Chapter THE TENTH: Driving Sheep to Market (6)

But at this moment a shout was raised that the enemy were attacking from the other side of the island. Ferrier instantly sprang down from his perch, and calling on his men to follow him, rushed across the enclosure to repel this new assault. John, perforce confined to his post, ordered his company to join the others, while he alone kept watch on the causeway. Being undisturbed, he had leisure to consider what the enemy's plan had been. He could not doubt that they had arranged in their council of war that the Swahilis with their party should cross the river and creep under cover of the trees and scrub to the western shore of the pool. The intention had certainly been that the attack should be made on both sides of the fort simultaneously. If it had been perfectly timed, and begun at a concerted signal, the plight of the garrison might have been very serious. But careful co-operation is impossible to the negro. The men on the eastern side had rushed blindly to the assault, heedless of what the other party was doing. These, led by Juma himself, had made their way unobserved to the place arranged, and swum the pool under cover of the fringe of trees which were still left standing. But only one or two had landed when they heard the din of fighting on the other side. Juma, more intelligent than the negroes, had seen at once the necessity of striking while the garrison was engaged in that quarter. But he was compelled to wait until he had sufficient support, and by the time he had gathered a score of men about him the eastern attack was beaten off, and the defenders were hurrying to meet him.

When Ferrier reached the wall, he saw the Swahilis and their followers coming up the slope in a straggling body. The moment they perceived him, they halted; those who had rifles fired them off, too hurriedly to take effective aim; the others let fly a shower of arrows. Then they all rushed forward, a disorderly shouting mob. Ferrier fired his rifle, but his men had not had time to reload, having hastened from the bastion immediately after the final volley upon the causeway. The enemy had come within about twenty yards of the wall when Ferrier, whipping out his revolver, snapped a shot at Juma and winged him. The big man fell to the ground with a howl of pain; his men halted in consternation. This was not the easy victory they had been promised. Their hesitation was fatal. It had given time to the men on the wall to load their pieces. A general fusillade spattered bullets among the waverers; it quickened them into action, but instead of continuing their advance they turned tail and bolted down the slope, pursued by a shower of arrows. Juma had risen, and struggled along with the help of two of his kind. They fled with all speed among the trees, and the garrison, yelling with delight, saw them no more that day.

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND--A Counter Stroke

John had every reason to be satisfied when he took stock of the results of the action. The enemy had been thoroughly routed, with considerable loss: he had no men killed, and only a few with superficial flesh wounds. But he looked grave enough when, at dinner-time, Ferrier confessed that he had already had to put the men on half rations.

"Our only hope is that the enemy have had enough of it and will clear off," he said. "The 'bad men,' at any rate, won't think much of their job."

"And Juma himself has had a reminder that won't leave him for a few days. But if they _don't_ clear off----"

"We must wait and see. There ought to be plenty of fish in this pool; couldn't we try a little angling?"

"What about hooks?"

"Well, there are some empty condensed milk-tins; we can make some sort of hooks out of them. And as for bait--I say, look there!"

Two vultures were swooping down upon the western end of the island.

"Sickening!" said Ferrier, with a shudder. "I'll go and pot them and get the men to attend to things there. The birds will give us bait, and the men may like to eat them--I couldn't."

Several large hooks were made out of milk-tins. A piece of rope was unravelled to form lines, and several of the men were soon sitting on the causeway, angling with portions of the vultures which Ferrier shot. In the course of an hour or two they caught several fish, large and small; but the total quantity was insignificant in comparison with what was needed to give all a full meal. They were all rather hungry when they settled down for the night, and the white men devoutly hoped that when morning dawned they would see that the enemy's force had broken up.

In this they were disappointed. Daylight showed them parties of negroes hovering on the outskirts of the wood. That their intention was to resume their old tactics of watching the fort was proved before the day was over. A long line of women was observed coming from the north, bending under heavy loads.

"Grub for them," said Ferrier. "They're short, like us: but they can draw on the village while we starve."

"I wonder if we could intercept a convoy," suggested John.

"Very risky: practically impossible. We couldn't tell when it's coming. We might have to wait a day or two, and miss it after all. Besides, we might be cut off; they're strong enough to keep us out if they get between us and the fort; and the garrison would be so much weakened that they couldn't hold out against a general attack. No: we mustn't think of it."

"Well, it looks as if we must either break out or starve. We may starve in any case. We didn't pass a single cultivated field on the way up, and if we made a dash for home we should have to depend on game and what wild fruits we could pick up. I don't know what on earth we can do, that's a fact."

Next day saw them no nearer a solution of the problem. The enemy were still in force, and the punishment they had received had not sufficed to detach the "bad men," who were easily distinguishable from the other negroes by their characteristic equipment. Juma had in fact persuaded them that the surrender of the white men was only a matter of time: they could not live without food, and while they remained in the fort to obtain food was impossible.

"Look here, Charley," said John that afternoon, "we can't stand this any longer. It's neck or nothing, and I'm for a bold course. That village up yonder is crammed with food-stuff of all kinds. They've just been harvesting. I vote we make a dash for it and seize enough to last us best part of the way home. All the fighting men are away, or nearly all. If we can only get there it'll be easy enough to capture the place and hold it as long as we like: there's a good stockade. But I don't want to hold it. We might stay there a day or two until our men are fed up, and then make tracks. Perhaps we'd have the luck to escape them; it's not likely, I admit. They would be between us and the farm: we should have to be uncommonly clever to dodge them; and as we couldn't move fast, with our men loaded, they're bound to come up with us some time or other. That would mean a fight in the open; perhaps a running fight for miles, with the odds of numbers against us. But I prefer fighting to starving; and it's Hobson's choice."

"It means a night march."

"Yes, but the men won't mind that. We haven't failed in anything so far, and success goes a long way with them."

"Your escape has bucked them more than anything. Bill has told them some wonderful story about your voyage on the raft, and if you talked about taking a trip to the moon I believe they'd think it feasible."

"Things couldn't be better, then. Suppose we start about eight o'clock--the enemy will all be asleep by then--we should have ten hours' grace before sunrise, more than long enough to get to the village, barring accidents."

"That is, if they don't find out that we've gone."

"Of course. I don't see why they should do that. They've never shown any inclination to attack us in the darkness, and if any of them keep a watch on the causeway side, they certainly don't at the other end, or Coja couldn't have got in. That's our way out. We shall have to keep the men quiet, but we've done that before, and when we've explained to them what's at stake they'll be on their mettle. We'll cross the pool in the canoes, and the paddles won't make any sound that they can hear, if we're careful."

"I've an idea. While we're ferrying our things over, and most of the men, why not start the others on a sing-song? That would drown any noise we might make."

"And wake the enemy! They'd wonder what was up. Why should we disturb their rest? Better not make any difference in our usual ways, I think: keep our fires burning, and give 'em no reason to think we're doing anything out of the ordinary."

"You're right. There's a risk that in spite of all our care they'll hear something, but it will take 'em some time to make sure that we've gone, and it's ten to one they won't pursue us in the darkness."

"And when they do find out, in the daylight, they'll probably waste some time in picking up the trail, unless they are good trackers, which we've no evidence of. I fancy we shall get, as I said, a good ten hours' start of them, and I defy 'em to catch us then--again barring accidents."

"D'you think you can stand the march?"

"I'm going to chance it, anyway. Your rubbings have done me a deal of good, and we can't go very fast at night, so I think I'll manage to keep up. If I can't, you must just sling me on to a litter. I'm eleven stone two--or was; I suspect I've lost a few pounds lately; but four men could toddle along with me, and a dozen will have loads in any case. There's the ammunition, and all that flummery I gave to them; they won't want to leave that."

"Suppose we find that some of the war-party have gone back?"

"It's not likely. They're here with the idea of getting loot, and not a man Jack of them will be willing to lose the chance of his share. Anyway, we must risk it. If we have luck we shall get to the village before it's light, and a sudden rush will have the effect it always has on them."

"Well, it sounds rather promising, and, upon my word, I'm itching to be off."

"All in good time, old man. I wish we could all have a good feed before we start, but perhaps the men will march the better with the promise of a meal before them."

The preparation of the men's loads was set about betimes. The absence of large quantities of food was an advantage; the other goods could easily be carried by twelve of the men, and the labour would be lightened by transferring the loads to the others in turn.

There was much excitement among the negroes when John explained his plan to them. The past successes had given them entire confidence in their leaders; and the prospect of actually capturing the village of the notorious "bad men" had a spice of daring about it which lent it a certain charm.

At nightfall the canoes were let down over the wall and carried to the shore. Then the men conveyed the stores to them, moving so silently that only a very alert enemy could have detected the activity. The canoes had to make several journeys across the pool before all the goods and the men were ferried over. There was not a sound from the enemy's encampment. When all were safely landed, John called the men about him, and repeated his instructions to march quietly and above all to beware of straggling; then he set off with Bill to lead the way. Behind him came in order four askaris carrying rifles: then the twelve men with the ammunition and the assortment of oddments found in the fort; then six men bearing in litters three others whose wounds prevented them from marching. After these came the rest of the negroes, among whom the prisoner taken at the camp was enrolled, Ferrier and Coja bringing up the rear to ensure that there was no straggling at the end of the line.

It was a dark night, but the sky was clear and the air cold. To make a direct course was impossible. Bill knew the way in the daytime, but at night he was completely at a loss. John, however, was aware of the general direction, and by keeping within touch of the river, as he could easily do by his sense of hearing, he knew that he could not go very far wrong, though the journey would necessarily be longer than if he had been able to avoid the windings. Fortunately in this hilly country the ground was much less obstructed by tangles of thorn than it was in the less elevated districts to the south, and the safari was not hindered by the annoying necessity of having to cut a way through pathless jungle.

Nevertheless, the march was not devoid of trials and discomforts. The ground was very irregular, and at one point, where the bank of the river rose to a considerable height above the water-level, they found that they had come to a stretch of hard gravel interspersed with large fragments of a whitish rock, making progress very slow and difficult. Looking back, John saw the glow of the fires left burning in the fort--a little patch of red amid deep black. When they descended to grassy land again he stumbled over an obstruction about three feet high, which Bill told him was an ant-hill. A little further on he heard a strange whistling that seemed to come from a line of trees on his left hand. Hearing the men behind gulping, he halted, and got them to exchange loads, listening meanwhile to the weird and mournful sound, which now increased in volume, now died away in a doleful wail. He asked Bill if he recognized the sound as that of an animal, but he replied that he had never heard it before. After a few moments John observed that the sound rose and fell with the gusts of wind, and concluded that it was caused by the breeze sweeping through the trees. He reassured the men; but it was not till long afterwards he discovered the origin of the sound. The trees were a species of thorn about eight feet high, with leafless branches on which hung a number of hollow seed-pods. In these an insect bores a hole, and the wind, passing through the innumerable tiny apertures, produces the musical notes which so much disturbed the negroes.

After about two hours, John felt much fatigued. The continued exertion had revived the dull aching pain in his back and limbs, and he thought it prudent to rest awhile. The progress had been so good that he could afford to waste an hour: there would still be time to reach the village before the dawn. The whole party lay down on a grassy knoll, speaking only in whispers. Occasionally the cry of some night-bird broke the stillness, and once there came, from far away, the sharp bark of a hyena. At the end of an hour the safari was again on foot. Twice more John found himself compelled to halt, and after the second time Ferrier persuaded him to let four of the men carry him, in a litter which they quickly made by slinging one of the blankets between two rifles. Always taking the river as guide, they pressed on again. At last, when the sounds of re-awakening life in the trees proclaimed that dawn was at hand, they came to the foot of a long grassy acclivity which John felt sure led up to the village. After a consultation with Ferrier, he decided to wait a little until there was light enough to show them the way clearly. The air was misty, but the blackness of night was passing, and at length they were able to see the goal of their long march--the "bad men's" village, lying in perfect stillness on the hill-top.

John led the men among some trees, and waited until he saw the gate opened, and a number of women come out and wend their way into the plantations to the left. When they were out of sight, he ordered the men to leave their loads and follow him closely without a sound. Then, regardless of his pain, he led the way at a steady run up the hill. Ferrier came to his side.

"We do this together, old boy," he said.

On they went. They had almost reached the stockade when a woman in the fields to the left saw them, and uttered a loud shriek. John quickened his pace; the men, unable to restrain themselves any longer, raised their voices in a tremendous shout. A few seconds later the whole party, the white men still leading, dashed through the gate, and along the single street, causing a wild stampede among the children playing there, and the women who were moving about. The uproar drew several men from their huts, where they were no doubt indulging themselves in a final nap while their womenkind prepared breakfast. Almost all were old men. At the sight of the invading horde they yelled and fled. John hurried on towards the compound where he had seen the war-party assemble. As the scared negroes left the street vacant, he was struck with amazement at the sight that met his eyes. At the entrance of a hut at one side of the central space stood a figure in white. He had risen from bending over a cooking-pot. Next moment Said Mohammed came towards his master, walking leisurely, his face beaming with smiles.

"Good morning, sir," he said blithely. "You have come in nick of time. Banana fritters, new dish to savage with untutored mind, are done to a turn. On point of tickling unappreciative palates, they now serve nobler end, delectating connoisseur who knows what's what. With respect, sir, I'm jolly glad to see you."

Thus the village of the "bad men" was carried without a blow.

John sent Coja back with a few men to bring in the loads and secure the gate. Then he lost no time in hunting through the village, and learnt, as he had hoped, that there were very few men left in it; and these for the most part old and negligible as a fighting force. He had given strict orders to his party not to injure any one wantonly. The women, seeing that there was no burning or slaughtering, recovered from their first fright. They recognized the prisoner in whom they had been so much interested, and their curiosity overcoming every other feeling, they drew slowly nearer to the strangers, uttering little shrieks of excitement. John made them understand that the men were hungry, and they ran with alacrity into their huts, not at all averse from preparing a meal for such inoffensive visitors. Meanwhile Said Mohammed had instantly seized his own cooking-pot and other utensils from the men who carried them, and set to work to cook more banana fritters and other dainties to which the white men had been strangers for many a day. Before long the whole party were seated, enjoying a capital breakfast, the men laughing and chattering like light-hearted children. In the midst of the repast they broke into song, one of them chanting a line of solo, the rest chiming in with a boisterous chorus.

(Solo) Where did the white men go in the night?
(Chorus) They went to the place of the bad men.
(Solo) Why did they go to the place of the bad men?
(Chorus) To get very much food
For themselves and the good men.
The white men must eat,
The black men must eat,
In the place of the bad men is very much food,
O, eat all the food of the bad men.

John smiled rather wistfully as he translated the song to Ferrier.

"Poor devils!" he said. "They don't think of what they may have to go through before they get home. Just like children.... We thought we'd never see you again, khansaman. What became of you?"

"Sir, I will round unvarnished tale deliver. Crossing stream, a thousand horse-leeches take fancy to my nether extremities, and cling like grim death. I make saltatory gyrations to shunt obnoxious hangers-on, when lo! enter crocodile, without introduction, his room better than his company. I was in blue funk, sir, and scooted, with celerity and splash. In agitation of moment I forgot my pals, and when I look round, behold! they are no more. I call: no answer; I call again: silence that can be felt. You could hear a pin drop. In the charming words of the handsome but afflicted Lord Byron--

'What next befell me then and there
I know not well--I never knew:'

but when I came to myself, to quote from same sublime poem--

'I had not strength to stir, nor strive,
But felt that I was still alive,'

for, below, leeches suck my vital fluid; above, black men have me in grip as firm as metropolitan bobby. They propel me, sir, with indignity to reverse of the medal, to this identical spot.

'First came the loss of light, and air,
And then of darkness too:'

in other words, I, Said Mohammed, failed B.A. of Calcutta University, am consigned to ignominious horizontal extension on floor of beastly hovel. I suffer in silence,

'Nor call the gods with vulgar spite
To vindicate my hapless right.'

--Allow me to offer you another fritter, sir."

"Thanks. What next? Fire away!"

"After horrid night, sir, over which I draw veil of decency, I am transported into light of day. Hail, smiling morn! I purchase freedom by generous offer to teach fair sex a thing or two. Casting pearls before swine, sir; pains thrown away. But I earn my salt, and the rest is blank page, clean slate, until I hear the tramp of armed men, and behold, the grand finale!"

"I am glad things have ended so well," said John. "And I must say, khansaman, it was very handsome and plucky of you to undertake a search for me."

The Bengali bowed deprecatingly; then he said--

"But alas! sir, the web of our life is mingled yarn, both good and evil together, as says sweet swan of Avon. There is fly in ointment; gilt is off ginger-bread. Coja, very good chap, has left sublunary sphere. 'He will awake no more, oh, never more!' to quote the words of Percy Bysshe Shelley, also failed B.A. We ne'er shall look upon his like again. Who would not weep for---- By gum! This knocks me silly all of a heap! There he is!"

"Yes," said John, laughing, "and you can exchange notes while I take a look round."

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-THIRD--The Ivory

John reckoned that his escape from the fort would probably have been discovered about the same time as he was entering the village. The enemy would almost certainly suppose that his flight had been southward, towards the farm. Several hours might be wasted in pursuing in that direction; even if they hit upon his trail at once, it would be four or five hours before they could reach him. His course, then, must be to take advantage of this respite to prepare the safari for the struggle that could scarcely be avoided when they came to close quarters.

Issuing from the village with Ferrier, he made his way to the cultivated fields, which, lying on the sheltered slopes of the hill, were more fertile than might have been expected at such a height above sea-level. Much of the harvesting had been done: he had already noticed that the shambas were filled to overflowing with muhindi and pumpkins. But the banana-trees were weighed down with huge clusters of ripening fruit, and acres of the soil were covered with beans and sweet potatoes. He could provision the safari for the whole of the homeward journey, and yet make a scarcely sensible inroad upon the resources of the people. He had no scruples in taking as much as he needed, or rather as much as the men could carry; by all the rules of war it would be letting the village off lightly. Accordingly he lost no time in setting the men to get as much of the native produce together as would furnish full loads for the men who were not already burdened. This would inevitably diminish their marching power; but on the other hand they must carry plenty of food with them if they meant to reach home.

While the men were engaged in this task, an idea occurred to Ferrier.

"I say, John, why not go down the river on rafts?" he said. "We should get along much faster, and be less likely to meet Juma, who is sure to know a short cut, and won't stick to the river as we did."

"A jolly good notion! Wait a bit, though. What about the rapids? They nearly did for me, and loaded rafts would stand a worse chance than I did, wouldn't they?"

"That's where I come in, old chap. I've shot the rapids on the St. Lawrence; these rapids aren't a patch on the Roches Fendues. I didn't do it by myself, of course; an old fellow named Baptiste Le Sueur managed the pole; but I saw it all, and I bet I could navigate those little affairs by the fort."

"I'll be hanged if we don't try it, then. We can make a better job of it than Bill and I did. By the way, where is the old fellow? I haven't seen him since we came into the village."

"Nor have I. He won't be far off. Let us set about it at once. Two large rafts, I think: it'll take some time to cut enough timber."

"We needn't wait for that. We'll dismantle some of the huts. The natives can easily build new ones when we are gone, and I'd like to give them a little trouble after all they have given us."

"Capital! Come on then. The sooner we get them done the better."

Returning to the village, they set all the men to work who were not engaged in the fields. In a short time a large number of poles from the huts lay on the ground ready to be lashed together, and a quantity of bast being found, there was no lack of material for the lashings. Those of the men who had been porters and were expert in manipulating ropes were entrusted with this work, the two white men superintending them and making sure that the knots were firm.

The first raft, capable of supporting half the party in addition to half the stores, had just been completed when Bill ran into the village in a state of great excitement. In such a condition he seemed to lose almost all power of expression, and it was some time before John, even with Coja's assistance, could make out what was the matter with him. Presently, however, he gathered that Bill had gone alone to the spot, a few miles away, where the ivory had been buried by the Arabs when fleeing from the "bad men." It was situated on a wooded knoll washed by the river. Scarcely had he reached the place when his extraordinarily keen sense of hearing apprised him that a number of men were fording the river, though he was not able at first to see them, owing to the trees. Immediately on hearing their approach, he swarmed up a tree--the same in which he had taken shelter years before--and from this coign of vantage he spied a large body of negroes gathered on the further bank. In a little while he saw, moving up the knoll, the party who had previously crossed: they were Swahilis, and their leader was the man whom he had already recognized as a member of the Arab safari. All carried spades or other implements.

And then, helpless in the tree, the old man had had the agony to see the Swahilis dig up the ivory which had lain so long concealed: his ivory, the recovery of which had been his dream for years, a dream for whose realization he had counted on the assistance of the white men. The tusks had been laid only a foot or two below the surface, so that it was no great labour to unearth them. When they were all dug up, the men began to carry them down to the river, each tusk requiring four men. The intention was, Bill supposed, to transport them to the evacuated fort. He seized the opportunity when their backs were turned to slip down from his perch and run to the village: would not the wasungu even now strike a blow for him?

This was a staggering piece of news. The knoll was up-stream; there was not much doubt that downstream the warriors whose village had been captured were marching up in pursuit of the safari. Probably they had already been met by fugitives from the village and informed of what had happened. It struck John that Juma and the chief might have fallen out, and that the Swahili had made a rapid dash northward to possess himself of the treasure while the "bad men" were absent from the neighbourhood. However that might be, there was no question but that both the Swahilis and the villagers were dangerous enemies, and would join forces to crush the little band who had defied and routed them.

"We're in the tightest place we have ever been in yet," said John. "They've got us between them. What on earth are we to do?"

"Slip away, west or east?" suggested Ferrier.

"Hopeless! Loaded as we should be, we couldn't escape them. It's too late to get on to the river now. This one raft won't hold us all. We are done at last!"

They looked at each other in speechless anxiety. The men had ceased work on the second raft; they all knew what had occurred, and gazed at their white leaders with troubled countenances.

"There's one desperate chance," said Ferrier at length. "Juma is nearest. Deal with him before the others come up."

John stared at him for a moment with brightening eyes. Then he sprang up.

"Right!" he cried. "It's the one chance. But we can't risk it without knowing a little of the ground. I'll go out with Bill and have a look at it, if you'll stay and keep a look-out for the down-stream lot."

The two set off at once. Bill led the way rapidly round the village and further up the hill until they reached the summit. From this point the ground fell away to the plain, and rather less than a mile away John descried the knoll of which Bill had spoken, the peninsula from which it rose jutting out into the river. It was densely covered with vegetation, and on the other side of the stream there was a similar screen. Only a short reach of the river was visible, but here he saw negroes wading waist-deep. They were crossing, however, not to the far side, but from it. Juma had thought it better to bring his porters to the ivory than the reverse. Apparently none of it had yet been transported from bank to bank; but it was all laid in readiness.

Bill gazed at the scene with an expression of mingled grief and rage. Suddenly he stretched forth his hand, pointing towards the trees on the near side of the river. At first John could not see anything but the dense mass of foliage; but presently he discerned two negroes standing motionless at the foot of the knoll. Clearly Juma had posted them as scouts to give warning of any movement from the village. So many years had passed since the defeat of his safari that the likelihood of the people suspecting his search for the treasure was small, especially since they were obviously unaware of its location. But with the remembrance of their hostility in his mind he was evidently uneasy.

John's guess at the course of events was very near the mark. Ever since the defeat of the Arabs, Juma, the sole survivor of their hapless safari, had lived for nothing else than the recovery of the ivory, which would make him a millionaire according to the native standard of wealth. But the store lay in the enemy's country; he had the best of reasons for knowing how formidable they were, and what his fate would be if he was discovered by them when removing the ivory. He had recognized that there was little chance of obtaining possession of it unless he came with sufficient force to repel attack. Its transport would demand a large number of porters, and a still larger number of armed men to protect them. It had therefore been the work of his life to organize such a party. For this he had become a porter himself, to avail himself of opportunities of stealthy pilfering. For this he had established himself in the island fort, hoping to seize an occasion when the villagers were absent on a raid or a hunting expedition to make a dash up the river and achieve the aim of his ambition.

The unexpected series of events that culminated in the capture of the fort had interposed a check at the very moment when he saw success within his grasp. But his cunning mind conceived the scheme which he had carried out: to form an alliance with the very tribe with whom he had expected to come into conflict. He seized upon the presence of the white men as a rational basis for their alliance, intending, when the white men and their safari had been annihilated, to turn his arms against his allies, and having overthrown them, to secure the prize he had so long coveted.

Again he was baulked by the prolonged resistance of the white men. But it happened that the combined force of natives which he had gathered about him ran short of food. In this circumstance he saw his opportunity. On the morning after John had left the fort, Juma set off with his own contingent before the escape had been discovered, ostensibly to go hunting for game. He took with him almost all the men who had rifles, and a large party to carry the game he promised to shoot. Striking at first to the west, he turned sharply northward, and pushed on with all speed towards the knoll where the hoard of ivory lay concealed. Had he secured it, his whilom enemies, his present allies, would have seen him no more. He would have taken the shortest route to the coast, to dispose of the ivory at one of the ports. His approach was hidden from the people in the village by the hill rising behind it, and being quite unaware that the village was now held by the white men, he felt that he had nothing to fear except chance discovery by some one who might happen to stray up the hill. To provide against this he had posted the two scouts whom John saw at the base of the knoll.

John perceived in a moment that the work of transporting the ivory across the river gave him an opportunity of taking the enemy at a disadvantage. Running back to the top of the hill, careful not to come within sight of the scouts, he reached a point whence he could overlook the village and where he was himself in full view from it. The moment he arrived there he knew that he had been seen, for Ferrier waved his hand above his head. John immediately semaphored with his arms, asking Ferrier to bring out all the men except a few left to guard the village, and to join him on the hill-top. In ten minutes they were with him. Then, descending the western slope of the hill, invisible to the enemy, they worked their way through the belt of trees on the river-bank until they arrived within a furlong of the ford. Juma's porters were staggering down the knoll under their loads--great tusks from six to nine feet long. To advance further without being discovered was impossible: the two scouts were full in the path.

John gathered his party just within the belt of trees, and in a whisper told them what to do. Then, at his word, they dashed after him from cover, yelling at the top of their voices, the askaris firing their rifles as they ran, and reloading. There was little chance of the shots taking effect, but John reckoned on them to demoralize the enemy. The result surpassed his anticipations. The scouts stood for a moment as if rooted to the ground with amazement; then they flung down their rifles and fled like hares to the spot where Juma was indicating the ford. At the same instant the porters dropped their loads with a yell of fright, and made for the river, into which they cast themselves, careless of its depth, and of the crocodiles that might be lurking expectant of a victim. Juma had his arm in a sling: the other Swahilis raised their rifles, and fired, each one wild ineffectual shot, at the advancing company. Then, utterly confounded by this amazing attack from an enemy whom they supposed to be far away, they rushed in a body to the river, sped by a volley of bullets and arrows. Half wading, half swimming, they gained the further bank, and by the time John and his men came to the ford, they had disappeared with all their men into the undergrowth.

Bill ran from one tusk to another, frantic with joy. But John was too much concerned with the serious work that lay before him to trouble himself for the present with the ivory, however valuable it might be. He saw at once that he must remove all his men from the village to the knoll if the plan of floating down the river was to be successfully initiated. After their fright, Juma and his men might for a time be disregarded; but the war-party of villagers could not now be far away, and the interval before their arrival might be all too short. The knoll not only formed a good defensible position, but it was the most convenient spot for the launching of the rafts, and the timber upon it offered material for the second raft yet to be constructed. Keeping part of his men to hack branches from the trees with their knives, he asked Ferrier to return with the rest to the village and bring over the hill the first raft and all the stores.

"Get the women to help," he said. "Promise that we'll do no more harm to the village if they'll work for us. They'll be glad enough to get rid of us, no doubt. I'd go myself, Charley, only my back is bothering me again, confound it."

Ferrier hurried off. In little more than half-an-hour he reappeared on the shoulder of the hill, followed by a long line of the men of the safari and the women of the village, carrying the loads of provisions, the impedimenta of the camp, and the raft, a cumbersome object which required twenty men to carry it. As they descended the slope, shots were fired at them from the trees bordering the river, but manifestly at so long a range that they were little likely to do any harm. They reached the knoll in safety; the baggage was piled up a short distance from the bank to form a sort of rampart: and then the whole party, including a crowd of women who were impressed to fetch and carry, worked rapidly at the construction of the raft.

"There'll be mighty little protection if they fire at us on the way down," said John gloomily.

"Yes," replied Ferrier, "we haven't got enough baggage to screen us. But look here! Why not make a sort of fence to go all round?"

"The very thing! The men are so used to making bomas that it won't give them any trouble."

While the second raft was being finished, the men who were not engaged upon it were set to weave a light framework of canes, rushes, and slender branches, about three feet high, and strong enough to be impenetrable by spears or arrows. As portions of this were completed, they were lashed to the edges of the first raft. Fore and aft the framework was raised to the height of six feet, and a hole was cut in it through which a pole might be thrust, to ward off rocks or other obstructions as the raft floated downstream, and to steer the unwieldy craft.

At midday a good deal of the work still remained to be done. The sun beat down mercilessly upon the workers, and John, eager as he was to finish, ordered a rest and a meal. The negroes threw themselves on the grass, and appeared to feel no discomfort from the heat; but the white men were glad to seek the shade of the trees crowning the knoll, where Said Mohammed served their dinner.

The order had just been given to resume work when they saw a vast crowd of dusky warriors pouring over the brow of the hill.

"Here they come!" said John, starting up; "and by the look of them, and their yells, we're in for a tight little scrimmage."

Ferrier laughed.

"Not unless they're prepared to attack us over the bodies of their wives," he said. "They can't shoot at us without hitting them."

"Of course not. I hadn't thought of that. But they're so mad that they may be ready to sacrifice their nearest and dearest. We must prevent the women from running away. It's shameful coercion, but we can't help it."

The furious villagers halted within a short distance of the knoll, and one or two let fly arrows at the busy workers behind their rampart of baggage. A wild shriek arose from the terrified women, though none had been hit; and John, running among them, told them sternly that their only safety lay in remaining at their work. To give point to his warning, and at the same time to daunt the warriors, he lifted his rifle and fired towards the dense mob, taking care to aim above their heads. The result was a general stampede. The men had already learnt the power of the wasungu's weapons, and being exposed on the bare hillside they recognized their disadvantage. They retreated up the hill to a position of security, and stood there in impotent wrath, watching their womenkind toiling for the hated enemy.

The work went on without pause until the rafts were finished. The next thing was to launch them. The river swept round the knoll in a half-circle, and John decided to have the rafts carried to the water on the side remote from the village and out of sight of the warriors, any interference being guarded against by leaving his askaris with loaded rifles at the baggage. When the rafts were launched and moored to prevent their being carried down by the current, the ivory was conveyed to them. One side of each had been left undefended by the framework until the loading was finished. The tusks having been stowed on one raft, half-a-dozen men were set to lash on the framework while the stores and the rest of the baggage were carried to the second raft. It was clear that Bill had by no means exaggerated the value of the ivory. There were twenty-three tusks, varying in weight and size, but scaling in all at least half a ton. John did not know the market value of ivory, but so large a quantity would probably fetch several hundreds of pounds.

By the time the loads were stacked round the rafts, close against the framework, it was drawing towards evening.

"I'm afraid we shall have to wait until morning before we start," said John. "It will be very risky to navigate these clumsy things in the darkness. They lie very heavy in the water, and I shouldn't be surprised if they founder before we've gone far."

"We must chance that," said Ferrier. "I think we had better start at once. There are no rapids in this part of the river; our real trouble will begin when we come above the pool. If we stay here till the morning, we may be set upon before we are well away, whereas by starting now we shall be past the village by the time it is dark, and when they see us fairly off they may chuck up the sponge."

"All right. Is there anything else to be done?"

"We'll rope the rafts together, but we must be ready to cut the hawser if there's any need. I'll go in the first raft, of course. Perhaps Coja had better come with me to try his hand at steering, if you don't mind taking Said Mohammed. Your raft ought to come along in the wake of mine without any difficulty; but have your pole ready to push off if we strike a shoal."

"What's the rate of the current, do you think?"

"Three to four miles an hour, at a guess. Better let the women go now."

John withdrew the askaris who had been keeping guard, and the women, on being told that they might go, fled away up the hill like a flock of sheep. All the men of the safari then took their places on the rafts; these were roped together; the framework was lashed on the unprotected sides; the mooring ropes were released, and the strange overladen craft, sinking so low that the logs were covered with water, took the current and began to float down. Luckily the bales of provisions had been placed above the ammunition boxes and other baggage, which would not suffer from a wetting.

The actual start was hidden from the enemy by the projecting knoll; but as the rafts swept round the curve their appearance was hailed with loud shouts from the hill-top, where the women had now joined the warriors. The left bank was here too precipitous and too densely wooded to permit the enemy to approach near enough to do any damage; and as the voyagers came into the straight reach that ran by the foot of the hill on which the village was perched, they saw the yelling horde rush over the brow.

"Going to meet us on the level," shouted Ferrier from his place behind the breastwork of the foremost raft. "Keep the men crouching behind the palisade."

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FOURTH--Ferrier takes the Lead

The river varied in breadth at this part of its course from sixty to eighty yards. The steersmen, Coja in the first, Said Mohammed in the second, kept the rafts in midstream, and they glided on the full current with a steadiness that augured well for the voyage. In less than half-an-hour they were level with the village. Then a shot rang out from the right bank. Clearly Juma had been on the watch. The shot fell short, and the sound of it caused great consternation among the villagers, who had taken up a position a few hundred yards down-stream on a stretch of treeless land on the left bank, raised a few feet above the level of the river. They had evidently been as yet unaware of the proximity of their allies. But their apprehension was immediately changed to wild excitement as they saw Juma, accompanied by his band, appear on a similar eminence on the opposite bank. They shouted with delight, leaping, brandishing spears, little suspecting the trick which the Swahilis had played on them.

As the rafts approached, they were assailed with showers of arrows from both sides, mingled with rifle shots from the right bank. Ferrier and John ordered their men to lie flat on their faces, for those on the starboard side were exposed to the fire from the right bank, those on the port side to that from the left. The two white men themselves, and their two steersmen, could not find shelter in the same way, being bound to stand erect in order to keep the rafts in midstream. As the missiles flew around him, John felt that this was a vastly unpleasant way of running the gauntlet. He instinctively pressed his body close to the framework; and whether it was due to the growing darkness, or to the inability of the enemy to hit a moving target, he escaped unhurt. The immediate danger was past when the banks of the river fell away to the level of the stream. Both parties of the enemy still fired, running along in time with the rafts; but their missiles now flew over the top of the breastwork. Ferrier thought it worth risking a volley from his own men. He ordered them to kneel, rest their rifles on the palisade, and take good aim at the Swahilis. Their skill or luck was superior, for when the volley flashed forth, a yell told that one at least of the bullets had got home. Immediately afterwards John ordered his askaris to fire among the negroes on the left bank; but these were somewhat remoter from the river, and he could not learn that any of the shots took effect.

Night had now sunk upon the land. The moon would rise late, and for several hours the voyage must be continued in darkness. John called to Ferrier to ask whether he had not better run into the bank and wait until there was a little light upon the course.

"I can see well enough at present," was the reply. "Besides, those beggars are keeping it up."

His expectation that the pursuit would be abandoned as soon as it became dark was not borne out. It was obvious from the shouts that were heard on either side from time to time that the enemy had screwed their resolution to an uncommon pitch. Their dread of the darkness was no less, but their savage resentment and vindictive desire for revenge was more. John was able to account for their pertinacity when he remembered what lay before him. The rapids! If he, on his light raft, had barely escaped with his life, how much less was the chance that two heavy-laden rafts would survive the battering they must receive! If they were not wrecked and broken up before they reached the pool, they would then become exposed to a terrific attack. He dared not think of what the fate of the safari would be if they were cast into the river and thrown upon the mercy of the enemy. Did they come safe through the first series of rapids and cross the pool, there was the second series beyond, sweeping through the gorge, from the heights of which the enemy could pour down upon them not merely a hail of bullets and arrows, but an avalanche of rocks which could not fail to send the rafts to the bottom. Great as were the perils which had beset him since he quitted the farm, he recognized with a momentary sinking of heart that they were trifles compared with those that were to come. He felt that his confidence would be greater if he could be beside Ferrier on the first raft. Their comradeship during the past few months had brought them very close together. He wished that they could talk things over quietly; whereas now they were separated by forty feet of rope, and anything either had to say must be uttered in a bawl.

As the darkness thickened the navigation became increasingly difficult. Sometimes, when long stretches of the river were banked by woods, it was pitch dark, and whatever obstacles might have occurred in the course, it would have been impossible to avoid them. Ferrier did his best to keep his raft in midstream, for he knew that crocodiles lurked on the banks; hippos might be sleeping in the shallows; and heavy as the raft was, he had little doubt that a heave of a hippo's huge body, a swish from a crocodile's terrible tail, would cause it to capsize, or at least break a gap in the breastwork.