The spot was no longer tenable by the écarté players; the arrows fell
faster and faster, and in ever increasing quantities. De Morin would
have had several in his back, if the havresack, which he carried
about with him, had not acted as a cuirass. Three arrows had stuck in
it, but their onward progress had been arrested by the various
articles in the bag, and so the wearer escaped.
"A hit!" said de Morin, each time he felt an arrow strike his
havresack. "With all these points, to all appearances sticking out of
my body, I shall end by being taken for a porcupine."
"Yes," remarked Delange, "these fools are beginning to show some
signs of skill, and I see the moment fast approaching when I shall
have to operate on myself, as I have already done on Munza, and that,
I assure you, is not exactly the sort of amusement I should choose."
The Domondoos certainly deserved the epithet fools just conferred on
them by the Doctor; instead of following up their momentary success,
consequent on Munza being wounded, and taking advantage of the panic
thus created amongst their enemies, instead of attacking the opposing
force with greater vigour than before, charging home, and, possibly,
routing it entirely, they began to dance, and sing, and shout, making
us the targets of their arrows. It might have been supposed that we
three represented Munza's troops, and that if we were exterminated,
the whole army would disappear.
But the King was watching over us, and as soon as he saw we were bent
on staying where we were, he did his best to render the spot less
dangerous by fortifying it in a measure. By his order, a score of
soldiers came to our assistance, with a lot of wooden shields, of
which they made a sort of palisading behind us; they themselves then
extended to the right and left of us, and, by raising and lowering
their other shields as the too intrusive arrows flew towards us, they
protected us on every side. We were, consequently, in perfect safety,
sheltered not only from the arrows, but also from the sun's rays, and
the two gamblers were loud in their praises of Munza.
"Nothing could be more ingenious," remarked de Morin. "Thanks to that
excellent man, we can continue our game in peace and quietness. Ah! I
score a vole."
"Too true, by Jove! There is no disputing that."
The doctor did not score a vole, but, in his next hand, he marked the
king, and made the point, which came to the same thing. The two
adversaries were two all, and a few moments more would settle the
question.
The idea of the palisade was really a very happy one; the short,
sharp sounds made by the iron arrowheads, as they struck against the
shields, told us that our enemies were continuing their trial of
skill at us.
"It might be hailing," observed de Morin.
"I do not know whether it hails or not, my dear fellow," replied
Delange, "but I do know that I have made a point, so that I am three
to your two."
"So I see; but you need not be so ungenerous as to boast about it."
A Monbuttoo soldier, attending to the game, instead of to his
business, let an arrow pass him.
"Look out, clumsy!" exclaimed de Morin. "If I lose, I will have it
out of you to the tune of a few thousand francs."
The black burst out laughing, as if he quite saw the joke.
The deal was now with Delange, who turned up the ace of hearts. De
Morin looked at his hand, and, without asking for cards, played the
king of spades.
An almost imperceptible smile played round the doctor's lips. He took
the king with a small trump, played the queen of hearts, which, of
course, was the best card, and timidly put down the knave of
diamonds. As his adversary had a lower card of the same suit, this
gave Delange three tricks out of the five.
He looked at de Morin, and said—
"I score two, if you have no objection, seeing that you chose not to
ask for cards. Three and two make five, all over the world, Africa
included, and, consequently, the rubber is mine."
"By the skin of your teeth," said de Morin, as he got up.
"Do not grudge me my triumph," replied Delange. "We are now quits,
and I feel as if I had escaped a great danger."
"I can quite imagine it—you have escaped ninety thousand francs."
"If we could only escape back again to France," I chimed in. "It is
high time we did so, I fear."
"You are right," said de Morin. "That small detail had escaped me.
This gambling saloon, constructed by Munza, is so pleasant and
comfortable, that I thought I was at the club."
"Don't you think," I continued, "that the battle is becoming
monotonous? would it not be as well to interfere?"
"Yes, I do; but how are we to set about it?"
"Let us authorise our Nubians to join in the fray. Look at them down
below there; they are boiling over with impatience, and cannot leave
their rifles alone. If Nassar had not been there to restrain them,
they would have opened fire long ago."
"Their fire would not finish the business; their rifles are only
loaded with blank cartridge."
"Are you sorry for that?" asked de Morin.
"Well, considering that the Domondoos have presented us with a
plentiful stock of arrows, I think we ought to give them a few
bullets in return."
"Nonsense," replied de Morin. "Let us keep our ammunition for a
better purpose. Blank cartridge will do well enough here."
He stepped outside our palisade, and contrived, by dint of frantic
gesticulations, to let Nassar know that he required the attendance of
our escort. They were only too ready to obey, and Nassar was at once
despatched to the King with a request that we might be furnished with
a hundred of his crack shots. As soon as they reached us, de Morin
made them form up in a double line, and told them not to let fly
their arrows until he gave the word. At the same time, our soldiers
were instructed to reserve their fire until the arrows sped on their
way.
Delange and I saw our friend's drift at once; the report of our arms
would spread terror amongst the Domondoos, whilst the arrows, from
the short range, would make immediate havoc in their ranks. By this
combination, the Nubians, seeing their adversaries fall, would labour
under the delusion that they had killed or wounded them, and would
never perceive that their cartridges were destitute of bullets. The
enemy, terrified by the noise, would equally think that they were hit
by us. Our consciences would, in this way, be quite clear; our rifles
would have done no harm, and in a few moments we should put an end to
a struggle which could not fail to be more bloody the longer it
lasted.
At a signal from de Morin, away flew the arrows, and a simultaneous
report of fire-arms was heard.
The Domondoos were completely routed; some ran in terror across the
plain, others sought a refuge in the tall grass, whilst very many
were so paralyzed by fright that they lay down flat on their faces,
or went on their knees and held out their arms to implore our pity.
We should have been well pleased to pardon them, and we would have
given much to have been able to tell them to lay down their arms, and
return in peace to their homes. But how were we to stop Munza's army,
how could we prevent his people pursuing the fugitives, making some
prisoners, and killing the remainder?
We contrived, nevertheless, to save a portion of our foes by giving
them time to save themselves. By our orders, and still under the
impression that they were doing wonders, the Nubians continued their
fire, and the Monbuttoos, quite as much frightened as their enemies
were by the noise, dared not set off in pursuit. Posted between the
two armies, we thus managed, for a short time, to set up a kind of
barrier between the victors and the vanquished. But our soldiers, as
I have already said, had only ten rounds each, and these were soon
expended.
The plain thus became the scene of a horrible _mêlée_; lances, axes,
knives and teeth took the place of arrows. Hand to hand they fought,
and bled, and bit, and ate. It was a sight worthy of the infernal
regions, a loathsome, revolting spectacle. In one place a group of
soldiers might be seen to suddenly cease to fight, and take to
dancing round their victims; some would seize on a corpse and cut the
flesh to ribands, and others, for the purpose of rendering themselves
invulnerable, as Munza had told us, would hack the bodies of their
foes to get at the fat. All these scenes were revolting to a degree,
but we should have been wrong in shrinking from them and giving way
to our feelings of disgust. On the contrary, we rushed from group to
group, intent on rescuing same victims, at all events, from the
knives of their butchers.
Munza did his best to help us. At the urgent entreaty of Madame de
Guéran, who, accompanied by the Arab interpreters, had courageously
made her way to the King, he gave orders for the massacre to cease,
telling his men to give quarter and make prisoners only. He himself
saw that his orders were obeyed; preceded by his musicians, and borne
on a shield by six runners, he went all over the battle field as we
were doing. As for the prisoners, we obtained permission to place our
Nubians on guard over them, together with the Monbuttoos. By this
time we had served out ball cartridge to our men, and we knew well
that they would not allow the prisoners to be beheaded, so long as
they were there to prevent it, the tribes to which they belong having
a superstitious horror of decapitation.
We had thus done our very best to mitigate the horrors of this annual
massacre, in no way provoked by our presence amongst the Monbuttoos.
But, when evening arrived, we were powerless to prevent fire and
plunder. A large village was situated hard by the field of battle,
and it was to protect the place that the Domondoos had massed their
forces in the plain, Munza's troops, when the battle was over, rushed
headlong into this important hamlet, and, after having sacked the
huts, set fire to them.
Delange, de Morin and I followed close upon their heels, in the hope
of saving the aged, the children and such sick people as might have
been left to their fate in the huts. We succeeded, indeed, in taking
a few under our protection, and we were just about to withdraw with
them and rescue them from the flames, when piercing shrieks fell upon
our ears.
They proceeded from a hut not yet attacked by the flames. I was the
first to enter, and I found a poor, sick man who, unable to get out,
was calling for assistance, to save himself from being burnt alive.
Just as I was taking him up in my arms, the lurid glare of the flames
lit up the interior of the hut, and a species of placard, suspended
from the wall, caught my eye.
I went up to it. On a large sheet of paper, evidently torn out of a
book, were about a hundred lines of writing, and underneath them we
read, in large letters, this signature—
BARON DE GUÉRAN.