"Think they'll give it up?" said Ferrier, as they sat over their dinner.
"Not they! Those fellows haven't come all the way from their village
for nothing. They wouldn't have come at all but for some strong
inducement, for Juma isn't an old friend of theirs, remember."
"Well, there's very little inducement so far as I can see. There's next
to no loot bar the rifles and ammunition, and Juma would bag those if he
licked us. The others would have a very poor look-in."
"You forget the sort of old curiosity shop collection that the men were
so delighted with. The 'bad men' would get those, of course."
"It's very little among so many; you said there were about four hundred
of them."
"Yes, but Juma wouldn't be over particular as to what he promised. All
he wanted was to get their help. If he were to lick us, he could safely
defy the 'bad men,' for with the rifles and practically unlimited
ammunition he could do what he liked with 'em. He's sure to attack us,
maybe to-day, maybe to-morrow; and the best thing we can do is to
strengthen our defences. We shall have all our work cut out to keep 'em
off this time: we're three rifles short; I suppose Coja and the others
took theirs with them?"
"Yes, unfortunately. But I've already begun to strengthen the
defences--started when I got your message."
"Good man! What did you do?"
"First thing, I cut down some of the young trees at the further end of
the island. I thought they might give cover to the enemy if they tried
an attack in that quarter. Then it occurred to me that if we could
raise a sort of bastion to jut over the wall by the gate yonder, we
could fire at them without exposing ourselves, and--what do they call
it?--enfilade them."
"Capital! I wondered what that rummy erection meant. Didn't like to
say so, but it looks like a funeral pyre."
"Well, it's not finished, you know. It took us a good time to cut down
the trees and strip off the branches. The enemy didn't see what we were
about until we had got a pretty good pile of logs, and then they began
shooting at us--with arrows; they didn't want to waste ammunition, I
suppose. I had to draw the men off then, and we haven't gone at it
again: your arrival has put everything else in the shade."
"We may as well finish that bastion now, at any rate, and put up another
on the other side of the gate, if there's wood enough. Sorry I can't
help you; I'm too stiff. You'll have to perch me up on one of the
bastions when the attack comes, and leave me there."
"Oh, you'll soon be all right. I'll give you a good rubbing by and by
with hippo grease; it'll be as good as goose fat, and that's what the
old wives use, isn't it?"
Ferrier set the men to work on the bastions, instructing them how to
pile the logs and to interlace the branches they had lopped off, so as
to form a kind of parapet, the interstices between the branches making
natural loopholes.
They were still engaged on this task, about four o'clock in the
afternoon, when Ferrier's attention was attracted by movements among the
enemy, who formed a dense black mass, with a few white spots, against
the background of trees. He thought that the signs of activity
portended an attack, and called to some of the men to occupy the one
bastion that was finished. They obeyed quickly, carrying John with them
at his own order. But it was soon apparent that the enemy were not
contemplating an immediate assault. They suddenly threw themselves on
the ground in a large circle, three ranks deep, the Swahilis, eight in
number, standing at the centre.
"A council of war: what they call a shauri," said John.
It was soon seen that there was a difference of opinion among the
assembly. At first the discussion proceeded in a quiet and orderly
manner, the sound of voices reaching the fort very faintly. But
presently there were clear signs of excitement. Some of the warriors
sprang up, and harangued the Swahilis fiercely, brandishing their spears
in the direction of the fort. Their voices were raised; the tumult
increased moment by moment; and the sound became a continuous roar, like
the noise of surf at a distance.
"The allies are at loggerheads," said Ferrier. "They may raise the
siege."
The chief of the "bad men" was in fact demanding to know why the
Swahilis had brought him and his men on a fool's errand. Where was the
promised spoil? In a fort, defended by a wall, a pool of water, and an
army led by wasungu. How had the msungu whom they had left in the
village, bound and under guard, come into the fort? Surely by magic;
and if the wasungu had such wonderful medicine it was useless to attack
them.
To this Juma--for it was he--replied that the spoil was indeed within
the fort, but the defences were not so formidable as they appeared. The
wall had been partly demolished; the pool could be swum, it contained no
crocodiles; and as for the men within, it was clear they must be very
weak, for they had taken no food into the fort for many days. Nor could
they get any; no doubt an attempt had been made that morning, and found
to be impossible because of the current. (Such was his explanation of
the incident of the raft.) And as for the msungu who had reappeared so
mysteriously, it was no magic, but the carelessness of the guards that
accounted for that: the msungu must have escaped, and not being afraid
of the dark had marched during the night.
This aspersion on the trustworthiness of the guards roused the chief to
fury. Springing up, he demanded the instant fulfilment of the promise
made to him. He worked himself up to an ecstasy of indignation; his men
caught fire from him; and when the tumult was at its height they
suddenly wheeled round and, following their chief, began to march off
towards their village.
"This looks promising, certainly," said John, who had watched the
proceedings closely. "If we could only get out we might even enlist
those fellows on our side."
But in a few moments a change came over the scene. Six painted warriors
came running from the north-west to meet the marching force, which
halted, swallowing up the runners into its own mass. A few minutes
passed; then the whole body wheeled about and returned to the spot where
the Swahilis and their negroes were still grouped in a circle.
"Men from the village come to report our escape," said John.
"But why should that make the chief turn back?" rejoined Ferrier. "It
ought to have the opposite effect."
"I take it that the chief is so mad at being done that he has decided
not to go until he has caught me again."
"But your escape is no news to him. They've seen you already."
"That's true. Well, I can't account for it; but it's clear that those
six fellows have caused a change in the tide, and I wish them at
Halifax."
The conference was resumed, and continued until dark. There was no
further outburst. Ferrier utilized the time to finish the second
bastion: it was impossible to doubt that the enemy was planning an
attack. It would not be made in the night, but must be looked for as
soon as morning broke. Ferrier's expression was very grave as he helped
John to reach his little grass hut in the centre of the fort. He had
made an inspection of the stock of provisions during the morning, and
knew that it would not last beyond another day.
"I won't worry John to-night," he thought, "but he'll have to know in
the morning."
Though convinced that no attack would be made during the dark hours,
Ferrier took the precaution of putting four men on sentry-go. He
insisted on John's going to bed as soon as he had had his massaging, and
sat down by the fire himself, in no cheerful frame of mind. He knew he
would get little sleep that night, for the negro, though willing enough,
is ever an untrustworthy sentinel. And when he reflected on the horde
of savage enemies without, he could not look forward with confidence to
the issue of the coming fight. He canvassed the possibility of help
coming from Nairobi or Fort Hall, reckoning how long it would take for
the messenger to reach Mr. Gillespie, and how long for a rescue party to
gain the fort. But he found the very elements of the calculation
uncertain; try as he might, he could not recollect clearly how many days
had passed since they left the farm. Never before had he understood the
savage man's indifference to time; it was now clear; time is an
invention of civilization.
While he was sitting thus brooding over the fire, one of the sentries,
an askari of his original safari, came running to him.
"Bwana," he said, "man ober dere."
He pointed towards the western end of the island. Ferrier sprang up,
seizing rifle and revolver: surely the enemy had not crossed the river
in the darkness and crept round to attack the fort from this side?
Hastening to the wall, he mounted upon it and peered into the night.
Nothing could be seen. But in a moment he thought he heard a faint
sound. He listened intently: yes, he heard it again; it was a kind of
whinny--the signal he had arranged with Coja in case he should return
after sunset. The men were safe, then; he rejoiced for their own sake,
and because it meant the addition of three good rifles to the morrow's
defence. Calling up two of the men, he had the canoe lowered and
carried down to the water, himself accompanying them, since he could
never be sure that unreasoning panic might not seize them. The canoe
was launched and paddled quietly to the farther shore of the pool. Two
men stepped down to meet it: they were Coja and the askari.
"Where is Said Mohammed?" asked Ferrier.
"Him gone, sah," replied Coja: "dunno where he are."
"You lost him?"
"Long long way ober dere."
"Before it was dark?"
"Long time, sah,"
"Did you look for him?"
"Oh yes, sah, look for him long time, sure nuff."
"Well, get in. You're a couple of muffs, to say the least. What were
you doing?"
Coja explained that about midday, as they were fording the river, a
number of leeches fastened on their legs. They jumped about to rid
themselves of the creatures, and suddenly a huge brown crocodile, waked
by the disturbance, slid off a mud bank into the stream, within a foot
or two of Said Mohammed. The Bengali heard the flop of the loathsome
reptile just in time to spring out of its reach. The others dashed
across the river at full speed: Said Mohammed ran back to the bank they
had left, scrambled up, and sped away as fast as his legs would carry
him into the bush. Coja did not venture to recross the stream at that
spot: he sought a ford higher up, but was long in finding one. Both he
and the askari waded over and searched along the bank; they did not dare
to shout, for fear of bringing an enemy upon them; and failing after a
long time to discover any trace of the Bengali, they had thought it best
to return to the fort.
"And did you find the place where the _bwana_ and Bill are kept?" asked
Ferrier.
"No, sah: them's dead, sure miff."
"They're here, and alive," he said. "I was a fool to let the men go,"
was his unspoken thought.
The men were amazed and delighted that the master had returned. As for
Said Mohammed, it was doubtful whether his fate gave them any concern.
The night passed in peace. Ferrier felt very weary in the morning, but
John, after a long sleep, rose much refreshed, though he still found
moving difficult. About eight o'clock there was a cry from the gate
that the enemy were rushing down towards the causeway. The bastions
were instantly manned, John taking post in one and Ferrier in the other,
dividing the askaris equally between them. Twenty men with spears and
bows and arrows were told off to hold the broken portion of the wall on
either side of the gate, where the attack was most to be feared. The
remainder of the force were stationed at various points, to be ready to
run wherever they were called, and to keep watch on the opposite side of
the island.
John was surprised to see that the enemy did not take to the water, as
they had done on the former occasion, but came in a yelling line along
the causeway. They were Juma's newest allies, and being without
personal experience of the reception their friends had formerly met
with, they came rushing across with a reckless courage. When the first
man had reached the middle of the causeway, a volley was fired
simultaneously from each of the bastions, and half the line fell into
the water, uttering dreadful yells. There was a momentary pause; but
the leader had escaped; he bounded forward, followed by the survivors
and others who had not come within the line of fire. The shore behind
was thick with black warriors, hideous in their war-paint, and shouting
furiously. Only Ferrier's rifle was double-barrelled; John's had been
taken from him when he was captured; and before the men could reload,
several of the enemy had reached the end of the causeway, and, springing
into the water at the gap, gained the shelf of land beneath the wall.
Ferrier's rifle disposed of one of them; the rest rushed up to the gate
and the ruined rampart, and were in a moment fighting hand-to-hand with
the men within.
"Keep your fire on the causeway," shouted John, who then called to some
of the men in reserve to mount the wall and fling stones on the men
trying to clamber up. A second volley from either side crashed into the
negroes racing towards the fort. Only two of them got across. Those
behind who had not been struck down came to a sudden halt, only to be
pushed on by those surging in the rear. The result was that a score of
unhurt negroes were hustled into the water. John forbore to fire at
these, but as soon as his men had reloaded, sent another volley among
those who were still running along. Meanwhile the defenders of the wall
had beaten off the assault of the men below, who were at a hopeless
disadvantage. Two or three fell groaning to the ground, transfixed with
spears; the rest leapt into the pool, and struck out frantically for the
shore. The sight of this retreat, and a fourth volley from their unseen
enemy, shattered the confidence of the bravest negroes. There was wild
confusion on the causeway. Those upon it could not retreat because of
the pressure of their comrades behind. They jumped into the water on
both sides. The others, seeing that all was lost, fled back towards the
wood. In ten minutes after the first attack they were in full flight.
But at this moment a shout was raised that the enemy were attacking from
the other side of the island. Ferrier instantly sprang down from his
perch, and calling on his men to follow him, rushed across the enclosure
to repel this new assault. John, perforce confined to his post, ordered
his company to join the others, while he alone kept watch on the
causeway. Being undisturbed, he had leisure to consider what the
enemy's plan had been. He could not doubt that they had arranged in
their council of war that the Swahilis with their party should cross the
river and creep under cover of the trees and scrub to the western shore
of the pool. The intention had certainly been that the attack should be
made on both sides of the fort simultaneously. If it had been perfectly
timed, and begun at a concerted signal, the plight of the garrison might
have been very serious. But careful co-operation is impossible to the
negro. The men on the eastern side had rushed blindly to the assault,
heedless of what the other party was doing. These, led by Juma himself,
had made their way unobserved to the place arranged, and swum the pool
under cover of the fringe of trees which were still left standing. But
only one or two had landed when they heard the din of fighting on the
other side. Juma, more intelligent than the negroes, had seen at once
the necessity of striking while the garrison was engaged in that
quarter. But he was compelled to wait until he had sufficient support,
and by the time he had gathered a score of men about him the eastern
attack was beaten off, and the defenders were hurrying to meet him.
When Ferrier reached the wall, he saw the Swahilis and their followers
coming up the slope in a straggling body. The moment they perceived
him, they halted; those who had rifles fired them off, too hurriedly to
take effective aim; the others let fly a shower of arrows. Then they
all rushed forward, a disorderly shouting mob. Ferrier fired his rifle,
but his men had not had time to reload, having hastened from the bastion
immediately after the final volley upon the causeway. The enemy had
come within about twenty yards of the wall when Ferrier, whipping out
his revolver, snapped a shot at Juma and winged him. The big man fell
to the ground with a howl of pain; his men halted in consternation.
This was not the easy victory they had been promised. Their hesitation
was fatal. It had given time to the men on the wall to load their
pieces. A general fusillade spattered bullets among the waverers; it
quickened them into action, but instead of continuing their advance they
turned tail and bolted down the slope, pursued by a shower of arrows.
Juma had risen, and struggled along with the help of two of his kind.
They fled with all speed among the trees, and the garrison, yelling with
delight, saw them no more that day.