Part 10

"He has not come within my sphere of influence since he ran in like drowned rat to give us the straight tip, sir."

"Well, get us something to eat. We're famished. By the way, did any one recognize Juma among them?"

"No, sah; no Juma to-day, sah," said Coja. "Him berry much 'fraid to come heah, 'cause of Lulu, sah. Him show him face, ha! ha! she give him what for, sah."

"Go and get your supper."

John spoke irritably. Normally good-tempered, he was now unlike himself.

"And I might have guessed it if I had any gumption," he said to Ferrier. "Juma took advantage of the sheep straying to run off with our rifles before, and it didn't require much ingenuity to invent the ruse."

"Cheer up, old chap. You'll feel better when you've had some grub. It's very sickening, but as you say, I don't see what we can do."

It was now quite dark, and they ate their supper in silence. Even Said Mohammed's excellent cookery could not overcome John's furious disgust at having been tricked. When the Bengali brought in an omelet he said--

"A thousand and one pardons, sir. The wanderer, videlicet Wanderobbo, has returned, and asks for honour of confab."

"Bring him in, and fetch Coja; it takes too long to understand Bill without him."

Bill had come to report that he had followed up the raiders for several miles to the north. They had robbed the villagers of all their foodstuffs, and all the "trade" which they had received as wages for their work on the farm, and then marched directly northward, coming after a few miles to an encampment where they were presently joined by a smaller party from the west. When he came to this part of his story Bill grew much excited. In the leader of the smaller party he recognized one of the safari which years before had attacked his village, killed his people, and plundered their store of ivory--the ivory which by rights belonged to him, and which he would yet recover.

"But that's nonsense," said John. "If these people seized his ivory years ago, it has all been sold long before this."

When this was interpreted to Bill he was like a man demented, and poured out a torrent of incoherent speech which even Coja was unable to understand. John dismissed them both, thinking that the Wanderobbo must have brooded over some old grievance until it had turned his brain.

"Bill's report has given me a notion," he said to Ferrier presently. "If they looted the village they'll be pretty heavily loaded and will go slowly. They won't march during the night, and if this business happened about five hours ago we ought to be able to overtake them if we start early in the morning."

"But, my dear fellow----" began Ferrier.

"Oh, I know it's a risk, and we're outnumbered, and we ought to be prudent, and all the other things that people say who sit in easy-chairs and wear goloshes. But it's the only thing to be done, and I'm going to do it."

"But do you think it's right to leave the farm? Wouldn't your father----"

"Hang--no, I don't mean that; I'm afraid I'm rather a bad-tempered brute to-night, old fellow; but look at it clearly, and you'll agree with me. If we sit down under this they'll try it on again. The farm will never be safe. We might as well cut our sticks at once."

"Why not apply to the Government?"

"Absolutely useless. To begin with, it would take time, and the raiders would be who knows how far away? If they belong to that gang we heard of who've got some sort of a fort up north, they're in a country where precious few white men have ever been, if any. It would be sheer folly to send a police column into the hills after a roving band of this sort. No, it's a settlers' job; it's one of the risks we run, like the lions, and we've got to deal with it."

"Well, but how are you going to set about it?"

"How are _we_ going to, you mean."

"A slip of the tongue, old chap. Of course I'm with you, all along the line. How are we going to set about it, then?"

"Don't know yet. That's what we've got to decide before we go to bed to-night. One thing's certain, we must make up our minds quickly, start soon, and hurry like the very dickens, for if there's any truth in this tale of a fort, we must collar our rifles and ammunition before they get to it, or we're done. That's the first thing: to get our rifles back."

"That's a large order. How many did they take?"

"Four and a shot-gun. If they're the same lot we dealt with before they'll have about a dozen now. I know we don't stand the ghost of a chance of recovering them in a fight; that's absurd; but I rather think if we put our heads together we can find some way of diddling them."

"If it's a matter of brains I'm conceited enough to believe we have the odds, but there's a lot to consider besides. We shall have to take a safari to carry provisions, and a pretty big one if we're going to bluff them. They won't bolt as they did before. Well, where will you get your safari from?"

"The village. What are you smiling at? Snakes, I forgot they've run off with all my "trade." I've nothing to pay porters with. That's bad. Still, the chief has known us some time, and perhaps he'll trust us. I'll see, first thing in the morning."

"Who will you leave in charge of the farm? Not the Bengali?"

"Rather not. He may be a very Nimrod in the Sunderbunds, but he's a funk-stick here. No; Coja's a better man."

"But you'll want him to interpret."

"'M. Afraid I shall. I can rub along pretty well with Swahili by this time, but we may come across a tribe who don't know it, and that would certainly be awkward. Well, Coja must come with us, then."

"What I suggest is that you should send a note to Mr. Gillespie and ask him to send up a respectable European to take charge. He might come himself; he hasn't paid you the visit he promised, and if you tell him what you're after I'm sure he'll do what he can. Besides, if we get bowled over, you know, it would be just as well he should have heard about the business beforehand, for your father's sake. And I'd send a note to the Commissioner at Fort Hall too; he may be inclined to stretch a point."

"I'll do both. A good idea to get Gillespie up here, or some one he can trust. Of course if we're lucky we shall get our rifles and things and be back here long before he could arrive. But then we mayn't. I'll write before we turn in. That's settled."

"Don't you think we ought to have some sort of a plan before we start?"

"Our plan is to go straight after the raiders, and march two miles or more to their one."

"That's all right; but what if they reckon on being pursued and lay a trap for us? You see, they were pursued last time, and they hadn't done nearly so much damage then."

"That's true," said John; "but on the other hand there's such a lot of them this time--we can divide Mohammed's five hundred by five--there's such a lot that they may think we'll not attempt to bring them to book. Still, we ought to be on our guard. The worst of it is that if we have to go carefully we shall have to go slowly, and time's everything in this job. Hand me a cigarette and let's think it over."

"Any good asking Bill?"

"Not a bit. He can do tracking, follow his nose, but that's about all. Besides, he's so cranky just now that he's fit for nothing. I wonder how much truth there is in this ivory yarn of his? We may get to the bottom of it by and by. But this plan of ours--any ideas, Charley?"

"Not a ghost of one. We _must_ follow the track, and that may lead us into an ambush."

"Wait a bit, though. If we could march on a line parallel to it we might go as fast as we liked without much danger."

"How could we do that--far enough away from it not to be spotted, and yet near enough not to lose it?"

"Of course we couldn't all go together; some one must keep on the track, and that must be Bill for one."

"That wouldn't be much good. How could we keep in touch with him? I've got a field-glass, but that will be useless if we have to go through much wood. We can't rig Bill up with wireless!"

"No, but I'll tell you what we can do. You take the safari on the parallel line; I'll go with Bill and take my pocket-mirror with me. It will make a fine heliograph. You know the code, of course?"

"I do, as it happens. I could signal back with my watch-case. But that won't help us if there's a wood or a hill between us."

"Well, we must chance that; and as Bill and I shall be able to go much faster than you with the safari, we can come over to you if necessary; you see what I mean: come and go between the two tracks and yet keep up with you."

"I think that's got it. I suppose it's no use thinking what we'll do when we come up with the raiders?"

"No; all will depend on when we find them, and where. I'm not going to think of that, and as we shall have to be up early to interview the chief and get our things together, I vote we go to bed."

"Don't forget your letters."

"Right. Off you go. Goodness knows when we'll sleep next."

John wrote the two letters he had spoken of, and a third, a brief note to his father explaining what had happened. Then he went to bed thoroughly tired out, and slept like a top.

Next morning one of the most serious of his difficulties was unexpectedly removed. As soon as it was light, the chief came over from the village with some of his people to beg the msungu to follow up the bad men and recover the stores they had stolen. John jumped at the opportunity. He agreed to do so if the chief would allow forty of his strongest young men to act as porters. He pointed out that the villagers had as great a cause of quarrel with the raiders as he had himself, so that the bargain he proposed was reasonable. The chief agreed to it at once. John's recent exploits in slaying the rhinoceros and the lion, his former successes against the raiders, and above all his fairness and punctuality in paying the villagers for their labour, had won him the respect of his neighbours, and they joined him with full confidence that the expedition would be successful. Preparations were quickly made, a considerable quantity of food was packed up, two runners were sent off with the letters, and by seven o'clock the safari was ready to start.

At the last moment Said Mohammed came up to John.

"With submission, sir," he said, "I offer myself as unit in this expeditionary force. I undertake to be no cipher, but integer, sir, and not a minus quantity. Need I remind you of the saying of some great and glorious general whose name I have forgotten, that an army marches upon its tummy? _Verb. sap_. Grub, sir, is the sinews of war, and astounding military gumption is no go without a cook. Furthermore, was I not honoured to interpose unworthy corpus between raging lion and your honour's nobility? If so, what is a life saved if not also preserved? Permit me, therefore, to be the life-preserver."

"All right. Hurry up! No time to waste," said John, remarking to Ferrier, as the Bengali went off to fetch his bundle: "I suppose he's afraid the place will be attacked again in our absence."

"A bad look-out if it is."

"Well, we shall soon find out whether the whole gang of the raiders are on the march. If they are, I don't think they'll come back, and as nobody else has molested us for more than a year I think we may be pretty easy. Now, khansaman, buck up; we're off."

John had already decided that every member of the party should go on foot. Donkeys might prove a great nuisance if the country was difficult; moreover, mounted men would form conspicuous objects in the plains. Accordingly Ferrier and he had donned stout-soled boots, and set off to tramp after Bill and Coja, who had gone ahead with the chief to select the men for the safari. Said Mohammed brought up the rear.

CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH--Tracking the Raiders

The two white men had just forded the river when they met the porters marching to the farm to fetch the loads laid there in readiness for them. It was plain that the chief was in earnest, for the forty young men were the most stalwart in his community. Each carried his bow and arrows, and as John turned and watched them striding lithely along he thought they would prove no mean antagonists in a fight. He went on with Ferrier to the village, had a short conversation with the chief, and then set off with Bill on the trail of the raiders, leaving Coja and Said Mohammed to bring the safari. He wished to go a few miles ahead in order to examine the trail and get some guidance of his course before the others came up.

At the outset the spoor was very easy to follow. The ground in the immediate neighbourhood of the village was soft red soil, on which the print of feet could be clearly seen. But it was impossible at first to distinguish the marks of the raiders from those of the villagers. Presently, however, they came to a stretch of grass-land, the grass cropped short by the villagers' cattle. Here again the trail was so crossed and mingled with the hoof-marks of the animals that had grazed there since daybreak that it was impossible to learn anything from it. But by and by the grass grew longer, and the passage of a numerous body of men through it was plainly indicated. There were two distinct tracks, one a narrow path, the other, a few yards to the left, broader. Both the white men were sufficiently experienced in African travel to know that the former was the track of the bearers among the party, proceeding in single file; the latter that of the Swahilis, who, insolent in their strain of Arab blood, domineer over the native tribes.

"They're going pretty fast," said John, as they marched on; "fast, that is, for men carrying loads."

"How do you know?" asked Ferrier.

"By the look of the spoor. Stop a minute and bend down. Here are the footprints of the niggers, you see, about thirty inches apart. Every man trod in the steps of the man in front, so that the prints are particularly clear. I know they went fast because their feet turned in a lot; look at the marks; you can't carry a load at any pace with your feet splayed. Now look at the other trail. The footsteps are farther apart--three feet, I should think; and one or two of the men had sandals; there's a flatter impression than bare feet make. I rather guess that the Swahilis set the pace and made the natives keep up: they could do that because if there's a lot of them they needn't all carry loads at the same time."

"I say, we could have done without Bill," said Ferrier, with a laugh, as they went on. "Did he teach you that?"

"No. I did some scouting at school. Bill can't make any inferences from what he sees, but he's got sharper eyes than I have, and can often spot the trail when I've lost it, especially on hard ground. The worst of this habit of marching in Indian file is that one can't tell how many the party consists of; at least, I can't; perhaps a more experienced scout could judge from the depth of the impression of the footprints. Look here; just as I thought. They stopped here to change loads. The Swahilis made a group here; the carriers put their loads on the grass at the side of the path; see how it's pressed down. Here's the mark of one of my ammunition boxes, I'll swear; and the next man had a cargo of maize; here are some of the grains."

"How far do you reckon they went before camping?"

"Well, judging by what Said Mohammed said, they made their attack between one and two--the hottest part of the day, when everybody would be sleepy. Allowing a couple of hours to sack the village and get the loads together, they might start at four and march till seven, so that in about an hour's time we ought to get to their last night's camp. The trail runs fairly straight, so it looks as if they're making direct for their refuge in the hills, and I hope to goodness it's pretty far away: the farther it is the better our chance of coming up with them before they get there. It runs west-nor'-west, you see" (he had taken out his pocket compass), "which leads to the foothills of Kenya. We ought to find ourselves on rocky ground presently, and may lose the trail."

"Hadn't we better wait for our men now?"

"We'll come to the raiders' camp first. Coja won't lose us; and I want to see what sort of camp they made: it may help us."

They hastened on. At one point the track swerved to the east to avoid a steep incline, but returned to its former direction immediately that had been passed. At another it led due west, skirting a swamp, at the edges of which the footprints were still deeper in the soft mud, which was, however, beginning to dry in the sun's rays. Then it crossed a shallow stream, and John wondered at first why the raiders had marched for some little distance up the bank before crossing, since the stream was fordable anywhere. He understood when Bill pointed to a long depression in the soft earth at the brink: a crocodile had lain there, and the men had given it a wide berth, for if it had heard or seen them it would have slipped noiselessly into the water and seized some hapless fellow as they crossed.

At length, after a rapid march of two hours, during which they had covered, as John estimated, about eight miles, they came suddenly to an open glade in the midst of scrub, where there were clear signs of the previous night's encampment. A thorn boma was left partly standing. Within it there were the black marks of fires, and a circular patch of discoloured grass where the loads had been stacked. Here John decided to halt and await the arrival of the safari. The smell of burnt wood was still so strong that he guessed the raiders had not made a very early start, giving him the hope of coming up with them before nightfall if his men would be content with a short rest.

It was an hour and a half before they came up, very hot and tired, Coja having not allowed a halt until they reached the stream, where they had delayed for a little while to drink and cool their feet. Judging that the raiders were quite out of sight, a belt of forest stretching across the country about a mile ahead, John did not think any harm would come of lighting fires; accordingly the men set about cooking their breakfast, and Said Mohammed made some coffee, which the white men drank out of tin mugs, with condensed milk. John took the opportunity to explain to the men that he wished to set off without delay, promising that with good luck they should recover their stolen goods before next morning. After an hour's rest, therefore, he gave the order to march.

They now adopted the plan he had arranged with Ferrier over night. They had come into country favourable to an ambuscade, and it was advisable to take all precautions. On starting, Ferrier and the safari struck off to the right, leaving John to follow the trail with Bill. The latter kept close to the track so long as it led over open country, where no trap was possible; but as soon as they reached the wood, John heliographed with his pocket mirror to Ferrier, now nearly a mile to the east, to halt until he had scouted among the trees. For some time there was no answering flash to his signals, and he feared the safari was out of touch, but after repeated trials the answer came, and he knew that all was well. John then entered the wood with Bill very cautiously, and found it so thick, and the ground so densely covered with undergrowth, that it was impossible to see the trail. There was nothing for it but to penetrate to the other side, and they did this as rapidly as possible, John thinking it scarcely probable that the raiders would have attempted to lay a trap for them in the wood, where there was no path. John found this the most trying experience he had yet encountered. Here he had to climb over a dead tree-trunk: there to cut his way through a jungle of bamboos, every stroke of his knife shaking a shower of dew from the canopy overhead until his shirt was soaked. He was unable to see a yard in front of him. His progress was all the more difficult because the wood covered a steep slope. It took nearly half-an-hour to get right through, though the distance in a straight line was less than half-a-mile: then they came out upon a sort of rocky plateau, and John got one of his rare glimpses of Mount Kenya, far to the west, its snow-clad peaks, for once clear of mist, gleaming dazzlingly in the sunlight. Leaving Bill to recover the trail, he hastened back to heliograph that the safari might advance, and by the time he had once more penetrated the wood and rejoined the Wanderobbo, Ferrier had come within sight in a hollow a mile and a half to the east. Bill having not yet found the trail on the hard ground, John signalled to Ferrier to halt again; the delay was vexatious, but it was important that the advance should not be continued until he had made quite sure of the direction.

Finding Bill at fault, John cast about for the lost trail in a systematic way. He laid down his rifle to mark the spot where he had emerged from the wood, and sent Bill to the left, himself going to the right, to examine the ground in ever-widening circles. The difficulty was greatly enhanced by the fact that almost all the raiders were barefooted, so that there was nothing to mark their passage over the hard soil. After searching for half-an-hour in the sweltering heat, and almost despairing, John suddenly observed, about two hundred yards from the spot where he had left his rifle, a tribe of black ants very busily engaged. Looking more closely, he was delighted to see that they were running over and over a grain or maize. Bill came up at his call, and instantly flinging himself upon his face, and peering along the surface of the soil northwards, he declared he saw marks of the scraping of sandals. John hastened in that direction, and within a few yards came upon a small round depression whence a pebble lying near by had evidently been kicked. He had no doubt that the trail was at last recovered, so he sent Bill back for his rifle, and then, finding from his compass that the line between the grain and the hole led in a north-westerly direction, towards a low hill, he ventured to set his course thither, finding, as he progressed, slight traces on the soil that proved his judgment to be correct.