Part 15

"Well, I suppose it all depends on what you are used to. We'll discuss the pros and cons of vegetarianism when we're out of this and have got a full choice of either food. At present we are likely to become air-eaters before long."

"Aerophags, eh? or chameleons: they're supposed to live on air, aren't they?"

"You seem very chirpy."

"Well, old chap, the fact is I'm so uncommonly glad we're both alive that I am perhaps inclined to be a little----"

"Light-headed," suggested John.

"If you must be serious, I don't think your notion of an immediate dash is a good one. The men have had a lot of hard marching, and we ought to give them a good rest--a full day, at any rate."

"I dare say that would be wise, but the worst of it is that it will give time for that crowd outside to grow still bigger, and the chances of our getting through them safely will be slighter than ever."

"But remember they've got to eat, as well as we, and the more there are of them the worse their position. The country we came through was practically barren, and when they have used up the food they have with them they'll have to range about for more. That'll be our chance. I vote we sit tight for a while."

"All right. Here's Said with our supper: what is it to-night, khansaman?"

"I suffer pangs, sir, in serving gents with such slops, et cetera, but cupboard is bare, sir, to quote classic of Mother Hubbard; all I can provide for sustenance is cassava bread, beans, and bovril. Incredulity of native mind, sir, is as colossal as credulity. Carved wooden stick is a devil right enough: but when I tell them my little brown bottle contains concentrated essence of stall-fed ox, lo! they grin all over their mug and ask where are its four legs."

"That's rather a good thing, for they won't envy us our supper. We shall do very well, as long as it lasts."

"Ah, sir, I remember the beautiful words of Dr. Johnson, great lexicographer: 'And every moment makes my little less.' Hunger is the best sauce, sir, but it does not fill the saucepan."

This night, like the last, was undisturbed. On the afternoon of the next day, when John had ceased to look for any offensive movement on the part of the enemy, he saw a great crowd of them issue from the wood, and come yelling across the ground towards the causeway.

"Hallo! They're getting desperate," he said to Ferrier. He immediately brought up all the men who had firearms and placed them at the gap in the wall, bidding them keep under cover and fire when he gave the word. The yelling horde were met by a volley just as they reached the landward end of the causeway; but though several men dropped it did not check the rush, and John concluded from their intense excitement that they had been stimulating their courage with fermented liquor. Some sprang on to the causeway, and began to run across it; others took to the water, which soon swarmed with black heads moving towards the fort. The garrison fired as fast as they could reload, but the men rushing in single file along the causeway did not present a good target, and the swimmers were far too numerous to be dealt with by a dropping fire from the wall. The defenders in their turn were how the mark for a fusillade from the further shore of the pool, where several Swahilis had taken up their position, finding a little shelter in the reeds, and doing their best to cover the attack of the natives. John looked eagerly among them for the big form of Juma, resolving if he saw him to pick him off; the fall of their leader might demoralize or dishearten the rest. But Juma never came in sight; apparently he was directing the movement from a place of safety in the rear.

The men running across the causeway sprang into the water when they came to the gap from which the bridge had been removed, and, swimming under water, sought to scramble on to the narrow shelf of land which ran beneath the wall at this part. At the same time those who had swum round on either side were swarming on hands and knees up the steep bank. The attack began to look more serious than John had anticipated. There were several hundreds of the assailants, and to meet these he had but forty-three, of whom only ten had rifles. The difficulty was increased by the fact that when the enemy succeeded, as some of them did, in effecting a lodgment, it was necessary that his men should show themselves above the wall in order to shoot down upon them, thus becoming exposed to the fire from the Swahilis. Leaving his riflemen at the gap to deal with the men who came over the causeway and to keep down as much as possible the fire from the shore, John ran with Ferrier to whatever part of the wall was at the moment the most seriously threatened. He had already proved the poor marksmanship of the Swahilis, and, seeing that the enemy must be prevented at all costs from entering the fort, he no longer troubled to seek cover, but ordered the men to mount the wall and make the most of their advantage in being several feet above their attackers. Ferrier and he, fully exposed to the enemy's fire, ran from place to place encouraging the men, grasping their rifles by the barrel so as to use them as clubs if any of the storming party came near the top of the wall.

The extent of rampart to be defended was so great and the enemy so numerous that in spite of all efforts many of them succeeded in scrambling up the mound. Then, having reached the top, they set their feet in crevices between the stones and clambered up with great agility, with spears in their mouths. But no sooner did they show their heads above the wall than John, or Ferrier, or some of the men were upon them, and with clubbed rifles, spears, or fists, hurled them down the slope and into the water. A few managed to mount on the wall before the defenders could reach them, and held their position for a minute or two, thrusting viciously with their spears and wounding several of the garrison. John noticed these, and, hastily loading, called to his men to drop down and then fired, following up the shot with a rush. This group waited for no more, but sprang from the wall, fell headlong on the slope, and rolled into the pool, whither one of their comrades, shot by John's rifle, had already preceded them.

In spite of these checks, the enemy still came on. Those who had been thrown down returned again to the assault, and were constantly reinforced by others. More parties gained a temporary footing on the wall; there was hand-to-hand fighting at several points at once; and John began to fear that his men would lose heart and give way before sheer weight of numbers. Neither he nor Ferrier could be everywhere, and it was noticeable that the enemy held their ground longest where the defenders had not the presence of the white men to give them confidence. The tide was turned at last by Said Mohammed, who had a brilliant inspiration. There was always a fire burning in the middle of the enclosure. It suddenly occurred to him, when he saw his party beginning to be hard pressed, to boil some water, and observing that John and Ferrier were occupied at two different points far apart, he ran towards the wall between them, where a group of the enemy were on the point of springing down into the enclosure. He carried a can full of boiling water. Aiming it at the biggest man of the group, just as he was bending forward to spring, the Bengali hurled the canful at his head. The scalding water fell not only on him, but on the man next him, and there rose two frightful yells which drowned all other sounds of combat. The injured men and their immediate comrades leapt frantically into the pool; their cries caused a weakening of the attack elsewhere; and the two white men, seizing the moment, though unaware at the time to what it was due, laid about them still more lustily with their rifles.

The savages on the side where Said Mohammed had so opportunely intervened were now seen swimming to the shore. Their panic was speedily communicated to their fellows, and in a few moments at least half of the attacking force were in retreat. The defenders being thus free to devote all their attention to the enemy in the other quarter, soon made short work of them, and after twenty minutes of exhausting effort they saw the whole force making shorewards, and scurrying back under cover. John's riflemen fired a few shots at them as they fled, but he put a stop to this, thinking that the punishment they had already received might have taught them a lesson and would break up the siege.

As he turned from the wall to see what casualties the garrison had suffered, Said Mohammed came up to him with his usually solemn face spread abroad with a smile. An empty can was swinging in his hand.

"I did that jolly well, sir: _Hoc solus feci_."

"By and by," said John impatiently, thinking that the Bengali had some trifling act to relate at epic length. Said Mohammed's smile vanished like an April sun behind a cloud. He looked sorrowfully after John's retreating form, then brightened a little as he caught sight of Ferrier.

"Esteemed sir," he said, advancing towards him, "this humble billy was the _Deus ex machina_."

"Eh! What! You aren't hurt, are you?" said Ferrier, hurrying by.

"Only in my soul," muttered Said Mohammed, gloom descending upon him. "'Slow rises worth by poverty depressed.'"

John and Ferrier spent the next half-hour in attending to the wounded. Not a man had been killed; but several were suffering from spear wounds, and still more from rifle shots. The white men were again struck by the uncomplaining patience of the injured men.

"You may call it a lack of sensibility if you like," said Ferrier, "but I guess it's a fine thing from a military point of view."

"One can understand how Wellington's army in the Peninsula, the scum of the earth, as he called them, did what they did. I wish we could do something for these poor chaps. One of them is done for, I'm afraid; I don't feel fit to-day to dig out the bullets from the others. All we can do is to bathe 'em and bandage them up; they've astonishing vitality. Did you read some time ago about a fellow who got a bullet in him in the Franco-Prussian war, and didn't have it removed till thirty years afterwards? Hallo! You've had a knock yourself."

"So have you."

"I didn't know it," said John, looking himself up and down.

"I'm sorry to say it's behind," said Ferrier, with a smile: "just under your shoulder. You'd better take your shirt off and let me see to it."

"After you. You've got a pretty gash in your neck. My face must have scared 'em, and they didn't recover till I had turned, and then jabbed me in the back."

"If we were only outside, Bill might find some of his herbs and plaster us. However, we're lucky to have got off so well, and I hope we shan't have anything worse to go through before we get back."

Said Mohammed was unwontedly silent when he brought their supper. He handed them their bovril and cassava cakes without a word. John suddenly remembered that he had brushed hastily past the Bengali just as the fight was over.

"By the way, khansaman," he said, "you began to tell me something. Sorry I was too busy to attend to you. What was it?"

"Trifling matter, sir, not worthy of august attention," murmured the man.

"You made some remark about your billy, didn't you?" said Ferrier. "I didn't quite catch it."

"Foreign lingo, sir: in short, Latin, reformed pronunciation."

"Ah! that accounts for it. I was taught by an old Westminster man. You should take pity on my ignorance, khansaman."

"Accepting your invite, sir, I take you back to critical moment when all seemed U P. The hour brings forth the man. There came into my mind the lovely words of Alfred Lord Tennyson, poet laureate--

Fill the can, and fill the cup: All the windy ways of men Are but dust that rises up, And is lightly laid again.

There was the enemy, rising up like dust; here was the can, ready to be filled. Whereupon I filled it in a jiffy, boiled it in the time ordained by nature, and with this right hand hurled it in teeth of the foe. The dust was laid, sir. Q.E.F."

"By Jove!" cried John, "I wondered why they slackened off all of a sudden. You did jolly well, khansaman."

"Shows the usefulness of English literature," said Ferrier gravely. "You never know what inspiration it may give at times of difficulty and danger."

"Verree true, sir; and it makes me feel jolly bucked to know I have such spanking good memory."

CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH--Trapped

The failure of their determined assault had evidently discouraged the enemy, for during the following day they scarcely showed themselves. John was disappointed, however, to find that it had not caused them to break up their camp. The stock of food in the fort was seriously deplenished; but after the spirit the enemy had displayed he felt that the chances of surviving a running fight with them would be small. The notion of slipping away in the darkness again occurred to him, and as he talked it over with Ferrier it suddenly came into his head to make a preliminary night sortie himself, to see how the land lay on the side of the fort remote from the enemy.

"We can carry one of the canoes to that end, lift it over the wall, and launch it without being seen."

"If there are none of the enemy about," said Ferrier. "You remember we saw a party of them cross the river to-day and march in that direction, foraging, I suppose."

"Yes, but we've never seen or heard a sign of them at night."

"That's true."

"And I say, I've another idea. We want food badly: why shouldn't I go out at night with Bill and a few others and shoot something?"

"Are you quite mad, my dear chap? Your shots would bring them on you in no time."

"Of course I shouldn't attempt to shoot anything until we were miles away from the camp. We could cover five or six miles before it was light, and if we take care not to go to windward they won't hear a single rifle-shot. A volley would be a different thing, I grant you."

"I doubt whether the reeds on that side of the pool are thick enough to hide the canoe, and if they discover it----"

"There's no need to hide it," John interrupted. "One of the men can paddle it back, and come for us again when we give you a hail. We shall have to return by night, of course."

"Well, you bowl over my objections one after another, so I suppose you must go. Can't I come too?"

"We can't both leave the place."

"Well, why shouldn't I go and you stay?"

"You see, I understand Bill better than you do, and he'll be the one to find the game. I really think, Charley, this time----"

"Oh, all right!" said Ferrier, interrupting. "This time, and that time, and all the other times!"

"But you fired the boma!"

"Is that to last me for ever?"

"And came to find me, fighting: what about that? Still, if you want to go----"

"Not a bit of it, old man. It's your idea; you go; I'll run over in my mind all the poetry I know and see if I can get a happy thought like Said Mohammed."

Two hours before dawn the canoe was gently lowered by ropes over the wall at the end of the fort opposite the gate. Here, it will be remembered, the slope of the ground immediately beneath the wall was steep, but the island jutted out, in a fairly level spit, for some distance into the pool. John, the Wanderobbo, and five other men were let down in the same way, four of them to accompany John as carriers of any game he might obtain, the fifth to paddle the canoe back when they had landed. The night was very dark; they moved with scarcely a sound; and having gained the further shore John and his companions struck off across country.

John's intention had been to go directly north, but when Bill told him that the banks of the river would be the most likely quarter in which to find game at sunrise, when the animals came down to drink, he resolved to strike off in a north-westerly direction, from which quarter the wind blew, and gain the river somewhere north of the rapids. They marched very quickly, the plain on this side of the river being open, came to the river-bank in about half-an-hour, and then tramped along up-stream, careful not to approach the water too closely for fear of crocodiles. At dawn they were, John thought, at least five miles from the fort, but he decided to go a mile or two farther before beginning operations, to lessen any risk of shots being heard in the camp.

The river wound this way and that, now between level banks, now bordered by steep bluffs thick with overhanging trees. The current was always swift, and John had been conscious ever since the start that the ground was gradually rising. Bill did not stick closely to the river: indeed, that would have been impossible; he sought the easiest way, which led sometimes through scrub, sometimes over stretches of bare rock which tried John's boots sorely, sometimes through patches of woodland: always, however, coming to the river at last. From one elevated position to which they came John looked back and, now that the morning haze had lifted, saw the river serpentining behind him, and in the far distance the pool gleaming in the sunlight, the island and fort a dark spot in the midst.

At last he considered that he had come far enough to be out of earshot from the enemy's camp, and since the nearest village, the abode of the "bad men," was about a day's march to the north-west, he felt that no danger was to be anticipated from that quarter. Accordingly the party of six descended to the level of the river, and Bill began his search for game-tracks. The river here flowed through narrow channels between great boulders of a pinkish rock, the brink being lined with reeds. Before long Bill came upon the spoor of a hippopotamus, and since necessity knows no law, John thought himself justified in following it up, in spite of the technical transgression of the terms of his licence. He was not shooting for sport, he reflected, but for food.

They came at length to a rocky pool. Bill halted, and pointing to an overhanging rock on the other side, drew John's attention to a gentle rippling disturbance of the water. In a moment appeared two red nostrils covered with coarse black hair. John lifted his rifle, but Bill signed to him to wait, and after a few seconds the nostrils sank below the surface: the animal had merely risen to breathe. They all sat down on the bank to await his reappearance. Several times during half-an-hour he showed just as much of himself, and no more. This was tantalizing. Would he never emerge? John's patience at length gave out. He thought that if he could cross to the other side he might get a fair shot at the beast, or at least stir him to movement. Looking down-stream, he saw that some little distance away the surface of the river was broken, which indicated shallow water. He hastened to the spot, and stripping to his shirt, waded across waist deep, climbed the bank, and stealthily crept up until he came directly over the place where the hippo had last appeared.

Scarcely had he arrived there when the beast heaved its great back, with a convulsion of the water, above the surface a little farther up the pool. In an instant the rifle was at his shoulder: he fired; the hippo gave a snort, and the water around him was agitated as by an immense churn. Quick as thought John fired the second barrel: and the beast rolled over on its side, with a bullet through the brain.

The four porters shouted with delight, and plunged into the water to drag the carcase to the bank with the cords they had brought with them. The current, however, carried it downwards, and wedged it between two rocks so tightly that, when they had tied the cords to the feet, all their hauling failed for a time to dislodge it. John was determined to secure the prey, which would provide two days' food for his whole party, so he stripped off his sole remaining garment and, first spying for crocodiles, swam to the assistance of the men. After ten minutes' hauling the unwieldy body was freed from the detaining rocks and drawn slowly to the bank.

The men immediately set to work to cut it up with their knives. While they were engaged in this task, John resolved to go a little farther in search of more delicate fare for Ferrier and himself. Rolling on the grass to dry himself, he put on his clothes and set off up-stream with the Wanderobbo, instructing the others to retrace their steps slowly so soon as they had tied up their loads. They had proceeded but a short distance when Bill discovered the track of congoni which had recently come down to the river to drink. Following it up, they by and by came in sight of a small herd moving leisurely across the plain to the left. Being to windward of them, it would be impossible to stalk them directly. The only chance of getting a shot was to make a long detour and come upon them from the further side. John's sporting instincts were roused. There was no fear of losing the track of his men, so he struck off with Bill at right angles to the river, and after walking rapidly for half-an-hour in a wide curve, Bill never losing sight of the game, they got ahead of them, and took cover in a clump of trees which the animals must pass if they did not change their direction. They came very slowly, and before reaching the trees swerved somewhat to the right. It was now or never. John took aim at the nearest of the herd, which presented its flank to him. His first shot brought it down: the rest, raising their heads and looking round for a moment, galloped off; and Bill hurried forward with John to cut from the dead beast as much as he could carry.

It was by this time more than an hour since they had left the men; and since it would be at least another hour before they could overtake them, John decided to hurry back as soon as Bill had prepared his load. He was sitting at the edge of the clump of trees, clasping his knees, and watching Bill's deft movements a few yards away, when he heard a slight rustling behind him. Thinking it might be a lion or hyena attracted by the scent of the game, he sprang up, grasping his rifle, only to be thrown on to his back by the onset of near a score of yelling savages. He had no opportunity of defending himself. His rifle had been knocked from his hand and was now in the possession of a tall Swahili, who grinned at him with malicious triumph as he lay on the ground, and ordered the savages to turn him over and tie his hands behind his back. Meanwhile some of the party had dashed after the Wanderobbo, who had fled towards the river at the first alarm. The old man was soon caught; John was hoisted to his feet; and in a few minutes he had the mortification of knowing that he was being marched, a prisoner, in a direction the exact opposite of the fort.

The men were in an ecstasy of delight over their capture. They laughed and jabbered among themselves, but John was unable to recognize the dialect. He could not ask Bill who they were, for the crestfallen old man was kept at a distance from him. His hands also had been tied behind his back. John ventured once to speak to the Swahili, but the only answer was a grunt.