Settlers and Scouts: A Tale of the African Highlands
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIFTH--The Fight in the Swamp
"By George!" cried John, breathless, as he poled his raft up toFerrier's, "I don't think I could have faced it if I had known what toexpect."
"You did famously," said Ferrier, laughing. "I was afraid you'd come acropper 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 todo 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 lifein losing the ivory. If I were in his place I'd certainly have anothertry. The current is getting slower and slower; they could easilyoutstrip us on the bank."
"That might be awkward for us. We don't know anything about the river afew miles down-stream. There may be more rapids. And look: d'you seemen coming over the bluff behind us?"
"Yes, swarming like ants. Evidently they mean to chase us, and they'llcatch 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 ahalf miles an hour. Vigorous poling increased the speed of the raftsslightly, but they were too heavy to move above a walking pace. A bendin the river hid the pursuers from view. When next seen they wereconsiderably nearer.
"We could get on faster if the men walked," said Ferrier. "Let us landthem on the right bank. The enemy appear to be all on the left, and wecan take them in again if they come to too close quarters."
The suggestion seemed a good one, and was quickly put in effect. Themen, who had had a fright and thorough drenching, were glad enough tostretch their legs on dry land again, and the rafts, relieved of theirweight, responded more readily to the sturdy thrusts of the poles. Againthe enemy were hidden, but catching sight of them presently through thetrees, John cried--
"I say, they are cutting off to their left. The river makes anotherbend, 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 canfire down on us, and the mischief is, we can't reply and attend to therafts as well. Hadn't we better chuck the ivory into the river and takeour own things and make a bolt for it?"
"Not I," said John. "I don't like the idea of skedaddling at all, andI'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 hottesttime is yet to come."
They went steadily down the river, the men keeping pace with them asclosely as possible, though the nature of the ground caused themsometimes to leave the bank and march at a considerable distance fromit. For nearly two hours, as they guessed, they did not catch a singleglimpse of the enemy, and hoped that they had tired of the pursuit. Butpresently they had reason to suspect that they were not to be allowed toescape so easily. The river spread out into a kind of swamp, apparentlyalmost half-a-mile in breadth. About half that distance ahead it wasstudded with small wooded islands, and Ferrier, who was still leading,was puzzled as to which of the channels into which the stream wasdivided was the safest to attempt. The enemy were not in sight, butfrom 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 takethe men on board before we get fairly into the swamp? If the enemy arehidden on those islands we had better have them with us."
John hailed the marching men, who came at his call and were soonensconced on the rafts again. They punted along, looking ahead warilyfor signs of the enemy. The current became more and more sluggish, andthere was at times scarcely enough water to float the rafts, now againweighted by their passengers. Ferrier scanned the river in search of apracticable channel. In the channels on the left he saw mud-banksrising just above the surface. A wider channel to the right, abouttwenty yards broad, gave the best promise of a safe passage, and towardsthis he steered. While still some distance from it, however, he sawsome figures emerge from the wooded island on the left, wade hurriedlyacross, and enter a similar wood on the right bank of the river, boththe island and the bank being here slightly above the level of thewater. The greater number of the waders were negroes, but among themwere 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. "Confoundit! We're stuck again. Look out, John: I'm on a mud-bank. Pull up tillI'm free."
By dint of energetic poling he managed to get his raft clear. Johnavoided the obstacle by slightly changing his course.
"All we can do," he said, "is to push on as fast as we can and trust tothe breastwork. The worst of it is, the men can't defend themselveswithout exposing their heads to the enemy's fire."
"Yes they can, if they make loopholes," replied Ferrier. "Set 'em tocut some; we were idiots not to do it before."
The rafts were still about eighty yards from the island. Their coursewas checked while the men hastily cut loopholes in the breastwork oneach side, at which they posted themselves with their weapons; then thewhite men drove the rafts forward as swiftly as the shallow waterpermitted. The enemy had again totally disappeared. But just asFerrier'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 speedof the raft, in the hope of breaking through. There was a jolt and acrash, but the boom held, and instantly with ferocious yells the enemyon both sides let fly a shower of arrows mingled with a few rifle-shotsat the occupants of the raft. These, kneeling at the breastworks,replied as well as they could through the loopholes; but they sufferedtwo disadvantages: while they were exposed to the missiles of the enemybehind them, and on a higher level, the enemy themselves were concealedamong the trees and brushwood. Cries of pain proclaimed that severalhad been hit, and Ferrier, turning for a moment to seize his rifle,received an arrow in his right shoulder. In an instant he wrenched itout: there was no time to think of wounds.
Meanwhile John had poled his raft somewhat to the left of the other, totry in his turn to break through the boom. Like Ferrier, he failed. Therafts were now ranged alongside, and John's men became exposed to thedeadly hail from the island.
"We must either cut the boom or run for it," he said, gaining whatshelter 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 bekilled, 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 hemeant to do. Then, with a few vigorous thrusts of his pole, he drovethe raft against the bank. As it touched, a bullet passed through hishelmet. He dropped his pole, seized a rifle with his left hand and arevolver with his right, and calling to the men, leapt over thebreastwork on to the island. The men followed him with a yell, all butSaid Mohammed, whom he had ordered to remain and prevent the raft fromdrifting away.
As they swarmed up the bank, they were met by a shower of missiles. Twoor three men fell; an arrow grazed John's cheek; but the suddenness ofthe attack had taken the enemy by surprise. Those who had rifles had notime to reload before their assailants were among them. Discharging hisrevolver at the nearest man, John dashed straight forward, smiting leftand right with his clubbed rifle, the men hacking with their knives andjabbing with their spears. The enemy had thought rather of obtaininggood cover from which to atta
ck 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 theenemy 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 whenthey saw John and his little band springing after them they lost heartand fled, racing over the second island and the channel dividing it fromthe left bank of the river, and never halting until they gained firmground a hundred yards away.
Meanwhile John had become aware by the uproar behind him that a fierceconflict was in progress there. He could not delay to see whether theenemy he had put to flight would return, but rushed back to theassistance of Ferrier. What he saw filled him with alarm and dismay.The main body of the enemy, several hundreds strong, and led by Jumahimself, had swarmed out from the trees and shrubs among which they hadbeen concealed, and after discharging their weapons, were wading throughthe river to attack Ferrier's raft. The channel was black with them,yelling, brandishing spears and rifles, a few still shooting theirarrows as they plunged through the water. Some had run along the boom,and at the moment when John returned were trying to leap over thebreastwork on to the raft. Some had come round on the other side andwere attempting to tear down the breastwork. Ferrier was laying abouthim doughtily with his clubbed rifle; Coja at the further end of theraft was doing the same; and the rest of the men were darting here andthere, striking the heads of the negroes in the river, or prodding withtheir spears at those on the boom.
But the numbers of the enemy were so overwhelming that John feared thatnothing could now save the day. Said Mohammed in his agitation hadallowed his raft to drift away from the island into the stream, and arush was immediately made towards it. John sprang on to the boom, andran with all speed to Ferrier's help, his men close behind. Catching abig 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 staggeredand fell with a spear wound in the thigh. The arrival of John's partychecked the assault for a moment, but meanwhile the enemy had clamberedinto his raft, overthrowing Said Mohammed, and the current brought itonce more against the boom. The little party was now surrounded. Oneafter another fell. Two men, a Swahili and a negro, had at last brokenthrough the defence and gained a footing on Ferrier's raft. John felledthe Swahili with a sledge-hammer blow of his rifle; the negro was killedwith a thrust from Bill's knife. But while these first invaders werethus disposed of, others had forced their way on to the raft, and beforeJohn could recover himself, a spear was driven through his arm and hewas hustled to the deck.
There was a yell of triumph from the enemy. But all at once, above theuproar there came the sharp crackle of rifles, followed by a ringingcheer. Juma, who was at that moment in the act of springing from theboom into the raft, halted for a second, and turned to discover theorigin of these new sounds. He saw, on the right bank of the river, nottwo hundred yards away, a party of mounted white men, riding at a galloptowards him. For an instant he hesitated. While his back was towardsthe raft, Bill, with an agility amazing in a man of his years, leapt thebreastwork, knife in hand, and hurled himself upon the Swahili. Bothtogether, they fell into the river. Juma was undermost. For an instantthey disappeared beneath the surface. Bill never relaxed his grip.When they emerged, he plunged his knife up to the haft in the Swahili'sthroat; then flung his enemy from him. Juma was dead. So he expiatedthe cruelties and tyrannies of many years, at the hands of a member ofthe tribe which had suffered most wrong.
While this tragedy was being enacted, the riders came to the brink ofthe stream, and ten rifles sped their bullets among the swarm of blackmen. Again the air rang with a British cheer. With screams of pain,yells of consternation and affright, the enemy broke and fled, sometowards the island, some scrambling up-stream, those who were in therafts plunging into the water and swimming in all directions. And John,rising to his feet, beheld his father and Mr. Gillespie, and eight menwhom he did not recognize, and waving his rifle aloft with his uninjuredarm, he answered cheer with cheer.