Tom Burnaby: A Story of Uganda and the Great Congo Forest

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XIII

  Blood-Brotherhood

  Fortifying the Village--The Enemy at the Gate--An Attack atDawn--Bridging the Trench--Fireballs--Invested

  Tom's decisive victory over the medicine-man not only restored him tohis former place in the estimation of the people, but raised him to apitch of renown which he found somewhat embarrassing. Presents of allkinds were thrust upon him by the admiring villagers, and even thechief, who, though always affable, had nevertheless stood a little uponhis dignity, now opened his heart to him without reserve. He showed himone day, hidden carefully under the floor of his hut, a magnificentcollection of elephants' tusks, some being family heirlooms handed downfrom generation to generation, others the spoils of his own chase. Andthen he ventured to make a proposal which he said would once for all fixthe confidence of his people in the white man. Would Tom become hisblood-brother?

  "Most happy, I'm sure," said Tom, who, however, looked a little bluewhen the details of the ceremony were told him by Mbutu. "I don't mindhaving my arm lanced, but I'm hanged if I'll lick his blood; no, I drawthe line at that."

  Barega assured him that a trifle like that need not stand in the way,and the ceremony was forthwith arranged. The people were again calledtogether by tuck of drum. In the centre of the circle two mats ofwild-cat skin were placed opposite to each other, and on these Tom andthe chief sat cross-legged. The household officers stood around,holding shields and spears and swords over Barega's head. Then thekatikiro made a small incision in the forearm of each, half-way betweenthe hand and elbow, from which a little blood oozed. If the rite hadbeen strictly observed, each would then have licked the blood of theother, but in deference to Tom's scruple, the chief was satisfied withtheir rubbing the cuts together, so that their blood was commingled.When this was done the katikiro began to knock two pieces of metaltogether, keeping up a monotonous tink, tink, tink, and talking all thetime. He recited a sort of litany as the chief's representative: "Ifyou want shelter, my hut is yours; if you are in trouble, my warriorsare yours; if you are hungry, the food of my land is yours; if you evermake war upon me, if you ever steal from me, if you ever wound me",--andso on, the if-clauses continuing for half an hour, "may you die!" ThenMbutu got up and followed in a similar strain on Tom's behalf, afterwhich the chief presented Tom with a small cube of ivory, and Tom inreturn gave him the only thing he had of his own, a trouser-button. Theblood-brothers then heartily shook hands, and the assembled multitudeshouted the name by which the new brother was to be known amongthem--Okubokokuru, which, being interpreted, means "Strong in the Arm".Tom expressed his gratification at this mark of respect, but pleadedthat his new name might be shortened; and the chief announced that hisbrother was to be officially known as Kuboko.

  No further news had yet been received of the approaching enemy. Tom waslonging to see a white face again, but he reflected that all his friendsmust now have given him up, and that a few days more would make littledifference. Besides, he felt the military instinct alive in him. Hewas keen to set his wits once more against the Arab cunning, and when heseriously thought over it he did not regret his impulsive promise tostand by his new friends.

  "Barega," he said, with a familiarity justified by his new relationship,on the day after the ceremony, "if we are to defeat these Arabs we mustset about preparations in earnest. Your scout said they were twelvemarches away; twelve has now become ten. We have ten days. How manyfighting-men have you?"

  The chief replied that he had one hundred and fifty Bahima spearmen, andfour hundred and fifty Bairo, some of whom had spears, the rest bows andarrows. They all had small oval shields, made of light basket-work,with a large central boss of wood. Tom had already seen and examinedtheir weapons in the course of his walks about the village. The Bahimaspear had a long wooden shaft and an iron head with two blood-courses,one on each side of the central rib. The Bairo spear was of ruderconstruction, the head containing a depression on one side answering toa ridge on the other. The bow was about four feet long, with a string ofsheep-gut, and the arrows, eighteen inches in length, had barbed heads.

  "Not poisoned, I hope?" said Tom, as Barega called up a Muiro to showhis weapon. He was answered in the negative. The quiver was a longtube of hard white-wood, with a wooden cap at each end, and was wornslung by a string across the shoulder. Striking designs had been burntout in a kind of poker-work on the wood, and Tom was delighted with theartistic taste they displayed. Inside the quiver, besides some dozenarrows, a fire-stick was kept.

  "Your arms are pretty serviceable so far as they go," said Tom. "Youhaven't any guns, I suppose?"

  The chief produced a few old rusty flint-locks, along with the threemuskets taken from the Arabs, but as he had no ammunition they were inany case useless.

  "Well now, how is the village prepared to stand an assault? It isimpregnable on the north-east and east, I should say, owing to theprecipice. The path up to the north gate is steep, and therefore anattack in that direction might be easily beaten off; but on the west andsouth, as well as on the south-east, your stockade, I am afraid, iseasily scaleable. I would suggest that you dig a trench, Barega,outside the stockade, and fill it with water from the stream. And lookhere, don't you think you could make your men work? You'll never getthings done if you leave them entirely to the women, and in my country,you know, we'd think precious little of a man who made his women doeverything."

  Stimulated by Tom's energy, the chief set the whole of his people towork. Unluckily, the Bahima not being an agricultural people, they hadonly their broad knife-blades to use, though the Bairo were wellsupplied with crude implements. Making the best of things, andimpressing even the children into the task, Tom had the satisfaction,after eight days' strenuous labour, of seeing the vulnerable part of thestockade defended by a trench six feet deep and fifteen across. It wasnot carried right up to the stockade for fear of loosening the fencing,but the interval was planted with sharp stakes, forming a_chevaux-de-frise_. Under Tom's supervision a drawbridge of wattles wasrapidly constructed and thrown over the trench at the southern gate.The huts outside the stockade, which would afford good cover for anenemy, were cleared away, the owners being accommodated with new hutswithin.

  There were now only two days left before the Arabs, at the earliest,could arrive, and Tom, thinking over the probabilities andpossibilities, and as yet ignorant of the size and composition of theArab force, wondered whether the attack might resolve itself into asiege. It might of course be beaten back once for all; still, it waswell to be prepared. He advised the chief, therefore, to lay in a largestock of provisions, both animal and vegetable. A good many cattlecould at a pinch be herded inside the stockade, and the flesh ofslaughtered animals could be kept sweet under running water, in littlestreamlets diverted from the brook, or preserved in pans of salt. Greatquantities of bananas, potatoes, maize, and other crops were got in andstored in the village, until Tom was assured that there was enough foodcollected to feed the whole population for at least a month on fullrations.

  On the eleventh day, walking round once more with Barega, to see thatnothing had been left undone, Tom observed that one precaution had beenneglected. Three hundred yards to the south-east of the village therewas a somewhat extensive banana plantation, bounded on the west by thebrook. This would afford excellent cover to an attacking force armedwith rifles, and it seemed to Tom that it ought to be cut down, a coursehe at once suggested to the chief. But Barega did not appreciate thetactical point involved, and refused to allow the plantation to betouched. Besides, as he said with some truth, there was barely time tocut it down if the Arabs were to show themselves next day. AccordinglyTom had to remain satisfied with what he had achieved. He was indeedrather surprised at finding so many of his suggestions adopted withoutdemur, and was inclined to ascribe it to Mbutu, who, as he discovered,was constantly singing his master's praises and dwelling on hisbrilliant fighting qualities. But he really owed m
uch more to his owntact, and to the care with which he thought out his proposals before heplaced them before Barega. No man is quicker than the African native toappreciate real force of character.

  Scouts had been sent out to the north and east, the directions fromwhich the Arabs were presumed likely to come--men familiar with theforest, who could be trusted to find food for themselves and remaininvisible. No tidings had yet arrived of the enemy's near approach, butTom did not allow the grass to grow under his feet. There were severalsmithies in the village, fenced off from the inhabited part, and hereTom kept the smiths constantly employed in sharpening spears and tippingnew-made arrows. He found means also of still further improving hisdefences. Barega told him, as they were talking over their plans, thatthe Arab attack was almost certain to be made in a half-light, justbefore dawn. The question at once occurred to Tom: Could not the trenchbe disguised so that the enemy might flounder into it unawares? Nosooner was the question put than the chief slapped his thigh, and cried:"Yes". In his hunting he frequently covered over his elephant-pits insuch a way that the animals trod unsuspiciously upon what seemed to besolid earth, and fell helplessly into the hole. The same plan could bepursued now. No time was lost; bushels of light branches and twigs werespeedily obtained from the woods and laid across the ditch, then coveredwith earth and rubbish until the surface, except to a most critical eye,could not be distinguished from the surrounding soil. Just beforesunset, Tom walked all round the village, along the edge of the trench,and, from his inspection, he felt confident that a rapidly-moving enemywould never discover the trap.

  The twelve days were past, and still there was no sign or news of theArabs. Sentries were posted every night at short intervals inside thestockade, and more than once Tom himself went the rounds in the middleof the night to see that all was well. Late on the thirteenth day ascout came in, tired and famished, with the news that the Arabs werewithin two days' march. They had been harassed and delayed by pigmies,who had dogged them almost all the way, and had given cruel proofs ofthe sureness of their aim and the virulence of their poisons. Soonafterwards other scouts returned, confirming this information. Tom'seyes gleamed at the prospect of a stiff fight. He got the chief to calla council of his principal men, and to them he suggested a plan ofoperations.

  "Brothers," he said, "it is agreed that you trust me. I am young, asyou see; I have not fought so many fights as Barega here; my friendMsala is as brave as a lion--either might well lead you to victory. Butthe white men--your cousins--have handed down from father to son manystories of great fights, and these are in my mind. Have I done well upto this time?"

  "You have," was the ready and unanimous answer.

  "Then hear me when I tell what, with your approval, I think we shoulddo. The enemy will come up to our trench on the south and west; theywill stumble into it and be thrown into confusion. I will lead a pickedband of men out of the south gate, and my brother Barega another out ofthe north gate. We shall thus have the Arabs between us, and we willadvance to meet each other, pressing them all the way. At the same timeMsala will direct the warriors in the village to assail the enemy with athick shower of spears and arrows, taking care to hit the Arabs, and nottheir own friends. Is it understood?"

  The assembly grunted approval.

  "Then, Barega, do you at once select a hundred of your steadiest men foryourself, and a hundred also for me, so that all things may be readywhen the enemy appears."

  The arrangements were rapidly made. Every warrior in the village hadhis appointed place; a number of the cattle were brought in and tetheredwithin the stockades, the rest were driven away to the south under thecharge of armed herdsmen, who were instructed to elude the enemy to thebest of their ability.

  On the next day the force in the village was swelled by the accession oftwo separate bands of Ruanda, whose hamlets had been destroyed by theArabs, and who had flocked to the protection of Barega. The sameevening the last of the scouts came in, with the news that the enemy hadbeen hastening their march and were bound to arrive next day. He puttheir numbers at five thousand, but Tom knew enough of the Africancharacter to be assured that this estimate was far in excess of theactual number, and he took the information very quietly.

  Now that an attack was imminent, he advised Barega to call amass-meeting of the inhabitants. Standing in the midst of the circle ofnegroes, whose kind treatment of him forbade their being called savages,he felt a deep sense of his responsibility, and spoke with specialseriousness.

  "Bahima and Bairo," he said, "you are all my brothers and sisters. Ibelieve that I am doing right in helping you to defeat the enemy who hascaused so much misery to you and to all your race. Please God, we shalldefeat them. We must all do our best--some to give orders, others toobey. My sisters, you will stay with your children in the middle of thevillage. The Arabs will have fire-sticks, and there is no need for anyof you to run into danger. Your husbands will defend you, and strikehard for their homes."

  Speeches at greater length were delivered by the chief and the katikiro.The people were deeply impressed; never had they gone to war in any suchway before; and Tom on his side was struck with their intelligence, andthe eagerness they showed to follow instructions so novel to them. Hewas a little uncertain of the steadiness of the Bairo, who were moreimpetuous and less docile than the Bahima; but they had been dividedinto companies under Bahima officers, and Tom himself had put themthrough a little drill in the brief intervals left by their task offortifying the village. All that he feared was that they might breakout in wild rushes, after the undisciplined negro's manner, and leavethe stockade insufficiently defended.

  Next morning, just as light was breaking, the sentries gave word thatthe enemy was advancing. Tom, waked by Mbutu out of a long quiet sleep,hastened to his post at the southern gate. For days he had beenhammering it home into the negroes' heads that silence was a strongweapon on their side, but the negro cannot change his nature in a week,and as soon as the news had run through the camp, the eager warriorscame clamorously out of their huts to the stockade. Tom bade them keepout of sight, and the enemy, advancing rapidly in crescent-shapedformation stretching from south-east to north-west, must have believedthat the noise was merely the usual morning bustle in a large village.On they came, Arabs mingled with Manyema, in perfect silence and fairorder, confident of finding easy access to their expected prize. Thehorns of the crescent reached the trench; twenty men at each extremitystepped heedlessly on to it, and instantly they were in the water,floundering beyond their depth. Loud cries of dismay filled the air;the rest of the force halted in amazement, scarcely able in the faintlight to perceive what had happened. Then the deep boom of a drumrolled from the village, over the precipice, into the wooded plain.

  Instantly a thick cloud of missiles flew from the stockade, arrowswhizzed, spears hurtled through the air. At the same moment, Tom, withhis hundred, sallied out from the southern gate, the men raising afierce whoop of exultation. From the northern gate, after a barelyperceptible interval, came an answering cry; and within the stockade thewarriors, hurling their weapons at the centre of the Arab line, addedtheir shouts to the din. The confusion of the Arabs was too great topermit of their firing a volley; a few separate slugs fell among theBahima, and ill-aimed spears struck down a few. But the troops of Tomand Barega were pressing hard upon the extremities of their line; theywere driven in towards the centre. An attempt was made by their leadersto rank them in some sort of order, but the necessity of facing two waysat once baffled their efforts; the Bahima were upon them in a wildcharge, and with cries of mingled fright and disappointment they brokeand ran.

  With yells of triumph the Bahima dashed in pursuit. But the sun was nowpeeping, large and red, over a distant ridge, and by its light Tom saw afresh and well-ordered body of men advancing to the support of thefugitives. Divining that this was the Arab reserve, he ordered hisdrummer to beat the recall, at the very instant when the enemy, even atthe risk of killing their own men, ope
ned fire. The command was timely,for the Bahima, unaccustomed to the fire of muskets, already showedsigns of trepidation. His drum was answered by the chief's, and the twobands retreated to their several gates, followed by the hostile force,their return being covered by a hot discharge of missiles from thestockade. After some hesitation, the enemy drew off to reconsider theirplan of attack, pursued by a loud chorus of derisive yells.

  Tom had not the heart to check the self congratulation of the people,who celebrated their victory with song and dance. Victorious, certainly,had they been, but Tom, cool in the midst of the excitement, hadcarefully scanned the opposing forces to estimate their strength, and hesaw that Barega's warriors were greatly outnumbered. They were no morethan six hundred fighting men all told, while the enemy, as nearly as hecould tell, consisted of at least three times that number, some ninetyof them being Arabs, and the rest Manyema. The success of the Bahimawas evidently due solely to the surprise and confusion of the enemy,for, even with the advantage of the stockade, they could scarcely hopeto outmatch a force so much larger, armed, moreover, as two hundred andfifty of them were, with muskets and rifles. The Bahima losses so farhad been few; two men had been killed and five wounded, of whom two diedlater. Of the enemy, six Arabs and about thirty Manyema had been leftupon the field, and others, doubtless, lay drowned at the bottom of theditch. It was with some anxiety that Tom awaited the dawn of the nextday. He passed a sleepless night, framing many conjectures as to theenemy's further operations, and thinking out plans for theirdiscomfiture. But morning broke in silence; Tom wondered whether spearand shield were to remain idle. Looking over the stockade about teno'clock, he saw a movement amid a clump of trees about half a mile upthe slope to the south-west, and, carrying his eye downwards to thenorth-west, he observed similar evidences of activity in the thickerwoods in that direction also. Before he had quite realized what thismight portend, a large body of the enemy emerged from each clump, manyof the men carrying what appeared to be a kind of trellis-work. Theirobject flashed instantly into Tom's mind; they were going to bridge thetrench. Drums beat, and Bahima and Bairo rushed to the pointsthreatened; but the enemy halted just out of range of their arrows, and,under cover of a phalanx of native shields, prepared to rush theirextemporized bridge across the ditch.

  Behind the stockade the defenders were keenly alert; Barega had commandof the north-western section, and the katikiro, who, genial time-serveras he was in peace, was a very paladin in war, commanded on thesouth-west. Seeing that all along the western boundary the defence wasin good hands, Tom hastened to the south-east to assure himself that nodanger need be feared in that direction. Barely half a minute after hereached a smithy in the south-eastern corner, from the yard of which hecould scan the whole country to the horizon, he saw a strong body of menspring out of the banana plantation he had vainly urged Barega to cutdown. They, like their fellows on the other side, had with them a longpiece of trellis-work. Evidently there was not a moment to lose. Tomdespatched Mbutu to inform Barega of the danger; but so quickly did theenemy move, that in less than two minutes they had arrived at the edgeof the ditch, flung the trellis bridge across, and begun to swarm overto the other side, nimbly evading the planted stakes.

  Tom looked around. Only some ten men were within call. Summoning theseto his assistance, he turned to defend the stockade. He had no weaponbut the musket got in the forest, and that, in default of ammunition, hecould only use as a club. By the side of the smith's rude anvil he sawa recently-sharpened sickle, with a handle eighteen inches long. This heseized, and sprang to his post again. Some twenty of the enemy, he saw,bore light scaling-ladders, hastily constructed since the previousfight. These they placed against the stockade and began to clamber up.There was a fierce hand-to-hand fight. Tom caught hold of the top ofone of the ladders, on which two Arabs were ascending, and putting forthhis utmost strength, flung it back so that it fell on the climbers.Some of the Bahima were thrusting their spears through interstices inthe stockade, and cries of agony bore witness to their success. But forevery man that fell another sprang up to take his place. Alreadyseveral of the enemy had reached the tops of their ladders, and werefiring, fortunately with erratic aim, at the panting defenders. Three,indeed, had clambered down on the inner side, and still there was nosign of the expected reinforcements. Tom had been slashing with hissickle in his right hand, and warding off with the musket in his leftthe blows of Arab swords and Manyema spears. Seeing three of the enemywithin his lines, he was down in a moment at the foot of the stockade.One of the three he clubbed with his musket, and then, while Mbutu, whoreturned at this moment, fiercely engaged the second, he pressed hotlyupon the third. Two of the Bahima were prostrate; the remaining eightwere vainly attempting to stem the torrent now pouring over thepalisade, and Tom was in the thick of the melee, laying about himdoughtily. It was a tense moment; Tom and his little band wereoutnumbered ten to one; and the fate of the village hung in the balance.The enemy were creeping up behind for a final rush, when the katikirocharged down at the head of two hundred yelling Bairo. The stockade wascleared in a few seconds and the baffled enemy driven back over theditch.

  "Whew!" blew Tom, and then for the first time became aware that he hadreceived a slight spear-wound in the right arm. "Blood-brother indeed!"he said with a smile to the katikiro. "But Msala, my friend, you wereonly just in time. In a minute or two it would have been another case ofwhat-d'ye-call-him against the world. Why were you so long bringing upreinforcements?"

  The katikiro was exceedingly sorry, but just before Mbutu had reachedhim a similar request had been made by the chief, and he had felt bound,of course, to obey his chief first. But it turned out after all to be amere waste of time, for the enemy in the north-west quarter, whilemaking an extremely blusterous demonstration, had never come withinstriking distance, and Msala had soon recognized that their show ofactivity was a mere feint to draw off attention from the real attack atthe other end. Tom saw that the delay had been unavoidable, and couldonly be thankful that the much-needed support had come after all in thevery nick of time.

  The brief rest was a boon; but the enemy were not routed, nor evendefinitively driven off. They were still clinging to their positionoutside the stockade, and the Bahima could not get at them withoutexposing themselves, nor even assail them effectively with their spears,for the Arabs had rifles, and were indeed dropping shots over into thevillage. It was clearly necessary to put a stop to these offensivetactics, and Tom was perplexed as to what measure to adopt. Suddenlythe idea occurred to him: could he try a few fireballs? Vaguerecollections came to him of something he had read about fireballs indefence of towns during the wars in the Netherlands. He had noticedplenty of coarse wool of sheep and goats in the village; there wereheaps of shavings where the artificers had been making spear-shafts; andthe place was reeking with fat of various kinds. He knew also thatthere was a large store of the native spirituous liquors, museru andmarwa, in a shed near the hut of the chief's cook and purveyor, themuchumbi wanyama, and he thought it would be rather a good than an evilif some of the spirits were consumed externally. He therefore left thekatikiro in command while he himself went to consult the chief.

  Barega was charmed with the simplicity and ingenuity of the notion ofworrying the enemy with fireballs, but somewhat downcast when he learntthe use to which his wine-cellar was to be put. Thereupon Tom, with thetact that had marked all his dealing with the natives, did not insist,but quietly pointed out that if the Arabs got in, they would set fire tothe village, and the spirits would be destroyed with all the rest. Itwas surely better to use half of it in doing some mischief among theenemy, and perhaps by this means decisively turn the scale.

  The chief thought over the matter, consulted the kasegara, and finally,with an obvious wrench, gave his consent to the course Kuboko proposed.No more time was lost; twenty natives were immediately set to roll upballs about six inches in diameter, made of wool and shavings and fat,and anything else combustible that ca
me to hand, and finally steeped inthe heady spirit. When some hundred balls were ready, Tom had themcarried to his old post, where the Arabs were once more attempting toscale the stockade. They were lighted and thrown in rapid successionover the stockade on to the trellis-bridge. The Arabs at first tried toquench the fallen balls, but others came flaming through the air stillmore rapidly, and after some score had been thrown, fearing that theirretreat over the ditch was likely to be cut off by the burning of theirbridge, the enemy threw up the sponge and beat a hasty retreat. As theyretired, the Bahima gave a tremendous whoop, and sent a cloud of arrowsand spears after them, causing many a gap in their ranks. They fled onin rage and confusion, and vanished behind the plantation.

  "Ah! I think they've had enough," said Tom. "Barega, my brother, whatdo you think of our morning's work?"

  Barega confessed himself "pleased too much", as Mbutu interpreted him."Say one fing, sah; say no want no more museru wasted!"

  "Good heavens!" was Tom's thought, "it's all got to be argued again.Wasted! As Mr. Barkworth would say, 'There's no gratitude in thesenatives!'" But all he said was: "Tell the chief that I hope we shallneed no more of his excellent stuff, and that I consider he has shown afine spirit of self-denial for the common good. The scamp!" he addedunder his breath; "he ought to be as pleased as Punch!"

  Tom was in the highest spirits. He felt confident now that theresources at his command were sufficient to defend the village againstall attacks in force, and he hoped that the enemy would appreciate thesituation and relinquish their enterprise.

  The rest of that day passed uneventfully. At night sentries were postedas usual, and none of the precautions were relaxed; but there was noattack. The day slipped by with the same tranquillity. Parties of theenemy were seen at times, but they were always out of range, and, so faras could be ascertained from the village, were not making anypreparations for renewing the assault. That night Tom, walking round bythe stockade the last thing before turning in, noticed that at shortintervals from the north gate round the western and southern sides tothe extreme south-east corner, where the ground shelved down rapidly tothe foot of the precipice, large watch-fires were burning, which had notpreviously been the case.

  "What does that mean?" he thought. "Are they going to make a regularsiege of it? I hope not, for to be cooped up here for another weekwould be awful. I'd give something for a newspaper, or Ranjy's cricketbook, or even Euclid--yes, by Jove, even old _quod eratdemonstrandum_--to help pass the time away. By the by, I'll beforgetting all my maths out here, and if I'm to stick to engineeringthat'll never do. Well, if it turns out a siege, I'll set myself a fewstiff problems and correct the solutions experimentally, eh?--besidesteaching these beggars something of infantry drill. Heigh-ho! 'theheathen in his blindness'--who'd have thought I should ever be livingamong 'em, and a blood-brother too!"

  And as he walked back to his hut, in a fit of abstraction he began towhistle the tune of "From Greenland's icy mountains," to the greatcontentment of the katikiro lying awake.