A NIGHT ADVENTURE
"I am a silly ass," said Challis, as the two returned to the bastion.
"Why, what's the matter?" asked Royce, smiling at his companion's
disgusted tone.
"Why did I shout? If I had held my tongue, we might have kept this
matter from the men. As it is, they are sure to have an attack of
nerves."
"Oh, well! don't worry about it. We can't always do absolutely the
best thing. It's a mystery how the fellow got in, and what he was up
to. We must watch him if he tries it again."
As Challis feared, the men were restless. Nobody had much sleep that
night, and the Englishmen were unfeignedly glad when day dawned.
The day passed wearisomely. The enemy were seen moving about among
the trees, but there was no attack.
"You see that spur of forest yonder?" said Royce in the afternoon,
pointing to a clump on the north-east side of the fort. "It's only
about two hundred yards away, and would be a capital vantage point
for an attack. Yet it's the only bit of woodland which the enemy
don't appear to occupy. I wonder why?"
"Perhaps they think it's a little too near us," suggested Challis.
"It's within practically point-blank range of our rifles."
"But there are so many of them that they could afford to try a rush
from that point. It's very strange. Barring an occasional sniping
shot towards evening, nothing has happened from that quarter, and the
sniper has never done any damage."
"The Tubus' main camp is only a little to the north of it. They may
not think it worth while to occupy the second and smaller clump....
Tom, I've been thinking."
"The same old problem?"
"Yes, the part we are no nearer to solving--the food supply. It is
clear we are in for a siege. The men will soon get weary, as our
stores diminish. We shall be starved out inside a fortnight, even if
the men don't lose heart and begin to clamour."
"You are thinking of making a sally?"
"Not exactly. Look at the position. If we stay, we starve; if we
break out in a body, we shall be pursued and surrounded. But why
shouldn't some of us slip out and try to get help?"
"I thought we had settled that. The nearest British station is too
far away; to get to the nearest French one we should have to cross
the Tubus' country."
"But what about the natives of the neighbourhood?"
"All who are not massacred are in a stew of fright, I expect. They
wouldn't lift a hand against the Tubus."
"Not if one of us, either you or I, applied to them? The white man
has a certain prestige, you know. Anyhow, I think it ought to be
tried; in fact, it must be. I might revisit that old chap who sold
us provisions."
"Or I might. It's my turn."
"Hang turns! I know the old chap."
"Why shouldn't I have the pleasure of his acquaintance? But, to
avoid the eternal dispute, let's toss again."
"Right-o! I always win the toss. Heads!"
"Tails it is! Your luck is out. Fate has more respect for turns
than you. I'll go this very night."
"You will want John as interpreter."
"It's a pity to reduce the garrison by two rifles, but I'm afraid it
can't be helped."
"And you had better take one of B Company as guide. They are no good
with the rifle. I'll get John to choose a man."
"There's one advantage to you--you'll have three fewer mouths to
feed. We'll only take a little with us, and trust to chance to pick
up more on the way, if we need it."
"You must wait till the moon sets. That will be rather late
to-night."
"Yes. You'll let us down over the wall on the north-east, towards
that clump of trees you mentioned. There's apparently no danger
there, and we'll soon be under cover."
"The idea is to bring back reinforcements, of course. They must
carry their own supplies. I don't think much of your chances, but
I'm sure it's worth trying."
"Whether we succeed or fail, we'll come back by night. We must
arrange a signal, so that you don't pot us by mistake."
"John imitates the jackal's cry to the life. If I hear three barks
in quick succession, I shall know it's you."
John was quite ready to accompany "Massa Chally." Without imputing
cowardice to the head-man, it is certain that he thought the plight
of the garrison desperate, and was not sorry to take his chance
outside rather than within the works. He selected as guide a
strapping young Kanura named Mogra, who was well acquainted with the
country.
They had to wait until long past midnight for the setting of the
moon. Challis did not regret the delay. By the time they could
start the Tubus would probably be well asleep. Every night the glow
of their camp-fires could be seen at different spots round the fort,
and sounds were heard far into the night from each of the camps.
On this occasion it seemed that the enemy turned in even later than
usual. It was at least an hour after the moon's disappearance that
silence fell upon the country. Then the little band were let down by
a rope gently over the wall, on the side farthest from the gateway.
Dark though it was, Challis thought it well to crawl down the hillock
until level ground was reached. Then the three stole along under
cover of the bushes towards the patch of woodland.
Half-way across, Challis inadvertently kicked a loose stone, and
paused, listening anxiously. There was no sound of alarm. They
reached the clump, and crept through it, leaving the enemy's camp on
the left, and meeting no obstacle except the undergrowth, in which
they were all experienced travellers.
"I don't see why we shouldn't all have got out," said Challis to
himself, feeling half-inclined to run back and persuade Royce to join
him.
But the hopelessness of such an attempt was borne in upon him at once
by a sound on his left. The enemy's horses were snuffling and pawing
the ground, apparently between him and the campfire. Even if the
garrison could leave the fort quietly enough to escape instant
detection, they must move slowly, burdened with packs as they would
be. Their tracks would be discovered in the morning, and the mounted
Tubus could overtake them in a few hours.
Challis had just dismissed the idea of a general exodus as
impracticable, when the slight sounds made by the horses swelled to a
considerable noise. The snuffling became snorting and whinnying, and
there mingled with it one or two human calls. Could the flight have
been discovered?
Mogra was leading, with John close behind, Challis third of the line.
At the commotion the guide was seized with panic, and was bolting
blindly forward, when John dashed up behind him, caught him by the
neck, and bade him, in language which he understood, not to be a fool.
They went on, carefully picking their way through the scrub. The
noise on their left rear increased. They heard numbers of horses
galloping away to the north and north-east, and many men shouting.
Challis wondered whether the Tubus had been drawn away by sudden news
from their own country, or by some false alarm. Then a gust of wind
striking him from the right suggested a more likely explanation. The
wind was carrying his scent to the camp. Unused to the scent of a
white man, the horses had taken fright and stampeded, followed
hot-foot by their owners.
In order to get well out of the current of possible pursuit, Challis
ordered Mogra to bear more to the east. They pushed on steadily for
two hours. By this time dawn was approaching.
In the half-light they suddenly caught sight of four or five big
shapes moving slowly through the morning mist across their path some
little distance ahead. At the spot where they had arrived there were
no bushes to give cover, and Challis ordered the men in a whisper to
fling themselves flat on the ground.
There was no cause for alarm, but rather for self-congratulation. In
less than a minute they recognised the misty shapes as riderless
horses.
"What luck!" thought Challis. "Provided their riders are not
anywhere near, John," he said, "you and Mogra must catch three of
those horses. If I try, they will scent me and bolt. I'll keep
guard."
The two negroes set off. Challis watched their tactics admiringly.
They crept on all fours round to leeward of the horses, which were
grazing on low-growing plants, and drew near to them by almost
imperceptible degrees. Suddenly they sprang up, dashed forward, and
had two halters in their hands.
Mogra led the two captured horses to Challis, while John went ahead
after the others, which had galloped away. In ten minutes he
returned, all smiles and triumph.
"Berry fine horse for massa," he cried. "Me tink dis one no good,
dat one no good; massa must have bestest; here him are, sah, sure and
sartin."
It was a fine grey mare, thin fetlocked, slender in the flanks, with
a noble head. Challis tried to mount, but the mare bucked and
curvetted, with evident dislike of handling by a white man.
Challis's difficulties with it amused John, whose horse was perfectly
docile. A little patient coaxing and the gift, happily inspired, of
a roasted nut from Challis's wallet, reconciled the animal to her new
master; and Challis found himself mounted on the best bit of
horseflesh he had ever had the luck to bestride.
"Now, then, Mogra!" he called.
Mogra was bashful. The third horse stood quite still, as if inviting
the man to mount; but he had never been on horseback, and stood
holding the halter with an air of weighing the chances of getting
safely into the saddle.
John rocked with laughter, when Mogra, at last plucking up courage,
fumbled for the stirrup and almost fell under the horse's belly,
still clinging to the halter.
"Get down and help him," said Challis, anxious to be off.
John dismounted and hoisted Mogra into the saddle by main force.
"Him silly chap, sah," he said grinning. "Tumble off, sure 'nuff."
But Mogra did not tumble off. Now that he was on, he determined to
stick fast. Gripping the animal with his bare knees, wearing an
expression compounded of grim determination and the fear of sudden
death, he no doubt owed his stability to the placid temperament of
his steed. Challis set a slow pace, so that the man might grow
accustomed to his unfamiliar position, and the three rode on together.