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{\LARGE\strut{TOM WILLOUGHBY'S SCOUTS}}
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\noindent
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the \hyperlink{project-gutenberg-license}{Project Gutenberg License} included with
this ebook or online at {https://www.gutenberg.org/license}. If you
are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws
of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
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\noindent
Title: Tom Willoughby's Scouts
 \\
       A Story of the War in German East Africa
 \\

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Author: Herbert Strang
 \\

 \\
Release Date: June 03, 2012 {[}eBook \#39912{]}
 \\

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Language: English
 \\

 \\
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*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM WILLOUGHBY'S SCOUTS ***
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Produced by Al Haines.
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{\LARGE\strut{TOM WILLOUGHBY'S SCOUTS}}
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{\itshape{{\normalsize{ A STORY OF THE WAR IN GERMAN EAST AFRICA}}}}
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{\normalsize{ BY}}
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{\Large\strut{HERBERT STRANG}}
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{\itshape{{\normalsize{ ILLUSTRATED BY WAL PAGET}}}}
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{\noindent}
{\centering
{\normalsize{ HUMPHREY MILFORD
 \\
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
 \\
LONDON, EDINBURGH, GLASGOW
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TORONTO, MELBOURNE, CAPE TOWN, BOMBAY
 \\
1919}}
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{\footnotesize{PRINTED 1918 IN GREAT BRITAIN BY R. CLAY \& SONS, LTD.,
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BRUNSWICK STREET, STAMFORD STREET, S.E. 1, AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.}}
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――――
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{\noindent}
CONTENTS}

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\hyperlink{chapter-i-tanganyika}{CHAPTER I--TANGANYIKA}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-ii-partners}{CHAPTER II--PARTNERS}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-iii-the-voucher}{CHAPTER III--THE VOUCHER}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-iv-trapped}{CHAPTER IV--TRAPPED}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-v-a-friend-in-need}{CHAPTER V--A FRIEND IN NEED}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-vi-mwesa-s-mission}{CHAPTER VI--MWESA'S MISSION}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-vii-tom-seizes-the-occasion}{CHAPTER VII--TOM SEIZES THE OCCASION}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-viii-reinecke-returns}{CHAPTER VIII--REINECKE RETURNS}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-ix-a-delaying-action}{CHAPTER IX--A DELAYING ACTION}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-x-a-breathing-space}{CHAPTER X--A BREATHING SPACE}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-xi-tom-s-new-allies}{CHAPTER XI--TOM'S NEW ALLIES}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-xii-the-deserter}{CHAPTER XII--THE DESERTER}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-xiii-hunted}{CHAPTER XIII--HUNTED}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-xiv-the-trail}{CHAPTER XIV--THE TRAIL}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-xv-the-back-door}{CHAPTER XV--THE BACK DOOR}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-xvi-drawn-blank}{CHAPTER XVI--DRAWN BLANK}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-xvii-a-german-offer}{CHAPTER XVII--A GERMAN OFFER}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-xviii-a-good-haul}{CHAPTER XVIII--A GOOD HAUL}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-xix-beleaguered}{CHAPTER XIX--BELEAGUERED}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-xx-raising-the-siege}{CHAPTER XX--RAISING THE SIEGE}\par

\item[] \hyperlink{chapter-xxi-willoughby-s-scouts}{CHAPTER XXI--WILLOUGHBY'S SCOUTS}\par
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――――
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{\centering
{\Large\strut{LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS}}
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{\raggedright
\hyperlink{reinecke-flung-up-his-arm}{{\normalsize{ Reinecke flung up his Arm}}}{\normalsize{  (See p. 193) . . . . . . }}{\itshape{{\normalsize{ Frontispiece}}}}{\normalsize{ 
 \\
}}\hyperlink{tom-took-careful-aim-and-fired}{{\normalsize{ Tom took careful Aim and fired}}}{\normalsize{ 
 \\
}}\hyperlink{tom-makes-a-diversion}{{\normalsize{ Tom makes a Diversion}}}{\normalsize{ 
 \\
}}\hyperlink{mwesa-flung-himself-on-the-arab}{{\normalsize{ Mwesa flung Himself on the Arab}}}
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{\noindent}
CHAPTER I--TANGANYIKA}

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{\noindent}
Among the passengers who boarded the
{\itshape{Hedwig von Wissmann}} at Kigoma on
Lake Tanganyika, one June day in 1914, there
were two who engaged more particularly the
attention of those already on deck.  The first
was a tall stalwart man of some fifty years, with
hard blue eyes, full red cheeks, a square chin,
and a heavy blond moustache streaked with grey.
He stepped somewhat jerkily up the gangway,
brought his hand stiffly to his brow in response
to the salute of the first officer, and was led by
that deferential functionary to a chair beneath
the deck awning.\par

The second presented a striking contrast.
Equally tall, he was slim and loosely built, with
lean, sunburnt, hairless cheeks, a clean upper lip
that curved slightly in a natural smile, and brown
eyes that flashed a look of intelligent interest
around.  He walked with the lithe easy movements
of athletic youth, turned to see that the
porter was following with his luggage, a
single travelling trunk and a rifle case, and
satisfied on that score, picked up a deck-chair and
planted it for himself where the awning would
give shade without shutting off the air.\par

Both these new arrivals wore suits of white
drill, and pith helmets; but whereas the elder
man was tightly buttoned, suggesting a certain
strain, the younger allowed his coat to hang open,
showing his soft shirt and the cummerbund about
his waist.\par

The gangway was pulled in, a seaman cast off
the mooring rope, and the vessel sheered off from
the landing-stage with those seemingly aimless
movements with which a steamer, until she is
well under way, responds to the signals from
the bridge.  In a few minutes the {\itshape{Hedwig
von Wissmann}} was heading southward down
the lake, on her three-hundred-mile voyage to
Bismarckburg.\par

The younger of the two passengers lit a
cigarette and unobtrusively took stock of his
fellow-travellers.  The tall man before mentioned
was already puffing at a long black cigar, and
a steward, with marked servility, had placed
a glass of some lemon-coloured liquid on a table
at his elbow.  Beyond him four men of middle
age, also provided with cigars and glasses, were
playing cards, not in dignified silence, like Sarah
Battle of immortal memory, but with a sort of
voracity, and a voluble exchange of gutturals.
Sitting apart, smoking a dark briar pipe, sat a
grizzled and somewhat shabby passenger who,
though the brim of his panama was turned down
over his eyes, had nevertheless watched and
drawn conclusions about the two strangers.\par

"H'm!  Public school--nineteen, perhaps--griffin--nice
lad--clean," his disjointed thoughts
ran.  "T'other fellow--Potsdam--goose
step--beer barrel--don't like the breed."\par

For a while he sat smoking, giving a little
grunt now and then, and now and then a glance
at the young Englishman.  Presently he heaved
himself out of his chair, tilted back his hat, and
waddling a few steps, planted himself with legs
apart in front of the youth.\par

"Harrow or Rugby, sir?" he said without
preamble.\par

"Neither, sir," replied the other with a smile.
"I was at quite an obscure grammar school--not
a public school in the--well, in the swagger sense."\par

The old man's grey eyes twinkled.\par

"H'm!" he ejaculated.  "Don't get up."  He
took a chair that stood folded against one
of the stanchions and drew it alongside.\par

"Name, sir?"\par

The youth looked into the face of his
questioner, saw nothing but benevolence there,
and thinking "Queer old stick!" answered--\par

"Willoughby--Tom Willoughby."\par

"H'm!  Not Bob Willoughby's son, by any chance?"\par

"My father's name was Robert, sir."\par

"Takes after his mother, I suppose," the old
man murmured to himself, but audibly.  "Hasn't
got Bob's nose.  I knew him," he went on aloud.
"Saw in {\itshape{The Times}} he was gone: sorry, my lad.
Haven't seen him since '98, when I was in
Uganda.  Haven't been out since; wanted to
run round once more before I'm laid on the
shelf.  Going to Rhodesia, I presume?"\par

"No: only as far as Bismarckburg: my father
was interested in some land on the edge of the
Plateau."\par

"German land, begad!"\par

"Well, you see he was partner with a German:
went equal shares with him in a coffee plantation
seven or eight years ago."\par

"H'm!  Why didn't he stick to mines?"
said the old gentleman in one of his audible
asides.  "And you step into his shoes, I suppose?"\par

"Not exactly, sir.  He left his property to
my brother and me jointly.  We decided that
Bob--he's twenty-four--had better stick to the
commission business in London, and I should
come out and learn planting, or at any rate see
if it's worth while going on; the plantation has
never paid, and it's lucky for us we don't
depend on it."\par

"Never paid in eight years?  It's time it did.
What's your German partner about?  I'm an old
hand; my name's Barkworth, and I was a friend
of your father.  My advice is, if your coffee
hasn't paid in eight years, cut your losses and
try cotton."\par

"It may come to that; that's what I'm out
to discover; but my brother thought it at least
worth while looking into things on the spot with
Mr. Reinecke----"\par

"Curt Reinecke?" said Mr. Barkworth abruptly.\par

"Yes."\par

"I know him--or did, twenty years ago.  {\itshape{He's}}
your partner.  H'm!"  He blew out a heavy
cloud of smoke.  Tom looked at him a little
anxiously.\par

"Mr. Reinecke has had a lot of bad luck, sir," he
said.  "He was always hoping the tide would turn,
Bob suggested that he might be incompetent, but
my father had complete confidence in him."\par

"Reinecke incompetent!  Bosh!  He's clever enough."\par

There was something in Mr. Barkworth's tone
that caused Tom to say--\par

"I've never met him myself, and I should really
be glad of any information, sir.  You see, it's
rather awkward, dealing with a man old enough
to be my father, I mean, and----"\par

"Yes, of course.  Reinecke is a clever fellow;
I've nothing against him, but I recommend you
to go carefully.  I don't like him, but then I
don't like Germans."\par

"I can't say I do," said Tom.  "I spent a year
in Germany.  But I've met a few jolly decent
chaps, and seeing that my father thought so highly
of Mr. Reinecke----"\par

"You're predisposed in his favour.  Naturally.
Well, keep an open mind.  Don't be in a hurry
to decide.  That's an old man's advice.  I'm
nearly seventy, my lad, and the older I get the
more I learn.  With people, now--there's the
man who falls on the neck of the first comer, and
wishes he hadn't.  There's the man who stiffens
his back and freezes, and then finds that he's lost
his chance of making a friend.  Don't be like
either: 'prove all things'--and men--'and hold
fast to that which is good.'  H'm!  I'm beginning
to preach: sure sign of dotage.--You haven't seen
a view like that before."\par

It was indeed a new and an enchanting experience
to Tom Willoughby, this voyage on the vast
lake, or inland sea, that stretches for four
hundred miles in the heart of equatorial Africa.
Looking eastward to the nearer shore, he beheld
a high bank richly clad with forest jungle, fringed
and festooned with lovely creepers and climbing
plants.  Below, the blue waters, tossed by a
south-east breeze, broke high upon a wilderness of
rugged rocks; above, masses of cloud raced
across the green heights, revealing now and then
patches of bare brown rock, now and then the
misty tops of distant mountains.  The coastline
was variegated with headlands, creeks, and bays;
southward could be discerned the bold mountainous
promontory of Kungwe.  Here and there
Arab dhows with their triangular sails and the
low log canoes of native fishermen hugged the
shore; and birds with brilliant plumage glittered
and flashed as they darted in and out among the
foliage or swooped down upon the surface in
search of food.\par

Tom feasted his eyes on these novel scenes
until a bugle summoned the passengers to
luncheon.  He would have found it a slow meal
but for his new friend.  They were placed side by
side at some distance from the captain, the
intervening seats being occupied by the Germans.
The planters talked shop among themselves, and
Tom was amused at the obsequious gratitude they
showed to Major von Rudenheim, the newly
arrived German officer, when he dispensed them
a word now and then, as a man throws a bone to
a dog.  The major had the place of honour next
the captain, whose bearing towards him was
scarcely less deferential.  Through the meal the
two Englishmen were almost ignored by the rest.
Afterwards, however, when the planters had
returned to their cards and Major von Rudenheim
and Mr. Barkworth had both disappeared,
Captain Goltermann came up to Tom where he sat
alone on deck.\par

"Fine country, Mr. Villoughby," he said
pleasantly.  "I hope you like zis trip."\par

"Thanks, captain, it's quite charming; but I'm
not what we call a tripper."\par

"So!  It is business, not pleasure, zat bring
you?  But zere shall be pleasure {\itshape{and}} business, I
zink.  If I can assist you----"\par

"Thanks again.  I expect Mr. Reinecke to
meet me at Bismarckburg."\par

"Mr. Reinecke!  He is great friend of mine.
You are lucky to go to him--as pupil, perhaps?"\par

It seemed to Tom that the amiable captain
was trying to pump him, and he smiled inwardly.\par

"I daresay I could learn a good deal from
Mr. Reinecke," he said, guardedly, but with great
amiability.\par

"Zat is certain.  He is a most excellent man
of business, and as a planter zere is no one like
him.  Zat I ought to know, because I carry his
goods.  Yes, truly, many fine cargoes haf I
carried from Bismarckburg to Ujiji.  Zere vill vun
vait me, vizout doubt.  Yes, my friend Reinecke
is ze model of efficiency--of German efficiency.
Ze English are great colonists--so! no vun deny
it; and zey are proud zey know how to manage
ze nigger--yes?  But I tell you--you are young
man--I tell you your countrymen cannot make
ze nigger vork---ve Germans can."\par

Tom was to learn later the methods by which
the Germans achieved that desirable end: at
present he was slightly amused at the Teutonic
self-satisfaction of the speaker.  It was so like
what he had encountered during his year in
Stuttgart.\par

"Ze German kultur," the captain proceeded--"it
is carried verever ze German go.  Yes; viz
our mezod, our zystem, ve create for our Kaiser
a great empire in Africa.  In ten, tventy year ze
Masai, ze Wanyamwezi, ze Wakamba, ze Wahehe,
and all ze ozers--zey shall become Germans--black
Germans, but ze colour, vat is it?  It is of
ze skin; I speak of ze soul, sir."\par

At this moment there was a great hubbub on
the lower deck forward, where a motley
assortment of natives and Indian traders was located.
The captain hurried away; the planters left their
cards and flocked to see what was happening.
Tom followed them.  Looking over the rail, he
saw a young negro being dragged along by two
petty officers, who cuffed and kicked him between
their shouts of abuse.  They hauled him on
until they stood below the captain, and then
explained in German that they had found him
hidden among some bales of cargo: he had not
paid his passage and had no money.\par

"Throw him overboard," cried the captain.
The planters laughed.\par

"Only a stowaway," said one, and their curiosity
being satisfied, they went back to the awning.\par

Whether the captain had meant what he said
or not, he had turned away, and the officers
were apparently about to carry out the order.
Tom, understanding German and knowing something
of Germans, was nevertheless amazed.
Acting on the impulse of the moment he hurried
after the captain.\par

"I say, captain, I'll pay for the boy," he cried.
"Let him go."\par

Captain Goltermann smiled.\par

"Ze nigger?  You are good Samaritan, sir.
Vell, it is your affair, not mine.  Pay if you
please; you fling money avay."\par

He called to the officers, who gave the boy a
parting kick and shot him into the midst of the
crowd of shouting negroes before them.  Tom
paid the passage money, and went back to his
chair.  Had he made a fool of himself?  It was
really absurd to have supposed that the Germans
would have drowned the boy.  "I wonder what
Mr. Barkworth would say?" he thought.  And
then he sprang up and hastened to find the purser:
he had suddenly remembered that if the boy had
no money for his fare, neither could he pay for
his food.  "No good doing things by halves," he
thought.  He told the purser to charge the boy's
keep to him, adding: "and don't make a song
about it."\par


\vs{4}
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{\noindent\interlinepenalty \@M\normalfont\Huge\bfseries%
{\noindent}
CHAPTER II--PARTNERS}

\unskip\vskip 40pt\nobreak

{\noindent}
Tom Willoughby's first impression
of Curt Reinecke had an element of
surprise.  Conspicuous on the landing-stage at
Bismarckburg was a thin wiry man of middle
height, clad in the loose white garments affected
by planters, with a large white linen hat, its brim
turned down helmet-wise.  The coppery hue of
his face was accentuated by a huge white
moustache, which projected at least two inches beyond
the outlines of his shaven cheeks.  He might
have passed for a South American president.\par

"That's Reinecke," said Mr. Barkworth, as
he stepped on to the gangway in advance of
Tom.  "Hasn't altered a jot.  His moustache
was white twenty years ago; and he was as bald
as a bladder.  Good-bye, my lad: we may meet
again: we may not: God bless you!"\par

Mr. Barkworth had already explained that, as
the {\itshape{Hedwig von Wissmann}} would remain two or
three days at Bismarckburg to unload, he was
going to complete his journey to Kitata in
Rhodesia by sailing boat.  They shook hands
cordially and parted.\par

It was impossible for Reinecke to mistake the
lad he had come to meet.  Among the passengers
who landed there was none so young as Tom,
no other who bore the stamp of Englishman.
Reinecke came up to him with a smile, lifted his
hat, revealing for an instant his smooth pink
crown, and said--\par

"Mr. Villoughby, vizout doubt.  A tousand
hearty velcomes."\par

"How d'you do, Mr. Reinecke?" responded
Tom.  "Glad to meet you."\par

"Ve shall go to ze hotel for to-day; I shall
see to your baggage.  To-morrow ve go to ze
plantation.  Zat zhentleman you part viz--I zink
I know his look, but his name--no, I do not
remember: it is--no, it vill not come."\par

"Barkworth."\par

"Ach!  So!  Barkvorce.  Yes, of course, of
course; I remember: it is long ago----"\par

He stopped abruptly, and gazed after the broad
shambling figure with a look that Tom could not
fathom.  Then he turned to Tom again, begged
him to excuse his absence for a moment, and
went up the gangway on to the steamer.  Returning
after a minute or two, he explained that he
had arranged for Tom's baggage to be sent to
the hotel, and had invited Captain Goltermann
to visit the plantation while the vessel remained
in harbour.\par

"I can gif you good shootings," he said, smiling
again.  "You English are all good sports, eh?
And my friend ze captain also is expert viz ze gun."\par

Tom felt that he had nothing to complain of
in the warmth of his reception, and glowed with
anticipation of diversifying his business inquiries
with sport of a kind new to him.\par

He learnt that the plantation lay at a distance
of about twenty miles from the lake-side, on the
Tanganyika Plateau, and could only be reached by
a rough path over the hills, impassable for wheeled
traffic.  But he would not be expected to walk.
The journey would be done by {\itshape{machila}}, which
turned out to be a light canvas litter slung
on a pole and borne by two strapping natives.
Reinecke had brought three pairs of porters, in
addition to a dozen who would convey certain
bales of stores which had come by the steamer.
It was thus a large party that left early next
morning, the three white men in their litters
going ahead, the porters following at some
distance under the charge of an Arab overseer armed
with a long whip.\par

Within half an hour of leaving the port the
path entered hilly country, much overgrown with
forest vegetation.  The air was still, hot and
humid, and Tom, though this novel means of
locomotion, over rough ground, had its discomforts,
reflected that he would have been still more
uncomfortable had he walked.  Innumerable
insects buzzed around, seeking to pierce the
protective curtains that enclosed him.  Through the
meshes of the muslin he saw gigantic ferns,
revelling in the moist shade of huge trees,
festooned with lianas and rattan.  He heard monkeys
chattering overhead, the soft notes of doves and
the shriller cries of partridges and guinea-fowl;
and but for the teeming insects he would have
liked to spring from his litter and go afoot, where
every yard brought some new beauty, some novel
form of life, to view.  After three hours the
caravan halted, for the purpose of refreshing the
Europeans with cool lager beer from bottles
carried in ice-packs by one of the natives.  It
was drawing towards evening when they arrived
at a clearing beyond which there was a dense and
impenetrable thorn hedge about eight feet high.
The path led to a wooden gate set in the midst
of the hedge.  This Reinecke opened with a key,
and he stood back with a smile and a bow as he
invited Tom, now on his feet, to enter.\par

"Zis is our estate," he said.  "Vunce more I
bid you tousand velcomes, and I vish your visit
bring us good luck."\par

"Thanks very much," said Tom, noticing at
the same time that Reinecke's eyes were fixed on
the peculiarly stolid face of Captain Goltermann.\par

"Yes, viz better luck you shall be rich man in
a few years, Mr. Villoughby," said the captain.
"Zere is no man zat knows like my friend
Reinecke ze--ze----"\par

"Ze ups and downs of coffee," suggested
Reinecke.  "A good season--yes, zere shall be
zree or four tousand kilos ze acre; but a bad
season--ah! disease come--who can stop it?
Vat physician haf ve for ze cure?  Zen--ah! it
break ze heart."\par

Tom looked about him with interest.  As far
as he could see, extended row on row of coffee
plants in straight lines about six feet apart.
Between them, at the same interval, were dug
shallow pits some eighteen inches deep.  He had
arrived just at the time when the fruit was ripe,
and a number of negroes were busily picking it
from the bushes.  Here and there among them
stood tall Arab overseers, all armed with whips.\par

Presently the party came to a couple of
machines resembling cider presses, which Reinecke
explained were pulpers for separating the beans
from the reddish pulp that covered them.  Then
they passed two large brick vats, in one of which
the beans were fermented, in the other washed
and dried.  Beyond these were sheds where the
coffee, now ready for market, was stored and
packed.  And then, in a separate clearing, laid out
like a European garden, they came to Reinecke's
bungalow, a brightly painted structure of wood,
with a long verandah and a thatched roof.  A
table was laid on the verandah, and a few minutes
after his arrival Tom was seated with his host
and his fellow-guest at a meal, prepared and
served by native servants, which reminded him,
with a difference, of the meals he had known the
year before, when his father had sent him to
Germany.\par

Finding that Tom understood German, Reinecke
conversed in that language, dropping into English
now and then to explain technical terms.  He
related to his interested guests the story of the
plantation: how the land was first cleared by
cutting down the timber and uprooting the bush:
how this was burnt and the ashes mixed with the
soil: the months of hoeing: the sowings in the
seed beds: the planting out of the seedlings in
November, when the rains began: and the tedious
three years' waiting before the young plants started
to bear.  Those three years he had utilised by
planting a thorn fence about the whole clearing of
some hundreds of acres.  Tom supposed that this
fence had been erected to keep out wild beasts, for
depredations by human marauders were not to be
feared in a district where German authority was
established.  Reinecke assented; but Tom was to
discover before many days were past that the fence
had another, even a sinister purpose.\par

The next two days were spent very agreeably
in shooting expeditions into the wild country
beyond the plantation.  Captain Goltermann turned
out to be a crack shot, and the greater number of
the antelopes and buffaloes which the sportsmen
brought down fell to his gun.  Tom was all
anxiety to get a shot at a lion or even an elephant,
which Reinecke told him were to be found in
parts of the Plateau; but the Germans were
indisposed to take the long journeys that were
necessary to reach the habitats of these more
dangerous game: Goltermann's visit was to be
only a short one.\par

One trifling incident of these days was to have
an important bearing on Tom's fortunes.  Captain
Goltermann had shot an antelope, but, with less
than his usual skill or luck, had only wounded it.
Determined not to lose his prey, he followed,
accompanied by the others, over a stretch of
hilly country, dotted with bush, tracking the
animal by its blood-stains into a deep nullah
through which a stream flowed.  The sportsmen
caught sight of it at last, drinking at the border
of a lake, the source of the stream.  Goltermann
had just raised his gun to give the {\itshape{coup de grâce}}
when the antelope suddenly sank into the water
and appeared no more.\par

"We have provided a meal for a crocodile,"
said the captain with a shrug.  "The slimy
sneaking reptile!"\par

"It was bad luck for you, Goltermann," said
Reinecke.  "The beast was hopelessly trapped;
there's no exit from this end of the nullah.  Our
long tramp for nothing!"\par

Naturally, it was not until the captain had left
that Tom broached the business that had brought
him from England.\par

"Now that we have come into my father's
property," he said on the third morning at breakfast,
"my brother and I thought it just as well that I
should take a trip out and see things on the spot.
He explained that in his letter."\par

"Naturally," said Reinecke.  "It is what I
should have done myself."\par

"Of course," Tom went on, "I've only had
a year's business training--in Germany, by the
way: and I know nothing whatever about coffee:
but I know two and two make four, and I'm sure
if you'll be good enough to go into things with
me, I'll soon get the hang of them.  If the
plantation can't be made to pay, there's only one
way out--sacrifice our interest.  On the other
hand, if there's a chance of success, I thought
perhaps I might stay on here and become a
planter myself: it's a life I think I should
take to."\par

"Excellent," said Reinecke.  "I am very glad
you have come.  And if you can suggest some
means of making the place pay--well, need I say
I shall be delighted.  What with poor crops and
low prices, and the heavy costs of carriage, it is
difficult to wring from it even the small, and I
confess unsatisfactory margin which I have been
able to show since the plants came into bearing."\par

It crossed Tom's mind that this pessimistic
attitude was hard to square with Captain Goltermann's
enthusiastic praise of Reinecke, and his
remarks on the valuable cargoes that he had
carried; but he remembered Mr. Barkworth's
advice to "go carefully," to "keep an open
mind," and at present he had no material on
which to form a judgment.  Nor could he yet
decide how to estimate Reinecke.  The German
had been cordiality itself.  He had left nothing
undone for his guest's comfort; his manner had
every appearance of frankness; yet Tom was
conscious in himself of an instinctive reserve, a
something undefined that held him back from
complete confidence.\par

"You will see the books, of course," said
Reinecke, rising to unlock his desk.  "They are
kept in German, but after your year's training
in Germany that will be no difficulty to you.
Here they are: the stock book, the cost book,
the ledger: on this file you will find the vouchers
for the quantities of beans we have shipped from
Bismarckburg.  My clerk is very methodical: he
is a nigger, but trained in Germany, and in spirit
a true German: you will find all in order.  I will
leave you to examine them at your leisure, and
anything you want explained--why, of course
I shall be delighted."\par

Tom spent the rest of the morning in digesting
the figures that Reinecke had placed before him.
It was a task that went against the grain; he
hated anything that savoured of the part of
inquisitor; but he reflected that it was purely
a matter of business, and being thorough in
whatever he undertook he bent his mind to the
distasteful job, resolved to get it over as quickly
as possible.\par

As Reinecke had said, everything was in order.
There were records of the total quantity of beans
produced; he compared the vouchers for the
consignments with the entries in the stock book,
and found that they tallied.  The other books
gave him the costs of production, which included
wages, provisions, upkeep of buildings and so
on; duplicates of the invoices dispatched with
the goods to a firm in Hamburg; records of
bills of exchange received in payment, and the
hundred and one details incident to an export
business.  Balance sheets had, of course, been sent
to his father: here was the material on which
those sheets were based, and everything
confirmed the position as he already knew it: that
the plantation did little more than pay the not
inconsiderable salary which Reinecke drew as
manager.  His and the Willoughbys' shares of
the profits were minute.\par

Tom could only conclude that Captain Goltermann,
knowing nothing of the details of management,
had drawn erroneous conclusions from
the facts within his knowledge.  His vessel
conveyed a certain number of bags up the lake at
certain seasons: that was all.  It was easy for a
seaman to make mistakes in such a matter.  If
so, then, what was wrong?  Were the costs too
high in proportion to the out-turn?  Was the
acreage under cultivation too small?  Was there
something faulty in the methods employed?  Tom
felt that these questions carried him beyond his
depth.  Would it not have been better to send
an expert to make the necessary investigations?
That might still have to be done: meanwhile
here he was; he must learn what he could,
spend a few months in getting a grip of things,
keep Bob at home informed, and then go back
and consult with him.\par

When Reinecke returned to lunch, Tom
complimented him on the perfect order in which his
books were kept, and frankly told him the
conclusion to which he had come.\par

"That means that I must trespass on your
hospitality for some months, at any rate," he
added.  "I shall see the results from this season's
crops, your preparations for next, and fresh
sowings, I suppose.  Of course I can't expect to
learn in a few months what has taken you years."\par

"That is so," said the German, and Tom
fancied that there was a shade less cordiality in
his manner, which was perhaps not to be
wondered at in view of the prospect of having a
stranger quartered on him for an indefinite period.
"Still," Reinecke went on, "it is with knowledge
as with wealth.  The heir inherits thousands
which his father has laboriously amassed; the
pupil enjoys the fruits of his master's long and
concentrated study.  I think you will be an
apt pupil."\par

He said this with so pleasant a smile that
Tom dismissed his feeling of a moment before
as unwarranted, and reflected that Reinecke was
really taking things with a very good grace.\par

Next day he accompanied Reinecke to the
outlying quarter of the estate where the workers
were lodged in huts and sheds constructed by
themselves.  They were shut off from the outer
world by the ring fence, which consisted of
quick-growing thorn bushes so closely matted as
to form a practically impenetrable barrier many
feet thick.  There were more than a hundred
adult negroes, men and women, employed on
the plantation.  A number of children playing in
front of the huts stopped and clustered together
in silent groups when the two white men
appeared.\par

"I suppose the workers get a holiday sometimes?"
said Tom, whose schooldays were only
eighteen months behind him.\par

"Of course," said Reinecke.  "There are
slack times, in the early part of the season
between the hoeings, when there is little to be done."\par

"But I mean, they go away sometimes?"\par

"Why should they?  Where should they go?
There is only the forest, and the port.  They
would be eaten in the forest; they would eat
up the port."  Reinecke laughed at his joke.\par

"Then they are practically prisoners?"\par

"My dear Mr. Willoughby, this is Africa.
In Europe you put fences round your cattle:
the negroes are just cattle.  Break your fences,
and your animals stray and are lost.  So with
the niggers."\par

"But that is slavery."\par

"Words! words!" said Reinecke lightly.
"They are no more slaves than the apprentices
who are bound to their masters for a term of
years.  They are indentured labourers.  They are
paid; and there's not a man among them but
accumulates enough to make him rich when his
time is up."\par

"They can go to their homes, then, when their
time is up?"\par

Reinecke shrugged.\par

"As they please," he said.  "They have a long
way to go.  See, Mr. Willoughby, I give you a page
from German colonial history.  Twenty years ago,
in our early days, our brave pioneers of empire
had enormous difficulties to contend with.  There
was one savage tribe, the Wahehe some two
hundred miles north of us here, that resisted our
civilising mission with especial pertinacity and
violence.  On August 17, '91, they gained a
victory over our much-tried soldiers.  They
dispersed as we approached, but when the column
of Captain von Zelewski was passing through a
rugged and densely-grown country it was attacked
along its whole length by thousands of the
treacherous dogs.  Zelewski was among the first
to fall; taken at a disadvantage his column was
almost annihilated.  Ten Germans, sir--ten
Germans, I say, as well as over three hundred
askaris and porters, were slain.  The gallant
Lieutenant von Tettenborn fought his way back
with a few survivors to Kondoa, and thence
reached the coast."\par

"We've had many incidents of that sort in
India and elsewhere," said Tom.  "I suppose
there was a punitive expedition?"\par

"There was, sir; but not until three years had
passed.  For three years those treacherous swine
were allowed to flout the German might.  Then,
in October '94, we captured and destroyed Iringa,
their principal village, and were again attacked in
the woods on our way to the coast.  Some of the
petty chiefs held out against us for years, but the
German destructive sword is very sure.  Finally
they were terribly subdued, and some hundreds
of them were transported into this Tanganyika
country and compelled to earn their living by
peaceful toil.  My people here are Wahehe.  I
have one of the very chiefs who opposed us--one
Mirambo, a great hunter in his youth.  I need
not say that I find his woodcraft very useful when
I go hunting.  By the way, he carried Captain
Goltermann's gun the other day.  And now you
see, Mr. Willoughby, how well off these people
are.  They might have been treated as rebels;
they might have suffered as prisoners of war.
Instead, they are indentured labourers, engaged,
for pay, in producing a useful commodity--with
no profit to their employers, mark you.  My
dear sir, it is philanthropy."\par

Tom did not venture to say what he thought.
In these early days it was useless to enter into a
dispute with Reinecke.  But to his British way
of thinking the condition of the labourers was
simply slavery, however the German might seek
to disguise it, and he would make it his business
to find out for himself the natives' point of view.
If they were contented with their lot, it would
be folly to disturb them.  But if not--and he
remembered the whips he had seen in the
overseers' hands--a new system must be introduced,
with or without Reinecke's consent.\par


\vs{4}
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{\noindent}
CHAPTER III--THE VOUCHER}

\unskip\vskip 40pt\nobreak

{\noindent}
During the next two or three days Tom
went about the plantation, watching the
negroes at their work of picking and pulping the
fruit.  Reinecke left him in perfect freedom to
go where he pleased, and see anything and
everything.  The natives worked industriously: there
was no lack of talk and laughter among them, no
indication of discontent or ill-treatment.  Tom's
misgiving was dissipated; he concluded that the
overseers' whips were wands of office rather than
instruments of correction.  The negroes gazed at
him with a certain curiosity and interest.  Some
smiled, in unconscious response to the charm of
his expression, of which he was equally
unconscious.  One of them, he noticed, a lad apparently
about seventeen, looked at him with a peculiar
intentness.  Once, when, in lighting his pipe, he
dropped his box of matches, the young negro
sprang forward, picked it up, and handed it to
him with a sort of proud pleasure that so trifling
a service hardly accounted for.\par

"Thanks," said Tom, and the lad's face beamed
as, admonished by a severe look from the overseer
with whom Tom had been talking, he went back
to the bush which he had left.\par

"I hope you will pardon my leaving you so
much to yourself," said Reinecke one day.  "There
is little to be learnt at this season, except what
you can see with your own eyes.  In seedtime, if
you still favour me with your company, I shall
have more opportunities of giving you definite
instruction.  And now what do you say to a little
relaxation?  Shall we go shooting to-morrow?"\par

"I shall be delighted."\par

"Very well.  I will give orders that Mirambo
and another man shall accompany us to-morrow.
We shall find wild geese and snipe at the stream
a few miles south; possibly a hippo, if, like most
youngsters, you've a fancy for big game."\par

When they started next morning, Tom looked
at the German's gunbearer with a good deal more
attention than he had shown previously.  It was
strange that this humble negro had once been a
chief.  Mirambo was a well-built man past middle
life, quick in his movements, and with large eyes
of piercing brilliance.  With him was a youth
whom even a white man, not easily able to
distinguish one negro from another, could hardly
fail to recognise as his son.  Reinecke gave them
their instructions in their own tongue, and with
a bullying manner that Tom secretly resented.
They received them silently, with an utter lack
of expression, displaying none of the interest or
alacrity which an English gamekeeper would have
shown in similar circumstances.\par

The party of four set off, the negroes leading.
Their destination was one of the rare streams that
traverse this part of the Plateau, and make their
way in devious course and with many cascades to
the great lake below.  The morning was still
young.  By starting early, Reinecke had
explained, they would make as large a bag as the
men could carry before the midday heat became
oppressive, and after a brief rest could stroll
leisurely back to a late lunch.  Tom reflected that
this attitude evinced no great enthusiasm for sport,
and concluded that Reinecke was really rather a
good fellow in taking so much trouble for the
sake of a guest.\par

It was not until they were well in the forest
that Mirambo showed any animation.  The
instincts of the old hunter awoke.  His keen eyes
moved restlessly, alert to mark the spoor of beasts
in the woods and on the open park-like spaces
dotted with acacias, euphorbias, and the wild thick
bushes known as scrub.  At one spot he became
excited, pointing to fresh marks in the soft soil.\par

"The tracks of a wart-hog," Reinecke explained.
"The beast evidently went to his hole not long ago."\par

"I've never seen one," said Tom.  "Couldn't
we track him and have a shot?"\par

"We couldn't carry him home.  We're out for
birds.  Still, I daresay the niggers could dispose
of him.  You can try your hand if you like."\par

To Tom's surprise, the negroes, instead of
following the tracks in the direction in which the
animal had apparently gone, went in the opposite
direction.\par

"They're going away from him," he said.\par

"No, no," said Reinecke with a smile.  "Speak
low--or better not at all: he's close at hand."\par

He halted, bidding Tom stand by with his
rifle ready cocked.  The two negroes stole
forward, and within about fifty yards posted
themselves one on each side of a hole in the ground.
Then together they began to stamp heavily with
their feet, uttering no sound, and keeping their
eyes fixed on the hole.  Wondering at this strange
performance, Tom looked inquiringly at Reinecke,
who shook his head and signed to him to be on
the alert.  Presently there appeared in the hole
the ugly tusked snout of a wart-hog.  He grunted
with annoyance at his slumbers having been
disturbed by a shower of falling earth, heaved his
ungainly body out, and began to trot away on his
short legs directly across the white man's line of fire.\par

"Now!" murmured Reinecke.  "Behind the ear."\par

Tom shouldered his rifle, took careful aim, and
fired.  But whether owing to excitement, or to
the fact that the animal, through his protective
colouring, was almost indistinguishable from the
background of brownish bush, his shot missed the
vital spot and inflicted only a gash in the shoulder.
The infuriated animal wheeled round and charged
across the open space.  But he had covered only
a few yards when a well-planted shot from
Reinecke's rifle stretched him on the ground.\par{}

\begin{figure}[h!tbp]
\label{figure-73}%
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{\centerleft{{\itshape{TOM TOOK CAREFUL AIM AND FIRED.}}
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"Don't take it to heart," said the German,
noticing Tom's crestfallen expression.  "Everyone
misses his first shot at a wart-hog.  I
remember a famous sportsman once having to dodge
round a tree for a quarter of an hour to escape
the tusks of a beast he had only wounded.  Better
luck next time."\par

"But why didn't he charge the negroes?  He
passed within a few inches of them."\par

"They stood a little way back from the hole,
you noticed; and besides, the beast is very
short-sighted.  You were surprised that all the tracks
apparently lead away from the hole instead of
towards it.  That's not cunning, as it was in the
case of that cattle-stealer, wasn't it? in classical
story who pulled oxen into a cave by the tails.
It's sheer necessity.  That hole was once the
dwelling of an ant-bear; the wart-hog had
appropriated it.  But his head and shoulders are so
much bigger than the rest of him that he has to
go in tail first."\par

The negroes had rushed to the animal as soon
as it fell, lifted the head slightly, and tied it to
one of the hind legs with thongs of creeper.
Then Mirambo tore a strip from his white
loincloth and attached it to the wart-hog's horns.\par

"That's to scare vultures away until our
return," said Reinecke.  "In the rainy season
myriads of flies would be at the carcase already,
but in this dry weather it will probably not suffer
much before the niggers get back to cut it up.
Hyenas and other scavengers don't prowl till
night.  Now let us get on."\par

The negroes, whose pleasure is always rather in
the quarry than in the chase, were delighted at
having secured, without trouble to themselves, a
quantity of fresh pork to carry home, and went
on with alacrity to the stream a few miles away.
Here, in the course of a couple of hours, the two
white men had shot as many geese, quail, and
guinea-fowl as the negroes could conveniently
carry slung about their bodies, with the prospect
of the addition of a good many pounds of hog's
flesh later.  Tom was disappointed of his
half-cherished hope of bagging a hippo; but his
morning's sport had been sufficiently exciting to
form an interesting part of his next budget of
news for his brother.\par

A negro carried the mail to Bismarckburg once
a week, and Tom had already dispatched his first
letter, giving a description of the plantation and a
running account of his experiences so far.  He
had confined himself to statements of fact, saying
nothing about the problems he found himself faced
with--the character of Reinecke and the conditions
of the negro labour.  Until he should have arrived
at definite conclusions on these matters he felt that
it would be unwise to trouble his brother with them.\par

In his second letter he related further
sporting expeditions, in some of which he had been
accompanied by Reinecke, in others only by
Mirambo and other natives.  He had shot
several hartebeeste and waterbuck, which
Mirambo was accustomed to skin and cut up on
the spot.  On these occasions Tom was tempted
sometimes to question the negro directly about
the conditions of his employment; but he was
held back by a sense of loyalty to Reinecke.
Pending further light on the man himself, he
would rely solely on his own observations.\par

It was at the end of the third week of his stay
that the first really disquieting incident occurred.
Reinecke had gone to Bismarckburg, and Tom,
having time on his hands, had made up his mind
to write a long letter home.  Going to the desk
to get some paper, he discovered that the drawer
in which he had usually found it was empty,
and he tried the drawer below.  This, however,
would not open fully: it stuck half way.  He
put his hand in, thinking that something had
probably become wedged between the upper part
of the drawer and the one above.  It was as he
had supposed.  By pushing in the drawer a little,
he was able to work out the obstruction, which
turned out to be a paper, half folded and much
creased.  On the portion that was not folded
down he saw a series of figures like the numbers
on the vouchers which were kept on a file.\par

"An old voucher," he thought; and unfolded
it to see if it were worth keeping.  To his
surprise it was dated Nov. 17, 1913, and evidently
belonged to the series which he had examined in
connection with the accounts of the past year.
But that series had corresponded exactly with the
entries in the stock book--or had he made a
mistake?  To reassure himself he got out the
file, turned to the vouchers for November, and
once more compared them with the book.  There
was no discrepancy.  The book showed that on
Nov. 17, 1913, a consignment of 1000 kilos was
shipped on board the {\itshape{Hedwig von Wissmann}}, and
there was a voucher corresponding.  The voucher
he had just found was for a consignment of 1000 kilos.\par

This was odd.  The numbers on the two
vouchers were consecutive: clearly they did not
refer to the same consignment.  Yet there was
only one entry of that date in the book.  If one
had been a duplicate or a carbon copy of the
other, the matter would have been easily explicable;
but both were originals, and written in the
same clerkly hand.\par

Troubled, for it was impossible to crush down
a suspicion, Tom put the voucher into his pocket,
and went out into the plantation.\par

"I'll write to Bob to-morrow," he said to
himself.  At the back of his mind there was
the feeling that he might have more to say than
he had expected.\par

Reinecke was in good spirits when he returned
about sunset.\par

"I've just made an excellent contract with a
dealer representing a new house," he said.  "He'll
take all next season's crop, at a good price.  I
hoped your visit would bring us good luck, and
this is the best."\par

"Capital news," said Tom.  The German's
manner was so frank and cordial that he was
almost ashamed of his suspicion.  "By the way,
I found this to-day: it was stuck between two
drawers.  Is it any good?"\par

He handed Reinecke the voucher, folded.  The
German opened it, and said instantly, with a smile--\par

"At last!  I wondered what had become of
it.  It is a voucher I lost, and I got the shipping
clerk to give me another.  You found that on
the file all right?"\par

"Yes."\par

"You don't know how I worried about that
lost voucher.  And you found it wedged between
the drawers?  Extraordinary way things have of
disappearing!  Well, we don't want it now.  But
I'm glad you found it."\par

He tore it across and threw the pieces into the
waste-paper basket.\par

"Now for dinner," Reinecke went on.  "I
hope your appetite is as good as mine.  And how
have you put in your time to-day?"\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
The German's explanation was so natural and
reasonable, so ready, his manner so free from
embarrassment, that Tom was for the moment
quite reassured, and chatted unconstrainedly until
bedtime--and Reinecke appeared to take great
pleasure in making him talk.  But later, in the
privacy of his room, some rather troublesome
questions suggested themselves.  Was it not
unlike a shipping clerk to issue a duplicate without
writing "duplicate" upon it?  How was it that
duplicate and original bore consecutive numbers,
when at least two or three days must have elapsed
between them?  It was very odd that no
consignment from another firm should have been
shipped in the interim.  And then suddenly Tom
flushed.  "By George!" he thought.  "I'm
hanged if the duplicate hasn't got the earlier
number!"\par

Then he wondered whether he was not mistaken.
Saying to himself, "I must find out for
certain," he went back to the living-room to
examine the fragments in the waste-paper basket.
He passed the door of Reinecke's room, and
heard his host splashing within.\par

The basket had been emptied.\par

The discoveries he had made kept Tom awake
during a good part of the night.  They were
very disturbing.  Reinecke's explanation had been
plausible enough, and it was possible Tom was
mistaken in his recollection of the numbers on
the vouchers.  But the German's haste in
disposing of the contents of the basket bred an ugly
suspicion.  Were there other such "duplicates"
in existence?  Did the books account for only
a part of the consignments?  Had Reinecke, in
fact, been systematically robbing his partners?
Tom felt worried and perplexed.  Here, thousands
of miles from home, young and inexperienced,
he was hardly in a position to deal with
a clever rogue, if Reinecke was in truth a
rogue; and he wished that he had some older
person at hand, some one like blunt, rugged
old Mr. Barkworth, to whom he could turn for
advice.  He was not likely to find any help
among the Germans in Bismarckburg, and
inquiries of the shipping clerk would probably
be fruitless.  Of course, he might question
Reinecke's own clerk, but that course had very
obvious disadvantages.\par

He concluded that he could do nothing at
present except mention the matter in his next
letter to his brother, and be more than ever alert
in studying his host.  To play the part of detective
was abhorrent, but there seemed to be no help
for it, and he writhed inwardly at the idea of
living under the same roof with a man whom he
distrusted but with whom he must try to keep
up an appearance of friendship.\par

When the next mail day came, his feeling of
mistrust prompted him to give his letter into the
hand of the negro postman just as the latter was
starting.  Reinecke's correspondence was as usual
placed in a padlocked bag.  The man had gone
about a mile on his way from the plantation when
Reinecke overtook him, carrying two letters.\par

"I forgot these," he said.  "Put down your bag."\par

He unlocked the bag, dropped his letters into
it, and took up the voucher slip bearing the
number of letters enclosed; this would be signed
at the post office and brought back with the
incoming mail.\par

"That letter of Mr. Willoughby's had better
go in too," he said.  "Give it to me."\par

The man took it from the folds of his
loincloth, and Reinecke appeared to drop it into the
bag.  In reality he put it into his pocket.  Having
altered the figures on the slip, he relocked the
bag and dismissed the man.  Twelve hours later
the postman returned and delivered his bag as
usual into his master's hand.\par

Next day, in going about the plantation, Tom,
as was natural enough, sought the negro, to ask
him whether he had duly posted the letter entrusted
to him in so unusual a manner.  But he could
not find the man, and on asking where he was,
learnt that he had been sent on an errand to
Bismarckburg.  It was nearly a fortnight before
he returned to the plantation, and by that time
Tom was no longer in a position to make any
inquiry of him.\par


\vs{4}
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{\noindent}
CHAPTER IV--TRAPPED}

\unskip\vskip 40pt\nobreak

{\noindent}
"You talked of slavery," said Reinecke one
day.  "Our niggers were no better than
slaves!  Have you seen anything to confirm that
rather scandalous suggestion?"  His tone was
lightly sarcastic.\par

"If you mean any signs of positive ill-treatment,
none," said Tom.  (He was not aware that
Reinecke had given the overseers strict orders
not to use their whips while the Englishman was
on the spot).  "But I had always understood that
the negro is naturally a cheerful person----"\par

"Well!" interrupted Reinecke.  "Don't they
laugh enough?  Don't they make noise enough?"\par

"The youngsters do make a great row," Tom
confessed smiling; "of course children always
are noisy and happy; they don't understand.  But
the older men seem rather apathetic.  Apart from
actual ill-treatment, of which I do you the justice
to say there's no sign, the mere loss of liberty
must be horribly depressing.  You admit that
they can't leave if they want to."\par

"Not at all.  Some have at times cut a way
through the hedge.  They've repented of it."  He
smiled grimly.  "But now, what would be
a convincing proof to you that things here are
after all not so bad?--that the life has some
attractions, even for the freedom-loving negro?"\par

"The return of one who had escaped, I suppose."\par

"That's a proof I can hardly give you, because
the few who have escaped--or run away, as I
should put it--have either been caught and brought
back or have no doubt come to grief in the forest.
But I can give you an instance of a nigger coming
here of his own accord, and being apparently quite
content to remain."\par

"Indeed!"\par

"Yes; and, strangely enough, he arrived on
the same day as you.  You won't suggest that
{\itshape{you}} are the attraction?"\par

Tom resented this unmannerly remark, still
more the tone in which it was uttered, but he said
nothing.\par

"As you may imagine," Reinecke went on,
"I don't know all the people.  My Arabs look
after them.  And I shouldn't have known
anything about this voluntary slave but for the fact
that I mistook him for Mirambo's son, and one
of the overseers corrected me.  It appears that
when we landed our stores from the {\itshape{Hedwig von
Wissmann}} that day, we were one porter short, and
this fellow, a sturdy lad, was hanging about and
appeared to have nothing to do.  He was engaged
and came up with the others and stayed on--works
well, and is quite cheerful, I'm told.  He's
astonishingly like Mirambo's boy.  Some of these
niggers claim to be descended from their old
kings or chiefs: Mirambo himself does; and it's
quite possible that this youth comes of the same
stock.  There's a jotting for your note-book,
if you are making notes, and I daresay you are."\par

Again there was a covert sneer in the German's
tone.  Tom felt that he would soon have to
quarrel with his host.  As soon as he should have
come to a definite conclusion about the man's
integrity he would cut his visit short.\par

It seemed, indeed, as if Reinecke was
determined to make him feel that he had overstayed
his welcome.  Once or twice, when he asked that
Mirambo or his son might accompany him shooting,
Reinecke declared that he could not spare
any of the men; it was the busiest time of the
year, not a time for amusement.\par

"But there's no reason why you shouldn't go
alone, if you find idleness boring," he added once.
"There are no dangerous beasts in our immediate
neighbourhood.  I'd only warn you not to go
too far."\par

Tom was glad enough to take him at his word.
While the fruit-picking was going on, there was
nothing for him to learn, and Reinecke had been
so ungracious lately that companionship was
impossible.  So he went occasionally into the woods
alone, never straying more than a mile or two
from the plantation, and taking even more
pleasure in quietly watching the smaller animals--the
tree-lizards, chameleons, iguanas--than in shooting
pigeons or teal.  His hope of big-game
hunting was apparently to remain unrealised.\par

One day on returning he found Reinecke in a
particularly good humour.\par

"I have had a visit to-day from a high German
officer, Major von Rudenheim," he said: "an
excellent soldier.  He came on the boat with
you, of course: did you have the pleasure of
conversing with him?"\par

"No.  He seemed to me too much of what
we call a big pot."\par

"True: our German officers are very much
above civilians.  In any case, however--you are
not aware that I hold the rank of Captain of
Landwehr?  So we met, as it were, on equal
terms, though he is a step higher in rank.  And
I have another piece of news for you.  Eland
have been seen near that small lake where we
shot buck with Captain Goltermann, you
remember.  Would you like to add elands' horns
to your trophies?"\par

"I should indeed," replied Tom, again wavering
in his estimate of Reinecke.  "He really isn't
a bad sort at times," he thought.\par

Next morning happened to be mail day, and as
Reinecke had letters to write, Tom feared that
he was to be disappointed.  But the German was
again in excellent temper.\par

"You can start without me," he said.  "I
shall be through with my letters in an hour or so,
and I'll follow you and meet you near the edge
of the lake--you remember, by that fallen tree
where we ate our lunch.  Don't startle the game
away: it will be a little practice in stalking for
you.  I'll bring the men along with me."\par

Tom set off, determined to show that the
woodcraft he had picked up during the past few
weeks was not inconsiderable.  He reached the
appointed spot, and ventured to cast about in
various directions, without, however, finding any
traces of the eland.  Returning to the rendezvous,
he was there joined by Reinecke, alone.\par

"I'm afraid the bird has flown," he said
ruefully.  "I haven't seen a sign of them."\par

"I will show you," replied Reinecke with a
smile.  "We shall have to stalk them, and we'll
see what we can do without Mirambo's assistance.
He'll bring up some men presently to carry home
the game."\par

He set off along a faint native track, so long
disused and so much overgrown that Tom by
himself would hardly have discovered it.  They
pushed their way through the vegetation, and
after about a quarter of an hour Reinecke whispered
to Tom to stop and be careful to make no noise.\par

"We ought to find our quarry in a glade just
ahead," he said.  "I'll go on: follow when I call."\par

He disappeared among the undergrowth.  In
a few minutes Tom heard a shot, then a faint
call, and hurried eagerly on.  The track widened
a little, and Tom was quickening his steps when
he suddenly felt the earth give way beneath his
feet, and next moment found himself lying at
the bottom of a deep pit, amidst a litter of earth
and brushwood, and conscious of a sharp pain in
the calf of his left leg.  Almost stunned by the
fall, he lay for a moment or two scarcely able to
realise what had happened.  Then he shouted for help.\par

There was no answer.  All was silent except
for the hum of insects and the rustling of some
small animals which his sudden descent upon
their lair had disturbed.  He shouted again, more
loudly; then, supposing that his voice from the
depth of the pit had not penetrated to Reinecke's
ears through the vegetation above, he reached for
his rifle, which lay beside him, and fired a couple
of shots into the air.  Not yet seriously uneasy,
he stooped to see what caused the pain in his leg,
and found that it had been gashed by one of some
half-dozen sharp-pointed stakes that were planted
in the bottom of the pit.\par

"A native game-pit," he thought.  "Reinecke
might have warned me."\par

Standing up, he discovered that his right ankle
was sprained.\par

"They'll have to carry me home," he thought,
"and the sooner the better; the stuff here must
have been rotting for years.  I wish to goodness
Reinecke would come."\par

Once more he shouted, then tried to scale the
wall of the pit; but this was perpendicular, and
it was evidently a case of cutting notches in
it--a tiresome job to a man who could scarcely stand.
It struck him that he had better bind up the gash
in his leg as well as he could.  When the men
came he would get them to carry him to the lake
and bathe the wound.  How lucky it was that
he had escaped with only one wound, and that in
no vital spot!  Looking at that ugly array of
spikes, he shuddered at the thought of the hideous
injuries they might have inflicted.\par

While tying his handkerchief tightly round his
leg he shouted from time to time.  Was it
possible that Reinecke had met with a similar
misfortune?  For the first time Tom felt really
uneasy.  Reinecke's call to him had been very
faint, and had not been repeated.  If they were
both in the same predicament there was no hope
of relief until the negroes came up from the
plantation.  To make sure of their not missing
him, he shouted and fired at intervals, until
almost all his cartridges were gone.  Still there
was no response.\par

He looked up the wall of the pit.  It was eleven
or twelve feet high.  If only he could raise himself
high enough to get his arms on the edge, the rest
would be easy.  It should not take very long
to cut a few notches in the earth: one of the
spikes would form a serviceable tool.  He worked
one out of the ground, and rose to his feet,
wincing with the pain that shot through his
sprained ankle.  To his chagrin, the earth of
the pit wall was friable.  It crumbled as he drove
the spike into it; so far from making a hole that
would afford him a firm foothold, he succeeded
only in breaking down a part of the wall.\par

"Fairly trapped," he thought, and sat down
again to ease his aching legs.\par

His watch announced midday.  The men ought
to have arrived by this time.  They would carry
food and drink, and he was very thirsty.  The
rendezvous was well known to them: surely
they had not mistaken Reinecke's instructions.
And then at last he was startled by a suspicion
that sprang up suddenly in his mind--a suspicion
so horrible that he strove to crush it.  Reinecke
might have lied to him about the vouchers; was
he villain enough to have decoyed him deliberately
to this cunningly concealed trap--deliberately
schemed to clear finally out of his path the man
whom he regarded as a stumbling-block on his
way to fortune, the discoverer of his crimes?\par

The thought, terrible as it was, would not be
stifled.  Tom recalled the gradual changes in the
German's manner--the descent from almost
excessive cordiality to stiffness, sarcasm, positive
rudeness: then the sudden return to geniality, the
apparent eagerness to indulge his guest.  For the
first time he was struck with the peculiar
arrangements for the day's shooting expedition--the
sending him on alone, the absence of gunbearers.
This train of thought, once started, was carried
on remorselessly by Tom's active imagination.
Granted the man's intention of putting him out
of the way, how easily one detail fitted into
another!  How naturally the Englishman's
disappearance could be explained!  It was known to
every one on the plantation that he had
sometimes gone shooting alone.  Reinecke could say,
and his statement could be corroborated, that his
guest had started alone on this morning, he
himself being engaged with correspondence.  He
had followed later, according to arrangement,
but had failed to meet the Englishman at the
appointed spot.  He had searched for him, and
after some days had found the poor fellow's
remains at the bottom of an old, long disused
game-pit.  How plausible the story would be!
Bob, thousands of miles away, would grieve: the
story might get into the papers: people would
read the paragraph, perhaps sigh, and pass on to
a scandal nearer home, or to the latest news of
the trouble in Ireland.  In a few weeks Tom
Willoughby would be only the shadow of a name.\par

Impatient with himself at the length his
imagination had carried him, Tom shouted again, fired
off another cartridge--the last but one.  "I must
keep one for emergencies," he thought.  He
made another attempt to cut holes in the wall,
and threw the spike from him in disgust at the
second failure.  It occurred to him to heap up
debris at the foot of the wall, to form a mounting
block; but at the stirring of the putrid mass
innumerable insects, beetles, reptiles, foul
nameless things issued forth, causing him to shudder
with loathing, and to shrink at actual pain from
their bites and stings.  Overcome with nausea,
he retreated to a far corner where this creeping
population had not been disturbed, and for a
time, weary as he was, sickened by his increasing
pain, he leant against the wall, rather than sit
down again, until sheer fatigue compelled him to
make an uneasy seat of his slanted rifle.\par

With the passage of time his thirst became a
torture, and the shouts he uttered ever and anon
sounded cracked and harsh from his parched
throat.  A sort of lethargy settled upon him:
not a stoic resignation, a calm acquiescence in
fate's decree, but a numbness of the senses and
the mind.  For a time he was scarcely conscious
of pain, of the things moving at his feet, of the
gradual cooling of the air as evening drew on.
Then he roused himself with a start, and heedless
of stings and the loathsome touch of obscene
creatures, he gathered up heaps of rotted leaves
and twigs and the litter that had fallen under
him, and began with frantic energy to pile them
against the wall.  His weight crushed them into
half their former bulk, and he fell exhausted on
the futile pillar.\par

Night came on.  Alternately he dozed, and
awoke to a sharpened keenness of apprehension.
Now and then he heard noises above--the harsh
persistent note of the nightjar, the hollow
melancholy scale of the hornbill, the horrid whine of
hyenas prowling in quest of prey and calling to
one another with increasing frequency as the night
stole towards dawn.  A sudden raucous cry,
apparently near at hand, caused him to seize the
spike for defence in case some unwary beast
should stumble into the pit.  Once he beheld a
pair of eyes, glaring with greenish light upon
him from the brink.  He uttered a hoarse cry:
the eyes disappeared: and he seemed to hear a
creaking rustle among the trees above.\par

Slumber again sealed his senses, and when he
awoke, the pale misty light of dawn threw green
rays into his prison.  His limbs were numb with
cold.  His dry throat gave forth only a whistling
croak when he tried to shout.  Scarcely able to
move, he watched the mouth of the pit and
the sunlight filtering through the foliage and
dispersing the mist.  Listless, unconscious of the
flight of time, he was just aware of the lengthening
day as a sunbeam climbed down the side of
his prison.  All at once he was shaken into
attention by a sound overhead, and while he was
feebly trying to call, a shadow fell across the
opening.  A man's form appeared, and with a
gasp of unutterable thankfulness he saw Reinecke
peering down upon him.  He struggled giddily
to his feet: surely the bitterness of death was past.\par

But what was Reinecke saying?  What words
were these, that struck upon his ear in spasms, as
it were?\par

"You came to spy ... enjoy your visit ...
mad English ... war with Germany ... learn
what it means to provoke the German."\par

He tried to collect his bewildered senses.  It
was Reinecke.  What was he talking about?
"Expedition to conquer Rhodesia ... months
before I return ... a safe resting-place ...
gather remains ... nothing but bones ...
white bones."\par

Had Reinecke gone?  The voice had ceased;
the sunlight fell unchecked: and Tom, in a last
flash of illumination before the darkness of
unconsciousness enshrouded him, realised that
Reinecke had betrayed him and had left him here
to die.\par


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{\noindent}
CHAPTER V--A FRIEND IN NEED}

\unskip\vskip 40pt\nobreak

{\noindent}
On the previous evening, when the day's
work on the plantation was over and
the workers had returned to their homes, a young
negro left the large dwelling which he shared with
a number of other unmarried men, and betook
himself to the hut where Mirambo was supping
with his family.\par

"Have you eaten already, Mwesa?" asked the
old hunter.\par

"No.  I am not hungry.  He has not come back."\par

The lad's eyes were wide with anxiety.  No
one could have failed to notice how strongly he
resembled Mushota, the slightly older lad squatting
by his father's side.\par

"Has the Leopard come back?"\par

"He came back at midday.  The Antelope will
never come back."\par

"Why so, Mwesa?"\par

"There has been whipping to-day."\par

Mirambo's face clouded.  There had been no
whipping since the Antelope, as Tom Willoughby
was known among the negroes, had come to the
plantation.  The Leopard was their name for
Reinecke.  The negro is very shrewd, and it had
not needed certain information brought by Mwesa
to make the people connect the cessation of
corporal punishment with the presence of the young
stranger.  That information, however, given first
to Mirambo, had spread through the whole
community, and was talked of freely among themselves.
But it had never reached the ears of the Arab
overseers: oppression is always met by secrecy.
Neither they nor Reinecke knew that the young
negro who had marched from Bismarckburg among
the porters, and had remained a willing worker on
the plantation, was not the chance recruit he had
seemed to be.  The stowaway of the {\itshape{Hedwig von
Wissmann}} had come of set purpose; and when
Reinecke sarcastically asked Tom whether he
supposed his attractions accounted for the boy's
staying on, he had unwittingly hit upon the truth.
Mwesa had stayed as a starved and beaten dog
will stay with one who has been kind to him.\par

Quite unaware of the interest he had excited
among these simple negroes, Tom had been
watched, all his movements commented on, from
day to day.  Whether by observation or by
instinct the negroes knew that there was some
intimate connection, obscure to them, between
him and their taskmaster.  They judged that the
young Englishman was an object of respect or
fear to the German, for Mwesa had told them
that he was English and that the English did not
whip their workers, except perhaps in punishment
for crime.  The Leopard had some reason for
drawing in his claws.\par

Mwesa, like others, had seen the Englishman
start, unattended, with his gun.  He had done so
before: those who saw him go marked the fact
as they marked all that he did, but thought no
more about it--except Mwesa, who watched all
day for his hero's return.  He had noticed,
moreover, the going and the coming of Reinecke, also
with his gun; and he had been troubled when the
German returned alone, and when at sunset the
Englishman was still absent.\par

"The Leopard has killed," said Mirambo after
an interval of gloomy silence.\par

Mwesa burst into tears.\par

When he left the hut later, after eating a bowl
of manioc, he carried a long sharp knife.  Stealing
along behind the huts, he made his way in the
darkness to a remote spot, climbed up into a tree,
and disappeared.  Half an hour later he crept
back to Mirambo's hut, restored the knife, which
the man would have to account for next day, and
then returned to his own lodging, and slipped in
unperceived by his fellow inmates.  His exit was
prepared, but no negro travels willingly by night.\par

Next day, at the time when the negroes had
their midday meal, he was about to make his
escape from a place no longer endurable to him,
when he caught sight of Reinecke leaving by the
gate, again unattended.  Mwesa looked around;
no one else was in sight.  He shinned up the tree
he had climbed the night before.  A few minutes
later he was running like a wild animal through
the scrub outside the fence.  He posted himself
among the trees at a spot where he could not fail
to see Reinecke as he left the gate.  When the
German had passed, the negro followed him with
the stealth of one come of a long line of hunters,
tracking him over the course he had pursued on
the previous day, without revealing himself by so
much as a rustle among the leaves or the crack of
a fallen twig.\par

As Reinecke approached the pit, no guardian
spirit told him of the watcher whose eager face
was looking at him out of a frame of green foliage,
whose keen ears pricked up as he heard his master
speaking to some one below him.  When the
German, his eyes alight with malign triumph,
turned to retrace his steps there was nothing to
show that he had been found out; the face had
disappeared.  Nor could Reinecke suspect that he
was dogged back to the plantation, and that when
the gate had closed upon him, a negro lad, lithe
as a young antelope, bounded back to the pit,
and peered anxiously into the depths.\par

Tom had relapsed into a state of half-consciousness.
He was roused by a voice, and looking up,
saw a black shiny face gazing down upon him.
Two rows of white teeth parted, two big eyes
danced with delight when they saw the white man
glance upward.\par

"Sah, sah!" called the voice.\par

"Who are you?" Tom murmured faintly.\par

"Me Mwesa, sah; me come back bimeby, you see."\par

The lad ran back into the forest.  Tom lay as
in a dream.  Who was this negro that spoke
negro's English, and had called him "sah"?  He
had never heard any of Reinecke's slaves use
English, yet what negro in these parts could be
other than one of Reinecke's slaves?  Where had
the boy gone?  What was he going to do?  Tom
felt almost too weak and listless even to hope.\par

After what seemed a very long time the negro
came back, carrying a long green rope which he
had plaited from strands of creepers.  His face
beamed with excitement and joy.  Making one
end of the rope fast to a sapling that grew near
the edge of the pit, he threw the other end down
and laughed when he saw that a long coil lay at
the bottom.  Then he swarmed down until he
stood over Tom, and exclaimed:\par

"Sah climb; all right now."\par

"Who are you?" Tom asked again.\par

"Me Mwesa.  No talk now: talk bimeby.
Dis bad place."\par

But climbing was easier said than done.  Tom
was amazed to find how weak he was after only
twenty-four hours' confinement in the pit.  "Have
I so little staying power?" he thought.  But
twenty-four hours in heat and squalor, without
food or water, with a wounded leg and a sprained
ankle, and a mind racked with anxiety and
foreboding, would have put a tax on the strongest.\par

He found himself unable to climb.  Whereupon
Mwesa knotted the rope about his waist,
swarmed up the rope again, and hauled until
sweat poured from his body.  As soon as Tom
was safely over the brink, the lad let himself down
once more into the pit, and returned with Tom's
rifle and a couple of the sharpened stakes.\par

"Come 'long, sah," he said: "me find place."\par

Tom allowed himself to be helped along, asking
no questions, content for the present to have
regained freedom after the horrors of the past
twenty-four hours.  Mwesa led him along the
old native track, in the opposite direction from
the plantation.  Presently they came to a brook
tumbling over rocks.  Here he bathed his aching
limbs and drank deep draughts.\par

"Where are you taking me?" he asked.\par

"No savvy, sah: all right bimeby," replied the boy.\par

They started again.  Mwesa kept carefully to
the track, tracing it unerringly even where it was
almost obliterated.  The forest was thick all
round, and Tom, at another time, might have
felt uneasy at this apparently aimless wandering.
Now, however, one way was as good as another,
so long as it did not lead back to the plantation.\par

Mwesa had no doubt guessed that the track
would sooner or later lead to a clearing.  After
more than an hour's painful walk, Tom found
himself at the edge of what had once been an
open space, but was now an expanse covered with
scrub and forest trees of recent growth.\par

"Stay dis place, sah," said the negro.\par

Tom was ready to stay anywhere.  He sank
down on the ground, and lay, resting and watching
the further proceedings of his rescuer.  The lad
cut down a number of young pliable branches,
trimmed them to the same length, and stuck them
into the ground in a circle, at equal intervals
apart, bending them at the top until all met.
Then he wound long grasses and tendrils of
creepers in and out around the whole circumference,
until in a surprisingly short space of
time he had fashioned a rough and ready circular
hut at the corner of the clearing, which was
almost completely hidden by rank growths of
vegetation.  He smiled with pride in his handiwork
when he invited Tom to enter.\par

"Come back bimeby," he cried, and darted
away into the forest.  When he returned he
brought a wild gourd full of water and a handful
of berries.\par

"No can get nuffin else," he said deprecatingly.\par

"They will do very well," said Tom, who
indeed could have eaten sawdust after his long
fast.  "Now tell me who you are, and how you
found me, and why you are helping me."\par

The smile that spread over the lad's face awoke
in Tom a dormant memory.  Surely this was the
boy who had rushed so eagerly to pick up his
match-box a day or two after he had reached the
plantation.\par

"Sah sabe Mwesa, Mwesa sabe sah," said the
negro, happily.\par

"Save!  What do you mean?"\par

"On boat, sah: German man kick, say frow
me in water: sah pay cash, all right all same."\par

"Oh!" exclaimed Tom, feeling a touch of
embarrassment.  That little unconsidered act of
kindness had surely not won such devotion as to
bring the boy into slavery for his sake?  "Tell
me about yourself," he said.\par

The negro's story, told in his strange English,
took a long time in the telling, so roundabout
was the course of the narrative, so much broken
by explanations and cumbered by trifling details.
But the gist of it, as understood by Tom, was as
follows--\par

Mwesa was the son of Miluma, once a notable
chief of the Wahehe, and one of those who had
sustained for a long time the resistance of his
people to the Germans.  At length he had fallen
into the enemy's hands, and had been among
the first batch of labourers who had cleared the
ground for Reinecke's plantation.  Miluma's wife
and two of his children had died under their
hardships, and the chief, left with Mwesa alone, had
fled with the boy, and, more lucky than other
negroes, had neither been recaptured nor killed
in the forest.  He had fallen in with an English
trader, with whom he had taken service,
accompanying him in his journeys through the country
of the Great Lakes, and living at other times
among his native household at Zanzibar.  Mwesa,
only a few years old at the period of the escape,
had at first remained in Zanzibar during his
father's absence, but at the age of twelve he, too,
had travelled with the Englishman's caravan, and
had picked up a smattering of English as well
as of the dialects of the tribes through whose
countries he had passed.\par

Then his father died, the Englishman returned
to Europe, and Mwesa, now seventeen, was left
alone in the world.  Having a little money in
his possession, he bethought him of his uncle
Mirambo, whose large family had prevented him
from escaping at the same time as Miluma, and
of whom his father had often spoken.  He would
return to the plantation, see if his uncle were yet
alive, and perhaps help him, or any of his family
who were still living, to escape with him to
British territory.  He took passage in a dhow
that was sailing down the lake, but the vessel had
been blown ashore, and the shipwrecked crew and
passengers robbed of all they possessed by
predatory natives.  Mwesa and one other had got away,
and after an adventurous journey had arrived at
Ujiji.  Learning there that a steamer was expected
at Kigoma, Mwesa had made his way to the port
and smuggled himself on board.\par

On arriving at Bismarckburg he had found that
the young Englishman who had befriended him
on board the vessel was going to the plantation
which was his own goal, and had at once sought
employment among the porters.  It seemed to
him that the presence of an Englishman was a
good augury for the success of his mission.  He
had remained at the plantation, always on the
watch; and it was not long before he suspected
that Reinecke had a grudge against his benefactor.
Slight signs that might have escaped the notice
of anybody who had not a personal interest in the
Englishman had betrayed to him and to Mirambo
the real feelings of the German; and Mwesa had
now a double motive: the rescue of his uncle and
the care of the white man.  For the sake of the
latter uncle and nephew had concealed their
relationship, awaiting the day when, as they expected,
the Englishman would leave.  On that day they,
too, would go.  But the crisis had come in an
unforeseen manner.  The disappearance of the
Englishman and Reinecke's strange movements
had intensified their suspicions, and Mwesa had
stolen out to discover what the German had done
with his guest.\par

Tom thanked the boy warmly for what he had
done for him.  He was a good deal troubled in
mind, and passed many hours of the night in that
grass hut in anxious meditation on his position.
Mwesa had rescued him from a lingering death, but
to what end?  If it was true, as Reinecke had said,
that Britain was at war with Germany, that already
a German expedition against Rhodesia was in
preparation, the immediate future was very black.
He dared not go to Bismarckburg; the nearest
British territory was forty or fifty miles away;
how was it possible to accomplish so long a
journey through difficult country and hostile
people?  At present, indeed, his injuries
precluded even a much shorter journey.  Until he
should have fully recovered he must remain in
hiding.  How was he to subsist?  There was
game in the forest, no doubt plenty of vegetable
food in the shape of berries and nuts, though
only a native could distinguish the edible from
the poisonous.  Mwesa would help him--but
Mwesa was himself a complication.  Tom felt
that, the boy having done so much for him, he
was bound to consider the boy, and Mirambo;
his lot seemed to be knit with theirs.  It would
not be just to appropriate Mwesa, and leave his
relatives in the slavery from which the boy had
come to deliver them.  Yet how helpless he was
to do anything either for them or for himself!\par

He fell asleep with these problems all unsolved.
When he awoke the boy was gone.  Tom
supposed that he was seeking food, but as time
slipped away and Mwesa did not return he grew
uneasy.  Then, however, common sense asserted
itself.  The boy who had already dared so much,
who had built him a hut and brought him food,
would not desert him.  There must be some
good reason for his absence.\par

A little after mid-day Mwesa came back,
looking more pleased with himself than ever.
A rabbit dangled from his waist; slung over
one shoulder was a native grass bag stuffed with
cassava; in one hand he carried an axe, in the
other a sporting rifle, which Tom recognised as
the property of Reinecke.  Mwesa threw his
load down, and emptying his bag, revealed,
under the cassava roots, a number of cartridges.
He chuckled with delight.\par

"You have been back to the plantation?" said Tom.\par

"Yes, sah: me go back; nobody see."\par

He went on to explain that there were strange
doings at the plantation.  Reinecke had called
the negroes about him, and told them that war
had broken out between England and Germany;
that the Germans were going to seize all the
English lands in Africa; that he himself was
a great officer in the German army, and had been
ordered to turn every able-bodied man into
a soldier.  The gathering of the crops being
finished, such work as was necessary on the
plantation must be done by the women and the
older men.  He was going to Bismarckburg to
arrange for supplies of arms.  During his absence
the overseers would exercise the men.\par

Taking advantage of the excitement that
followed this announcement, Mwesa had managed
to possess himself of the articles with which
he had come laden.\par

"Me now sah him boy," he said gleefully.\par

Tom looked at him with a ruminating eye.
It was well to have a companion in this forest
solitude, and he felt instinctively that Mwesa's
fidelity might be relied on.  But was he entitled
to involve the boy in his own misfortunes, or
to separate him from his new-found relatives?
He reflected that the boy would be useful to
him in helping him to find his way into British
territory; and when Mwesa emphatically assured
him that he was determined not to go back to
the plantation, or to be drilled to fight against
the English, he made up his mind to accept the
service thus volunteered.\par

"Very well, Mwesa," he said, "you are my
boy.  Whatever comes, we will share it."\par

Mwesa was already skinning the rabbit, and
Tom having a box of matches, the boy kindled
a fire and prepared to cook a meal for his new
master.  Meanwhile Tom took earnest thought
for their future.  Until he had recovered from
his injuries it would be hopeless to attempt to
reach Abercorn; but it struck him that to remain
in his present position, only a few miles from
the plantation, might be dangerous.  Reinecke
might revisit the pit, and finding it no longer
tenanted, would almost certainly hunt for him in
the neighbourhood.  It was necessary to find a
secure refuge where he could rest until he was
able to undertake the journey.  Almost as soon
as the idea occurred to him, he remembered that
he had passed this way with Reinecke and
Goltermann, on the day when he had first made
distant acquaintance with crocodiles.  The nullah
and the lake in the hills lay a few miles to the
east.  The former, with its windings, its
overhanging rocks, its patches of dense scrub, would
furnish a safe hiding-place.  Game was plentiful
in the adjacent forest; the lake would be an
unfailing water supply; and though he would
have to guard against falling a prey to the
reptiles that infested its shores, Mwesa's
knowledge of their ways would no doubt serve him
well.  The neighbourhood was wholly
uninhabited, and it was so far from the plantation
that Reinecke and his people were unlikely to
visit it.\par

Could he find it?  Having gone there only
once, before he had had any experience of forest
travel, he knew that unassisted he would have
been completely at a loss.  But he hoped that
Mwesa would discover the track leading to it,
and when, as he ate his dinner of roast rabbit,
he mentioned the matter to the negro, the latter
instantly started up and ran off in the direction
Tom pointed out.  In twenty minutes he was
back, and declared with his invariable smile that
he had found the track.  He proceeded to
dismantle the hut and to obliterate the traces of
the fire; then, loading himself with their few
possessions, he begged Tom to lean on him and
make for their new home at once.\par

Tom limped along, anxious to reach the
nullah before night.  On the way Mwesa told
him more about the morning's scene at the
plantation.  Reinecke had boasted that the English
were to be driven into the sea.  All their
possessions would become the booty of the Germans,
and the Wahehe, if they served him faithfully,
should share in it.  They had once been great
warriors; now they would learn how to be
askaris, and under German leadership do great
deeds and amass great riches.  The negroes had
listened to him in silence; and only when he
had left them did their sullen discontent find
expression.  They remembered that they had
always fought against the Germans, not for them;
and some of the elder men said they would rather
fight against them again.  But there was no open
revolt; cowed by years of oppression, devoid of
leadership, they could only accept their destiny.\par

With great difficulty Tom managed to drag
himself along for two or three miles; then he
declared that he could go no farther.  It was
already late in the afternoon.  Mwesa at once
constructed a temporary hut, and there they
passed the night.\par

Next morning, after again covering their tracks
as completely as possible, they set off again.
Even with Mwesa's support, Tom could only
crawl along at the rate of little more than a mile
an hour.  The almost disused hunter's path was
sometimes hard to find: here and there it was
overgrown with thorns through which Mwesa
had to cleave a way; and in the middle hours
of the day the humid heat was so oppressive that
Tom had to take long rests.  Towards evening,
however, they came suddenly upon a dip in the
ground which Tom thought he recognised.\par

"Run ahead," he said to Mwesa, "and see if
the nullah is in that direction."\par

The boy sprinted away, returning in a few minutes.\par

"All right, sah!" he cried.  "All right ober dah."\par

They went on.  Emerging from the forest,
they crossed an expanse of scrub and came to
the mouth of the nullah, which was like a deep
cutting in the hills.  A thin stream trickled down
the middle: Tom could not doubt that the lake
must be only a few hundred yards farther, and,
in spite of his fatigue, he struggled on to make
sure that he had reached his destination.  There
at last was the lake, still, not a breath of air
bending the rushes on its banks, or stirring the
trees on the island in the centre.\par

Mwesa had just time to rig up a slight shelter
of branches near the margin of the lake before
darkness fell.  He cooked some manioc for Tom
and himself; and when Tom sank into heavy
sleep, the boy kept watch all night by the fire.\par

In the grey light of dawn, when Mwesa also
was asleep, Tom was awakened by a rustling at
the entrance of the rude hut, across which Mwesa
had thrown a rough barrier of thorns as a defence
against a chance marauder.  Starting up on his
elbow, he saw dimly some dark shape apparently
edging its way between the lower part of the
barrier and the ground.  For a moment or two
he was unable to distinguish what it was; then
he gave a sudden shout, seized the shot-gun
which lay by his side, sprang to his feet and
fired.\par

Awakened by his shout, Mwesa had jumped
up and come to his master's side.  There was
a violent commotion in the thorny barrier.  Next
moment the slight hut collapsed, and both
occupants were half buried by the boughs.
Extricating themselves from the tangle, they peered
out at the interlaced branches of thorn.  Nothing
was to be seen.\par

"Wat dat noise, sah?" whispered Mwesa.\par

"I think I saw the snout of a crocodile,"
replied Tom.\par

Mwesa clicked in his throat, caught up his
axe, and rushed out.  But the crocodile had
disappeared.\par

"He berry much 'fraid, sah," said the boy,
when he came back.  "Gun make him berry
sick.  He go tell no come dis way no more: oh no!"\par


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{\noindent}
CHAPTER VI--MWESA'S MISSION}

\unskip\vskip 40pt\nobreak

{\noindent}
Tom could not help laughing as he
surveyed the ruins of Mwesa's little building,
and the negro himself put his hands on his hips
and roared with merriment.\par

"Silly fella tink all same proper house," he
said, alluding to the crocodile.  "Me show him."\par

It was clear that their first task, if they were
to remain for any length of time in this spot,
must be to construct a more substantial dwelling,
and after a light breakfast they set forth to
survey for a site.  Tom found that his long
tramp on the previous day had caused his
injured ankle to swell, and he could only get along
by hopping on his sound foot.  Fortunately he
had not far to go before lighting on a suitable
situation in a spot above the shore of the lake,
where a few isolated trees in the form of a rough
circle enclosed a clear space some twenty yards
across.  Here, after bathing his ankle and tying
his handkerchief tightly about it, he sat down to
watch Mwesa set about building him a "proper house."\par

The boy cut down with his axe a number of
straight saplings, trimmed them, cut them to the
same length, and then planted them in a circle in
the centre of the space.  After a search along
the banks of the stream he returned with a load
of withies cut from tough creeping-plants.  With
these he bound the upright poles together: first
in the middle, then two feet below, and finally
the same distance above.  He worked with such
astonishing speed that early in the afternoon the
framework of the new hut was complete, standing
up like a cage or a circular crate.  After a short
rest he started on the roof.  He gathered together
a number of flexible saplings, which he laid down
on the floor of the hut so that they radiated from
the centre like the spokes of a wheel.  Then he
fastened the ends together, lifting the saplings
one by one until the structure resembled the ribs
of an inverted Chinese umbrella.  When it was
finished he drew the loose ends together, turned
it upside down, and pushed it up through the
open roof space, the ends, when released, resting
on the tops of the poles.  The skeleton of the
hut was complete.\par

Tom envied the boy's dexterity.  All his
measurements had been made with the eye alone,
and Tom reflected that the work would have
occupied a white artisan, provided with a foot
rule, probably twice or thrice as long.  Mwesa
promised that another day's work would finish
the job.\par

Next day he filled up the interstices between
the poles with damp mud, which he carried in
his wallet from the edge of the lake.  He left
a space about three feet square at the entrance;
and built up with mud, in the interior of the hut,
a long bench some three feet high.  The mud
dried rapidly in the heat of the day, and when
the bench had hardened, he mounted upon it,
and wove long grasses in and out among the
rods composing the roof, until this was fairly
impervious.  It would give slight protection
against heavy rain, but the rainy season was not
yet due, and Tom agreed that the hut would
form a very serviceable shelter during the short
time he expected to occupy it.\par

It occurred to him, however, to suggest a
means of doubly securing themselves against
intruders, human or other.  The trees surrounding
the open space could be turned into an effective
zariba by planting poles between them, and
interlacing the poles with strands of prickly thorn.
Mwesa fell in with the notion at once, but this was
a much longer task than the construction of the
hut had been, and in fact it occupied him off and
on for nearly a week.\par

Meanwhile the food he had brought from the
plantation had long been consumed, and he spent
part of every day in snaring birds or small animals
for the subsistence of himself and his master.  It
appeared that vegetable food was not to be
obtained in this part of the country, and Tom grew
somewhat uneasy as to the effect of an uninterrupted
diet of flesh.  He was uneasy, too, about
his injuries.  The wound caused by the spike was
healing well, but the swelling of his ankle was
but little reduced, and it gave him great pain to
hobble even a few yards.  It was clear that without
the ministrations of his faithful and indefatigable
boy he would starve.\par

Often as he lay at night, on rushes strewn upon
the bench, listening to the cries of night-birds,
the bark of distant hyaenas, the coughs of the
crocodiles in the lake, the grunts and snarls of
beasts that came prowling around the zariba, but
never attempted to penetrate it, scared by the fire
kept constantly burning within the enclosure--as
he lay listening to these eerie sounds he pondered
plans for the future.  His dearest wish was to
make his way to the frontier as soon as he was fit
to travel, and to join the British forces which, he
supposed, were gathering to resist the German
invasion.  The news that Germany and Britain
were at war had scarcely surprised him.
Recollections of what he had heard and seen during
his year in Germany seemed to give corroboration
enough.  He remembered in particular
one young German baroness, who had been to
school at Cheltenham, and was continually
boasting of what the Germans would do when "the
Day" came.  He remembered, too, how his father
scoffed at the warnings of those who foretold that
Germany was only awaiting an opportunity for
making her tiger-spring, and how he and his
brother had been rebuked for heeding the
"alarmists."  And now the Day had come at last.  He
wondered what spark had exploded the European
powder-barrel, what pretext Germany had alleged
for the attack which, he believed, she had long
been secretly cherishing and preparing for.  In
the only letter he had received from England
since his arrival, Bob had said nothing of trouble
brewing.  Whatever the ostensible reason was, he
had no doubt the war had sprung from Germany's
lust for world-power, and with the easy confidence
which too many Englishmen felt in those early
days, he believed that the British Navy would
square accounts with the Germans before many
months had passed.  He did not know that
Germany had cast her gauntlet in the face of
half the world, did not suspect that she had
already set the bases of civilisation staggering.\par

As for Africa, he took it for granted that
German possessions would soon be wiped off the map.
It would have been difficult for a true-born
Englishman to think otherwise.  All that he wished
and hoped for was that he might reach Rhodesia
before the last act was played.\par

When about ten days had slipped away, and
even Mwesa had nothing to occupy him except
the daily search for food, Tom began to fidget
for news.  He was still unable to walk without
pain; inaction irked him, and ignorance of what
was going on at the plantation and beyond gave
him a fit of the blues.  His despondency did not
escape the keen eyes of the negro, who at last
asked what was troubling him.\par

"I want to know things, Mwesa," he answered:
"what Reinecke is doing, whether fighting has
already begun--all sorts of things.  And I want
to get away from here and join my own people."\par

The boy's anxious expression cleared; his eyes
brightened.\par

"Me go; one day, two, me come back tell
sah," he said.\par

"Do you think you could go safely?"\par

Mwesa looked hurt at the suggestion.  Had he
not already stolen in and out of the plantation?
Why should his master suppose that he could
not do it again?  He would set off at once,
as soon as he had provided food and water for
a day or two, and he would come back stuffed
with news.\par

The boy was so eager that Tom let him go.
He took nothing but his wallet and a knife.  By
nightfall he would reach the plantation.  There
he would learn all that was to be learnt from
Mirambo: his master would be only one night alone.\par

It was not till the dense blackness of night
brooding over the nullah deepened his feeling of
solitude that Tom doubted whether he had done
right.  The boy might not return: who could tell
what mischance might befall him?  In daytime he
might escape the many perils of the forest; but
what if he were discovered in his furtive passage
of the thorn fence and impressed into the ranks
of the recruits?  "Without Mwesa what will
become of me?"  The troublesome question gave
Tom no rest as he lay in the hut, listening to the
outer noises to which darkness adds mystery and
horror.  Alone, almost helpless, what could a
white man do in the wilds of Africa?  Tom was
not ordinarily a victim to "nerves"; but the
series of shocks he had recently suffered had
quickened his imagination in proportion as it had
reduced his physical vigour, and the sensations of
that night were one long nightmare.\par

At dawn, limp and haggard, he got up, crawled
out of the hut, and sat down with his back against
a tree-trunk, listening for the return of the negro
boy.  He heard rustlings among the trees, the
call of a quail, the snorting grunt of some animal
prowling round the zariba.  But neither rustle
nor footfall caught his ear when Mwesa suddenly
appeared at his side.\par

"Come back all right, sah," said the boy
cheerfully.\par

"But how?  I didn't hear you.  How did
you get in?"\par

"Climb tree, sah; come like snake."\par

He had dropped thus into the enclosure to
avoid making a gap in the fence.  As before, he
came laden with food.  Welcome as this was,
Tom was more eager to have his tale of news;
but before Mwesa would relate his discoveries, he
produced from his wallet, with much show of
mystery, a small bundle with a covering of leaves
tied with grass thread.  Opening this with an
expression of great solemnity, he displayed a
lump of some substance olive-green in colour,
and of the consistency of putty.\par

"Good medicine, sah.  Mirambo my uncle:
berry clebber pusson.  Me make sah well."\par

Dropping to his knees he unwound the
handkerchief from Tom's injured ankle, pinched off
a small portion of the plastic medicament, and
rubbed it gently over the joint, muttering strange
words.  It gradually softened to a greenish oil.
When the joint was thoroughly anointed, the boy
bound it again with the handkerchief, jumped up,
and, smiling away his look of intent earnestness
declared:\par

"Sah, one time better; two time better; t'ree
time all same well."\par

Then he unslung from his shoulder a small iron
cooking-pot, and sat down to tell his news.\par

At the plantation drill was in full swing.  Some
askaris had come from Bismarckburg under the
charge of a German non-commissioned officer,
the former as guards and examples, the latter to
train the new recruits.  Drill went on all day and
every day, the German giving his commands in
a Bantu dialect which was hard to understand,
with the result that he frequently lost his temper.
The negroes who were slow were stimulated by
the whips of the overseers.  A few rifles had been
brought, and some of the quicker men were
already being trained in aiming and sighting: as
yet they had fired no shot.  They were all sullen
and resentful; but cowed by the presence of the
armed askaris and in constant fear of the whip,
they gave no utterance to their feelings in face
of their taskmasters, pouring out their hearts
only in the seclusion of their own huts and sheds.\par

Reinecke himself was now seldom at the
plantation.  Mirambo believed that he was busy at
headquarters at Bismarckburg.  The askaris had
said that a great force was being prepared to attack
the English in Abercorn, and had boasted of the
terrible things they were going to do and the great
riches they would soon enjoy.  They told of many
battles won in the white man's country far away;
of many great cities which the Germans had taken;
how the King of England and his war chiefs had
been hanged by the people, enraged at defeat.
Soon there would not be a single Englishman in
the whole of Africa.\par

"Do they believe that stuff?" said Tom.  "It's
all nonsense."\par

Mwesa was not at all sure that he had not
believed it himself, for how was a simple African
to deny what was told him with such assurance?
Indeed, even among the Germans, settlers and
soldiers alike, in those early days of the war, no
rumour was too fantastic to find easy credence.
Conceit is a hotbed for credulity.  But Tom's
vigorous assertion that it was all nonsense was
enough to convince Mwesa.\par

"Dey silly fellas, sah," he said scornfully.
"Mwesa him English: he know all right."\par

Tom knew nothing of the relative strength of
the British and German forces in East Africa;
but having a Briton's invincible faith in the British
Navy, he could not believe that the German colony,
cut off from Europe as it must be, could really
measure itself against the resources of the British
Empire.  But he remembered how, in the past,
British carelessness and want of foresight had bred
disasters only painfully retrieved, and he felt no
little anxiety as to how far Northern Rhodesia
was prepared to resist the expedition which the
Germans were organising.\par

He was only the more eager to join his fellow-countrymen,
and take his part in the fight, if fight
there was to be.  At school he had been colour-sergeant
in the cadet corps, and looked back with
reminiscent pleasure on the field days, when, in
the intervals of business, he had munched apples
in a farmer's orchard or solaced himself and his
squad with junket in a dairy.  "Rummy," he
thought, "if all that swat were to turn out useful
after all.  But here it will be minus the apples
and junket."\par

This being his state of mind, he was doubly
curious about the healing properties of the
stuff"--Mirambo's plasticine, he called it--that Mwesa
had brought from his uncle.  He was aware almost
at once of a lessening of the pain in his ankle.
After the second application the swelling was
sensibly reduced; within a week he found himself
able to walk freely.  Mwesa took the cure as a
matter of course.\par

"What's the stuff made of?" Tom asked him.\par

Mwesa shook his head gravely.\par

"Berry good medicine: Mirambo him savvy all same."\par

And that was all that Tom could get out of him.\par


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\hypertarget{chapter-vii-tom-seizes-the-occasion}{}%
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{\noindent\interlinepenalty \@M\normalfont\Huge\bfseries%
{\noindent}
CHAPTER VII--TOM SEIZES THE OCCASION}

\unskip\vskip 40pt\nobreak

{\noindent}
Tom had many occasions during the next
ten days to rejoice in the possession of
an excellent servant.  Mwesa was everything in
turn--hunter, cook, valet, hospital orderly; and
in every capacity he was efficient.  His snares and
traps stocked the larder; the grain, he had brought
from the plantation was eked out with wild fruits
gathered in the forest; and out of the one simple
cooking-pot he produced as great a variety of good
things as a conjurer out of a hat.  Always with
the same gravity and the same muttering of spells,
he anointed and massaged Tom's ankle daily,
and never failed to sing the praises of his uncle
Mirambo.  His constant cheerfulness acted as a
tonic on his master's spirits, and with reviving
health Tom felt braced to endure whatever
hardship the future might bring.\par

At last the day came when he declared that he
was ready to start for Abercorn.  He had talked
over his plans with Mwesa, handicapped, however,
by the fact that neither he nor the negro knew
the route or the character of the country to be
travelled.  The extent of his information was that
Abercorn lay somewhere to the south-west, and
from a hazy recollection of a map glanced at
during his voyage from England he guessed that
the town was forty or fifty miles away.  Under
the most favourable conditions he could hardly
hope to cover that distance in less than three days:
if the country was specially difficult the journey
might last even weeks.\par

It was unfortunate that Reinecke's plantation
lay across the direct route.  In order to avoid it,
he must make a considerable detour, which would
add he knew not how many miles to the journey.
And then he would have to cross the main
German road connecting Bismarckburg on Lake
Tanganyika with Neu Langenburg about twenty
miles north-west of Lake Nyassa.  This, the only
practicable highway, might be crowded with
transports and would certainly be patrolled; but he
hoped by careful scouting to discover some part
of its great length where, either by day or by
night, he could safely make the crossing.\par

Deciding to attempt a start at dawn on the
following day, the two made their simple preparations.
Mwesa stuffed into his wallet all the edible
fruits he could gather, and after cooking the last
meal, took his pot to the lake, and washed it
thoroughly.  He filled with water a couple of
gourds, one of which he fitted with a grass thong
for slinging over Tom's shoulder.  Tom cleaned
his rifle, bathed in the lake, keeping a wary eye
open for crocodiles, and washed out his only shirt,
with a sigh for the contents of his travelling case,
now, he supposed, appropriated by Reinecke.\par

They were about to turn in early that evening
when Mwesa jumped up suddenly and darted out
of the low entrance to the hut.  Tom, surprised,
followed him, and found him standing in an
attitude of expectancy just outside.  A few moments
later he heard a human cry, faint and muffled, as
if coming from a great distance.  Mwesa was
greatly excited.\par

"Two time," he cried, turning his head in the
direction from which the sound had come.\par

"You heard it before?" Tom asked.\par

Mwesa held up his hand enjoining silence.
They waited.  A minute or two passed; the cry
was repeated, and Mwesa, still more excited, said:\par

"Mhehe call; man belong me."\par

"One of your own people!  It must be
some one from the plantation.  Answer him ...
No, wait.  Reinecke may be setting a trap for us.
Perhaps he has visited the pit and discovered my
escape, and guesses I may be somewhere in the
forest."\par

Again they heard the cry.\par

"Who knows you are with me, besides
Mirambo?" asked Tom.\par

"Mushota, no more, sah.  Mirambo say no
tell: berry wise man, Mirambo."\par

"Then I think we had better answer: it may
be Mirambo himself.  But we will not call here;
let us get away from the hut.  It will not do to
risk bringing an enemy here."\par

It was now nearly dark.  Adopting Mwesa's
precaution, they climbed one of the trees that
formed the boundary of their enclosure, dropped
to the ground outside the zariba, and made their
way into the nullah.  The cry was repeated once
more; this time it was louder.  When they had
walked nearly a quarter of a mile down the nullah,
Tom ordered Mwesa to answer, and the boy let
out a curious series of notes, like the dropping
scale of the hornbill.  There was a shout in
response.\par

"Mushota, sah," cried Mwesa, his big eyes
gleaming.  "He say what place me be."\par

"Tell him."\par

Mwesa directed his cousin, and in a few minutes
the lad, so strangely like him, came bounding along
in the middle of the watercourse.  The two negroes
embraced, and Mushota, his features and arms
working with excitement, poured out a story in a
torrent of clicks and gurgles, every now and then
glancing at Tom, who stood a little apart.\par

Mwesa's expressive countenance showed that
the story affected him deeply.  He turned to his
master, and seemed to strive to find English words
in which to repeat what he had heard.\par

"Come, let us get back to our hut," said Tom.
"We can only just see to find our way.  You can
tell me all about it as we go."\par

Tom had two natural gifts rare in one who was
little more than a schoolboy--patience and
sympathy.  He could be stiff enough with his equals
in rank and education; but with this faithful
negro lad, ignorant, struggling to express himself
in a strange and difficult language, he was so
patient that Mwesa's stumbling utterance became
more coherent as he told Mushota's story, and
Tom was able to grasp its essentials.\par

It concerned Mirambo.  The old hunter, once
a chief and a warrior of renown among his own
people, had not taken kindly to the methods of
the German drill-sergeant.  Day after day he had
been flogged by the overseers for slowness of
movement or some other fault in drill, and at last
the German sergeant, who had hitherto left
punishment to the Arabs, had kicked the man in the
presence of the whole company of recruits.  Mirambo
had retaliated with a swift blow that knocked
the German off his feet.  The sergeant, when he
got up, was on the point of shooting the negro;
but the head overseer, interposing, explained that
Mirambo was Reinecke's best hunting man, and
the sergeant had then ordered him to be chained
up until Reinecke returned from Bismarckburg.
Only a few days before, a negro had been shot
for a similar offence, and Mushota feared that his
father would suffer the same fate.  Knowing the
whereabouts of the white man who had befriended
his cousin, he had stolen out at midday when
even the indefatigable German rested, and had
come to beg the m'sungu to save his father.\par

"But why come to me?  What can I do?"
asked Tom, astonished at the confidence with
which Mwesa put his cousin's plea.  It was
almost laughable that they should seek help of
him, a fugitive, one whom Reinecke had tried to
kill, a single man without resources in an enemy's
country.\par

"Sah English," exclaimed Mwesa.  "Sah savvy
big medicine, white man medicine.  Sah boss,
no fear."\par

Touched by this childlike faith in the power
either of the English name or of "white man
medicine," which he supposed to mean some
magic art, he was at a loss what answer to make.
He was willing enough to help, but quite unable
to see how.  It seemed best to temporise--to
refrain from immediately dashing the negroes'
hopes, and to explain to them presently how
impossible was the feat besought of him.\par

"We will talk it over in our hut," he said,
and was then sorry he had deferred the inevitable
disappointment, for Mwesa clapped his hands and
laughed, and said to Mushota a few words that
set him laughing too.  His caution had only
strengthened their belief in him.\par

The two negroes chattered together the rest of
the way to the hut, and Tom was left to his by
no means pleasant reflections.  How could he
break the unpalatable truth to these simple souls?
What would be the effect on them?  He could
enter into their feelings through the recollection
of an incident of his own childhood.  His father
had promised him, a child of five, the present of
a horse, and he remembered the bitter tears he
shed when the horse turned out to be a wooden
toy instead of the expected creature of flesh and
bone.  The negro is always a child.\par

And then he found himself thinking: "Why
not risk a visit to the plantation?  It's running
my head into a noose, perhaps; but after all I
owe to Mwesa I may at least show him that I'm
ready to do what I can.  He can get in and out:
why shouldn't I?  Reinecke is absent.  I don't
suppose he ever confided to the Arabs his pleasant
intentions with regard to me; perhaps I might
venture to tackle them (provided the drill
sergeants aren't about), and get them to release
Mirambo....  What tosh! of course that's
impossible: still, I might at least reconnoitre, and
I'll be hanged if I don't."\par

It was dark when they reached the hut, but
the slight glow from the fire that Mwesa had
kept always burning in the enclosure revealed to
Tom the look of hopeful contentment on the
faces of the two negroes.  They all squatted at
the entrance, and Tom asked:\par

"When will Reinecke be back?"\par

Mwesa translated to his cousin.  The answer
was, "To-morrow night."\par

"How many Germans are at the plantation?'\par

"One: the other had accompanied Reinecke."\par

"And how many askaris?"\par

"Six; the others had gone to Bismarckburg."\par

Tom pondered this information.  He had no
chance if he was caught; the likelihood of his
being able to release Mirambo had almost
vanished.  And what if the man, by some lucky
stroke, were released?  Would he consent to
escape without his family?  There were five in
all: the larger the party, the more difficult to
evade pursuit.  "It's all utterly hopeless," thought
Tom.  "They will see it for themselves if I go
and talk to them on the spot."\par

He told the boys what he proposed to do, at
the same time warning them that no good would
come of it.  The promise overshadowed the
warning: the m'sungu would go; every other
good thing would follow.  Half vexed, half
amused by what seemed sheer unreason, Tom
bade them sleep: perhaps with morning they
would see facts as they were.\par

Before the glimmering dawn had penetrated
the nullah, when the four-footed creatures had
slunk to their dens and the birds were beginning
to stir, the three clambered down on the outside
of the zariba and started on their long tramp.
Tom wished to reach the plantation before
mid-day; he would then perhaps see for himself how
the German drilled his dusky recruits.\par

On arriving in the neighbourhood of the plantation,
Mwesa struck off to the left, and led the
way stealthily through dense bush where there
was no path, and none but himself could have
found the track of his own previous journeys.
They came presently to the stream that supplied
the plantation with water.  Climbing down the
steep moss-covered bank, they crept quietly along
the bed until they reached the thorn fence, which
formed an impenetrable barrier across the stream.
In the bank, just on the outside, Mwesa pulled
aside a curtain of rank grass, revealing a hole
scarcely larger than a drain pipe.  Mushota
crawled into it, Mwesa signed to Tom to follow
him: he himself entered last, having remained to
see that the grass fell naturally over the entrance
to this narrow tunnel.\par

The passage through the tunnel took less than
a minute, but Tom felt almost suffocated before
he reached open air again.  He said to himself
that it was like crawling in a grave.  Some day,
he thought, the earth will fall in; he wondered
that such a tunnel, made with no art, had not
collapsed long ago.  Its inner end opened into
the hollow trunk of a tree.  Climbing until his
eyes were on a level with a small hole scooped out
of the wood, he looked out upon the plantation.\par

The tree was a few feet within the thorn fence.
Some little distance to the left were the huts and
sheds occupied by the negroes.  In front of these
was the broad, clear, level space that was the
usual playground of the children and the
promenade of the elders when work was done.
Now, however, no children sported upon it.
Some sixty sturdy negroes, ranging in age from
sixteen to forty and upwards, were drawn up in
ranks.  At each end hovered an Arab overseer
with his whip.  And facing the recruits, some
yards away from them, stood the German sergeant,
a stiff, thick-set, bull-necked soldier, differing
from hundreds of his kind whom Tom had seen
in Germany only in his uniform, which, more
suited to the African climate, was less
complimentary to the sergeant's tight figure.  The
sergeant bellowed an order, in words that seemed
to be German acclimatised; the negroes hesitated,
then, each interpreting the command in his own
way, became a mob instead of a half company.
The German stamped and roared; the overseers
cracked their whips; and the scared recruits
scrambled back somehow into their original formation.\par

The sun beat fiercely down upon the scene,
and the perspiring sergeant, a martyr to duty,
drew a finger round the inside of his coat collar
and tried again.  Brandishing the light cane he
carried, he hurled abuse at the negroes in his
hybrid dialect, and having thus let off steam,
repeated his sharp words of command.  It was
evident that he was attempting to teach the
recruits how to form extended order from fours,
and Tom almost sympathised with him as the
men blundered in the simplest movements.  They
appeared to be unable to distinguish "right
turn" from "left turn"; and even those who
had once moved correctly seemed to be unable
to remember for five minutes what they had learnt.\par

"Mirambo no dis place, sah," whispered
Mwesa over his shoulder.\par

The words recalled the purpose of his visit.
Mirambo was no doubt tied up in the hut which
Reinecke used as a jail for refractory labourers.
It was at the further end of the row of huts, in
full view from every part of the parade ground.
An askari was standing at ease outside it.  Tom's
sense of the hopelessness of any attempt at
rescue was deepened.  Surely Mwesa himself
must realise it.  Sorry as he was, Tom felt that
there was nothing to be done.\par

A sudden commotion drew his attention once
more to the drilling.  The sergeant, incensed by
the repeated blunders of one particularly stupid
negro, had lifted his cane and dealt the man
several vicious cuts across the face.  Yelling
with pain and rage, the victim had sprung upon
the sergeant, hurled him to the ground, and
seized him by the throat.  Two of the overseers
had just rushed to the spot, and were dragging
the negro from the prostrate German.  There
was much chattering and excitement among the
other recruits and the negroes who were looking
on from the huts.\par

The sergeant rose stiffly to his feet, and with
apoplectic fury ordered the Arabs to tie the
culprit hand and foot.  As they were doing so,
Tom, who had been boiling with indignation at
the German's brutality, had one of those sudden
inspirations which are often turning-points in
a career.  Bidding the two lads follow him, he
clambered up to the fork of the tree, let himself
down to the ground on the rear side, and ran,
under cover of a line of bushes, until he was
some thirty yards nearer the body of recruits.
Then, stiffening himself, he emerged into the
open, rifle in hand, and advanced with quick
martial strides across the parade ground.  Until
that moment he had not been seen; the sergeant
and the Arabs had their backs towards him;
but the sudden silence that fell upon the negroes
as they beheld the young m'sungu, who had been
absent so long, followed by the two boys,
attracted the German's attention.  He swung
round to see what it was that all eyes were fixed
on so intently, and stared with amazement when,
from the lips of the tall young white man within
a few paces of him, came the sharp command
in German--\par

"Sergeant, release that man."\par

The instinct of military obedience on which
Tom had reckoned did not fail.  The sergeant
saluted; at a word from him the Arabs released
the negro from his bonds; the recruits broke
their ranks and rushed towards Tom with yells
of delight, and from the dwellings along one
side of the parade ground the whole negro
population, men, women and children, trooped
forth shouting welcome to the m'sungu, and
utterly regardless of the overseers.  The
sergeant's authority had vanished.  A few seconds
before he had had behind him the prestige of
German rule; in yielding to the command of an
Englishman (whom he did not yet know as
an Englishman) he had become a thing of naught
to these impressionable Africans.\par{}

\begin{figure}[h!tbp]
\label{figure-74}%
\hypertarget{figure-74}{}%
\label{tom-makes-a-diversion}%
\hypertarget{tom-makes-a-diversion}{}%
\noindent\hfill{}\begin{minipage}{0.610\textwidth}
{\hbox to \hsize{\hfill\includegraphics[width=1.000\textwidth,keepaspectratio=true]{images/img-106.jpg}\hfill}}
\vs{1}
{\noindent}
{\centerleft{{\itshape{TOM MAKES A DIVERSION.}}
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\end{minipage}
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\end{figure}

Before he had collected his muddled wits he
was surprised to hear that he was under arrest,
and found himself on his way with two of the
Arabs to the jail hut, under guard of two of
his own askaris.  Tom, wondering how long the
man's stupefaction would last, followed to the
hut, ordered Mirambo to be released, and the
door to be shut and bolted.\par

As he turned away, he saw one of the overseers
bolting across the parade ground in the direction
of the gate.\par

"After him, Mwesa," he cried, and the boy,
who had followed him like a shadow, instantly
darted after the runaway, accompanied by a troop
of his fellow negroes.  The Arab, whose whip
had formerly been a terror to them, was chased
across the plantation, and, just as he reached the
gate, was seized by a score of sinewy hands and
hauled back with yells of triumphant glee, to
join the other prisoners in the lock-up.  Tom,
with Mwesa as interpreter, ordered Mirambo to
collect all the men on the parade ground, and
there wait for him.  Then, astonished and a
little intimidated by his own success, he hurried
to the bungalow.  Reinecke was expected to
return that evening.  It was now past noon;
within the next five or six hours there must be
some hard thinking if this unexpected
development was to be turned to the best account.\par


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{\noindent}
CHAPTER VIII--REINECKE RETURNS}

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{\noindent}
At the bungalow the native servants
received Tom with smiles of welcome.  It
seemed that Reinecke had given out that his
guest had gone away only for a time; that the
war, a distant and unreal thing to them, could
have turned apparent friends into enemies was
as yet beyond their comprehension.  Quickly and
cheerfully they prepared a meal; and while Tom
enjoyed food that, after the experiences of the
past weeks, was incredible luxury, he bent all
his wits to the solution of the amazing problem
with which he was now faced.\par

Here he was, within a few minutes transformed
from a fugitive and a wanderer into the absolute
master of several hundreds of negroes.  His
lightest word would be law to them.  The simple
people were incapable of perceiving how
precarious was his authority; to them he was just the
m'sungu whom they admired and who had at a
stroke altered the conditions of their existence.\par

The sergeant and three of the Arabs were for
the present safely locked up.  The remaining
overseers, somewhere in hiding, could not leave
the plantation, the gate being locked, to give
warning to Reinecke on his homeward way of
what had occurred.  The askaris, always
submissive to authority, probably took the newcomer
for a German officer, and supposed the sergeant
to have been guilty of some fault.  And as for
the negroes, there were something over a hundred
able-bodied men who before long would have been
askaris in the German service--unwilling recruits,
but, in spite of their difficulties with drill, the
raw material of excellent soldiers.  That, at any
rate, must be prevented.\par

How?  Only by the immediate migration of
the whole community.  "A large order," thought
Tom, knitting his brows.  Yet not so difficult as
it first appeared.  These negroes had no possessions
that they valued except their cooking-pots.
Their natural life was the free open existence of
the forest and the plain; they could build
themselves huts in a day, and needed no furniture.
The implements of their plantation work would
be useful to them until they had made for
themselves bows and arrows.  A race of hunters, they
would not want for food; besides, there were the
plantation stores which could be conveyed away.\par

But in what direction could they go?  Bismarckburg
was only twenty miles distant; some
ten miles nearer was the road to Neu
Langenburg, no doubt studded with German military
posts, and patrolled.  As soon as the mutiny
became known, a force would be dispatched from
Bismarckburg, or a telegram sent along the road
warning any troops that might be moving up for
the projected attack on Abercorn.  Thus a
migration into British territory would be impossible.
The Wahehe country was far to the north, within
the German boundaries; there could be no safety
for them there.  For the moment the problem
seemed to be, to find a temporary refuge in some
spot difficult of access, where the people might
dwell in comparative security until the course of
events became clear.\par

What better place could there be than the
nullah he had lately left?  It was within easy
marching distance, yet far enough away, for while
only about fifteen miles from the plantation, it
was nearly twice that distance from Bismarckburg,
and in the heart of the forest.  Between its
steep banks a much larger body than these few
hundred people might take shelter.  It was near
water; the forest provided food to supplement
what might be removed from Reinecke's storehouses.
Within this natural fortress, strengthened
by such art as the negroes under guidance were
capable of, they might bid defiance to any but a
well-equipped force, which circumstances might
not allow the Germans to organise, and which
in any case it would take time to set on foot.
In the interval he might attempt to get into
communication with the British beyond the border.\par

After half an hour's cogitation Tom had made
up his mind.  To ward off suspicion among the
servants, he ordered them to hasten preparations
for the meal which Reinecke would expect on his
arrival, then hurried back to the negroes' quarters,
his brain busy with his plans.\par

It was fortunate that he had in Mwesa a quick
and efficient interpreter, and in Mirambo a
devoted henchman whose former rank in his own
country lent him authority with the rest of the
natives.  Through these two, uncle and nephew,
he made arrangements for the exodus with a
celerity that surprised himself.  And if his brother
Bob had been able to transport himself on a magic
carpet to this spot in Central Africa, that
hard-headed man of business would no doubt have
been amazed at the qualities shown in this
emergency by one whom, in his elder-brotherly
attitude, he was accustomed to call "the kid."  The
truth is, of course, that some people are
happily born with the gift of organisation, though
it may lie dormant, unsuspected, until occasion
rouses it.\par

Tom's first measure was to arrange for the
immediate evacuation of the women and children.
Led by Mushota, and escorted by a band of the
elder men, they were to leave the plantation and
push on as far as possible on the way to the
nullah while daylight lasted.  At nightfall they
would camp, and their escort would be at no
loss to protect them until the dawn.  Nor would
they go empty-handed.  Each woman, each child,
would carry such household gear as would be
useful, together with provisions for a meal or two.\par

While the women were merrily making their
preparations, Tom got the men together, and set
them to empty the store-sheds; to bring all the
foodstuffs into the open, and divide them up into
loads, under the direction of the men who were
accustomed to serve as porters to and fro between
Bismarckburg and the plantation.  In one of the
sheds, whose padlocked door he forced open, he
was delighted to find the Mauser rifles which had
recently been imported for the arming of the new
recruits, together with a stock of small-arm
ammunition.  He set Mwesa to discover which of
the men had had musketry instruction by the
German sergeant, and arranged that these should
have the rifles and a few rounds of cartridges
when the packing was finished; and he warned
them that if they fired without orders the rifles
would be taken away and they would have to
carry extra loads--a threat that was likely, he
thought, to prove effectual.  There were enough
rifles to arm also a few of the older men, like
Mirambo himself, who had had previous
experience of firearms; and though their experience
dated back a good many years, and the Mauser
was a very different weapon from the old trade
musket which they had formerly handled, he had
no doubt that with a little practice they would
soon outdo many of the recruits, whose instruction
could not yet have been carried very far.\par

The half-dozen askaris looked surprised when
they were ordered to lay down their arms and
assist in the baling of the food; but Tom's air of
assured authority imposed upon them, and they
appeared to have no suspicion that he was a
usurper until the women and children were ready
to march out.  It was not till then that Tom,
feeling in his pocket for the duplicate key of the
gate which Reinecke had given him, discovered
that he had lost it, probably in his fall into the
pit.  The only other keys were in the possession
of Reinecke and the principal overseer, and the
latter, arrested in his attempt to escape, was locked
in the prison-shed.  Tom went to the shed to get
this man's key, opened the door, and was amazed
to find the place empty.  All three Arabs and the
German sergeant were gone.  They had wrenched
away some of the poles that formed the rear wall
of the shed, and escaped unnoticed in the bustle
attending the preparations for departure.\par

This discovery gave Tom an unpleasant, even
an alarming shock.  The loss of the key was a
small matter; the gate could be forced; but if
the men were already well on the way to give the
alarm to Reinecke, as was only too likely, the
whole scheme of escape was in danger of being
utterly ruined.  Without an instant's delay Tom
hurried back, selected a dozen men whose build
promised fleetness of foot, armed them with hoes
and mattocks, and ran with them down to the
gate, intending to burst the lock with a rifle-shot.
He found, however, that the Arab, in his haste
to escape, had left the key in the lock.  The gate
was open.  Tom dispatched the natives along the
road to capture the runaways.  At this hour
Reinecke was probably within eight or nine miles
of the plantation, a distance which his bearers
would take at least four hours to cover; but if
the fugitives reached him, he would no doubt
spring from his machila and hurry forward on foot,
accompanied by his armed askaris.  It seemed,
then, that the evacuation of the place must be
completed within three hours at the most.\par

Luckily the women were ready, and Tom
ordered them at once to set off.  It was then
that the askaris became suspicious, and began to
put their heads together; but Tom stamped out
any spark of mutiny that might have been kindled
by separating the men, and assigning to them
places among the natives who were now preparing
to mount their loads.  Disarmed, with armed
men around them, the askaris dared not disobey;
and within a few minutes after the departure of
the women they were marching out among the
first contingent of the Wahehe, each bearing a
weighty bundle upon his head.  Mirambo had
selected the steadiest of his fellows to form this
first band, who were to follow the women, lay
down their loads at the proposed camping place,
and then return at once for more.  Meanwhile
the other three overseers had been rounded up,
bound, and placed under guard: there must be
no more fugitives.\par

While Mirambo was superintending the
packing of the remainder of the stores, Tom was
wrestling with another problem.  Reinecke would
arrive about sunset.  He would find the gate
locked as usual, and the silence of the plantation
would not awaken suspicion, for work hours were
over, and he would suppose the workers to have
returned to their distant quarters, out of earshot
from the central road and from the bungalow.
But as soon as he reached the bungalow the fat
would be in the fire.  He would expect the
principal overseer and the German sergeant to be
awaiting him, to give in their reports.  Not
finding them, he would send one of the servants to
fetch them.  In ten minutes, or little more, all
would be known.  What would he do?  Perhaps
lead his askaris in pursuit, perhaps dispatch a
runner to the nearest post on the Neu Langenburg
road to bring up reinforcements.  In either
case the flight of the people would be harassed;
they might be caught before they had reached
their defensive position.  Tom saw that to gain
time was of prime importance.\par

How could he gain time?  It would be
possible to ambush Reinecke and his party in the
woods close to the plantation.  Even if they had
been warned by the fugitive overseers and the
sergeant, they would probably not suspect that
the Englishman would attempt, with untrained
natives, to trap seasoned soldiers.  But an ambush
would involve the necessity of firing without
warning, and Tom was too raw at the game of
war to adopt so cold-blooded a course.\par

Another idea suggested itself which, hazardous
as it seemed, had a certain attractiveness that
commended it to Tom's sense of sport He
called up Mwesa.\par

"What does Reinecke do when he comes back
from Bismarckburg with askaris?" he asked.\par

"Him eat all too much," replied the boy.\par

"Yes, but I mean what does he do before that?
Where does he dismiss the askaris?"\par

"Dey all go to house, sah; stand outside; den
he make um say one, two, three; den dey go home."\par

Tom gathered that Reinecke was accustomed
to hold a sort of inspection parade before
dismissing the men to their shed several hundred
yards away.  From his own experience he knew
the method of procedure with the porters.  These
brought their loads to the bungalow; the goods
were checked off by Yakoub, the native clerk,
then carried to the store-sheds.\par

"Very good, Mwesa....  Here come my
scouts--without prisoners.  See what they say."\par

The twelve men he had sent in pursuit of the
runaways reported that they had run almost to
Bismarckburg--a typical native exaggeration at
which Tom smiled.  They had seen Reinecke
and his party coming slowly up the road: neither
the overseers nor the sergeant were with them.
Since the African has no measure either of time
or distance Tom could not discover exactly how
far away Reinecke was when the men saw him;
but on his asking when the party would arrive,
the spokesman pointed to the sun and then
stooped and moved his hand along just above
the ground.\par

"At sunset, as I thought," said Tom to himself.
"Then we have about two hours."\par

An hour later the second contingent of the
people left, well loaded up.  Tom locked the gate
behind them, then set forty men whom he had
retained to remove all litter and other traces of
the exodus from that portion of the road which
must be traversed in approaching the bungalow.
This done, he gave rifles and a round or two of
ammunition to twenty of the men, and ordered
the other twenty to arm themselves with
implements of their daily work.  It still wanted half
an hour of sunset.  Tom allowed the men twenty
minutes to make a good meal; then he divided
each band, posting ten riflemen and ten of the
others in the bushes near the gate, and the rest
under cover in the grounds of the bungalow,
where they commanded the open space in front
of the entrance.  This last disposition was made
very stealthily, in order to avoid attracting the
attention of the household servants, who,
however, were busy in their outbuildings at the
back, making final preparations for their master's dinner.\par

Having given his men their orders, Tom
entered the bungalow, clapped his hands for one of
the servants, asked him if dinner was ready, and
reminded him that Herr Reinecke always liked a
drink as soon as he returned home.\par

"Take it to the dining-room," he said, "and
one for me too."\par

He then went into the room Reinecke used as
an office, opened a drawer in which there was
usually kept a revolver, assured himself that it
was loaded, and taking it to the dining-room,
slipped it half underneath the edge of a wide fruit
dish.  The servant brought in two large tumblers
of a claret-cup of Reinecke's invention.  Tom
drank his off, then sat down and helped himself
to a confection of rice and fruit.  But now that
the critical moment was approaching he found
himself without appetite.  To steady his nerves he
lit a cigarette, and changed his position slightly,
so that he had a good view through the window
of the approach to the bungalow.\par

Tom was smoking his fourth cigarette, and the
brief twilight of Equatorial Africa was already half
spent, when he heard the tramp of marching men,
and saw the expected party filing into the grounds
of the bungalow.  First came two askaris, then
Reinecke and a native N.C.O., then a number of
porters with bales on their heads, finally a dozen
askaris.  Reinecke was in uniform--white helmet
and tunic, khaki breeches, and leggings.\par

The number of askaris was greater than Tom
had looked for.  He noticed that the hand that
held his cigarette was trembling a little, drew a
long breath, and waited.  The atmosphere seemed
to be highly electric.\par

Reinecke ordered the askaris to halt and ground
arms, the porters to lay down their loads.  Then
he called for Selim and Sergeant Morgenstein,
who ought to have been awaiting him, and cursed
them volubly in German.  He shouted a few
words in Bantu to the native corporal, and strode
into the bungalow.  He was evidently in a bad temper.\par

Turning into the dining-room he gasped and
started back.  Tom dropped his cigarette into
the ash-tray, laid his hand near the butt of the
revolver on the table, and, smiling grimly,
said--\par

"No.  I'm not a ghost, Herr Reinecke--nor a skeleton."\par

Reinecke, standing in the doorway, had quickly
recovered himself.\par

"So!" he laughed.  "But it is clear: you are a fool."\par

"I {\itshape{was}} a fool--to trust you," said Tom,
standing up.\par

"You {\itshape{are}} a fool--to come back here," said
Reinecke, with another laugh.  He advanced a
step into the room and laid his helmet on a chair.\par

"That's as may be.  You will consider
yourself my prisoner, Herr Reinecke."\par

The German stared, then with a derisive
guffaw, cried--\par

"Your prisoner?  Are you a madman as well
as a fool?  Ha! ha!--your prisoner!  We are
at war: yes, you realise it.  But {\itshape{your}} prisoner!
Why, you foolish child, don't you realise that
you are {\itshape{my}} prisoner?--that I can have you shot
as a spy?--that that is exactly what I shall do?"\par

"We seem to be talking at cross purposes."  Tom
grasped his revolver, and with a quick
movement pointed it at the German's head.
"Not a word," he added swiftly, as Reinecke,
after a moment's paralysing astonishment, was
turning towards the door, and at the same time
fumbling for the revolver slung across his
shoulder.  "Understand: if you call out, or
make a single suspicious movement--drop your
hands, sir--I shall fire, and if I fire it will be
a signal to my men who are waiting to settle
accounts with your askaris.  Take off your pistol
strap: lay it on the table: your left hand, please:
be careful not to touch the button."\par

Reinecke, taken all aback--what did the
Englishman mean by "my men"?--removed his
strap and laid it on the corner of the table Tom
pointed to.\par

"Now your sword-belt."\par

The German obeyed.\par

A servant came through the inner door carrying dishes.\par

"Not yet," said Tom: "we are not quite ready."\par

The servant smiled, started as he saw the
revolver in Tom's hand, then backed hurriedly.\par

"Remain in the kitchen till I call," added Tom.
"Now, Herr Reinecke, you will precede me--I
am not bluffing--to the place where my men are
hidden.  I don't wish to kill your askaris, but
any madness on your part will provoke a volley
from my men.  It will avoid trouble, then, if you
order yours to pile arms.  Remember this
revolver.  If you make a mistake in the word of
command it will be fatal to you as to them.
Lead on."\par

The German turned without a word.  Outside,
the askaris were standing at ease: Yakoub, the
native clerk, had just finished checking off the
porter's loads.  Reinecke ordered the askaris,
in a voice unlike his own, to pile arms and
reassemble two deep.  At Tom's bidding he told
Yakoub to go to his hut and remain there.  A
call from Tom brought Mwesa bounding from
behind a shrub.\par

"Get the men to collect these arms," said Tom.\par

The negroes came from their hiding place and
seized upon the askaris' rifles.  The amazed
porters, standing by their loads, broke out into
eager questioning, and the replies set them
shouting, laughing, leaping with glee.  The askaris,
equally astonished, looked in a puzzled way from
Reinecke to Tom, and made no resistance when
the Wahehe were ordered to tie their hands
behind their backs.  Reinecke, standing within a
yard of Tom, gnawed his moustache in impotent rage.\par

"Keep these men under guard," said Tom, and
Mwesa summoned forth the concealed riflemen.
"Now, Herr Reinecke, you shall have your
dinner.  Make the most of it.  It will be a long
time before you get such a meal again."\par


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{\noindent\interlinepenalty \@M\normalfont\Huge\bfseries%
{\noindent}
CHAPTER IX--A DELAYING ACTION}

\unskip\vskip 40pt\nobreak

{\noindent}
Damocles, at the sumptuous banquet of
Dionysius of Syracuse, no doubt ate with
a very good appetite, for Dionysius was his
friend, and the sword hanging over his head at
the end of a single hair was merely a playful
illustration of the insecurity of princes, and no
object of fear.  It may be supposed that the
Greek, sitting within reach of the weapon held by
a resolute hand, would have found the dishes
offered him savourless, or his throat perhaps too
dry for degustation.  Curt Reinecke, however,
was a German.  He flashed one evil look at the
tall, grim young man who sat, grasping a revolver,
across the corner of a table opposite; then he
bent his eyes upon his plate, and applied himself
with customary ardour to the appeasement of
nature's cravings.  The servant went to and fro,
silent, scared.\par

"Get ready to come with me, Mirami--you
and the rest," said Tom when the man had
brought coffee.  "Light all the lanterns you have."\par

Reinecke had not spoken during the meal,
complete {\itshape{ab ovo usque ad mala}}.  Now, however,
having gulped down his coffee, and the liqueur
which the admirable Mirami served as usual,
though with shaking hand, he cleared his throat
and hesitatingly put a question.\par

"Where are you--are we--going?"\par

"That you will see."\par

The German, primed to attempt a parley, sat
back in his chair, and said, in the manner of one
appealing to good sense:\par

"The frontier is closed.  It would be madness
to attempt to cross the Neu Langenburg road."\par

"You might be shot by your own countrymen,
you mean?"\par

"What I mean," rejoined Reinecke, generously
ignoring the insinuation, "is that you are playing
a fool's game.  You have the whip hand now;
you have, I suppose, raised a mutiny among my
people----"\par

"Our people, they used to be: they are mine now."\par

"Ach! what folly it is!" said Reinecke, with
a gesture of impatience.  "You are in German
country; within a few miles there are hundreds
of well-trained troops; are you mad enough to
think that these raw blacks, who hardly know one
end of a rifle from the other, can reach British
territory?  It is impossible--impossible."\par

"Well?"\par

"Then why attempt the impossible?  Look at
the matter reasonably, calmly."\par

"I don't think I am agitated, Herr Reinecke.
But go on."\par

"The position--what is it?  You British are
outnumbered.  You have no forces equal to ours,
even as they are; and I tell you we shall have
ten times as many in a few months.  Paris has
fallen: your empire is broken up: your navy is
defeated----"\par

"Come now, Herr Reinecke, don't draw the long bow."\par

"I assure you the news has gone all over the
world," said Reinecke emphatically.  "What can
you do?  We shall shortly capture Abercorn:
already we have taken Mombasa and Nairobi;
there will soon be no more British East Africa.
It is certain.  Well now, I make a proposition.
I wish to be fair.  The plantation is of course
confiscated; it will now be mine, solely.  That is
the fortune of war.  But you are young,
hot-headed.  I would do something for the sake of
my late partner.  Abandon this folly, then, while
there is time; and I give my word to send you
safe into British territory."\par

"And you make that proposition to me!" cried
Tom, enraged by the mention of his father:
"you, the man who has systematically robbed
your partner, falsified the books, tried to murder
me!  I should be a fool indeed if I placed reliance
on the word of a man like you.  Save your breath,
Herr Reinecke....  Ah! it is time for us to go."  Mwesa
had just appeared in the doorway.  "Get
up! don't try any tricks: I have given you fair
warning."\par

Mwesa had come to report the return of the
first contingent of Wahehe.  They had established
a camp some eight miles from the plantation.\par

"Very well," said Tom.  "Let them take up
as many of the remaining loads as they can carry.
I shall soon be with you."\par

He clapped his hands.  Mirami entered.\par

"Bring the lanterns, you and your fellows, and
meet me at the front door," said Tom.\par

Then, urging Reinecke before him at the
muzzle of his revolver (and the German seemed
to be genuinely astonished at the rejection of his
offer), Tom went out to his men.  The askaris
he ordered to join the ranks of the carriers,
each man with a load.  To the household servants
were given light articles, such as candles, matches,
paraffin, drugs.  Among the supplies just brought
from Bismarckburg were some cases of ammunition.
These were entrusted to their original
bearers.  By the time the party was ready to start,
the plantation had been pretty well ransacked of
all portable and useful stores.\par

Darkness having now fallen, the column was
headed by two men carrying lanterns.  In turn
came the porters, two more lantern bearers, the
three Arab overseers under guard of riflemen,
then Reinecke, followed immediately by Tom and
Mwesa, and finally two lantern bearers.  Apart
from their use in lighting the way, the lanterns
gave confidence to the natives, for whom a night
march had nameless terrors.\par

So strange a procession, at dead of night--the
lights flickering on the trees, the negroes
chattering in loud tones to keep their courage
up--must have startled the furred and feathered
inhabitants of the forest.  Birds clattered out of
the foliage, insects swarmed around the lanterns;
no four-footed beast came within sight.\par

It was about midnight when they arrived at the
camp, pitched on one of those wide bare spaces
which break the continuity of the upland forest.
Fires had been kindled at several points of the
circuit.  Within was a scene of great
confusion--women, children, and bales of goods lying
helter-skelter.  Hopeless of evolving order at this hour,
Tom contented himself with posting three
sections of six men each as sentries on the southern
border of the camp, where alone danger might
be feared.  An attack seemed to him
improbable.  The plantation had been cleared of men;
and even if the fugitive Germans and Arabs had
succeeded in reaching a German post, there was
little chance of an armed force coming up while
night lasted.  Nevertheless, the sense of
responsibility and the need of keeping a close watch on
Reinecke, whom, out of respect for the white
man's dignity, he had left unbound, prevented
Tom from getting any sleep.  Indeed, few of all
those there encamped, except the children, closed
their eyes.  The negroes, for all their weariness,
talked excitedly, hour after hour, of the
wonderful change that the m'sungu had wrought in
their lives, and speculated on the fate in store
for their late master.  Watching them, Tom
could not help questioning within himself whether
he had done right, whether they would be able
to defend and maintain their new-won freedom;
but with the hopefulness of buoyant youth he
dismissed his doubts, resolving that, so far as lay
in him, nothing should be left undone to
safeguard them.  After all, British territory was only
forty miles away.\par

An hour before dawn the camp was astir.
Everybody was fed: then, just as light was
stealing over the scene, the women and children were
sent off under escort, scouting parties dispatched
southward; the unarmed men gathered their
loads and departed.  Mirambo and a score of
the elder men with rifles accompanied the latter,
with orders not to allow the askaris to approach
within half an hour's march of the nullah.  They
were to drop their loads at a convenient spot and
return under guard for more.  Tom remained at
the camp, keeping the prisoners and the remainder
of his armed men.\par

It was about two hours after the departure of
the women: the carriers had not yet come back:
when Tom heard a faint sharp sound from southward,
which, unexpected as it was, he believed to
be a rifle-shot.  For some few minutes there was
no repetition of the sound: then there came half
a dozen cracks in succession, a little
nearer--unmistakably the reports of rifles.  Tom at once
dispatched two men to follow in the track of the
scouts and see what was happening.  It seemed
unlikely that a German force had already been
dispatched in pursuit of him; but it was clearly
necessary to be prepared for any contingency.\par

The shots had roused some excitement among
the Wahehe; Reinecke and the Arabs did not
disguise the spring of hope.  Tom recognised
that his men were ill-fitted to cope with trained
troops, in the open or even in the bush.  The
nullah, on the other hand, about six miles away,
offered many facilities for defence, and his plan
had been to post his non-combatants far up
towards the lake, and to employ the men to
strengthen the position below.  He had reckoned
on being unmolested for a whole day, and the
shots gave him not a little uneasiness.  The
progress of the laden carriers would necessarily
be slow: it was essential that the enemy, if
enemy it was, should be delayed at least until
the stores had been safely conveyed to the nullah.
He must fight and run.\par

Hoping that it might turn out to be a false
alarm, he nevertheless sent forward a runner to
urge the carriers to their utmost speed; then
selected a score of the older men, who in their
day had fought the Germans, and ordered all the
rest to hurry on with as much as they could carry
of the remaining stores.  Mwesa he kept as
interpreter.\par

As soon as the camping-place was clear, he
sent Reinecke and the Arabs on, guarded by half
a dozen men, and followed closely behind them
with the rest of his party, to discover a suitable
position for making a first stand if pursuers were
really on his tracks.  He had been marching less
than half an hour through the forest when some
of his scouts overtook him, and reported that a
large force of askaris, under German officers, was
pushing on at great speed.  Knowing the
hopelessness of getting from the natives a sound
estimate of the enemy's numbers, he asked no
questions, but pressed forward as rapidly as
possible for another ten minutes.  Then, on the
further side of a comparatively clear space, about
two hundred yards long and twice as wide, he
saw a dense belt of trees, fringed by low bushes,
which seemed to offer advantages for a delaying
action.  There he decided to await the enemy's
arrival.\par

He looked at his watch.  Allowing for the
slow pace of the children and the laden men over
difficult country, he calculated that the head of the
straggling column had probably covered two-thirds
of the distance to the nullah.  It would be at least
another hour before they reached its entrance, and
a second hour before the people and the stores
were far enough up to be out of harm's way.  The
question was, then, could he check the pursuit for
two hours?\par

By the time he had posted his men just within
the belt of trees, where they commanded the
whole space in front, he had been rejoined by all
his scouts.  The report of the last comers was
even more alarming than that of the first.  According
to them, a great throng of ferocious askaris,
like a swarm of wild bees, was dashing on with
the speed of antelopes.  Though he was aware
of their habit of exaggeration, Tom was conscious
of a consuming anxiety, but had self-command
enough to present a calm and smiling front to the
natives, in whom the least sign of wavering on his
part would have started a panic.  Through Mwesa
he gave them the order not to fire until he whistled,
resolving at the same time to cut himself a wooden
whistle at the first opportunity.\par

The men had been posted barely twenty
minutes when, through the thinner woodland on
the opposite side of the clearing, Tom caught
sight of a few scattered negroes in uniform.
"Scouts feeling their way forward," he thought.
The askaris moved rapidly, but cautiously, flitting
from tree to tree in a series of short rushes.
Marking one of them, Tom fired.  The man
instantly slipped behind a trunk; his fellows had
all disappeared.\par

Analysing later his frame of mind at the
moment of firing, Tom had to admit that his
aim had been intentionally bad, and justified his
action with the excuse that his object was merely
to delay the enemy.  At bottom, however, he
was really loth to kill his man--a feeling which
has, no doubt, seized many a young officer in his
first fight.  In after days he often debated with
himself and discussed with others how far humanity
is compatible with war, and the conclusion that
he came to was that war must be abolished, or
humanity would perish.  If man must kill man,
whether the agent be bullet, shell, bomb, poison
gas, or any other abomination, logically there is
nothing to choose between them: the vile thing
is war itself.  But at this moment he had no time
for reflection: he acted purely from a humane
instinct, not realising what war meant, ignorant of
the methods in which the enemy was prepared to wage it.\par

His ill-aimed shot had not been without effect.
The enemy had vanished, and Tom's men, in
their simplicity, whooped with delight.  Tom
however, was under no delusion.  One or more
of the askaris had no doubt stolen back through
the wood to report that they were in touch with
the fugitives; the rest were still lurking among
the trees.\par

As the minutes passed without further movement,
Tom's anxiety increased in proportion with
the natives' elation.  What numbers had he to
deal with?  Would his little force of untrained
men be swept upon and overwhelmed?  He
would have been spared a period of racking
suspense if he could have divined the facts which
he was not to know till much later.  Sergeant
Morgenstein and the Arabs, having escaped from
the plantation, did not take the twenty-mile road
to Bismarckburg, but struck southward to the
highway to Neu Langenburg, a distance only
half as great.  On this road they met a half
company of askaris marching towards Bismarckburg.
The German officer in command, on learning
what had happened at the plantation, tapped
the telegraph wire and asked for instructions.
Ordered to make a forced march and deal with
the mutiny--what resistance was to be expected
from a mob of undisciplined blacks?--he pushed
on to the plantation, only to find it deserted.
Darkness forbade instant pursuit; but at the
earliest glimmer of dawn he started to follow up
the very plain tracks of the absconded rebels.\par

It was perhaps twenty minutes after the
disappearance of the enemy scouts when Mwesa
detected a movement deep in the thin woodland
opposite.  Tom fixed his eyes intently on the
spot the boy pointed out, and presently saw several
forms moving forward amid the brushwood.
There were signs that others were coming up
behind them.  They were scarcely distinguishable
in the shade of the trees, and darted so quickly
from cover to cover that even a crack shot could
hardly have picked them off.\par

Tom felt that an attempt to check the advance
while the enemy were still in the wood would be
sheer waste of ammunition.  The most of his
men had not handled fire-arms for years; they
had probably lost whatever skill they might once
have had; the younger men had only begun their
musketry course.  He must at least wait for the
inevitable rush across the open; then, perhaps,
the negroes, unskilled though they were, might
be lucky with some of their shots.  If the enemy
were in no great strength, the mere show of
resistance might achieve his end--delay.\par

The askaris, finding their advance unopposed,
gained confidence, were less careful in taking
cover, and presently formed up in line just within
the forest fringe.  Suddenly a white helmet
showed itself above them, a little in their rear; a
word of command rang out, and the askaris,
twenty strong, charged with a wild yell in double
line across the open.  Tom gave a shrill whistle,
marked his man and fired.  His shot was followed
by a ragged volley from his men.  This time his
aim was true; one or two askaris fell to the
shots of the negroes; the rest wavered, and at a
second volley scurried back into the forest, losing
another on the way.\par

Tom had not fired a second time, but had
watched the forest.  It was plain from movements
he observed there that the German had held part
of his force in reserve.  The slight losses suffered
in feeling for the opposition had probably
reassured him as to the character of the resistance he
had to meet; the next attack would be made in
strength.\par

Ignorant of the numbers opposed to him, Tom
thought it prudent not to await a second attack,
and gave his men the order to retire quietly.  They
marched on for about half a mile, and then came
to a rocky ridge flanking the track, which it
commanded for a considerable distance.  Here Tom
determined to make a second stand.\par

It was nearly half an hour after he had posted
his men before there was any sign from the enemy.
Then he heard in the distance the sharp crackle of
a volley, followed by shouts.  He guessed that
the askaris were charging across the open space
under cover of strong rifle fire.  Abruptly the
sounds ceased, and Tom could not help chuckling
as he saw in his mind's eye the blank faces of the
askaris when they found their entrance into the
forest unopposed.\par

But he remembered that he had a German
officer to deal with.  A trained soldier would be
put on the alert by the disappearance of his enemy.
He would probably suspect that he was being
lured into a trap, and Tom desired nothing better.
The German would feel his way forward
cautiously, slowly, fearing an ambush in every gloomy
spot.  He might take an hour to cover the
distance of a few minutes' walk.\par

Tom seized the opportunity of making good
his retreat to the nullah.  Putting on their best
speed, the little party overtook the tail end of the
column of carriers at the spot where the askaris
had been ordered to drop their loads.  Now that
he was himself able to keep an eye on them, Tom
made them mount their bales again, and march
on towards the nullah.  He left two good men to
watch for the enemy, and followed with the rest.\par

Tom with his rearguard of riflemen had come
within half a mile of the nullah when Mushota
came bounding along the column towards him,
jostling any carrier who was in his way.  The lad
spoke excitedly to Mwesa, who turned a
crestfallen face to his master and said--\par

"He gone; all same run away."\par

"Who?"\par

"Old massa, sah."\par

"Reinecke?"\par

"Yes, sah.  He grab rifle quick, fella no can
do nuffin.  He shoot one man, den go bang into
forest, no can catch him.  He gone sure nuff."\par

Tom's manner of receiving the news was a
surprise to the negroes.  Far from being agitated,
storming, threatening punishment for the unwary
guards, he smiled.  Reinecke's escape was in a
certain degree a relief to him.  It had been
necessary to remove the German from the plantation;
but after the people had reached the nullah he
would have been an incubus.\par

"Good riddance," thought Tom.  "I hope I
have seen the last of him."\par


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{\noindent}
CHAPTER X--A BREATHING SPACE}

\unskip\vskip 40pt\nobreak

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

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

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

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

"Haroun say want speak, sah."\par

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom looked at them squarely.\par

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

The man asked if they were to fight.\par

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

Would they have to drill?\par

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

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

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

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

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


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{\noindent}
CHAPTER XI--TOM'S NEW ALLIES}

\unskip\vskip 40pt\nobreak

{\noindent}
The more Tom thought over the
probabilities of the case, the less likely it
appeared to him that the Germans, if engaged
in serious operations on the frontier, would spare
a force for dealing immediately with mutineers
who might be rounded up at leisure.  At the
same time the situation was so uncertain that he
could not afford to neglect the opportunity of
preparing for a possible attack.  It was equally
important that he should get timely notice of the
enemy's approach, and that could be secured
only by starting an efficient system of scouting.
As soon as he had dealt with the askaris,
therefore, he got Mirambo to choose a dozen active
and trustworthy young men, and arranged that
they should go out in parties of six on alternate
days, to reconnoitre as much ground south of the
nullah as they could cover between dawn and
dark.  He could not yet entrust them with rifles
uncontrolled: they had no other arms than the
agricultural implements; but while the first six
were absent, the second could fashion wooden
spears which would suffice for protection against
wild animals.  There were no villages in the
immediate neighbourhood of the nullah, or
between that and the plantation, so that collisions
with hostile tribes were scarcely to be feared.\par

Tom then passed to the consideration of the
problem of the camp.  Accompanied by Mirambo
and Mwesa he explored the whole length or the
nullah between the bend and the lake, a distance
of perhaps half a mile.  The width varied a good
deal; the sides were almost perpendicular; and
the stream, being the outflow from an upland
lake, descended in a series of cascades.  At
present there was little volume of water; but
in a couple of months, with the opening of the
rainy season, the level of the lake would rise,
and what was now a trickling rivulet might
become a raging torrent.  Tom hoped that by
that time his occupation of the nullah would be
at an end.  Preparing for the worst, however,
he came to the conclusion that the ground on
either side of the stream would be an insecure
camping-place, and decided to plant his temporary
village around the spot where he and Mwesa had
found a refuge a few days before.  It was in the
heart of a wood, where the nullah broadened out
to more than three times its average width, and
was defended on the northern side by the lake.
The building of huts would take a considerable
time, because the wood must be cleared of beasts,
and the able-bodied men must be employed in
completing the defences lower down the nullah;
but certain parts of the work could be done by
the younger women and the elder children.\par

While some of the people were engaged in
preparing this {\itshape{ex tempore}} village, Tom set others
to strengthen the barricade across the nullah.
As he watched them, it occurred to him that the
position would gain in security if he used the
stream to form a moat, and he at once started two
gangs digging at the extreme ends of the breastwork,
a foot or two in front of it.  At the close
of the next day the moat was finished--a ditch six
feet broad by four deep, extending right across
the nullah except where the stream flowed in the
centre.  A man might easily leap over it, but his
leap would land him amid the branches of the
trees.  It would be useful in checking a rush,
especially if it were unnoticed until the enemy
were actually upon it; and when, on its farther
side, a number of low bushes and clumps of long
grass had been planted, Tom found by experiment
that the water was not seen until he came
within half a dozen yards of it.\par

The defences of the slopes right and left then
engaged Tom's attention.  There were not enough
trees on the spot to form effective barricades, and
the only means of checking the enemy if they
scaled the low heights was to dig trenches.  The
labour would be long and toilsome, for the ground
must first be cleared of the brushwood; but in no
other way could the enemy be prevented from
swarming down into the nullah.  At the end of
a week the western and eastern slopes, for about
thirty yards from the end of the nullah, were each
scored with a deep trench, fortified with a parapet
constructed of the earth that had been removed.\par

A second line of defence might be necessary,
and for this there was no better position than the
bend of the nullah, nearly half a mile to the north.
The sides being here steep, almost perpendicular,
it was impossible to haul trees from the forest
above for a breastwork like that at the entrance;
so Tom had the bed of the nullah cleared of cover
for a space of about two hundred yards, and a
trench with a strong parapet carried from side to side.\par

The work was still unfinished when one day the
scouts, for the first time, reported that they had
sighted the enemy.  About ten miles away they
had seen a band of young natives marching
towards Bismarckburg in charge of a German
officer and a small party of askaris.  It seemed
clear that these negroes were recruits for the
German forces, and Tom, relying on the scouts'
statement that the askaris were few in number,
decided to make an attempt to prevent the natives
from being turned into what Captain Goltermann
had called "black Germans."\par

The party, when sighted, was marching very
slowly, following a native path that wound through
dense bush, and crossed the track between the
plantation and the nullah.  Tom calculated that
if he started at once he would arrive at a
position where he might ambush the enemy just
before they reached the road to Bismarckburg.
With his untrained men he could not risk a
stand-up fight; but he hoped that the advantage
of surprise, if the patrol was really so small as the
scouts declared, would enable him to achieve his
end without fighting.\par

Selecting twenty of the men who had been with
him in his little action in the forest, he led them
out, with Mwesa, and followed rapidly on the
heels of the scouts.  In about an hour and a half
they came to the spot he had fixed on, and while
he posted the men in the bush on both sides of
the track, he sent the scouts to worm their way
eastward and watch for the enemy.  The interval
before they returned was long enough for the men
and himself to regain breath.  It was perhaps
half an hour later when they came quietly through
the brushwood with news that the enemy were in sight.\par

At the place where Tom had posted himself the
track ran fairly straight for more than a hundred
yards, and he was able to take stock of the party
with which he had to deal while it was still distant.
First came two unarmed natives, evidently guides;
then a German non-commissioned officer; behind
him two German privates, followed by a string
of negroes.  The tail of the party was out of sight.\par

Seeing how few were the armed men at the
head of the column, Tom instantly resolved on
a bold course.  His own men were concealed
among the bushes; they had their orders.  He
stepped out on to the track, accompanied only
by Mwesa, just before the negro guides reached
him.  They halted in surprise, and looked round
towards the German thirty yards behind.\par

"Tell them to come on, Mwesa," said Tom.\par

The boy called to them, and they at once
hastened on.  Tom spoke to them in German,
but they evidently did not understand him.
Meanwhile the German sergeant had quickened
his step, and hearing German on the lips of the
stranger, he approached unsuspiciously, halted,
clicked his heels together, and waited, as a
well-trained subordinate will, for his superior to
address him.\par

"Halt your men, Sergeant," said Tom.\par

The sergeant started.  Quicker-witted than the
sergeant whom Tom had so easily disposed of
at the plantation, he detected a foreign accent in
the stranger's speech.  Tom gave him no time
to consider.\par

"Your life depends on your keeping cool,"
he went on quickly.  "Don't make a sound.
Keep your arms still and face me.  The bush
on both sides is lined with troops who will fire at
the slightest hostile movement.  Halt your men."\par

The sergeant hesitated for the fraction of a
second, then called to the privates a few yards
away to pass word along the column.\par

"They are halted," he said; "but there is
something I don't understand here."  He looked
incredulously around him.  "I don't know who
you are, but if you are bluffing----"\par

"Let me convince you."\par

Tom parted a clump of thick bush on one
side of the track, disclosing a negro kneeling,
with his rifle pointed straight at the German.
In a bush on the other side, nearly opposite, he
showed another man.  Moving half-a-dozen paces
down the track he revealed yet another man,
finger on trigger, to the astonished sergeant.\par

"Your position is quite hopeless, you see," Tom
went on.  "You had better surrender quietly.
Give me your revolver."\par

The German threw a glance over his shoulder
at the privates, standing at the head of the
column of negroes.\par

"At once!  Don't hesitate!" said Tom.
"Your men will be shot down if they attempt
resistance.  Your revolver."\par

The man handed over the weapon sullenly.\par

"Now tell those men of yours to come forward
one at a time and lay their rifles down on the
track in front of me.  Don't say another word."\par

The sergeant gave the order.  The men, with
a look of mingled curiosity and wonderment,
advanced, laid down their rifles, and at Tom's
command walked a few yards along the track,
then halted.\par

"Mwesa, go and tell those natives to come
past me, slowly, and then turn into the bush
and wait.  Tell them nothing else....  You
have men at the rear?" he added to the sergeant.\par

"Yes."\par

"Who are they?"\par

"Askaris."\par

"How many?"\par

"Twenty."\par

"Then when they come up behind the negroes
you will give them the same order as you gave
your Germans.  Stand here by me."\par

The negroes, all strong young men, defiled past
Tom in silence, their eyes wide with anxiety and
dread.  He counted sixty.  In their rear came
the twenty askaris.  One by one they laid down
their rifles and passed on, looking with surprise at
their officer's glowering face.\par

"That is all?" asked Tom.\par

"All."\par

"Then we will go.  Give me your whistle."\par

The sergeant unslung the whistle from his
shoulder.  Tom blew a shrill note, and his men
started out of the bush and lined up on the track.
The German cursed when he saw that they were
less in number than his own men; Tom felt that
he would have writhed had he known that none
of them was trained.  At the present moment
he was lost in wonderment at the fact of a young
white man, in German territory but clearly not
a German, having at his command negroes who
were just as clearly not German askaris, but
possessed German rifles.\par

The order of the march home was quickly
arranged.  Half Tom's men went ahead, carrying
the captured rifles.  They were followed by the
liberated natives, who, imagining that they had
only exchanged one servitude for another,
trudged on in gloomy silence.  Tom's motive
in not dismissing them at once was to link them
to the British cause by means of the impression
which he hoped they would gain from his
defensive measures at the nullah, and he knew that
they would break away the moment they realised
that they were free.  Behind them marched the
askaris, then five more of his riflemen escorting
the German privates.  He kept the sergeant by
his side, and the rear was brought up by Mwesa
and the rest of his men.\par

The capture of a German prisoner gave Tom
an opportunity of learning something of the
course of events on the frontier.  He considered
how best to open up the subject with the sergeant,
and decided that perfect frankness would probably
serve him best.\par

"You are naturally surprised, Sergeant," he
said, "at finding an Englishman on your side of
the border."\par

"An Englishman!" growled the sergeant.  "I
thought you were a Belgian."\par

"Indeed!  Are you at war with Belgium too?"\par

"There is no Belgium.  It belongs now to the Kaiser."\par

"Dear me!  I understand that Paris has
fallen: you have therefore France and Britain
against you; but Belgium--did she break her
neutrality?\par

"I don't know anything about that; but I do
know that Belgium and half France are now in
our hands; your Navy is defeated; and London
will soon be at our mercy."\par

"You make me tremble!  And what about Abercorn?"\par

The sergeant blinked.\par

"London is rather far away," Tom went on.
"I am much more deeply interested at present
in places nearer at hand.  You were going
to attack Abercorn, I understood.  No doubt
you took it as easily as your troops took Paris."\par

The German's frown relieved Tom of his
anxiety.  Smiling, he continued:\par

"Come now, Sergeant, you may as well tell the
truth, you know.  You have nothing to lose by
it.  You found Abercorn a harder nut than you
expected, eh?"\par

"You seem to know a lot," said the German
gloomily.  "Did you come across from Rhodesia?"\par

"No: I came from Kigoma on the {\itshape{Hedwig von Wissmann}}."\par

"Ach!"\par

"What is the matter?"\par

"There are always misfortunes; we can't win
everything."\par

"You don't mean to say----"\par

"I mean to say that the other Wissmann boat,
the {\itshape{Hermann von Wissmann}}, allowed itself to be
surprised at Sphinxhaven on Nyassa."\par

"And was captured?  Really we must take
that as a set-off against your defeat of our
Navy--in the North Sea, I suppose.  But to come back
to Abercorn."\par

"You know as well as I do that we were beaten
off.  The English were four to one: what else
could be expected?"\par

"I see!  That explains why you have been
ranging the country for recruits.  But I understood
that your forces in East Africa hopelessly
outnumbered the British."\par

"So they do, but not everywhere.  In the
north we have cut the Uganda Railway, captured
Mombasa and Nairobi, and are sweeping the
English into the sea."\par

"Well, they'll be quite at home there!  It's
our native element, you know.  These successes
must console you for your failure at Abercorn:
they'll lighten your captivity, Sergeant."\par

"That is true," said the German, blind to
irony.  "And I shall not be your prisoner long."\par

"I hope not, I'm sure."\par

"It was a trick.  You would never have beaten
me in fair fight; and the English, when they win
at all, only win by trickery.  Everybody knows that."\par

"Trickery, and superior numbers, as at Abercorn!
Don't you think the Kaiser had better
throw up the sponge, then?  It would save trouble."\par

The sergeant was so much horrified by the
suggestion that he launched out into a violent
denunciation of England and all things English,
and painted a dismal picture of the dismembered
British Empire.  Tom let him run on: he had
heard something like it in Germany, and had
taken it then, as he took it now, as the raving of
impotent envy.  He would probably have listened
to the German with less serenity had he known
to what lengths the pitiless logic of militarism had
carried the Kaiser's helots on the stricken fields
of Europe.\par

They were welcomed at the nullah with shouts
of joy by the people, who had thronged behind
the barricade and on the slopes.  Astonishment
sat on the faces of the Germans when they were
admitted by the single gateway and marched up
the nullah, past the trench, to the village growing
by the lake.\par

"You keep us here, with niggers?" said the sergeant.\par

"Yes: until I have the pleasure of escorting
you to Abercorn," replied Tom.  "You are
white men: I don't want to have to tie you up:
but I shall do so unless you give me your word
not to attempt to escape."\par

To avoid the ignominy of being kept in bonds
the Germans gave their parole readily enough.
Tom arranged with Moses for their rations, then
returned to the rescued negroes whom he had
left under guard lower down.  They, meanwhile,
had been regaled with stories, freely embroidered,
of what the m'sungu had done, and when he
appeared among them their downcast expression
had been replaced by looks of hope.  He learnt
from Mwesa that they had been collected from
several villages to the eastward, near Lake Rukwa,
some fifteen miles away.  Mwesa brought to him
a young negro whom he introduced as the son
of M'setu, the chief of the largest of these villages.\par

"Tell them they can all go home," said Tom.
"This young man may take his father a message
from me.  The Germans will no doubt raid the
villages again for men.  It is not likely I shall
be able to help them a second time.  M'setu,
then, had better march away with all his people
into British territory and remain there until the
war is over."\par

The negroes laughed, leapt, embraced one
another when they heard that they were free.
Without delay they poured out through the gate
and flocked away towards the east.  Not even
the chief's son stayed to thank their rescuer.
But the incident had a strange sequel two days
afterwards.  About midday one of the scouts
came running back to report that a large body
of spearmen, led by a great chief, was marching
through the forest in the direction of the nullah.
They were not on a warlike expedition, for behind
the chief three men led each a goat, which could
only be intended as peace-offerings.\par

"Go and see who they are, Mwesa," said
Tom.  "They are not to come across the clearing
until I know what they want."\par

Presently Mwesa returned, smiling with even
more enjoyment than usual.\par

"Him M'setu, sah," he said: "come for talk with sah."\par

"Very well.  Bring him along; he can come
in with six of his men: the rest remain outside."\par

Mwesa ran back into the forest, and soon
reappeared at the side of a powerful negro of
middle age.  A throng of negroes about a
hundred strong followed him to the edge of the
clearing.  There at his order they squatted in
a long line, and the chief himself, accompanied
by his son and five other men--three of whom
led milk-white goats bleating dolefully--marched
at Mwesa's heels towards the gate, where Tom
stood waiting.\par

"Him M'setu, sah," said Mwesa, by way of introduction.\par

Tom at once stepped forward and grasped the
chief by the hand, an act which brought a smile
of pleasure to the face of his six companions
and a shout from the men watching intently two
hundred yards away.\par

M'setu began to speak.  After one sentence
he paused, looking to Mwesa to interpret.\par

"Him say sah him fader and mudder," said Mwesa.\par

Tom acknowledged the compliment with a smile.\par

The chief began again, inquiring after Tom's
health, the health of his father, mother, wife,
children, cattle, and so on, until Tom felt rather
overwhelmed by his politeness.  By and by he
came to business.\par

"Him say berry glad sah him good send
back men all same.  Him say bring goats for sah
him pot, berry nice goats.  Him say come alonga
sah: what for? sah kill all dem Wadaki, so
M'setu him came alonga sah kill Wadaki all same."\par

"You mean that I am to kill all the Germans,
and he will come and help?"\par

"Dat just what M'setu say," said Mwesa,
delighted that his master had understood him so well.\par

"Well, you must tell him that that's not my
job.  I couldn't rid the country of Germans if I
tried, but the British will come across the border
by and by and eat them all up.  Tell him that."\par

M'setu's response was very long-winded.  The
gist of it was that he expected another recruiting
visit from the Germans.  He had heard that they
had been thrown back across the border by the
British, and was therefore not inclined to go to
the trouble of removing all his people from their
villages, but would rather stay and defend
himself, with the assistance of the m'sungu, who had
already rescued his young men.\par

Tom was a good deal perplexed how to deal
with this ingenuous offer of an alliance.  M'setu's
warriors, armed only with spears, would be wiped
out by a single machine-gun, and Tom could do
nothing to help them: outside his nullah he
would be as much at the Germans' mercy as they.
On the other hand, the chief's men, familiar with
a wider stretch of country than the Wahehe from
the plantation, could do inestimable service as
scouts, and might give him early warning of
movements of which otherwise he would be
unaware.  Through Mwesa he explained as
clearly as he could the difficulties of the situation,
and in the upshot made an arrangement with
M'setu by which the chief guaranteed to provide
a company of skilled scouts, and Tom in his turn
promised to lend assistance to M'setu if he was
threatened, and in the last resort to give his
people shelter in the nullah.\par

M'setu departed, well satisfied with the result
of his interview.\par

"What time sah eat goats?" asked Mwesa.\par

"Eat them!  I'm not going to eat them,"
said Tom.  "Take them up to Moses and tell
him to look after them.  We'll have some milk
by and by."\par


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{\noindent}
CHAPTER XII--THE DESERTER}

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{\noindent}
"Come now, Reinecke, you have been away
two months or so.  What is the truth
of things?  We are fed here with what I am
convinced are false, or at any rate too rosy, reports.
Coming from the centre you ought to be well
informed, and I want to know exactly how
matters stand."\par

Major von Rudenheim bent forward and fixed
his hard blue eyes on Reinecke.  They were sitting
in the major's quarters.  Reinecke had just
returned from a mission which had carried him right
across the country, and after delivering dispatches
at headquarters had lost no time in visiting his
friend the major.\par

"What is the truth?" said Reinecke, flicking
the ash from his cigar irritably.  "Who knows?
They said that Paris would fall before the British
Army got across the Channel; now it is said that
Paris has not fallen, though the British Army has
been annihilated."\par

"And the Fleet?"\par

"The British are skulking in their harbours and
won't fight.  We have bombarded most of their
commercial ports out of existence, but they had
been laying in such enormous stocks of food in
anticipation of the war that it will take a year or so
to starve them out.  So it's said."\par

"But surely if the ships won't fight we
command the sea and can bring them to terms.  It
ought to be over by Christmas."\par

"Yes, the Kaiser is to eat his Christmas dinner
in London.  But the fact is, Major, we're living
on rumours.  The British smashed up our
wireless installation at Dar-es-Salam, and we haven't
had any really authentic news from Germany since
a fortnight after war broke out.  As for this
country, we are not doing so well as we ought to
have done.  We've taken some places inside their
frontier, but they've put up a surprisingly good
defence, and at present it's stalemate.  Apparently
they are bringing troops from India----"\par

"In spite of our Fleet?"\par

"Yes, in spite of our Fleet.  Tirpitz deserves
to be cashiered."\par

"But, my good friend, if they can get
reinforcements and we can't, where are we?  And
then, I thought the English had to send troops
to India to put down the rebellion there.  Isn't
that true?"\par

"I don't know what's true.  I'm sick of the
whole thing.  Here's my plantation going to rack
and ruin: that wretched young cub of an Englishman
having the audacity to run off with my
workers; and when I ought to be bringing him
to book I'm packed off to Tabora.  Heaven
knows what has happened in my absence."\par

"I know a little, too.  Your young cub is
a pretty lively one, and has pretty good claws.
A few days after we were beaten back at
Abercorn----"\par

"That's true, then.  I didn't believe it."\par

"What could be expected when all our best
troops are in the north?  We were outnumbered."\par

If Major von Rudenheim believed what he
said, he must have been singularly ill-informed.
On September 5, when the Germans attacked the
little town of Abercorn, its defenders were forty
members of the native police, its commandant the
postmaster.  There happened to be a machine-gun
at hand, and this was so well manipulated by
the postmaster, Mr. Bisset (who might have been
expected to be more at home with the telegraph
instrument) that the tiny garrison was able to hold
off the enemy, four times its strength, until
reinforcements of Rhodesian planters arrived.
Mr. Bisset's name deserves to be recorded on the
illustrious roll of civilians turned soldiers who
have at critical moments helped to make and to
save the British Empire.\par

"As I was saying," the major went on, "a few
days after our unlucky reverse at Abercorn, your
young cub pounced upon one of our recruiting
patrols and carried every man of them to his lair
somewhere in the forest."\par

Reinecke swore a good old German oath.\par

"It's not true," he declared.\par

"You forget yourself, Captain," said Rudenheim,
severely.  "I am not a Berlin newspaper,
or even the Wolff bureau."\par

"I apologise, Major, but really--a German
patrol, with German soldiers?"\par

"A sergeant, two privates, and I don't know
how many askaris.  They all vanished."\par

"Then it can't be known that this English
pighead captured them: how could it?"\par

"My dear captain, a recruiting patrol recruits.
These unfortunate Germans were returning with
their bag--how large I don't know: your cub
released them all.  When the patrol was some
days overdue, a party was sent out in search.
They found the villages towards Lake Rukwa
absolutely empty of able-bodied men, which seems
to show that this British lion-cub has set up a
pretty efficient system of scouting, or the niggers
could hardly have had warning.  But by adopting
the usual methods they wrung the story out of
one of the old men, burnt down a few houses, and
returned with the news."\par

"And you hunted the wretch?"\par

"We had something better to do.  The English,
reinforced by Belgians, have kept things
rather lively on the frontier, and we have had no
men to spare for cub-hunting."\par

"But--but--it is preposterous; it is an insult
to the German flag; to allow a nest of mutineers
to exist--yes, and to make raids--within a couple
of marches of a German town.  The young fool
is alone----"\par

"With all your plantation hands, I understand."\par

"Raw niggers----"\par

"But armed with Mausers we can ill spare."\par

"They don't know butt from muzzle."\par

"Possibly your cub is not such a cub after all.
The English schoolboy nowadays has a cadet's
training, I believe.  Perhaps this youngster might
drive a little military gumption even into the
nigger's wooden head."\par

"Really, Major," cried Reinecke impatiently,
"you speak as though--as though you think the
English good for something, whereas we all know
they can't possibly be.  They've no efficiency;
they're slack; they----"\par

"Yes, we've been told so," the major
interposed drily.  "It's just possible that we're
mistaken--believe what we want to believe.  And
I've seen this boy, remember."\par

Reinecke got up and stalked about the room.\par

"It is absurd; it is scandalous," he cried.  "A
young whippersnapper kidnaps our men, defies us,
lowers the prestige of the German name, makes us
a laughing-stock----"\par

"Stay, stay, Captain.  You are a little
intemperate.  A friendly word of warning: don't talk
like that outside this room.  It's unwise, unsafe,
if you value your commission.  I go so far as to
say you are unreasonable.  You allow personal
feeling to warp your judgment.  Your dislike of
this young Englishman, however natural in the
circumstances--" Reinecke flashed a keen look at
the speaker--"must not blind you to the facts of
the situation.  As I have explained, we have been
hard pressed on the frontier.  The Englishman,
it appears, has an extraordinarily strong
position----"\par

"Where is he?"\par

"They talk of a nullah----"\par

"I know it.  It was in my company he learnt of it."\par

"That must be very annoying."\par

"Not at all, it is good news.  Strong?  Why,
it is a cul-de-sac.  At the north it is blocked
by a lake.  The cub has trapped himself."\par

"You are a little impatient, Captain.  I was
about to tell you that a half company of askaris
went in pursuit of him the same night he left
your plantation--while you were making your
way here.  You left next morning, you
remember, or you would have known that our men
were checked in the forest----"\par

"Checked?  By a horde of untrained niggers?"\par

"Commanded by your cub of an Englishman.
They were checked; only temporarily, of course;
the lieutenant did not know what force he had
against him, and acted with prudence as a good
soldier should.  But when he pushed on to the
nullah, he found that fortification had already
been begun.  The entrance of the nullah was
defended by a formidable breastwork, and to
capture the place would have taken a longer time
than he had to dispose of: he was under orders
for Abercorn."\par

"But surely----"\par

"Let me finish, Captain.  There was a
breastwork, as I say; and I am very much mistaken
if between then and now the boy has not added
to his defences.  It is a mistake to despise one's
enemy, Reinecke, even an Englishman.  Lieutenant
Obermann's opinion--and he is a good man,
you know--is that the nullah, properly defended,
could not be reduced by less than a couple of
companies of good troops--unless it could be
surprised; and since the fellow draws scouts from
all the niggers in the neighbourhood there's little
chance of that.  Two companies could not be
detached from our frontier posts without a risk
which the colonel was unwilling to run.  He is
not blind to all the considerations you put so
forcibly just now; but his decision was, to wait
until the general situation eased, then to take
measures to stamp out your Englishman and his
mutineers as one would destroy a nest of vipers."\par

"Yes, hang the lot."\par

"The Englishman?"\par

"Why not?  He is a spy.  The spy's fate is
to be hanged."\par

"Quite so.  And I am sure we can depend on
you, Captain, to supply a good rope--even for
your partner."\par

Reinecke turned angrily towards the major,
whose attitude throughout the interview had been
very unsatisfactory, and in whose tone he had
caught a hint of contempt.  But the explosion
that seemed imminent was prevented by a knock
at the door and the entrance of the major's
servant.\par

The man saluted formally, and announced that
an Arab was enquiring for Captain Reinecke.\par

"Send him in," said the major: "unless you
would prefer to see him at your own quarters,
Captain."\par

"No.  Why should I meet an Arab secretly?"
said Reinecke with irritation.  "Let him come in."\par

There entered a lean, haggard Arab, in worn
and tattered dress, with one arm in a sling.  He
bowed to the officers.\par

"Haroun!" cried Reinecke.  "I hardly knew
you ... It is one of my overseers, Major ...
Where have you been?"\par

The man, in his broken German, poured out
a long story, which keenly interested the officers
in different ways.  He said that, after having
been removed from the plantation, he had been
forced to take service with the Englishman, and
been cruelly treated by him.  Lifting his tunic,
he turned his back, and displayed a few weals.
He escaped, and was fired at and wounded in the
arm.  After several terrible days in the forest, he
had managed to crawl into Bismarckburg, and
what with hunger and pain was now at the point
of death.\par

"Flogging a German subject!" cried Reinecke.
"Another nail in the Englishman's coffin."\par

"A knot in the noose, let us say.  Your Arab
had better have something to eat: he may then
tell us a good deal that we want to know.  His
arm can be attended to afterwards.  He is not
so near death as he thinks."\par

The man was given into the charge of the
major's servant, to be fed.\par

"Your Englishman, I suppose, dealt with the
Arab as he had seen him deal with your niggers,"
remarked the major.\par

"He saw nothing of the kind," replied
Reinecke with an air of malicious triumph.  "While
he was at the plantation I forbade the use of the
whip.  You see, Major?--the English boasted
humanity is sheer cant and hypocrisy: what we
do openly they do on the sly."\par

"Hardly that, Reinecke.  You forget there
are German prisoners in the nullah.  They
probably saw the flogging."\par

"And shared it, I daresay.  The English are
capable of any atrocity.  But we shall find the
man useful, Major.  Nothing could be better.
And the nullah is so near that though the rains
have started we might crush the vipers soon:
there'll be a pause in the operations on the
frontier."\par

The Arab returned, refreshed and clean.
Reinecke questioned him eagerly, and drew from
him many details of what had happened since
the flight from the plantation.  The German
prisoners, he said, had been placed on the island,
where a hut had been built for them.  Food was
conveyed to them on a raft.  As the man
described the defensive works at the nullah,
Reinecke drew a rough diagram in his pocketbook,
and marked the positions of the trenches
and the camp.\par

"The youngster has a good headpiece," said
the major, looking with interest at the diagram.
"His name?  Willoughby?  I'm afraid we can't
claim German ancestry for him."\par

"A machine-gun will smash him," said Reinecke.\par

"A machine-gun would not be very effective
against defences like these, and it would be a
terrible business to get up anything heavier across
such country, at any rate while the rains are on.
He seems to have made good use of his time
during the last two months in training his
niggers, and unfortunately has won over our
trained askaris.  A frontal attack would be very
costly, my friend."\par

"I can show another way into the nullah, Herr
Major," said the Arab.\par

"Why didn't you say so before?" cried
Reinecke.  "Where is it?"\par

"The Herr Hauptmann will take me back into
his service?"\par

"Dog, would you bargain with me?  By your
own confession you deserted to the enemy."\par

"I was compelled."\par

"You deserted all the same.  Deserters are
shot.  Your only chance of escaping the penalty
is to assist us--to show us the way into the
nullah.  You'll do that, and if you fail you'll be shot."\par

The Arab protested that he was sure of his
ground, and would faithfully lead the troops to
an entrance into the nullah which was at present
wholly unsuspected by the Englishman.  He
described its position, and Reinecke's eyes
sparkled with anticipation as he turned to
Rudenheim and said--\par

"We have him, Major!  We'll capture the
place at little cost, and then----  Haroun, go
and show the doctor your arm, and come to my
quarters to-morrow."\par

"A moment," said the major.  "You were
flogged: what for?"\par

The Arab appeared to be for a moment disconcerted
by the German's swift question.  Then
he answered:\par

"Because I would not work as hard as the
Englishman wished, Herr Major."\par

"So!  You may go ... The man is a liar,
Reinecke.  You will find that there's nothing
much wrong with his arm, if anything at all.
All the same, that northern entrance is genuine
enough, I think; and we must certainly catch
your cub.  But I don't think we'll hang him;
he's the kind of man I like to make a prisoner
of war."\par


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{\noindent}
CHAPTER XIII--HUNTED}

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{\noindent}
Major von Rudenheim's surmise
that "the cub" had been busy was
correct: Tom had never before been so fully
occupied, and, as he afterwards confessed, he had
never been happier in his life.\par

The northern end of the nullah had now the
appearance of a prosperous native village.  Tom
had felt certain misgivings on the score of
cleanliness and health; but he found that the Wahehe,
like all tribes that inhabit inland and mountainous
districts, away from the corrupting influences
of the coast, were tidy and orderly, and
under the authority of their old chief, Mirambo,
the people settled down to a comfortable
existence.  The one drawback was the limited range
of movement; but even in this respect the
people were little worse off than they had been
on the plantation, and their rooted belief that
before long the Germans would be utterly driven
from the country gave them bright hopes for the
future.  Moreover, the women and children in a
native village rarely stray far from their homes,
and as for the men, they had movement enough.\par

To begin with, Tom organised a regular body
of scouts, incorporating some of his own men
with those furnished by his new ally, M'setu.
Always keeping in mind his alternative ultimate
designs, either to trek into British territory or
to hold his ground until the British overran the
border, he determined, when the scouts became
proficient, to patrol the whole country between
the nullah and the Neu Langenburg road.  The
defeat of the Germans at Abercorn was very
heartening: clearly they were not to have the
easy conquest that Reinecke had apparently
expected.  At the same time, it was only too
likely that their preparations were much more
advanced than the British, and he could not
hope that the Germans would yield the largest
and most precious of their colonial possessions
without a bitter struggle.  It was also certain that
the enemy would at some time or other make a
serious effort to crush this mutiny; and while,
in such a vast and well wooded country, he could
not have commanded every possible avenue of
approach even with ten times as many men as
were available for scouting, he would at least make
reasonably sure that any movement of the enemy
on the main tracks should be reported to him.\par

At first he sent out one of the Wahehe with
each of M'setu's men, and practised them in
watching the movements of small parties of
M'setu's people within a few miles of the nullah.
Presently, in order to increase the number of his
fighting-men, he accustomed M'setu's men to
scout alone.  By degrees he extended their field
of operations until at length he had established
a definite chain, or rather network, of
scouting-posts commanding the principal tracks from
Bismarckburg, and especially the main frontier road
to Neu Langenburg.  Within a month no enemy
force or convoy could move along the frontier
without Tom's hearing of it.\par

The reports were at first brought to him by
runners, and reached him many hours late.
Could he not devise some means of saving time
and exertion alike?  He remembered having read,
in a book of travels, how the natives of the
mountainous interior of New Guinea were
accustomed to shout news from height to height.
The hills to the south of his own position would
lend themselves admirably to a similar system,
and after a few rather heart-breaking experiments
he succeeded in teaching the negroes to adopt
this plan.  Each prominent hill was given a
name; the man stationed at any particular post
had to shout the name to the next, and within
a very few minutes Tom at the nullah learnt that
a message had been dispatched by a scout perhaps
forty miles away.\par

Meanwhile he practised the fighting-men in
aiming and sighting and fire discipline, giving
his commands by means of the whistle borrowed
from the German sergeant.  These exercises were
performed, not only in the nullah, but on the
ground cleared in front of the barricade and also
in the forest.  His stock of ammunition would
not allow of much target practice, and he ruefully
owned that the greater part of the men could
not be expected to become good marksmen.  It
was more profitable to spend time in giving them
cohesion in simple field movements.  He divided
them into sections of sixteen, and got up sham
fights in the forest: one party advancing, the
other retiring.  At first the men whose part it
was to retire refused to do so, and even came
to blows with the attackers: why should they
withdraw before men no better than themselves?
But after a time they entered into the spirit of
the game, and showed considerable aptitude.\par

Tom found the askaris useful in the course
of his various exercises.  At first, when he
practised his men in the nullah, the askaris looked
on with disdain, and roared with laughter at the
mistakes made by the negroes.  But by degrees
they grew interested; they commented among
themselves on the contrast between the
Englishman's patience and good temper and the rough
treatment they had suffered at the hands of
their German drill sergeants.  Tom, though he
affected to disregard them, was all the time
keenly watching, and there came a moment when
he suddenly turned to them and asked for two
volunteers to show the Wahehe the correct way
of kneeling to take aim.  As he had expected,
they were flattered; every man wished to serve
as a model.  For some days he did not apply
to them again, and noticed a certain restlessness
and disappointment among them.  At length
he allowed them to act regularly as guides and
markers, but did not admit them definitively to
the ranks of his fighting-men until they came
to him in a body and begged to be taken fully
into his service.  They were Sudanese, like the
majority of the German native troops.  Many of
their people were fighting in the British ranks:
they preferred his drill to the German; and they
were ready to vow fidelity to him.\par

"What about pay?" asked Tom.  "I have no money."\par

They replied that in the nullah they had no use
for pay, but no doubt he would pay them when
he had the money--an English promise was good.
Tom was rather doubtful of the wisdom of
trusting men who so suddenly changed their
allegiance, and he suspected that at the slightest
set-back they would desert him.  On the other
hand, these trained men might serve as good
stiffening for his untried troops, and ultimately
he decided to incorporate them with the garrison
of the nullah, but not to allow them to leave it
until he had some clear proof of their loyalty.\par

As time went on, he became somewhat worried
about two matters--the approach of the rainy
season, and the food supply.  The foliage of
all the trees had turned red, a sure sign, according
to Mwesa, that the rains were at hand.  The
lake would fill, the stream would become much
swollen: would he be flooded out?  What would
be the effect of the damp upon his health and the
health of the people?  Hitherto there had been
no sickness except minor ailments, which he had
treated with such drugs from Reinecke's stores
as he knew the use of.  Ague and malaria were
only names to him, but they stood for something
terrible--the more terrible because unknown.  He
had a good stock of quinine, the great stand-by,
he understood, in tropical climates; he would
watch for the first sign of fever, and then dose
freely.  Fortunately one of the Arab overseers
had been accustomed to doctor the workers on
the plantation, and this man was gratified by
being appointed health officer to the community.\par

The food question was an even greater difficulty,
for while all might not be sick, all must be
fed.  The provisions brought from the plantation
were running low: and though these had been
supplemented by small animals trapped in the
forest and by occasional gifts from M'setu, these
sources were too precarious to be relied on.  In
order to ease the situation, Tom at last made a
habit of going into the forest for a day's hunting
once a week, leaving Mirambo in charge of the
nullah.  M'setu's people were excellent beaters
and knew the likeliest places for game; the
Wahehe were born hunters; but he could not
afford to let them use his ammunition
indiscriminately, and when they accompanied him
they were armed only with spears.  Everything
depended on his own gun.  In the course of
these shooting expeditions he brought down
several head of eland, hartebeest, and rhinoceros,
the last being a special favourite with the people.
The game was cut up and carried home by his
own men and by M'setu's people, who were
sufficiently paid for their services by the present
of certain portions of each day's bag.\par

It was after one of these expeditions that Tom
had had to take disciplinary measures with Haroun.
The rationing system, after a little trouble, had
worked well.  Moses had proved himself to be
thoroughly honest, and every one had his fair
share.  After a time Moses began to suspect that
some one was pilfering.  Small quantities of food
mysteriously disappeared.  A watch was kept;
Tom called the people together and warned them
that any one who acted against the common
welfare must be punished; but the thief was not
detected until, made bold by success, he forgot
caution, and was caught red-handed by Moses.
On returning from a day's shooting Tom learnt
that the culprit was the Arab who had volunteered
his services on the first day at the nullah.  In such
a man the crime could not be taken lightly, and
Tom ordered the man half a dozen strokes of the whip.\par

A few days afterwards Haroun disappeared.
The sentries on guard day and night at the
barricade declared that the Arab had not passed
them.  The nullah was searched; no trace of him
could be found.  Some of the people reported
that, after the whipping, he had sulkily held
himself aloof, and used to wander alone by the shore
of the lake.  At length it was generally believed
that he had fallen victim to a crocodile, and his
fate was a fruitful topic of conversation among
the Wahehe.\par

One day, accompanied by Mwesa and some
two-score beaters and carriers, Tom set off to
shoot.  The rains had just begun, and Mirambo
had told him that with the filling and overflowing
of the streams animals would certainly be found
on the swamps thus created.  He had usually
gone either north or east, as being least likely to
encounter enemies in those directions.  On this
occasion, however, he struck to the west, in order
to reach low-lying ground where, according to
M'setu's huntsmen, at this season of the year
game was plentiful.\par

A couple of hours' march through the forest
brought him to an extensive hollow, covered only
with scrub and tall grass, and already showing
signs of becoming the impassable swamp which
would result from a few weeks' rain.  The beaters,
marching quietly ahead, soon made signs that they
had sighted game, and presently, through the
grass, Tom saw the long dark form of a
rhinoceros placidly browsing.  Stealing round to
leeward, he gradually approached the animal until
he was within easy range, fired, and had the
satisfaction of seeing his quarry fall at the first shot.\par

The report of his rifle had startled another
beast that was wallowing in a pool near by.  It
rose, sniffed around, then made off with lumbering
but rapid gait across the hollow towards a
belt of woodland on higher ground.  Tom hurried
in pursuit with his beaters, leaving Mwesa to
guard the animal he had already shot.\par

The chase was a long one.  The rhinoceros,
before it recovered from its alarm, plunged
through a long stretch of forest and scrub, and
was found at last resting in a narrow glade
bordered on the further side by tall bushes.
Again Tom brought down the beast, this time at
his second shot.  The natives, with cries of
delight, were rushing forward to skin and
dismember it for transport when, without warning,
there came from the bushes beyond the sharp
crack of several rifles, bullets sang through the
air, and two of the beaters fell.  The rest bolted
into the bush on either side, and Tom, a little
less precipitately, was about to follow them when
he saw a number of German askaris emerge from
cover opposite, with Reinecke at their head.\par

Reinecke's eyes were already gleaming with
triumph.  He shouted a word or two which Tom
could not catch, and then fired his revolver.  In
face of odds, Tom had already started to make
good his escape: but when he heard the German's
bullet whistle past him, he snatched out his
revolver, wheeled round, and fired.  Reinecke
flung up his arm, stopped short, and yelled to the
askaris at his heels.  Tom sprinted across the
few yards of open ground, dashed into the bush,
and ran, at first blindly, for he heard the askaris
close behind: one or two of them were shooting
at random in the hope of hitting him as he ran.\par

He was fleet of foot, and guessed that he could
easily outstrip the askaris, laden with their service
packs.  The danger was that he might lose his
way in the forest.  All his men had disappeared;
they would probably find their way back to the
nullah without difficulty.  It was important,
however, that he should not be long behind them, for
if they should report that he was captured or
killed, the people might be seized with panic, and
all his work be overthrown.  He had left the
glade at a different point from that at which he
had entered it, and so could not follow the track
made by his men.  But fortune favoured him.
He had not pushed his way far among the trees
when he struck a game track, along which, if the
askaris also did not discover it, he could make
still swifter progress than they, hindered by the bush.\par

Some few minutes later, the track brought him
to a small stream: it had no doubt been trodden
by animals in quest of water.  He jumped into
the stream, ran a short distance in the same
direction as the current, then made a long jump
into a clump of low shrubs on the right bank.
Replacing as well as he could the disarranged
vegetation, so as to give no clue to his pursuers,
he plunged once more into the bush, in the hope
of coming by and by upon a cross track that
would lead towards the nullah.\par


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{\noindent}
CHAPTER XIV--THE TRAIL}

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{\noindent}
Never before had Tom been alone in the
bush.  On the few occasions when he
had gone shooting alone, during his sojourn in
Reinecke's bungalow, he had always followed
well-defined tracks.  Since then, Mwesa or
Mirambo or some other native had been with
him.  But now he had no guide, and he was
seized with a feeling of helplessness.  Rain had
begun to fall, and the obscure sky could not be
read for the points of the compass.  Brushwood
grew to his knees; thorn bushes threw out
tentacles that caught at his clothes and tore his
flesh.  Dodging obstructions, he sometimes found
that he had only worsened his plight, and was
forced to tear a way for himself at the cost of
bleeding hands.  Rarely he came to open spaces;
then he quickened his pace, though his wet boots
dragged heavily upon his feet.  Once, in crossing
a grassy glade, he sank over his ankles in morass,
and swerved hastily into the bush again, to avoid
being engulfed.\par

Presently, stopping to rest, he thought he
heard voices, and hoped that they came from his
own men.  He dared not call, nor even move
towards them, until he was sure whether they
were friends or foes.  The voices came nearer.
At all costs he must learn who the speakers were,
and he sprang up into a leafy tree from which
he might get a view of the country around.
Spying out cautiously through the foliage, he saw
a band of men pushing their way up a
bush-covered slope not a hundred yards from his
perch.  Through the heavy rain he could not
at first distinguish them; but as they approached
he recognised the deserter, Haroun, leading a
couple of askaris.  Behind them, out of the bush,
emerged Reinecke with his arm in a sling, a
younger officer by his side, and a line of askaris
following in single file.  He shrank back into
the tree, dreading lest they should pass
immediately beneath him and some sharp-eyed man
discover him.  But they topped the slope some
distance away and passed out of sight.\par

"I have come in the right direction," he
thought.  "They must be bound for the nullah."\par

Waiting a little, to make sure that no more of
the enemy were coming, he slipped down from
the tree, and with infinite caution followed in
their track.  If this led indeed towards the
nullah, he would presently be on ground that
he knew, and might circumvent them and arrive
first.  He felt somewhat perplexed.  The Arab
Haroun had certainly betrayed him: why, then,
had Reinecke set out with no more than thirty
or forty men?  Had Haroun so little respect
for the defences of the nullah as to imagine that
they could be stormed by so small a force?  Had
Reinecke so much contempt for his ability to
train the negroes as to believe that forty askaris
were more than a match for three times their
number as well armed as themselves?  He set
his lips grimly: if such were their ideas, he
would promise them a rough disillusionment.\par

For some time he followed them up, always
with the greatest caution.  At length the sound
of voices ahead told him that they had halted.
He stopped at once.  The rain had almost ceased.
In a few seconds he heard a rustling and the
squelching of boots not far in front of him, and
he dived into the bush at the side of the track
and watched.  Two askaris tramped past him,
in the direction from which they had come.
They walked unconcernedly: no suspicion of his
presence had brought them back.  What, then,
was their errand?\par

Reinecke's party was still halted.  Tom heard
now and then the lower tones of the Germans
mingling with the high-pitched voices of the
askaris.  What were they waiting for?  After
perhaps twenty minutes voices came from the
other direction.  The two askaris reappeared,
followed by a string of native porters, some
carrying what appeared to be the material of a
tent; others, boxes and bales of provisions;
others, lumps of freshly killed meat.  The
explanation of the delay flashed upon Tom.  The
game he had killed had been cut up; the two
askaris had been sent back to hasten the march
of the porters.  "I might have been nabbed,"
Tom thought.\par

When the porters joined the waiting askaris,
a German voice gave the order to march.  After
a short interval Tom emerged from his place of
concealment and followed.  On reaching the
spot on which they had halted, he found that it
was skirted by a track evidently made not long
before--almost certainly the path by which his
men had come from the nullah that morning.
To his surprise, Reinecke and his party, instead
of pursuing this track, as they might have been
expected to do if their destination was the nullah,
had swerved northward and marched through the
pathless scrub.\par

Tom was standing at the angle between the
two tracks, hesitating whether to follow the enemy
or to take the shortest cut home, when a rustle
among the bush behind him caused him to face
round quickly, revolver in hand.  His eyes fell
not on an enemy, but on the ever-smiling
countenance of Mwesa.\par

"Savvy me find sah all right," said the boy, quietly.\par

"You saw Reinecke?" asked Tom.\par

Mwesa nodded.\par

"Haroun too, sah.  Him no eat up: how him get away?"\par

"The sentries must have been napping, I
suppose.  But how did you come to find me here?"\par

"Me hear shoot," he said.  "Me run find
sah: rhino no matter.  Sah gone: ebery one
gone--all 'cept fellas what cut up nudder rhino.
Ah!  Mwesa savvy all same.  Me run back dis
way: savvy sah come dis way bimeby."\par

Tom reflected that the boy's optimism had
been justified by a lucky accident.\par

"Where are the men?" he asked.\par

"No savvy, sah.  'Spect dey all run home quick."\par

"I hope so.  Now, these Germans--I thought
they were going to our nullah, but it seems that
they are not.  What is their game?  Any
suggestion, Mwesa?"\par

Mwesa did not understand the word, but he
tried to look as if he did.  Tom, however, did
not expect from him any explanation of Reinecke's
movements: he was trying to puzzle out one for
himself.  The sides of the nullah were too
precipitous to afford an entrance: and though the
enemy might do a little damage by firing from
the top down into the camp, that could easily be
defeated by moving the people to well-covered
places where shots could not reach them.  As a
means of capturing the position such a course
was absurd.  Yet Reinecke could hardly intend
a mere reconnoitring expedition: his men were
equipped as for fighting, and it appeared from the
amount of baggage carried by the porters that he
expected to camp for at least one night.\par

Unable to guess at the German's design, Tom
came to the conclusion that, even at the cost of a
certain uneasiness among his people, he had better
follow up the enemy, and see for himself the
direction of their march: that might throw some
light on their object.  With Mwesa he set off in
their tracks, keeping a good look-out ahead for
laggards, and stopping frequently to listen.\par

It was just after one o'clock.  Tom was both
tired and hungry.  His clothes were sodden, and
the atmosphere was like that of a Turkish bath.
The track wound in and out through the scrub,
and presently among forest trees; and it had
evidently been traversed before, for no one
absolutely strange to the country could have found
so well the easiest passage through the scrub.\par

After walking for nearly two hours, at so slow
a pace that no more than four miles could have
been covered, Tom found that the track led
through the middle of a wooded ravine, which
trended, as nearly as he could judge, to the
north-east.  The ground sloped gradually upwards, and
in the distance Tom detected the march of the
enemy by the swaying of the bushes and tall
grass through which they passed.\par

He advanced with still greater caution, and
well it was that he did so, for in a few minutes
the path emerged into a narrow rocky defile, only
sparsely covered with vegetation, and here two
askaris were posted as sentries.  A little beyond
them the porters had laid down their loads.
Looking out from behind a screen of bushes,
Tom saw the askaris and their German officers
marching ahead.\par

Avoiding the sentries by plunging into the bush
that skirted the defile, Tom and the negro lad
hurried on after the enemy.  Well screened by
the foliage, they could afford to quicken their
pace until they overtook them, and thenceforward
kept pace with them.  After about ten minutes
they discovered that the party had again halted.
The men were sitting on boulders and slabs of
rock: the German lieutenant sat a little apart.
Reinecke and the Arab had disappeared.\par

Then Tom noticed that the defile seemed to
end in the air, as if it had arrived at the brink of
a cliff.  Creeping cautiously through the bush
above the narrow path, they came to the top of
the rise and looked over.  It was not a cliff, as
Tom had supposed; but a somewhat steep and
rocky slope, dotted here and there with patches of
coarse scrub.  Down this slope two figures were
moving: Haroun the Arab led, Reinecke was only
a few paces behind him.\par

When they came to the foot of the slope they
halted, and talked somewhat excitedly together.
Haroun pointed forward and downward; Reinecke
stooped, looked over the edge of the slope, shook
his head and apparently flew into a rage.  Thereupon
the Arab went alone over the brink, descended
slowly, and passed out of the watchers' sight.
Reinecke sat down in a fissure, in the attitude of
waiting.\par

Tom had observed these movements at first
with nothing more than a certain impersonal
curiosity; but a suspicion of their meaning began
to dawn when Haroun disappeared.  The air was
misty; from the spot where he crouched nothing
was visible beyond the margin of the slope except
the grey sky.  But Reinecke, where he sat,
evidently saw something more.  Every now and
again he bent over, following the progress of the
Arab, and also, as it appeared, taking much
interest in the scene below.\par

"We are above the nullah," thought Tom.
"That fellow Haroun must have discovered a
way out and in.  Our position is to be turned.
My word!"\par

Some twenty minutes passed.  Haroun's head
reappeared at the edge of the slope.  He spoke
to Reinecke volubly, using his hands in free
gestures, as though demonstrating a point.  The
German appeared to be convinced.  He got up,
stepped over the edge with the aid of the Arab's
hand, and followed the man slowly out of sight.\par


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{\noindent}
CHAPTER XV--THE BACK DOOR}

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{\noindent}
"Run back and see if the askaris are still
there," said Tom to Mwesa.\par

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

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

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

Mwesa's eyes opened wide with surprise.\par

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

\begin{figure}[h!tbp]
\label{figure-75}%
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\label{mwesa-flung-himself-on-the-arab}%
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{\hbox to \hsize{\hfill\includegraphics[width=1.000\textwidth,keepaspectratio=true]{images/img-210.jpg}\hfill}}
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{\centerleft{{\itshape{MWESA FLUNG HIMSELF ON THE ARAB.}}
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\hfill{}
\end{figure}

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reinecke cursed him.\par

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ladder here, sah," he called.\par

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

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

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

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

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

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


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{\noindent}
CHAPTER XVI--DRAWN BLANK}

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{\noindent}
When Mirambo came up, hard on the
heels of Mwesa, he too fell on his face
and greeted Tom with an air of mingled humility
and gratitude.  In the absence of the m'sungu
his position had been a difficult one.  The men
of the hunting party had come dropping in singly
and in small groups, and the story they told,
magnifying the numbers of the enemy, had struck
consternation and fear into the hearts of the
people.  If the m'sungu was gone, what would
become of them?  Who would tell them what to
do?  How could they deal with white men's
war-power without a white man to help them?  Some
of the weaker-kneed among them had talked of
fleeing from the nullah and betaking themselves
to M'setu, and it had needed all Mirambo's
authority to check the panic.  He had reminded them
of what the m'sungu had already done: how he
had escaped the snares of Reinecke, quelled the
German drill-sergeant with a look, led them forth
with Reinecke himself a prisoner, shown them
how to fortify the nullah, driven back the enemy.
Surely one who had done all this would not now
fall a prey to the evil men; surely he would come
back to them.\par

Strangely enough, as Tom thought, the old
chief's arguments had been strongly backed by
the askaris, who, as fighting-men, were held
in respect by the Wahehe.  They expressed
the utmost confidence that the m'sungu would
return, and declared for holding the nullah at
least until it was definitely known what had
become of him.  No doubt their motive was
complicated by fear of the consequences if they
fell into German hands and were treated as
deserters; but Tom did not know this, and when
he heard of their loyalty he abandoned his last
objections, and resolved to incorporate them in
his fighting force.\par

He listened to Mirambo's story, interpreted
by Mwesa, only for a minute or two, for there
was work to be done.  During Mwesa's absence
he had rapidly made his plans.  The German
askaris in the ravine above had almost certainly
heard the shouts which had greeted his arrival.
Their officer would send men forward to discover
the meaning of the shouts, and what had
happened to Reinecke and the Arab.  They would
no doubt move with caution, and, unfamiliar with
the ground, would take some time in scouting
over the rough, steep slopes, and would probably
hesitate to adventure into the cleft which dropped
deep into the unknown.  If they came so far as
to find the body of Haroun, they were more
likely to hasten back with the news than to court
danger or death themselves by descending lower.
What action, then, would the lieutenant take?
He would wish to learn his superior officer's fate,
probably come down with his men, and, if he
discovered the passage into the nullah, might risk
an attack.\par

Tom felt that he must first guard against this.
Getting Mirambo to choose a dozen of the best
shots, he sent them up the ladder, with orders
to post themselves in the cleft behind bushes or
boulders, and fire at the enemy if they appeared.
Though outnumbered, with the advantage of
position and surprise they could probably check
the descent.  In case they should be driven back,
he ordered Mirambo himself to hold thirty men
under cover near the margin of the lake, and at
the same time to keep Reinecke under guard.
Mirambo was the last man in the world to be
overcome by any German blandishments.\par

The non-combatants--old men, women and
children--must be protected from harm.  He
ordered them to withdraw some little distance
down the nullah, out of range of fire either from
above or from the ground at the foot of the cliff.\par

For himself, he had resolved on a venturesome,
if not a risky, course.  There were still a few
hours of daylight left--long enough to lead a
force out of the nullah, along the foothills above,
to the ravine where the enemy were encamped.
The probabilities were that, met by rifle-fire as
they descended the cleft, they would hesitate to
press an attack against unknown numbers, and
make their way back to headquarters to report
the disappearance of their captain and the
necessity of larger forces.  Tom thought that with
luck he might reach the mouth of the ravine in
time to ambush them, cut them off, and capture
them all.  His men being only partly trained, he
would need perhaps twice as many as the enemy
numbered, which meant almost all the Wahehe
who were able to shoot.  But his new-born
confidence in his askaris led him to adopt the
bold course of leaving them to defend the
southern end of the nullah.  It was scarcely
likely that another hostile force was approaching
in that direction: Reinecke had probably been
confident of an easy victory through the back
door.  Yet nothing should be left to chance;
and the defence of the barricade might be safely
entrusted for a few hours to the askaris and the
remnant of the Wahehe, with Mirambo and his
party at hand as reinforcements in case of need.\par

Tom lost no time in making these arrangements,
and an hour after his return he led some
eighty men out through the barricade, swung
round to the right, and climbed the foothills over
which the course of the ravine lay.\par

"They'll have to carry me back," thought
Tom, before he had walked a mile.  "Didn't
know I was so fagged."\par

Tom, indeed, had been drawing rather heavily
on his physical reserves, and to-day for the first
time weariness warned him against overdoing it.
Now, more than ever, was it necessary that he
should not break down, for he felt certain that
the difficulties of his people were only beginning.\par

Having already been on his feet for eight or
nine hours, he found that march of a few miles,
at the close of the day, more exhausting than he
would have imagined.  The country was broken
and hilly, now bare rock, now soft spongy
ground cumbered with tangled vegetation and
overshadowed by forest trees.  But the chance
of trapping the force that had been sent to trap
him sustained his spirits; and the mind can,
for a time, compel the body to feats beyond
its normal strength.  His men, fresh, vigorous,
inspirited by the return of their leader and the
recapture of Reinecke, marched on with eagerness
to reach their goal: their enthusiasm was itself
a stimulant to him.\par

There was no path along those rugged, wooded
foot-hills.  The sun was blanketed by the
rain-laden sky.  It was possible only to guess their
course; and Tom, seeing by his watch that little
more than half-an-hour of daylight was left,
began to fear that darkness would surprise him
before he should have struck upon the ravine.
But at this very moment of misgiving he was
almost at the edge.  A few yards farther brought
him to a sharp declivity.  He ordered his men
to halt, advanced with Mwesa through the
low-growing trees, and looking cautiously to right
and left, beheld the long hollow that was his
journey's end.\par

It appeared to him that he had hit the ravine
at a spot half-way up its length.  None of the
enemy was in sight.  The askaris, if they
remained where he had last seen them, were
probably some distance to the right; the sentries
at the mouth of the ravine must be three or
four hundred yards to the left.  These latter
must be secured if his plan was to have full
success; so, returning to his men, he chose four
to accompany him and Mwesa, and hastened along
through the scrub near the brink of the ravine.\par

Scouting with circumspection, he arrived at
the place where the steep sides fell to the level
of the surrounding country.  The sentries were
not where they had been.  He sent Mwesa to
worm his way across under cover of the bushes
and to see if he could track the men to another
post.  The boy returned sooner than he had
expected.\par

"Fink all gone, sah," said he.\par

"The sentries, you mean?"\par

"All fella askaris, sah.  All gone, no fear."\par

"How do you know?"\par

Mwesa looked down at Tom's feet.\par

"Dey hab got big boots like sah.  Sah come see."\par

Tom went down with him into the midst of
the long grass and the bushes that covered the
centre of the ravine.  Broken twigs and branches
and long swathes of trampled grass marked the
recent passage of men, and Mwesa pointed out
on the damp soil the impressions of heavy boots,
and showed him that in the freshest the heels
were up, not down, the ravine.  A few minutes'
investigation in both directions placed it beyond
doubt that, not long before, a body of men had
marched westward into the forest.\par

"Too late!" muttered Tom.  "But we must
make sure.  Mwesa, scout along to the cleft.
Be quick, for it will be dark soon."\par

He returned to his party, dragging his weary
limbs.  In twenty minutes Mwesa came back,
hot and breathless.\par

"All gone, sah.  Haroun him stay: big birds
dey find him."\par

Tom shuddered.  The vultures were already
at work.  "Come, let us get back," he said.
"Get some of the men to make a {\itshape{machila}}.  I
can't walk another step, and we can't venture the
climb down in the dark."\par

With two rifles and some pliant tendrils a
litter was soon constructed, and reclining on this
Tom headed the march home.  He was tired
and disappointed; the men were crestfallen:
some asked why the m'sungu did not pursue the
askaris.  But Tom was in no condition to follow
up the enemy, even if his reason had favoured
the idea.  He could only guess at what had
happened: that the lieutenant, alarmed by the
distant shouts, had gone forward, discovered the
dead Arab, inferred that Reinecke also had come
to grief, and concluding that the game was up,
had withdrawn his men hurriedly and in
something of a panic.  To pursue in darkness would
be folly.  Tom consoled himself for his
disappointment with the reflection that, after all, more
prisoners would have been a nuisance--so many
more mouths to feed, and a burden to the guards.\par

The homeward journey was slow and laborious:
only by the touch of their bare feet could the
Wahehe distinguish in the darkness the tracks
they had made as they came.  Tom slumbered
a part of the way, and when, at a late hour, they
regained the nullah, he waited only to hear that
nothing had disturbed the peace and to arrange
for Reinecke's accommodation during the night,
before seeking his hut and throwing himself,
worn out, upon the mattress of plaited grass
which some of the women had made for him.\par

Next morning, after ten hours' unbroken sleep,
he rose, a little stiffly, to face the work of
another day.\par

"First job, to dispose of Reinecke," he thought.\par

The German was in a furious temper.\par

"You wish to kill me," he cried, when Tom
came to him.  "You put me in a wretched native
hut, without a fire, without blankets, to perish of
cold, to be struck with ague.  As a prisoner of
war--you call it war?--I demand proper treatment,
according to international law."\par

"I don't know anything about international
law," said Tom; "common law and common
sense would set you dangling from a tree, I
suspect.  But I'm not your judge.  While you're
here you'll be treated like the other prisoners.
You'll join them on the island yonder."\par

"I must have a separate hut.  In Germany
officers and men are never lodged together: it
is forbidden."\par

"We are not in Germany," said Tom, curtly.
"The hut is large enough to hold you all:
there's no room on the island for another, even
if time could be spared to build it.  If you feel
contaminated by the company of fellow Germans
you can spend your leisure in making for yourself
a partition: there's plenty of material on the
island.  You can then live in your own first-class
compartment: the men will probably prefer it."\par

Reinecke was patently surprised.  The young
cub, as he might have put it, seemed to have
suddenly grown up.  Even at that last dinner in
the bungalow Tom had not taken quite this tone
with him.  He said no more at the moment:
his thoughts were his own.  In a few minutes he
was punted across the lake on the raft, and left
on the shore of the island to introduce himself to
his fellow captives.  Tom smiled as he watched
them salute him, then step hastily aside as, without
returning their salute, he pushed his way into the
hut.  In a few moments he came out and,
gnawing his moustache, gazed across at the village,
and up the side of the nullah.  His lips moved:
then he wheeled round and re-entered the hut,
whence he emerged no more that day.\par

It was a busy day for Tom.  He saw that
the failure of Reinecke's expedition was sure to
provoke the Germans to a serious attempt to deal
with him.  They would no longer hold him
lightly, and suppose that he could be snuffed out
by a handful of Askaris.  When they came, they
would come in force.  It might be in a day or
two; it might be perhaps after a week or more;
much would depend on the state of the weather.
Were the interval long or short, it must be
utilised to the full in strengthening his position.\par

An obvious precaution was to establish scouting
posts between Bismarckburg and the scene of
the previous day's adventures.  Tom went over
the ground with some of M'setu's men who were
in his regular service as scouts, and fixed on two
well-wooded knolls that commanded the track
leading to the ravine.  He surveyed the ravine
itself with a view to fortifying it--or rather of
blocking the way to the cleft--and came to the
conclusion that this would involve too much
labour, even if it could be achieved with any
success.  A more feasible scheme was to form
barricades of rocks and trees at various points
on the narrow cleft.  These, held by a few men,
would interpose awkward obstacles to any force
that attempted to attack by the newly discovered
back door.\par

Tom set some of his men to work at once in
erecting three barricades, some thirty yards apart.
Then he clambered down by the ladder, and
realising that that ingenious contrivance would
hardly bear the strain of frequent use, gave
directions that it should be strengthened.  By this
means communication between the nullah and the
cleft above would always be safe: while in the
event of his men being forced back and followed
by the enemy, the ladder could be cut away,
leaving the attackers in the air, so to speak, nearly
twenty feet above the ground.\par

All day the sky threatened rain, and distant
rumbles of thunder were heard; but the storm
held off until these preliminary measures had
been carried out.  Soon after dark the heavens
opened.  Thunder growled, cracked, bellowed:
the air was one vast shaking noise.  A vivid
glare rose up from the horizon until all the world
seemed on fire.  Great bursts of light, now in
one quarter, now in another, shot through the
sky like gigantic squibs; and dazzling streaks of
jagged brilliance rent the firmament.  And then,
in the midst of this wonderful phantasmagoria, it
was as if the fire-maker set out to quench the
universal conflagration.  Down fell the rain, in
sheets, in torrents, in cascades of hailstones as
large as eggs.  The people cowered, shivering,
shrieking, in their huts.  Out of the boiling lake
the stream poured in angry flood, hissing and
raving like a maddened beast let loose.
Tingling in every nerve, Tom watched the amazing
storm for hour after hour: what were man's
puny battles compared with this titanic conflict
of the elements?  And it was only when the
thunder died away in sullen mutterings, and the
lightning gave pale flickers and tired gleams, but
still the rain roared unceasingly--it was only then
that Tom became alive to the very practical
question: would huts, stores, barricades, all be
washed away?\par


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{\noindent}
CHAPTER XVII--A GERMAN OFFER}

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{\noindent}
For the rest of the night Tom got no sleep.
Listening to the rush of the torrent through
the nullah he waited anxiously for the dawn.  As
soon as there was light enough, he went out to
see what havoc the storm had wrought.  The
worst anticipations were not realised, but the
damage was serious enough.  Some of the huts
were broken down; one or two of those nearest
to the stream had been washed away; the
defences at the bend almost obliterated; and
the barricade of trees at the entrance of the
nullah showed many gaps.  But the slope of the
ground and the depth of the channel had been
sufficient to carry off almost all the overflow from
the lake, and there seemed to be no danger of
the village on the higher ground at the north end
being flooded out.  The prisoners' hut on the
island had suffered nothing except from leaks in
the roof, and these Reinecke had at once set his
subordinates to repair.\par

The rain had ceased, and as soon as it was
possible to dig, Tom ordered his men to
reconstruct the damaged defences.  More trees were
packed into the barricades, the ditch outside it
was widened and deepened; the trenches on the
slopes were recut and strengthened, and a
communication trench was dug from each to the bed
of the nullah, so that their garrisons could be
reinforced at need, under cover from the enemy's
fire.  The trench and parapet at the bend were
also restored, and at each end, some twenty-five
feet above the bed of the nullah, a small
blockhouse of rocks was erected, in which half a dozen
men, through apertures left for rifle fire, could
enfilade any attacking party that advanced on
either bank of the stream.\par

Tom had hitherto made no attempt to
communicate with the British authorities beyond the
border.  He reflected that their hands were full,
and while he was in no immediate danger he
hesitated to embarrass them.  Now, however,
when it was clear that the Germans would make
a serious effort to deal with him, and major
operations were interrupted by the rains, he
resolved to try to get a message through to
Abercorn, explaining his position.  He wrote
on leaves from his pocket-book a brief account
of what he had been doing, made a copy, gave
the duplicated messages to two of the best
scouts from M'setu's contingent, and sent them
off on successive days.  The papers, which they
carried folded in their loin-cloths, were addressed
"The Commanding Officer, Abercorn."  A single
man should be able to cross the hills and the Neu
Langenburg road without much risk of being
caught.  The journey might take three or four
days, so that it would be at least a week before
an answer could be received, even in the most
favourable circumstances.\par

Several days passed, on most of which rain fell.
Feeling pretty sure that the enemy would not
attack in such weather, Tom took every possible
advantage of the breathing space, improving the
defences, drilling his men, and shooting game in
the neighbourhood, in order to eke out his fast
diminishing stores of food.  He also practised his
scouts in the system of shouting messages, and was
not much surprised to find that some of his posts
had been deserted: it was hardly to be expected
that M'setu's men, undisciplined negroes, would
show fortitude enough to remain at their stations
in pelting rain-storms.  But since it was of vital
importance that the scouting should be efficient,
he considered how best to surmount the very real
difficulty that had manifested itself.  After a good
deal of thought, he decided to reduce the number
of posts, retaining only those that commanded
the main routes, and to have these frequently
inspected by Mirambo or some other trustworthy
native.  With Mirambo he himself made a round
of the posts--a task that occupied him for two
days--and as the result of this personal visit
found himself able to devise a simplified scheme
that promised to be successful.\par

The outermost line of posts was established on
the hills north of the Neu Langenburg road, in
such spots that any movement on about twenty
miles of its course must be seen by at least one
of his men.  Taking this line as the base of a
triangle, and the mouth of the nullah as the apex,
he arranged for posts to be held along the sides,
and also on perpendicular lines to the sides from
the base.  While he thus somewhat narrowed the
area that was watched, he concentrated observation
on the quarters from which danger was most
to be expected, and, needing fewer men, was able
to give them shorter spells.\par

On returning one day from a shooting expedition,
he learnt that messages had been received
not long before from a scouting post near the
Neu Langenburg road.  The first message was
that an armed party had been seen marching from
the direction of Bismarckburg; the second, that
the party consisted of two white officers with a
number of askaris, and had struck into a track
which would lead past Reinecke's plantation to the
nullah.  One of the askaris carried a white flag.\par

"Parlementaires," thought Tom.  "They want
to negotiate?  Well, I must hear what they have
to say."\par

For a moment he thought of going out at the
head of a party of his men to meet the enemy;
but reflecting that he had no precise information
of their number, and that their object might be
to lure him from his defences, he decided to
remain behind the barricade.\par

Presently another message came through his
chain of scouts, announcing that the strangers had
just passed a post about ten miles from the nullah.
After some two hours and a half he learnt that
they were now within five miles.  Thereupon he
ordered his men to take up their allotted
positions behind the barricade and in the trenches,
and sent Mwesa to the nearest scouting post,
about two miles distant, to watch for the enemy's
coming, and to run back and tell him how many
they were.  Mwesa was the only negro whom he
could trust to form even an approximate estimate
of their number.\par

In due time the lad came back with the report
that the askaris were no more than twenty.
Reassured that no attack was intended by so small a
force, Tom awaited their arrival with composure.\par

"But they mustn't come too close," he thought,
"or they'll see too much."\par

He scribbled in German a note on a leaf from
his pocket-book--\par

"Mr. Willoughby presents his compliments,"
he wrote, "and has the honour to say that he,
with ten men, will meet the recipient of this note,
also with ten men, at the edge of the forest, three
hundred yards from his position.  Any attempt to
advance across the clearing will be resisted."\par

"Run and give that to the commanding
officer," he said to Mwesa, "and come back with
his answer."\par

"Him say no come back," said Mwesa, looking
uncomfortable.\par

"Not at all.  He won't prevent you.  Be quick."\par

The boy ran off, disappeared in the forest, and
in twenty minutes was seen speeding back again.\par

"You have an answer?" asked Tom.\par

"Him look at paper, den laugh and talk to
other man; me no savvy what say.  Den he tell
me all right."\par

"In English?"\par

"Yes, sah, he talk English same as me."\par

It was not long before a party of men emerged
from the forest beyond the clearing, and halted.
There were ten askaris, one of whom carried a
white flag; and in the tall German accompanying
them Tom recognised the officer who had been
his fellow-passenger on the {\itshape{Hedwig von Wissmann}}
months before.\par

Collecting the ten men whom he had already
chosen, Tom passed out through the barricade
and advanced to meet the German.\par

"Good day, Mr. Willoughby," said Major von
Rudenheim, saluting.  "You will remember me,
no doubt.  We were on board the {\itshape{Hedwig von
Wissmann}} together."\par

"I remember you, Major," replied Tom, a
little puzzled by this tone of friendliness; "but
I was not aware that I had come within your line
of vision."\par

"Oh yes, I saw you," returned the major with
a slight smile, "and I have heard a good deal
about you since.  But you have got yourself into
a very awkward position, young man."\par

He spoke in the tone a benevolent uncle might
have used towards a small boy.\par

"Yes, your people have found it awkward,"
said Tom, smoothly.\par

"You take me too literally, Mr. Willoughby.
But youth is often adventurous, and thoughtless;
you do not quite realise the consequences of your
rash actions.  It is a pity that a private quarrel
should have led you to take steps which bring
you into conflict with the military power.  The
outbreak of war, of course, made you a public
enemy; but if you had not been in such haste to
pay off old scores it would have been easy
to arrange for your departure into British
territory."\par

"I assure you, Major, what you call a private
quarrel had nothing whatever to do with my
action.  We will leave my private affairs out of
the question.  As you say, I became a public
enemy.  Well?"\par

"You do not understand, perhaps, that we
should be justified in treating you as a spy."  The
major's tone was not quite so friendly now.\par

"I don't understand what you are driving at,"
said Tom, bluntly.  "Hadn't you better come to
the point?"\par

A flicker of annoyance passed over the German's
face.  It vanished instantly, and when he spoke
again it was in the suave tones he had employed
at the beginning of the interview.\par

"I come to make a reasonable--a friendly
arrangement.  There are certain Germans, I
believe, in your hands.  I am not sure
whether----"\par

"To save time--I have a sergeant, two
privates, and Mr. Reinecke."\par

"Ah!  And also certain askaris----"\par

"Africans, not Germans."\par

"But in our service, therefore Germans.  Also
a number of natives who were being recruited for
our army--potential Germans.  Now, since it is
obvious that you cannot maintain your position
indefinitely, you will no doubt see the reasonableness
of the proposal I put to you, namely, that
you surrender the German subjects you hold as
prisoners, in exchange for a safe-conduct for
yourself and any twelve men you may select, to the
British lines."\par

"And the rest?  Besides the men, I have many
women and children.  What will you do with them?"\par

"That will be in the discretion of my superiors.
The non-combatants will no doubt return to their
employment, from which they were enticed away.
As for the able-bodied men, technically they are
mutineers and liable to be shot.  But in consideration
of their ignorance they may possibly be
pardoned and allowed to re-enlist."\par

"It is hardly a {\itshape{quid pro quo}}, is it?" said Tom.
"You must be aware that I could at any time
during the past two or three months have made
my way to the British lines with all my able-bodied
men without a safe-conduct.  You propose that I
should save my skin at the expense of handing
back those poor creatures to the slavery they have
been glad to escape from?"\par

"What are the niggers to you, Mr. Willoughby?
The war, {\itshape{ipso facto}}, has dissolved your partnership
with Mr. Reinecke.  Your interest in the plantation
and its workers has lapsed."\par

"Far from it: my interest in the workers is
greater than ever.  I enticed them away, you say;
and believing that, you invite me to betray them!
Upon my word, Major von Rudenheim, those
who sent you with an invitation like that must
have so low a standard of honour that I should
prefer not to trust to any assurances on their part."\par

"You impeach my honour, sir?" cried the
German, with an angry glare.\par

"I take it that you are obeying orders, Major,"
replied Tom, quietly.  "Those niggers, as you
call them, are under my protection: I say that
any one who proposes that I should abandon them
on the terms you offer holds {\itshape{my}} honour very
lightly.  I don't think there is anything more to
be said."\par

"Only this, sir.  You reject a reasonable offer:
I have not stated the alternative.  The niggers
are under your protection!  It will not serve
them.  They will be exterminated, and you----"\par

"Yes?"\par

The major laughed.\par

"You will fall--on the field of honour!" he
said with a sneer, "or be captured and shot."\par

And with that he turned on his heel and strode
off at the head of his men.\par


\vs{4}
\penalty-300%
\label{chapter-xviii-a-good-haul}%
\hypertarget{chapter-xviii-a-good-haul}{}%
\vspace*{50pt}\thispagestyle{empty}
{\noindent\interlinepenalty \@M\normalfont\Huge\bfseries%
{\noindent}
CHAPTER XVIII--A GOOD HAUL}

\unskip\vskip 40pt\nobreak

{\noindent}
The interview with Major von Rudenheim
left Tom soberly reflective.  There could
no longer be the least doubt that he was to be
attacked.  The attempt to come to terms with
him seemed to show that the Germans were now
under no illusions as to the strength of his
position, and wished to avoid operations which must
involve the employment of a larger force than the
objective, from a strictly military point of view,
warranted.  But their prestige was at stake
throughout the whole region.  The native tribes, always
restive under their galling yoke, would run out of
hand when it became generally known that the
German power was being set at defiance by an
Englishman with a handful of negroes, and that
Germans were held in captivity.  The menace of
a great rising of the blacks would grow increasingly
serious, and the higher authorities, having
proved the uselessness of light measures, would
now organise an expedition in strength.\par

Tom felt confident in his ability to hold his
own behind his defences, provided they were not
attacked by artillery; and the country between
the nullah and Bismarckburg, at all times difficult,
was now rendered so much more difficult by the
rains that the transport of guns would be a
formidable undertaking.  It might prove to be
impossible.  In that case the attack should fail.
Tom had under his command a hundred and
forty-seven able-bodied men, of whom a score
were trained askaris, some fifty Wahehe were
fairly efficient with the rifle, another thirty could
handle fire-arms well enough to do considerable
execution at short range, and the remainder were
expert with the spears they had made for
themselves.  Behind their fortifications, each man
would perhaps be equal to three outside.\par

On the other hand, the difficulties of the
defence were serious enough.  Provisions were
running perilously low; if the nullah were
besieged, the end must come in about ten days.
There was, further, the question of the wounded.
Casualties were bound to occur; the medical
stores brought from the plantation would be of
little use in dealing with gunshot wounds: there
were no surgical appliances whatever.  If Tom
had known beforehand what he was to learn before
many days had passed, he might have met Rudenheim's
offer with a counter-proposal, instead of
rejecting it outright.  New to warfare, he was
ignorant of what fighting with modern weapons
means; but he foresaw suffering, and felt some
uneasiness in contemplating a possible long casualty list.\par

It was time to dispatch another messenger to
Abercorn.  Neither of his former messengers had
returned; possibly neither had got through; but
with the crisis imminent it was right to put the
position clearly before the British authorities.  He
adopted the same plan as before: sent duplicate
notes on successive days, announcing his expectation
of attack, and stating his determination to
resist as long as his provisions lasted.\par

Feeling it unwise to leave the nullah himself,
he allowed Mirambo to lead short shooting
expeditions in the neighbourhood, to replenish the
larder.  He devoted all his own energies to the
maintenance and strengthening of his fortifications,
the drilling and exercising of the men, and the
allotment of duties to the non-combatants.  Of
these last every man, and many women, had their
definite tasks--to bring food and ammunition
to the fighting-posts, to remove and tend the
wounded, and so on.\par

His plan of defence was to post twenty men
on the cleft at the north end of the nullah, in
case the enemy should again attempt an entrance
by the "back door," and to employ all the rest in
the nullah itself.  Seventy men were told off to
hold the first line--the barricade and the trenches
on the flanks; the remainder, in support, were to
man the communication trench, which led to a
fold of the cliff face about a hundred and fifty
yards in the rear, and gave complete cover from
enemy fire.\par

Waiting for critical events always puts a strain
upon even the stoutest-hearted.  A schoolboy
dreads the interval between the "call-up" and
the headmaster's thrashing more than the
thrashing itself.  The soldier in the trenches knows
more of the agony of fear when he awaits the
word of command than when he is actually going
"over the top."  As day followed day, and no
message came through the chain of scouts, Tom
found constant activity the only sedative for his
overstrung nerves.\par

Two little incidents relaxed the tension.  One
morning, just as he was leaving his hut, he heard
a terrible shriek from the lake side.  Rushing
forward, he saw, near the brink, a woman waving
her arms frantically, and calling to a little toddling
child, who was wading in the shallow water towards
a bright flower a few yards away.  In an instant
Tom saw the cause of the mother's agitation.
Just beyond the glowing blossom, a few inches
above the surface, lay what appeared to be a log
of greenish wood.  Tom sprang into the water,
caught up the child, and darted back; and the
seeming log sank with a gurgle and disappeared.
Crocodiles had been rarely seen since the
occupation of the nullah; apparently they had been
scared away by the noise of so many people,
which, however, had now lost its terrors for them.
Tom gave the child back to his grateful mother,
and, using one of the few phrases in the Wahehe
tongue that he had picked up, bade the woman be
careful.\par

It was in the afternoon of the next day that one
of the messengers, sent out more than a week
before, returned: the other was never seen again.
The man was very proud of his success, and
exhibited a small brass rod given him as a reward
by the m'sungu in Abercorn.  Tom was more
interested to learn whether he had brought an answer
to his message, and the negro produced from
his loin-cloth a small dirty envelope.  Tearing it
open, Tom took out the still dirtier folded scrap
of paper, which he recognised at once as a leaf
from his own pocket-book.  One side bore his
message, now almost illegible; on the other he
read the few words--\par

\begin{description}
\item[{\itshape{{\normalsize{ Hold fast.}}}}] 

{\itshape{{\normalsize{ T. Burnaby, Major.}}}}\par
\end{description}


\vs{1}
{\noindent}
"He's short of paper, I suppose," Tom thought;
he learnt later that in the army a superior officer
writes his reply to a communication from a
subaltern on the back.  "But he might have said
a little more.  Doesn't promise anything.  Cold
comfort, Major Burnaby.  Yet it {\itshape{is}} comfort after
all.  He wouldn't say 'hold fast' if he didn't
think there was a chance.  Still, I'm glad I sent
a second message: hope he gets it."\par

Towards ten o'clock on the fifth morning after
the interview with Major von Rudenheim, Tom
was superintending work on the parapets of the
trenches when a message came from the nearest
of his scouting posts.  From hill to hill had been
shouted the news that a large column of white
men, askaris and porters, was marching along the
Neu Langenburg road from the direction of
Bismarckburg.\par

"At last!"\par

Tom's exclamation had something of relief,
from the strain of suspense; something of anxiety,
for what was to come.  It was not certain, of
course, that the nullah was the enemy's objective,
but he must act as if it were.  Within a few
minutes every man had gone to his allotted post.\par

The source of the message was a hill many
miles to the westward of the track by which
Rudenheim had come.  Two hours afterwards it
was reported that the column had reached that
track, but had halted in a glade beside the road;
the men had thrown themselves on the ground.\par

"They're taking a rest after their hilly march,"
thought Tom.  "Or perhaps they intend a night
attack."\par

But a few minutes later another message suggested
a different explanation.  From the further-most
eastern post came word that a smaller party
was marching from the direction of Neu Langenburg
westward.  It was formed mainly of porters,
with a number of askaris and two white men.
Was it not a fair inference that the junction of the
road with the northward track had been appointed
as rendezvous for both the columns, and that
either the one was before its time or the other
was late?\par

Tom made a rapid mental calculation,
congratulating himself on the personal knowledge of
the road he had obtained in the course of his
round of inspection of the scouting posts.  When
the second column was sighted (that is, only a
few minutes before he heard of it), it must have
been nearly thirty miles from the rendezvous.
Now, the spot where the first column had halted
was not the point on the Neu Langenburg road
that was nearest to the nullah.  Some ten miles
east of it there was a scouting post closer to the
nullah by about five miles; but the way to it,
though shorter, was much more arduous, and for
that reason was not at all likely to be chosen by
the Germans as the route to their objective.  It
seemed to Tom that by a rapid march with a light
force he might reach this spot on the road before
the eastern column, and, given favourable
circumstances, prevent this column from joining the other.
He had a rosy vision of snapping up the stores
it was conveying, with the result that the
threatened attack on the nullah would be at
least delayed, while his own resources would be
increased.\par

There were two risks to be taken into
consideration: the first, that the western column
might not await the arrival of the eastern before
resuming its march to the nullah; the second,
that the road between them would be so closely
patrolled as to render intervention impossible.
The scouts, however, had not reported the passing
of patrols; and as to the first risk, it seemed
unlikely that the officer in command would
make any further movement until his force was
complete.  The prize was great, in Tom's eyes
well worth the risk, and after a few minutes'
cogitation he determined to "put his fate to the touch."\par

Choosing forty of his best men to accompany
him, with Mwesa and two of M'setu's scouts, and
leaving Mirambo in charge at the barricade, he
started southward.  The route he must follow
led over very hilly country, covered in parts with
forest, through which it might sometimes be
necessary to cleave a way.  For this purpose he
had ordered some of his men to bring axes and
bill-hooks, though he hoped that the scouts,
knowing the district thoroughly, would find a
practicable track, and so avoid the delays which
cutting a path must involve.\par

It was fortunate that since the great storm the
rainfall had been light; otherwise much of the
ground would now have become swamp, and put
him at a disadvantage compared with the enemy
on the well-kept high road.  Tom had always
been known among his friends as a good
"foot-slogger," and, hardened as he now was by constant
exercise, he had no difficulty in keeping up with
his lithe and limber guides.  The party covered
the first twelve miles in less than three hours,
over a track that ran almost due south from the
nullah, and was very little obstructed.  Then,
however, they came into broken country, with
steeper ascents and descents and thicker vegetation,
where the pace was necessarily slackened.
Once or twice the men had to use their implements,
and Tom chafed at the delay; but he let
no sign of impatience escape him, and found a
few cheery words of praise a potent stimulus to
his willing negroes.\par

Presently they came to a hill-stream flowing
southward.  An idea struck Tom.\par

"Does this stream cross the high road?" he asked.\par

The scouts replied through Mwesa that it did.\par

"Then is there a bridge?"\par

He learnt that a bridge spanned the stream
some distance east of the post for which he had
been making.  The stream, which was much
swollen after a period of heavy rain, had cut a
deep and wide channel, and sometimes rose to
within an arm's-length of the bridge.  Now,
however, the rainfall for some days having been slight,
it was likely that the water was two men's height
below the trestles of which the bridge was made.\par

This information caused Tom to change his
objective.  Instead of continuing along the forest
track that led directly to the scouting post, he
followed the course of the stream, and in some
twenty minutes came in sight of the bridge far
below.  Calling a halt, he sent one of the men to
the scouting post on a hill-top invisible from his
present position, to inquire of the man stationed
there whether he had seen anything of the enemy's
columns, or of patrols.  The scout's report being
reassuring, Tom led his party down to the road,
through the brushwood, rank grass, and bushy
shrubs that lined the bank of the stream.\par

The ground within twenty yards of the road
had evidently been at some time cleared of the
taller growing vegetation, no doubt to destroy
cover.  But the lesser plants had sprung up only
the more thickly, furnishing safer cover even than
the larger shrubs and trees above.\par

Tom's first idea had been to have the bridge
hacked down.  This would have effectually checked
the march of the columns along the road, and the
stream was here so wide and deep, and its banks so
steep, that the enemy could not have crossed it until
the bridge had been repaired.  Second thoughts
raised an objection to this obvious measure.  The
column would almost certainly be preceded by
an advance guard, who would discover that the
bridge was broken and give warning.  The main
body would halt, and Tom would have no chance
of getting possession of the stores without a fight.
Ignorant of the strength of the column, he dared
not risk exposing his small force of comparatively
untrained men in the open.  Unless he should see
a fair prospect of dealing the enemy a "knock-out
blow," he would do much better to keep his
men out of sight, and remain content with having
prevented the two columns from joining forces
and thus delayed their advance on the nullah.
But this would be only partial success: something
more was wanted for complete satisfaction; and
an examination of the bridge suggested to Tom
what seemed a better way.\par

Having first sent a couple of scouts in each
direction along the road to guard against surprise,
he set three men with axes to cut nearly through
two of the piles supporting the bridge, one up,
the other down stream, just on the water line.  A
dozen others he sent a few yards along the stream
to weave two long, stout ropes from rushes and
creepers.  Expert at this work, the natives in
the course of an hour or so had completed two
serviceable ropes about thirty yards in length.
Tom tested them by means of an impromptu
tug-of-war; then, the axe-men having long
finished their part of the job, he himself attached
the ropes to the weakened piles by means of
bowlines in the notches and allowed them to sag into
the water.  At intervals he weighted them with
stones in order to keep them below the surface,
and carrying the free ends up stream, hid them in
the vegetation at the foot of the bank.  All these
operations near the bridge were carried out by
men wading in the water, in order that no tracks
on the ground should betray them to the enemy scouts.\par

Tom had only just completed his preparations
when the scouts he had sent eastward came
running back with news that the enemy column was
in sight.  There were two white officers, and
an innumerable company of porters and askaris
The negro's inability to estimate number was a
constant worry to Tom: anything above ten
might be reported as a host.\par

Withdrawing all his men about fifty yards up
stream, and posting them under cover of the
rushes, he gave them precise orders as to what
they were to do when he blew his whistle.  Until
then no one was to whisper or make the slightest
movement.  Each man held his rifle with bayonet
ready fixed.  When he had proved that all were
invisible from the road, Tom found a spot
where, concealed himself, he had a clear view of
the bridge.\par

He hoped that the period of waiting would not
be long, for stillness and silence taxed the negroes
more than anything else he could have demanded
of them.  Already there were signs of restlessness
among them when, about half an hour after they
had taken up their positions, he caught sight of
two figures some distance away, approaching
through the bush at the edge of the cleared space
skirting the road.  An urgent whisper reduced the
Wahehe to stillness again.  The two askaris came
on quietly, pausing now and again to peer into
the thickets beyond the clearing.  Just before they
reached the bridge they stepped into the road,
and were joined by two more askaris who had
emerged from the bush on the other side.  The
four men crossed the bridge together, separated
at the western end, and pursued their way in
couples as before.\par

A few minutes later four files of askaris
followed.  At a short interval came a connecting
file, and then the main body, which consisted of
two parties of askaris marching in fours, with a
gang of porters between them.  With each party
there was a German N.C.O.  Tom rapidly estimated
that the askaris numbered about sixty in all.\par

When the first party reached the bridge, they
broke step and formed two deep to cross.  Tom
waited until about twenty had gained the other
side, then blew his whistle.  The Wahehe sprang
to their feet.  Ten of them fired a volley at the
enemy who were upon the bridge, then charged
through the thin scrub upon those who had
crossed and, startled by the shots and the cries,
had wheeled round at the sharp order of their
sergeant.  Meanwhile twenty men, with Tom at
their head, had dashed straight towards the road
in the other direction until they had a clear view
of the second party beyond the porters, then
halted, fired one volley, and charged with the
bayonet.  At the same time, two groups of five
rushed to the spot where the ends of the ropes
lay hidden, seized them and hauled with a will.
The nearer pile collapsed; the farther held until
all ten men tugged at the same rope.  Then it
snapped like the other, and the whole central part
of the bridge fell with a crash into the stream,
carrying with it one or two of the rear files of the
askaris.\par

Surprise is halfway to victory.  Even European
troops could hardly have avoided confusion,
however short-lived, when suddenly beset at close
quarters by an unsuspected enemy.  The German
sergeant who had crossed the bridge hardly had
time to bring his men into line before the Wahehe,
yelling the war-cry of their tribe, were among
them.  They were severed from the other party
by the broken bridge and the crowd of panic-stricken
porters, who flung down their loads and
fled helter-skelter into the bush.  The sergeant
and one or two more stood firm and were cut
down; the rest turned and bolted across the
road, seeking safety in the woods.\par

Meanwhile the sergeant in command of the
second party, being farther from the bridge, had
had a few seconds longer to prepare to meet the
attack.  Before Tom reached him he had halted
his men, formed them up hurriedly, and ordered
them to fix bayonets.  But the time was all too
short.  The men were still fumbling when the
impetuous Wahehe at Tom's heels had surged
from the clearing on to the road.  Tom made
straight for the sergeant, and thrust at him with
his bayonet.  The German deftly parried the
stroke, but before he could himself take the
offensive Tom swung his rifle over and brought
the butt up swiftly against his opponent's chin.
The man fell like a log.  His askaris did not
await the touch of cold steel.  Some flung up
their hands, others took to their heels, the yelling
Wahehe panting behind them.  Tom became alive
to the danger of his own men scattering in the
pursuit and losing themselves in the forest.  With
loud blasts of his whistle he sounded the signal
for recall.  Some of the men obeyed instantly,
but many minutes had passed before all returned,
and the weapons of most of them bore witness to
the work they had been doing.\par

Tom lost no time in taking stock of the
situation.  A few of the askaris had been killed by
rifle-shots, a few by bayonets.  About twenty
were wounded, twelve so seriously that it was
clear they could not be moved.  Rather more than
twenty had surrendered.  One of the German
was killed, the other lay where he had fallen.  All
the rest of the column were scattered through
the bush.\par

Examining the loads dropped by the porters,
Tom found that about half consisted of food, half
of small-arm ammunition, both valuable booty.
He distributed the bales among the unwounded
prisoners and some of his own men, and sent
them off at once on the return march to the
nullah.  For the wounded he could do nothing.
He ordered those who were slightly injured to
revive the sergeant with a dash of water from the
stream, and to render first aid to their helpless
comrades, knowing that help would be forthcoming
from the western column as soon as
fugitives had reported the disaster.\par

By this time the last of the Wahehe had
rejoined, and Tom set off on the return journey,
soon overtaking the carriers.  He pressed the
pace as much as possible, though the risk of being
pursued was slight.  Late in the afternoon, tired
but jubilant, his men marched into the nullah,
amid exultant shouts from their fellows who
manned the defences and the non-combatants
who crowded about them as they conveyed their
spoils to the village.\par

Tom discovered that only three of his men
had been slightly wounded.\par

"Almost a bloodless victory," he said to
himself.  "What wonderful luck!"\par

But the negroes, discussing the affair far into
the night, did not speak of luck.  They talked of
"white man's medicine," and assured one another
that their particular white man had better
"medicine" than any one else in the world.\par


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{\noindent}
CHAPTER XIX--BELEAGUERED}

\unskip\vskip 40pt\nobreak

{\noindent}
Tom's first business was to examine his
spoils of war.  Besides a considerable
quantity of maize and other foods intended for
the askaris, there was a case containing coffee,
condensed milk, tinned fruits, biscuits, and a few
bottles of wine--articles which were very welcome
additions to his private larder.  Still more
welcome were the boxes of ammunition.  One small
case held a couple of dozen metal objects whose
use he did not know; but unscrewing the top of
one of them he saw what he took to be
combustible material of some kind, and confirmed his
guess with a lighted match.  These flares, he
thought, might prove very useful in case of a
night attack.\par

A commander's chief preoccupation, perhaps,
is to divine the intentions of the enemy.  What
would the column from Bismarckburg do?  Its
officers had no doubt learnt within an hour or
two what had happened to the eastern column,
and it seemed probable that the disaster would
have deranged their plans.  In the course of the
afternoon Tom received a message from the scout
who had been stationed on the hill overlooking
the enemy's halting place.  The man reported
that a number of the askaris had climbed the
hill on different sides, and he had withdrawn to
the next post northward.  Tom guessed that the
German commander had suspected the presence
on the hill of scouts who had given him away,
and had wisely determined to get rid of them.
The post having been thus abandoned, the
enemy's movements could not be known at the
nullah until they had come within sight from the
next post.  That, however, was more than twenty
miles away, and Tom expected to receive warning
of their approach in ample time to prepare for
them.  He conjectured that they would make no
move until they had replaced the supplies of which
they had been deprived.\par

He was not one to sit with folded hands, idly
waiting.  Next day, taking advantage of his
largely increased stock of ammunition, he spent
a good many hours in giving his men rifle practice.
Owing to the nature of the position, firing, when
the attack came, was likely to be at point blank
range, so that it was unnecessary to instruct the
mass of the natives in the mysteries of adjusting
sights.  But in view of the possibility of having to
fall back up the nullah, he gave special
instruction in long range firing to a score of the men
who had had former experience with firearms.\par

More than once he had wished for the
companionship of a man of his own race.  Mirambo
was a devoted lieutenant, but consultation with
him could only be carried on through Mwesa,
and his range of ideas was as limited as the boy's
command of English.  Tom felt the lack of an
equal, a man of like upbringing and education,
with whom he might have had those long and
intimate talks in which mind reacts on mind with
mutual helpfulness.  More than ever he wished
it now.  An advancing enemy should be harassed;
but Tom dared not leave the nullah himself, and
neither Mirambo nor any other native had the
cool judgment and the self-control necessary in
the commander of even a disciplined force, much
more in one who had only half-trained negroes
under his leadership.  Pitted against well-drilled
askaris under capable German officers, the Wahehe
would be hopelessly overmatched; they
would almost certainly be outflanked and cut off,
and Tom could not afford to lose men.  Under
a white man the risks would not have been so
great.  But it is idle to long for the impossible,
and Tom realised that the only safe course was to
keep the men with him.  He gave orders to his
scouts to fall back upon the nullah when the
enemy advanced, but slowly, and noting their
progress from point to point.\par

It was on the third day after the little action at
the bridge that his furthermost scout reported
the enemy were on the move.  They had marched
two miles along the track from the spot on which
they had encamped beside the Neu Langenburg
road.  There was a great host of askaris, a great
host of porters, and several white men.  Some of
the porters were dragging a long green bottle
on wheels.\par

A long green bottle on wheels!\par

Tom felt a sinking at heart.  What could this
be but a field gun?  The hosts of askaris did
not dismay him: their numbers were, no doubt,
exaggerated by the natives as usual; but he
recognized that his barricade of trees would be
a poor defence against shell-fire.  There was little
time to improvise adequate protection; but he
set almost the whole of his men to work at once
in digging a deep trench a few yards behind the
barricade.\par

At intervals during the rest of the day came
further reports of the enemy's progress.  Their
advance was slow; it was clear that they could
not reach the nullah before nightfall, and after
their long march they would not make an
immediate attack.  Leaving a strong guard at the
barricade, Tom went to his hut to fortify himself
with sleep for what the next day might bring
forth.  But he found it impossible to rest.  Now
that the critical moment was approaching, his
mind went over and over the situation.  Had
he left undone anything that might have been
done?  What would be the effect of shell-fire on
his men--aye, and on himself?  What were the
enemy's plans?  Would they, after battering down
his outer defences, make a fierce charge into the
nullah, relying on the defenders' demoralisation
by the bombardment?  Thinking over these and
other questions, he felt that he had done all he
could: the rest was on the knees of the gods.\par

Very early next morning he made a round of
inspection, then issued through Mwesa his final
orders.  At the first sign of hostile action the
men were to take up their allotted positions.
He warned them that they must expect something
worse than rifle bullets; but none were to
leave the trenches without permission.\par

To give notice of the enemy's approach, he
had posted scouts on the top of the sides of
the nullah.  But the first intimation came not
from them, but from the enemy himself.  About
midday there was a dull boom in the south.  A
few seconds afterwards a shell burst with a
shattering explosion on the hill face.  A cry of
astonishment and fear broke from some of the
Wahehe; but Tom, in the centre of the trench
with Mwesa at his side, calmed them by asking
whether they supposed the shells would destroy
the sides of the nullah.  The response was an
outburst of mocking laughter.  It was a big
noise, said the men; but the result had been
only the fall of broken branches and fragments
of rock.  All was well.\par

The bombardment was continued and maintained
steadily throughout the day.  Some shells
fell harmlessly on the steep sides of the nullah,
others in the stream or among the bushes some
distance up, others on the clearing outside.  One
struck the barricade, scattering boughs and twigs
and making a gap; but none entered the trenches,
and no man was hit.  By the end of the day the
natives had become indifferent to the bombardment,
laughing and joking as they watched the
smoke and the splinters which did them no harm.
With sunset the shelling ceased, and movement
in the lower part of the nullah became once more
possible.  So far, none of the enemy had been
seen, and Tom wondered how the gunners had
been able to range with even approximate
accuracy on their unseen target.  He never knew
that Major von Rudenheim had not considered
the bearing of a flag of truce inconsistent with
the taking of careful measurements, by means
of which he had fixed on several spots in the
forest whence the nullah might be shelled at
known ranges.\par

It seemed to Tom hardly likely that the enemy
would attempt a night attack before they had
ascertained how much damage their gun had
done.  Nevertheless, he kept a large number of
men under arms all night, relieving them every
four hours.  Two of the askaris were selected
to light the captured flares and throw them over
the barricade if the enemy made a move.  In the
middle of the night Tom snatched a few hours'
sleep, leaving Mirambo in command; and when,
shortly before dawn, on returning to his post,
he learnt that no sounds had been heard from
beyond the clearing, he felt sure that not even
a reconnaissance had been attempted, or it would
have been detected by the negroes' sharp ears.\par

It was a misty, drizzly morning, and the trees
at the edge of the forest two hundred yards
south of the nullah loomed through the murk
only as a blurred mass.  Tom gave orders to his
scouts, before they climbed to their watch-posts
above, to be specially vigilant.  About seven
o'clock a shell burst just behind the trench, and
three of his men were slightly injured by
splinters.  The fact that the shell exploded before
the boom of the gun was heard, showed that the
gunners had drawn nearer during the night.
This was the opening of a bombardment that
continued for about three hours.  Again little
damage was done, most of the shells falling many
yards behind the barricade.\par

Suddenly the firing ceased.  The scouts,
sharp-eyed though they were, had reported no
movement among the trees, when there came the shrill
blast of a whistle.  Tom had posted himself with
his men at the barricade, and he was just able to
see, through the mist, a compact line of askaris
break from cover.  There was no attempt at
skirmishing; the enemy rushed straight across
the clearing towards the mouth of the nullah.
Twenty yards behind them came a second line,
and with these Tom saw the white helmet of a
German officer.\par

He had given orders that no man was to fire
until he sounded his whistle; but it was too much
to expect that all his negroes, in the excitement of
what was to many of them their first action, would
exercise the self-control of disciplined troops.
Only one of them, however, let off his rifle, and
the single shot, fired at random, was hailed with
a derisive yell by the askaris.  Tom waited until
they were half-way across the clearing; then he
blew his whistle.  Along the whole length of the
barricade burst a shattering volley, not perfectly
in time, but aimed low, as Tom had instructed.
At so short a range the effect was inevitable.  The
first line of the assailants was broken; groans
mingled with the shouts; the survivors wavered.
The German non-commissioned officer from
behind ran among them, threatening them with his
revolver, and under this stimulus they charged
forward, with the second line at their heels.\par

Now Tom gave the signal for a second volley.
The enemy were barely fifty yards away.  Many
of them dropped; some flung themselves on the
ground.  The few who struggled on found
themselves baulked by the unsuspected moat; and the
German having fallen, and no supports being at
hand, they turned and fled.  Before they reached
the cover of the trees another storm of bullets
swept upon them.\par

The Wahehe gave rein to their jubilation.
They shouted, pranced, slapped their thighs.
Some wished to dash out from the barricade in
pursuit of the enemy; but Tom sternly ordered
them to stand to attention.  He was as much
pleased as they were that the first assault had
failed; unlike them, he knew that this was only
the beginning of things.  But it was of good
omen for the future.  Brief though the
engagement had been, it had weakened the enemy in
numbers, whether seriously Tom, ignorant of
their reserves, could not tell.  It had encouraged
his own men; best of all, it had proved their
steadiness.  The three shots they had fired were
all that their magazines contained; now that he
could trust them not to waste ammunition, he
could allow them to keep their magazines full.\par

For more than an hour there was no sign of
a renewal of the attack.  Then, however, the
bombardment was resumed.  It would appear that
while the defenders' attention was wholly taken
tip with repelling their assailants, some of the
enemy, unseen in the rear, must have "spotted"
for the gun, for the shells now began regularly
to pierce the barricade, exploding on impact,
and tearing away masses of the leafy boughs.
Crouching at the bottom of the muddy trench,
the Wahehe suffered no hurt except bruises and
abrasions from splinters of wood and metal;
and Tom resolved to have the breaches in the
barricade repaired during the night.\par

But nightfall did not bring a cessation of the
bombardment.  Every few minutes throughout
the night the shells cut new gaps.  Work was
impossible.  Tom guessed that the enemy's object
was not merely to prevent repairs, but to wear the
defenders out by breaking their rest and keeping
them constantly on the watch.  In one way,
however, the persistent bombardment was a source
of satisfaction to him.  While the shells continued
to fall, there was no likelihood that the enemy
would again assault.  The prospect of a night
attack had caused him much anxiety, for the
negro's morale is never at its best in the dark;
further, in darkness and confusion the weight of
numbers would tell heavily against him.\par

Tom knew nothing about artillery, and began
to feel a certain contempt for the gun, so slight
was the material damage done by its shells.  It
was not, however, a field gun, but a small
mountain gun, more easily transportable than a larger
weapon.  After the bombardment had continued
for some hours neither he nor the men were
much disturbed by the shell bursts, and he felt
more and more confident of his ability to hold his own.\par

But when daylight came again he discovered
that the enemy had had another purpose in
their shelling.  The bombardment continued.
The scouts from their high posts above reported
that they saw men's heads in the ground on the
further side of the clearing.  Unable to make out
what they meant, Tom climbed the side of the
nullah under cover of the bushes until he reached
the trench, and cautiously looked out across the
open space beyond the barricade.  Some thirty
yards in advance of the edge of the forest, on the
level of the ground, he saw the heads of several
askaris moving up and down.  At one moment
a dozen heads were in sight, the next some of
them disappeared, only to bob up again a few
seconds later.\par

"By George, they're digging," he said to himself.\par

Quite ignorant of all military operations except
those simple manoeuvres learnt in the course of
field days with his school cadet corps, he was at
first at a loss to understand why the enemy were
digging a trench which was apparently to extend
from the forest to the nullah.  He had perhaps
heard the word sap, but it conveyed nothing to
his mind.  It was not long, however, before he
guessed the meaning of this unlooked-for
movement.  The enemy were digging a means of
approach by which they would avoid the
inevitable losses of a rush across the open, and the
bombardment during the night had been designed
partly to cover the sounds of their tools.\par

Watching intently, he noticed that the direction
of the enemy's trench was not a straight line
towards the barricade, but a series of short zigzags,
obviously to minimise the risk of interference by
enfilading fire.\par

"I ought to try to stop that little game," he thought.\par

He lifted his rifle, and took a shot at one of
the moving heads.  Instantly they all sank down;
whether he had hit he could not tell; and a
fusillade burst from the trees on the other side of the
clearing.  For some minutes he saw no more of
the diggers; then a head and shoulders showed
for a moment, a little nearer than the nearest
head had been before.\par

"I can't stop them, apparently," he thought,
"but I can delay them."\par

Hurrying down to the trench behind the
barricade, he sent a dozen of his best marksmen,
including a couple of the askaris, to the position
he had left, with orders to fire at the diggers
whenever they appeared.  At their first shots
there was another fusillade from the forest; then
an interval of about a quarter of an hour during
which the enemy was silent, though Tom's men
continued to snipe.  After that the enemy, having
located the position of the trench, began sniping
in turn; but the men were so well hidden that
they suffered no loss.  Presently, however, a shell
burst a few yards above the trench, scattering
splinters upon its occupants; and a few minutes
later another shell fell plump on the parapet at
the northern end, killing two men and wounding
several.  Tom at once withdrew the snipers from
their position, and sent them into the similar
trench on the other side of the nullah.  From this
they sniped for a considerable time before they
were again detected, and when shells began to fall
there also, Tom removed the men to comparative
safety in the bed of the nullah.  The wounds
inflicted by the shells were so severe that he did
not feel justified in exposing his willing soldiers
to injuries which he was unable to deal with
satisfactorily.\par

The sniping being thus put an end to, and a
sortie being out of the question, Tom had to
reconcile himself to the inevitable.  The
bombardment slowed down, either because the enemy
were satisfied that it had crushed opposition, or
maybe to save ammunition.  Several times during
the day Tom went up to his observation post,
and noted the progress of the zigzags.  The sap
was so narrow that the enemy would have to
advance in single file, and he thought his men
behind the barricade would have an easy task in
shooting them down when the attack came.\par

Next morning, however, he saw with
something like dismay that the enemy had dug a
trench across the clearing, parallel with the
barricade, and about eighty yards from it.  The full
meaning of their work was now clear to him.
They would reach the trench by means of their
zigzag path.  When the word was given, they
would swarm out, and though their first wave
must suffer from the defenders' fire, the distance
they had to cover was so short, and they could
be so safely reinforced, that they might
overwhelm the defence by sheer weight of numbers.
Some of the survivors of the first attack had come
near enough to the barricade to see the moat, and
no doubt, when the enemy attacked a second
time, they would be prepared to meet that not
very formidable obstacle.\par

All that day Tom anxiously awaited the assault.
After a quiet morning, the gun opened fire, and
for two hours pounded the barricade, until it was
breached in many spots.  When the shelling
ceased Tom expected the attack to follow
immediately; but minute after minute passed, and
his scouts gave no sign of any movement among
the enemy.  Taking advantage of this inaction,
Tom set some of the men to fill up the gaps in
the barricade, but they had no sooner started work
than the enemy's snipers, unseen among the trees,
began to pick them off.  It was clear that the
issue of the struggle would depend on the fighting
capacity of the men, and not on the strength of
the defences.\par

For the past two days the weather had been
dull but dry, and Tom found himself longing for
a downpour of rain, which would flood the enemy's
approaches.  His anxieties were the greater through
his ignorance of their numbers.  Since the first
attack he had seen none of them except the
sappers; whether the men biding their time in
the forest were scores, hundreds, or even
thousands he was utterly unable to guess.  If he had
known the German's contempt for "cannon-fodder"
he might have suspected that their
numbers were not very great, for a German officer
with large resources would hardly have drawn off
at the first check.\par

Darkness closed down upon the nullah.  Tom
dared not leave his post, weary though he was.
Lying on a heap of twigs he waited, wondering
what the night would bring forth.\par


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{\noindent}
CHAPTER XX--RAISING THE SIEGE}

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{\noindent}
Midnight passed: the still hours stole
on; and Tom was dozing when Mwesa roused him.\par

"Noise dis way, sah," said the boy.\par

Tom sprung up.  From the direction of the
forest came slight sounds.  The enemy were on
the move.  He sent to the trenches above the
men detailed to hold them: the rest he ordered
to their posts behind the barricade.  Their
movements were silent.\par

The sounds from without were so faint that it
was clear the enemy hoped for a surprise.
Presently they ceased altogether, and Tom guessed
that the men had assembled in their trench and
only awaited the word.  At each end of the
barricade he had placed an askari with flares and
matches.\par

The silence was brief.  Suddenly a whistle
sounded.  The air was rent with a great shout as
the enemy askaris leapt from the trench and
surged forward towards the barricade.  Instantly
Tom gave a signal; two blazing flares soared
over the barricade and fell on the ground beyond,
lighting up a wide space around them.  Peering
through a gap, Tom saw the line of black men
pressing on.  Some carried axes, others oblong
hurdles--pontoons for throwing across the moat.
Only a few seconds after the signal for the attack
had been given, another whistle cut the air.  From
the barricade and the trenches above rifles flashed,
and there were gaps in the ranks of the assailants.
In the pressure of a moment like this regular
volleys were impossible: each man fired as fast as he could.\par

In spite of their losses the enemy pushed on
with scarcely a check.  They had not yet fired a
shot.  Some crossed the moat with flying leaps
and began to hack at the barricade with their axes.
Others rushed over on the hurdles, and thrusting
their rifles into the gaps, fired at random.  The
defenders here, having emptied their magazines,
lunged at the foremost assailants with their
bayonets, while the men in the raised trenches
kept up a hot fire on the supports rushing up
behind.  But the stream seemed never to slacken.
If a man fell back from the barricade, another took
his place.  A big askari forced his way through
a gap, and wounded two men before he was
transfixed by Mirambo's bayonet.  Almost before the
bayonet could be withdrawn others of the enemy
came through at the same spot, and Mirambo and
the men about him found themselves engaged in
a fierce hand-to-hand struggle.  The same thing
happened at many parts of the defences, and
though for every man who got through two or
three had been hurled back into the moat or
among their comrades, it was clear that by
pressure of numbers the Wahehe must soon be
overwhelmed.\par

Tom created a temporary lull in the attack by
emptying his revolver on the largest group of
the askaris.  The flares having now gone out,
he took advantage of the darkness to sound the
signal for withdrawal, and his men, obedient to
their training, rushed back into the trench and
reloaded.  From beyond the barricade the enemy
were pouring a hot fire upon the higher trenches,
and Tom knew by the sounds that there were
still large reserves to deal with.  Coming to the
conclusion that the position at the entrance of the
nullah could not be held much longer, he sent
the greater part of his force to take up new
positions at the bend, retaining a few to fight a
rearguard action.  But it appeared either that the
first ranks of the enemy were exhausted, or that
they had had orders not to push forward into the
nullah at once after the entrance had been won.
Their officers, who had not yet come into view,
probably suspected that the nullah might have
many traps and pitfalls for their men in the
darkness, and reckoned on an easy conquest in daylight.
At any rate there was no immediate pursuit, and
within half an hour Tom had withdrawn all his
men into the trench at the bend.\par

A few minutes afterwards a flame burst out at
the entrance, spreading across the nullah from
side to side.  The enemy had set fire to the
shattered barricade.  None of them were visible
in the glare: it seemed that, content with having
forced the outer defence, the main body had
had returned to their trench to await the dawn,
now near at hand.\par

When Tom numbered his men, he found that
thirteen were missing, and some thirty were
wounded, many of them lightly.  He felt a pang
at the thought that some of the thirteen were
lying seriously wounded on the field, but it was
impossible to search for them.\par

He realised that he was now in the last ditch.
If the enemy once rounded the bend, the village
on the high ground a quarter of a mile beyond
would be exposed to their fire, and for the sake
of the non-combatants it would be necessary to
yield.  True, given time, another trench might
be dug across the nullah, and the enemy's advance
delayed again there; but his men were too
weary to start digging at once, and, in any case,
it was unlikely that the work could be completed
in the short hour before dawn.  There was
nothing to be done but to hold the trench as long
as possible, and inflict such losses on the enemy
that they would be compelled to await reinforcements
before attempting a final assault.  They
might even be satisfied with having captured the
entrance, and leave the rest to time and famine.
Escape was impossible, for, knowing of the "back
door," they would certainly take care to block
exit that way, which could easily be done by
posting a few men at the head of the narrow cleft.\par

What hope was there of relief from the British
border?  In reply to his note a Major Burnaby
had bidden him "hold fast," a message that
seemed to hold some slight promise of help.
Would that help come in time?  If the enemy
were in sufficient strength, a few hours might
see the defence overwhelmed and the little
community at the mercy of the conquerors.  How
many days was it since he had received Major
Burnaby's message?  Three?--or four?  He
could not tell.  He had lost count of time.  So
obsessed had he been with the problems of the
defence that he had given scarcely a thought to
what might have been passing in the village.
Moses had kept the fighting men supplied with
food, sending down carriers under cover of night.
The men on guard at the cleft had reported that
all was well, and the single sentry who kept
watch on the island prison had sent word that
the firing had at first caused some excitement
among the prisoners.  They had grouped
themselves on the shore, gazing down the nullah,
talking to one another--all but Reinecke, who
had stood apart from the rest, and sometimes
walked up and down with quick impatient
footsteps, twirling his long white moustache.  Tom
had not seen how the sound of the shells had
caused the women and children to huddle
together and sit cowering and moaning in their
huts.  He had not heard their wails when word
came that such-and-such were dead, nor their
croons of pity and tenderness as they did their
little best for those who were wounded.  All
his thoughts were centred on the one pressing
problem: how to hold out, to wear down the
enemy, to gain time.\par

When morning dawned he looked anxiously
down the nullah.  Its downward slope enabled
him to survey its whole length to the entrance
without unduly exposing himself.  He saw a few
figures moving about where the barricade had
been, but between him and them none of the
enemy was in sight.  The vegetation on either
side of the stream, growing to the bases of the
precipitous sides, would shelter hundreds: had
any of them crept up towards him under this
cover during the night?  He could not tell;
nor dared he send out scouts to reconnoitre.\par

Presently he saw that the men at the entrance
had been joined by two white officers.  The
Germans, who had kept in the background while
the askaris fought at the barricade, had now
come forward to inspect the position and direct
the further operations.  Their intentions were
soon made manifest.  There was a burst of
smoke from the middle of the burnt barricade,
and a shell exploded on the cliff-side just behind
the trench.  Tom at once withdrew his men to
the cover of the bushes beyond the bend, leaving
only a handful in the trench to fire if any of the
enemy showed themselves within effective range.
The bombardment thus opened did not greatly
disturb him.  The bend effectually protected his
men from harm, and the gun was not of a calibre
large enough to demolish the trench, of which
only a portion was visible to the gunners.  Some
damage was done to the parapet on the eastern
side, but the enemy's object was clearly to intimidate
the defenders, for the futility of their shots,
in a material sense, must have been clear to them.\par

It was clear, too, that they had learnt to respect
the quality of the defence opposed to them.
They gave no sign of an intention to advance
in the open.  The bombardment was vigorous
and sustained, but except for the few figures
moving about the gun at the entrance, not a man
of them was seen.  This inaction seemed ominous
to Tom.  He could not think that they
meditated another night attack, for, unfamiliar with
the ground, they would be at a disadvantage in
darkness.  Was it not more probable that,
relying on the bombardment to distract the defenders
and to drive them under cover, they were creeping
through the brushwood nearer and nearer to
the trench, and would by-and-by make a rush,
with the hope of profiting by surprise?  This
was the movement that he most dreaded, because
the result must depend absolutely on the numbers
opposed to him.\par

Just after mid-day the bombardment suddenly
ceased.  For a few minutes there was a breathless
silence in the nullah: nothing was heard but the
gurgling of the stream.  Then the storm broke.
From the bushes on each side, within a hundred
yards of the trench, burst a swarm of men at the
double.  Tom had already summoned his men to
their posts in the trench, and the masses of the
enemy had covered only a few yards when they
encountered a hail of lead from the parapet.  In
spite of many gaps in their crowded ranks they
dashed forward with ferocious yells, and pressed
the charge up to the very edge of the trench.
There, however, they came under fire from some
of the best marksmen, whom Tom had stationed
in the block-houses and also in the bushes on
higher ground in the rear.  They reeled under
the double fire; a few who sprang over the
parapet into the trench were bayoneted or clubbed;
the rest turned and fled panic-stricken into the
cover they had lately left with such confidence,
many of them falling to the shots of the
triumphant Wahehe.\par

In the silence that followed, Tom was startled
by sounds of firing from the north.  It flashed
upon him that the Germans had arranged a
simultaneous attack on the cleft.  The guard of twenty
men he had posted there, behind their barricades,
ought to be able to hold their own on ground so
favourable to them; but Tom at this moment felt
that he must see for himself how they were faring.
The repulse of the main attack gave him at least
a respite: he would not be absent more than
thirty or forty minutes; so leaving Mirambo in
command, he hurried up the nullah.\par

On the way he was met by Moses himself,
running to tell him that the men above had sent
word that the enemy was upon them, and asking
that the m'sungu would come to their assistance.
Knowing the nature of the ground they were
defending, Tom guessed that the support they
craved was rather moral than material.  He did
not care to send for reinforcements to Mirambo,
who might yet be hard pressed; but as he passed
through the village he collected half a dozen men
who had been slightly wounded in the first action,
and ordered them to follow him up the ladder.
Unknown to him they were joined by the armed
sentry who patrolled the lake-side opposite the
island.  The man afterwards explained that he
was tired of watching prisoners, and wished to
have his share in useful work.\par

Tom found, as he had expected, that the men
guarding the cleft had no reason to be alarmed.
Posted behind the first of the barricades
commanding a difficult passage along which the enemy
must come in single file, they could have held the
position indefinitely.  It appeared that the sight
of a white officer among the askaris who had
emerged from the end of the ravine had struck
them with dread: how could black men stand
against a m'sungu?  They hailed Tom's arrival
with shouts of delight.  Being for once
unaccompanied by Mwesa, he was unable to cheer them
with words; but he managed to make them
understand by signs that he trusted them, stayed
with them for a few minutes while they fired at
the enemy, who showed no eagerness to risk
the perils of advancing against a position so
formidable; then, confident that all was safe in
this quarter, at any rate for a time, hastened back
to where the danger threatened.\par

Just before he came to the rock from which
the lake was visible, he heard shouts of alarm and
excitement from below.  Surely the enemy could
not already have broken through?  There had
been no firing.  Hurrying down at some risk of
a fall, he halted at the rock in amazement at an
extraordinary drama that was being enacted.\par

Between the island and the shore a crazy raft
was rocking in the water, under the paddles, rough
branches of trees, wielded in desperate haste by
the German prisoners.  From Tom's high position
the reason of their frantic exertions was only
too apparent.  He could see far into the clear
water of the lake.  About the raft it was alive
with crocodiles.  The hideous reptiles swam
round and round, sheering off where the water
was churned by the paddles, but pushing their
snouts on to the edges of the raft where the
paddlers stood.\par

The scene would have been laughable but for
a possible element of tragedy.  The raft was so
slight, evidently so hastily put together, that it
dipped now on one side, now on another, under
the strokes of the paddles or the pressure of the
crocodiles' snouts.  Water poured over it.  The
men dared not shift their positions, for every
moment threatened to make it capsize.  Divided
between anxiety to gain the shore and the urgency
of beating off their horrid foes, they used their
futile paddles, now for propelling the raft, now
for smiting the reptiles' heads.\par

"The madmen!" thought Tom.  "How do
they suppose they can escape?  But where is the
sentry?"\par

Women and children, shouting and screaming,
thronged the shore, but there was no armed man
among them.\par

Tom watched the scene as if fascinated.  The
positions of the men on the raft had evidently
been arranged with care to ensure its balance,
which was disturbed from moment to moment by
the violence of their blows.  In spite of all, they
were making progress towards the lake-side.
Suddenly, in a moment, Fate said her last word
to Curt Reinecke.  Intending to strike a snout
that had just slid on to the raft almost at
his feet, he overreached himself, the raft tilted,
and he was in the water.  The shriek that
rose from the unhappy man rang long in Tom's
ears.  At the spot where he had fallen there
was a furious swirl as the crocodiles crowded
together, and disappeared into the depths of the lake.\par

For a moment Tom was paralysed with horror.
Then collecting himself, he hastened down to
the lake, and summoned the women to assist him
in launching the large raft on which food was
taken to the prisoners.  Reinecke's fate had
given the others a short respite.  Before the
reptiles returned to the surface the Germans had
transferred themselves from the one raft to the
other, and pale, cowed, trembling mortals, were
paddled to the shore.\par

Tom had no time to question them, or to
inquire about the missing sentry.  The sound of
scattered shots drew him at his best speed towards
the trench.  When he reached it, he found that
his men were sniping at individual askaris who
were hurriedly making their way, not up, but
down the nullah.  Surely the enemy were not
withdrawing?\par

"Me hear shots long way off, sah," said Mwesa,
running towards his master excitedly.\par

Tom thrilled from top to toe.\par

"Are you sure?" he asked.\par

"Sure nuff, sah.  Mirambo he say no: old
ears, sah, no can hear, same as me."\par

Tom wondered.  Could it be true?  Was the
long-expected relief coming at last?  Could there
be any other explanation of distant firing?  He
strained his ears for the welcome sound.  He
gazed towards the end of the nullah.  There
were certainly signs of activity there.  And then
came the sound that could not be mistaken.
Somewhere to the south rapid rifle fire was
going on.\par

For a few moments all other feelings were
submerged in overpowering thankfulness.  Then
the possibilities of the situation struck upon his
mind.  It was clear that some of the enemy had
been withdrawn to meet this attack in their rear.
Had they all gone?  Had the conquest of the
nullah been wholly abandoned?  That must be
put to the test.\par

He sent Mirambo out with a dozen
sharpshooters to feel his way down the nullah.
Stealing along under cover of the bushes, the
men had gone nearly two hundred yards before
the sound of shots reached the trench.  A scout
hurried back to report that the whole of the
enemy force was retreating.  Tom instantly
collected all his remaining fighting men, and
led them down after Mirambo's party.\par

Presently another scout came with the news
that the enemy had not all left the nullah, but
had manned the old trench just within the
barricade.  Tom felt his way forward cautiously
through the bush, and overtook Mirambo where
he had halted about a hundred yards from the
trench.  Southward the crackle of rifle-fire was
growing louder and more distinct.  It would be
a pity to lose an opportunity of routing the
troops who still remained in the nullah, dispirited
as they must be by the knowledge that a fight
was going on in their rear.\par

Tom jumped at the chance of employing
against the enemy the manoeuvre which the
enemy had unsuccessfully employed against him.
He ordered the greater part of his men to creep
through the trees and bush on each side, taking
care to avoid making the least noise, and to halt
when they came within fifty yards of his old
trench, now manned by the enemy.  At the same
time, to divert attention, he sent word to the
men he had left at the bend to fire a shot
occasionally, aiming at the cliffs.\par

When all was ready he gave the signal, and
with a vociferous whoop eighty men sprang from
their places of concealment and followed him in
a whirlwind dash upon the trench.  The askaris
there, taken aback by this sudden charge of an
enemy who had hitherto stood wholly on the
defensive, had no ears for the commands of their
German lieutenant.  Without pausing even to
fire one volley, they sprang out of the trench,
sprinted over the ruins of the barricade, leapt the
moat or crossed by the hurdles, and fled helter-skelter
into the forest, flinging away their arms
as they ran.\par

Tom's men dashed after them in a flush of
enthusiasm; among the pursuers none were
nimbler or more excited than the captured
askaris.  Tom shouted to them to take the fugitives
prisoners, and not to use their weapons except
against those who resisted.  As for himself, he
put every ounce of what little energy remained
to him into the chase of the German officer, who,
finding himself deserted by his men, had shown
a clean pair of heels.  Tom was up with him
before he gained the forest.  The German, aware
that he was outrun, suddenly swung round and
half raised his arm to fire his revolver.  But he
was a shade too late.  Tom hurled himself upon
him with all the impetus gained in his sprint
across the clearing, struck the revolver from his
hand with his left fist, and with his right dealt
the officer a smashing blow on the chin that sent
him headlong backward with a crash.\par

Leaving him to be picked up by some of the
older and less fleet-footed of the negroes, Tom
hurried on towards the sounds of firing.  He
had no need to go far.  Fugitives from the
nullah had reached their comrades, who were
falling back before a force of white men and
Rhodesian police advancing on a wide front.
Realising that they were between two fires, the
enemy gave up the hopeless struggle, and
scattered to right and left, seeking safety in the
pathless forest.  The firing ceased, and within
ten minutes of leaving the nullah Tom was
grasping the hand of a tall bronzed Englishman
who bore a major's crown upon his sleeve.\par

"Tom Willoughby, I suppose," said that officer,
looking with a quizzical smile into the tired brown
eyes on a level with his own.\par

"You're Major Burnaby?"\par

"Yes.  A nice little scoop, eh?  Now, we've
no time to lose.  Take me to your nullah.  Your
people must trek at once.  We've cut the wires
on the Neu Langenburg road.  Two detachments
half a mile apart are holding a place clear
for our crossing.  With luck we'll get through
before they send up troops from Bismarckburg.
But we must hurry."\par


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{\noindent\interlinepenalty \@M\normalfont\Huge\bfseries%
{\noindent}
CHAPTER XXI--WILLOUGHBY'S SCOUTS}

\unskip\vskip 40pt\nobreak

{\noindent}
An hour later a singular procession marched
southward through the forest.  At the
head went a number of Msetu's scouts, with an
advanced guard of strapping Rhodesian planters,
young and middle-aged.  Behind these, a
detachment of Rhodesian native police, their broad
black faces shining.  Then, a happy throng of
women and children, each bearing a bundle.
These were followed by a number of white men
and black, all wearing bandages about an arm or
a leg or the head.  Then, twenty or more couples
of native soldiers with the Red Cross upon their
sleeves, carrying field ambulances on which lay
still, bandaged figures, white and black.  Next,
four Germans, among whom the stiff bulky form
of Major von Rudenheim was conspicuous, and
thirty odd askaris--prisoners guarded by
Rhodesian police.  Then Major Burnaby, with Tom
Willoughby, Mwesa in close attendance behind.
Then a large body of native porters, stepping
lightly under the heavy burdens on their heads.
Following these marched the whole body of the
Wahehe fighting men, led by Mirambo; six
of them drew a mountain gun; and finally, at
an interval, the rearguard of British planters,
volunteers in the service of the Empire.\par

There is no need to relate the details of their
uneventful journey.  Next day, in a pelting
rainstorm, they crossed the Neu Langenburg road,
where their numbers were increased by two small
detachments of Rhodesian police under British
officers, whose watch upon the road had not been
molested.  Late on the third day the procession,
weary, drenched, but at the top of high spirits,
filed up the hill into the little town of Abercorn.\par

It is perhaps worth while, however, to record
two conversations.\par

When the arrangements for the evacuation of
the nullah had been made, Major Burnaby had
leisure for a little talk with Tom Willoughby,
over a bottle of excellent hock from the case Tom
had captured on the Neu Langenburg road.\par

"Oh, that's all right," said the major, in
response to Tom's warm expression of thanks.
"You owe it to my old father-in-law, you
know--Mr. Barkworth."\par

"Indeed!"\par

"Yes: he took a fancy to you on the boat.
Dear old man!  His heart's as young as it was
when I first met him in Uganda twenty years
ago--when I was about your age.  He was mightily
perturbed about you when we got word that the
mad dog had broken loose.  Wrote off at once to
Reinecke, whom he knew long ago, asking him
to pass you across the border with a safe-conduct,
and became quite ill when Reinecke replied that
you had been accidentally killed.  He gave a
very circumstantial account of your accident, by
the way."\par

"He was a good liar," said Tom.\par

"Was?"\par

"Yes, he's dead--horribly.  He came to attack
me, and I collared him and put him on the island
in the lake.  I suppose he grew impatient when
he heard the firing, couldn't wait for the end, and
got his fellow-prisoners to make a sort of a raft.
Our sentry deserted his post, with the most
praiseworthy intentions, and Reinecke took advantage
of his absence to launch the raft.  He was attacked
by crocodiles; Reinecke lunged at one, and toppled
over.  I saw the whole thing: the recollection
makes me sick."\par

"Poor devil!  He was a tricky sort of fellow,
according to Mr. Barkworth."\par

Tom related the incidents that had led to his
occupation of the nullah.\par

"He deserved no better fate," remarked Major
Burnaby at the close of the story.  "Fellows like
him make one unjust, perhaps--I mean, one
would rather not regard him as a typical German.
Unhappily his countrymen are doing their best
to make the name of Germany odious."\par

"What are they doing, sir?  What's the war
about?  Of course I've heard nothing."\par

Major Burnaby gave an outline of the public
events that led to the war--events which all the
world knows.\par

"But the real origin of the war is Germany's
tigerish greed," he said.  "One can understand
that a great nation, flushed with unexampled
success, conscious of power and the possession of
many good qualities which only an ass would
deny, should look with a certain envy and jealousy
on our little islands as the owners of a world-wide
empire.  There are wrong-headed and sentimental
people at home who make excuses for her, ask
how we could expect her to be content with the
present position of things, say we deny her means
of expansion, and so on.  But they shut their eyes
to the fundamental contrast between Germany and
ourselves.  Our Empire is a gradual, almost an
accidental, growth: much of it has been so to
speak thrust upon us: you've only to read history
to know that.  We have taken up the burden of
rule in barbarous countries, or countries like India
and Egypt, where civilisation had decayed, and
which but for us would be either bear's gardens
or hotbeds of slavery and oppression.  I don't say
that our motives have always been of the purest
or our methods always the best; but I do say
that we have never, as a state, set before us the
deliberate aim of grabbing what doesn't belong to
us, forcing all civilisations into our particular
mould, and subjugating all other nations by sheer
brutal terrorism.  That is what Germany is doing.
She hasn't a notion of honour.  She was bound to
respect the neutrality of Belgium; a few days
before she threw her troops across the frontier
she assured the Belgian Government that she
had no intention of doing so.  She forced on the
war when Austria was hesitating, simply because
she thought she saw a unique opportunity of
gaining a quick and easy victory, smashing
Russia, smashing France, grabbing valuable territory,
filling her coffers with millions of foreign gold,
and reaching a position in which every country in
Europe, and ultimately in the whole world, would
be her very humble tributary.  She will allow
nothing to stand in her way: no treaties, no
scruples of honour, no considerations of humanity.
She is simply Brute Force personified; the whole
nation has gone mad in the worship of militarism;
and she will never come to a better mind, there
will be no security in this unhappy world, until
her idols are broken by the application of the
same force in overwhelming measure.  That's our
job, my dear fellow, and we must go through with
it, whatever the cost."\par

The other conversation took place in a planter's
house at Abercorn.  Mr. Barkworth had just
heard from Tom's lips the full story of all that
had happened to him since their parting on the
landing stage at Bismarckburg.\par

"H'm!" ejaculated the old man.  "Tom," he
said, turning to his son-in-law, "he's your
namesake.  Eh?  Tom's a good name--better than
riches!  Young Tom must have a commission,
eh?  Want to fight, young Tom?"\par

"Not particularly, sir.  I mean, I don't want
to fight; but there's only one thing to be done
with a bully--hit him hard.  That seems to be
the position; and I'll do my best."\par

"Sound doctrine, my lad.  I'm a man of peace;
but I read of a Man of Peace who once flogged a
pack of rascals out of the Temple of Jerusalem.
No soft words; but stinging whips.  Please God,
we'll whip Germany into good behaviour.  But
now, the practical point.  Infantry?  Cavalry?
Artillery?  What's it to be?"\par

"He seems rather good at organising scouts,"
Major Burnaby put in.\par

"H'm!  Scouts very useful when we get
seriously to work in those wilds.  Willoughby's
Scouts, why not?  What do you say, young Tom?"\par

"I couldn't wish for anything better, sir.  The
Wahehe will be a nucleus: they're very keen."\par

"They'll follow you like faithful dogs.  I know
them!  Well, old Tom, you'll arrange it.  Smuts
is coming: fine fellow, Smuts: I know him.
Willoughby's Scouts must be ready--\par


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{\noindent}
{\centering
{\normalsize{ 'TOM WILLOUGHBY'S SCOUTS.'"}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\footnotesize{PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY
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RICHARD CLAY \& SONS, LIMITED,
 \\
BRUNSWICK ST., STAMFORD ST., S.E. 1,
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AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.}}
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{\noindent}
{\centering
――――
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\par
\end{container}


\vs{4}
{\noindent}
{\centering
{\LARGE\strut{A FEW STIRRING ROMANCES}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\centering
{\Large\strut{By HERBERT STRANG}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
{\raggedright
{\Large\strut{The Air Patrol}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\normalsize{ A story of the North-West Frontier.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\normalsize{ Illustrated in colour by CYRUS CUNEO.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\footnotesize{In this hook Mr. Strang looks ahead--and other books have already proved
him a prophet of surprising skill--to a time when there is a great Mongolian
Empire whose army sweeps down on the North-West Frontier of India.  His
two heroes luckily have an aeroplane, and with the help of a few Pathan
miners they hold a pass in the Hindu Kush against a swarm of Mongols, long
enough to prevent the cutting of the communications of the Indian army
operating in Afghanistan.  The qualities which marked Mr. Strang's story,
"The Air Scout," and won extraordinarily high commendation from Lord
Roberts, Lord Curzon, and others, as well as from the }}{\itshape{{\footnotesize{Spectator}}}}{\footnotesize{ and other
great journals, are again strikingly displayed; and the combination of thrilling
adventure with an Imperial problem and excellent writing, adds one more to
this author's long list of successes.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\footnotesize{"An exceptionally good book, written moreover in excellent style."--}}{\itshape{{\footnotesize{Times}}}}{\footnotesize{.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\footnotesize{"'The Air Patrol' is really a masterpiece."--}}{\itshape{{\footnotesize{Morning Post}}}}{\footnotesize{.}}
\endgraf}
\par


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{\noindent}
{\raggedright
{\Large\strut{The Air Scout}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\normalsize{ A Story of National Defence.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\normalsize{ Illustrated in Colour by W. R. S. STOTT.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\Large\strut{The problems of National Defence are being discussed with more and more
care and attention, not only in Great Britain, but also in all parts of the
Empire.  In this story Mr. Strang imagines a Chinese descent upon Australia,
and carries his hero through a series of exciting adventures, in which the
value of national spirit, organisation, and discipline is exemplified.  The
important part which the aeroplane will play in warfare is recognised, and the
thousands of readers who have delighted in the author's previous stories of
aviation will find this new book after their own heart.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\footnotesize{LORD ROBERTS wrote:--"It is capital reading, and should interest more than
boys.  Your forecast is so good that I can only hope the future may not bring to
Australia such a struggle as the one you so graphically describe."}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\footnotesize{LORD CURZON writes:--"I have read with great pleasure your book, 'The Air
Scout.'  It seems to me to be a capital story,
full of life and movement: and further,
it preaches the best of all secular gospels, patriotism and co-operation."}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\footnotesize{"We congratulate Mr. Strang on this fine book--one of the best fighting stories
we have read."--}}{\itshape{{\footnotesize{Morning Post}}}}{\footnotesize{.}}
\endgraf}
\par


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{\noindent}
{\raggedright
{\Large\strut{ROMANCES BY HERBERT STRANG}}
\endgraf}
\par


\vs{2}
{\noindent}
{\raggedright
{\Large\strut{Palm Tree Island}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\Large\strut{Illustrated in Colour by ARCHIBALD WEBB.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\footnotesize{In this story two boys are left on a volcanic island in the South Seas,
destitute of everything but their clothes.  The story relates how they provided
themselves with food and shelter, with tools and weapons; how they fought
with wild dogs and sea monsters; and how, when they have settled down to a
comfortable life under the shadow of the volcano, their peace is disturbed by
the advent of savages and a crew of mutinous Englishmen.  The savages are
driven away; the mutineers are subdued through the boys' ingenuity; and they
ultimately sail away in a vessel of their own construction.  In no other book
has the author more admirably blended amusement with instruction.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\footnotesize{"Written so well that there is not a dull page in the book."--}}{\itshape{{\footnotesize{The World}}}}{\footnotesize{.}}
\endgraf}
\par


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{\noindent}
{\raggedright
{\Large\strut{Rob the Ranger}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\normalsize{ A Story of the Fight for Canada.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\normalsize{ With Illustrations in Colour and Maps.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\footnotesize{Rob Somers, son of an English settler in New York State, sets out with
Lone Pete, a trapper, in pursuit of an Indian raiding party which has destroyed
his home and carried off his younger brother.  He is captured and taken to
Quebec, where he finds his brother in strange circumstances, and escapes with
him in the dead of the winter, in company with a little band of stout-hearted
New Englanders.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\footnotesize{General Baden-Powell, in recommending books to the Boy Scouts,
places "Rob the Ranger" first among the great scouting stories.}}
\endgraf}
\par


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{\noindent}
{\raggedright
{\Large\strut{One of Clive's Heroes}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\normalsize{ A Story of the Fight for India.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\normalsize{ With Illustrations in Colour and Maps.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\footnotesize{Desmond Burke goes out to India to seek his fortune, and is sold by a false
friend of his, one Marmaduke Diggle, to the famous Pirate of Gheria.  But he
escapes, runs away with one of the Pirate's own vessels, and meets Colonel
Clive, whom he assists to capture the Pirate's stronghold.  His subsequent
adventures on the other side of India--how he saves a valuable cargo for his
friend Mr. Merriman, and assists Clive in his fights against Sirajuddaula--are
told with great spirit and humour.}}
\endgraf}
\par

{\raggedright
{\footnotesize{"An absorbing story....  The narrative not only thrills,
but also weaves skilfully
out of fact and fiction a clear impression of our fierce struggle for
India."--}}{\itshape{{\footnotesize{Athenaeum}}}}{\footnotesize{.}}
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*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM WILLOUGHBY'S SCOUTS ***\par

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\bookmark[level=1,page=1]{CONTENTS}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-i-tanganyika]{CHAPTER I--TANGANYIKA}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-ii-partners]{CHAPTER II--PARTNERS}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-iii-the-voucher]{CHAPTER III--THE VOUCHER}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-iv-trapped]{CHAPTER IV--TRAPPED}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-v-a-friend-in-need]{CHAPTER V--A FRIEND IN NEED}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-vi-mwesa-s-mission]{CHAPTER VI--MWESA'S MISSION}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-vii-tom-seizes-the-occasion]{CHAPTER VII--TOM SEIZES THE OCCASION}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-viii-reinecke-returns]{CHAPTER VIII--REINECKE RETURNS}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-ix-a-delaying-action]{CHAPTER IX--A DELAYING ACTION}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-x-a-breathing-space]{CHAPTER X--A BREATHING SPACE}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-xi-tom-s-new-allies]{CHAPTER XI--TOM'S NEW ALLIES}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-xii-the-deserter]{CHAPTER XII--THE DESERTER}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-xiii-hunted]{CHAPTER XIII--HUNTED}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-xiv-the-trail]{CHAPTER XIV--THE TRAIL}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-xv-the-back-door]{CHAPTER XV--THE BACK DOOR}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-xvi-drawn-blank]{CHAPTER XVI--DRAWN BLANK}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-xvii-a-german-offer]{CHAPTER XVII--A GERMAN OFFER}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-xviii-a-good-haul]{CHAPTER XVIII--A GOOD HAUL}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-xix-beleaguered]{CHAPTER XIX--BELEAGUERED}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-xx-raising-the-siege]{CHAPTER XX--RAISING THE SIEGE}
\bookmark[level=2,dest=chapter-xxi-willoughby-s-scouts]{CHAPTER XXI--WILLOUGHBY'S SCOUTS}
\hbox{}
\end{document}

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