Ambuscading an Ambush
Approaching the River--Reconnoitring--The Fight on the Bluff--Checking a
Rush--Timely Help--A Hand-to-Hand Struggle--At Fault
Tom was that day amazed to see what could be done in an hour’s time by a
force of Askaris capably directed. By half-past twelve the officers’
tents had been rolled up, the baggage repacked, a meal swallowed, the
carriers marshalled, each with his proper load, and the order of march
arranged. Before one the whole column had moved out towards the scene
of the anticipated fight. Scouts led the way, under Lieutenant Mumford.
Then came the advance-guard, two companies of Askaris and a Maxim-gun,
with Captain Lister. At a short interval followed more Soudanese, with
Major Burnaby; then came the carriers with their guard, and finally the
rear-guard, of which Tom found himself in command. Dr. O’Brien hovered
about, first at one part of the column, then at another, in case of what
he called "evenshualities".
Before giving the order to march, the major beckoned Tom apart.
"Tom," he said, "here’s a rifle and a revolver for you. You know how to
use the rifle, at any rate. Fate seems to have a hand in this, and as
you’re here, you must make yourself useful."
Tom’s eyes gleamed as he took the weapon, and he mentally resolved to
bear himself worthily, whatever was in store. His elation was a little
dashed when his uncle went on:
"You’ll consider yourself in command of the rear-guard. Judging by your
conduct since you left Kisumu, you are able to win the respect of the
natives, and that’s everything. You’ll find the non-coms. a steady set
of men; and remember, you must rely on them and yourself. You mustn’t
worry me with questions about this, that, and t’other thing."
"All right, Uncle! I’m only too glad to be able to do anything."
"Very well then; I’ll send for you if I want you."
Tom wished that he could have been with the advance-guard, but he kept
that to himself, hoping that the chances of the day would give him an
opportunity of doing even the smallest thing to justify his uncle’s
confidence. Then the march began. Askaris and carriers tramped on in
single file, the Zanzibaris chattering and laughing in spite of the
loads on their heads, it being one of the crosses of the major’s
existence that their tongues were never still. Some of them had
kerosene cans slung round their necks, in clanging emptiness, for they
had not as yet been needed, the rivulets along the route having
furnished plenty of good drinking-water. Others carried bales and
provision-boxes cleverly poised on their heads, each load averaging from
forty to fifty pounds; while the rest bore large bags of onions (a
favourite food with the native troops), tent-poles, pots and kettles,
and other paraphernalia of the camp.
The pace was slow, and, thanks to the doctor’s careful ministrations,
Tom was able to keep up without difficulty. He would not confess even
to himself that a full day’s rest would have been grateful to him. The
mid-day sun beat down upon the marching column with scorching ferocity.
For some distance the narrow path led over rolling country, broken here
and there by rocky excrescences, with not an inch of shade, the only
relief being afforded now and again by a brook, in which the men bathed
their aching feet. At length, however, the appearance of scrub and
trees ahead proclaimed the proximity of a larger stream. Tom had been
wondering all the way what tactics his uncle would employ to checkmate
the plans of the Arabs. He saw now that scouts were being sent out on
each flank, and word was passed down the column for the carriers to
group themselves instead of marching in single file, and for the
rear-guard to close up. While moving in open country the major had
decided to make no change in the usual method of marching, so that
nothing might suggest to the enemy, if he was on the look-out, that any
special precautions were being taken. But now that the column had
entered a wooded region, and was nearing the expected scene of
operations, he thought it well to make his force more compact,
especially as the path had here broadened into quite a respectable road.
The scouts on the flanks had orders not to penetrate more than half a
mile into the forest on either side, the trees being close enough
together to prevent anything in the nature of a rush beyond that limit.
It was now nearly three o’clock. The major ordered the guide to be
brought to him, and questioned him on their distance from the river.
Learning that it was no more than three-quarters of a mile ahead, he
called a halt and sent for his officers.
"Now, gentlemen," he said to the little group, "I assume that the story
told by the guide is true. Our scouts have not sighted the enemy, which
is pretty clear proof that if there is an enemy at all he is hiding. I
am going to send sixteen picked men up the rear of the bluff--you see it
rising yonder--from which, according to these men, the logs are to be
flung down on to the bridge. Our fellows will dispose of the eight or
nine Arabs who, it appears, are to manage the logs. They will then give
the signal awaited by the enemy, who, we may suppose, are in hiding at
least half a mile up and down stream, and these will come on, expecting
to find us cut in two at the bridge and generally in confusion.--Well,
what is it, Mumford?"
"I was wondering, sir," began the lieutenant, rather taken aback at
finding his thoughts half-guessed-at by the major; "I was wondering what
would happen if our men failed to dispose of the Arabs on the bluff."
"The enemy’s plans would be spoilt, at any rate, and the engagement
would develop on other lines. But the chances are in our favour. The
bluff, as you see, is thickly wooded, and our men should be able to
creep up quite noiselessly and get within striking distance without
being seen. Besides, we will distract the enemy’s attention. Remember,
they are relying on our complete ignorance of their scheme. They will
be impatient to see us cross the bridge. Well, I shall send a few
scouts over to guard against a possible attack from the other side, and
Captain Lister, with two or three men, will feign a careful examination
of the bridge itself. The delay will probably be unexpected, and I
count on this to enable our men to scale the bluff unperceived.
"Meanwhile the carriers will park all the baggage in a semicircle about
the bridge head, under guard. I shall divide the force, taking part
with me to repel the attack from the north--Mumford, you will work the
Maxim--and leaving you, Lister, to meet the attack from the south.
Doctor, you will come with me, I think, as mine will be the larger
force; and Tom, you will remain in charge of the baggage."
Tom tried to look pleased, but his face fell in spite of him. There was
no help for it; he must obey orders and accept his strictly defensive
part with a good grace.
"I cannot tell you our precise positions yet until scouts have been up
and down the river and reported on the nature of the ground. Meanwhile,
Lister, you will send forward, say, five scouts over the bridge, and the
rest of us will move slowly behind you."
Tom’s pulse quickened as he listened to these plain directions. He
wished he could change places with Captain Lister, as that officer went
forward with the advance-guard to perform the task allotted him. In
less than fifteen minutes the bulk of the force reached the bridge head.
The scouts had already crossed, and were disappearing into the wooded
country beyond. Other scouts had been sent out on each flank to examine
the country up and down stream, and the captain, with two sergeants, was
inspecting the bridge with a critical eye. On reaching the river-bank
the major found that the water ran deep and the sides were precipitous.
The bluff was inaccessible except from the rear, rising sheer up from
the bed of the river and the path. Both up and down stream the country
was dotted with scrub, and at the distance of about a hundred yards on
each side of the path began a belt of forest, through, which the scouts
were picking their way in skirmishing order.
"We have less than three hours of daylight left," said the major to
Captain Lister at the bridge head, "so that we must put this business
through as rapidly as possible. I hope you ordered the scouts to
proceed cautiously, and not go too far. Half a mile will suit our book."
"Yes, and here are the down-stream fellows returning." A sergeant came
up to the major and reported that, having skirted the bluff and crossed
a belt of thin forest, he had come within six minutes to an open space,
with a frontage of about two hundred yards and a breadth of some four
hundred and fifty. This was absolutely free from trees or bush, but on
the other side of it the forest was much thicker.
"Depend upon it, then, the Arabs, if here at all, are hiding in the
forest beyond the clearing. We have them, Lister. If there are any
up-stream they are evidently farther away. As the forest is much denser
in that direction I think a hundred men with you will suffice to beat
off any attack on that side; you must get your men to cut down some
trees and form a rough abattis. The rest of the force will come
northwards with me. We must take advantage of that clearing. Now it’s
time to send up the bluff and account for the log-rollers; that will
prove conclusively how far these men have told the truth. I think we
understand each other."
Captain Lister nodded. In a few minutes his men were busy felling the
trees with the thickest foliage. They cut a wedge in the trunks with
their axes, then toppled them over in the same direction as the strokes
had fallen, so that they formed a high and almost impenetrable barrier.
Meanwhile Tom had already arranged the baggage in a semicircle about the
bridge head, hidden by a jutting rock from anyone who might be at the
summit of the bluff. Within the enclosure thus formed the carriers were
assembled, and the rampart itself was defended by twenty-five men.
Fifteen of the most trustworthy of the Askaris, under Sergeant Abdullah,
were by this time scaling the bluff from the rear, darting from tree to
tree with wonderful celerity, their feet bare, their right hands
clutching their rifles with bayonets fixed. They drew nearer and nearer
to the summit, maintaining as even a line as the nature of the ground
permitted, each man being about two yards from the next. When they came
within a few yards of the top, and saw by the growing light that beyond
them the trees had been felled, they moved still more warily. Thus they
advanced to the very edge of the forest, and halted. Peeping from
behind the trees they saw nine Arabs in front of them, not twenty paces
away. Some were talking in low excited whispers, two were lying flat on
their faces, peering over the three shaven tree-trunks that lay in
readiness at the very edge of the precipice, and turning occasionally to
make some comment on the proceedings.
[Illustration: Plan of the Battle of Imubinga.]
On the logs rested half a dozen short, strong poles, evidently to be
used as levers. The Arabs had expected the marching force to cross the
bridge at once, and the delay had at first caused them much amazement
and concern. But seeing the scouts pass over and scatter on the other
side, and the careful examination of the bridge made by Captain Lister
and his sergeants, they had apparently concluded that these were only
the white man’s usual measures of precaution, and were reassured. They
had themselves taken the precaution to post a sentry a hundred yards
down the bluff behind them, but this man, finding after a long delay
that nothing had happened, edged gradually nearer to his companions, and
when he saw them looking with intense interest over the ridge, his
curiosity was too much for him. He quickened his pace and joined them,
and from that moment caution was thrown to the winds.
Just as the Askaris reached the utmost verge of cover, and stood for an
instant to take breath after their climb, one of the Arabs gleefully
pointed to the scouts returning over the bridge. His companions
instantly moved towards the brink. Sergeant Abdullah saw that the moment
had arrived. He gave a nod to his men, they sprang forward with great
leaps, remembering the major’s injunction to make no noise. Before the
Arabs were aware of their danger the enemy were upon them. Seven of the
nine were despatched with the bayonet in a trice; one contrived to
inflict a terrible wound on his assailant before he too was stricken
down; the ninth man, with a howl of fright, sprang over the precipice
and disappeared into the stream below.
The first part of the task of the sixteen was accomplished. Climb and
all it had occupied but twenty minutes. There remained to give the
signal expected by the Arabs in hiding. On the ground lay a white flag
embroidered with the crescent. Abdullah stooped down, and hastily
divesting one of the fallen Arabs of his burnous, he threw it over his
own uniform, then picked up the flag, and walked northwards some thirty
yards along the bluff to the edge of the declivity, whence he obtained a
view of the open space and the forest beyond. Then he waved the flag,
making three curious circular movements with which he was clearly
familiar; he saw an answering signal from the edge of the forest more
than half a mile away; then he returned to his companions, and hurried
downhill with twelve of them to rejoin Captain Lister’s force, leaving
two to follow more leisurely with the man wounded.
In the meantime the major had rapidly moved his three hundred men
northwards through the woodland. On the way he left fifty of them in
open order on a wide arc to cover his right flank. Coming to the open
space reported by the scouts, he was overjoyed to find it an outcrop of
bare rock, broken in surface, cleft by fissures, and thus difficult to
advance over. His quick eye marked at a glance the possibilities of the
situation. He posted a hundred of his men about a yard apart, just
within the edge of the forest, and stationed a second hundred twenty
yards behind them as a reserve. The remaining fifty he told off to
guard the left flank against surprise from the river-bed. At the
extreme right of his position, a few yards in advance of the
firing-line, stood one solitary thorn bush growing on a patch of soft
earth amid the rock. This would form, as the major saw at once, an
excellent screen for the Maxim; but to place the gun in position at once
would certainly attract the attention of the Arabs. He therefore
ordered Lieutenant Mumford to be in readiness to move it forward as soon
as the enemy emerged from the wood.
"Now, my men," he said to the sergeants when his dispositions were
complete, "when the signal is given from the bluff the Arabs will come
out of the forest yonder and cross this open space. They know nothing,
as I hope and trust, of our presence. They will not expect us here.
Reserve your fire till they are within two hundred and fifty yards--the
bugle will give the signal,--then fire. That will check the rush for a
moment. There will be time for a second volley; then be ready to
charge. Mr. Mumford, you will bring the Maxim into action as soon as
they are well out in the open. Now mind, men," he added, turning sternly
to the eager Askaris, "not a whisper till the word is given."
The men stood at their posts, fixing their keen eyes on the trees a
quarter of a mile in front of them, their mouths set, their nostrils
quivering. It was a trying ordeal. Minute after minute went by, and
still there was no sign of the enemy. The men began to fidget, and the
major, knowing the impetuous nature of the Soudanese, feared lest a
single incautious movement or exclamation should wreck his plans. Then
suddenly a hundred doors seemed to open in the green wall opposite, and
out of them poured almost noiselessly a flood of tall, white-robed,
turbaned Arabs. They kept no order, expecting to find their enemy in
confusion by the bridge. In this careless confidence they rushed on
pell-mell, clutching their rifles by the middle. Over the rocky ground
they came, bounding like panthers, making no sound save with their quick
breathing, eager, exultant, some waving flags, their leaders brandishing
scimitars, a few with silent drums jolting against their thighs. Then a
bugle rang out clear and shrill; from the trees and undergrowth in their
front flashed forth a withering volley. The nearest of them went down
like grass before the mower. There was an awful silence, broken only by
the groans of wounded and dying men. Those of the foremost Arabs who
were left alive halted in consternation, hesitating whether to advance
or fly. But behind them a host of their Manyema allies was thronging
from the woods. These had heard the volley, but had seen nothing of its
effect. Imagining that the expected collision had taken place earlier
than had been anticipated they pressed on furiously, now uttering savage
cries, beating drums, invoking Allah and the Prophet. Thus the halted
front ranks were driven on by the mass behind; Arabs and Manyema were
crowded together in an unwieldy congested heap. Another volley rang out
in front of them; the rattle of the Maxim, now playing across the
crowded space, added its terrors to the scene. The stricken host fell
in heaps before the pitiless hail of lead; then, in uncontrollable
panic, they turned tail and fled, trampling each other down in their
terror, carrying all before them in one irresistible rush to the shelter
of the wood.
And now, with a fierce yell, the Soudanese darted after them with the
bayonet. But in the lull that followed the first wild onset, the
major’s ear caught the sound of heavy firing in his rear. Captain
Lister was evidently engaged. The major at once recalled the men from
their pursuit, and, leaving Lieutenant Mumford with a hundred rifles to
meet a renewed attack should the enemy recover from their panic, he
hurried back with the main part of his force to support the hundred with
Captain Lister up-stream.
He found the little body hard pressed. At the sound of firing to the
north, a force of three hundred and fifty Arabs, supported by nearly
five hundred natives, had emerged from their place of concealment in the
forest. Checked in their rush by the abattis, they had made a second
impetuous charge, losing heavily from the well-directed volleys of
Captain Lister’s men. But they had soon perceived the smallness of the
force opposed to them, and, dividing into two bands, they made
simultaneous attacks at both ends of the line. The Soudanese at the
river-end staggered, and, being more exposed than the rest of the line,
gave way. Instantly a few score Arabs broke through, and, true to their
rapacious instincts, made direct for the baggage. Tom, who had been
eating his heart out with impatience, saw that he was likely after all
to have his fill of fighting. It seemed almost impossible that his
handful of men could hold their own against the wild rush of the enemy,
but the steady nerve which had served him so well in many a mimic battle
did not fail him in this his first experience of real warfare. Bidding
his men kneel and rest their rifles on the piled boxes, he waited till
the Arabs were within fifty yards, then gave the order to fire. The
assailants broke like a wave upon a rock. The most of them fell prone;
a few, with desperate courage, came on till the Askaris could almost
feel their breath; then cold steel completed what the bullet had begun.
In the meantime the other end of the British line was yielding before
repeated rushes, being hampered by the necessity of guarding the left
flank against the black crowds of Manyema pressing perilously near. It
was at this critical moment that the major returned with his exultant
troops. Charging downhill at tremendous speed, they swept to the
support of their comrades, and after a severe hand-to-hand fight against
great odds, they drove the enemy steadily back into the forest, with
terrible loss.
It was now half-past four. The fight at the clearing having been won
without a single casualty on the British side, Dr. O’Brien was free to
attend to the thirty wounded men who, with about half as many dead, bore
witness to the severity of the struggle by the abattis. Meanwhile,
Captain Lister was leading his men in pursuit of the fugitives.
Suddenly the crackle of musketry broke out again far away to the
north-east. The major turned at the sound. He caught sight of the
rampart of baggage, of the stricken forms lying close beneath it, of Tom
standing among his men.
"Tom," he said, with quick resolution, "I want you to take your
unwounded men up to Mumford and see if he is really being attacked
again. Some of the less severely wounded can guard the baggage. If he
wants help send your boy or one of the men back to me, and I’ll move up
in support."
The major’s tone was quiet and matter-of-fact, as though his command was
quite in the ordinary course of things. Tom needed no repetition of the
order; vowing that Uncle Jack was a brick, he started at once with
twenty-five men and Mbutu. He had been hoping against hope for such a
moment. Only with the greatest difficulty had he refrained from leaping
into the fray by the abattis when he saw Captain Lister so hard pressed
and defending his position so gallantly.
He reached Lieutenant Mumford’s force at an opportune moment. The Arab
chief, after his men had been hurled back by the enemy, had striven
desperately to rally them. Collecting some two hundred and fifty of the
survivors, and hearing, as the major had done, the sound of brisk firing
to the south, he conceived the idea of making a circuit and joining his
friends above the bridge. He had already made some progress in that
direction, and had actually come into touch with the extended line of
flankers, when he was informed by a scout, whom he had sent to
reconnoitre, that the British commander was withdrawing the larger part
of his force to the assistance of a second body up-stream. The Arab
instantly wheeled round; his band was being augmented every moment by
returning fugitives, and he saw an opportunity to fall upon and
overwhelm the small British force left behind. Lieutenant Mumford
quickly divined his intention, and foresaw the direction of the
threatened attack. He at once changed front, and, turning the Maxim
round at right angles to its former position, left it in the hands of a
non-commissioned officer, while he himself took the general command. He
posted his men on two sides of a square, thus forming a wedge. The
position was partly protected by undergrowth, but the trees were not so
close together as to afford complete cover, and the advantage of the
ground lay rather with the massing Arabs.
Tom arrived just as a first charge had been repulsed. Firing in
sections, the Soudanese had laid many of the Arabs low, and the onset
was checked for a moment. But the Arab chief was in no mood to brook
cowardice or hesitation. Conspicuous by his huge stature and a red sash
over his shoulder, he rallied his men once more. They came on through
the scrub, with defiant cries of "Allah-il-Allah!" firing as they came,
and taking advantage of cover to make rushes and draw nearer and nearer
to the British lines. Tom’s twenty-five men were a welcome
reinforcement, for a dozen of the little force were already _hors de
combat_, and the Maxim had jammed. Quickly ranging themselves with their
comrades, the new-comers brought their rifles to their shoulders and
fired, and once more the Arab advance was checked.
"Couldn’t we try a charge?" suggested Tom to the lieutenant. "My men
are eager to have at the enemy."
"Yes; now is the moment. It’s touch and go. Men, fix bayonets;
charge!"
Mumford at the left of the line, Tom at the right, followed immediately
by Mbutu, they sprang forward with a resounding cheer. Past the bushes,
dodging in and out among the trees, the gallant little force made at the
enemy. The Arabs had collected in a comparatively clear space within
the forest, and as the charging Askaris came upon them they parted into
two bands, which moved away from each other as though to take the
attacking party on both flanks. Mumford immediately wheeled half his
line to the left, shouting to Tom to deal similarly with the right-hand
body.
"Now, my boys," cried Tom, "we’ve not done much to-day. It’s our turn at
last. Come along!"
The willing men followed him with a yell. No turbaned force could stand
against them. The Arabs broke and scattered, and the headstrong Askaris
dashed after them in mad pursuit. The chief, with half a dozen devoted
followers, made a gallant attempt to check the rush. He stood, a giant
among his men, swinging his curved scimitar, passionately objurgating
the fugitives, and even cutting some of them down as they ran. But
neither his example nor his threats availed to stay the rout. His men
fled for their lives. He himself seemed to bear a charmed life; though
he formed so conspicuous a target, he was as yet untouched. Now Tom
marked him as he stood in deep impotent wrath, alone, save for a
body-guard of four. Tom’s eye flashed with a sudden resolve.
[Illustration: A Mêlée in the Forest]
"Mbutu," he cried, "and you, Sadi, come with me and capture that big
fellow. Now, one, two, three--with me, boys!"
Giving his rifle to Mbutu he sprang forward, revolver in hand, followed
by the Muhima and a huge Somali private, who had been laying about him
doughtily with his rifle clubbed. The chief saw the three speeding
towards him, and like a gallant warrior stayed to face his foe. The
Somali, leaping with tremendous strides, was the first to get to close
quarters. With his clubbed rifle he beat down the bayonet of one of the
Arabs and stretched him upon the ground; but it was his last stroke, for
the chief made a lunge forward, and with his keen blade pierced him to
the heart. He fell against Tom, knocking his helmet off his head, and
out of his hand the revolver with which he had just accounted for one of
the chief’s body-guard. Quick as thought Tom pounced on the fallen
man’s rifle, and was erect again just in time to beat off the descending
scimitar. It was now a desperate hand-to-hand fight, bayonet against
sword. The red beams of the setting sun caught the curved blade as it
swept about Tom’s head and body, but not for an instant did his keen eye
falter. Following his opponent’s every movement, and grasping the rifle
firmly with both hands, he parried thrust and beat aside lunge, ready to
strike home if he saw the hair’s-breadth of an opportunity. Now the
lessons of the sergeant-major at school bore good fruit; and if that
officer could have seen the flower of his cadet corps bearing himself so
manfully in this fierce duel, he would have owned himself content.
All this time Mbutu, agile as a cat, had been desperately engaging the
two remaining Arabs, determined to prevent them from going to the
chief’s assistance, and burning to pay off old scores upon the kindred
of his former persecutors. The level rays of the sun, coming from
behind his back, dazzled his opponents’ eyes, so that they had much ado
to elude the thrusts of his bayonet. At length he got within the guard
of one of them, and wounded him in the sword-arm. As they fought they
had edged close up to where Tom and the Arab were still in deadly
conflict. With indomitable pluck the wounded Arab stooped, picked up
his sword with his left hand, and before Mbutu, now hotly engaged with
the last man, could interpose, the Arab smote at Tom from below with a
stroke which wounded his defenceless head, and he fell to the ground.
That same instant, Mbutu ran the fourth man through the body, and,
turning to despatch the wounded Arab, received a deep cut from the
chief’s sword in his right shoulder.
Only Tom’s fallen body, impeding the Arab, saved the Muhima from a
second desperate blow. The blood-stained scimitar was raised to strike
a third time, when a distant bugle rang out. The chief’s arm was stayed
in mid-air; he gazed eagerly over Mbutu’s head into the forest. No
British troops were to be seen; but the Arab, after a moment’s
irresolution, appeared to decide that the bugle-call was the signal for
another advance, and fearing to be cut off entirely from his friends, he
turned and disappeared among the trees. Mbutu, however, had recognized
the notes of the recall, and wondered what he was to do. He bent down
to examine his master’s prostrate body. Finding that he still breathed,
he tried to lift him, but loss of blood from his wound and his own
fierce exertions had exhausted him, and he laid Tom gently down, feeling
anxious and distressed. A minute’s consideration showed him that he
must follow the retiring troops and bring assistance. He started at
once in the gathering darkness, but being weaker than he had supposed,
he could walk but slowly. It was more than half an hour before he
reached the British lines, just after Lieutenant Mumford had rejoined
the major, who had set his men to form a strong zariba. To the major’s
anxious enquiry for Tom, Mumford replied that, having seen him go off to
the right and not return, he had taken it for granted that he would come
into touch with the main body. At this moment Mbutu staggered up. In
faint, laboured tones he explained what had happened, and begged that a
party might be sent at once to bring his master in.
The major gave a gasp of relief when he heard that his nephew, though
wounded, was still alive.
"Thank God!" he exclaimed. ’"Now to find him before it is quite dark."
The major himself, with twenty men, accompanied Mbutu in search of his
master. The Muhima nearly fainted as he started, and Dr. O’Brien,
giving him some brandy and hastily bandaging the torn shoulder, declared
that he too must go in case of "evenshualities". The party hurried off,
and went as quickly as Mbutu’s condition permitted, supported as he was
between Fadl and Abdullah. With native sureness he led them, as the sun
set across the river, straight to the spot where he had left his master.
It was just light enough to see several human forms strewn upon the
trampled grass. Mbutu bent down to examine the bodies, and the little
party shivered as the long whine of a jackal came swelling up from the
distance, waking its echo from the rocky escarpments of the river. The
Muhima went swiftly from body to body, then uttered a forlorn and
heart-broken cry.
"Not here! not here!" bewailed.
Major Burnaby and the doctor both stooped in consternation. There were
five bodies. One was that of Sadi the Somali, the rest were Arabs. Tom
was no longer there!
A dreadful silence fell upon the group. Mbutu stood as though
paralysed. The major and Dr. O’Brien looked mutely into each other’s
eyes.
"Toots!" ejaculated the doctor at length, giving himself an impatient
shake. "Recovered consciousness and walked off, of course he did.
That’s what it is, to be sure. Must have been a slight wound, you see."
"What can we do, Doctor?" said the major. "We can’t search for him in
the dark; we might be cut down by the Arabs anywhere. The moon rises
late; he will hardly find his way."
"Get back to camp and blow a blast on your bugles and send up rockets;
he will hear one or see t’other, and come into camp. Never fear, that
young fellow’s safe enough. He didn’t come dancing here from the ends of
the earth to be sent to kingdom-come by Arabs."
Dr. O’Brien’s cheerfulness, though it was more than half assumed,
somewhat reassured the major. The party returned rapidly to camp, and
there bugles were blown and rockets skied as had been suggested. But
though the blare and the illumination were continued far into the night,
the major watched for Tom in vain, shuddering as he heard the melancholy
howl of jackals far and near, and longing for the dawn.