Tom Willoughby's Scouts: A Story of the War in German East Africa

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XVI--DRAWN BLANK

  When Mirambo came up, hard on the heels of Mwesa, he too fell on hisface and greeted Tom with an air of mingled humility and gratitude. Inthe absence of the m'sungu his position had been a difficult one. Themen of the hunting party had come dropping in singly and in smallgroups, and the story they told, magnifying the numbers of the enemy,had struck consternation and fear into the hearts of the people. If them'sungu was gone, what would become of them? Who would tell them whatto do? How could they deal with white men's war-power without a whiteman to help them? Some of the weaker-kneed among them had talked offleeing from the nullah and betaking themselves to M'setu, and it hadneeded all Mirambo's authority to check the panic. He had reminded themof what the m'sungu had already done: how he had escaped the snares ofReinecke, quelled the German drill-sergeant with a look, led them forthwith Reinecke himself a prisoner, shown them how to fortify the nullah,driven back the enemy. Surely one who had done all this would not nowfall a prey to the evil men; surely he would come back to them.

  Strangely enough, as Tom thought, the old chief's arguments had beenstrongly backed by the askaris, who, as fighting-men, were held inrespect by the Wahehe. They expressed the utmost confidence that them'sungu would return, and declared for holding the nullah at least untilit was definitely known what had become of him. No doubt their motivewas complicated by fear of the consequences if they fell into Germanhands and were treated as deserters; but Tom did not know this, and whenhe heard of their loyalty he abandoned his last objections, and resolvedto incorporate them in his fighting force.

  He listened to Mirambo's story, interpreted by Mwesa, only for a minuteor two, for there was work to be done. During Mwesa's absence he hadrapidly made his plans. The German askaris in the ravine above hadalmost certainly heard the shouts which had greeted his arrival. Theirofficer would send men forward to discover the meaning of the shouts,and what had happened to Reinecke and the Arab. They would no doubtmove with caution, and, unfamiliar with the ground, would take some timein scouting over the rough, steep slopes, and would probably hesitate toadventure into the cleft which dropped deep into the unknown. If theycame so far as to find the body of Haroun, they were more likely tohasten back with the news than to court danger or death themselves bydescending lower. What action, then, would the lieutenant take? He wouldwish to learn his superior officer's fate, probably come down with hismen, and, if he discovered the passage into the nullah, might risk anattack.

  Tom felt that he must first guard against this. Getting Mirambo tochoose a dozen of the best shots, he sent them up the ladder, withorders to post themselves in the cleft behind bushes or boulders, andfire at the enemy if they appeared. Though outnumbered, with theadvantage of position and surprise they could probably check thedescent. In case they should be driven back, he ordered Mirambo himselfto hold thirty men under cover near the margin of the lake, and at thesame time to keep Reinecke under guard. Mirambo was the last man in theworld to be overcome by any German blandishments.

  The non-combatants--old men, women and children--must be protected fromharm. He ordered them to withdraw some little distance down the nullah,out of range of fire either from above or from the ground at the foot ofthe cliff.

  For himself, he had resolved on a venturesome, if not a risky, course.There were still a few hours of daylight left--long enough to lead aforce out of the nullah, along the foothills above, to the ravine wherethe enemy were encamped. The probabilities were that, met by rifle-fireas they descended the cleft, they would hesitate to press an attackagainst unknown numbers, and make their way back to headquarters toreport the disappearance of their captain and the necessity of largerforces. Tom thought that with luck he might reach the mouth of theravine in time to ambush them, cut them off, and capture them all. Hismen being only partly trained, he would need perhaps twice as many asthe enemy numbered, which meant almost all the Wahehe who were able toshoot. But his new-born confidence in his askaris led him to adopt thebold course of leaving them to defend the southern end of the nullah.It was scarcely likely that another hostile force was approaching inthat direction: Reinecke had probably been confident of an easy victorythrough the back door. Yet nothing should be left to chance; and thedefence of the barricade might be safely entrusted for a few hours tothe askaris and the remnant of the Wahehe, with Mirambo and his party athand as reinforcements in case of need.

  Tom lost no time in making these arrangements, and an hour after hisreturn he led some eighty men out through the barricade, swung round tothe right, and climbed the foothills over which the course of the ravinelay.

  "They'll have to carry me back," thought Tom, before he had walked amile. "Didn't know I was so fagged."

  Tom, indeed, had been drawing rather heavily on his physical reserves,and to-day for the first time weariness warned him against overdoing it.Now, more than ever, was it necessary that he should not break down, forhe felt certain that the difficulties of his people were only beginning.

  Having already been on his feet for eight or nine hours, he found thatmarch of a few miles, at the close of the day, more exhausting than hewould have imagined. The country was broken and hilly, now bare rock,now soft spongy ground cumbered with tangled vegetation and overshadowedby forest trees. But the chance of trapping the force that had beensent to trap him sustained his spirits; and the mind can, for a time,compel the body to feats beyond its normal strength. His men, fresh,vigorous, inspirited by the return of their leader and the recapture ofReinecke, marched on with eagerness to reach their goal: theirenthusiasm was itself a stimulant to him.

  There was no path along those rugged, wooded foot-hills. The sun wasblanketed by the rain-laden sky. It was possible only to guess theircourse; and Tom, seeing by his watch that little more than half-an-hourof daylight was left, began to fear that darkness would surprise himbefore he should have struck upon the ravine. But at this very moment ofmisgiving he was almost at the edge. A few yards farther brought him toa sharp declivity. He ordered his men to halt, advanced with Mwesathrough the low-growing trees, and looking cautiously to right and left,beheld the long hollow that was his journey's end.

  It appeared to him that he had hit the ravine at a spot half-way up itslength. None of the enemy was in sight. The askaris, if they remainedwhere he had last seen them, were probably some distance to the right;the sentries at the mouth of the ravine must be three or four hundredyards to the left. These latter must be secured if his plan was to havefull success; so, returning to his men, he chose four to accompany himand Mwesa, and hastened along through the scrub near the brink of theravine.

  Scouting with circumspection, he arrived at the place where the steepsides fell to the level of the surrounding country. The sentries werenot where they had been. He sent Mwesa to worm his way across undercover of the bushes and to see if he could track the men to anotherpost. The boy returned sooner than he had expected.

  "Fink all gone, sah," said he.

  "The sentries, you mean?"

  "All fella askaris, sah. All gone, no fear."

  "How do you know?"

  Mwesa looked down at Tom's feet.

  "Dey hab got big boots like sah. Sah come see."

  Tom went down with him into the midst of the long grass and the bushesthat covered the centre of the ravine. Broken twigs and branches andlong swathes of trampled grass marked the recent passage of men, andMwesa pointed out on the damp soil the impressions of heavy boots, andshowed him that in the freshest the heels were up, not down, the ravine.A few minutes' investigation in both directions placed it beyond doubtthat, not long before, a body of men had marched westward into theforest.

  "Too late!" muttered Tom. "But we must make sure. Mwesa, scout alongto the cleft. Be quick, for it will be dark soon."

  He returned to his party, dragging his weary limbs. In twenty minutesMwesa came back, hot and breathless.

  "All gone, sah. Haroun him stay: big birds dey find him."

  Tom sh
uddered. The vultures were already at work. "Come, let us getback," he said. "Get some of the men to make a _machila_. I can't walkanother step, and we can't venture the climb down in the dark."

  With two rifles and some pliant tendrils a litter was soon constructed,and reclining on this Tom headed the march home. He was tired anddisappointed; the men were crestfallen: some asked why the m'sungu didnot pursue the askaris. But Tom was in no condition to follow up theenemy, even if his reason had favoured the idea. He could only guess atwhat had happened: that the lieutenant, alarmed by the distant shouts,had gone forward, discovered the dead Arab, inferred that Reinecke alsohad come to grief, and concluding that the game was up, had withdrawnhis men hurriedly and in something of a panic. To pursue in darknesswould be folly. Tom consoled himself for his disappointment with thereflection that, after all, more prisoners would have been anuisance--so many more mouths to feed, and a burden to the guards.

  The homeward journey was slow and laborious: only by the touch of theirbare feet could the Wahehe distinguish in the darkness the tracks theyhad made as they came. Tom slumbered a part of the way, and when, at alate hour, they regained the nullah, he waited only to hear that nothinghad disturbed the peace and to arrange for Reinecke's accommodationduring the night, before seeking his hut and throwing himself, worn out,upon the mattress of plaited grass which some of the women had made forhim.

  Next morning, after ten hours' unbroken sleep, he rose, a littlestiffly, to face the work of another day.

  "First job, to dispose of Reinecke," he thought.

  The German was in a furious temper.

  "You wish to kill me," he cried, when Tom came to him. "You put me in awretched native hut, without a fire, without blankets, to perish ofcold, to be struck with ague. As a prisoner of war--you call it war?--Idemand proper treatment, according to international law."

  "I don't know anything about international law," said Tom; "common lawand common sense would set you dangling from a tree, I suspect. But I'mnot your judge. While you're here you'll be treated like the otherprisoners. You'll join them on the island yonder."

  "I must have a separate hut. In Germany officers and men are neverlodged together: it is forbidden."

  "We are not in Germany," said Tom, curtly. "The hut is large enough tohold you all: there's no room on the island for another, even if timecould be spared to build it. If you feel contaminated by the company offellow Germans you can spend your leisure in making for yourself apartition: there's plenty of material on the island. You can then livein your own first-class compartment: the men will probably prefer it."

  Reinecke was patently surprised. The young cub, as he might have putit, seemed to have suddenly grown up. Even at that last dinner in thebungalow Tom had not taken quite this tone with him. He said no more atthe moment: his thoughts were his own. In a few minutes he was puntedacross the lake on the raft, and left on the shore of the island tointroduce himself to his fellow captives. Tom smiled as he watched themsalute him, then step hastily aside as, without returning their salute,he pushed his way into the hut. In a few moments he came out and,gnawing his moustache, gazed across at the village, and up the side ofthe nullah. His lips moved: then he wheeled round and re-entered thehut, whence he emerged no more that day.

  It was a busy day for Tom. He saw that the failure of Reinecke'sexpedition was sure to provoke the Germans to a serious attempt to dealwith him. They would no longer hold him lightly, and suppose that hecould be snuffed out by a handful of Askaris. When they came, theywould come in force. It might be in a day or two; it might be perhapsafter a week or more; much would depend on the state of the weather.Were the interval long or short, it must be utilised to the full instrengthening his position.

  An obvious precaution was to establish scouting posts betweenBismarckburg and the scene of the previous day's adventures. Tom wentover the ground with some of M'setu's men who were in his regularservice as scouts, and fixed on two well-wooded knolls that commandedthe track leading to the ravine. He surveyed the ravine itself with aview to fortifying it--or rather of blocking the way to the cleft--andcame to the conclusion that this would involve too much labour, even ifit could be achieved with any success. A more feasible scheme was toform barricades of rocks and trees at various points on the narrowcleft. These, held by a few men, would interpose awkward obstacles toany force that attempted to attack by the newly discovered back door.

  Tom set some of his men to work at once in erecting three barricades,some thirty yards apart. Then he clambered down by the ladder, andrealising that that ingenious contrivance would hardly bear the strainof frequent use, gave directions that it should be strengthened. Bythis means communication between the nullah and the cleft above wouldalways be safe: while in the event of his men being forced back andfollowed by the enemy, the ladder could be cut away, leaving theattackers in the air, so to speak, nearly twenty feet above the ground.

  All day the sky threatened rain, and distant rumbles of thunder wereheard; but the storm held off until these preliminary measures had beencarried out. Soon after dark the heavens opened. Thunder growled,cracked, bellowed: the air was one vast shaking noise. A vivid glarerose up from the horizon until all the world seemed on fire. Greatbursts of light, now in one quarter, now in another, shot through thesky like gigantic squibs; and dazzling streaks of jagged brilliance rentthe firmament. And then, in the midst of this wonderful phantasmagoria,it was as if the fire-maker set out to quench the universalconflagration. Down fell the rain, in sheets, in torrents, in cascadesof hailstones as large as eggs. The people cowered, shivering,shrieking, in their huts. Out of the boiling lake the stream poured inangry flood, hissing and raving like a maddened beast let loose.Tingling in every nerve, Tom watched the amazing storm for hour afterhour: what were man's puny battles compared with this titanic conflictof the elements? And it was only when the thunder died away in sullenmutterings, and the lightning gave pale flickers and tired gleams, butstill the rain roared unceasingly--it was only then that Tom becamealive to the very practical question: would huts, stores, barricades,all be washed away?