CHAPTER XX—Honour among Thieves

The Germans soon found that it was impracticable to attempt to capture the fort by a direct frontal attack in daylight. The slope of the hill was so steep that it was possible to ascend only by way of a path which was covered by the rifles of the defenders. Apparently they had no artillery at their disposal.

At first they charged up this path after the manner in which they were wont to hurl themselves upon the lines of trenches in Poland and in Flanders. They were swept down like chaff. Owing to the narrowness of the way they were obliged to advance upon the fort in single file, and as each man appeared before the loopholes he paid the price of his daring.

After the first assault they resorted to tactics more likely to succeed. They attacked twice by night. But, fortunately for the defence, the nights were fine and starry, a full moon was up, and it was possible to see the enemy long before he reached the walls of the fort.

For all that, the greatest vigilance was necessary both by day and night, to avoid being taken by surprise. One or other of the defenders was always on guard. Even Peter Klein was of some use. Though he could not be relied upon to act with courage or promptitude, his eyesight was good enough, and he took his turn at sentry by day. Moreover, he was in such abject terror of falling into the hands of his own people that Harry suspected that the German authorities at Dualla had learnt something of the Sunstone and von Hardenberg’s private mission to the Cameroons.

By night, when the fort might be rushed, they thought it best not to leave their destiny in the hands of one who had failed them so constantly. The only occasion on which Klein had covered himself with credit was at a moment when fear had so possessed him that he lost all sense of danger and became for the time being a raving madman.

It would be wearisome to describe the details of the siege as it continued day by day. There is no question that the defenders would have held their own for many weeks had it not been that gradually a calamity was drawing down upon them. They were running short of ammunition. Their bandoliers were nearly empty.

The Germans kept up a constant fire upon the fort, and the garrison, in self-defence, was obliged to answer back. They calculated that, with the greatest economy, they had cartridges sufficient to last them only four days more. It was then that Klein, Harry, and the guide entered the hut and held consultation together. Jim Braid was on sentry, stationed on the parapet. The sun was setting in the west.

It was Fernando who was the first to speak.

"The situation is very plain," said he. "We can hold out until our ammunition is exhausted, and then retire by way of the tunnel, still hoping to reach the caves in advance of von Hardenberg, or we may retire to-night.

"Which do you advise?" asked Harry.

"I suggest," said the guide, "that we go at once. We shall need ammunition on our return journey to the coast. We have many miles to traverse. Every moment we delay means a further expenditure of ammunition. We have not a cartridge to spare."

"Then," said Harry, "it is settled: we leave the fort this evening."

It was then that there came a loud and sudden burst of firing from down the valley, from the direction of the forest. All three sprang to their feet.

Braid, from the parapet, called loudly, and they hastened to his side.

"Look there!" he cried.

Turning their eyes in the direction indicated, they beheld a man running as if for life towards the forest. In pursuit, some distance in his rear, came a large party of Germans, shouting so loudly that their voices were audible even at that great distance, and firing their rifles as they ran.

"Who is it?" cried Harry.

"I cannot say," said the guide. "He is too far away."

The firing continued until long after nightfall. It rolled through the forest like a wave. It was not until ten o’clock that the night was still.

The four defenders gathered at the door of the hut.

"You think it wiser to go?" said Harry

Fernando bowed his head.

"Come, then! Let each man load himself with such provisions as he can carry. We should start at once. It is necessary for us to be far away before morning."

Harry Urquhart turned and was about to enter the hut, when he was brought to an abrupt standstill. He stood motionless and gaping, unable at first to believe the evidence of his own eyes. For there, in the doorway, within the enclosure of the fort, stood the figure of a man—a man who was dressed in robes of flowing white.

"The Black Dog!" let out the guide, and brought his rifle to his shoulder.

"Peace," said the sheikh, lifting a hand. "Think before you fire."

Fernando’s rifle was directed straight at the man’s heart. The Arab never flinched. He stood like a statue, speaking in the slow, deliberate tones of one who is in full possession of his senses.

"If you fire," said he, "you slay one who has come to place his services at your disposal. You are surrounded by a legion of foes. Every rifle counts. I bring you aid."

Slowly Fernando lowered his rifle; then he laughed.

"We do not want your aid," said he.

"There," answered Bayram, "you are wrong."

"How so?"

"Here you are imprisoned. You must fight to the end. There can be no question of surrender."

"We do not think of surrender," said the other. "We mean to escape by the way you came. We mean to escape to-night."

The Black Dog shook his head.

"That will not be so easy," he made answer. "The Germans are receiving reinforcements; another column is advancing from the south. The bush swarms with their reconnoitring-parties and patrols. Moreover, guns are approaching up the valley, and may be here at any moment. I speak the truth. Remember, at some risk I have come here of my own accord."

He spoke slowly, as if choosing his words with care; but his English accent was singularly good.

"You have not yet told us," said Harry Urquhart, "why you have come."

"You are short of ammunition," answered the sheikh.

"How do you know that?"

"For five days I have listened to every shot."

"You have not yet explained," said Harry.

The Black Dog smiled, his white teeth showing in the midst of the blackness of his beard.

"I come with a proposal," said he, "under a flag of truce."

"You have nothing to fear," cut in Fernando. "You speak of a truce. We are men of honour."

"Very well, then," said the sheikh, "my proposal—or rather the proposal of him who sent me—is that your party and mine agree to come to terms. You have run out of ammunition; we can supply you. Boxes of ammunition can be conveyed without difficulty through the tunnel. Moreover, in order to cover your retreat, I swear by Allah that I will lead the Germans on a false scent across the mountains to the east."

"And in exchange for these services?" asked Harry.

The Black Dog paused, looking hard at Fernando.

"In exchange for these services," he repeated, "you are to desist from the pursuit, to allow my employer and myself to pass unmolested in Maziriland."

At this base suggestion, a feeling of such powerful indignation arose in Harry Urquhart that for some moments he could not find his voice. When he spoke at last, his voice trembled with passion.

"You can go back to Captain von Hardenberg," said he, "and you can tell him from me that he has often enough proved himself a rascal, but that I never thought that he would sink to such perfidy as to offer us ammunition to be used against his own countrymen in exchange for his own safety. As for you, it is only because you came here of your own free will that you are allowed to go away in safety. You took us evidently both for cowards and fools. You know now, perhaps, that we are neither one nor the other. But there is a limit to our patience, and I advise you to leave by the way you came as quickly as you can."

The Black Dog drew himself up to his full height, folded his arms, and fixed upon Harry Urquhart his cruel bloodshot eyes.

"These are high words," said he, "to one who has been the master of a thousand slaves. You have asked for war to the knife, and you shall have it. It is apparent from the way in which you speak that you know little or nothing of the man with whom you have to deal. You shall see. I shall prove to you that I am not one who uses empty words."

At that he turned sharply on his heel, entered the hut, and was gone.