Tom's first business was to examine his spoils of war. Besides a
considerable quantity of maize and other foods intended for the askaris,
there was a case containing coffee, condensed milk, tinned fruits,
biscuits, and a few bottles of wine--articles which were very welcome
additions to his private larder. Still more welcome were the boxes of
ammunition. One small case held a couple of dozen metal objects whose
use he did not know; but unscrewing the top of one of them he saw what
he took to be combustible material of some kind, and confirmed his guess
with a lighted match. These flares, he thought, might prove very useful
in case of a night attack.
A commander's chief preoccupation, perhaps, is to divine the intentions
of the enemy. What would the column from Bismarckburg do? Its officers
had no doubt learnt within an hour or two what had happened to the
eastern column, and it seemed probable that the disaster would have
deranged their plans. In the course of the afternoon Tom received a
message from the scout who had been stationed on the hill overlooking
the enemy's halting place. The man reported that a number of the
askaris had climbed the hill on different sides, and he had withdrawn to
the next post northward. Tom guessed that the German commander had
suspected the presence on the hill of scouts who had given him away, and
had wisely determined to get rid of them. The post having been thus
abandoned, the enemy's movements could not be known at the nullah until
they had come within sight from the next post. That, however, was more
than twenty miles away, and Tom expected to receive warning of their
approach in ample time to prepare for them. He conjectured that they
would make no move until they had replaced the supplies of which they
had been deprived.
He was not one to sit with folded hands, idly waiting. Next day, taking
advantage of his largely increased stock of ammunition, he spent a good
many hours in giving his men rifle practice. Owing to the nature of the
position, firing, when the attack came, was likely to be at point blank
range, so that it was unnecessary to instruct the mass of the natives in
the mysteries of adjusting sights. But in view of the possibility of
having to fall back up the nullah, he gave special instruction in long
range firing to a score of the men who had had former experience with
firearms.
More than once he had wished for the companionship of a man of his own
race. Mirambo was a devoted lieutenant, but consultation with him could
only be carried on through Mwesa, and his range of ideas was as limited
as the boy's command of English. Tom felt the lack of an equal, a man
of like upbringing and education, with whom he might have had those long
and intimate talks in which mind reacts on mind with mutual helpfulness.
More than ever he wished it now. An advancing enemy should be harassed;
but Tom dared not leave the nullah himself, and neither Mirambo nor any
other native had the cool judgment and the self-control necessary in the
commander of even a disciplined force, much more in one who had only
half-trained negroes under his leadership. Pitted against well-drilled
askaris under capable German officers, the Wahehe would be hopelessly
overmatched; they would almost certainly be outflanked and cut off, and
Tom could not afford to lose men. Under a white man the risks would not
have been so great. But it is idle to long for the impossible, and Tom
realised that the only safe course was to keep the men with him. He
gave orders to his scouts to fall back upon the nullah when the enemy
advanced, but slowly, and noting their progress from point to point.
It was on the third day after the little action at the bridge that his
furthermost scout reported the enemy were on the move. They had marched
two miles along the track from the spot on which they had encamped
beside the Neu Langenburg road. There was a great host of askaris, a
great host of porters, and several white men. Some of the porters were
dragging a long green bottle on wheels.
A long green bottle on wheels!
Tom felt a sinking at heart. What could this be but a field gun? The
hosts of askaris did not dismay him: their numbers were, no doubt,
exaggerated by the natives as usual; but he recognized that his
barricade of trees would be a poor defence against shell-fire. There
was little time to improvise adequate protection; but he set almost the
whole of his men to work at once in digging a deep trench a few yards
behind the barricade.
At intervals during the rest of the day came further reports of the
enemy's progress. Their advance was slow; it was clear that they could
not reach the nullah before nightfall, and after their long march they
would not make an immediate attack. Leaving a strong guard at the
barricade, Tom went to his hut to fortify himself with sleep for what
the next day might bring forth. But he found it impossible to rest.
Now that the critical moment was approaching, his mind went over and
over the situation. Had he left undone anything that might have been
done? What would be the effect of shell-fire on his men--aye, and on
himself? What were the enemy's plans? Would they, after battering down
his outer defences, make a fierce charge into the nullah, relying on the
defenders' demoralisation by the bombardment? Thinking over these and
other questions, he felt that he had done all he could: the rest was on
the knees of the gods.
Very early next morning he made a round of inspection, then issued
through Mwesa his final orders. At the first sign of hostile action the
men were to take up their allotted positions. He warned them that they
must expect something worse than rifle bullets; but none were to leave
the trenches without permission.
To give notice of the enemy's approach, he had posted scouts on the top
of the sides of the nullah. But the first intimation came not from
them, but from the enemy himself. About midday there was a dull boom in
the south. A few seconds afterwards a shell burst with a shattering
explosion on the hill face. A cry of astonishment and fear broke from
some of the Wahehe; but Tom, in the centre of the trench with Mwesa at
his side, calmed them by asking whether they supposed the shells would
destroy the sides of the nullah. The response was an outburst of
mocking laughter. It was a big noise, said the men; but the result had
been only the fall of broken branches and fragments of rock. All was
well.
The bombardment was continued and maintained steadily throughout the
day. Some shells fell harmlessly on the steep sides of the nullah,
others in the stream or among the bushes some distance up, others on the
clearing outside. One struck the barricade, scattering boughs and twigs
and making a gap; but none entered the trenches, and no man was hit. By
the end of the day the natives had become indifferent to the
bombardment, laughing and joking as they watched the smoke and the
splinters which did them no harm. With sunset the shelling ceased, and
movement in the lower part of the nullah became once more possible. So
far, none of the enemy had been seen, and Tom wondered how the gunners
had been able to range with even approximate accuracy on their unseen
target. He never knew that Major von Rudenheim had not considered the
bearing of a flag of truce inconsistent with the taking of careful
measurements, by means of which he had fixed on several spots in the
forest whence the nullah might be shelled at known ranges.
It seemed to Tom hardly likely that the enemy would attempt a night
attack before they had ascertained how much damage their gun had done.
Nevertheless, he kept a large number of men under arms all night,
relieving them every four hours. Two of the askaris were selected to
light the captured flares and throw them over the barricade if the enemy
made a move. In the middle of the night Tom snatched a few hours'
sleep, leaving Mirambo in command; and when, shortly before dawn, on
returning to his post, he learnt that no sounds had been heard from
beyond the clearing, he felt sure that not even a reconnaissance had
been attempted, or it would have been detected by the negroes' sharp
ears.
It was a misty, drizzly morning, and the trees at the edge of the forest
two hundred yards south of the nullah loomed through the murk only as a
blurred mass. Tom gave orders to his scouts, before they climbed to
their watch-posts above, to be specially vigilant. About seven o'clock
a shell burst just behind the trench, and three of his men were slightly
injured by splinters. The fact that the shell exploded before the boom
of the gun was heard, showed that the gunners had drawn nearer during
the night. This was the opening of a bombardment that continued for
about three hours. Again little damage was done, most of the shells
falling many yards behind the barricade.
Suddenly the firing ceased. The scouts, sharp-eyed though they were,
had reported no movement among the trees, when there came the shrill
blast of a whistle. Tom had posted himself with his men at the
barricade, and he was just able to see, through the mist, a compact line
of askaris break from cover. There was no attempt at skirmishing; the
enemy rushed straight across the clearing towards the mouth of the
nullah. Twenty yards behind them came a second line, and with these Tom
saw the white helmet of a German officer.
He had given orders that no man was to fire until he sounded his
whistle; but it was too much to expect that all his negroes, in the
excitement of what was to many of them their first action, would
exercise the self-control of disciplined troops. Only one of them,
however, let off his rifle, and the single shot, fired at random, was
hailed with a derisive yell by the askaris. Tom waited until they were
half-way across the clearing; then he blew his whistle. Along the whole
length of the barricade burst a shattering volley, not perfectly in
time, but aimed low, as Tom had instructed. At so short a range the
effect was inevitable. The first line of the assailants was broken;
groans mingled with the shouts; the survivors wavered. The German
non-commissioned officer from behind ran among them, threatening them
with his revolver, and under this stimulus they charged forward, with
the second line at their heels.
Now Tom gave the signal for a second volley. The enemy were barely fifty
yards away. Many of them dropped; some flung themselves on the ground.
The few who struggled on found themselves baulked by the unsuspected
moat; and the German having fallen, and no supports being at hand, they
turned and fled. Before they reached the cover of the trees another
storm of bullets swept upon them.
The Wahehe gave rein to their jubilation. They shouted, pranced, slapped
their thighs. Some wished to dash out from the barricade in pursuit of
the enemy; but Tom sternly ordered them to stand to attention. He was
as much pleased as they were that the first assault had failed; unlike
them, he knew that this was only the beginning of things. But it was of
good omen for the future. Brief though the engagement had been, it had
weakened the enemy in numbers, whether seriously Tom, ignorant of their
reserves, could not tell. It had encouraged his own men; best of all,
it had proved their steadiness. The three shots they had fired were all
that their magazines contained; now that he could trust them not to
waste ammunition, he could allow them to keep their magazines full.
For more than an hour there was no sign of a renewal of the attack.
Then, however, the bombardment was resumed. It would appear that while
the defenders' attention was wholly taken tip with repelling their
assailants, some of the enemy, unseen in the rear, must have "spotted"
for the gun, for the shells now began regularly to pierce the barricade,
exploding on impact, and tearing away masses of the leafy boughs.
Crouching at the bottom of the muddy trench, the Wahehe suffered no hurt
except bruises and abrasions from splinters of wood and metal; and Tom
resolved to have the breaches in the barricade repaired during the
night.
But nightfall did not bring a cessation of the bombardment. Every few
minutes throughout the night the shells cut new gaps. Work was
impossible. Tom guessed that the enemy's object was not merely to
prevent repairs, but to wear the defenders out by breaking their rest
and keeping them constantly on the watch. In one way, however, the
persistent bombardment was a source of satisfaction to him. While the
shells continued to fall, there was no likelihood that the enemy would
again assault. The prospect of a night attack had caused him much
anxiety, for the negro's morale is never at its best in the dark;
further, in darkness and confusion the weight of numbers would tell
heavily against him.
Tom knew nothing about artillery, and began to feel a certain contempt
for the gun, so slight was the material damage done by its shells. It
was not, however, a field gun, but a small mountain gun, more easily
transportable than a larger weapon. After the bombardment had continued
for some hours neither he nor the men were much disturbed by the shell
bursts, and he felt more and more confident of his ability to hold his
own.
But when daylight came again he discovered that the enemy had had
another purpose in their shelling. The bombardment continued. The
scouts from their high posts above reported that they saw men's heads in
the ground on the further side of the clearing. Unable to make out what
they meant, Tom climbed the side of the nullah under cover of the bushes
until he reached the trench, and cautiously looked out across the open
space beyond the barricade. Some thirty yards in advance of the edge of
the forest, on the level of the ground, he saw the heads of several
askaris moving up and down. At one moment a dozen heads were in sight,
the next some of them disappeared, only to bob up again a few seconds
later.
"By George, they're digging," he said to himself.
Quite ignorant of all military operations except those simple manoeuvres
learnt in the course of field days with his school cadet corps, he was
at first at a loss to understand why the enemy were digging a trench
which was apparently to extend from the forest to the nullah. He had
perhaps heard the word sap, but it conveyed nothing to his mind. It was
not long, however, before he guessed the meaning of this unlooked-for
movement. The enemy were digging a means of approach by which they
would avoid the inevitable losses of a rush across the open, and the
bombardment during the night had been designed partly to cover the
sounds of their tools.
Watching intently, he noticed that the direction of the enemy's trench
was not a straight line towards the barricade, but a series of short
zigzags, obviously to minimise the risk of interference by enfilading
fire.
"I ought to try to stop that little game," he thought.
He lifted his rifle, and took a shot at one of the moving heads.
Instantly they all sank down; whether he had hit he could not tell; and
a fusillade burst from the trees on the other side of the clearing. For
some minutes he saw no more of the diggers; then a head and shoulders
showed for a moment, a little nearer than the nearest head had been
before.
"I can't stop them, apparently," he thought, "but I can delay them."
Hurrying down to the trench behind the barricade, he sent a dozen of his
best marksmen, including a couple of the askaris, to the position he had
left, with orders to fire at the diggers whenever they appeared. At
their first shots there was another fusillade from the forest; then an
interval of about a quarter of an hour during which the enemy was
silent, though Tom's men continued to snipe. After that the enemy,
having located the position of the trench, began sniping in turn; but
the men were so well hidden that they suffered no loss. Presently,
however, a shell burst a few yards above the trench, scattering
splinters upon its occupants; and a few minutes later another shell fell
plump on the parapet at the northern end, killing two men and wounding
several. Tom at once withdrew the snipers from their position, and sent
them into the similar trench on the other side of the nullah. From this
they sniped for a considerable time before they were again detected, and
when shells began to fall there also, Tom removed the men to comparative
safety in the bed of the nullah. The wounds inflicted by the shells
were so severe that he did not feel justified in exposing his willing
soldiers to injuries which he was unable to deal with satisfactorily.
The sniping being thus put an end to, and a sortie being out of the
question, Tom had to reconcile himself to the inevitable. The
bombardment slowed down, either because the enemy were satisfied that it
had crushed opposition, or maybe to save ammunition. Several times
during the day Tom went up to his observation post, and noted the
progress of the zigzags. The sap was so narrow that the enemy would
have to advance in single file, and he thought his men behind the
barricade would have an easy task in shooting them down when the attack
came.
Next morning, however, he saw with something like dismay that the enemy
had dug a trench across the clearing, parallel with the barricade, and
about eighty yards from it. The full meaning of their work was now
clear to him. They would reach the trench by means of their zigzag path.
When the word was given, they would swarm out, and though their first
wave must suffer from the defenders' fire, the distance they had to
cover was so short, and they could be so safely reinforced, that they
might overwhelm the defence by sheer weight of numbers. Some of the
survivors of the first attack had come near enough to the barricade to
see the moat, and no doubt, when the enemy attacked a second time, they
would be prepared to meet that not very formidable obstacle.
All that day Tom anxiously awaited the assault. After a quiet morning,
the gun opened fire, and for two hours pounded the barricade, until it
was breached in many spots. When the shelling ceased Tom expected the
attack to follow immediately; but minute after minute passed, and his
scouts gave no sign of any movement among the enemy. Taking advantage
of this inaction, Tom set some of the men to fill up the gaps in the
barricade, but they had no sooner started work than the enemy's snipers,
unseen among the trees, began to pick them off. It was clear that the
issue of the struggle would depend on the fighting capacity of the men,
and not on the strength of the defences.
For the past two days the weather had been dull but dry, and Tom found
himself longing for a downpour of rain, which would flood the enemy's
approaches. His anxieties were the greater through his ignorance of
their numbers. Since the first attack he had seen none of them except
the sappers; whether the men biding their time in the forest were
scores, hundreds, or even thousands he was utterly unable to guess. If
he had known the German's contempt for "cannon-fodder" he might have
suspected that their numbers were not very great, for a German officer
with large resources would hardly have drawn off at the first check.
Darkness closed down upon the nullah. Tom dared not leave his post,
weary though he was. Lying on a heap of twigs he waited, wondering what
the night would bring forth.