CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH--A Coup de Main
John's first proceeding when the conflagration had been stayed was tolook for the property he had been at such pains to recover. Thecamp-fires gave too little light, so he got Coja to make a couple oftorches. Taking one himself and giving the other to Ferrier, hehastened to the centre of the camp, where the baggage was piled. On theway he passed a confused medley of things--sleeping mats, cooking pots,bows and arrows, spears--things left or flung down by the fugitives intheir hurried flight. And there, packed in the middle space, out ofreach of the fires, were his boxes of ammunition and his rifles.
"We've got the lot, by Jove!" he exclaimed joyfully. "They haven't evenopened one of the boxes. What extraordinary luck!"
"Couldn't be better," cried Ferrier heartily. "And you've got more thanyour 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 thebows and arrows and spears, and anything else they can find, bar therifles. There aren't many spears; I suppose the rascals slept with themat their side, and snatched them up when they ran. Hallo! Here are twoof the Sniders that Juma ran off with in his first little scheme. Thatmakes 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 getsomething 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 youresteemed injunctions at closest possible proximity, and tender heartycongratulations 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 andhis men did jolly well. The shouts they let out when I gave the wordmade amends for their silence during the march, which must have been atrial to them."
Said Mohammed made up the fire and hunted about for the best cooking-potand the articles of fare he thought would be most pleasing to the whitemen. The villagers had already set to work to prepare their own food,chattering and laughing in high elation. Within a quarter of an hourSaid Mohammed had made a stew of some partly cooked waterbuck he haddiscovered. He washed out two rough mugs of clay, and pouring the stewinto them, handed one to each of the young men.
"A thousand regrets, gentlemen," he said, "that circs. do not admit ofmore dainty dishes and service to match."
"That's all right," said John. "I could eat anything, and this stew isfirst-rate."
"Permit me to remark, sir, on national characteristics as displayed bygastronomic ways of going on, utensils, et cetera. The nation, sir,that invented gas-stoves produced Shakespeare, bard of Avon; whatachievements in science or literature could be expected from a race thatnever devilled kidney nor poached egg? Shakespeare himself, sir, was apoacher in giddy youth; though poaching egg and poaching stag are insome respects different, yet each is fine art. The fate of empireslurks in the saucepan; indeed, the mightiest monarch would be negligiblequantity without quantum suff. Wherefore----"
"A little more stew, please," said John, interrupting. "You'd betterget your own supper, khansaman; you must be pretty peckish after yourexertions."
"I am indeed, sir, an abhorred vacuum, and retire with permission to getjolly good tuck-in."
"Thank goodness!" ejaculated John when he had gone. "I say, Charley, Iwas getting very nervous when we didn't see the light for so long. Youwere 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. Isuppose 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 notlicked, and if he gets them back to this fort of his he may still worryus, 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 damagehis prestige, and I shouldn't wonder if the 'bad men,' as Bill callsthem, round on him now."
"I don't know. It will take him some time to recover from the blow, ofcourse, but you see he still has some of our rifles and a certain amountof ammunition, I should think, and they'll go a long way in this countryof bows and arrows. No: I confess I'd like to follow him up. The chiefdifficulty is our natives. They've recovered their property, which iswhat they came for, and I rather doubt whether they'll be willing to goany 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 afort."
"I shouldn't propose to do that. My idea is to start at sunrise orbefore, and get to the fort in advance of Juma. His men are quitedemoralized: they'll take some time to rally. They'll probably hide intrees during the night, and they'll have to find one another in themorning, 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 calledour 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 atonce accompanied him to the spot, which they reached just in time to seethe wounded man limping towards the outer hedge. They ran after him andcaught him, taking him back to the camp, where John examined his leg,and did what he could by bathing and bandaging. Meanwhile he questionedthe man, and learnt from him that the fort lay a long day's march to thenorth. It was held by about forty men, of whom several were Swahilisand had rifles. The fort was built on an island in the river--not thestream flowing past the camp, but a broader river into which thatemptied 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 strikeacross country directly to the north. They would soon come upon theriver, and the surrounding country being hilly, the easiest way to thefort 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 engagethemselves for a further expedition. They had recovered their property:the chief would be expecting them; they wanted to return and celebratetheir success by a feast. John pointed out that, though they had donemuch, they would greatly enhance their glory if they carried back agreat quantity of spoil from the enemy. They had been wantonlyattacked: why not repay their attackers in their own coin? The fortwould certainly contain things worth having. This argument appealed tothe men, and when the chief's son reminded them that the wasungu hadkept their promise and led them to a bloodless victory, they began towaver. "The wasungu are great hunters of lions," said the young chief;"they are also great hunters of men." John said that any who wished togo home might do so; but none were disposed to pass through the countrywithout the whole body, and ultimately they agreed to follow the msunguwherever he chose to lead them. "You've a most persuasive tongue," saidFerrier to John, as they went away to talk things over. "I'm inclinedto think you ought to have gone to the bar after all."
"Bosh! The judges aren't savages. We shall have to arrange a flyingcolumn--that's the name for it, isn't it? It's quite clear from whatthe 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 becaught napping again, you may be sure. As it is, we may find it a hardnut to crack if there are forty men in the fort. We shall have todivide forces, too. We must leave enough men to guard this loot, andI'm afraid we can't both go, old chap: one of us must remain in charge."
"Well, you've done th
e hardest work so far: you take a rest and let metry my luck."
"But you fired the boma; it's my turn. Tell you what, we'll toss forit. 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 captainedthe 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 SaidMohammed had better remain with you. By the way, you'll send over toour 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 ifour wounded prisoner could manage to come with me. I might find himuseful. 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 themorning. The men too. It looks as though they meant to jabber allnight."
"I'll stop that. I'll go and pick my men and make 'em go to sleep. Wakeme at five, there's a good chap. By Jove! Wouldn't my old dad be in astew if he knew what was up! We're risking a lot when you come to thinkof it; but we've been lucky so far, and with rifles and plenty ofammunition I fancy we'll win through. If I'm not back within two orthree days you had better make tracks for the farm. Don't forget towake me at five."
"All right. Pleasant dreams!"
Precisely at five o'clock John was roused, to find ready for him abreakfast of steaming stew and baked millet cakes. Ferrier had alsoprepared a litter for the prisoner, whose wound forbade him to walk. Athalf-past five the little company set off, consisting of John and theWanderobbo, and twenty of the villagers. John had his rifle, a spareone being carried by a man at his side. Only two of the other men hadever handled firearms; these were given rifles, and carried theammunition in little bundles slung to their backs. John had filled hisbandolier and his pockets with cartridges. Ferrier said good-bye to himat the gate of the boma, and started the men left behind in a rousingcheer.
The party marched very rapidly, John at the head with Bill and thelitter-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 morningadvanced, they started large numbers of game. Just before noon theyreached the river of which the prisoner had spoken, a slow, gurglingcurrent 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 shortdistance up-stream when, as they ascended a slight acclivity, Bill wasseized with intense excitement. Pointing to a flat-topped hill manymiles away, he cried that it was there the Arab safari was attacked, andnear by the ivory was hidden. A projecting spur to the right was thesite 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 nonatives on the way, he could not be sure that some of the fugitives hadnot outstripped him along another route. For the most part he kept tothe river, striking off here and there to avoid wide sweeping curves, asthe prisoner indicated. Presently he saw in the distance a bold bluffrising to a hundred feet above the plain, and stretching across the lineof march. The fort, said the prisoner, lay a short distance beyond thebluff, which was cut in two by the river. Up the side of the bluffwound a steep pathway, and at the top a look-out was constantlystationed, except at night, when he was withdrawn into the fort. Fromthis high post the plain could be seen for miles. Knowing how keen isthe negro's sight, John called a halt before it was likely that hisparty had come within the range of vision. The rest of the journey mustbe performed in the dark. He led the men into the bush at some distancefrom the river, so that they should not be seen by any one who mightpass either to or from the fort. Again he impressed upon them thenecessity for silence.
At nightfall, refreshed by the rest, they started once more, confidentof being able to approach the bluff unobserved. An hour's march underthe pale light of the stars brought them to its foot, and John heard thenoise of water rushing swiftly through the gorge. The pathway, said theprisoner, started from a spot very near the river-bank. Even with hisdirections it proved by no means easy to find in the darkness, and whenat last they lit upon it, and John began the ascent, it was scarcelyless difficult to keep to the track. Bill fell on his knees and gropedalong it with his hand, saying when he arose that it had not been madeoriginally by men, but trodden by game descending from the hills to theplain.
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 hecould now see the foaming river racing through the gorge. Beyond, theground sloped gradually to the plain. There was no sound save that ofthe swirling water, no sign of the presence of men. He went on, untilhe came once more to the brink of the river, and a mile further on sawgleaming in the starlight a broad pool, in the midst of which rose adark mass. This, said the prisoner, was the island and fort, and at theupper end of the pool the river ran down swiftly, but not so swiftly asbelow.
Striking off to the right towards a belt of woodland, John led his partyuntil they came opposite the island. It was dark and silent: no onewould have supposed that the fort held men. John could see an irregularpath leading from the shore to the island. This, said the prisoner, wasa line of rocks flung down into the water, and so narrow that only oneman could walk along it at a time. There was a gap between the islandand the end of the causeway. The prisoner explained that a bridge wasthrown over the gap to enable men to enter and leave the fort, the wallof which came to within a few feet of the shore of the island. At nightthe bridge was drawn up.
John stood to consider his next move. His purpose in bringing theprisoner 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 wouldbe useless as a decoy unless he could advance along the causeway so faras to bring him within hearing of his fellows. The bullet was still inthe 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, stolidunder pain. John promised to give the man a handsome present if hewould leave the litter and go with a message to the fort. The managreed with such alacrity as to suggest an intention of treachery, butJohn provided against that. He had the prisoner bound to him by a cordabout his ankle, and showing him his revolver, he explained what theresult would be if he did anything but what he was told to do. Hecarefully instructed the prisoner in the part he was required to play,repeating his words so that he could not mistake. Then, having placedthe remainder of his party under cover of the wood, he set forth withthe negro.
There was now a light in the fort, and the glow of a fire. Clearlysomebody was awake. The two men walked down to the edge of the pool,and on to the causeway, the guide limping painfully, but uttering nomurmur. John walked close behind him, so that he might not be descriedfrom the fort. They had gone about half-way along the causeway when avoice rang out from some point ahead. The prisoner gave an answeringshout. John's nerves were at too high a tension to permit of hisfeeling 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 prisonerrecited the story with which he had been prompted, so glibly that awhite man might have doubted its veracity. He said that he brought goodnews. The brave warriors (meaning Juma's party), under their braveleader, had sacked the msungu's farm and the neighbouring village, andmade much plunder, so vast a quantity, indeed, that they were exhaustedin carrying it. He had been sent in advance to order thirty men toissue forth and help the weary warriors in conveying their
spoils up thebluff.
"It is dark," said the sentry.
"It is the leader's command," was the reply. "He will be like a raginglion if you delay."
Another voice was heard within the fort. In a few moments the sentrycried--
"We come."
"Ah!" said the prisoner.
"Ah!" echoed the sentry.
Then, before the garrison could issue from the gate and lay the bridgeacross the gap, the prisoner cried that he would hasten back and informJuma that the men were coming. He turned, and followed John along thecauseway until they reached the shore. Then the two hurried across theopen to rejoin the ambushed party. The prisoner, who had borne upstoically hitherto, collapsed with pain before they reached the wood;and John, alarmed lest his stratagem should be defeated at a moment whensuccess 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 awhite garment, come across the causeway from the fort, and turn to theright along the path leading to the bluff. John was tingling withexcitement. All was going well: would his luck hold? The men's voicesfaded away in the distance. He gave them ten minutes; then bidding hismen follow him closely, he ran down to the shore, and on to thecauseway. As he expected, the bridge had been left spanning the gap inreadiness for the laden safari. Waiting only to see that the men wereclose at his heels, John dashed over the last few feet, straight intothe fort. A dozen men were squatting in a group about a small fire inthe middle of the compound. They looked up as they heard the tread ofmen, but before they could spring to their feet, before, indeed, theirslow minds suspected that anything was amiss, they were bowled over bythe rush of twenty sturdy savages with a white man at their head, andlay in shaking terror on the ground, howling for mercy.
John had ordered his men to do no killing. They were surprised, butobeyed. Shouting for silence, he called to the panic-stricken garrisonto march out of the fort. They sprang up and fled like a flock ofterrified sheep, out of the gate and along the causeway, yelling as theyran. When the last was gone, and none but his own men were left in theplace, John caught up the bridge and drew it in. The capture of thestronghold had taken three minutes.