A FORCED LANDING
'For goodness' sake keep them quiet!' gasped Trentham, clambering up
among the boulders to the top of the slope. The native prisoners,
hysterical in their joy, were laughing and shouting and smacking their
thighs.
'Say, Lafoa,' said Hoole, 'tell that chief of yours to stop the
hullabaloo. Black fella no talkee this time.'
Flanso gathered his men together, and reduced the hubbub somewhat.
Meanwhile Trentham had gained the top.
'We must get out of reach at once,' he said. 'The searchlight's no good
to them now, nor the machine-gun; but if these fellows make such a row
the Germans will track us.'
'We make for the village?' asked Hoole.
'Not directly; the Germans are sure to put men on the paths. But I
fancy they won't risk a regular pursuit in the dark, and if we get away
from the coast and avoid the direct route to the village, we shall at
any rate not run into them. How 's Meek?'
'Just alive, sir, that's all I can say,' replied Grinson. 'What they
've been doing to him----'
'Can he walk?' Trentham interrupted.
'Says he ain't got no feeling in his legs. But what's the odds? I 'll
heave him across my back. Lucky you 're lean, Ephraim, me lad!'
'Come, let's start at once. Where's Lafoa?'
He explained his plan to the interpreter, who imparted it to the young
chief, and the whole party moved off silently into the forest, Grinson
mounting Meek pickaback.
Trentham's inferences as to the actions of the enemy were better
justified than he knew. All the Germans with the exception of Hahn had
been thrown into a state of utter consternation by the discovery that
Meek was not the only white man in their neighbourhood. Hahn, professing
himself to be as much surprised as the rest, had discreetly held his
tongue. Consequently the commander, ignorant of the number of the
rescuers, had contented himself with posting parties of the crew on the
paths which the fugitives must cross to regain their village, postponing
organised pursuit until the morning.
It was slow going in the darkness. Several of the natives who had been
longest enslaved were weak from overwork, ill-treatment, and
confinement. The stronger among them, eager to press on, were
restrained by fear of the dark and the necessity of helping the weaker.
Hoole noticed that Trentham was limping.
'Hurt your leg?' he asked.
'Got a bullet, I think, but it's nothing.'
'Shucks! Let me have a look at it right now. You might bleed to
death.'
He knelt down and groped for the wound.
'The bullet has ploughed up a bit of your calf,' he said in a minute or
two. 'Lucky it's no worse. Wait half a second while I tie it up; then
I guess you can go on till we strike some water.'
They went on, struggling over rough country amid thick bush and trees.
Even the natives were at a loss in the darkness. They could not choose a
definite direction, and it seemed obvious to the white men that some of
them would soon collapse. Grinson was panting under his load, light
though it was, but steadfastly refused to allow the others to take turns
with him. At length, coming to a patch of open ground, Trentham called
a halt.
'We ought to be pretty safe now,' he said, 'and had better camp here
till the morning. With daylight some of the natives will be able to take
their bearings.'
They lay down on the rough grass, already wet with dew.
'How d' you feel, Ephraim?' asked Grinson, bending over the seaman.
'I felt worse when I had typhoid,' said Meek faintly. 'What a lot of
trouble I do give you, Mr. Grinson--a lot of trouble. And I ain't said
a word of thanks to the gentlemen.'
'Don't bother about that,' said Trentham. 'Get to sleep if you can.'
'Ay, go to sleep at once, Ephraim; d' ye hear, me lad?' said Grinson.
'I 'll try, Mr. Grinson, and if so be I dream horrors----'
'Dream! What's dreams? Why, many's the times I 've been drownded in my
sleep. Dreams make me laugh. (I 'll get him off, sir,' he whispered to
Trentham. 'A yarn of mine has done it afore now!) I remember once I
dreamed as how I 'd got into a Salvation meeting; they was singing a
hymn, but the man as played the trumpet--why, somehow the trumpet turned
into a beer bottle, and I found I was playing the trumpet myself. They
all come up and thanked me afterwards for my beautiful music, and then
all of a sudden I was left alone, and couldn't find my hat. While I was
hunting for it, that there trumpet fellow rushed in and pushed a
rolled-up parcel into my hand. "Very good hat!" says he, and when I
opened it, bless you, 'twas nothing but a tea-cosy.... He 's off now,
sir. What have those devils been doing to my Ephraim?'
'We 'll hear all about it to-morrow. You had better sleep yourself,
Grinson. Tell yourself a yarn.'
'No, sir; that's not my way. I counts over the number of sweethearts I
've had, and by the time I 've got to the third or fourth I 'm dead off;
they was so dull.'
It was a comfortless night on the open ground, with neither fires nor
wraps to defend them against the chill air. Either Hoole or Trentham
was always on guard, together with relays of the natives. By the
exertion of his authority Flanso kept his men fairly quiet; but the
white men were on thorns lest even the subdued murmurs of voices should
reach the ears of possible scouts.
At dawn the party was marshalled. It had been arranged that the weaker
men among the natives should make for the village by a round-about
route, in charge of Grinson and Meek, and led by Lafoa. Trentham and
Hoole intended to wait a while with Flanso and the rest, and then to
scout more directly eastward in order to keep watch on the Germans.
They were just about to start when the natives pricked up their ears,
and Flanso managed to make the white men understand that they were
alarmed by a noise in the air. A few seconds later Hoole declared that
he heard the seaplane's engines. Trentham signed to the natives to take
cover in the surrounding bush, and with Hoole posted himself at the edge
of the forest, where he might hope to escape observation. Presently the
seaplane soared over the clearing, a few hundred feet above the ground,
and after circling once or twice made off south-eastwards in the
direction of the village.
'They won't see our men in the forest,' remarked Trentham, 'but we had
better start. If they drop a bomb on the village, there 'll be a
frightful panic.'
They hurried among the trees to re-form their party, but found that the
natives, scared by the noise of this aerial monster, had disappeared.
Only one man remained, Flanso himself, armed with a spear taken from one
of those who had accompanied the white men from the village. Under his
guidance they set off rapidly.
It was perhaps a quarter of an hour later that Hoole caught sight of a
native among the trees on his left hand, and thinking it was one of the
missing men, shouted to him. The man at once dashed away, uttering a
shrill cry.
'Kafulu!' cried Flanso excitedly, and was on the point of springing
after the traitor when a shot rang out, and a number of Germans came
into view almost directly in front of them. The three men instantly
darted away to the right, pursued by more shots, and ran until they were
out of breath.
'We 've outrun them,' said Trentham; 'must have gone twice as fast as
they, burdened with their rifles. I must rest a bit; my leg is rather
groggy.'
There was no sound of pursuit. Presently they moved on again, but had
not gone far before they once more heard the hum of the seaplane,
apparently approaching from the south. Screened by the trees, they did
not check their march until Hoole suddenly exclaimed:
'Say, Trentham, that machine 's sure in difficulties.'
'Is it? How do you know?'
'Listen!' returned Hoole with a smile.
The humming was intermittent, spasmodic, and presently ceased
altogether.
'They 're coming down,' said Hoole, 'and not far away. Let 's have a
look at it.'
'Better push on,' said Trentham.
'But it 'll do us good if the machine crashes. I 'd be glad to know
it's out of action. Come on!'
They turned in the direction in which the sound was last heard. Through
the close-growing trees it was impossible to see far, and Trentham
privately thought the search a waste of time; but after only a few
minutes' walk they came to the edge of an open space sloping down to a
stream some twenty feet wide.
'It will be hereabout,' said Hoole, detaining the others at the top of
the slope. 'But I guess this trickle isn't wide enough to float it. Let
us separate, and scout along the line of bushes here, up and down
stream.'
In a few minutes Flanso, who had gone northward, returned to the others,
and told them by signs that he had discovered the machine. Creeping
back with him, they came to a bend in the stream, and there discovered
the seaplane, resting partly on two small trees, partly on a bed of
rushes, and awkwardly tilted. The two airmen had left their seats, and
were talking together on the bank, apparently consulting a compass.
Every now and again they glanced apprehensively into the bush on both
sides. Then they returned to the seaplane, walked round it, put their
shoulders against the fuselage, and tried to lift it. One of them took
out his revolver, and was on the point of firing it into the air, when
his companion hastily interposed. The two men had a brief altercation.
Finally the one who had been about to fire appeared to yield to the
other's warning, and they both sat down on the shelving bank, discussing
the position over again.
Sheltered by the dense vegetation above the watercourse, Trentham and
his companions had watched their movements with interest. The tenor of
their discussion was easily divined. The seaplane could not be salved
without help, but they hesitated to leave it, fearful of its being
discovered by the natives, with whom, as they now knew, were white men.
If they parted company, which was to return to the cove? The one left
would be less able to defend himself and the machine. A revolver shot
might have brought assistance from the Germans; on the other hand, it
might attract a horde of cannibals. What were they to do?
As they sat on the bank, they were sideways to the three men watching
them only a few feet above.
'Let's rush them!' whispered Hoole suddenly.
He seized Flanso's spear, pushed his revolver into Trentham's hand, and
before the latter could utter a word, either in assent or in
remonstrance, the American was half-way down the slope. Trentham had no
choice but to back him up, and he dashed after his friend with scarcely
a moment's delay.
The Germans heard the sound of Hoole's movements through the bush,
turned their heads and sprang up. One of them raised his revolver to
fire, but Hoole, now only three or four yards away, launched his spear.
His sudden action flurried the German's aim, his shot flew wide, and the
next moment he fell back, cursing, and tearing the spear from his
shoulder. His companion, seeing Trentham rushing at him with levelled
revolver, hesitated a moment, and caught sight of Flanso swooping down
immediately behind the Englishman.
[Illustration: ONE OF THE GERMANS RAISED HIS REVOLVER, BUT BEFORE HE
COULD FIRE, HOOLE LAUNCHED THE SPEAR AT HIM.]
'Hands up!' cried Trentham, taking advantage of the man's momentary
hesitation.
Up went his hands.
'Guess we 'll borrow your revolvers, gentlemen,' said Hoole, picking up
the weapon dropped by the wounded man. Trentham took the other man's
from his belt. 'Keep your eye on them, Trentham,' Hoole went on, 'while
I kind of size up this machine of theirs.'
Trentham and Flanso stood guard over the Germans while the unwounded man
bathed his comrade's arm and bound up his wound. Meanwhile Hoole
examined the seaplane in a manner that took Trentham by surprise. There
was a sureness, a purposefulness about him; he seemed to know exactly
what he was looking for. Indeed, he pulled the engine about, as
Trentham afterwards told him, as if he were its maker. A very few
minutes' inspection sufficed to make him wise, as he put it.
'Not much wrong,' he said, coming over to Trentham and smiling. 'I
guess I can put it right. But we 'll want help to get it on to the
stream--yonder there, where it widens. Shall we start for home?'
'And these gentlemen will come as our prisoners?'
'Sure. We haven't any coal for them to dig, but they can start on
yams.'
'Ve are officers; it is not correct for officers to vork,' said one of
the Germans.
'Say, is that so? You 're a lazy lot? Well now! And yet you 'll make
a chief dig coal for you--a chief who 's as big a man here as your
Kaiser in Berlin. Well, you surprise me! Come along, Trentham. Let's
hurry.'
'How far are we from the coast?' asked Trentham of the Germans as they
started.
'Eight or nine mile,' was the surly response.
'Bully!' exclaimed Hoole. 'With luck we 'll have time to salve the
machine before it's found. Step along, Flanso!'
'Ze niggers vere ve go--are zey cannibals?' asked one of the Germans
anxiously.
'Yes,' replied Trentham. 'They nearly ate us. They mistook us for
Germans.'
The prisoners asked no more questions.
Soon after leaving the seaplane, Hoole pointed out why it had come down
in this part of the forest. The stream widened into a small lake, on
which, when their engine failed, the Germans had tried to alight.
Unable to reach it, they had been forced to come down on the bank of the
stream.
Flanso scouted ahead, every now and then stopping to listen for signs of
the Germans. Once, when they were rounding a spur where the vegetation
was thin, Trentham clapped his hand over the mouth of one of the Germans
just as he was about to shout.
'We 'll have to gag this fellow, Hoole,' he said.
'Sure. Another rag from my coat. And look you here, you officers, if
you make a sound, barring a natural grunt, we 'll leave you to our
friend Flanso. See?'
'The native yonder,' explained Trentham. 'You had him on your ledge, you
know.'
The threat was enough. For the rest of the march the Germans were
docility itself.