THE BATTLE IN THE MEADOW.
It was not long after the adventure with the elephant when Trim took
out the pocket spyglass that he had risked his life to save and looked
through it at the top of a distant hill on the northern side of the river.
“Ee took big chances to get that play-thing, lad,” remarked Dobbin,
solemnly.
“Huh!” grunted Trim.
“If ee keep up that kind of fool play,” continued the old sailor, “ye’ll
never live long enough to be hanged.”
Trim grunted again.
“Come, lad,” persisted Dobbin; “do let an ole fellow like me give ee a
bit of advice. It’s all well enough to be brave an’ do ee duty to the law
an’ hunt down criminals, but ee have got yer own life to think of an’ ee
shouldn’t forget that ee have friends and relations, perhaps, who think
well of ee.
“It would be a sore day for ole Dobbin, to mention the poorest of your
friends, if he should have to go back thinkin’ of ee as stamped to death
by an elephant or murdered by these heathen savages.”
“Dobbin,” said Trim, suddenly, putting down the glass; “you’re not the
least of my friends. You are one of the best I ever had, and I have got
relations, too, that I haven’t seen for a long time.
“I’ll give you my word that I will try to be careful in the future for
your sake and for theirs, and I’ll promise, too, that after we get
through with this case I won’t be persuaded to do any more detective work
of any kind until I get back to America.”
“It does me heart good to hear ee say that, lad!” exclaimed Dobbin.
“Just the same,” continued Trim, “I’m glad I went back after this
spyglass.”
“Aye! I suppose ee thinks a good deal of the little thing.”
“It’s almost as useful to me as my revolver. Take it, Dobbin, and bring
it to bear on the top of that rocky hill off to the north.”
Dobbin looked as directed, and after a minute he exclaimed:
“Well, well!”
“What do you see?” asked Trim.
“It’s a white man, lad.”
“That’s right, and he’s looking at us, isn’t he?”
“I think so.”
Dobbin handed the glass back to Trim.
“Now, then,” said Trim, “just think a minute. We are hundreds of miles
from the nearest white settlement. This part of Africa is so little known
that the maps don’t pretend to give the courses of rivers.
“Mighty few explorers have been here, and the long and short of it is
that that white man off on the hill is one of the men we want to meet!”
“Ee think he’s one of those that have joined the Narugas, lad?”
“I haven’t a doubt of it. Let’s see what the blacks have to say.”
Trim questioned his men and learned from them that although the Narugas’
territory had not been reached, nevertheless they were not many miles
from it.
They told him that the place where they expected to make a landing would
be reached by another day’s journey.
Further questions brought out the fact that the second expedition of the
police against Mulvey and the Narugas had landed at that spot.
“That settles it, then,” said Trim. “We won’t land there.
“By this time Miller certainly has reached them unless he has been
prevented from doing so by savage tribes. That isn’t likely, for it looks
as if the Massais, at least, had helped him on.
“Now the white men who came to the drunken camp undoubtedly learned that
a party of white travelers had been there.
“This fellow off on the hilltop may be the same man. If not he’s at least
one of them who is on the lookout and who is therefore aware of our
approach.
“That being the case, the most natural thing in the world for Mulvey and
his men would be to prepare an ambush at the landing or near it where the
second police expedition went ashore.”
Trim believed that he and his party were better armed than the Narugas
would be, and that therefore, if it came to a battle the chances would be
in his favor.
Of course he did not wish to have bloodshed, if it could be avoided. He
was especially anxious that none of his own men should be injured as a
result of the undertaking.
He thought, therefore, that it would be not only better to avoid a battle
at the landing, but that it would be a good plan to go on shore and force
a way through the wilderness in the hope of coming on the Narugas who
might be in waiting at the landing.
“The chances are,” so his thoughts ran, “that Mulvey and his white
companions will be there, and if they prepare an ambush for us it will be
the best chance in the world to bag the whole lot of them by surprising
the ambush.”
Trim determined to make a try for this, and accordingly after the rafts
had drifted down stream until they were out of sight of the hill, where
he had seen the white man watching him, ordered his men to make a landing.
They had to go down stream several miles further before they could find
a place where there seemed to be any possibility of driving the donkeys
through the forest and over the hills.
Even at the place where they finally landed the forest was so dense that
it was impossible to ride the donkeys through it. The little beasts were
therefore loaded with the baggage of the expedition, while the men walked
beside them.
By referring to his map Trim found that it was about here that the Orange
River made an immense curve in shape somewhat like a horseshoe.
Trim’s party had landed at one toe of this horseshoe, so to speak, and
the spot where his men had intended to land was at the other toe.
To reach the other toe by river would mean a journey of many miles,
whereas to go there in a straight line overland would be but a few miles.
These few miles by land, however, lay across steep and thickly-wooded
mountains. It would doubtless take longer to go by land than it would by
water.
This fact did not disappoint Trim at all. On the other hand it seemed to
him to be very much in his favor, for he was anxious to give the white
criminals who were the leaders of the Narugas time to go down to the
other landing and prepare their ambush, if that should be their plan.
On the theory that they would do this Trim reasoned that they would wait
there for the party on the rafts to appear.
If the rafts did not appear they would simply keep on waiting and so give
Trim time to cross the mountains and fall upon them from the rear.
He was thinking over this plan while the party was preparing to start
into the forest, and just before the start was made he cut the cords that
bound the rafts to the bank and with one of the long poles pushed them
both out into the current.
“I suppose that’s all right, lad,” Dobbin remarked, “but seems to me it’s
possible we may want to use those rafts again.”
“It is possible,” returned Trim.
“You see,” continued Dobbin, “we may find we cannot force a way over
these mountains.”
“Well, if we can’t,” said Trim, “we can make new rafts.
“Meantime, if those two float down the river, as I hope they will, they
may help us.”
Dobbin was unable to see how this was possible, and Trim was too busy
just then to explain.
The worst of their journey overland was at the very beginning, for
the undergrowth in the forest was so dense that in many places it was
necessary to stop and cut a path with hatchets.
This made progress extremely slow, and when it came nightfall they were
not more than half way up the mountain slope.
Fortunately for Trim his men were a contented lot. They admired his
courage and determination, and were perfectly willing to do anything that
he wished.
It often happens to travelers in Central Africa that their natives desert
them. If this had happened to Trim he would have been indeed in a bad
way, but his employees were faithful.
Early the next morning Trim climbed a tall tree and made an examination
of the surrounding country.
His experience in the wild districts of America proved of use to him now,
for his trained eyes discovered signs of a pass between the mountains
that was certain to be easier than the course they were taking over them.
Accordingly he led the party through the forest along the side of the
mountain until they came to a gully that seemed to extend far inland.
It was the bed of what had once been a stream. A little brook was even
now trickling through it to the river, but for the most part the gully
was dry.
The sure-footed donkeys had no difficulty whatever in climbing along this
natural path, and the result was that for several miles the party made
comparatively rapid progress.
As they went further up the gully became smaller, and at last they had to
force their way again through a section of forest.
The undergrowth here was not as thick as it was at the river bank, and it
was not long before they crossed the highest point of the ledge and began
to descend.
Shortly after that they came as Trim had hoped they would to another
stream.
This time the bed of the stream was not dry but it nevertheless allowed
of a much easier passage down the mountain than could have been found by
going directly through the forest.
They followed along this stream sometimes upon its banks, sometimes
wading in it, until they came to the top of a waterfall.
There Trim called to the party to halt until he should be able to find a
way down the ledge.
There was a descent of about fifty feet and the spray that came up from
below hung like a cloud over the edge of the precipice.
Glad of a chance to rest, the men threw themselves upon the ground while
Trim wandered along the edge of the cliff.
He had no sooner got beyond the cloud of spray than he stopped abruptly
and took out his spyglass. The spray rising from the waterfall had
concealed the country lying around completely.
From where he now stood he could see the Orange River less than a mile
away. It took little reflection to show him that the river at this point
reached the other toe of the horseshoe to which he was going.
He could see that from the base of the cliff the mountain sloped gently
to the river bank, and he could also see a spot where undoubtedly the
former police expedition had landed.
It was a meadow on which not a single tree grew. This meadow was not
broad but it extended inland for something like half a mile.
What aroused Trim’s interest most, however, was not the meadow which
afforded such a convenient place for landing but two specks floating down
the river.
A glance through his glass showed him that they were the rafts upon which
he and his party had been sailing.
“Now,” he thought, “if that doesn’t bring the enemy from under cover I
shan’t know where to find them.”
He turned his glass to the edges of the meadow, moving it slowly so as to
inspect its entire length from the river bank to where it ended in the
forest again.
He had not long to look before he saw something that satisfied him
greatly. Several men were coming out from the edge of the forest and
crossing the meadow toward the river.
Trim could see that their attention had been taken by the empty rafts.
There was no doubt that they had been in hiding at the meadow’s edge
waiting for the white travelers to land from their rafts at that
convenient point.
Seeing the rafts floating down empty they had come from under their
cover as Trim had hoped that they would, and were approaching the river
doubtless wondering what had become of the travelers.
“Perhaps they’ll think that we were slaughtered by that drunken tribe,”
thought Trim, but he immediately reflected that this could not be, for by
this time the Narugas and their white leaders could have been informed as
to the escape of the travelers at that point.
“Anyhow,” thought Trim, as he looked at the men through his glass, “there
are three whites in that gang down there which proves that I was not
much mistaken in my theory as to what they would do.
“There aren’t more than a dozen blacks with them. It’s too good a chance
to lose. I must get our net out and make an effort to snare that entire
party.”
Trim hurried along the edge of the cliff until he found a place where the
donkeys could descend. Then he went back to the edge of the falls and
told his men what he had seen and what he wished to do.
They were perfectly willing and ready to make the attempt with him.
Working as rapidly as possible they got the donkeys and all the baggage
of the expedition down to the bottom of the cliff, where they found it
necessary to proceed along its base toward the waterfall because the
ground was too steep and the forest too thick to proceed further just
there.
Trim had seen that from the bottom of the falls the ground sloped gently.
“We don’t want the donkeys with us,” he said to the men, “and we might as
well leave them here.”
There was a great hollow in the cliff back of the falls.
This is often the case in waterfalls, and Trim was not surprised to find
that he could make his way in there without difficulty.
It took some coaxing to get the donkeys to go in, for they were
apparently frightened at the roar of the falling water. Once inside,
however, they were quiet enough and Trim left them tied to the rough
edges of rocks so that they might not slip away and fall into the stream.
It was really a good hiding place, for back of the donkeys and the
baggage which was also taken in there was a mountain ledge.
In front was the sheet of falling water, and the only way in was at the
sides by a passage that only one or two men could enter at a time, and
which could not be seen from outside without hunting for it.
It did not take long to get the donkeys and the baggage in place. Then
Trim and his men went out into the open air again and started down toward
the meadow.
They went cautiously, for there was no telling but that the white men and
their black companions might be hid somewhere in their course.
Trim and his party arrived at the edge of the meadow without meeting
anybody.
Pausing there and looking toward the river they saw that the party whom
Trim had seen from the top of the cliff were on the bank of the river.
They had managed somehow to catch one of the rafts and had dragged it to
the shore.
“No doubt they’re wondering,” said Trim to Dobbin, “what has become of
the men who were traveling on it.
“Now, men, we must keep in the edge of the woods and get down as close to
the river as we can before they realize what we are up to. Then we’ll see
if we can stampede them.
“If we succeed, as we probably shall, drive off the blacks and capture
the white men.”
Trim’s men understood so well what his object was that they did not need
more definite instructions. They were all excited and anxious for success.
They kept just far enough from the edge of the forest to be concealed by
the trees and yet not so far that they could not look out upon the meadow
and see what the enemy were doing.
Trim grew more and more hopeful as they advanced, but he had not yet come
to the point that he wanted to reach before making his attack when he
saw that the enemy were turning about and starting up the meadow on the
opposite side.
The boy was badly disappointed.
“They’re half facing us now,” he thought, “and so we can’t catch them so
much by surprise. Maybe, too, they are already suspicious of what has
happened, though I don’t much think they’re as shrewd as all that.
“At all events, it is no use of our trying to keep concealed any longer,
for with every step they take they get further away from us.”
“Now, men,” he said aloud; “we must make a charge. Remember, I want you
to scatter the blacks, but not slaughter them.
“Don’t shoot to kill unless I say the word!”
There was just an instant’s pause for every man to get ready for the
charge, then Trim gave the command in ringing tones and the entire party
pushed from under cover of the forest and made for the blacks and their
white leaders.
There was no question about the surprise with which the attack was
received. The entire body of the enemy stood still.
“Surrender!” shouted Trim at the top of his voice, while he aimed his
revolver at one of the whites.
The blacks in the enemy’s party immediately took to their heels and made
for the other side of the meadow.
At the same instant one of the white men in Trim’s party lost his head
through the excitement of the affair and fired at the retreating blacks.
He stood almost beside Trim at the moment and the smoke from his rifle
shut out the view for the fraction of a second.
That brief time completely changed the whole affair. It might have gone
just as Trim had planned it, although it is possible, too, that the three
whites might have made a stubborn fight. However, what happened was this:
Trim called to his man angrily not to fire until he was ordered to do
so, and jumped aside in order to get out of the smoke where he could see
clearly.
He jumped just in time to escape a bullet that was sent by one of the
white enemies for that spot.
The bullet missed Trim and struck the faithful Dobbin in the shoulder.
“Ah, lad, I’m hit!” cried Dobbin, as he stumbled and fell to the ground.
Trim’s heart sank like lead. It seemed to him at that instant as if the
capture of all the criminals in the world was not worth the life of his
faithful old friend.
He turned from the enemy and bent hastily over Dobbin.
“It’s not a fatal wound, old fellow!” he cried. “Keep your courage up! I
shall take care of you whatever happens.”
“Don’t mind me, lad, fight it out!” groaned Dobbin.
“Fire, men!” cried Trim, now thoroughly aroused to make a fight in behalf
of his wounded companion.
The men needed no second bidding, but before they had fired a shot the
three whites had turned about and ran for the cover of the forest.
Trim’s men shot wildly. None of the whites were hit, and the little
battle ended therefore with a complete upsetting of Trim’s plans and with
the only damage inflicted upon his side.
“It’s another case of retreat,” he said to himself. “If I don’t get
Dobbin out of this the poor old fellow will be done for.
“We’ve got to get under cover ourselves and get out of this.”
He called one of the whites to him and between them they got Dobbin under
the shelter of one of the trees. The old sailor groaned with pain, and
Trim saw that his wound needed a good deal of attention.
“If it wasn’t for this,” he said, “I’d make a break for those fellows on
the other side of the meadow and we’d settle this thing here and now. But
I’ve got to take care of Dobbin first.
“We must go back to the hiding-place under the falls; then we’ll see what
the rest of us can do.”