PREPARATIONS
"Well, sergeant; how many casualties?"
Bela Moshi, wearing a broad smile, saluted.
"Brass Pot, him head-bone blown inside out," he replied, as cheerfully
as only a Haussa can when reporting losses amongst his comrades.
"Nimshi Pali, him no good--maquisha. Dat all dead, but plenty much
Haussa hurt--so many."
He indicated by means of his fingers that fifteen were more or less
seriously wounded, a fairly heavy toll of the sixty odd men who had
paraded that morning. Nevertheless, the sacrifice had not been made in
vain, for a numerically stronger force had been completely routed with
the loss of eighteen left dead upon the field, and thirty-eight wounded
and unwounded prisoners, together with fifty-nine Mauser rifles, which,
for want of transport, were smashed after the bolt action of each had
been removed.
Having taken proper precautions against a surprise counter-attack,
although such a step was unlikely in view of the demoralization of the
defeated force, Wilmshurst directed his attention to the object of the
expedition--the saving of the seaplane.
West African natives are as a rule good carpenters and blacksmiths, and
the Haussas were no exception. Under Wilmshurst's directions they set
to work to dismantle the machine, removing the planes as carefully and
expeditiously as a party of crack mechanics from the Royal Air Force
factories. One of the floats was badly smashed, but the other was
practically intact except for a small jagged hole in the three-ply
mahogany.
In a couple of hours the machine was ready for transport across five
miles of bush country, although, fortunately, the ground was fairly
level.
A pair of mountain gun wheels on a broad base-line had been brought for
the purpose, and the chassis, engine included, was rested on the axle.
Relays of men steadied and propelled the heavy load, others armed with
axes and entrenching spades going on ahead to clear the path. Other
parties transported the floats and planes, while advance and rear
guards and flankers were thrown out to guard against a possible
surprise, while an escort had to be provided for the prisoners.
With frequent halts it was not surprising that the rate of progress was
roughly one and a half miles an hour, and it was close on sunset when
the rescued seaplane arrived at the banks of a small river, where the
Waffs, having struck camp in the vicinity of Gwelba, had only just
marched in.
Colonel Quarrier was delighted with Wilmshurst's report and personally
complimented him upon the way in which he had accomplished the
difficult task with which he had been entrusted, and also the brilliant
little action, which was quite unexpected.
"Pity you didn't either plug or capture that worthless scoundrel
MacGregor," he remarked, for there was now no doubt about the utter
faithlessness of the supposed Rhodesian. "A man like that will cause
more trouble than a dozen machine-guns. I suppose, in the course of
former conversations with him, you did not detect any trace of a
foreign accent?"
"None whatever, sir," replied Dudley.
"Or mannerisms?"
Again the subaltern replied in the negative.
"I can only hope," continued Colonel Quarrier, "that the fellow isn't
an Englishman. It is just possible that he is of German nationality,
and that long years of residence either in Great Britain or the
colonies has enabled him to totally suppress his Hunnish accent and
traits, although it is almost an impossible matter to eradicate his
sympathies for his kultured Fatherland. 'Once a German, always a
German,' you know."
Having been dismissed by his colonel, Dudley was questioned and
congratulated by Captain Manners, the adjutant, who also expressed
regret that the so-called MacGregor had contrived to escape capture.
The members of the "Lone Star Crush" were boisterously warm in their
congratulations, chaffing the subaltern as well as they knew; but
Wilmshurst, alive to the mannerisms of his brother-officers, took their
facetious remarks in good part.
The two officer-airmen added their thanks and good wishes. They were
still too weak to walk any distance and had to be carried in
roughly-constructed "dhoolies" by the Haussas. Their relief on
learning that the seaplane was safely alongside the river was great,
especially when they were promised that the work of repairing the
floats would be put in hand forthwith.
"Your C.O. evidently wants to get rid of us," declared the pilot
smiling. "A crippled 'bus hampers the mobility of the column. We
heard that a runner came in just now before we left Gwelba, with the
news that an ammunition column and details are on their way up-country.
We've sent down for more petrol, so things look rosy--thanks
principally to you."
"That's nothing," expostulated Wilmshurst. "Merely returning good for
evil--that's all."
"'Returning good for evil,'" repeated the pilot. "I don't understand
you."
"Let me explain," continued Dudley, laughing at the thought of
disillusioning the airmen. "A day or two ago my platoon were posted on
the M'ganga road. We were just settling down nicely to give Fritz a
warm welcome when you two fellows started dropping bombs on us."
"Good heavens!" ejaculated the observer. "We thought we were strafing
a mob of Huns. No damage, I trust?"
"You would have heard of it before now if there had been," replied
Wilmshurst. "The nearest one just dusted some of my men, that's all.
We couldn't get you to see that we were a Haussa platoon, and I had a
nice old job keeping my men in hand. They wanted to take pot shots at
you. By the bye, what made you chuck it--clear out after dropping only
a few bombs?"
"Our last, fortunately for you," said the pilot. "I say, what a frost!
An' we claimed four direct hits, didn't we?"
"We did," corroborated the other dourly. "We seriously considered the
idea of giving you a couple of trays of Lewis gun ammunition, Mr.
Wilmshurst. You'd be surprised how difficult it is to distinguish
between British and German native troops from any height. By the bye,
did you find a mahogany box in the fuselage? Good! it contains
undeveloped photograph plates. One we took of your position. I'll
send along a print when we get back to our base. It will interest you."
The Waffs were to remain in camp for three days, pending the arrival of
the convoy. Even had the latter not been expected the Haussas were
temporarily rendered immobile by the presence of the crippled seaplane
and her crew, and also by the number of prisoners. The captive Askaris
were subjected to a strict examination, with the result that it was
discovered that Robert MacGregor was really a German, and a person of
some official capacity, since he was on friendly terms with the Hun
commandant, while an Askari sergeant gave the traitor's name with great
distinctness, Ulrich von Gobendorff, adding that the German used to
have charge of a fortified post at Twashi in the Narewenda Hills.
"That's not so very many miles from the Rhodesian border," thought
Wilmshurst, as he made a note of the name in his pocket-book. "I
wonder if we are ever likely to operate in that district?"
Other information given by the prisoners fixed the position of a German
entrenched post held by three native regiments and a handful of whites,
at M'ganga, under the command of von Lindenfelt.
"M'ganga? I thought this was M'ganga," exclaimed the puzzled adjutant,
referring to a map. "Ask the prisoner how far he marched and in what
direction before he was captured?"
The man having replied, Captain Manners was able to locate the spot.
On the German-inspired maps it was shown as a place, whereas, according
to the Askari's description M'ganga was a fairly extensive table-land,
precipitous on three sides, while on the fourth the ground descended in
a series of slight terraces to a broad but shallow river, fordable at a
dozen places, within a distance of a couple of miles.
"If only the beggars will stand," exclaimed Colonel Quarrier, "the
place will be well worth going for. With our small force a turning
movement seems rather a tall order. Of course, if we can get in touch
with the Pathan regiments at Kilmoro--and there's a detachment of
Rhodesian Light Horse, too, I believe."
"Yes, sir," agreed the senior major. "If we can co-operate--cannot we
send a runner, sir? He'll be back before the ammunition and a supply
column comes in."
In quick time the repairs to the seaplane were completed, and the craft
moored afloat in a wide expanse of the river. Owing to the difficult
country, where an aeroplane fitted with landing-wheels would be at a
loss to find a suitable spot to alight, a seaplane stood a better
chance, owing to the presence of several wide rivers, and here the Sea
Service machines of the Royal Air Force scored over the German
aircraft; most of which were already _hors de combat_, and could not be
replaced owing to the lack of material and the cutting off of German
East Africa from practically all communication without.
On hearing of the proposed attack upon von Lindenfelt the naval airmen,
who were rapidly recovering from the effect of their arduous and
perilous trek, volunteered to remain and co-operate. For observation
purposes and machine-gunning the Huns they would be able to render
yeoman service, while, when their offer was promptly accepted, the
ingenious officers set to work to manufacture bombs.
These missiles, rough and ready in construction, were none the less
formidable, while the moral effect was a great consideration. The
"eggs" consisted of small sacks filled with cordite, both loose and in
cartridges, while by manipulating the fuses of Mills bombs, so that the
period between release and explosion was increased to six seconds, the
improvised missiles were made to detonate just before reaching the
ground after a fall of six hundred feet.
The tempestuous shouts of the Haussas announced the arrival of the
transport column, for food was beginning to run short and the men's
rations would have had to have been reduced had not the expected stores
been speedily forthcoming. There was petrol, too, enough for a series
of flights over a distance of two hundred miles; while to the intense
satisfaction of officers and men big Jock Spofforth rejoined the
regiment, looking none the worse for his encounter with the lioness,
except for the still raw scars on his brawny arms.
"Just in time for a dust-up, I find, old man," was his reply to
Wilmshurst's greeting. "You've been lucky already, I hear? Where's
that MacGregor chap? Is he still with the battalion?"
Briefly Dudley explained what had happened.
"Skunk," muttered Spofforth. "So we've been taking a dirty Hun under
our wing, so to speak. I don't mind admitting now that I didn't think
much of the blighter when he pushed off and promptly fainted."
"But I scooted, too," interrupted Laxdale, "and left you to tackle the
lioness."
"I also plead guilty," added Danvers.
"But with this difference," rejoined Spofforth: "you were unarmed and
he had a rifle. Ah, well; you fellows have stolen a march on me, and
I've a lot of leeway to make up. When do we move against M'ganga?"
"As soon as we are in touch with the Indian crush," replied Danvers.
"It may be tomorrow."
"Hurrah!" exclaimed Spofforth. "Let's hope it will be a decent scrap,
and that von Gobendorff will be present at the meeting."