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IN THE GRIP OF THE MULLAH
_A TALE OF ADVENTURE IN SOMALILAND_
BY CAPTAIN F. S. BRERETON
Author of "One of the Fighting Scouts" "The Dragon of Pekin" "With Rifle and Bayonet" etc.
_ILLUSTRATED BY CHARLES M. SHELDON_
NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1903
Copyright, 1903, by CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
_Published September, 1903_
THE CAXTON PRESS New York City, U. S. A.
THE LEADING MAN FELL TO THE DECK.]
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE CASTAWAY 1
II. OFF TO ADEN 16
III. THE GUN-RUNNERS 31
IV. IN DISGUISE 49
V. A DESPERATE ENCOUNTER 66
VI. ON AFRICAN SHORES 84
VII. THE "MAD" MULLAH 101
VIII. PREPARING TO ADVANCE 120
IX. AGAINST HEAVY ODDS 137
X. FIGHTING THE TRIBESMEN 155
XI. A MARCH INTO THE DESERT 172
XII. IN TOUCH WITH THE MULLAH 190
XIII. THE WHITE PRISONER 207
XIV. HEMMED IN BY THE ENEMY 223
XV. A CLEVER RUSE 239
XVI. THE LAST DARING ATTEMPT 255
XVII. A DASH FOR LIBERTY 271
XVIII. IN THE GOLD MINE 287
XIX. A STRATEGIC RETREAT 305
XX. BACK TO THE COAST 323
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
THE LEADING MAN FELL TO THE DECK _Frontispiece_
THE NATIVES CROWDED ABOUT THEM WITH THREATENING GESTURES 50
MAP OF SOMALILAND 108
"FIRE!" SHOUTED JIM. "EMPTY YOUR RIFLES INTO THEM!" 148
JIM KEPT HIS REVOLVER STEADILY LEVELLED 218
JIM SPRANG UPON THE MAN 266
THE WARRIORS HAD HALTED UPON THE PATH WITHIN A FEW PACES OF THE FUGITIVES 292
IN THE GRIP OF THE MULLAH
CHAPTER I
THE CASTAWAY
"Perim!" shouted Colonel Hubbard, placing his hand to his mouth, and hislips close to the ear of his friend Major Bellamy. "The island of Perim,or I am much mistaken. It lies in the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, and hasproved the destruction of more than one fine vessel. I can tell youthat, on this dark night and with this fierce gale blowing, we are luckyto have caught even a glimpse of the light, and still more fortunate tohave slipped by in safety. Now we leave the Red Sea, and run into theGulf of Aden, where we shall feel the full force of the wind and waves.However, what does that matter? Better plenty of water all round, eventhough it is lashed into frenzy, than a lee shore close at hand, a darknight, and no bearings to steer by. Halloa, there's the flash of thelight again!"
Clinging with one hand to the rail which ran round the saloon, thespeaker pointed eagerly into the darkness. Aided by the faint gleam ofthe electric lamp which was suspended from the spar deck above theirheads, his comrade, Major Bellamy, followed the direction of hisfinger, and having watched for a few seconds, suddenly exclaimed:
"Yes, colonel, you're right! I could have sworn that there was nothingbut inky blackness over in that direction. But there's no doubt aboutthe matter. The light is flashing in that quarter, I'll stake my wordupon it. Won't our skipper be joyful! I heard him saying, an hour ormore ago, that our safety depended upon his sighting the island; andthere it is, sure enough. Well it's a great relief, and now I can turnin with some degree of assurance. I'm not nervous, you know, colonel,but, by Jove, a storm like this, and a pitch dark night such as we areexperiencing, make one a little anxious in spite of one's self. Now, ifit were on land, and we were in an enemy's country, I should feel farmore at my ease. I'd double the pickets, of course, so as to give theboys a little more courage, don't you know; for even a soldier feelsqueer when posted a couple of hundred yards away from his fellows,especially if he knows that a score or more of niggers are probablycrawling round like ghosts, ready to fall upon him at any moment. Yes,I've had experience of that, and I well remember how fidgety I was, forwe were fighting on the West Coast, and knew well that the natives ofAshantee were as cruel and as cunning as they make 'em. So I'd doublethe pickets, colonel, and I'd make a point of going round to inspectthem, and at the same time to encourage them, every quarter of an hour.Depend upon it, nothing like letting Thomas Atkins know that his officeris at hand, taking an interest in him, and ready to help him at anymoment."
"Just so," responded the colonel, clinging the while with all hisstrength to the rail, for the steamer was rolling and plunging heavily."Quite right, Bellamy; I'd do the same. But what can our poor skipperdo? He can't send out sentries, and if he could they would be useless ona night like this. He must just trust to his eyes, and to his skill as anavigator. But, thank Heaven, we are out of the Red Sea and well on ourway for India. Heigho! I'm sleepy, and, like you, want to turn in.Good-night! Let's hope the sea will have gone down by morning."
With a nod, they separated, and, still taking advantage of the rail,went along the slippery and deserted deck to their quarters. This was noeasy matter, for every now and again their progress was impeded by theplunging of the vessel, which caused them to halt and cling franticallyto their support till they saw a favourable opportunity to proceed.
"Good-night!" shouted the major, who reached the companion first,turning to wave his arm to his friend; but his words were caught by thewind and whisked into space. Then he dived below. The colonel never sawhim again.
Colonel Hubbard and his friend Major Bellamy were on their way to Indiato rejoin their regiments, both having for the past two years beenengaged in special work in South Africa. At another time the ship wouldhave been full to overflowing with troops, going to the East to replacethose who had completed their term of service there, but, owing to thefact that all Indian reliefs had practically been suspended during theSouth African war, there were only a few other officers on board.
The steamer had sailed from Liverpool ten days before, and had made afine passage to the Suez Canal. But now a change had come over theweather, the glass had fallen with surprising swiftness, and a fiercegale had sprung up. Navigating his vessel with all possible care, thecaptain had at length the satisfaction of piloting her past the islandof Perim, and had breathed more freely as he steered a course into theGulf of Aden, _en route_ for the Indian Ocean.
"We're safer here, at any rate," he remarked in tones of satisfaction tothe first mate, as the two stood poring over a chart in the deck-houseon the bridge. "We've our bearings, and can go straight ahead till dawn.But we shall have to be careful to take into account the set of thegale. I reckon that we are making a knot or more to leeward for everyfive we advance. So keep her helm well up, Farmer, and send
to wake meif you have any doubts. If I were at all anxious, I'd keep at my posttill morning; but now that we're in the open sea, there can be nothingto fear. A bright look-out, then, and good-night."
The captain gave vent to a loud yawn, and wearily left the chart-house;for he had resolutely kept at his station on the bridge ever since theship entered the canal, and was now completely worn out. Groping hisway, he descended to the spar deck, and disappeared into his cabin. Tenminutes later the gleam of light from his porthole was suddenly cut off,and the deck outside was plunged into darkness.
For three hours the fine ship plunged forward, ploughing deep into thewaves and rolling heavily every minute. But no one suspected danger. Whyshould they indeed? What harm could come to such a powerful vessel inthis open sea? Evidently the mate, as he kept watch upon the bridge, hadno qualms, for he even hummed the refrain of a popular London air as heclung to the chart-house table, and pricked off the course run duringthe night. Danger! Why, not a soul expected such a thing, for if theyhad, would the passengers have been lying below in their bunks, vainlyendeavouring to snatch a few moments' sleep? Certainly not. They wouldhave been cowering in the open, a prey to terror, expecting every momentto bring some dire catastrophe.
"We're in the gulf, and safe," murmured the colonel, thrusting a pillowbetween his shoulders and the edge of his bunk, so that he might retainhis position more easily. "We've a capable skipper and crew, and, so faras I can see, we have nothing to fear. So here's for a snooze tillmorning."
With that he turned on his side, and, covering his head with theclothes, settled himself for slumber.
Crash! The shock threw every sleeper from his bunk, and even brought thesteersman to the deck. Crash! Suddenly arrested in her onward progress,the ship drew back for a moment, and then hurled herself with awfulforce against the obstruction. For the space of a few seconds sheremained firmly fixed, and then, to the accompaniment of rending ironand timber, and the crash of the waves as they beat against her side,she slid into deep water once more, and wallowed there, as if undecidedhow to act. But there was no pausing with that sea raging all about her,and with such a gale forcing her onward. Heaving her stern high into theair, she rushed upon the unknown reef for the third time, seeming toleap at it eagerly in the vain hope of surmounting it. A moment laterher keel fell upon the rock with a sickening bump, and breaking asunderin the bows, she disappeared in the raging sea.
It was a frightful calamity, and Colonel Hubbard, as he clung to aportion of the wreck, could scarcely believe that he was awake--couldhardly realize that this was not some terrible dream, a nightmare forwhich the storm and its attendant discomforts was to blame.
"Wrecked?" he wondered, shaking his head to clear his eyes of water, andshifting his grasp so as to obtain a more secure position. "Am I awake,or is this only imagination? No; I am wet and shivering. It is all tooreal."
At this moment a monstrous wave bore down upon him, and clingingdesperately to the tangled seaweed with which the rock was thicklycovered, he braced himself to withstand the strain to which he was aboutto be subjected. Taking a long breath, he had just time to close hiseyes when the mass of water was upon him. Clasping him in its coldembrace, it tore him from his hold as if he were weaker than a child,and then, bearing him onward, it hurled him against a piece of floatingwreckage, and left him there, breathless, gasping for air, and almostunconscious. But the instinct of self-preservation soon asserted itself,and ere a minute had passed he was astride the floating woodwork,clinging to it with all his strength.
"If this is torn from me," he gasped, "I shall be washed away anddrowned. But it shan't be, I'll see to that, for I don't mean to dieyet. Things look black enough, but I won't give in."
Clenching his teeth, the gallant colonel clung to the wreckage gamely,and, though frequently submerged beneath the huge masses of green waterwhich rolled and tossed about him, contrived to maintain his hold.Breathless, and shivering--for it was the winter season, and apiercingly cold wind blew through the gulf--he rode his strange steedthrough the remainder of the night, and just as the dawn was breaking,and the dark clouds in the east were beginning to light up with the raysof the rising sun, he espied a low bank of sand lying directly beforehim. Shading his eyes with his hands, he looked long and eagerly, andthen gave vent to a shout of joy. Yes, though he had lost the bestfriend he ever had during the night, and had to mourn the death of everyone of the crew and passengers of the ill-fated liner, yet so strong isthe love of life to the average healthy individual, that ColonelHubbard's spirits were raised to the highest by this piece of goodfortune.
"Land, land!" he shouted excitedly, sitting up upon the baulk of timberto obtain a better view. "I reckon it is two hundred yards away, andgetting closer every minute. I'm a bit done, or I'd make nothing of theswim. But I mustn't forget that the gulf has a reputation for itssharks; they are said to swarm everywhere, and to be only too ready tosnap up everything that comes within their reach. Ugh, I won't give 'ema chance!"
Shivering at the thought, the colonel turned once more to the land, andwatched it closely as the light of the dawning day disclosed its variousfeatures.
"A long rolling sandbank," he said thoughtfully, "with blue hills in thedistance, and scarcely a patch of vegetation to be seen. Now, what shorecan it be? The gale has been from the northeast, and therefore it mustbe the northern coast of Africa, and, I fear, a desolate, uninhabitedregion altogether. But I mustn't begin to grumble when Providence haswatched over me so carefully. I must just make the best of matters, andbe thankful that my life is saved."
Cheering himself with these thoughts, and with the reflection that, onceashore, the greater part of his troubles would be ended, the colonelbegan to paddle with his hands and kick out with his feet. By now, too,he had the satisfaction of finding that he was in smooth water, though aline of hissing surf in front of him, and the dull boom of breakersfalling upon the sand told him clearly that he had still some danger tocontend with. But what was it, after all, when compared with the stormhe had outlived that night? He asked himself the question, and foranswer prepared to leave the piece of wreckage which had proved hissalvation, and strike out for the shore.
"I should be a fool to stick to it longer," he said. "Once in thosebreakers it would be twisted and turned in every direction, and if itdid not stun me by a blow upon the head, it might very well roll over meand crush the life out of my body. So here goes!"
Slipping gently into the water, he struck out for the shore, firmlydetermined to do battle with the breakers. Almost before he thought itpossible he reached the broad white line, and was engulfed in a moment.And now, indeed, his powers of endurance were put to the test, forwhereas a green wave had frequently covered him for the space of aminute whilst in the open sea, now the seething water bubbled andfrothed about his mouth and ears continually. Then, too, caught by thefierce wind which was blowing, a sheet of spray covered the tops of thebreakers, making breathing almost an impossibility. But the colonel wasno chicken, and now that he had come through so much danger, wasdetermined to reach the shore alive. Undaunted, therefore, and withnever a pause, he struggled manfully onward.
At length, worn out with his exertions, he reached shallow water, andthough the receding waves did their utmost to drag him backwards, hecontrived to escape their fatal embrace, and to reach a belt of dry andglistening sand upon which he threw himself at full length, for he wasutterly exhausted. A quarter of an hour later he sprang to his feet,and, turning from the sea, set out for the interior.
"I shall starve if I stay here," he said, "for there's not a living soulin sight, and not a tree or green bush to be seen. I'm done, and I wantfood and drink badly. Perhaps I shall find both over that line ofsandhills, and in any case by climbing to the top I shall have a betteropportunity of looking about me to see how the land lies. Perhaps Ishall see a village in the distance, or a shepherd's hut, and if so I'llgo straight on and give myself into the hands of the inhabitants. It'llbe risky, I know, but I must just chance it."
Trudging onward through the sand, which often rose above his ankles, heat length reached the summit of a low range of dunes which the wind,during centuries of ceaseless energy, had blown into position.
"Ah!" No wonder the colonel gave vent to an exclamation of astonishment,for when he reached the top he saw immediately before him a native camp.It was composed of numerous shelters of coarse linen or tatteredcamel-hide, which were dotted about the sand in regular order. Fartheroff were herds of sheep and goats and of camels, browsing upon the grasswhich here cropped out in every direction. There were also many horses,and natives were standing about, watching the animals as they fed. Butwhat attracted his attention most and filled him with a feeling ofdismay, was the sight of some thirty or forty armed men who sat onhorseback in the midst of the camp. They were wild-looking natives,swarthy of feature, tall, and not ungainly, and clad from head to footin flowing robes of white. Some were armed with guns, while a fewcarried long spears and shields, which they waved frantically abovetheir heads. Then, at a shout from one of them who had suddenly caughtsight of the colonel, they set their horses in motion, and camegalloping at a headlong pace towards him. In a few moments he wassurrounded, and very soon he was bound hand and foot, a prisoner ofthese fierce warriors of Somaliland.
Two hours later the camp was struck, and the natives began to marchinto the interior, driving their herds before them. The colonel's legswere freed, and he was ordered by signs to rise and follow his captors.To attempt to disobey was useless, and therefore, with downcast head andspirits at the lowest, he trudged onward beside the horsemen, a nativewith particularly brutal countenance riding close behind him. Thecolonel noted at a glance the long double-handed sword with which thisruffian was armed, and straightway he banished from his mind allthoughts of resistance or escape. For a week the caravan pushed onward,accomplishing, however, only short marches each day, for the pace was,of course, regulated by that of the herds which accompanied them. On theseventh day they reached their home, which consisted of a collection ofmud hovels, and thereafter settled down to enjoy the loot which they hadtaken from the tribes inhabiting the coast. Colonel Hubbard was handedover to the wife of the Sheik, as the headman of the tribe was known,and at once became hewer of wood and drawer of water, a hateful andlaborious employment for a man who had fought so well for his country,and who had commanded one of His Majesty's smart regiments.
Of the passengers and crew of the ill-fated ship which had come to griefin the Gulf of Aden not another soul escaped. The colonel, who was thuscarried off into captivity, was the only survivor.
* * * * *
"Come in, my lad," said the head master of a large school situated inthe Midlands, turning in his chair, as a knock sounded on his door. "Ah,come in and sit down there, Hubbard. I'm grieved, my boy, terriblygrieved at this sad news. If only we knew for certain what had happened,it would make this trouble easier to bear; but the doubt, the hope thatone dare not indulge in, is most trying. But you've come to see me. Haveyou any more news?"
As he spoke he sprang to his feet and crossed the floor to meet theyouth, who was no other than the son of the officer whose fortune wehave been following. Like his father, the lad was tall, and by no meansdevoid of good looks. His features, indeed, had a close resemblance tothe colonel's. There was the same square chin, the same open, steadylook, and a similar air of resolution.
"News, sir," responded James Hubbard, eagerly, declining the profferedchair in his excitement, "yes, I have; look at that!"
Thrusting his hand into his pocket, he produced a yellow envelope, andoffered it to his master with trembling fingers.
"Good news, sir," he cried; "here is a telegram from my uncle whichgives me more hope. After all, father may not have gone down with theship. He may have been washed ashore. He may have had the good fortuneto secure a life-belt, which would have kept him afloat. Why should thisnews not refer to him?"
Snatching the telegram from him with equal eagerness, the head masterdragged the paper from the envelope and scanned the contents.
"More news to hand," ran the telegram. "A native arrived last week atAden, having come from the Somali coast, and reports that, on themorning following the night upon which the station at Perim sighted asteamer passing east, a white man was cast upon the coast fifty mileseast of Berbera. He was at once pounced upon by a marauding band ofSomali warriors, despatched to the coast by the Mullah for the purposeof obtaining loot and prisoners. This is the only news, except thatpieces of wreckage have been washed up close to Aden, while ahomeward-bound steamer picked up a portion of a stern rail bearing thename of the ill-fated vessel."
"Hum, it is certainly news," said the head master, doubtfully. "Thistelegram proves beyond doubt that the ship upon which your father sailedmet with a catastrophe. But, my dear lad, anxious as I am to give youhope, I feel bound to tell you that you must not jump to conclusions.This man who was cast upon the coast, and who fell into the hands ofthat fanatic known as the Mullah, may have been a stoker, a greaser, oran able seaman aboard the ship. I do not wish to discourage you, ofcourse. God knows, if it were only possible, and certain news had beenreceived that it was your father and no one else who reached the shore,I would rejoice with you, and do my utmost to aid you in obtainingfurther information. But it is hopeless. Whoever it was who livedthrough that night and safely reached the African shore, would have beenfar happier, far more fortunate, had he perished like the rest."
The head master paused for a few moments, and stood looking at the youngfellow before him. There was no doubt that he was full of sympathy forhis loss, and anxious to help him. But what could he do? To advise thelad to hope on would have been cruel in the circumstances. Better, farbetter, to put the facts plainly before him, even though in doing so heshould cause him bitter grief. Yes, that was the best course to pursue,for to hold out the hope that his father still lived, simply upon thestrength of this news just received, would have been madness--indeed,the greatest unkindness possible. Why, the man who fell into the handsof the Mullah was more surely dead than all those others who had sunk tothe depths of the ocean.
"Don't think, my lad, that I am lacking in sympathy," he went on, takinga pace forward, and placing his hand encouragingly on Jim's shoulder. "Iwish to help you to bear this trouble, and I feel that, when I tell youto extinguish all hope, I am giving you the best and the mostconsiderate advice. There, tell me that you will take it in this way.Try to absorb yourself in work, and so forget your loss. Do not let thishideous uncertainty prey upon your mind, but banish it, for that is farthe best course to pursue."
He pressed his hand more firmly upon Jim's shoulder, and lookedearnestly into his face, as if to help him in coming to a decision. Butthe young fellow scarcely seemed to be aware of his presence. His eyeswere fixed upon some distant object visible through the window, and histhoughts were evidently still farther away. His head was bowed upon hisbreast, and he looked for the moment as though this trouble, which hadcome upon him at such an early age, was crushing him. But suddenly hiseye brightened, and a more cheerful expression overspread his face. Hestraightened himself, and, raising his head, looked steadily at hismaster.
"Thank you, sir," he said. "I know how kind you are, and that inspeaking to me in this way, and in giving me the benefit of yourexperience and of your advice, you have acted with the sole purpose ofassisting me. But I cannot believe that my father is dead; I cannot,indeed. Something tells me that he has survived the wreck, and that thiswhite man referred to in the telegram is none other than he. Until Iprove this or the contrary, I can never rest, and never settle to mywork. I am thankful now that my mother is not alive to feel this grief.I am an only child, and my father is my best and kindest friend. Icannot, and will not, forsake him. I don't know now how I shall act, butI feel that if the necessity arises, as, indeed, it must, I willwillingly make my way into the heart of Somaliland, into the midst ofthe Mullah's bands, and there clear up this doubt. If I find that it wasnot he who
was washed ashore and captured by the natives, then I shallbe far easier in my mind, and besides, sir, I might have the goodfortune at the same time to bring help to this poor captive. If he wereonly a stoker, it would be sufficient reward to have rescued him fromsuch an horrible fate."
"But your examination, my lad. Will you permit yourself to miss italtogether?" exclaimed the head master. "Think what it means to you. Youhave now been reading hard for a year, and in two months, if only youare successful, as I fully believe you will be, you will have won acommission in the Army, and will be on the high-road to success, tofollow in the footsteps of your worthy father."
"I will give it up, sir," replied Jim, emphatically. "Everything must beput aside for the sake of my father. I would rather lose thiscommission, and spend the remainder of my days upon an office-stool,than leave this doubt unsettled. It haunts me, and though I know howhopeless the matter is, I will go through with it till I am sure of myfather's fate. But, in spite of everything, I feel that he still lives,and, perhaps, is even now wondering whether his son will take up hiscause and set out for the purpose of rescuing him. There, sir, forgiveme for saying that my mind is firmly made up, and that I must actcontrary to your advice. In any other matter I would, as you know, haveinstantly fallen in with your wishes. But here it is different, for myfather's life may be at stake, and both his happiness and mine dependupon my exertions. Therefore, I ask you to let me leave at once and goto my uncle. I will talk the matter over with him, and I feel sure thathe will help me in every way."
Involuntarily Jim's hand left the pocket in which it had been reposing,and went out to meet his master's. And there together they stood for thespace of a minute exchanging a firm and cordial clasp.
"You are a credit to me!" exclaimed the head master, enthusiastically."A credit, I say, and your comrades here will be even prouder of youthan I am. I have put the position plainly before you. And, withoutwishing to discourage you, have endeavoured to point out how hopeless itis. You must know as well as I do what dangers and difficulties willhave to be faced in this undertaking, for your father and the many booksyou have read will have given you some idea of life in Africa. Knowingall this, and with a full knowledge that if you persevere in your searchyou must undergo privation and exposure, and may even lose your life,you tell me that you will sail for that country; that you have firmlymade up your mind to go through with it all for the sake of your father?Then leave us, my lad, and may Heaven help you, for you are a braveyoung fellow, and deserve the utmost success. There, go to your room andpack your boxes. A cab will be at the door in half an hour; that willenable you to catch the next train for London. There, leave me now. Iwish to think over the matter quietly before I say farewell."
Once more the two shook hands in silence, and then, turning about, Jimwent hurriedly from the room, and hastened to prepare for his journey.An hour later he was in the train, and that evening had arrived at hisdestination, leaving his friends at the school to mourn the loss of asfine and good-hearted a young fellow as had ever entered its portals.
In the grip of the Mullah: A tale of adventure in Somaliland Page 1
