DISASTER
The capture of Goruba cheered the whole garrison of the fort.
Curiously enough, it was rather as the evening visitor who disturbed
them than as the leader of the besiegers that the negroes regarded
him. No longer would they be worried by the mysterious intruder.
Kulana had, of course, told them about the hole in the wall of the
well. They were eager to see for themselves the passage through
which the giant had come, but Royce had forbidden that for the
present.
Royce on his part, while glad enough to have Goruba in his hands, was
in some doubt as to how he could turn that fact to account. Should
he inform the Tubus or not? He tried to think the matter out
thoroughly.
The Tubus would miss their leader as soon as morning broke. What
would they do? No doubt they would at first simply wonder where he
had gone, and why; but they would expect him to return and would feel
no alarm.
As time passed, however, his continued absence would perplex them.
It was pretty clear that they knew nothing of the secret passage.
They might begin to search for him, perhaps supposing that he had met
with an accident. Not finding him, they would grow more and more
anxious; the mystery would paralyse them; they might give up the
siege.
What would they do if they learnt that he was a prisoner? The fact
might equally discourage them; or it might enrage them and spur them
on to a desperate attempt to rescue him. On the whole, it seemed
better to keep them in ignorance, so Royce decided to lie low and say
nothing.
It was important at any rate that the prisoner should be securely
guarded. Accordingly, when morning dawned, Royce had him carried to
a little cell adjoining the room where Kulana did the cooking. There
was a low doorway between the two rooms, and through this Kulana
could keep his eye on Goruba.
Royce had the prisoner tied hand and foot, and instructed Kulana to
give him food and water at intervals. Then, to prevent a rescue, he
took some men down the well, through the passage and cave, and into
the tunnel, which he ordered them to block up at the farther end with
stones and earth. Thus, if the Tubus in their search for Goruba
should light upon the secret entrance among the trees, they would see
only a mass of rubbish and probably not pry further.
Two days passed. Goruba was sullen. He took his meals in silence
under the eyes of three of the Hausas, who released his hands for a
few minutes, and bound them again when he had finished. Gambaru
bathed his injured wrist, but he expressed no gratitude.
On the third day, however, he broke his silence, telling Kulana that
he wished to speak to the white man. Kulana left him for a few
moments and fetched Royce, who was very curious as to what the big
negro would say.
He was surprised and amused as Kulana translated. Goruba, a
prisoner, tried to make terms as though he were a free man, and Royce
a captive in his place! He said that if he were liberated, he would
allow the white man to leave the country unmolested.
"Cheek!" thought Royce, though he could not help admiring the negro's
spirit. "Tell him," he said, "that things are the other way round.
If his men will give up their arms I will let them all return across
the Yo, but they must promise not to come raiding any more."
Goruba's only answer was a scowl. He fell back into his former
sullen silence.
"I really can't blame him," thought Royce. "If he went back to the
Tubus' country with a broken force, his chief would probably cut off
his head at once. Even if he were spared, he would know that he had
lost all chance of securing his treasure, for which he has no doubt
been scheming for years. But if he holds on, there's always a
possibility of being rescued by his party. Goruba is no fool."
Another day passed. Parties of the enemy had been seen wandering in
different directions around the fort, but they had not broken up
their camps. It seemed indeed to Royce that their numbers had
increased, and he guessed that a messenger had been sent back across
the Yo to report Goruba's disappearance, and had brought other Tubus
with him on his return.
Meanwhile Royce was growing more and more anxious about Challis and
about the garrison. What chance had Challis, he thought, of raising
the district, devastated as it was, against raiders so strong in
numbers and so terrible in reputation? The prospects of relief from
the outside were desperately slight.
Inside, food was running short. Royce realised with dismay that he
had over-estimated the stock. He doled it out sparingly to Kulana,
whose work became lighter every day. Several of the men were showing
signs of weakness, some were scarcely fit for duty. Royce was
touched by the courage with which they endured their privations.
Even the weak did not murmur or complain. All looked to him with
trust and confidence that he and Massa Chally would save them.
On this day, as Royce made the miserable dole for the evening meal,
he had hard work to appear hopeful and cheerful. But he knew that
he, at any rate, must not appear despondent.
"We are getting thin, Kulana," he said, with a smile, "but that gives
all the more room for fattening up by and by, when Massa Chally comes
back."
"Oh yes, sah--when Massa Chally comes back," Kulana repeated.
"It will be only a day or two now," Royce went on, fervently hoping
that the future would not belie him.
"Only a day or two, sah," said Kulana. "Den we eat lots and lots,
get all jolly fat."
Royce went to the wall, as he did many times a day, and scanned the
country through his field-glasses. But beyond the Tubus' camps there
was nothing to be seen but the vast stretch of open country, dotted
with bush and woodland. There were no signs of Challis.
Suddenly he was startled by cries of alarm within the fort. Hurrying
in the direction of the sounds, he was amazed to see a cloud of smoke
arising from the roofless room used by Kulana. The cook was at the
door, groaning and wringing his hands. Others were trying to get
through the smoke into the room.
No sooner had Royce reached the spot than he heard new cries and
rifle shots from the wall. Thinking that the Tubus were attacking at
last, he rushed back to deal with the more pressing danger, leaving
the men on the spot to fight the fire.
The Hausas at the north-east corner were blazing away in the
direction of the tongue of woodland in which lay the entrance to
Goruba's tunnel. But there were no Tubus in sight except a small
group on foot far to the left, who were not attacking, but had
apparently been drawn from their camp by the sound of firing from the
fort.
Yes, there was one other. Looking into the distance he had at first
failed to see a dark figure nearer at hand, zigzagging down the lower
slopes of the hill. When at last Royce caught sight of it, it was
disappearing into the wood.
"Stop firing!" he cried, recognising that it was only a waste of
ammunition. "Keep a good look out."
Then he hurried back to deal with the fire, wondering whether the
negro he had seen was a scout sent up to reconnoitre the fort.
The fire, meanwhile, seemed to have burnt itself out. The room was
still full of smoke, smelling of roasting nuts and grain. Royce was
seized with misgiving. He plunged through the smoke, coughing and
rubbing his eyes. What he saw filled him with dismay. The whole
remaining stock of provisions, except a few tins of beef he kept in
his own room, was blackened and burnt.
Running back out of the smoke, he ordered some of the men to save
what was still savable, then turned angrily to question Kulana, to
whose carelessness he thought the fire was due. But his anger was
immediately disarmed, Kulana explained that he had been absent a few
minutes, fetching water from the well for the evening meal. The fire
was quite safe when he left it, but when he returned the place was in
flames.
A new suspicion flashed into Royce's mind. Darting again across the
smoke-filled room, he bent down to look through the opening leading
to the prisoner's cell. Goruba was gone!
Two pieces of broken cord lay on the floor; two other pieces, charred
at one end, were in the cookhouse.
Royce could only guess at the manner of escape. During these past
days Goruba must have been patiently working his feet loose. Having
freed them, he had seized the opportunity of Kulana's absence to
crawl into the cook-house, burn the cord about his wrists at the
fire, set fire to the food, and make his escape in the subsequent
confusion.
Three or four men at the wall said that a man had suddenly and
without a sound rushed from behind them, jumped on to the wall,
sprung down the twelve feet to the ground outside, and dashed down
the hill. They fired as soon as they recovered from their surprise.
One of them was sure that he had hit the man.
"But he got away," said Royce gloomily. "And nearly all the food is
destroyed." Inwardly he added: "What is to become of us all?"