Native chief, sir, did me honour to request I would convey thanks of self and co. for immense and colossal benefits conferred."

"Oh, that's all right. He thanked me himself, long ago."

"_Festina lente_, sir. Reflecting on said petition, I deemed the circs. worthy of more formal commemoration than perfunctory acknowledgement. Wherefore and accordingly I scorn delights and live laborious days in inditing few lines pat to the occasion, which with august permission I will now proceed to chuck off chest."

The two girls made suspicious use of their handkerchiefs; Joe Browne kicked Ferrier under the table; and Oliver, choking over his coffee, accused Mr. Halliday of smoking very strong cigars. John and the elder members of the party preserved their gravity, though it was in a curiously constrained tone that John asked the Bengali to favour the company. With a smile of gratification Said Mohammed unrolled a scroll of paper, and, looking round to make sure that every one was attending, began in his high-pitched voice--

Hear me tell a moving story, chronicled in lofty rhyme,
Redolent of stripling's glory, monument to end of time.
Idol of my veneration, you I celebrate in song;
Ornament of British nation, you I crack up, hot and strong.

To begin at the beginning: When one day, at usual pace,
Our oblate spheroid was spinning through an awful lot of space,
You, an up-to-date Orion, Enfield rifle in your hand,
Did for most obnoxious lion, holy terror in the land.

Next, predaceous gang, Swahilis--Juma, if you please, and Co.,--
Prowling, slippery as eel is, on the rampage to and fro,
Depredated native village, spreading woe and dire alarm,
Then for more important pillage fell like ton of bricks on farm.

Faithful servant, Said Mohammed, feeling anything but bold,
Like a bleating orphan lamb hid, sniffing wolves within the
fold;
While despoilers collared rifles, ammunition, shell and shot;
Item, sundry piffling trifles which the poet has forgot.

Minions of a base levanter, villains of the deepest dye,--
You are after them instanter, lightning flashing from your eye;
Swoop upon them in their slumbers, catch them fairly on the hop,
Though inferior in numbers, smite them hip and thigh and crop.

Terrified by dire disaster, they make hurry-scurry flight.
Yoicks! our whipper-in goes faster, helter-skelter day and
night,
Till dark citadel is sighted, wall-encircled, likewise moat.
Is prodigious effort blighted? Not at all: we simply gloat.

Roberts' grit and Caesar's clear eye--honestly, you have them
both.
'Fas est ab hoste doceri,' august Roman general quoth:
Taking leaf from book of Juma, you perpended ruse de guerre,
And with dodgy slimness you manoeuvred brigands from their lair.

Penned within restricted compass, you repel the fierce attack,
Calm amid most awful rumpus: things are looking very black.
Lo! in thickest of the slaughter, one sees chance of chipping
in,
And with can of boiling water stems the tide and scores a win.

Threat of famine, grisly spectre, makes us look a little blue;
But our commonwealth's protector, launching forth in bark canoe,
Quits the precincts of the island, marches at a spanking pace,
Up-hill, down-hill, swamp and dry land, perfect Nimrod in the
chase.

Hippopotamus stupendous to your prowess falls a prey.
Ministers of grace defend us! you are spirited away.
Lo! proverbially fickle, Fortune knocks you from your perch,
Leaves you in a pretty pickle, or, as you may say, the lurch.

Meditating in your prison, through the darkling stilly night,
Ere red Phoebus has arisen you have perpetrated flight:
Swift rejoin the little party by Swahili sore oppressed;
Juma then is in the cart, he gets a bullet in the chest.

Pardon slight inaccuracy, due to exigence of rhyme;
Frenzied poet, going pace, imagines only the sublime.
Be pedestrian and pedantic when you're patronizing prose,
Spur your Pegasus quite frantic when a poem you compose.

To return from this diversion, and to make long story short,
After enemy's dispersion you evacuated fort;
Made a bee-line for the village, situated on a hill,
Scooped the products of their tillage, bloodless coup,
resistance nil.

Expediting preparations for strategic move in rear,
'Mid poor females' ululations, most distressing to the ear--
What makes all your pulses throb? oh! what sets all your nerves
athrill?
'Tis shikari Wanderobbo, or, to use his alias, Bill.

Pale with rage and indignation (metaphorically pale),
Billy tells of spoliation, thieves his property assail.
Tartar like the bold Cambuscan (Chaucer left his tale
half-told),
Juma digs up every tusk and Bill is absolutely sold.

Now behold you on your mettle; now momentous hour has struck,
You in most pugnacious fettle sally forth to try your luck;
Meet marauders by the river, fall on them like bolt from blue,
Crying 'Stand and eke deliver, or I'll run you through and
through!'

(Note: that speech, correct in diction, is not quite correct in
fact;
'Tis a literary fiction, managed with consummate tact.
So the other classic writers, Livy and Thucydides,
Decorate the lips of fighters with sublime apostrophes.)

Though the words were never uttered, pish! it matters not a jot;
Like March hares the scoundrels scuttered, dropping burdens on
the spot;
After years of patient waiting, Bill regains his ownest own,
And with ecstasy gyrating, bellows till he's fairly blown.

You with prescient acumen see that all is not O.K.;
You alas! have very few men, Juma has a vast array;
Yet while danger round you thickens, lo! you neither quail nor
quake;
Though you wonder how the dickens you are going to take the
cake.

To omit progressive stages, which would take up too much time,
Occupy a dozen pages and exhaust a lot of rhyme--
After navigating torrent where the crocodiles disport,
You were spied by foe abhorrent, lurking watchful in the fort.

How you diddled them just proper, how you did the Johnnies
brown,
And how many came a cropper as the rafts were floating down:
This perchance a future Milton, seeking an heroic theme,
May compose splendacious lilt on, in the groves of Academe.

And perchance some future Hallam, with display of prosy pomp,
Will relate in distant Balham scrumptious battle in the swamp;
And describe the villain Juma, in penultimate despair,
Meeting Bill upon the boom and getting his quietus there.