CHAPTER VII.

The spot was no longer tenable by the écarté players; the arrows fell faster and faster, and in ever increasing quantities. De Morin would have had several in his back, if the havresack, which he carried about with him, had not acted as a cuirass. Three arrows had stuck in it, but their onward progress had been arrested by the various articles in the bag, and so the wearer escaped.

"A hit!" said de Morin, each time he felt an arrow strike his havresack. "With all these points, to all appearances sticking out of my body, I shall end by being taken for a porcupine."

"Yes," remarked Delange, "these fools are beginning to show some signs of skill, and I see the moment fast approaching when I shall have to operate on myself, as I have already done on Munza, and that, I assure you, is not exactly the sort of amusement I should choose."

The Domondoos certainly deserved the epithet fools just conferred on them by the Doctor; instead of following up their momentary success, consequent on Munza being wounded, and taking advantage of the panic thus created amongst their enemies, instead of attacking the opposing force with greater vigour than before, charging home, and, possibly, routing it entirely, they began to dance, and sing, and shout, making us the targets of their arrows. It might have been supposed that we three represented Munza's troops, and that if we were exterminated, the whole army would disappear.

But the King was watching over us, and as soon as he saw we were bent on staying where we were, he did his best to render the spot less dangerous by fortifying it in a measure. By his order, a score of soldiers came to our assistance, with a lot of wooden shields, of which they made a sort of palisading behind us; they themselves then extended to the right and left of us, and, by raising and lowering their other shields as the too intrusive arrows flew towards us, they protected us on every side. We were, consequently, in perfect safety, sheltered not only from the arrows, but also from the sun's rays, and the two gamblers were loud in their praises of Munza.

"Nothing could be more ingenious," remarked de Morin. "Thanks to that excellent man, we can continue our game in peace and quietness. Ah! I score a vole."

"Too true, by Jove! There is no disputing that."

The doctor did not score a vole, but, in his next hand, he marked the king, and made the point, which came to the same thing. The two adversaries were two all, and a few moments more would settle the question.

The idea of the palisade was really a very happy one; the short, sharp sounds made by the iron arrowheads, as they struck against the shields, told us that our enemies were continuing their trial of skill at us.

"It might be hailing," observed de Morin.

"I do not know whether it hails or not, my dear fellow," replied Delange, "but I do know that I have made a point, so that I am three to your two."

"So I see; but you need not be so ungenerous as to boast about it."

A Monbuttoo soldier, attending to the game, instead of to his business, let an arrow pass him.

"Look out, clumsy!" exclaimed de Morin. "If I lose, I will have it out of you to the tune of a few thousand francs."

The black burst out laughing, as if he quite saw the joke.

The deal was now with Delange, who turned up the ace of hearts. De Morin looked at his hand, and, without asking for cards, played the king of spades.

An almost imperceptible smile played round the doctor's lips. He took the king with a small trump, played the queen of hearts, which, of course, was the best card, and timidly put down the knave of diamonds. As his adversary had a lower card of the same suit, this gave Delange three tricks out of the five.

He looked at de Morin, and said—

"I score two, if you have no objection, seeing that you chose not to ask for cards. Three and two make five, all over the world, Africa included, and, consequently, the rubber is mine."

"By the skin of your teeth," said de Morin, as he got up.

"Do not grudge me my triumph," replied Delange. "We are now quits, and I feel as if I had escaped a great danger."

"I can quite imagine it—you have escaped ninety thousand francs."

"If we could only escape back again to France," I chimed in. "It is high time we did so, I fear."

"You are right," said de Morin. "That small detail had escaped me. This gambling saloon, constructed by Munza, is so pleasant and comfortable, that I thought I was at the club."

"Don't you think," I continued, "that the battle is becoming monotonous? would it not be as well to interfere?"

"Yes, I do; but how are we to set about it?"

"Let us authorise our Nubians to join in the fray. Look at them down below there; they are boiling over with impatience, and cannot leave their rifles alone. If Nassar had not been there to restrain them, they would have opened fire long ago."

"Their fire would not finish the business; their rifles are only loaded with blank cartridge."

"Are you sorry for that?" asked de Morin.

"Well, considering that the Domondoos have presented us with a plentiful stock of arrows, I think we ought to give them a few bullets in return."

"Nonsense," replied de Morin. "Let us keep our ammunition for a better purpose. Blank cartridge will do well enough here."

He stepped outside our palisade, and contrived, by dint of frantic gesticulations, to let Nassar know that he required the attendance of our escort. They were only too ready to obey, and Nassar was at once despatched to the King with a request that we might be furnished with a hundred of his crack shots. As soon as they reached us, de Morin made them form up in a double line, and told them not to let fly their arrows until he gave the word. At the same time, our soldiers were instructed to reserve their fire until the arrows sped on their way.

Delange and I saw our friend's drift at once; the report of our arms would spread terror amongst the Domondoos, whilst the arrows, from the short range, would make immediate havoc in their ranks. By this combination, the Nubians, seeing their adversaries fall, would labour under the delusion that they had killed or wounded them, and would never perceive that their cartridges were destitute of bullets. The enemy, terrified by the noise, would equally think that they were hit by us. Our consciences would, in this way, be quite clear; our rifles would have done no harm, and in a few moments we should put an end to a struggle which could not fail to be more bloody the longer it lasted.

At a signal from de Morin, away flew the arrows, and a simultaneous report of fire-arms was heard.

The Domondoos were completely routed; some ran in terror across the plain, others sought a refuge in the tall grass, whilst very many were so paralyzed by fright that they lay down flat on their faces, or went on their knees and held out their arms to implore our pity. We should have been well pleased to pardon them, and we would have given much to have been able to tell them to lay down their arms, and return in peace to their homes. But how were we to stop Munza's army, how could we prevent his people pursuing the fugitives, making some prisoners, and killing the remainder?

We contrived, nevertheless, to save a portion of our foes by giving them time to save themselves. By our orders, and still under the impression that they were doing wonders, the Nubians continued their fire, and the Monbuttoos, quite as much frightened as their enemies were by the noise, dared not set off in pursuit. Posted between the two armies, we thus managed, for a short time, to set up a kind of barrier between the victors and the vanquished. But our soldiers, as I have already said, had only ten rounds each, and these were soon expended.

The plain thus became the scene of a horrible _mêlée_; lances, axes, knives and teeth took the place of arrows. Hand to hand they fought, and bled, and bit, and ate. It was a sight worthy of the infernal regions, a loathsome, revolting spectacle. In one place a group of soldiers might be seen to suddenly cease to fight, and take to dancing round their victims; some would seize on a corpse and cut the flesh to ribands, and others, for the purpose of rendering themselves invulnerable, as Munza had told us, would hack the bodies of their foes to get at the fat. All these scenes were revolting to a degree, but we should have been wrong in shrinking from them and giving way to our feelings of disgust. On the contrary, we rushed from group to group, intent on rescuing same victims, at all events, from the knives of their butchers.

Munza did his best to help us. At the urgent entreaty of Madame de Guéran, who, accompanied by the Arab interpreters, had courageously made her way to the King, he gave orders for the massacre to cease, telling his men to give quarter and make prisoners only. He himself saw that his orders were obeyed; preceded by his musicians, and borne on a shield by six runners, he went all over the battle field as we were doing. As for the prisoners, we obtained permission to place our Nubians on guard over them, together with the Monbuttoos. By this time we had served out ball cartridge to our men, and we knew well that they would not allow the prisoners to be beheaded, so long as they were there to prevent it, the tribes to which they belong having a superstitious horror of decapitation.

We had thus done our very best to mitigate the horrors of this annual massacre, in no way provoked by our presence amongst the Monbuttoos. But, when evening arrived, we were powerless to prevent fire and plunder. A large village was situated hard by the field of battle, and it was to protect the place that the Domondoos had massed their forces in the plain, Munza's troops, when the battle was over, rushed headlong into this important hamlet, and, after having sacked the huts, set fire to them.

Delange, de Morin and I followed close upon their heels, in the hope of saving the aged, the children and such sick people as might have been left to their fate in the huts. We succeeded, indeed, in taking a few under our protection, and we were just about to withdraw with them and rescue them from the flames, when piercing shrieks fell upon our ears.

They proceeded from a hut not yet attacked by the flames. I was the first to enter, and I found a poor, sick man who, unable to get out, was calling for assistance, to save himself from being burnt alive. Just as I was taking him up in my arms, the lurid glare of the flames lit up the interior of the hut, and a species of placard, suspended from the wall, caught my eye.

I went up to it. On a large sheet of paper, evidently torn out of a book, were about a hundred lines of writing, and underneath them we read, in large letters, this signature— BARON DE GUÉRAN.