CHAPTER X--A BREATHING SPACE

On arriving at the entrance to the nullah, Tom found that Mirambo had already herded the women and children beyond the first bend, something less than a quarter of a mile away, and was superintending the bestowal of the stores still farther up, on natural ledges in the steep bank.

At the southern extremity the nullah was about sixty yards wide. In the middle a shallow stream rippled over the rocky bottom, disappearing in places beneath tangled masses of vegetation. Trees of many kinds grew on the steep walls, acacias and euphorbias predominating, and on both sides of the stream there were many patches of scrub, mimosa, and thorn, rendering the passage by no means easy. But these natural obstacles must be supplemented by art if the place was to be made even tolerably secure, and Tom lost no time in putting the necessary works in operation.

He first posted a score of riflemen in the scrub about two hundred yards south of the nullah, putting Mirambo in charge of them, with orders to fire one volley if the enemy appeared, and then to withdraw. Next he set all available men to clear away, with the tools brought from the plantation, all the bush that grew thickly in front of the entrance, in order to give a field of fire. The negroes, many of whom had been employed in clearing the ground for the plantation, were experts at the job, and when more than a hundred men work with a will the result is almost magical. In half an hour the space was free from every stump and root.

Allowing them a few minutes for rest, during which the men who had shared in his delaying action delighted the rest with very tall stories of their prowess, he set them to fell a number of trees with which to construct a barricade across the entrance. While they were thus engaged, Mwesa came to him.

"Haroun say want speak, sah."

"Haroun is one of the overseers, isn't he? Well, bring him down."

Mwesa soon returned with one of the prisoners, whom Tom knew by sight--a tall, lean Arab, with strongly marked features and piercing eyes. Addressing Tom very humbly in broken German, he begged to be allowed to take service with him. He had not been long in Reinecke's pay; indeed, he had been reluctant to accept employment with the German; nay more, he had actually been forced to do so, for he was headman of an Arab village on the Great Lake, and his village would have been destroyed if he had not obeyed the call of the German "big master."

Tom did not much like the look of the man, but, true to Mr. Barkworth's counsel to "keep an open mind," he decided not to stand on mere prejudice; and after learning from Mwesa that the Wahehe had nothing against this latest comer among the overseers, he accepted the Arab's offer, and instructed him to superintend the erection of the barricade.

Time would not allow of the construction of a regular stockade, with poles properly cut and trimmed, and deeply planted in the ground. It seemed to Tom that the most effective barrier that could be quickly raised would consist of small trees with their foliage, set as closely together as might be, with their crowns pointing outwards, in the form of a rough _chevaux de frise_. The men were set to work on those lines. Some felled or uprooted young trees from the slopes of the nullah, others hauled them to the bottom, and a third gang arranged them side by side across the entrance. Meanwhile a party of boys was employed in cutting brushwood and piling it here and there among the trees where the foliage was thin. A single gap was left on the east side as a gateway for the scouts.

The work had only just been roughly accomplished when a scattered volley from Mirambo's party apprised Tom that the enemy had at last appeared. Immediately afterwards he saw his men running back from the line of bushes, and they had no sooner gained the entrance to the nullah than a regular volley flashed from the cover they had just left.

Tom posted his men along the inner side of the barricade, ordered them to kneel, pass the muzzles of their rifles through the brushwood, and fire at the legs of the enemy askaris when he gave the word. Haroun the Arab begged to be entrusted with a rifle: but Tom, remembering another of Mr. Barkworth's maxims, "Prove all men," refused the request until he should have tested his new recruit. A turncoat has to win confidence.

The enemy, however, did not repeat their volley. Apparently they were daunted by the aspect of the barricade which had sprung up so unexpectedly, and which, in the distance, looked formidable enough. Their hesitation to storm it was reasonable, especially if they were in no great strength; and Tom, though he could see nothing of them through the screen of bushes, had come to the conclusion that the vast number his scouts had reported was a figment of their lively imagination. No German, in command of any considerable body of disciplined men, would have been so sluggish in following up a horde of untrained negroes.

Near the barricade the sides of the nullah sloped up steeply, but were easily scalable. It occurred to Tom that the enemy might wait until nightfall and then attempt to turn his position. That, however, would involve obvious difficulties and dangers; the German could hardly afford to divide his force, if it were indeed a small one. At any rate such an operation could be defeated by unremitting vigilance, and meanwhile there was all the rest of the day, supposing his conjecture were well founded, in which to push on with his defensive works. Posting, then, some of the riflemen under cover of the vegetation on either slope, Tom set the other men to fill up the gaps in the barricade. They worked with the eagerness of those who have faith in their leader, and before the sun set Tom had the satisfaction of seeing his wall complete--a rough, slight defence, indeed--but likely to be effective against nothing worse than rifle fire.

By the time darkness fell, he had begun to realise that the position of a commander-in-chief is not one to be coveted. In his own small sphere he had had, as he frankly put it to himself, quite enough of it. The physical and nervous strain of the last few days; the sense of responsibility for the welfare of the people who had so readily put their trust in him; above all, perhaps, the want of sleep; had almost, in his own words again, knocked him out. Yet he dared not even sleep while the enemy was at hand. Without him the Wahehe would be simply an unorganised mob. There was nothing for it but to reconcile himself to another wakeful night, to ensure that his sentries were alert, and to leave the organisation of the people, in their retreat up the nullah, to a hoped-for leisure.

The night passed undisturbed, except for false alarms. Unaccustomed to night watching, the negroes more than once declared that they heard footsteps, and even saw faces. One of them fired off his rifle in nervous excitement at the dangers his imagination had conjured up. Their fears proved to be baseless; and in the morning, when Tom warily climbed the slope to a point from which he could overlook the ground beyond the bushes, there was no sign of the enemy. A little suspicious, he sent Mushota out to creep round the position, and, if the enemy had indeed decamped, to follow them up and see what they were about. In an hour the lad returned, elation beaming from his broad smiling face. He reported that the askaris were marching swiftly back towards the plantation; in fact, they were running away! Tom did not contradict him: the belief that the enemy had fled would encourage the people; he himself thought it likely enough that they had been recalled for more important work than rounding up a gang of mutinous recruits. But Reinecke had escaped, and Reinecke, he felt sure, would never rest until he had made a bid for vengeance on the man who had committed the crime that a rascal never forgives--found him out.

"Pity he's gone, after all," thought Tom.

Now that no immediate danger was to be feared, he allowed himself the indulgence of a couple of hours' sleep, leaving Mirambo in charge. Refreshed by this all too brief rest, he went up the nullah to see how the greater part of his people were getting on. Not at all to his surprise, he found that nothing whatever had been done by way of organisation. The negro at best has little initiative, and these emancipated slaves, in unfamiliar surroundings, had taken no thought except to feed themselves, which they had done uncommonly well. Tom was not prepared to follow his mother's prescription with a new housemaid: give free run until they made themselves ill. Economy might be vitally necessary: he saw that his first task must be that of food controller. He called up Reinecke's head servant, a fat negro from one of the coast tribes.

"I want you to listen to me, Moses," he said. "You see what has happened. I have brought the people away for two reasons: first, to free them, then to prevent the men from fighting for the Germans. You are no longer Herr Reinecke's servant, but my prisoner--unless you like to take service with me. I tell you frankly I can't pay you, at present; but the Germans are going to be beaten, you understand; don't make any mistake about that; and when I get to Abercorn I will pay you your full wages, and something extra if you serve me well. Think it over."

Now Moses, like all the other servants, had fallen under the spell of Tom's personality. To put it shortly, Reinecke frowned, Tom smiled. Further, he had been greatly impressed by the stories told him by the Arabs and by Mirami: the moral victory over the German sergeant and the humbling of Reinecke were events that specially struck a negro's imagination. If all Englishmen were like this one, it was not at all incredible to Moses that the Germans would be beaten indeed. Why not serve the Englishman, then--and get extra pay? It seemed worth trying.

Moses thought it over while Tom was counting the rifles and cases of ammunition. His choice was made.

"Very well," said Tom, when the man came to him. "Now I want you to take stock of the provisions, and tell me how long they ought to last if we are careful. The people have been helping themselves freely, I see. We can't have that."

Tom's use of the plural flattered the negro's self-importance. He set about his first task with alacrity, and reported presently that the food would last six or eight weeks if the women were kept in order. Tom delighted him by arranging that each head of a family and each independent man should come to Moses once a week for his supply of food.

"We'll see how it works," he thought.

He had made up his mind to release and dismiss the askaris; they would only be so many useless mouths to feed. But when he told them they were to go they looked by no means pleased. They gazed blankly at him and at one another, then withdrew in a knot and talked among themselves. Presently one of them came back, and said that none of them wished to go. They hated the Germans: they would rather serve the Englishman.

Tom looked at them squarely.

"Don't make any mistake," he said. "You will not have an easy time if you stay with me. You will have to work hard."

The man asked if they were to fight.

"I can't tell you that. You will not have rifles, at any rate, until you have shown that you are faithful."

Would they have to drill?

Tom smiled. He had watched recruits in barrack-yards in Germany, and he made a shrewd guess that the African askari did not find the German drill-sergeant a very gentle taskmaster.

"You may have to do my drill," he said. "You don't know what that is? Then you had better stay a few days and look on while I drill the Wahehe. If you don't like it, you shall be free to go."

The askari's artless question drew Tom's thoughts to a survey of his position. He had brought the people away. For the present, apparently, they were safe. What course was he to lay down for them and for himself? He was handicapped by ignorance of what was happening on the border forty miles away. From a remark let fall by Reinecke during that unforgettable dinner in the bungalow he surmised that the British in Northern Rhodesia were likely to be on the defensive at the opening of the campaign. The Germans, he knew, had a much larger military force on the frontier, and from what Reinecke had said, they were energetically raising new levies among the natives. It would be unlike the British, an extraordinary break-away from their traditions, if they were not taken by surprise, not slow in waking up, not tenacious and successful when fully aroused.

Tom's conclusion was that he must sit tight. He might try to open up communications with the British, with a view either to a dash across the frontier, or to joining them if they should advance into German territory. Meanwhile, though for some reason unknown the small force that had followed him up had drawn off, he was virtually besieged. His first task, then, was to put his position into as thorough a state of defence as was possible, and to establish such order among the little community as would further his ultimate design.

"And I've got all my work cut out," he thought, somewhat drearily. Then he smiled as he remembered his brother. "Wouldn't Bob grin! By George, though, if we're at war Bob will want to be in it! Of course he will! The business will go to pot. What a rum world it is!"