CHAPTER XV--THE BACK DOOR

"Run back and see if the askaris are still there," said Tom to Mwesa.

The lad darted away through the bush that clothed the top of the bank of the defile. Returning in a few minutes, he reported that the enemy had not stirred from their position.

"Then we will go on. Keep close to me."

They made their way carefully down the slope. At the bottom they peeped over. A narrow cleft zigzagged down the face of a steep cliff, for the most part bare rock, but with trees and bushes growing here and there where soil gave them roothold. This vegetation and the windings of the cleft hid Reinecke and the Arab from sight; but several hundred feet below they could just discern, through the mist, the still surface of an expanse of water.

Mwesa's eyes opened wide with surprise.

"Don't speak," whispered Tom. "Yes; I think it is our lake."

Reinecke's purpose was now clear to him. He acquitted his sentries of negligence. Haroun had evidently discovered a hitherto unsuspected means of egress from the nullah; on his information Reinecke had brought up his askaris to take the position in reverse, but before committing them to the enterprise had gone down to test the Arab's veracity. It would take him a long time to climb down the steep and rugged cleft, hampered as he must be by his wounded arm: still longer to climb up again. What would he do when he returned? Would he at once order the attack? Daylight would last just long enough: a night attack was impossible; no sane person would attempt to descend by so precipitous a path in darkness. Would he camp for the night, and attack with the dawn? It seemed to Tom that he would hardly wait unless delay were unavoidable, for there was the chance that rain would fall again, and a tropical storm that might continue for days would render his scheme hopeless. No doubt his decision would depend on the result of his observations below.

To what point in the nullah the cleft led, Tom had at present no knowledge. It might descend to the lake side, or wind away to some spot farther down. He thought rapidly over the courses open to him. He might make his way back through the ravine, plunge into the bush, and hurry along parallel with the nullah until he gained the entrance. Thereby he might provide against the threatened attack and perhaps take measures for a counterstroke. But one consideration told heavily against this idea. At his best speed he could hardly expect to reach the barricade before dark, and meanwhile Reinecke, if he found the secret way so easy as Haroun had apparently declared, might have led his men into the nullah, taken the people by surprise, and overcome what resistance they were able to make without their leader.

What alternative was there? If Reinecke once rejoined the askaris waiting in the defile nothing could avail to check him. It was impossible to slip past him on the narrow cleft, and organise the defence while he returned for his men. Could he be prevented from returning? Without him the German lieutenant would probably hesitate to risk a plunge into the unknown. Tom thought that Mwesa and himself should be a match for Reinecke and the Arab; but if a cry or a shot reached the ears of the men waiting above, all would end in disaster.

The only chance of success seemed to lie in following Reinecke down the cleft and lying in wait for him at some spot where he could be taken at a disadvantage. Tom hurriedly whispered his plan to Mwesa, then stepped down into the cleft and began his careful descent.

The frequent windings of the narrow gully, the patches of vegetation, the boulders that stood up here and there, rendered detection from below unlikely; but Tom moved very warily, peering round every corner, every bush and rock, listening for voices or footsteps. The lower he and the negro descended, the more cautious they were. Once or twice Tom slipped, and had to catch at a tree or a shrub to prevent himself from slithering down. No such mishaps befell the barefooted negro, and Tom wished that his soles were so hardened as to enable him to discard his boots. Step by step they crept downward. Presently they caught sight of the opposite side of the nullah, a rugged precipice looming through the mist, with a portion of the lake cut off at its base. A little farther down Tom stopped suddenly. Twenty or thirty feet below him Reinecke and the Arab, side by side, were lying on a big rock that appeared to jut out from the cliff, and were peering down. No doubt they were hidden by the rock from the sight of the people below--how far below Tom could not tell, for the camp and the lowest stretch of the cleft were invisible to him.

Mwesa, clutching his knife, looked expectantly at his master. Tom could have shot the two men where they lay; but apart from a natural repugnance to killing them unawares, he knew that the sound of shots would rise to the party above and put them on the alert. Whatever he did must be done without noise.

Drawing Mwesa back, he led him some little distance up the cleft until he came to a shallow recess, partly concealed by a patch of bush. Here they could wait until the men below reached them in their upward climb. Tom withdrew behind the bush, bidding Mwesa stand a little forward and watch: his dark body would be less likely to attract the eyes of the climbers.

It was some time before they heard slow footsteps on the cleft below them, and then ejaculations from Reinecke complaining of the steepness of the ascent. Then Mwesa reported that the German had rounded a bend; the Arab was just behind him. Tom drew the lad back behind the bush.

"Deal with Haroun," he whispered, "when I have dealt with Reinecke."

The two men mounted slowly. Tom waited until the German had come within two or three paces of him, then stepped out into the middle of the narrow path. Reinecke, a foot or two below him, looked up. His face paled beneath the bronze: he recoiled, and fumbled for his revolver. Before he could grasp it Tom sprang at him, and with one deftly aimed blow on the point of the chin hurled him against the side of the cleft. He fell like a log. At the same moment Mwesa darted past his master, and flung himself on the Arab, who had halted in consternation at the sudden onslaught. He stepped back, warded off Mwesa with his arm, and turned to escape down the cleft. Before he had taken three steps the negro had recovered himself, and plunged his knife into the Arab's back.

So swiftly, so silently had things been done that no sound could have reached the ears of any one who had chanced to be within a hundred paces.

Tom bent down over the German. He was unconscious. Strange fate, that had made him for the second time the captive of the man he had wronged!

"Watch him," said Tom to Mwesa. "Call me if he revives before I come back."

He went down the cleft until he reached the rock on which the men had lain. Climbing it, he looked over upon the huts fifty or sixty feet below, the lake near by, and a considerable stretch of the nullah. There were signs of excitement among the people, who were gathered in knots, talking and gesticulating. The German prisoners, standing in front of their hut in the middle of the island, evidently suspected that something had happened, some emergency had arisen, for they were shouting, beckoning to the men nearest the margin of the lake.

"I had better reveal myself at once," thought Tom.

He stood up on the rock, put his whistle to his lips, and blew the signal for "Fall in." The voices, the movements, of the people ceased as by magic. They looked around in amazement, facing down the nullah, from which direction numbers of the fighting-men came running. These asked eagerly where the m'sungu was: they had heard his whistle; he must be among them again. But no one had seen him. Again the whistle sounded. Some of the men glanced upward, and saw Tom standing on the rock. For one moment they were transfixed with surprise; then a great shout broke from their lips; the women and children flocked around them, leaping and screaming with excitement and joy; and Tom wondered what effect the hubbub would have on the enemy waiting in the ravine.

Signalling that he would soon be with them, he returned to the spot where he had left Reinecke and Mwesa. The German gave signs of returning consciousness. In a minute or two he opened his eyes and stared dully up into Tom's face. Recollection came to him gradually; he tried to rise, his hand again seeking his revolver. The holster was empty; Mwesa had taken that weapon, and also his sword.

"You are my prisoner," said Tom. "We will now go down to my camp."

Reinecke cursed him.

"You strike a one-armed, helpless man," he said. "You treacherous hound!"

Tom was taken aback by this strange accusation. He had had so little experience of the German soldier that he did not understand that curious attitude of mind which views everything a German does as right and proper, but the same thing done by others as infamous and base. The charge of treachery from the man who had trapped him, left him to die, and only a few hours before this moment had fired at him when he too had been taken unawares, struck him dumb. Then, curtly, impatiently, he said:

"Come, we will waste no time. You can walk, I think. Mwesa, lead on. Find the way into the nullah. Follow him, Herr Reinecke: I shall be two paces behind you."

Mwesa scampered down the steep descent like a young roe: the others followed more prudently. When Tom arrived at the rock from which he had viewed the camp, Mwesa was not to be seen. But a moment later his laughing face showed round the base of the rock, like a child playing peep-bo.

"Dis way, sah," he cried; "dis way."

At one side of the rock was the top of a narrow channel that wound down the face of the cliff. So steep was this latter that not even a mountain goat could have scaled it safely; but Nature had so carved the channel that it formed a zigzag pattern, like those paths which the art of man has cut in precipitous cliffs at popular resorts on our coasts. Down this rough path the two men followed Mwesa, hidden from the sight of those below by the contour of the cliff.

About twenty feet above the ground the zig-zagging ceased, and the channel took a sheer drop, almost entirely concealed by bushes. While Tom, standing on a ledge of rock, wondered how the final descent was to be achieved, Mwesa had found the way. Clinging to the tough stems and branches of the bushes, he went down a few feet, then stopped and turned his face upward.

"Ladder here, sah," he called.

The Arab had, in fact, so bent the branches and stems, and so connected them by means of strands of creepers, as to form a light ladder that spanned the last dozen feet of the descent. Hidden by the overgrowing vegetation, it might have been passed and repassed hundreds of times without being discovered.

Mwesa clambered down, and bounded among the excited people who had clustered in expectation of the m'sungu's reappearance. After a minute or two, Reinecke emerged from the foliage, and stood glowering, an image of sullen rage, upon the negroes who had once owned him master. Fingers were pointed at him, yells of derision mocked him: even the children strutted in front of him, as if to vaunt their freedom. One of the elder men stepped forward with menacing gestures: but he was checked by a stern command from Tom, who had just appeared. He was hailed with renewed shouts of triumph; some of the people threw themselves at his feet, as slaves bow to their lord. Tom's lips quivered; he felt a lump rise in his throat. Then he called to Mwesa, who was pouring out an eloquent story to the crowd surrounding him.

"Go down to the barricade," he said. "See whether the guards are at their posts, and bring Mirambo to me."

He signed to the people to fall back to their huts, and beckoned to Moses, who had been hanging on the outskirts of the crowd, looking with a somewhat nervous and sheepish air at his late master.

"Give Herr Reinecke some food," said Tom. "Herr Reinecke, you will remain where you are for the present. You cannot escape: if you make an attempt you will be shot. I will give you proper quarters presently."

The German responded with a glare of venomous hate, and turned away.