Chapter THE TENTH: Driving Sheep to Market (4)

When they met him they told him in accents of terror that the msungu was fighting with a great host of bad men. Two or three showed wounds they had received. John ordered them to return to their loads and take them up, and then to look out for the party following him. He hurried forward into the wood, and half-a-mile further on came upon Ferrier with the rest of the safari, slowly retiring before a horde of savages. He had supposed that the "great host" of which the porters had spoken was an exaggeration born of their panic, but he saw that Ferrier and his men were, in fact, holding at bay a crowd of natives, among whom he perceived the white garments of Swahilis. Ferrier had Coja on his right and Said Mohammed on his left, each at a few yards' interval, the remainder of the party, armed only with bows and arrows, being spread out on each side over a considerable space to avoid the risk of being outflanked. They were retiring slowly, taking cover behind trees, picking off any of the enemy who showed themselves. Ferrier himself was a dead shot now that he had recovered the full use of his arm. Several men had fallen to his unerring aim. What execution Coja and Said Mohammed did John never knew; but their shots had been effective in daunting the enemy, who had not dared to come too near, or to make a rush. With a little more courage and generalship the savages, vastly outnumbering the safari, could have swept round them and had them at their mercy; but the young Canadian had hitherto managed to hold off the bolder spirits who pressed him in front, and the others followed on without as yet attempting a flanking movement.

"Good man!" cried John, as he hastened to Ferrier's side. "My lot are coming up. We had better get out of this wood, or they'll be all round us."

They retired more quickly. It was time, for when they reached the plain, they saw that parties of the enemy, who had at last realized that they were losing opportunities, had crept round to right and left. John instantly sent a shot among the nearer crowd, causing them to scatter. Then, perceiving that another party had slipped by and was hastening in pursuit of the porters, he called some of the bowmen, who were mightily encouraged by his arrival, and set off in chase. Another shot sent this party flying. John saw that the river would form an excellent defence to the left flank of his little force, and running back to Ferrier, he asked him to edge nearer to it.

"If we can only manage to keep them off until our men have had time to climb the bluff, we can make a bolt for it," he said. "Up there among the boulders we can hold our own against any number."

They retired slowly towards the belt of trees fringing the river. By the time they reached it Bill came up with the party from the fort. This reinforcement, together with the more advantageous position of the retiring force, served to check the pursuit. The enemy were not courageous enough to dash past them within range, though their numbers were so great that they could easily have afforded the loss of a few men. The only means they had of slipping past safely and overtaking the safari was either to make a wide detour across the plain, which would have given John's party time to reach the bluff before them, or to cross the river and make their way through the trees on the other bank; but the current here was swift enough to make fording dangerous. So they adopted neither course, but followed sullenly in the track of the party, firing at times, but never diminishing the distance between them.

Every now and then John crept out from cover to watch the progress of the porters. To his impatience they seemed to move extraordinarily slowly, and indeed their speed was much less than when he had first seen them, for they had reached the beginning of the ascent, and were tired with carrying their heavy loads. He could see them toiling up the bluff, not in a close line, but far apart, the rearmost being nearly half-a-mile behind the leader. At length he saw with relief that the last man was within a few yards of the summit.

"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."

"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.