THE FIGHT FOR THE SEAPLANE
At dawn Wilmshurst left the camp, accompanied by the full platoon, to
attempt the salving of the crippled seaplane. It was a comparatively
easy matter to follow the tracks of the two airmen, for the
down-trodden grass and the frequent sights of wisps of clothing
adhering to the briars and thorns were evidences of a spoor that even
an indifferent scout could determine.
"Those two johnnies must have had a rough time of it," thought the
subaltern. "I can well imagine their difficulties. It's a wonder they
got to the camp at all, for there are distinct spoors of lions. What's
that, Bela Moshi?"
"Big rhino him come by," reported the sergeant, pointing to heavy
depression on the ground. What he meant was that a rhinoceros had cut
across the bush path not so very long ago, as the freshly trampled
grass showed.
"All right," replied Wilmshurst. "Warn the men to be on the alert. We
don't want casualties."
Bela Moshi hurried to the head of the column, for the Haussas were in
single file, owing to the narrowness of the bush-path.
At that moment the platoon was crossing a dried water-course, the
ground shelving steeply on both sides. The subaltern had an almost
uninterrupted view of the heads and shoulders of the men preceding him
as the foremost began the stiff ascent beyond the nullah.
Suddenly the Haussas broke right and left, uttering warning shouts.
Charging down the narrow track was a huge animal of the buffalo tribe,
commonly known in Central Africa as a "bush-cow."
The ground trembled under the thud of the brute's ponderous weight as
it rushed at terrific speed to attack the khaki-clad blacks.
One man alone stood his ground. Dropping on one knee he fired straight
at the centre of the tufts of hair that concealed the animal's eyes,
the range being less than thirty yards.
Dudley heard the almost simultaneous crash of the rifle and the thud of
the bullet against the bush-cow's frontal-bone, but apparently unharmed
the animal continued its headlong rush.
Too late the plucky Haussa attempted to avoid the impetus by springing
aside. Even as he leapt to his feet the man was caught by the lowered
head of the ferocious brute and tossed ten feet in the air.
Across the bed of the dried-up stream the bush-cow charged, until
Wilmshurst hurriedly came to the conclusion that it was quite time for
him to dodge behind a tree. As he made for shelter he saw the animal's
fore-legs collapse and its ponderous carcass plough the ground.
Making his way through the press of excited Haussas Wilmshurst saw that
the bush-cow was stone dead. The bullet had penetrated the brain,
entering by a neatly-drilled puncture and emerging by a hole as large
as a man's fist. Yet, although hit in a vital spot, the animal had
covered a distance of nearly fifty yards before collapsing.
"One no go," declared Bela Moshi. "Anoder him lib for come plenty
quick."
"Think so?" remarked the subaltern. "Then don't stand bunched up
together--extend. Three of you lift Nara Gilul into the shade."
Anxiously Wilmshurst examined the brave but unfortunate black. Nara
Gilul was fully conscious in spite of having fallen on his head, but
two of his ribs were fractured and his shins were badly cut although
protected by his puttees.
"Nara Gilul him stop till we come back," suggested the corporal of his
section in answer to Dudley's question as to what was to be done. "Him
'ab rifle an' ammunition. Him lib to take care ob himsel'. Berry much
him fault."
"That won't do, corporal," said Wilmshurst. "We must send him back.
Take five men with you. It will be only two hours' trek."
Accordingly the Haussas set to work to make a stretcher, performing the
task with wonderful celerity. They were on the point of lifting the
helpless man when the shout was raised.
"Bush-cow, him come!"
"Take cover, all of you!" shouted the subaltern, loath to hamper his
task by additional casualties.
The Haussas obeyed with one exception--Bela Moshi.
The sergeant, slipping a clip into the magazine, stood right in the
centre of the path along which the second bush-cow was tearing, eager
to avenge its mate.
Wilmshurst made no further attempt to order Beta Moshi to take refuge.
He realised that to do so would flurry the imperturbable sergeant, but
he was entirely at a loss to understand why the Haussa was apparently
courting disaster in precisely the same way as the luckless Nara Gilul
had done.
A rifle bolt clicked in the bush on the sergeant's flank.
"Unload!" he hissed, knowing that the risk he ran from an excited man
with a loaded rifle was greater than that confronting him.
At a terrific pace the bush-cow bore down. Twenty yards from the
motionless man the brute lowered its head. In that position its vision
was obscured by the thick tufts of long hair. Having taken its final
"sighting position" the animal relied upon its momentum to achieve the
destruction of its human enemy.
The moment the bush-cow lowered its head Bela Moshi, with every sense
on the alert, leapt sideways behind a tree. Then, as the infuriated
quadruped thundered past, the Haussa brought his rifle to the shoulder
and fired.
Thirty yards further the bush-cow dropped and died with a bullet
through its heart, while the victor, grinning as only a black can grin,
strode magnificently up to his victim and planted one foot upon the
quivering carcass.
The injured man having been sent back and the carcasses of the two
animals dragged aside--they would provide excellent meat if the task of
sun drying the flesh was not unduly delayed--the march was resumed,
until on gaining the summit of a low hill the wings of the broken-down
seaplane were visible as they rose obliquely above the scanty scrub at
a distance of nearly two miles.
Halting his men, Wilmshurst made a careful survey of the ground by
means of his binoculars. A number of large birds--_aasvogels_, or
African vultures--were circling over the derelict. It was therefore
safe to conclude that no human being, unless helpless to lift a hand,
was in the vicinity.
In the midst of his investigations Tari Barl approached with a
self-satisfied smile on his ebony features.
"Askari him foots, sah!" he reported, holding up three fingers of his
right hand to indicate that he had discovered the spoor of three of the
German native soldiery.
"H'm!" muttered Dudley. "That's rotten news. New spoor, Tarry Barrel?"
The Haussa nodded vehemently, and led his officer to the footprints.
Examination showed that three natives had been following the spoor of
the two naval airmen. The firm tread of the latter--for at that stage
of the journey they were comparatively fresh--was partly obliterated by
the typical imprints of a black walking stealthily on his toes, for the
impress of the heels hardly occurred. The Askaris had abandoned the
trail a short distance from the brow of the hill, for there were marks
where they had stood and debated, and the spoor leading in a
north-westerly direction showed that they had gone by a different route
from the one they had followed. This track did not lead in the
direction of the stranded seaplane, so Wilmshurst conjectured that the
Askaris had made straight for their main body, possibly with the
intention of bringing men to recover the trophy.
Again the subaltern levelled his glasses and swept the skyline.
Wending their way down a bare kloof were about two hundred armed blacks
and three men in European garb riding in the centre of the column.
"MacGreg him dar, sah!" exclaimed Bela Moshi.
"Nonsense!" replied Wilmshurst, yet in his heart he was not at all sure
but that the Haussa was right.
"MacGreg him make palaver with Bosh-bosh," declared the sergeant.
It was a contest between a pair of high-powered field glasses and the
eyesight of a native. Vainly Wilmshurst wiped the lenses and looked
and looked again without being able to satisfy himself that Bela
Moshi's statement was correct.
"Here, you boy!" said the sergeant addressing Tari Barl. "You come
here an' use yer eyes all one time quick. Say who am white man on der
black horse."
"Me tink MacGreg him come," replied Tari Barl after a brief survey.
"No; me no tink me know."
Wilmshurst waited inactive. Until the approaching hostile column had
descended from the high ground and the men were deep in the bush,
attempt on the part of the Haussas to advance from the ridge would
result in the latter's detection. So, holding the men well under cover
Wilmshurst kept the Huns under observation until it was safe to attempt
a surprise.
Long before the extended line of troops had marched into the
scrub-laden valley, the subaltern was forced to come to the conclusion
that MacGregor was not only with the enemy, but obviously one of them.
As the distance decreased he could make out the man's features, quite
distinctly, and could see him talking volubly with the German officers
on either side.
The Askaris were numerically far stronger than Wilmshurst's platoon,
but the Haussas had a great advantage--that of being the surprising
force. In bush fighting especially this is a decided advantage, since
the closeness of the ground prevents the troops attacked knowing the
number or disposition of their opponents, while the moral effect of a
sudden rush of well-armed and disciplined men upon enemies practically
unprepared for the onslaught cannot be under-estimated.
"MacGreg him make for maquisha," declared Bela Moshi grimly, as he
carefully blacked the foresight of his rifle.
"Maquisha" in the Haussa language signifies something more than
finished. A man might say, "I've finished eating," for example, and
yet in a few hours he will be again satisfying his hunger, but
"maquisha" signifies finished in the penultimate sense--the final
extermination of a certain person or thing.
"No, no, Bela Moshi," said Wilmshurst decidedly. "We want MacGreg
taken prisoner. That's important. Pass the word along; tell the men
that there's a month's pay to the Haussa who takes MacGreg alive."
It was rather a tall order, and Wilmshurst knew it. MacGregor, now
openly a traitor, would not be likely to surrender in view of the fact
that a drum-head court-martial and an ignominious death in front of a
firing-party would certainly be his fate.
Returning his field glasses and confidently snapping the lid of the
case Wilmshurst gave the word to advance in open order. He had decided
upon a position about two hundred yards short of the derelict aircraft,
guessing that the still unsuspecting enemy would concentrate upon that
objective, and thus form a compact and easy target for the Haussas'
rifles.
Naturally concluding that the airmen had chosen the most open stretch
of ground available for the purpose of making their landing, Wilmshurst
found that his judgment was sound. Right in the centre of the valley
the scrub was almost entirely absent, the ground being covered with
grass little more than ankle deep in height and absolutely devoid of
cover over a belt of nearly four hundred yards in width.
Up to a certain point the Huns showed caution, for presently two
Askaris, pushing on ahead of the main body, came into view. That they
expected no danger was apparent from the fact that they had their
rifles slung. At the sight of the derelict seaplane they stood
stock-still, for it was the first aircraft at rest that they had seen.
Then bounding across the intervening stretch of grass they wandered
round and round the machine, jabbering and pointing out to each other
various parts of the aeroplane that particularly struck their attention.
The shrill blasts of a whistle diverted their thoughts into another
direction. The officer in charge of the Askari column had signalled to
the scouts to advance and examine the scrub beyond the place where the
seaplane stood.
Like well-trained dogs the two native soldiers obeyed, and with their
rifles still slung they hastened towards the position occupied by the
alert Haussas, passing between two clumps of cacti behind which were
hiding Tari Barl, No Go, Double-headed Penny and two more of No. 1
Section.
The Haussas let them pass. Unsuspicious the Askaris proceeded until
their movements were hidden from their friends by the intervening
scrub, then with hardly a sound the five lithe and muscular Waffs leapt
upon them.
Before the startled men could even utter a gurgle they were lying flat
on their backs, unable to move hand or foot, while a hand laid over
their mouths and a keen-edged bayonet laid across their throats warned
them that silence was the only alternative to sudden death.
Accepting the former choice the prisoners were bound and gagged, and
taken a hundred yards or so into the bush, a Haussa mounting guard over
them to make sure that the wily Askaris did not slip their bonds.
Wilmshurst's anxiety was now the thought that the main body would not
emerge from the bush, since the two scouts were not able to signal that
all was well. Several minutes passed, but still the German troops
failed to debouch from the scrub.
A stealthy footstep behind him made the subaltern turn his head. To
his surprise he saw Bela Moshi rigged out in the uniform and equipment
of one of the captives.
"Me give Bosh-bosh de word 'Come on' one time quick, sah," he
announced. "Me know how."
Wilmshurst did not think fit to enquire how the resourceful sergeant
acquired the information. There are times when an officer does well
not to question his subordinate's actions.
"Very good, carry on," he whispered.
Standing in a gap between two clumps of bushes Bela Moshi, grasping his
rifle a few inches from the muzzle, held the weapon vertically above
his head moving it to and fro five or six times.
The decoy signal was almost immediately answered by the appearance of
the main body of the Askaris and with them the three Europeans, who
were still mounted.
Wilmshurst let them approach until the foremost Askaris were within a
hundred yards of the seaplane. They were now in no semblance of order,
surging impetuously forward, their officers towering head and shoulders
above the throng.
Sharp and shrill rang out the subaltern's whistle. A volley, crisp and
clear, burst from the line of admirably concealed Haussas, then each
man "let rip" as fast as he could withdraw, and thrust home the bolt of
his rifle and bring the weapon to his shoulder.
It was such a tremendous surprise that for a moment the Askaris, save
those who dropped, stood stock still. Then, panic-stricken, they broke
and fled, the German officers setting them the example.
As the so-called MacGregor wheeled his horse Bela Moshi, who had
withheld his fire, saw his opportunity. At five hundred yards he sent
a bullet crashing through the devoted animal's head. Like a stone the
horse dropped, throwing its rider to the earth.
By some means the dried grass took fire, the flames crackling and
roaring as they spread with great rapidity, fortunately away from the
broken-down seaplane. Through the whirling clouds of smoke could be
faintly discerned the backs of the fugitives, many of whom dropped as
they ran with a Haussa's bullet betwixt their shoulder blades, while
remorselessly the devouring element made its way in the direction of
the place where the traitor had fallen.
So complete was the demoralization of the foe that Wilmshurst had now
no hesitation in ordering an advance at the double. Although the
German levies still greatly outnumbered the Haussas the former had--in
Tommy parlance--"the wind up properly," and numerical superiority no
longer counted.
With fixed bayonets the platoon swept forward. Over the path of the
fire the Haussas rushed, the still glowing embers failing to deter
them, their bare feet notwithstanding. Yelling and shouting they
pursued their foes, sweeping aside all isolated attempts at resistance,
until the remnants of the hostile column were driven more than two
miles from the scene of their surprise.
It took considerable efforts on the part of the non-commissioned
officer to make the highly-elated Haussas desist from pursuit, but
Wilmshurst knew too well the rashness of a prolonged chase through
difficult country. Retiring, picking up wounded and prisoners as they
went, the Waffs re-formed on arriving at the open belt of ground where
the brilliant little victory had commenced.
By this time the scrub was well alight, fanned by the strong
south-easterly breeze. The fire was also working against the wind, but
the concerted efforts of the Haussas prevented it approaching the
derelict aircraft.
In vain a search was made for the traitor who was known to the Haussas
as MacGreg. His horse, surrounded by half a dozen badly-charred
corpses, was discovered, but of the rider there were no signs.
Reluctantly Wilmshurst was forced to come to the conclusion that
fortune had favoured the recreant, and that under cover of the dense
smoke the fellow had either crawled away or else had been carried by
some of the Askaris.