Part 14

"Now we'll give them a volley," said he, "and slip away."

All who had rifles accompanied him to the edge of the belt of trees, and at his word fired together at the enemy, who had halted as if undecided what to do. Another volley flashed from the second barrels; then, withdrawing among the trees, the party ran along in the direction of the bluff, reloading as they went. Within a few hundred yards they came without warning upon a band of twenty or thirty natives with two Swahilis among them. They must have found a means of crossing the river, hastened along the opposite bank, and then recrossed ahead of John's party. There was no time for hesitation.

"All together!" shouted Ferrier.

They poured in a volley, emptying both barrels; then, with John and Ferrier at the head, charged straight at the enemy. The savages, themselves taken aback by this sudden and vigorous onslaught, were too much flurried to discharge their weapons. While they still hesitated, the two white men were upon them, smiting right and left with the stocks of their rifles, their native followers close at their heels, making the air ring with their shouts. The savages immediately in the path of John and Ferrier went over like ninepins; a way was cleft through the group; several fell to the spears of the natives; the rest turned and fled right and left with wild yells, some plunging into the river, the others dashing towards their comrades in the plain.

"Now for a sprint," cried John. "We're not far from the bluff."

They ran as fast as they could through the clinging undergrowth, emerged from cover when the rising ground told them that the end of their march was near at hand, and began to climb the steep ascent. The enemy, whose main body had hurried forward at the sound of firing in the expectation of finding their quarry engaged with the ambush, were driven frantic at the sight of their prey escaping them. Plucking up courage at last, they rushed forward in a yelling swarm, hoping to overcome the little party which had baffled them while it was still on the lower slope of the bluff, the path being so narrow that the climbers must go in single file. In a few brief sentences John ordered the bowmen to climb as quickly as possible, while with the rest he remained at the foot to check the rush. The enemy had come within two hundred yards before John and his companions had time to reload their rifles, which they had been unable to do during their dash through the undergrowth. But they came no nearer. A volley brought down several men in the front line of the mass, if the van of such a wild horde could be called a line. The rest wavered; while they hesitated the terrible bullets were again singing among them. It was enough: they broke and fled in disorder, sped by a flight of arrows from the men who had climbed the bluff and were able to shoot without the risk of injuring their friends below.

"I think that's the end," said John, panting as much with excitement as with his exertions. "Up you go, Coja!"

They hastened up the path, Ferrier and John the last two of the line. When they reached the top, where their men were awaiting them, they halted to look back over the plain.

"My word! you've done jolly well," cried John, as he saw the dusky throng halted below. "I had no idea there were so many of them. What happened, Charley?"

"Yesterday afternoon, just after I had brought in those fellows we left at our little camp, the beggars made a sudden rush on us, springing up from nowhere, as it appeared. It was the same lot that we stampeded, but largely reinforced, and from what my men said, there's no doubt the newcomers belong to the same tribe I had trouble with when you rescued me. It was lucky we weren't completely taken by surprise. I had a sort of notion they might try on something of the sort. I don't believe they knew at first that you had gone, and their idea was to have their revenge for the slap we gave them. Juma was among them, Coja told me."

"The blackguard!"

"I had got the boma repaired where we burnt it, so that they couldn't get in, but they came all round us, keeping under cover, and thinking, I suppose, that they would starve us out. I felt I was in a bit of a fix. We might hold our own in the camp for three or four days; but I was afraid they'd stay there until you came back, and there was such a crowd of them, as you see, that I didn't see how you could possibly get through them. It struck me that the best thing I could do was to come after you and join forces while there was time; so I left the fires burning and slipped away in the middle of the night, making a detour round their camp, which they had pitched about a quarter of a mile up-stream. We couldn't march very fast with our loads, but the men were very plucky, and it wasn't till this afternoon that the beggars caught us. We had been fighting for about an hour when you came up, and I was jolly glad to see you, I can tell you, for they were beginning to press us very closely, and we couldn't have kept it up much longer. What luck have you had?"

"I've got the fort: I'll tell you all about it when we get there. By Jove! there is a lot of them. What are they up to?"

The enemy, numbering, as nearly as John could estimate, more than four hundred, had given up direct pursuit, evidently recognizing that to scale the bluff under the rifles of its defenders would be a hopeless task. They were marching rapidly to the right. In addition to the fighting men, there was also a large number of men and women carrying loads, no doubt provisions: these had only just come up with the main body.

"Is there any other way up the escarpment?" asked Ferrier, anxiously.

"Not that I know of. It looks as if they're going to make a round to the fort. We had better hurry on."

They turned about and marched rapidly after the men, who were already some distance away.

"I had begun to demolish the fort," said John, "which is a pity if they're going to besiege us. Perhaps they've had enough of it, though."

"Can't we repair it?"

"Unluckily we've pitched the stones of the wall into the pool surrounding it, and I'm afraid we can't fish them up again. It's a good job we hadn't done much. We were in the middle of the work when Bill heard your shots. He spotted your rifle; his hearing is amazingly acute."

"Well, it seems to me that we are in for a nice little campaign. It is to be hoped your friend Gillespie has started for the farm. I don't like to think of it being left."

"Let's see. He must just about have got my letter, I should think. I don't feel very anxious. We had no troubles except from lions and Juma, and the chief will lend a hand if any wandering tribe turns up, which isn't likely. No, Charley; the difficulty's here: and upon my word it looks as if we've got a campaign on our hands, as you say. However, here we are! There's the fort, and we've got to hold it, my boy."

"Right ho! I only hope it won't be another Ladysmith."

"Can't possibly. Our food won't last a week."

"Oh!" said Ferrier.

CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH--John's Letter

In the comfortable dining-room of Mr. Gillespie's bungalow a merry party was assembled. At the right hand of Mr. Gillespie sat a handsome, well-preserved lady, who was fifty and looked forty-five. At the other end of the table, beside the hostess, was our friend Mr. Halliday, fresh and florid, evidently in the best of health. His neighbour on the right was a slim young girl in black; hers was a tall, well-set-up young man of twenty-five. Opposite these two, in due sequence, were a girl who might have been seventeen, and a youth a year or two older, so much like her that no one could have doubted they were brother and sister.

Laughter rang round the table; everybody seemed at the top of cheerfulness, except the girl in black. Even she smiled at a remark addressed to her by Mr. Halliday. There was a pause in the conversation as they devoted themselves to the sweets, which included a wonderful confection of native pine-apples. Then the lady next to Mr. Gillespie, in slow level tones, and with the clear enunciation and scarcely perceptible burr of an educated Scotswoman, said--

"He's a dear boy, I'm sure. We could read so well between the lines of his letters that he thought me a very designing woman----"

"A Delilah, Cousin Sylvia," said Mr. Halliday.

"You'd be the better for having your hair cut, Cousin David. I shouldn't allude to such a personal matter if I didn't hope that Mrs. Gillespie would back me up. _I've_ done my best to improve you, and failed; perhaps public opinion will do some good."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Burtenshaw," said Mr. Gillespie. "He'll get a thorough crop before he goes up country, where barbers are unknown."

"But it won't matter then, where there's no one to see him.... It was plain John thought his father would marry me----"

"The other way about, cousin," Mr. Halliday interposed. "He wouldn't suspect me of all men of fortune hunting."

"Listen to him!" exclaimed Mrs. Burtenshaw, drawing herself up with an affectation of injured dignity. "If any man wanted to marry me it could only be for my money, you see. As I was saying, John quite expects to be presented with a step-mother, and resents it, like all young things. Joe there wouldn't speak to me for a week when I married poor Burtenshaw. It's a nice kind of jealousy, don't you think so, Mrs. Gillespie?"

"Just like a dog's," said Mrs. Gillespie, in a tone that made every one laugh. "When we first came out we had a collie that couldn't see my husband put his arm round me without whining to be petted."

"John will be flabbergasted when he sees us," said the older of the two young men, referred to by his mother as Joe.

"Yes, wasn't it funny that he should come across them in the wilds of Africa, and rescue Poll from a game-pit without either of them knowing they were cousins?" said Helen, his sister. "It's quite a romance."

"Doesn't he know the relationship now?" asked Mrs. Gillespie.

"No," said Mr. Halliday, with a chuckle. "I asked him in one of my letters whether he had seen anything of the Brownes. You see, they talked of settling here, before they came into this fortune."

"That's all over now, of course," said Mr. Gillespie.

"I'm not so sure," said Joe Browne. "The people at home were very nice, and all that, but they're too stiff and starched after what we've been used to; wear high collars and kid gloves. I don't fancy Poll and I could settle down to that sort of thing."

"And I don't want you to," said Mrs. Burtenshaw. "I don't believe in healthy young men loafing about, and I tell my boys they'll have to work for their living just as if I were a poor woman."

"Capital!" said Mr. Gillespie. "And when they see what John has been doing I warrant they'll settle down as neighbours. There'll be quite a little colony of Scotsmen about Alloway soon, for I've no doubt you've Scotch blood in you, Miss Ferrier?"

"Diluted, Mr. Gillespie," said the girl in black. "My grandfather was a Scotsman, but he married a Frenchwoman--Canadian French, of course. Do you really think my brother will settle here?"

"Well, I can't exactly say," was Mr. Gillespie's cautious reply. "It seems very probable from what John says in his letters. Don't you like the prospect?"

"Oh, I shall live with Charley, of course; and if it's really as nice as he says--there isn't any real danger, is there?"

"A lion among the ladies!" cried Mr. Halliday, and they all laughed, Said Mohammed's quotation being common property among them. "I think you'll find it all right, my dear," he added in his fatherly way. "I dare say John and your brother between them have exterminated the lions in our neighbourhood by this time."

"I think Hilda was very plucky to come all this way alone," said Helen. "_I_ shouldn't have had the courage."

"But I wasn't really alone," said Hilda Ferrier. "The people on the _Mauretania_ were very kind, and I met you on the _Palawan_, you see. I was thinking more of the natives than of lions: of course, you can shoot lions."

"And you can shoot men, my dear," said Mr. Halliday.

"There, now you've frightened her," said Mrs. Burtenshaw, as a startled look crossed the girl's face. "What an absurd man you are, David! You've told us over and over again that the natives are perfectly friendly."

"So we found them, Cousin Sylvia. We had no trouble except with the thieves of our own safari. I grudge them the rifles they stole, that's a fact. I suppose that villain Juma has never dared to show his face in Nairobi again, Gillespie?"

"Not to my knowledge. He wouldn't bring your rifles if he did."

"Why did he steal them, then?" asked Helen.

"To shoot with, of course," said Oliver Browne. "What a question!"

"I thought he might want to sell them, or pawn them, or something."

"We've no pawn-shops in Nairobi," said Mr. Gillespie, laughing, "though I'm sorry to say we've some Indian money-lenders who've got their clutch on some of our poorer settlers. Juma won't try to sell the rifles here at any rate. I suppose he stole them to shoot with, as your brother says, though I confess it's a little odd. He has been a porter for several years past, and it isn't like porters to give up their trade. Perhaps he has taken a fancy for being independent, and has settled down somewhere with others of his kidney. The rifles would be very useful to him in getting food. He's a scamp, though; for he has unquestionably deserted his wife, who has turned out a capital laundress, John says."

"He hasn't been back to the farm?" asked Mr. Halliday.

"John hasn't said so. I think my notion must be correct, because the man has led an adventurous life, and the only surprising thing is that he should go back to it after years of portering. I believe he once belonged to a party of Arab ivory-dealers--I can't call them hunters, for all they did was to buy, or steal, ivory from the Wanderobbo north of Kenya. They were smashed up a few years ago by a tribe of Embe or Rendili, and Juma was said to be the only one who escaped. He has always been a good porter, except for his temper, and people have put up with that because of his strength and ingenuity.... This is cheese from John's dairy, Mrs. Burtenshaw; I can recommend it."

At this point a black servant entered, carrying a letter on a salver.

"A letter from John himself," said Mr. Gillespie, glancing at the envelope. "Now we shall hear all the news."

He broke the envelope and cast his eye over the contents, the others waiting in silence to hear what he had to say. He looked up in a moment and gave a quick glance at Mr. Halliday. Then, still holding the letter, he smiled and said--

"Shall we go into the other room, Mother, and digest this letter with some coffee?"

"Very well, my dear," said Mrs. Gillespie, rising. No one could have detected from her placid face and natural movements that she was aware that something was wrong. Oliver, who was nearest to the door, held it while the ladies passed out, and stood back for the elder men to follow.

"Go on, my boy," said Mr. Gillespie. "I'll look out some cigars I want you to try; be with you in a moment."

He took Mr. Halliday by the arm as he was passing, shut the door, and putting the letter into his hand, said--

"Read that!"

This is what Mr. Halliday read--

DEAR MR. GILLESPIE,

The farm has been raided while we were away--got away by a trick. I suspect Juma and his gang. They collared all our rifles and ammunition. Ferrier and I are starting at once to follow them up. I want you to send up somebody at once--a white man--to give an eye to things. I dare say we shall be back by the time he gets here, but it'll be just as well to have somebody on the spot in case we're longer than I expect. Sorry to trouble you, but I've got to teach Juma a lesson.

Yours in haste, D. HALLIDAY.

"That's the explanation!" exclaimed Mr. Halliday. "Can I start to-night?"

"No. This may be a serious business--the young madcap! I hope he'll turn back if he doesn't catch them at once----"

"That wouldn't be John. He'll go on till he has thrashed them."

"Then heaven help him! Man, he may find himself among a whole tribe of blood-thirsty savages. And the worst of it is we may not reach him in time. It's not merely a question of looking after the farm. We'll start as soon as it's light: I'll get a party together."

"The police?"

"No: can't wait for them. I'll go down to the club and get some fellows I can rely on. We'll go on horses and mules. We had better not alarm the women."

"We must tell them something. Better out with it, I think. They'll only think it worse than it is if they see we're keeping something back."

"Couldn't be worse. Well, perhaps you are right; but don't let 'em see we're put about."

"All right. Give me a cigar."

They strolled into the other room smoking, showing no trace of their anxiety. Mrs. Gillespie looked up quickly as her husband entered, but only said--

"Come, your coffee is poured out and getting cold."

"My own growing, ma'am," said Mr. Gillespie to Mrs. Burtenshaw, as he took his cup, "and I hope you like it."

"Mother couldn't say she doesn't, could she?" said Helen archly. "_I_ like it very much."

"Helen speaks for us all," said Mrs. Burtenshaw. "Well, what does John say?"

"Any news of the failed B.A.?" asked Joe.

"He doesn't mention him this time. In fact, it's just a note: you can't call it a letter. He has had to leave the farm for a day or two, and wants me to send up a man to look after things in his absence."

"Has Charley gone too?" asked Hilda Ferrier.

"Yes, they've both gone, or it wouldn't be necessary to ask for a man. It's lucky Mr. Halliday is on the spot, so we shan't have to hire anybody."

"Gone shooting, I suppose," said Joe.

"Or after strayed sheep," said Oliver. "They're always a trouble."

"But I don't understand," said Hilda. "You say they have gone: why didn't John get somebody before he went?"

"That shows it's sheep," replied Oliver quickly. "He'd have to start at once or he wouldn't stand much chance of getting 'em all. That's it, isn't it, Mr. Gillespie?"

"Well, no, not exactly."

"In fact," said Mr. Halliday quietly, "the farm has been robbed, and as there are no policemen in the neighbourhood, John has had to go after the robbers himself."

"Gone shooting: I said so," remarked Joe.

"Don't be absurd, Joe," said Helen.

"I'm going to take Halliday down to the club, if you'll excuse us," said Mr. Gillespie. "He'll start for the farm to-morrow----"

"So soon!" interrupted Joe quickly. "I thought we should all go together at the end of the week."

"I must go to-morrow," said Mr. Halliday, "and as I shall be off before you're up in the morning I'll say good-bye now. I'll be back in a few days, and then you can all come and view our estate. It's just as well that I am going first, for we shall have to get some rooms ready for you, you know."

He shook hands all round, and left with Mr. Gillespie, who had been speaking in an undertone to his wife. Joe Browne followed them from the room.

"I say, Cousin David," he said, "what's up?"

Hesitating a moment, Mr. Halliday put John's note into his hand. Joe whistled softly.

"I'm coming," he said. "So will Poll. What time do you start?"

"My dear boy, your mother----"

"Mother's an old trump. I shall tell her the exact state of the case quietly, of course; I won't scare the girls; and she won't turn a hair. We'll ride, I suppose? You can get us mounts, Mr. Gillespie?"

"Yes. We'll start at sunrise. You've got khaki and sun helmets?"

"Of course. We'll be ready, sir, Poll and I."

At six o'clock next morning a party of ten rode out of Nairobi. It consisted of the four men we know, with five friends of Mr. Gillespie and a Somali guide. Six were mounted on horses, the rest on mules. Two members of Mr. Gillespie's household watched them leave. One was his wife, who bid them Godspeed at the door; the other was Hilda Ferrier, who had passed a sleepless night, and looked forth from the window of her room with tired and anxious eyes.

CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH--An Attack in Force

It was within an hour of sunset when John and Ferrier reached the fort. They looked first of all to see whether it was possible to raise the stones which had been cast into the pool, for the purpose of repairing the wall, and found, as John had suspected, that they were too deep below the surface.

"We must make the best of it," said John. "It's lucky we hadn't got more of the wall down. They won't bother us to-night, that's one comfort. They'll think twice before crossing the causeway in the dark."

It proved as he had said. A careful watch was kept all through the night, but nothing happened to disturb them. As soon as there was a glimmer of light John went to the gate with Ferrier to survey the surroundings. Except for the clump of woodland half-a-mile away on the east there was nothing that afforded good cover, and it struck Ferrier that it would be a good plan to seize the wood with the fighting men before the enemy could occupy it. But when he passed over the causeway with John and a dozen of the natives they discovered to their vexation that they were too late. They had advanced but a short distance when they were met by a volley from among the trees, and though none of the party was hit, John considered it prudent to retire into the fort and await developments there.

During the rest of the day the enemy made no serious attack. The smoke from their camp-fires was seen rising above the trees, and now and then a shot was fired if any of the garrison showed themselves at the gate or in the gap of the wall; but the enemy were indifferent marksmen, and the day passed without casualties.

"Things don't look very rosy, do they?" said Ferrier, as he lay on the ground discussing the situation with John. They had found when they came to look into matters that some of the porters during their hurried flight had abandoned their loads. Two boxes of ammunition were missing, and several baskets of provisions. Said Mohammed was in great distress at the loss of the package containing cocoa, condensed milk, and marmalade. This, however, was not so serious as the loss of grain. The total food supply, including the provisions found in the fort, would not last more than three or four days; and John, though he did not say so, thought that Ferrier would have done better to retreat towards the farm than to advance chivalrously to rejoin him. He considered that it would have been possible for himself and his fighting men, unencumbered with baggage of any great weight, to have made a rapid march after demolishing the fort, and joined hands with Ferrier probably twenty miles nearer home. But fate had ordained otherwise; the situation must be faced as it existed.

"Things certainly do not look rosy," John replied to Ferrier's remark, "but they might be worse--which is a pretty rotten platitude when you come to think of it. It looks as if they mean to keep us boxed up here. We shall have to get out when our food's exhausted, or starve, and I'm inclined to think we had better make a dash for it at once, before the men get weak. These natives who live mostly on grain food soon crock up: they haven't anything like our reserve strength, whatever the vegetarians may say."

"I don't know. My poor father and I passed through a village where the people hadn't had any food for a week, and it was wonderful to see how energetic they were when they saw us coming. They were all skin and bone, dreadful-looking objects; but they weren't anything like so crocked as we should be."