[Frontispiece: "CLUTCHED THE LIONESS JUST BELOW THE JAWS, HOLDING HER IN A VICE-LIKE GRIP. "]

WILMSHURST OF THE FRONTIER FORCE

BY

PERCY F. WESTERMAN

 AUTHOR OF "BILLY BARCROFT, R. N. A. S, " "A SUB. OF THE R. N. R, " ETC. , ETC. 

Publishers

PARTRIDGE

London

1918

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I. ON ACTIVE SERVICE II. CHAOS IN THE CABIN III. THE RAIDER IV. SPOFFORTH, MACGREGOR AND THE LIONESS V. HOW THE KOPJE WAS STORMED VI. THE WARNING SHOT VII. A TRUE MAN OR A TRAITOR VIII. ULRICH VON GOBENDORFF IX. THE FIGHT FOR THE SEAPLANE X. PREPARATIONS XI. THE SNIPER XII. THE STORMING OF M'GANGA XIII. THE FUGITIVE XIV. ON THE TRACK XV. RESCUED XVI. 'GAINST HEAVY ODDS XVII. WATER XVIII. IN THE ENEMY'S POSITIONS XIX. CORNERED AT LAST XX. QUITS

WILMSHURST OF THE FRONTIER FORCE

CHAPTER I

ON ACTIVE SERVICE

"Four o'clock mornin', sah; bugle him go for revally. "

Dudley Wilmshurst, Second Lieutenant of the Nth West African Regiment, threw off the light coverings, pulled aside the mosquito curtains, andsat upon the edge of his cot, hardly able to realise that Tari Barl, his Haussa servant, had announced the momentous news. Doubtful whetherhis senses were not playing him false Wilmshurst glanced round theroom. On a metal table, the legs of which stood in metal jars filledwith water and paraffin to counteract the ravages of the white ants, lay his field-equipment--a neatly-rolled green canvas valise with hisname and regiment stamped in bold block letters; his Sam Browne beltwith automatic pistol holster attached; his sword--a mere token ofauthority but otherwise little better than a useless encumbrance--and apair of binoculars in a leather case that bore signs of the excessivedampness of the climate on The Coast, as the littoral of the Africanshore 'twixt the Niger and the Senegal Rivers is invariably referred toby the case-hardened white men who have fought against the pestilentialclimate and won. 

A short distance from the oil stove on which a kettle was boiling, thanks to the energy and thoughtfulness of Private Tari Barl, stood anassortment of camp equipment: canvas _tent d'abri_, ground sheets, aluminium mess traps, a folding canvas bath, and last but not least anindispensable Doulton pump filter. 

When a man's head is buzzing from the effects of strong doses ofquinine, and his limbs feel limp and almost devoid of strength, it isnot to be wondered at that he is decidedly "off colour. " It was onlyWilmshurst's indomitable will that had pulled him through a bout ofmalaria in time to be passed fit for active service with the "Waffs, "as the West African Field Force is commonly known from the initialletters of the official designation. 

And here was Tari Barl--"Tarry Barrel, " his master invariably dubbedhim--smiling all over his ebony features as he stood, clad in activeservice kit and holding a cup of fragrant tea. 

Tari Barl was a typical specimen of the West African native from whomthe ranks of the Coast regiments are recruited. In height about fivefeet ten, he was well built from his thighs upwards. Even hisloosely-fitting khaki tunic did not conceal the massive chest with itssupple muscles and the long, sinewy arms that knew how to swing to therhythm of bayonet exercise. His legs, however, were thin and spindly. To any one not accustomed to the native build it would seem strangethat the apparently puny lower limbs could support such a heavy frame. He was wearing khaki shorts and puttees; even the latter, tightlyfitting, did little to disguise the meagreness of his calves. He wasbarefooted, for the West African soldier has a rooted dislike to boots, although issued as part of his equipment. On ceremonial parades hewill wear them, outwardly uncomplainingly, but at the first opportunityhe will discard them, slinging the unnecessary footgear round his neck. Thorns, that in the "bush" will rip the best pair of British-mademarching-boots to shreds in a very short time, trouble him hardly atall, for the soles of his feet, which with the palms of his hands arethe only white parts of his epidermis, are as hard as iron. 

"All my kit ready, Tarry Barrel?" enquired Wilmshurst as he sipped histea. 

"All ready, sah; Sergeant Bela Moshi him lib for tell fatigue partymighty quick. No need worry, sah. "

Dismissing his servant the subaltern "tubbed" and dressed. They startthe day early on the Coast, getting through most of the routine beforenine, since the intense heat of the tropical sun makes strenuousexertion not only unpleasant but highly dangerous. 

But to-day was of a different order. The regiment was to embark ateight o'clock on board the transport _Zungeru_ for active service inthe vast stretch of country known as "German East, " where the Huns withtheir well-trained Askaris, or native levies, were putting up a stiffresistance against the Imperial and Colonial troops of the BritishEmpire. 

On his way to the mess Wilmshurst ran up against Barkley, the P. M. O. Ofthe garrison. 

"Hullo there!" exclaimed the doctor. "How goes it? Fit?"

"Absolutely, " replied the subaltern. 

The doctor smiled and shrugged his shoulders. He knew perfectly wellthat no officer warned for active service would reply otherwise. 

"Buzzing all gone?"

"Practically, " replied Wilmshurst. 

"All right; stick to five grains of quinine during the whole of thevoyage--and don't be afraid to let me know if you aren't up to themark. Suppose you've heard nothing further of your brother?"

Wilmshurst shook his head. 

"Not since the letter written just before the war, and that took nearlytwelve months before it reached me. It's just possible that Rupert isin the thick of it with the Rhodesian crush. "

Barkley made no comment. He was an old college chum of RupertWilmshurst, who was fifteen years older than his brother Dudley. Theelder Wilmshurst was a proverbial rolling stone. Almost as soon as heleft Oxford he went abroad and, after long wanderings in the interiorof China, Siberia, and Manchuria, where his adventures merelystimulated the craving for wandering on the desolate parts of theearth, he went to the Cape, working his way up country until he made atemporary settlement on the northern Rhodesian shores of LakeTanganyika. 

It was thence that he wrote to his brother Dudley, who had just takenup a Crown appointment on the Coast, mentioning that he had penetratedinto the territory known as German East. 

The subaltern remembered the letter almost by heart. 

"There'll be trouble out here before very long, " wrote Rupert. "Britishers settling down in this part almost invariably roll acricket-pitch or lay out a football field. With Hans it is verydifferent. The Germans' idea of colonization is to start building up amilitary organization. Every 'post' in which there are German settlershas its company of armed blacks--Askaris they call them. And as forammunition, they are laying in stores sufficient to wage a two-years'war; not merely small arms ammunition, but quick-firer shells as well. Quite by accident I found kegs of cartridges buried close to my camp. For what reason? The natives are quiet enough, so the ammunition isnot for use against them. I am sending this letter by a trusty nativeto be posted at Pambete, as it would be unwise to make use of theGerman colonial post. Meanwhile I am penetrating further into thisstretch of territory under the Black Cross Ensign--possibly in thedirection of Tabora. My researches may be taken seriously by theForeign Office, but I have my doubts. Fortunately I have a jolly goodpal with me, a Scotsman named Macgregor, whom I met at Jo-burg. Don'tbe anxious if you don't hear from me for some time. "

The letter was dated July, 1914, and three years, Dudley reflected, isa very exaggerated interpretation of the term "some time. " Even takinginto consideration the lack of efficient internal and externalcommunication, the state of war embroiling practically the wholecivilized world and the perils to which shipping was subjected owing tothe piratical exploits of the Huns--all these facts would hardly offersufficient explanation for a total absence of news from RupertWilmshurst unless----

There are parts of Africa which are still described as the DarkContinent--wild, desolate stretches where a man can disappear withoutleaving the faintest trace of the manner of his presumed death, whilein German East there were unscrupulous despots--the disciples ofatrocious kultur--only too ready to condemn an Englishman without eventhe farcical formality of a court-martial. 

Already events had proved that Rupert Wilmshurst's statement waswell-founded. In her African colonies, in Kiau-Chau, and elsewhere foryears past Germany had been assiduously preparing for The Day. Underthe firm but erroneous impression that Great Britain would have herhands full in connection with affairs at home, that the Boers in SouthAfrica would revolt and that the Empire would fall to pieces at thedeclaration of war between England and Germany, the Hun in Africa hadprepared huge stores of munitions and trained thousands of nativetroops with the intention of wresting the adjoining ill-defendedterritories from their owners. 

No wonder that the Huns hugged themselves with delight when by adisastrous stroke of statesmanship Great Britain exchanged thecrumbling island of Heligoland for some millions of square miles ofundeveloped territory hitherto held by Germany. While Heligoland wasbeing protected by massive concrete walls and armed by huge guns toform a practically impregnable bulwark to the North Sea coast ofGermany, England was by peaceful methods developing her new Africanacquisition. Germany could then afford to wait until the favourableopportunity and by force of arms seize and hold the territory that wasonce hers and which in the meantime had enormously increasedcommercially at the expense of Britain. 

But the Kaiser had miscalculated the loyalty of the colonies. Canada, South Africa, Australia, and New Zealand, to say nothing of smalleroffshoots of the Empire, had rallied to the flag. Boers who fourteenyears previously had fought doggedly and determinedly against Englandvolunteered for service, and their offer was accepted for expeditionsagainst German West Africa and then against German East, while shoulderto shoulder with their late enemies were Imperial troops, includingIndian and West African contingents. Amongst the reinforcements fromthe latter was the Nth West African Regiment. 

By six o'clock breakfast was over and the troops were falling in forparade and C. O. 's inspection. As Second Lieutenant Wilmshurst crossedthe dusty barrack "square, " which was a rectangle enclosed on threesides by the native huts and on the fourth by the Quartermaster's"stores" and orderly room, he found that the men of his platoon werealready drawn up in full marching order. At the sight of their youngofficer--for it was the first time for several weeks that Wilmshursthad appeared on parade--a streak of dazzling ivory started andstretched from end to end of the line as the Haussas' mouths openedwide in welcoming smiles, displaying a lavish array of teeth thatcontrasted vividly with their ebony features. 

That Wilmshurst was popular with his men there could be no doubt. Hadit been otherwise not a suspicion of a smile would have appeared upontheir faces. The subaltern had the knack of handling African troops, and without that knack an officer might just as well transferelsewhere. Firmness, strict impartiality, and consideration for thewelfare of the men under his orders had been rewarded by awhole-hearted devotion on the part of the blacks to "Massa Wilmst, "while every man had the satisfaction that he was known by name to thejunior subaltern. 

The company officer had not yet put in an appearance, but the platooncommanders and their subordinates were engaged either in discussingimpending plans or else minutely examining their men's equipment, lestthe eagle eye of the C. O. Should detect some deficiency during theforthcoming inspection. 

"All correct, sergeant?" enquired Wilmshurst, addressing a tall Haussa, Bela Moshi by name. 

The sergeant saluted smartly, replying, with a broad smile, thateverything was in order. A child by nature, Bela Moshi had developedinto a smart and efficient soldier without losing the simplecharacteristics of the African native. He was a first-class marksman, although it had required long and patient training to get him tounderstand the use of sights and verniers and to eradicate the belief, everywhere prevalent amongst savage races, that to raise the backsightto its highest elevation results in harder hitting by the bullet. 

Bela Moshi was smart with the machine-gun, too, while for scouting andtracking work there were few who equalled him. The regiment was fatherand mother to the ebon warrior, while of all the officers Wilmshurstwas his special favourite. 

The subaltern realised it but could give no reason for Bela Moshi'spreferential treatment; not that Wilmshurst had gone out of his way tofavour the man. He treated the rank and file of his platoon withimpartial fairness, ever ready to hear complaints, but woe betide theblack who tried to "get to windward" of the young officer. 

Upon the approach of the C. O. The ranks stiffened. The display ofivory vanished, and with thick, pouting lips, firmly closed, and eyesfixed rigidly in front the men awaited the minute inspection. 

Colonel Quarrier was a man who had grown grey in the service of theCrown. For over thirty years he had held a commission in the Nth WestAfrica Regiment, rising from a fresh young Second Lieutenant to therank of Colonel Commandant and ruler of the destinies of nearly athousand men. "Case hardened" to the attacks of mosquitos, his systemovercharged with malarial germs until the scourge of the Coast failedto harm him, Colonel Quarrier possessed one of the principalqualifications for bush-fighting in the Tropics--a "salted"constitution. 

Already he had served in four African campaigns, having but recentlytaken part in the comparatively brief but strenuous Kamarun expedition. He was a past-master in the art of fighting in miasmic jungles, and nowhe was about to engage in operations on a larger and slightly differentscale--bush-fighting in German East, where ranges of temperature areexperienced from the icy cold air of the upper ground of Kilimanjaro tothe sweltering heat of the low-lying land but a few degrees south ofthe Line. 

The parade over a hoarse order rang out. A drum and bugle bandbelonging to another regiment struck up a lively air and the black andkhaki lines swung about into "column of route. "

The "Waffs" were off to the conquest of the last of Germany'sultra-European colonies. 

CHAPTER II

CHAOS IN THE CABIN

It was a march of about five miles to the beach along a straight roadbordered with palm trees. At some distance from the highway thecountry was thick with scrub, from which the sickly smell of themangroves rose in the still slanting rays of the sun. 

Most of the heavy baggage had already been sent down, but with thetroops were hundreds of native carriers, each bearing a load of aboutsixty pounds, while crowds of native women and children flocked to seethe last of the regiment for some time to come. 

The embarkation had to be performed by means of boats from the openbeach, against which white rollers surged heavily, the thundering ofthe surf being audible for miles. At a long distance from the shore, so that she appeared little larger than a boat, lay the transport_Zungeru_, rolling sluggishly at a single anchor, while steaming slowlyin the offing was a light cruiser detailed to act as escort to theconvoy, for more transports were under orders to rendezvous off CapeCoast Castle. 

Amidst the loud and discordant vociferations of the native boatmen thetroops boarded the broad, shallow-drafted surf boats, each man havingthe breech-mechanism of his rifle carefully wrapped in oiled canvas toprevent injury from salt water. In batches of twenty the Waffs lefttheir native soil, but not before three boat loads had beenunceremoniously capsized in the surf, to the consternation of the menaffected and the light-hearted merriment of their more fortunatecomrades. 

Without mishap Wilmshurst gained the accommodation-ladder of the_Zungeru_, where brawny British mercantile seamen, perspiring freely inthe torrid heat, were energetically assisting their black passengers onboard with encouraging shouts of "Up with you, Sambo!" "Mind your nut, Darkie!" and similar exhortations. The while derricks were swaying inand out, whipping the baggage from the holds of the lighters that layalongside, grinding heavily in the swell, fenders notwithstanding. 

Having seen the men of his platoon safely on board Wilmshurst wentbelow to the two-berthed cabin which he was to share with Laxdale, thesubaltern of No. 2 platoon. 

Opening the door Wilmshurst promptly ducked his head to avoid asweeping blow with a knotted towel which his brother officer waswielding desperately and frantically. 

"Hullo!" exclaimed Laxdale breathlessly. "Come in and bear a hand. Hope I didn't flick you. "

"What's wrong?" enquired Dudley, eyeing with feelings of apprehensionthe sight of the disordered cabin. "Looks as if a Hun four-point-onehad been at work here. "

The "traps" of both subalterns were littering the floor in utmostconfusion. Sheets, blankets and mosquito nets had been torn from thebunks, while a smashed water-bottle and glass bore testimony to theerratic onslaught of the wildly excited Laxdale. 

"Almost wish it had, " exclaimed the harassed subaltern. "I wasunpacking my kit when a whopping big rat jumped out of this valise. I'll swear that rascal of a servant of mine knows all about it. I hadto give him a dressing down yesterday for losing some of my gear. We'll have to find the animal, Wilmshurst. A rat is my petabomination. "

"Why not leave the door open?" suggested Dudley. 

"An' let the bounder go scot-free?" added Laxdale, a gleam of grimdetermination in his eyes. "No jolly fear. We'll lay him outproperly. Here you are, take this. "

He handed Wilmshurst a towel roller made of teak, forming a heavy andeffective weapon. 

"This is where I think the brute's hiding, " continued Laxdale, indicating a long drawer under the lowermost bunk. "I was stowing someof my gear away when I spotted him. After five minutes' strafing hedisappeared, but goodness knows how he managed to get through thatlittle slit. Now stand by. "

Entering into the spirit of the chase Dudley knelt down and waited withpoised stick while Laxdale charily opened the drawer. Like mostdrawers on board ship and frequently elsewhere it jammed. By franticup and down movements the subaltern freed it. Then he waited, bothofficers listening intently. Not a sound came from within. 

"Don't suppose the brute's there after all. He must have effected astrategic movement. .. . Look out, by Jove!"

Acting upon his impression Laxdale had tugged the drawer half open. Instantly there was a vision of a dark object darting withlightning-like rapidity. 

Down came Wilmshurst's towel roller a fraction of a second too late forMister Rat. At the same time Laxdale moved his hands along the ledgeof the drawer and received the full force of the blow across theknuckles. 

"Sorry!" exclaimed Wilmshurst. 

Laxdale, nursing the injured hand, made no audible comment. Deliberately he relieved Dudley of the towel-roller, throwing hiscompanion the knotted towel in exchange. 

"Where's the brute now?" he asked grimly. 

A scuffling noise in a tin bath suspended from the cork-cemented roofof the cabin betrayed the rodent's temporary hiding-place. Both menlooked first at the bath and then at each other. 

"It would be as well if we put our helmets on, " suggested Wilmshurst, replacing his "double-pith" headgear. "Now, I'll shake the bath andyou let rip when he falls. But please don't try to get your own backon me. "

As a precautionary measure Dudley beat the side of the bath with thetowel. It might have been efficacious if the subaltern had beenengaging in apiarian operations, but as far as present events went itwas a "frost. "

"Tilt it, old man, " suggested Laxdale. 

Wilmshurst carried out this suggestion only too well. The bath, slipping from its supporting fixtures, clattered noisily to the floor, its edge descending heavily upon Dudley's foot. Again a momentaryvision of the leaping rodent, then, crash! With a mighty sweep of thetower-roller Laxdale demolished the electric-light globe into athousand fragments. 

"Getting on, " he remarked cheerfully. "There'll be a big bill for'barrack damages' eh, what? Where's the brute?"

The rat, terrified by the din, had retired to a recess formed by thebulkhead of the cabin and the fixed wash-basin and was acting strictlyon the defensive. 

"Aha!" exclaimed Laxdale. "Now you're cornered. No use yelling'Mercy, kamerad. '"

Levelling the roller like a billiard cue the subaltern prepared to makea thrust and administer the _coup de grâce_, but he had forgotten thathe had not yet found his sea-legs. A roll of the ship made him losehis balance, and he pitched head foremost into the rodent's retreat. Like a flash the rat leapt, scampered over Laxdale's helmet, down hisback and took refuge in the breast-pocket of Wilmshurst's tunic. 

Dudley beat all records in slipping off his Sam Browne and discardingthe tunic, for by the time his companion had regained his feet thegarment lay on the floor. 

"Stamp on it!" yelled the now thoroughly excited and exasperatedsubaltern. 

"It's my tunic, remember, " protested Dudley firmly as he pushed hisbrother-officer aside. 

Just then the door opened, and Spofforth, another member of the "LoneStar Crush" appeared, enquiring, "What's all the row about, youfellows? Scrapping?"

"Shut that door!" exclaimed Laxdale hurriedly. "Either in or out, oldman. "

The hunters suspended operations to wipe the streams of perspirationfrom their faces and to explain matters. 

"Ratting, eh?" queried Spofforth. "You fellows look like a pair ofLittle Willies looting a French chateau. "

"Hullo! More of 'em, " murmured Laxdale as the door was unceremoniouslypushed open and another of the "One Pip" officers made his appearance. "Look alive, Danvers, and don't stand there looking in the air. Walkin and take a pew, if you can find one. "

"I've come to borrow a glass, " remarked the latest arrival. "Mine'ssmashed and my batman hasn't unpacked my aluminium traps. Judging byappearances, by Jove! I've drawn a blank. What's up--a toppin' rag, or have the water pipes burst?"

Wilmshurst and Laxdale sat on the upper bunk, Spofforth on the closedlid of the wash-basin stand, and Danvers found a temporaryresting-place on the none too rigid top of a cabin trunk. Each mankept his feet carefully clear of the floor, while four pairs of eyeswere fixed upon Dudley's tunic, the folds of which were pulsating underthe violent lung-movements of the sheltering rodent. 

"Why not shake the brute out?" suggested Danvers. 

"You try it, " suggested Laxdale, whose enthusiasm was decidedly on thewane. "Wilmshurst here has turned mouldy. He refuses point blank tolet me use his raiment of neutral colour as a door-mat. I might addthat if you've ever had the experience of a particularly active memberof the rodent family scampering down your back you wouldn't be quite sokeen. "

"How about turning out the machine-gun section?" asked Spofforth. "Look here, if you fellows want to be ready for tiffen you'd better geta move on. Suppose----"

"Still they come!" exclaimed Laxdale, as a knock sounded on thejalousie of the cabin door. "Come in. "

It was Tari Barl in search of his master. 

"Tarry Barrel, you old sinner, " said Wilmshurst, "can you catch a rat?"

"Me lib for find Mutton Chop, sah, " replied the Haussa saluting. "Findhim one time and come quick. "

Dudley looked enquiringly at his cabin-mate, knowing that Mutton Chopwas Laxdale's servant. 

"Oh, so that rascal's the culprit, " declared Laxdale. "Didn't I say Ithought so?"

"Bring Mutton Chop here, " ordered Wilmshurst, addressing the broadlysmiling Tari Barl. 

The Haussa vanished, presently to reappear with almost an exactcounterpart of himself. It would be a difficult matter for a strangerto tell the difference between the two natives. 

"What d'ye mean, you black scoundrel, by putting a rat into my traps?"demanded Laxdale. 

"No did put, sah; him lib for come one time, " expostulated Laxdale'sservant. "Me play, 'Come to cook-house door, ' den him catchee. "

Producing a small native flute Mutton Chop began to play a soft air. For perhaps thirty seconds every one and everything else was still inthe desolated cabin; then slowly but without any signs of furtivenessthe rat pushed his head between the folds of Wilmshurst's tunic, sniffed, and finally emerged, sat up on his hind legs, his longwhiskers quivering with evident delight. 

Then, with a deft movement, Mutton Chop's fingers closed gently roundthe little animal, and to the astonishment of the four officers theHaussa placed the rodent in his breast pocket. 

"Me hab mascot same as officers, sahs!" he explained. "No put himhere, sah; me make tidy. "

"And there's the officers' call!" exclaimed Dudley as a bugle rang out. "Dash it all, how's a fellow to put on the thing?"

And he indicated the crumpled tunic. 

CHAPTER III

THE RAIDER

Accompanied by five other transports and escorted by the light cruiser_Tompion_, the _Zungeru_ ploughed her way at a modest fifteen knotsthrough the tropical waters of the Atlantic. Although there was littleto fear from the attacks of U-boats, for up to the present these crafthad not appeared south of the Equator, mines had been laid by disguisedGerman ships right in the area where numerous trade routes converge inthe neighbourhood of the Cape of Good Hope, while there were rumours, hitherto unconfirmed, that an armed raider was at large in the SouthAtlantic. 

Provided the convoy kept together there was little danger in daytime inthat direction, but the possibilities of the raider making a suddendash during the hours of darkness and using gun and torpedo withdisastrous results could not be overlooked. 

The issue of lifebelts to the native troops puzzled them greatly. Theycould not understand the precaution, for they were ignorant of thedanger of making voyages in war-time. Their faith in the "big canoes"of King George was so firm that, sea-sickness notwithstanding, they hadno doubts or fears concerning their safe arrival in the land whereBriton, Boer, Indian and African were doing their level best to stampout the blight of German kultur. 

At four bells (2 a. M. ) on the fifth day of the voyage Wilmshurst wasroused from his sleep by a commotion on deck. Men were running hitherand thither carrying out a series of orders shouted in stentoriantones. The _Zungeru_ was altering course without slackening speed, listing noticeably to starboard as the helm was put hard over. 

Almost at the same time Laxdale awoke. 

"What's up?" he enquired drowsily. 

"I don't know, " replied his companion. "I can hear Spofforth andDanvers going on deck. Let's see what's doing. "

Acting upon this suggestion the two officers hastily donned their greatcoats over their pyjamas, slipped their feet into their canvas slicesand went on deck. 

It was a calm night. The crescent moon was low down in the westernsky, but its brilliance was sufficient to enable objects to be seendistinctly. Silhouetted against the slanting beams was the escortingcruiser, which was pelting along at full speed and overhauling the_Zungeru_ hand over fist. Although the cruiser and her convoy werewithout steaming lights the former's yard-arm lamp was blinking out amessage in Morse. 

The transports were in "double column line ahead, " steaming due westinstead of following the course that would bring them within sight ofTable Bay. Less than a cable's length on the starboard column's beamwas the cruiser. She had already overtaken two of the transports, andwas now lapping the _Zungeru's_ quarter. 

The object of this nocturnal display of activity was now apparent. Less than a mile away was a large steamer, which had just steadied onher helm and was now on a parallel course to that of the convoy. 

"Anything startling?" enquired a major of one of the _Zungeru's_officers who was passing. 

"Oh, no, " was the reply. "A tramp was trying to cut across our bows. The _Tompion_ has signalled to know what's her little game. She's justreplied that she's the steamship _Ponto_, and wants to know whetherthere have been any signs of a supposed raider. "

The ship's officer continued on his way. The two subalterns, in nohurry to return to their bunks, for the night air was warm andfragrant, remained on deck, watching the manoeuvres of the cruiser andthe _Ponto_. 

The exchange of signals continued for about ten minutes, then the_Tompion_ resumed her station at the head of the convoy, while the_Ponto_ took up her position on the beam of the starboard line. Presently in obedience to a signal the ships altered helm and settleddown on their former course, the large steamer following suit, althoughdropping steadily astern, for her speed was considerably less than thatof the transports. 

Presently the ship's officer returned. As he passed Wilmshurst stoppedhim, enquiring whether anything had developed. 

"The _Ponto_ has cold feet, " explained the _Zungeru's_ officer. "HerOld Man seems to be under the impression that there is a Hun scuttlingaround, so he's signalled for permission to tail on to us. The cruiseroffered no objection, provided the speed of the convoy is unaffected, so by daylight the tramp will be hull-down, I expect. "

"Much ado about nothing, " remarked Laxdale. "I say, old man, let'sturn in again. What's the matter with you?"

He grasped Wilmshurst by the arm. The subaltern, apparently heedlessof the touch, was gazing fixedly at the tramp. The mercantile officerand Laxdale both followed the direction of his look, the former givingvent to a low whistle. 

From above the gunwale of a boat stowed amidships on the _Ponto_ afeeble light glimmered. 

"Help--German raider, " it signalled. 

"You read it?" enquired the sailor hurriedly, as if to confirm theevidence of his own eyes. 

"Yes, " replied Wilmshurst, and repeated the signal. 

Without another word the _Zungeru's_ officer turned and raced to thebridge. In a few moments the signal was passed on to the _Tompion_ bymeans of a flashlamp, the rays of which were invisible save from thedirection of the receiver. 

"Very good, " was the cruiser's reply. "Carry on. "

A little later the general order was flashed in to the convoy. "Increase speed to seventeen knots. "

The instructions were promptly carried out as far as the transportswere concerned, but from the _Ponto_ came a signal: "Am doing mymaximum speed. Must drop astern if speed of convoy is not reduced. "

"The blighter has got hold of the code all right, " remarked Laxdale. "We'll wait and see the fun. Wonder why we are whacking up speed?"

"The cruiser wants to get the transports out of harm's way, I shouldimagine, " replied Wilmshurst. "By Jove, it's rummy how news spreads. The whole mess is coming on deck. "

The arrival of the colonel and almost all the other officers in various"fancy rig" proved the truth of Dudley's remark. Armed with fieldglasses, marine-glasses, and telescopes the officers gathered aft, dividing their attention between the labouring _Ponto_ and thegreyhound _Tompion_. 

In about an hour the tramp had dropped astern to the distance of alittle over five miles, but was still maintaining a course parallel tothat of the convoy, while the escorting cruiser was still zig-zaggingacross the bows of the leading transports. 

Presently the _Tompion_ turned sharply to starboard, steering westwardfor quite two miles before she shaped a course exactly opposite to thatof the convoy, signalling the while to the _Ponto_, asking various, almost commonplace questions regarding her speed and coal-consumption. 

It was merely a ruse to lull suspicion. With every gun manned andtorpedoes launched home the cruiser flung about until she was bows onto the stern of the tramp. Then came the decided mandate: "Heave-toand send a boat. "

Unable to bring more than three guns to bear astern the Hun raider--forsuch the so-called _Ponto_ was--ported helm, her speed increasingrapidly. Almost at the same time a six-inch gun sent a shellperilously close to the weather side of the cruiser's fore-bridge. 

Before the raider could fire a second time three shells struck herclose to the stern-post, literally pulverising the whole of the poop. The after six-inch gun, which had been concealed under a dummydeck-house, was blown from its mountings, the heavy weapon crashingthrough the shattered decks to the accompaniment of a shower ofsplinters and a dense pall of flame-tinged smoke. 

It was more than the Huns bargained for. Knowing that the Britishcruiser was already aware of the presence of a number of prisoners onboard the raider counted on the _Tompion_ withholding her fire. The_Ponto_ would then "crack on speed, " for in spite of her allegedmaximum of eleven knots she was capable of working up to twenty-eight, or a knot more than the speed of the cruiser under forced draught. These hopes were nipped in the bud by the _Tompion_ blowing away the_Ponto's_ stern and putting both propellers out of action. 

Of subsequent events immediately following the brief action Wilmshurstand his brother officers saw little. Their whole attention wasdirected towards their men, for the Haussas, on hearing the gun-fire, impetuously made a rush on deck--not by reason of panic but out of thedeep curiosity that is ever to the fore in the minds of West Africannatives to a far greater extent than in the case of Europeans. 

Next morning the _Ponto_ was nowhere to be seen. She had founderedwithin two hours of the engagement, while two hundred of her officersand crew were prisoners of war on board the _Tompion_, and a hundredand twenty British subjects, mostly the crews of vessels taken and sunkby the raider, found themselves once more under the banner ofliberty--the White Ensign. 

During the course of the day Wilmshurst heard the salient facts inconnection with the raider's career. She was the Hamburg-Amerikaintermediate liner _Porfurst_, who, after being armed and camouflaged, had contrived to escape the cordon of patrol-boats in the NorthAtlantic. For three months she had followed her piratical occupation, re-provisioning and re-coaling from the vessels she captured. Wheneverher prisoners grew in number sufficiently to cause inconvenience the_Porfurst_ spared one of her prizes for the purpose of landing thecaptives in some remote port. 

It was by a pure fluke that the raider ran almost blindly under theguns of the _Tompion_. Under the impression that the convoy consistedof unescorted merchantmen the _Porfurst_ steamed athwart their track, and slowing down to eleven or twelve knots, awaited the arrival of alikely prey. 

Finding too late that the convoy was not so impotent as at firstappearance the kapitan of the _Porfurst_ attempted a daring ruse. Uponbeing challenged by the cruiser he gave the vessel's name as _Ponto_, the real craft having been sunk by the raider only two days previously. The Hun stood a chance of dropping astern and slipping away but for thefurtive and timely warning signalled by a young apprentice, who, contriving to creep unobserved into one of the boats, made good use ofa small electric torch which he had managed to retain. 

Enquiries of the released prisoners resulted in the information thatthey had been treated by their captors in a far better manner than theHuns generally deal with those unfortunate individuals who fall intotheir hands. The kapitan of the _Porfurst_ was no exception to theusual run of Germans. It was the possibility of capture--which haddeveloped into a certainty--that had influenced him in his treatment ofthe crews of the sunk ships. Only the fear of just reprisals kept himwithin the bounds of civilized warfare, and having behaved in anostentatiously proper manner towards the prisoners he received inreturn honourable treatment on board the _Tompion_. 

When the convoy was within two days' sail of Table Bay another convoywas sighted steering north, while wireless orders were received for the_Tompion_ to escort the homeward bound ships and let the transports"carry on" under the protection of two destroyers sent from Simon'sTown. 

Upon receipt of these orders the captain of the cruiser signalled the_Zungeru_, asking her to receive on board the released crews of thesunk ships and to land them at Table Bay. Although wondering why themen should be set ashore at the Cape instead of being taken back toEngland the master of the transport offered no objection, andpreparations were made to tranship the ex-prisoners. 

Knowing several officers of the mercantile marine, Wilmshurst strolledinto the _Zungeru's_ ship's office and asked the purser's clerk to lethim have a look at the list of supernumeraries. There was a chancethat some of his acquaintances might be amongst the released prisonersnow on board the transport. 

As far as the officers' names were concerned Dudley "drew blank. " Hewas on the point of handing the type-written list back to the purser'sclerk when he noticed a few names written in red ink--three civilianswho had been taking passages in ships that had fallen victims to theraider _Porfurst_. 

"MacGregor--Robert; of Umfuli, Rhodesia--that's remarkable, " thoughtWilmshurst. "That's the name of Rupert's chum. Wonder if it's thesame man? There may be dozens of MacGregors in Rhodesia; I'll see if Ican get in touch with this MacGregor. "

That same afternoon the Rhodesian was pointed out to Dudley by thethird mate as he strolled into the smoking-room. 

Robert MacGregor was a man of about thirty-eight or forty, tall, raw-boned and with curling hair that had a decided auburn hue. In theabsence of any description of Rupert's chum, Dudley had no idea of whathe was like, and until he approached this MacGregor his curiosity wasnot likely to be satisfied. 

"Excuse me, " began Wilmshurst. "I believe your name is RobertMacGregor?"

The Rhodesian, without showing any surprise at the subaltern'squestion, merely nodded. A man who has lived practically alone foryears in the wilds is not usually ready with his tongue. 

"Did you ever run across a man called Wilmshurst--Rupert Wilmshurst?"continued Dudley. "He's my brother, you know, " he added by way ofexplanation. 

"Yes, " replied MacGregor slowly. "He was a chum of mine. "

CHAPTER IV

SPOFFORTH, MACGREGOR, AND THE LIONESS

Robert MacGregor pulled a pipe from his pocket and leisurely filled itwith Boer tobacco. His slow, deliberate way contrasted forcibly withWilmshurst's quick, incisive manner; his slow dialect would haveirritated the subaltern beyond measure but for the fact that he guessedthe Rhodesian to be of Scots descent. 

Dudley noticed particularly that MacGregor had referred to his brotherin the past tense. It sounded ominous. 

"Was a chum?" he repeated with an accent on the first word. 

"In a sense, yes, " replied MacGregor. "We went for a couple of tripsinto German East. The last time was just before the war. You know whywe went?"

"It was in connection with a hidden store of ammunition, I believe, "replied Wilmshurst. 

The Rhodesian nodded slowly, puffing steadily at his pipe. 

"Rupert found a mare's nest, I fancy, " he continued. "At any rate, before we made any really important discoveries I had to go back toJo'burg. Had no option, so to speak. Then, in connection with thesame business, I penetrated into German South-West Africa. I was inBersheba for nearly a fortnight before I heard that war had broken out, and the first intimation I had was being put under arrest and sent upcountry to Windhoek. 

"When Botha overrun the colony I was released and offered a sound jobat Walfisch Bay--fairly important Government appointment in connectionwith the distilling plant. That completed I thought I'd trek back toRhodesia and do a bit in German East. Thinking I would do the tripround quicker by sea I took passage on the _Ibex_, a tramp of about twothousand tons, and within twelve hours of leaving Walfisch Bay the boatwas captured by the _Porfurst_. "

"I hope I'm not tiring you with too many questions, " said Wilmshurstafter he had made several enquiries respecting his brother. Theanswers received were far from satisfactory, for MacGregor seemed tomake a point of "switching off" the subject of Rupert Wilmshurst anddwelling at length on his own adventures. 

"Not at all, " replied the Rhodesian. "As regards your brother you mayget in touch with him, but German East is a whacking big country. Areyou part of a brigade?" he asked. 

"We're just the 'Waffs, '" replied Dudley. "The West African FieldForce, you know. As regards numbers or our scene of action I haven'tthe remotest idea at present. I don't believe that even the colonelknows. "

"At any rate, " continued MacGregor, "I think I'll see your colonel andget him to let me proceed in the _Zungeru_. It doesn't very muchmatter whether I join the Rhodesian contingent, although I'd prefer to, or get attached to one of the Boer detachments, or even your crush, ifthey'd have me. I don't want to brag, Mr. Wilmshurst, but I'd bemighty useful, knowing the country as I do. "

MacGregor's application met with favourable consideration, although hedid not tell Wilmshurst the result of the interview with the coloneluntil the transports dropped anchor in Table Bay and the rest of thereleased men went ashore. 

Bad weather off Cape Agulhas made the rounding of the southernmost partof Africa a disagreeable business, but in ideal climatic conditions theconvoy, with two destroyers still on escort duties, approached CapeDelgado, beyond which the territory of German East commences. 

The short tropical dusk was deepening into night when two trampsteamers were sighted, bearing N. N. E. In obedience to a signal fromone of the destroyers they revealed themselves as two Dutch tradingships bound from Batavia to Rotterdam, but driven out of their courseby a succession of gales at the commencement of the south-west monsoon. 

Commanded to heave-to both vessels were boarded by examination officersfrom the destroyer, but their papers being quite in order and nothingof a suspicious nature discovered amongst the cargo they were allowedto proceed. 

At daybreak the convoy learnt that both vessels had been shelled anddestroyed by a British cruiser, but not in time to prevent them landingtwo batteries of 4. 1 inch Krupp field-guns at the mouth of the Mohororiver. 

"Rough luck those vessels slipping through the blockade like that, "commented Spofforth. "Those guns are as good as a couple of battalionsof Askaris to the Huns. "

"Never mind, " rejoined Danvers. "It'll put a bit of heart into Fritzand make him buck up. That'll give us a chance of smelling powder. "

"Perhaps, " said Wilmshurst. "I heard the major say that fieldartillery was more of a drag than a benefit to the Boers in the SouthAfrican War. It destroyed their mobility to a great extent, and notuntil we had captured most of the guns did the Boer start properguerilla tactics--and you know how long that lasted. "

"Hanged if I want to go foot-slogging the whole length and breadth ofGerman East, " commented Danvers. "I'd rather tackle a dozen batteriesthan tramp for a twelve-month on end. So this is that delightful spot, Kilwa?"

He pointed to a long, low-lying expanse of land, covered with trees. Away to the northward the ground rose, forming a plateau of coralnearly fifty feet above the sea, and on which many huge baobab treeswere growing. The shores surrounding the harbour were low and coveredwith mangroves, but in and out could be discerned several lofty hills. Here and there could be seen isolated native huts, while at the head ofthe harbour clustered the thatch and tin-roofed houses of the Germansettlement, which had for several months been in British occupation. 

With their systematic thoroughness the Huns had vastly improved thehealth of the hitherto miasmic-infested port, following the principlesadopted by the Americans during the construction of the Panama Canal. Consequently much of the terrors of the fever-stricken port of Kilwa inby-gone days had disappeared, and with the continuance of ordinaryprecautions the place offered a suitable base for the columns about tooperate between the Mohoro and Rovuma rivers. 

Without undue delay the Waffs were disembarked and sent under canvas onfairly high ground at some distance from the harbour. For the nextweek intense activity prevailed, the men being strenuously subjected tothe acclimatising process, while the horses and mules had to becarefully watched lest the deadly sleeping-sickness should make itsappearance at the commencement of the operations and thus place thetroops under severe disadvantages. 

The officers, too, were not spared. Drills and parades over they hadto attend lectures, tactical problems having to be worked out by theaid of military maps. 

These maps, based upon German surveys, were the most accurateobtainable, but even then they left much to be desired. Subsequentknowledge of the country showed that frequently roads and native pathswere indicated that had no actual existence, while on the other handpassable tracks were discovered that were not shown on the maps. Morethan likely the wily Huns allowed what were presumed to be officialmaps to fall into the hands of the British, having taken particularcare to make them misleading. It was but one of many examples of theway in which Germany prepared for war not only in Europe but in herterritorial appendages beyond the sea. 

MacGregor landed with the troops and was given a semi-official positionas scout and attached to the same battalion to which Wilmshurstbelonged. Gradually his taciturnity diminished, until he developedinto a fairly communicative individual and was generally popular withthe Mess. 

During the stay in camp at Kilwa Wilmshurst, Danvers, Spofforth andLaxdale snatched the opportunity of going on a lion-hunting expedition, MacGregor on their invitation accompanying them. 

Taking . 303 Service rifles, for which a supply of notched bullets wasprovided (for game shooting purposes only these terribly destructivemissiles are allowable), and with Sergt. Bela Moshi and half a dozenHaussas as attendants the five men left Kilwa camp at about two hoursbefore sunset. 

An hour and ten minutes' ride brought them to a native village whereseveral lions had been terrorising the inhabitants by their nocturnaldepredations. Here the horses were left under the charge of one of theHaussas, and the party set out on foot into the bush. 

"Think we'll have any luck, MacGregor?" asked Laxdale. "Hanged if Iwant to spend all night lugging a rifle about without the chance of ashot. "

The Rhodesian smiled dourly. He knew the supreme optimism of amateurhuntsmen and the general disinclination of the King of Beasts to beholed by a bullet. 

"Unless a lion is ravenously hungry he will not put in an appearance, "he replied. "Of course we might strike his spoor and follow him up. We'll see what luck we get when the moon rises. "

For some distance the party travelled in silence. With the darkness ahalt was called, for until the bush was flooded with the strongmoonlight further progress was almost impossible. 

Away on the right, at not so very great a distance, came the bleat of agoat, while further away still could be heard the awe-inspiring roar ofthe lions after their prey. 

"Hanged if I like the idea of those huge brutes leaping right upon us, "whispered Spofforth. "I, being the tallest of the crush, will be sureto bear the brunt of his leap. "

Spofforth was the giant of the battalion, standing six feet four inchesin his socks, and proportionately broad of shoulder and massive oflimb. At the last regimental sports he carried off the running, long-jump and hurdle events, while as a boxer and a wrestler he was amatch for most men, yet he expressed his fears with all sincerity, inwardly wishing for the rising of the moon. 

The Haussas, too, were far from comfortable. Had they their wish theywould have lighted a roaring fire, one of the most effective though notinfallible means of keeping wild animals at bay. 

The fifty minutes' halt in the desolate bush terminated when the deeporange-hued orb of night rose above the distant sea. As the shadowsshortened the trek was resumed, each man keeping his loaded rifle readyfor instant use. 

Before they had gone two hundred yards, following a native path onwhich the spoor of a couple of lions was distinctly visible, Laxdalesuddenly disappeared, while Wilmshurst, who was walking hard on hisheels, was only just able to save himself from following his example. 

Followed a great commotion in which the luckless subaltern's shoutsmingled with the terrified bleating of a goat. 

"Help us out, you fellows, " cried Laxdale in desperation. "I've awhole menagerie for company by the feel of it. "

"You'll scare every lion within five miles of us, laddie, " expostulatedMacGregor, kneeling at the edge of the pitfall and peering into thedarkness within. 

With the assistance of his electric torch Wilmshurst made the discoverythat the trap was a hole of about twelve feet in depth and about thesame distance in length. In breadth it overlapped the path, itspresence being skilfully concealed by branches of trees overlaid withbroad leaves on which earth had been thrown and lightly pressed so asto give it the appearance of part of the beaten track. In the floor ofthe pit pointed stakes had been driven, but fortunately Laxdale hadfallen between them and thus escaped being impaled. His sole companionwas a goat that, left without food and water, was to act as a decoy tothe lions. Evidently the pitfall had been recently dug, otherwise thespoor of the beasts would not be visible on both sides of it. 

"Dash the villagers!" exclaimed Spofforth impetuously. "Why the deucedidn't the headsman give us warning of the beastly trap? Here, BetaMoshi, cut a couple of young trees and knock up a ladder. Cheer-o, Laxdale, dear boy. Just try and imagine you've found the better 'ole. "

"Imagination goes a long way, " retaliated the imprisoned sub. , "but youjust jump down and put your suggestion to the practical test. Ibelieve I'm being chawn up by white ants, and I'm certain that thejiggers are already tackling my toes. "

Promptly Bela Moshi set the Haussas to work, and a rough-and-readyladder having been constructed, Laxdale, little the worse for hisunexpected tumble, was released from the pitfall. 

The journey was resumed. Contrary to MacGregor's assertion the lionshad not been frightened away, for their deep, characteristic roar couldbe heard with greater distinctness than before, although they were agood distance away. 

MacGregor looked like proving a true prophet, however, for afterfollowing a fresh spoor for miles the hunters drew blank. At the edgeof a pool of stagnant water the tracks ended abruptly. 

"I don't fancy that water-hole, " said Wilmshurst. "It savours ofmosquitoes and other pests. How goes the time?"

Danvers consulted his wristlet watch. 

"Nearly four o'clock, " he announced. "If we are to be in camp by eightwe'll have to look slippy. "

A rustling sound in the grass within a few yards of the spot where thehunters were standing attracted their attention. With rifles ready toopen fire they waited. They could see the coarse tufts waving in themoonlight. 

"Stand by!" exclaimed Wilmshurst, handing his rifle to Bela Moshi, andbefore his companions could grasp the situation the subaltern plungedinto the grass, made a sudden dash, and was back with a healthy younglion cub in his arms. 

"We've bagged something, at all events, " he remarked triumphantly. "The little beggar got adrift, I suppose. "

"What are you going to do with it, old man?" asked Spofforthfacetiously. "Use it as a decoy or train it to guard your kit in camp?"

"Just as likely as not the cub will act as a decoy, " said Laxdale. "Let the little brute yap a bit. "

"He's yapping quite enough as it is, " rejoined Wilmshurst. "Hanged ifwe can hear anything with that noise. I hope you fellows are keepingon the alert?"

"MacGregor's doing that, " replied Danvers, indicating the silent formof the Rhodesian, as he stood motionless as a statue, with his rifleready for instant use. 

"Hear anything, MacGregor?" enquired Spofforth. 

The man shook his head. 

"Thought I did, " he replied, "but I must have been mistaken. "

Giving the cub into the care of Bela Moshi, Wilmshurst followed hiscompanions as they tramped in single file along the narrow bush track, the Haussas tailing on to the end of the procession. 

The edge of the bush was almost reached when Laxdale, with a splendidshot at a hundred and twenty yards, brought down a large panther. Ahalt was made while the blacks skinned the dead beast, for inpractically waterless districts panther-skin is a valuable aid to theefficiency of a Maxim gun. Soaked in water, wrapped round the jacketof the weapon, the evaporation keeps the gun cooler for a longer timethan if the water within the jacket alone were used. 

Upon coming within sight of the camp the white men were able to walkside by side in comparatively open country. 

MacGregor, Laxdale, and Danvers were on ahead, Spofforth and Wilmshurstabout fifty paces behind, Bela Moshi with the cub was close on Dudley'sheels, while the Haussas with the dead panther were some distance inthe rear, the blacks carrying the officers' rifles since the hunterswere clear of the bush. 

"I'll take the cub, " said Wilmshurst, noticing that the native sergeantwas stumbling frequently as he carefully nursed the somewhat fretfulanimal. 

"Berry good, sah, " replied Bela Moshi, handing the cub to thesubaltern. "I tink, sah, dat----"

A chorus of yells and warning shouts from the Haussas made the officersturn pretty sharply. What they saw was something that they had badlywanted to see but at the present moment had not the faintest desire tomeet. 

Leaping with prodigious bounds across the flat ground was an enormouslioness. The devoted beast had followed her cub for miles, herinstinct telling her that when the men halted her opportunity wouldcome to recover the little animal. A lioness bereft of her cubs hasbeen known to follow hunters for days in order either to recover orrevenge her offspring. The sight of the large camp, however, must haveincited the gigantic feline to premature action. 

Of the five white men only MacGregor retained his rifle. Laxdale andDanvers took to their heels, making for a large baobab that stood aboutfifty yards away. Strange to relate, MacGregor followed suit, thrusting a clip of cartridges into the magazine of his rifle as heran. Wilmshurst, hampered by the cub, stood stock still, fascinated bythe awesome sight of the approaching lioness. 

Ten yards in front of Wilmshurst stood Spofforth, swaying gently on histoes, his bulky figure thrown slightly forward and his armsoutstretched. 

"Run for it!" he exclaimed in a high-pitched, unnatural voice, butwithout turning his head. 

Wilmshurst disobeyed--for one thing he was unable to tear himself away;his feet seemed rooted to the ground. For another, a sense ofcamaraderie urged him to remain an impassive spectator of the impendingstruggle between an unarmed man, who had voluntarily interposed his bigbulk between the hampered subaltern and the infuriated animal. 

The lioness, roaring loudly, leapt. Spofforth closed just as herforepaws touched the ground, and the next instant man and beast wereengaged in a terrible struggle. 

The powerful officer clutched the lioness just below the jaws with bothhands, holding her in a vice-like grip. With his feet dug firmly, intothe ground he held, swaying to and fro but not giving an inch while thecruel talons of the ferocious beast were lacerating his arms fromshoulder to wrist. 

Exerting every ounce of strength Spofforth bore down, striving tofracture the terrible jaws. Once the lioness succeeded in dealing hima blow with her paw that, but for the protection afforded by his doublepith helmet would have brained the man. For a few seconds Spofforthreeled, his head-gear fell to the ground, leaving his skull unprotectedshould the lioness repeat the terrifically powerful stroke; yet not fora moment did his grip release. 

Through an eddying cloud of dust raised by the struggle Wilmshurstwatched the unequal conflict, until his will-power overcoming theinitial stages of hypnotic impotence, he threw the cub to the groundand drew his knife. 

With a sensation akin to that of a mild-tempered individual who essayswith his bare hands to separate two large and ferocious dogs engaged incombat Wilmshurst edged towards the flank of the lioness with theintention of hamstringing the tensioned sinews of her hind legs. 

Before he could deliver the stroke Bela Moshi grasped his officer bythe shoulders and unceremoniously jerked him aside; then lifting arifle to his shoulders the Haussa sergeant pressed the trigger. 

Down in a convulsive heap fell Spofforth and the lioness, the brutefrantically pawing both her antagonist and the dust in her deathagonies. Then with a sharp shudder the animal stretched herself anddied, while the subaltern, utterly exhausted, lay inertly upon theground, his rent sleeve stained with still spreading dark patches. 

By that time Laxdale and Danvers were upon the scene. Temporarybandages were applied to Spofforth's ugly-looking wounds, while thegreatly concerned Haussas improvised a litter made of rifles and coats. Upon this the badly-mauled subaltern was placed and the journey resumedtowards the camp, the dead lioness and her very much alive cub beingcarried in as trophies of the night's work. 

"Where's MacGregor?" asked Wilmshurst. 

Laxdale and Danvers exchanged enquiring glances. 

"Hanged if I know, " said the former. "The last I saw of him was whenhe was making for the baobab. We were a set of blighters scooting offand leaving old Spofforth to act like a modern Horatius. "

All three subalterns knew that the Rhodesian was the only man on thespot who had a rifle ready, yet generously they forbore to giveexpression to their thoughts. 

"See if you can find Mr. MacGregor, " ordered Wilmshurst, addressingBela Moshi. 

"Me go, sah, " replied the sergeant, and promptly he set off towards thebaobab, keeping his eyes fixed upon the ground. 

Arriving at the tree Bela Moshi rested his rifle against the trunk andwith the agility of a cat swarmed up to one of the lowermost branches. Both Laxdale and Danvers could see that it was a different part of thetree from that in which they had taken refuge. 

Crouching on the enormous limb Bela Moshi remained motionless for a fewmoments--a patch of huddled black and khaki hardly distinguishable fromthe sun-baked bark. Then he dropped lightly to the ground and by amovement of his arms signalled to some of the Haussas to approach. 

"By Jove, Bela Moshi's found him!" exclaimed Danvers, and the threesubalterns hurried to the spot. 

It was MacGregor they saw, lying face downwards on a bed of driedgrass. The Rhodesian was unconscious, but on examination no trace ofan injury could be found. In his panic he had succeeded in climbingthe tree as far as the lowermost branch and had been seized with asudden faintness. 

While the three officers were bending over him MacGregor opened hiseyes. Gradually their haunted expression gave place to a look ofbewilderment, until he realised that he was surrounded by friends. 

"By smoke!" he ejaculated. "I had cold feet with a vengeance--andbefore a lot of niggers, too. "

"So did we--that is, Danvers and I were in a mortal hurry to get out ofthe way of the lioness, " rejoined Laxdale. "Good old Spofforth borethe brunt of it, and he's badly mauled. "

"Is that so?" asked MacGregor. "I am sorry. It's a bad beginning, this running away business. I only hope the colonel and the otherswon't take it badly. "

"Don't worry, old chap, " said Danvers. "Feeling fit to foot it? Good. We've got to get Spofforth back as quickly as possible. "

Walking with difficulty MacGregor managed to keep pace with the threeofficers, and presently the rough-and-ready stretcher was overtaken. Upon arriving at the camp the medical staff were soon busy, with theresult that the wounds of the injured hunter were properly dressed. 

"Not so serious as at first sight, " declared the senior medicalofficer. "Unless complications set in he'll be fit in a month, buthe'll carry the scars all his life. "

CHAPTER V

HOW THE KOPJE WAS STORMED

A few days later the battalion left Kilwa for the scene of action, astrong force of Germans being located by seaplane reconnaissance twentymiles north of the Rovuma River and nearly four times that distancefrom the coast. 

Acting in conjunction with three battalions of the Waffs were a mountedBoer contingent and a Punjabi regiment that had already done goodservice in the northern part of the hostile colony, while threeseaplanes were "attached" to the expedition for reconnoitring purposes. 

In high spirits the Waffs marched out of camp, eager for the chance ofa scrap. The only malcontents were half-a-dozen hospital cases whoperforce had to be left behind; amongst them, to his great disgust, Second Lieutenant Spofforth, who though convalescent was unable tobluff the doctor that his arm was "quite all right--doesn'tinconvenience me in the least, don't you know. "

At the end of four days' hard marching through scrubby grounds thetroops began to climb the almost trackless hinterland, where water wasscarce and vegetation scanty. It was much of the same nature as theveldt in the dry season, kopjes being plentifully in evidence. Therewere unpleasant traces of Fritz and his native auxiliaries, for severalof the springs had been systematically poisoned andcunningly-constructed booby-traps were frequently encountered. 

Nevertheless all arms were sanguine of bringing the Huns to bay. Strong Belgian forces operating from the westward were driving theenemy towards the advancing British, while across the Rovuma Portuguesetroops, well supplied with light field-artillery, were considered a barto any attempted "break-through" on the southern frontier. 

Towards evening scouts reported the "spoor" of the enemy, for theground bore the impression of thousands of naked footprints and thoseof about a hundred booted men. A strong force of German Askaris, supported by a "white" body of troops with machine guns and mulebatteries, were retiring in a north-westerly direction, while a smalldetachment had broken off and was making almost north-east. 

It was against the latter party that the Nth Waffs were to operate, since it was recognised that a small, mobile, and determined body ofthe enemy would give almost if not quite as much trouble as a large andconsequently more cumbersome force hampered with guns in a difficultcountry. 

"Hullo!" exclaimed Wilmshurst, as a couple of Haussa scouts hurriedlyand stealthily rejoined the advance guard. "Tarry Barrel and Spot Cashhave tumbled upon something. "

"Hun he lib for stop, sah, " reported Tari Barl. 

"Stopping to make fight?" asked the subaltern eagerly. 

The Haussa shook his head, and moved his jaw after the manner of aperson eating. 

"Lib for stop for grub, " he exclaimed. "After that on him go. "

"How far?" demanded Wilmshurst. 

Tari Barl indicated that the scouts had followed two distinct spoorsfor more than a couple of miles without actually sighting any of theretiring enemy. 

Acting upon this information the advance guard marched into the groundon which the Huns had recently halted. Examination of the refuse andother traces revealed the fact that the enemy had been there but a fewhours previously, for the ashes of the extinguished fires were stillhot. That the march had been resumed in a leisurely manner, showingthat as yet the hostile detachment was unaware of the close pursuit, was evident by the systematic way in which the fires had been put outand earth thrown lightly over the embers. 

"We'll halt just beyond this spot, " decided the company major, when therest of the four platoons joined the advance guard. "Hanged if I fancybivouacking on the site of a Boche camp. What do you think of thefresh spoors, MacGregor?"

"That's the principal line of retreat, I think, " replied the Rhodesian. "They can't go very much farther, for it will be pitch black in twentyminutes. "'

"Just so, " agreed the major. "Set the men to work, Mr. Wilmshurst. Mr. Laxdale, you will please send a runner to the colonel and tell himthat we've proposed bivouacking here till dawn. "

Until it was quite dark the Haussas toiled, building sangars andconstructing light connecting trenches with abattis of sharp thornssufficient to deter and hold up a rush of bare-footed Askaris, sincethere was no knowing that after all the enemy had been informed of thepresence of the pursuing column. 

In silence the men ate their rations, no fires being allowed, andsentries to outlying piquets having been posted, the troops sleptbeside their piled arms. 

"What do you think of our chance of overtaking the bounders?" enquiredWilmshurst of MacGregor, as the former prepared to visit the sentries. 

"We ought to surprise them just after dawn, " replied the Rhodesian. "I'm just off to see the major and get his permission to try anddiscover their position. "

"But it's pitch dark, " remarked Dudley. "You couldn't see your hand infront of your face. Man, you'd be bushed for a dead cert. "

"I don't know so much about that, " replied MacGregor confidently. "Thefellows up at Umfuli often used to chaff me, saying that I had eyeslike a cat. Believe I have. At any rate I'll risk it, and if I'm notback an hour before dawn my name's not MacGregor. "

"Let me know if the major agrees, " said Wilmshurst. "I don't want mysentries to take pot shots at you when you return--and they are alljolly good marksmen, " he added in a tone of pride, for he had goodreason to pin his faith upon the Haussas' accuracy with a rifle. 

It was not long before MacGregor returned. 

"Fixed it up all right, " he announced, "and now I'm off. If, justbefore dawn, you hear the cry of a gnu you'll know it's this johnnyreturning, so please keep the sentries well in hand. "

The subaltern accompanied the Rhodesian past the alert sentries; then, with Wilmshurst's good wishes for the best of luck, MacGregor vanishedinto the night. In vain the young officer strained his ears to catchthe faint noise of the Rhodesian's footsteps or the crackle of a drytwig under the pressure of his boot, but not a sound did the scout giveof his progress. 

"Hanged if I'd like to take on his job, " soliloquised Dudley, as heslowly felt his way to the next pair of sentries. "I'd have a shot atit if I were told off for it, of course, but this darkness seems tohave weight--to press upon a fellow's eyes. S'pose it'll end in havingto send out parties to bring the fellow in. "

Truth to tell, Wilmshurst was not particularly keen on his brother'schum. Why, he could hardly explain. It might have had something to dowith MacGregor's conduct when the lioness charged. But since then theRhodesian had shown considerable pluck and grit, and his voluntaryoffer to plunge into the bush on a pitch dark night was a great factorin his favour, in Dudley's opinion. 

The subaltern's soliloquy was cut short by the dull glint of steelwithin a few inches of his chest--even in the darkness all bayonetsseem to possess self-contained luminosity--and a voice hissed, "Whocome?"

Reassuring the sentries--there were two at each post--Wilmshurstreceived the report that everything was all correct. 

"Macgreg, him go, " declared one of the Haussas, Macgreg being the nameby which the Rhodesian was known to the black troops. 

Wilmshurst was astonished. He had heard nothing of the scout'smovements, yet the sentry, fifty yards away, had declared quite blandlythat MacGregor had passed the outlying post. 

"How do you know that, Brass Pot?" asked the subaltern. 

The Haussa chuckled audibly, and holding his rifle obliquely with thebayonet thrust into the ground, placed his ear to the butt. 

"Macgreg him go and go, " he answered, meaning that the Rhodesian wasstill on the move. 

In vain Wilmshurst tested the sound-conducting properties of the rifle. Normally of good hearing he failed to detect what to Private Brass Potwas an accepted and irrefutable fact. 

"Very good, " said the subaltern, without admitting his failure. "Ifyou hear foot of Macgreg come this way before sergeant come for reliefsthen you send and tell me. Savvy?"

"Berry good, sah, " replied the Haussa. 

Having twice visited the sentries Wilmshurst returned to the bivouac tosnatch a few hours' sleep. It seemed as if he had only just dozed offwhen he was awakened by Sergeant Beta Moshi, who informed him that themen were already standing to and that the brief tropical dawn wasstealing across the sky. 

"Has Macgreg returned, Bela Moshi?" asked Wilmshurst, stretching hiscramped limbs, for he had not removed his boots during the lastforty-eight hours, and with the exception of a brief interval had beenon his feet practically the whole of that time. 

"MacGregor?" exclaimed Laxdale, who happened to overhear hisbrother-officer's question. "Yes--rather. It seems that he struck ourmain camp about an hour or so ago. The colonel's sent to say that weare to attempt an enveloping movement. The Boches are in force on akopje about five miles on our light front--about eight hundred of 'emaccording to MacGregor's report. "

"That's good, " declared Wilmshurst. All the same he felt rathersceptical. The spoor of the right-hand column of the retiring Hunshardly bore out the Rhodesian's statement, but evidently the scout knewhis business. 

"Is MacGregor accompanying us?" he asked, as the three subalternsprepared to rejoin their respective platoons. 

"Fancy not, " replied Danvers. "He's pretty well done up, I imagine. The scrub's a bit thick out there, and a fellow can't crawl far withoutpicking up a few thorns. Plucky blighter, what?"

"A" Company was to work round to the right of the hostile position, "B"operating to the left, both having two hours' start of the remainder ofthe battalion, which was to deliver a frontal attack simultaneouslywith the flanking movement. 

With the night-mists still hanging in dense patches over the scrubtactics were resumed. Wilmshurst had good reason to be delighted withhis men as the scouts and advance guards slipped off to their detailedpositions. At a hundred yards they were lost to sight and sound, threading their way with the utmost caution through the long grass likeexperienced hunters stalking their prey, while the various units keptwell in touch with each other by means of reliable runners. Othermethods of communication were out of the question. Flag-waving andheliograph would have "given the show away" with the utmost certainty. 

All feelings of physical tiredness vanishing under the magic spell ofimpending action, Wilmshurst led his extended platoon toward theirallotted positions. It was slow work. The ground was difficult; everyspot likely to afford concealment to a hostile sniper had to becarefully examined. The absence of bird life was ominous. It meantthat either the returning Huns had disturbed the feathered denizens orelse the advance of the Haussas had driven them over the enemyposition, in which case the wily Hun would "smell a rat. "

It was noon before Wilmshurst gained his preliminary objective. Thetropical sun was beating down with terrific violence, the scruboffering scant shelter from its scorching rays. Already thepreviously-dew-sodden ground was baked stone-hard, the radiating heatimparting an appearance of motion to every object within sight. 

Literally stewing, the subaltern threw himself flat on the ground underthe slight shadow of a dried thorn bush, and waited, at intervalssweeping the bare outlines of the kopje with his prismatic glasses. 

Thirty long drawn-out minutes passed. According to plan the envelopingmovement ought to have been completed an hour ago, but not a sign wasgiven that "B" Company had arrived at their position--a sun-baked dongaat a distance of fifteen hundred yards behind the kopje. 

Up crept Bela Moshi, his ebony features distended in a most cheerfullooking grin. 

"Hun him lib for sit down, sah!" he reported. "Five Bosh-bosh (hisrendering of the word Boche) an' heap Askari--say so many. "

He opened and closed his fingers of both hands four times, meaning thatthe hostile post consisted of five Germans and forty native troops. 

"They saw you?" asked the subaltern. 

"Dem no look, " replied the sergeant. "Too much busy make eat. "

"How far away?"

"One tousand yards, sah, " declared Bela Moshi. 

Writing his report on a leaf of his pocketbook Wilmshurst gave thepaper to Tari Barl with instructions to deliver it to the companycommander. 

Quickly the major's reply was received. The hostile post was to besurrounded, but no action taken until the order was given for theconcentrated rush upon the Huns holding the kopje. 

As rapidly as due caution allowed the enveloping of the outpost wascompleted. From his new position, less than four hundred yards fromthe spot where the unsuspecting Huns were bivouacking, Wilmshurst couldkeep them under close observation. 

Three of the Germans were middle-aged men, bearded, swarthy, anddressed in coffee-coloured cotton uniform, sun helmets and gum boots. The other two were quite young men, whose attention, despite the heat, was mainly directed towards the Askaris. Evidently some of the storeshad gone adrift, for the young Huns were browbeating a number ofnatives, punctuating their forcible remarks by liberal applications oftheir schamboks, while their elders looked on in stolid but unqualifiedapproval. 

"Dem make for one-time good shot, sah!" whispered Bela Moshi, calmlysetting the backsight of his rifle. "Blow Bosh-bosh him head-boneinside out an' him not know anyting. "

"Go steady, Bela Moshi, " cautioned the subaltern. "Pass the word forthe men to fire one volley over their heads--but not before I giveorders--and then rush them with the bayonet. We want them alive, remember. "

A whistle rang out faintly away on the left. The call was repeatedmuch nearer, while distinct blasts rose through the heated air. It wasthe signal for the advance. 

Almost as soon as Wilmshurst put his whistle to his lips a crisp volleyfrom the rifles of his platoon rent the welkin, then with fierce shoutsthe khaki-clad, barefooted Waffs leapt to their feet, their bayonetsglittering in the sun. 

At first, too utterly astonished to realise that they were hopelesslytrapped and outnumbered, the Huns stood stock still, gazing stupidly atthe converging ring of steel. The Askaris for the most part attemptedto bolt, but finding their retreat cut off, grovelled in the dust. 

"Hands up!" shouted Wilmshurst. 

The three bearded Huns obeyed promptly and meekly. Of the others oneheld up his arms with sullen reluctance, his flabby face distorted withrage. The fifth, dropping on one knee, picked up a rifle and levelledit at the on-rushing British officer. 

"The fellow's showing pluck, by Jove!" was the thought that flashedthrough Dudley's mind. Like all brave men he admired courage even in afoe. The fact that running over rough ground and firing a revolver atfifty yards did not give him much chance against a steadily held rifleentered into his calculations. 

Before the Hun could press trigger a score of rifles spoke. The Waffs, on seeing their young officer's danger, took no chances, and theGerman, his head and chest riddled with bullets, toppled over stonedead upon the ground. As he fell his fingers closed convulsivelyagainst the trigger of his rifle and the bullet intended for Wilmshurstsung past the subaltern's left ear. 

A loud yell from the other young Hun proclaimed the fact that he, too, was hit. A bullet fired at the resisting German had been deflected, passing through the fleshy part of his comrade's left arm. It was hardluck on a surrendered prisoner, but on these occasions luck, both goodand bad, crops up at every available opportunity. 

"Sorry, Fritz, " exclaimed Wilmshurst apologetically. "Accident, youknow. "

There was no time for explanation. Directing a Haussa to attend to theHun's injury and ordering others to round up and disarm the prisonersWilmshurst hurried his men to the storming of the kopje. 

On all sides the Waffs were climbing the slopes, yelling and cheeringvociferously, but not an answering shout came from the rocky summit. It required enormous restraint on the part of the foe to withhold theirfire, while already the Haussas had passed the zone where a volley atcomparatively short range would have played havoc with them. 

The silence on the part of the enemy seemed incomprehensible unless, not having sufficient numbers to hold the edges of the flat-topped hillthey had concentrated at one spot, where with machine-guns they couldrake the skyline as the Waffs breasted the top. 

Over the position the exultant troops poured, the one fly in theointment being the fact that their rush had met with no resistance. Inextended order they re-formed and dashed across the plateau--a rapidlycontracting line of khaki tipped with steel. 

Almost in the centre of the top of the kopje was an irregular mound ofpiled rocks and earth. Towards this the Waffs charged, their officersmomentarily expecting the rattle of musketry and the tic-tac ofmachine-guns. 

Without resistance the Waffs bore on, overran the supposed earthworksand found--nothing. 

There were not even traces of Hun occupation. The enemy had got clearaway with the exception of the small post rushed by Wilmshurst'splatoon. By an evident error of judgment on the part of MacGregor--anon-existent position had been the object of the column's attention, and although the operations were not entirely futile officers and menrealised that they had experienced a great disappointment. 

Descending the kopje the Waffs fell in, having secured their prisonersunder a strong escort. The order to march was about to be given whenthe distant rattle of musketry was distinctly heard. 

The colonel looked at the senior major enquiringly. 

"A raiding crush, sir, " replied the latter to the unspoken question. "While we've been on a wild goose chase Fritz is raiding our camp. "

CHAPTER VI

THE WARNING SHOT

Nobly the sorely-tried Waffs rose to the occasion. Notwithstandingtheir arduous advance and its meagre results they eagerly hastened tomeet the new danger, knowing that with the destruction of their baggageand transport and their lines of communication cut they would be in aserious position in the almost waterless scrub. 

They required little urging, the officers' words of encouragement beingquite perfunctory although well-intentioned. In open order withflankers thrown out the Waffs hurried through the bush, the sound ofcontinuous rifle-fire growing louder and louder. 

"Button's holding out all right, " declared the company-major toWilmshurst, referring to the lieutenant left in charge of the camp. "He has MacGregor and young Vipont to back him up and twenty-fiveHaussas. Hullo, what's that?"

"German machine-guns, sir, " replied Wilmshurst promptly. 

"Yes, worse luck, " resumed the major. "We've been running after theshadow and the substance butts in during our absence. "

An orderly came dashing up with a written message. The major's facefell as he read it. 

"We're out of it again, Wilmshurst, " he remarked, after the runner hadbeen sent back with a confirmatory report. 

"How's that, sir?" asked the subaltern. 

"Orders from the colonel for 'A' Company to hold the position shown onthe attached map, and to cut off the retreat of the enemy. Here weare: see this kloof? Three platoons are to lie in ambush at that spot, another--yours, Mr. Wilmshurst--will take up a position two miles tothe north-west, in case any stragglers attempt to break through thesmaller defile shown on the map. It looks nothing more than a nativepath. We'll find that out later on. "

At the word of command "A" Company halted until the rest of thebattalion was almost out of sight. Then the detachment, moving to theright in column of fours, marched at a rapid pace along a comparativelyclear path through the scrub. 

When the three platoons had taken up their position at the indicatedspot Wilmshurst's platoon had still a distance of two miles tocover--and that two miles was the roughest part of the whole day'smarch. It was a disused track possibly dating back to the old dayswhen the Arab slave-raiders traversed the greater part of CentralAfrica in search of "black ivory, " and was now greatly overgrown bycacti and other fibrous plants. Here and there palm trees had fallencompletely across the path, while in no part was it more than a yard inbreadth, being hedged in on both sides by dense tropical vegetation. And yet the track was distinctly marked upon the German-compiled mapswith which the British troops were working. 

It was hardly a route that any European under ordinary circumstanceswould tackle under the glaring heat of the afternoon's sun. Mosquitoes--harbingers of malaria--and fire-flies buzzed in swarms, snakes and lizards, their hitherto undisturbed solitude rudely shakenby the stealthy patter of three score pairs of bare feet, wriggledacross the swampy ground, while overhead thousands of frightened birdsflew in large circles, chattering the while in a way that would alarmevery Boche within a radius of three miles. 

A mile and a half of this sort of marching--the Haussas were in singlefile--and the platoon emerged into a wider track running obliquelyacross the path they had taken. Halting his men Wilmshurst, assistedby Sergeant Bela Moshi, examined the ground. There were evidences thata number of European and native troops had passed, going in theopposite direction to the Waffs' bivouac, while what was somewhatremarkable there were more recent tracks of a horse's hoofs. 

"Him am gov'ment horse, sah, " declared the sergeant. "Him lib for goplenty fast no time, " meaning that the animal was a British Army mount(this from the peculiar shape of the horse-shoe prints) and had passedby quite recently. 

"Probably Sutton dispatched a mounted orderly to summon help, " thoughtWilmshurst. "In that case the fellow's taken the wrong track. He'llbe back shortly. Hope it will be before Fritz ambles along here--ifit's our luck that the Huns do retire this way. "

Two hundred yards further on the scrub became quite scanty in a widebelt that terminated in a low range of hills. The slopes of the risingground were fairly steep except at a gap in the centre, where a deepravine had been utilized by the makers of the road. It was an idealspot for an ambuscade. Sheltering behind the cacti that abundantlycovered the hill the Haussas could extend on a fairly broad front, andconcentrate a heavy fire upon any enemy retiring along the path. Themaxim on its tripod mounting was set up to enable it to sweep theexpected column with an oblique fire, its panther-skin encasedwater-jacket being camouflaged by foliage carefully placed so as not toobstruct the sights. 

Hardly were these preparations completed when, with a terrific roar anda tremendous cloud of dust, an explosive missile burst within twohundred yards of the platoon's position. 

"Dash it all!" ejaculated Wilmshurst. "That's a thundering big shell. Keep down, men. "

The Haussas in natural and childlike curiosity were craning their necksto see the unexpected sight. Just then a loud buzzing sound came fromimmediately overhead. At the risk of being blinded by the terrificglare the subaltern glanced aloft to see a large seaplane that, havingcompleted a long volplane, had restarted its engine. By theconspicuous marks on the wings and fuselage Wilmshurst made thedisconcerting discovery that the aircraft was a British machine, andthat it was diligently engaged in attempting to bomb the Waffs out ofexistence under the mistaken idea that they were an enemy patrol. 

"That's done it!" muttered Wilmshurst. "The silly joker has put thekybosh on our chances of surprising the Boches. Lucky if we escapebeing hit with some of the infernal eggs!"

With difficulty restraining the Haussas from opening fire, for theywould not be convinced that the "great buzz-bird" could possibly make amistake, and that it must be a Boche machine, Dudley awaiteddevelopments, watching with decided apprehension the seaplane circlingto take up a favourable position for another bomb-dropping effort. 

The second missile burst in a donga a hundred yards to the rear of theHaussas' line, while a few seconds later a third exploded at half thatdistance again on the Waffs' flank. 

Wilmshurst was now sarcastically interested. 

"If you can't do better than that, old son, " he chuckled, "you'd betterhook it. My word, if ever I meet you on terra firma, I won't forget tochip you. "

The ineffectual strafing continued for nearly a quarter of an hour. Atthe end of that time the airmen, either discovering their mistake orelse having been called up by wireless to attack more numerous forces, desisted from their present operations. Banking steeply the seaplanebore away rapidly in a south-easterly direction, and was soon a merespeck in the azure sky. 

Followed a long period of inaction on the part of the Haussas. Scarcedaring to move lest a keen-eyed Askari should detect their presence, the Waffs hugged the sun-baked earth until the lengthening shadowswarned them of the approach of night. 

The distant firing had passed from rapid volleys through desultoryexchange of shots to a complete cessation. The rest of "A" Companywere not engaged, so it appeared to the still hopeful Haussas thattheir foes had effected a retreat in a different direction from thatexpected. With the fall of night a large hostile detachment mighteasily slip through the scantily-held lines, and that accounted for theuneasy glances that the Waffs gave at the declining orb of day. 

"Hist, sah!" exclaimed Beta Moshi. "Dey come. "

With every sense keenly on the alert Wilmshurst strove to detect theapproach of the foe. Already the men had slipped clips of cartridgesinto the magazines of their rifles, and, the exact range being known, had set sights to eight hundred yards, at which distance the retiringHuns would be on slightly-sloping ground practically destitute of cover. 

A cloud of dust rising sullenly in the still air marked the approach ofthe column. The Huns were moving rapidly, although there were nosounds to indicate that they were fighting a rear-guard action, whilethere were no signs of any advance guard. 

"We've got them cold, " exclaimed Wilmshurst, gleefully, then, "No. 1Section, volley firing, ready. "

Suddenly a shot rang out away on the left front of the concealedHaussas. 

"Who the deuce fired that?" thought the subaltern angrily, vowing tomake it hot for the luckless black who could not keep control over hisitching trigger finger. 

The mischief was done. At the warning shot the retiring enemy stoppedshort almost in the jaws of the trap that awaited them; then at a hotpace they disappeared into the bush to be swallowed up in the rapidlydeepening night. 

"Find out who fired that shot, sergeant, " ordered Wilmshurst. 

Bela Moshi's efforts were unavailing. Even when the platoon wasparaded and every man's rifle examined the culprit was not discovered. 

"Jolly rummy, " mused the subaltern. "It's a dead cert that none of mymen fired. Some one did. Why and for what reason?"

Fired with anger at the futile ending to their tedious efforts theHaussas sent a deputation to the young officer offering to search thebush in the direction from which the shot came, for the men of theextreme left flank were emphatic in their belief that they heard thesounds of booted feet after the report. 

"Off you go, then, " replied Wilmshurst. "Hurry back if you hear the'Fall in. '"

The two men selected--Tari Barl and No Go--lost no time in startingupon their hazardous quest. Armed only with their bayonets the Haussasvanished into the darkness. 

Another period of tension ensued. The tropical heat of the day gaveplace to intense cold as the parched earth rapidly radiated its heat. Presently the stars began to glimmer in the firmament, their brightnessincreasing to their full splendour of an African night. 

Still no message came for the platoon to fall back upon the rest of "A"Company. Vaguely Wilmshurst began to wonder whether the outlying Waffshad been overlooked. Sixty hours of almost continuous and strenuouswork were beginning to tell. Most of the Haussas, utterly worn out, were sleeping in easy yet undignified postures upon the ground, theonly men keeping awake being Bela Moshi and the other section commanderand sentries posted before Wilmshurst gave the word to stand easy. 

Even the subaltern found his head drooping. Half a dozen times hepulled himself together, only to realise that the overpowering desirefor sleep had him firmly in its grip. 

Suddenly the stillness was broken by the cautious challenge of one ofthe sentries. Tari Barl and his companion were returning. 

"Well?" exclaimed Wilmshurst interrogatively, as the stalwart blacksstood stiffly to attention. 

"Man him gone, " declared Tari Barl, with the important air of a personmaking a momentous statement. 

"Yes, I know that, Tarry Barrel, " replied the subaltern impatiently. "Is that all?"

"Me find dis in bush, sah, " continued the imperturbable Haussa, holdingup a small, glittering object for his officer's inspection. 

It was a recently-fired rimmed cartridge-case. Holding his electrictorch to the base of the case he gave vent to an exclamation ofperplexed surprise. 

For on it were cut the British Government broad arrow and the Romannumeral V. , which showed that the cartridge was similar to those issuedto the Waffs on leaving camp at Kilwa. 

"Treachery!" muttered Wilmshurst. "I wonder----"

CHAPTER VII

A TRUE MAN OR A TRAITOR?

It was in the early hours of the morning when "A" Company marched intobivouac. The men dismissed, Wilmshurst wrote out his report, handed itin and promptly fell sound asleep. 

The colonel, wisely deciding that little could be done with men wornout with sleeplessness and fatigue, issued orders that the pursuitwould be abandoned until the Haussas had recovered their usual form. Meanwhile other columns were on the track of the raiders, who, but forthe vigilance and dogged determination of Lieutenant Sutton, would have"wiped out" the Waffs' bivouac during the latter's wild-goose chase. 

For five hours the young officer, assisted by Second-lieutenant Vipontand a handful of Haussas, held the Huns at bay. With rifle, bayonetand bomb the plucky sons of the Empire manned the frail defences, untilthe enemy, unable to achieve their objective, retired before thereturning battalion could bring them to action. 

"Hullo, Wilmshurst!" exclaimed Laxdale, as the three subalterns of "A"company met just before a belated breakfast. "What happened to you?"

"A wash-out, " replied Dudley. "Held on till five this morning, andnever a chance of a shot; or rather, when it came we were dished. "

"Heard the news?" asked Danvers. "No? We had it this morning. TheHuns have rushed a Portuguese position on the Rovuma. The Portugueseskedaddled, leaving the whole battery of quick-firers intact. Isuppose it'll mean our chasing Fritz southward right through PortugueseEast. With luck we'll corner them on the Zambesi. "

"Guess you're wrong, Danvers, " interrupted Laxdale. "I know how thebusiness is going to end; street fighting in Cape Town. Fritz won'tstand, so it's an everlasting chase until he's got the sea at his back. "

"Any one seen MacGregor this morning?" enquired Wilmshurst. 

"MacGregor? Didn't you find him?" asked Vipont, who had joined thegroup of tired-eyed subalterns. "After the column left camp--about anhour and a half, I should say--he asked Sutton to let him try andovertake the battalion. Said he didn't want to swing the lead with amere scratch on his shin-bone. So he mounted and rode off. That's thelast I saw of him. "

"How long before the Huns attacked?" asked Danvers. 

"Three hours, " replied Vipont. "You don't suggest that a skilled scoutblundered right on top of them?"

"Not at all, " his questioner hastened to assert. "For one thing afterhe followed us he would be on a diverging route to that taken by Fritz& Co. What do you say, Wilmshurst?"

Dudley shook his head. He had no particular cause either to like ordislike the man, but he hesitated to give definite utterance to hissuspicions. It was decidedly un-British to condemn a man before beingsure of actual facts and to sow the seeds of distrust against anindividual who was not present to defend himself. But somehow thechain of events--the horse's footprints on the kloof road, the warningshot when the hitherto unsuspecting Huns were approaching the ambush, the mark V. Cartridge case--all pointed to treachery on the part ofsome one, while MacGregor's disappearance coincided with the otherpoints that had occurred to the subaltern. 

"He may be bushed, " he replied. "It's just likely that he'll turn upagain soon. Has his absence been reported? I'll mention it, if youlike. I have to see the adjutant in a few minutes. "

Wilmshurst found the adjutant in his "office, " which consisted of threewalls of piled ammunition boxes, with a double covering of canvas. Thefurniture was composed of a desk (an upturned packing-case) and acouple of chairs (smaller dittos) the former being littered withofficial forms and papers, for even in the wilds of Africa the BritishArmy cannot dispense with red-tape formalities. 

"Mornin', Mr. Wilmshurst, " was the adjutant's greeting as he returnedthe subaltern's salute. "Want to see you with reference to that reportof yours, don't you know. Take a pew. You'll find that case prettycomfortable, and come in out of the sun. Look here: from your report Iunderstand that a warning shot was fired, but not by any of ours. Isthat so?"

Wilmshurst paused. The adjutant was quick to notice his hesitation. 

"Come, come!" he continued sharply. "Do you suspect any one? If so, out with it. We can't stand on sentiment in matters of thisdescription, don't you know. "

"Are you aware, sir, that MacGregor left camp shortly after we leftcamp and has not returned?"

"Hasn't he, by Jove!" exclaimed the adjutant. "Well, what about it?Has that anything to do with the case in point?"

"I hope not, sir, " answered the subaltern, "but--but----"

"Proceed, " urged his questioner calmly. 

Wilmshurst, seeing no other course, boldly took his plunge, stating hisviews upon the connection between the scout's disappearance and thetimely warning received by the retiring enemy, producing as evidencethe rimmed cartridge case, which by reason of its shape and calibrecould not be fired from a Mauser rifle. 

"Dash it all!" exclaimed the adjutant explosively. "What sort ofreptile have we been harbouring? I'm afraid that what steps we takeconcerning him will be locking the stable door after the horse hasgone. "

"We arc working simply in conjecture, sir, " observed the subaltern. "He may be all right, after all. "

"Conjecture, confound it!" shouted the other. "What d'you call this?"holding up the cartridge case. "If it isn't circumstantial evidence, what is?"

At that moment an orderly put in an appearance. "Macgreg him horse amcome back, sah, " he reported, saluting. 

The adjutant, picking up a sheaf of papers and putting on hissun-helmet, hurried to the lines where the horses were picketed, Wilmshurst following and the orderly bringing up the rear. 

Already news of MacGregor's disappearance had spread, although therewas no thought of treachery in the minds of the other officers. Theyhad come to the conclusion that the Rhodesian in an access of zeal hadblundered right into the enemy column. 

The appearance of the horse bore out this surmise. The animal waslathered with foam, its eyes bloodshot and its limbs trembling. Acrossthe hind quarters was the sear of a bullet that had cut away the hairand left a slight wound in the hide. One stirrup was missing, cutthrough by means of a sharp implement, while the saddle and reins weredappled with blood-stains. 

"Bless my soul, Manners!" exclaimed the colonel turning to theadjutant. "What does this mean?"

"Dunno, sir, I'm sure, " answered the dum-founded officer. 

"We can't let the affair drop, " decided the C. O. "It's not fair onMacGregor to sit still. Tell off a section and follow the horse'stracks. Perhaps the man has been wounded--it looks very much likeit--and may be lying out in the bush. "

Promptly Bela Moshi and about a dozen men were dispatched to follow upthe spoor. Good trackers all, they ought to experience but littledifficulty, notwithstanding the fact that hundreds of men had beentrampling the ground, for the Haussas vie with the Australianaborigines and the Red Indian in the act of tracing a man or an animalfor miles with uncanny skill and persistence. 

Hardly had the Haussas departed on their errand when a couple ofBritish naval officers literally staggered into the bivouac. At firstthey were too utterly done up to speak. They were parched with thirst, their drill uniforms torn in their long trek through the scrub, andtheir boots were cut almost to pieces. One of them was limping badlyas the result of a sprained ankle. 

Under the care of Doctor Barclay the stragglers soon recoveredsufficiently to give a coherent account of their misadventures. Theywere the observer and pilot of one of the seaplanes attached to theRovuma column, their base being close to a large sheet of water formedby the inundation of the river. Out reconnoitring they had discovereda party of Huns and had bombed them very effectually. That was theirversion, although Wilmshurst had good reason to believe that they werequite under a misapprehension on that score. On the return flight theengine developed ignition troubles, and there was no help for it but toplane down. The airmen were lucky in being able to find a fairly openstretch of ground, but the unexpected happened. The floats of theseaplane skidded over the hard ground and caught against someobstruction, with the result that the machine was badly damaged, thepilot and observer being thrown violently. 

Forty miles from their base the airmen realised that it was almost outof the question to make their way on foot through the scrub, especiallyas there were several small rivers to be negotiated. So they decidedto find the bivouac of the Waffs which they had spotted on theiroutward flight. According to their estimate the distance was abouteight miles, but in reality it was almost twice that distance. 

Owing to the intense heat they were compelled to discard theiroveralls. Their foot gear was totally inadequate against the thornsand stony ground. Without water and with only a bar of chocolatebetween them they experienced terrible hardships before they sightedtheir temporary refuge. 

Their chief anxiety was now the question whether the seaplane could berecovered. On this score their minds were set at rest, when thecolonel promised to send out a fatigue party to dismantle the machineand transport it to the banks of the Runkoma, a small streamsufficiently wide to allow the seaplane to taxi provided the floatswere still intact. 

"You might take that job on, Mr. Wilmshurst, " remarked his companycommander. "Your platoon will be just about sufficient to provide thenecessary labour, and also a covering party, although I don'tcontemplate any trouble from the Huns. We've just heard that Fritz hashad a nasty smack at Motungba, which more than counterbalances hisrecent success against the Portuguese on the Rovuma. "

The action to which the major referred was a brilliant little affair onthe part of the main column operating in the Rovuma valley. The Hunswere found to be in a strong natural position, the defence of which wasfurther increased by well-constructed trenches and entanglements. 

Notwithstanding the difficulties of a frontal attack, a Punjabiregiment stormed the defences, the Indians making terrific havoc withbombs. The Askaris broke and fled, the Germans alone putting up afight until they were either killed or captured. The native levies intheir flight were overtaken and cut up by a squadron of colonial horse, and with slight loss the Imperial forces scored a dashing littlevictory, capturing four field guns and one naval gun removed from thecruiser _Konigsberg_, beside a vast quantity of arms and ammunition. 

The result of this engagement was a junction with the gallant Belgianforces, the Huns being split up into two groups, of which the principalforce was on the Portuguese border, while the other, subdivided intomobile detachments, was doubling back towards the Rufigi river. 

"These fellows will give trouble, " declared the major. "They won'tstand. They are in a mortal funk of enveloping movements; but by thetime we've rounded 'em up we'll be jolly sick of the show, you mark mywords. "

The return of Bela Moshi and his section diverted Wilmshurst'sattention into another channel. The Haussa sergeant had succeeded infollowing the spoor of MacGregor's horse for three and a half milesalong the path taken by the Waffs of their practically barrenoperations against the kopje when the Huns had been reported. Here thetrail ended in a medley of hoof-prints, while hard by a rock weretraces of the splaying of half a dozen bullets. In the sun-baked grassin front of the rock were found ten used cartridge cases and astirrup-iron, but a prolonged search faded to reveal any traces of themissing Rhodesian's departure from the spot where he had apparentlybeen brought to bay. There were hundreds of footprints all around;those of Askaris and Germans, for none of the imprints of booted feetbore any resemblance to those of Robert MacGregor. 

At the first opportunity the adjutant called Wilmshurst aside. 

"You didn't mention your suspicions to any one else?" he enquired. 

"No, sir, " replied Dudley. 

"It's just as well for the present, " continued Captain Manners. "ForMacGregor's sake I hope that you have done him an injustice, but I amquite convinced that you acted judiciously in communicating yoursuspicions to me. However, there's still one point that wants clearingup. The patrol did not find MacGregor's body. Nor was there any spoorto show which way he went if he did succeed in breaking through theenemy. The third surmise is that he might have been taken prisoner. If so, is it likely that the Huns provided him with a horse? I thinknot. Knowing Fritz as we do, the sort of thing that they would dowould be to lash his wrists, and drag him at the end of a line--butBela Moshi was emphatic that none of the boot-prints corresponded tothose of the missing man. Until the mystery is cleared up, we are at aloss to understand whether MacGregor is a true man or a traitor. "

CHAPTER VIII

ULRICH VON GOBENDORFF

Hauptmann Max von Argerlich, senior surviving officer of the 99thRegiment of Askaris, was in a furious temper with himself and every onewith whom he came in contact. It might have been the unusual exertionof a forced march in the heat of the sun, or an insufficiency of foodthat had upset him. The hard-worked Askaris had good cause to dreadhis passionate outbursts, for on these occasions lashes were ordered atthe faintest pretext, for efficiency, according to the hauptmann'sideas, could only be maintained by an active display of physical force. 

Von Argerlich's depleted and harassed force lay entrenched at M'ganga, after having withdrawn from another fortified position half an hour toolate according to the hauptmann's idea. All but surrounded, theAskaris just managed to escape being captured to a man, and now, temporarily safe from pursuit, the regiment had arrived at a preparedposition to await another column known to be retiring in anorth-westerly direction. 

The hauptmann was a middle-aged officer, a Prussian who through someindiscretion that had given offence to his Imperial master had beenpractically banished by being sent to German East Africa. That was twoyears before the war. Upon the outbreak of hostilities he hoped bymelodramatic means to find himself restored to favour, but to hischagrin he saw that younger officers gained promotion in the GermanColonial Forces while he remained at this present rank of hauptmann. 

With a bottle of spirits by his side von Argerlich sprawled upon a campbed, while in the absence of mosquito curtain two lean Askaris, terrified by the Hun's drunken outburst, were diligently fanning himwith broad leaves of a palm, knowing that if their efforts relaxed ordeveloped into greater zeal than the hauptmann desired, the schambokawaited them. 

Von Argerlich had good cause to remember the scrap before the retreat. A bullet fired from behind had nicked his ear, and he knew that it wasone of his Askaris who had fired. As a warning he had ordered half adozen of the luckless natives to be executed, but even then he was farfrom certain that the culprit was included in the number. There werestrong signs of mutinous insubordination in the ranks of the 99thAskari Regiment, and only the fact that the expected column was on itsway to join the forces under von Argerlich's command kept the blacktroops in any semblance of order. 

The hauptmann was both sorry and glad on that account; sorry because hewould automatically drop into a subordinate position when other Germanofficers superior in rank came in with the column; glad, since therewould be sufficient Europeans to overawe the iron-disciplined yetmutinous native troops. 

The appearance of the German sergeant-major interrupted the hauptmann'sreveries. Clicking his heels and stiffly saluting the veteran awaitedhis officer's permission to speak. 

"Well, dolt?" enquired von Argerlich thickly. 

"A scout has just reported that the Gwelba column has been sighted, Herr Hauptmann, " announced the warrant officer. "The advance guardought to be here within half an hour. "

"It is well, " replied the hauptmann, rising unsteadily. "TellLieutenant Muller to get the men under arms. Where's my sword? Hans, you black schweinhund, bring me my boots, and take care that there areno centipedes in them, or----"

Still grumbling the hauptmann buckled on his sword, donned hissun-helmet and boots and went out into the open space between thetrench and the lines of low-built huts where the remnants of the 99thregiment--250 men out of a full strength of 1, 200--were falling in. 

Worn and weary the advance guard of the column limped into the camp, followed at regular intervals by the main body. With the latter wasOberst von Lindenfelt, the senior officer of the column, and anotherindividual dressed in nondescript garments whose face seemed familiarto von Argerlich. 

"Greetings, Max!" exclaimed von Lindenfelt. "Let us hope you haveplenty of food. We are almost starving. "

"Not much in that line, Herr Oberst, " replied von Argerlich. "How haveyou fared?"

"Donnerwetter!" said the oberst vehemently. "Things have gone badly. It is indeed fortunate that we managed to find our way in. Had it notbeen for von Gobendorff here--you have met von Gobendorff before, Iunderstand?"

"Der teufel!" ejaculated the hauptmann, grasping the hand of themotley-garbed man, "of course I have. Ulrich, ten thousand pardons, but in two years a man is apt to alter, especially in these strenuoustimes. Has anything happened that you have been compelled to drop yourScottish name? Let me think. Ach! I have it. MacGregor, was it not?"

Ulrich von Gobendorff shook his head. "Nothing compelled me, Max, " hereplied. "The time was ripe--therefore Robert MacGregor is no more. The name and character served their purpose, " he continued, assuming aboastful tone. "It was I who warned von Lindenfelt's column when itstood a good chance of being cut off at Gwelba kopje. Again it is tomy credit that a detachment of our forces was not ambushed at Zwartekloof. I covered my tracks very effectively, did I not, Herr Oberst?Himmel. I have news for you, Max. The brother of your personal enemy, Rupert Wilmshurst, is with the English forces operating against us. Several times I have spoken to him. "

"Has he any suspicion?" asked the hauptmann anxiously. 

"None at all, " replied von Gobendorff. "It was easy to tell him aplausible tale. And how fares the interfering Englishman, RupertWilmshurst?"

"We still have him in close confinement up in the Karewenda Geberge, "replied the hauptmann carelessly. 

"A personal matter?" enquired Oberst von Lindenfelt. 

"The accursed Englishman struck me a blow because I thought fit tochastise a thieving native woman, " replied von Argerlich. "That waswhen the fellow was still prowling round to find the ammunition whichwe buried in readiness for the present time. Our good friend Ulrichtrapped him. "

"Why didn't you shoot the Englishman as soon as I had departed forSouth-West Africa?" enquired Ulrich von Gobendorff. "It would havebeen a simple solution to the difficulty, for dead men tell no tales. "

"I would have done so, " replied the hauptmann, "but for this reason. There were hundreds of natives who saw him taken away under arrest. Ifthings go wrong with us they will most certainly inform the English. Also I do not wish to be a subject for reprisals, as I hear our foesare adopting that attitude. If we are to be on the losing side it paysus to walk circumspectly. By the bye, have you heard anything latelyof your brother, Ernst?"

"Not for many months, " replied Ulrich von Gobendorff. "The last time Ireceived indirect tidings that he was doing good work in England. Itwill take a very smart man to catch Ernst. He is one of the most wilySecret Service Agents in the employ of the German Imperial Government. "

Oberst von Lindenfelt having dismissed the troops the three Germansadjourned to the hauptmann's quarters, where over the remains of thebottle of spirits conversation was resumed. 

"Tell me how you gave the Englishman the slip, Ulrich, " asked vonArgerlich. 

"It was quite a simple matter, " replied the spy. "I informed the campcommander--he was a simple sort of leutnant--that I was going toovertake the column, the column, by the bye, having been sent by me ona fool's errand to capture an imaginary laager on Gwelba kopje. According to previous arrangements I fell in with Hauptmann Schmidt'scompany, and he obligingly set a squad of his Askaris to work to stagethe last stand of Scout MacGregor. We trampled the grass, left a fewcartridge cases lying about and sent my borrowed horse away with abullet-wound in his flank to hurry him up, and to give additionalcolour to the effect. I should not be surprised to see the name ofRobert MacGregor posthumously honoured with the British Military Medalor something of that sort. "

The three Huns laughed uproariously. Under the temporarilyexhilarating effect of the rank spirit they were beginning to forgettheir physical exhaustion. 

"To be on the safe side, " continued von Gobendorff, "it will benecessary for me to get as far away from the Nth-West African Regimentas I can. I presume that you have no objection to my leaving you, HerrOberst?"

Von Lindenfelt grunted assent. 

"Can you get clear of the colony?" he asked. "Every frontier isguarded, while since the _Jaguar_ succeeded in running her cargo ofquick-firers ashore even the coast is rigidly patrolled by thoseaccursed English cruisers. "

"Give me a dozen native carriers, rifles and ammunition, and I'll wagerthat before another fortnight I'll be in Rhodesia, " declared vonGobendorff. "Once there the rest will be easy; train to Cape Town, mail-boat to Plymouth, our splendid unterseebooten permitting; then, having applied to a certain compatriot in London for a forged passport, I'll cross to Flushing and be in German territory three months fromnow. "

"If you do, please don't forget to inform the authorities at Berlinthat I am still doing good work for the Fatherland, " remarked thehauptmann earnestly. "The War Office seems to forget us out here. "

"Quite so, " agreed von Lindenfelt. "We do not get even Iron Crosses, although we are still holding out after two years of incessantguerrilla warfare. Only the other day----"

A junior officer stood in the doorway, his flaccid features workingwith excitement. 

"Pardon, Herr Oberst, " he exclaimed, as he saluted. "An Englishaeroplane----"

"Donnerwetter!" interrupted the German excitedly. "Is that so? VonArgerlich, I trust that there is a positively bomb-proof shelteravailable? How far away is the accursed machine, Herr Schmidt? Is itflying in the direction of M'ganga?"

"No, sir, " replied the leutnant gravely. He wanted to smile, but adisplay of mirth at the expense of a superior officer was notadvisable. "It has fallen at about twelve kilometres from here. Ourscouts reported that the two occupants were seen tramping through thebush in the direction of the English bivouac four miles south ofGwelba. "

"Why did not the Askaris shoot them?" demanded Oberst von Lindenfelt. 

"There were but three of our scouts and the Englishmen were armed, "explained the German. "I would venture to suggest, Herr Oberst, thatthe men did well to return immediately with their report rather thanrisk being disabled in an attempt to engage the airmen. "

Von Lindenfelt pondered a few moments, then he turned abruptly toUlrich von Gobendorff. 

"I believe you understand aeroplanes, Ulrich, " he said. "Did you notfly at the great Johannesthal meeting a few years ago? I thought youtold me so. Ah! yes. You will accompany Hauptmann von Argerlich and ahalf company of Askaris. If the machine is easily repairable, fly itback here, otherwise destroy it. Until this duty is performed Iwithhold my permission for you to leave the column. Start as soon aspossible. A horse will be provided you. "

It was useless to demur. The oberst's word was law. Inwardly ragingvon Gobendorff rose to his feet, stiffly saluted and followed thehauptmann out of the hut in execution of von Lindenfelt's order. 

CHAPTER IX

THE FIGHT FOR THE SEAPLANE

At dawn Wilmshurst left the camp, accompanied by the full platoon, toattempt the salving of the crippled seaplane. It was a comparativelyeasy matter to follow the tracks of the two airmen, for thedown-trodden grass and the frequent sights of wisps of clothingadhering to the briars and thorns were evidences of a spoor that evenan indifferent scout could determine. 

"Those two johnnies must have had a rough time of it, " thought thesubaltern. "I can well imagine their difficulties. It's a wonder theygot to the camp at all, for there are distinct spoors of lions. What'sthat, Bela Moshi?"

"Big rhino him come by, " reported the sergeant, pointing to heavydepression on the ground. What he meant was that a rhinoceros had cutacross the bush path not so very long ago, as the freshly trampledgrass showed. 

"All right, " replied Wilmshurst. "Warn the men to be on the alert. Wedon't want casualties. "

Bela Moshi hurried to the head of the column, for the Haussas were insingle file, owing to the narrowness of the bush-path. 

At that moment the platoon was crossing a dried water-course, theground shelving steeply on both sides. The subaltern had an almostuninterrupted view of the heads and shoulders of the men preceding himas the foremost began the stiff ascent beyond the nullah. 

Suddenly the Haussas broke right and left, uttering warning shouts. Charging down the narrow track was a huge animal of the buffalo tribe, commonly known in Central Africa as a "bush-cow. "

The ground trembled under the thud of the brute's ponderous weight asit rushed at terrific speed to attack the khaki-clad blacks. 

One man alone stood his ground. Dropping on one knee he fired straightat the centre of the tufts of hair that concealed the animal's eyes, the range being less than thirty yards. 

Dudley heard the almost simultaneous crash of the rifle and the thud ofthe bullet against the bush-cow's frontal-bone, but apparently unharmedthe animal continued its headlong rush. 

Too late the plucky Haussa attempted to avoid the impetus by springingaside. Even as he leapt to his feet the man was caught by the loweredhead of the ferocious brute and tossed ten feet in the air. 

Across the bed of the dried-up stream the bush-cow charged, untilWilmshurst hurriedly came to the conclusion that it was quite time forhim to dodge behind a tree. As he made for shelter he saw the animal'sfore-legs collapse and its ponderous carcass plough the ground. 

Making his way through the press of excited Haussas Wilmshurst saw thatthe bush-cow was stone dead. The bullet had penetrated the brain, entering by a neatly-drilled puncture and emerging by a hole as largeas a man's fist. Yet, although hit in a vital spot, the animal hadcovered a distance of nearly fifty yards before collapsing. 

"One no go, " declared Bela Moshi. "Anoder him lib for come plentyquick. "

"Think so?" remarked the subaltern. "Then don't stand bunched uptogether--extend. Three of you lift Nara Gilul into the shade. "

Anxiously Wilmshurst examined the brave but unfortunate black. NaraGilul was fully conscious in spite of having fallen on his head, buttwo of his ribs were fractured and his shins were badly cut althoughprotected by his puttees. 

"Nara Gilul him stop till we come back, " suggested the corporal of hissection in answer to Dudley's question as to what was to be done. "Him'ab rifle an' ammunition. Him lib to take care ob himsel'. Berry muchhim fault. "

"That won't do, corporal, " said Wilmshurst. "We must send him back. Take five men with you. It will be only two hours' trek. "

Accordingly the Haussas set to work to make a stretcher, performing thetask with wonderful celerity. They were on the point of lifting thehelpless man when the shout was raised. 

"Bush-cow, him come!"

"Take cover, all of you!" shouted the subaltern, loath to hamper histask by additional casualties. 

The Haussas obeyed with one exception--Bela Moshi. 

The sergeant, slipping a clip into the magazine, stood right in thecentre of the path along which the second bush-cow was tearing, eagerto avenge its mate. 

Wilmshurst made no further attempt to order Beta Moshi to take refuge. He realised that to do so would flurry the imperturbable sergeant, buthe was entirely at a loss to understand why the Haussa was apparentlycourting disaster in precisely the same way as the luckless Nara Gilulhad done. 

A rifle bolt clicked in the bush on the sergeant's flank. 

"Unload!" he hissed, knowing that the risk he ran from an excited manwith a loaded rifle was greater than that confronting him. 

At a terrific pace the bush-cow bore down. Twenty yards from themotionless man the brute lowered its head. In that position its visionwas obscured by the thick tufts of long hair. Having taken its final"sighting position" the animal relied upon its momentum to achieve thedestruction of its human enemy. 

The moment the bush-cow lowered its head Bela Moshi, with every senseon the alert, leapt sideways behind a tree. Then, as the infuriatedquadruped thundered past, the Haussa brought his rifle to the shoulderand fired. 

Thirty yards further the bush-cow dropped and died with a bulletthrough its heart, while the victor, grinning as only a black can grin, strode magnificently up to his victim and planted one foot upon thequivering carcass. 

The injured man having been sent back and the carcasses of the twoanimals dragged aside--they would provide excellent meat if the task ofsun drying the flesh was not unduly delayed--the march was resumed, until on gaining the summit of a low hill the wings of the broken-downseaplane were visible as they rose obliquely above the scanty scrub ata distance of nearly two miles. 

Halting his men, Wilmshurst made a careful survey of the ground bymeans of his binoculars. A number of large birds--_aasvogels_, orAfrican vultures--were circling over the derelict. It was thereforesafe to conclude that no human being, unless helpless to lift a hand, was in the vicinity. 

In the midst of his investigations Tari Barl approached with aself-satisfied smile on his ebony features. 

"Askari him foots, sah!" he reported, holding up three fingers of hisright hand to indicate that he had discovered the spoor of three of theGerman native soldiery. 

"H'm!" muttered Dudley. "That's rotten news. New spoor, Tarry Barrel?"

The Haussa nodded vehemently, and led his officer to the footprints. 

Examination showed that three natives had been following the spoor ofthe two naval airmen. The firm tread of the latter--for at that stageof the journey they were comparatively fresh--was partly obliterated bythe typical imprints of a black walking stealthily on his toes, for theimpress of the heels hardly occurred. The Askaris had abandoned thetrail a short distance from the brow of the hill, for there were markswhere they had stood and debated, and the spoor leading in anorth-westerly direction showed that they had gone by a different routefrom the one they had followed. This track did not lead in thedirection of the stranded seaplane, so Wilmshurst conjectured that theAskaris had made straight for their main body, possibly with theintention of bringing men to recover the trophy. 

Again the subaltern levelled his glasses and swept the skyline. Wending their way down a bare kloof were about two hundred armed blacksand three men in European garb riding in the centre of the column. 

"MacGreg him dar, sah!" exclaimed Bela Moshi. 

"Nonsense!" replied Wilmshurst, yet in his heart he was not at all surebut that the Haussa was right. 

"MacGreg him make palaver with Bosh-bosh, " declared the sergeant. 

It was a contest between a pair of high-powered field glasses and theeyesight of a native. Vainly Wilmshurst wiped the lenses and lookedand looked again without being able to satisfy himself that BelaMoshi's statement was correct. 

"Here, you boy!" said the sergeant addressing Tari Barl. "You comehere an' use yer eyes all one time quick. Say who am white man on derblack horse. "

"Me tink MacGreg him come, " replied Tan Barl after a brief survey. "No; me no tink me know. "

Wilmshurst waited inactive. Until the approaching hostile column haddescended from the high ground and the men were deep in the bush, attempt on the part of the Haussas to advance from the ridge wouldresult in the latter's detection. So, holding the men well under coverWilmshurst kept the Huns under observation until it was safe to attempta surprise. 

Long before the extended line of troops had marched into thescrub-laden valley, the subaltern was forced to come to the conclusionthat MacGregor was not only with the enemy, but obviously one of them. As the distance decreased he could make out the man's features, quitedistinctly, and could see him talking volubly with the German officerson either side. 

The Askaris were numerically far stronger than Wilmshurst's platoon, but the Haussas had a great advantage--that of being the surprisingforce. In bush fighting especially this is a decided advantage, sincethe closeness of the ground prevents the troops attacked knowing thenumber or disposition of their opponents, while the moral effect of asudden rush of well-armed and disciplined men upon enemies practicallyunprepared for the onslaught cannot be under-estimated. 

"MacGreg him make for maquisha, " declared Bela Moshi grimly, as hecarefully blacked the foresight of his rifle. 

"Maquisha" in the Haussa language signifies something more thanfinished. A man might say, "I've finished eating, " for example, andyet in a few hours he will be again satisfying his hunger, but"maquisha" signifies finished in the penultimate sense--the finalextermination of a certain person or thing. 

"No, no, Bela Moshi, " said Wilmshurst decidedly. "We want MacGregtaken prisoner. That's important. Pass the word along; tell the menthat there's a month's pay to the Haussa who takes MacGreg alive. "

It was rather a tall order, and Wilmshurst knew it. MacGregor, nowopenly a traitor, would not be likely to surrender in view of the factthat a drum-head court-martial and an ignominious death in front of afiring-party would certainly be his fate. 

Returning his field glasses and confidently snapping the lid of thecase Wilmshurst gave the word to advance in open order. He had decidedupon a position about two hundred yards short of the derelict aircraft, guessing that the still unsuspecting enemy would concentrate upon thatobjective, and thus form a compact and easy target for the Haussas'rifles. 

Naturally concluding that the airmen had chosen the most open stretchof ground available for the purpose of making their landing, Wilmshurstfound that his judgment was sound. Right in the centre of the valleythe scrub was almost entirely absent, the ground being covered withgrass little more than ankle deep in height and absolutely devoid ofcover over a belt of nearly four hundred yards in width. 

Up to a certain point the Huns showed caution, for presently twoAskaris, pushing on ahead of the main body, came into view. That theyexpected no danger was apparent from the fact that they had theirrifles slung. At the sight of the derelict seaplane they stoodstock-still, for it was the first aircraft at rest that they had seen. Then bounding across the intervening stretch of grass they wanderedround and round the machine, jabbering and pointing out to each othervarious parts of the aeroplane that particularly struck their attention. 

The shrill blasts of a whistle diverted their thoughts into anotherdirection. The officer in charge of the Askari column had signalled tothe scouts to advance and examine the scrub beyond the place where theseaplane stood. 

Like well-trained dogs the two native soldiers obeyed, and with theirrifles still slung they hastened towards the position occupied by thealert Haussas, passing between two clumps of cacti behind which werehiding Tari Barl, No Go, Double-headed Penny and two more of No. 1Section. 

The Haussas let them pass. Unsuspicious the Askaris proceeded untiltheir movements were hidden from their friends by the interveningscrub, then with hardly a sound the five lithe and muscular Waffs leaptupon them. 

Before the startled men could even utter a gurgle they were lying flaton their backs, unable to move hand or foot, while a hand laid overtheir mouths and a keen-edged bayonet laid across their throats warnedthem that silence was the only alternative to sudden death. 

Accepting the former choice the prisoners were bound and gagged, andtaken a hundred yards or so into the bush, a Haussa mounting guard overthem to make sure that the wily Askaris did not slip their bonds. 

Wilmshurst's anxiety was now the thought that the main body would notemerge from the bush, since the two scouts were not able to signal thatall was well. Several minutes passed, but still the German troopsfailed to debouch from the scrub. 

A stealthy footstep behind him made the subaltern turn his head. Tohis surprise he saw Bela Moshi rigged out in the uniform and equipmentof one of the captives. 

"Me give Bosh-bosh de word 'Come on' one time quick, sah, " heannounced. "Me know how. "

Wilmshurst did not think fit to enquire how the resourceful sergeantacquired the information. There are times when an officer does wellnot to question his subordinate's actions. 

"Very good, carry on, " he whispered. 

Standing in a gap between two clumps of bushes Bela Moshi, grasping hisrifle a few inches from the muzzle, held the weapon vertically abovehis head moving it to and fro five or six times. 

The decoy signal was almost immediately answered by the appearance ofthe main body of the Askaris and with them the three Europeans, whowere still mounted. 

Wilmshurst let them approach until the foremost Askaris were within ahundred yards of the seaplane. They were now in no semblance of order, surging impetuously forward, their officers towering head and shouldersabove the throng. 

Sharp and shrill rang out the subaltern's whistle. A volley, crisp andclear, burst from the line of admirably concealed Haussas, then eachman "let rip" as fast as he could withdraw, and thrust home the bolt ofhis rifle and bring the weapon to his shoulder. 

It was such a tremendous surprise that for a moment the Askaris, savethose who dropped, stood stock still. Then, panic-stricken, they brokeand fled, the German officers setting them the example. 

As the so-called MacGregor wheeled his horse Bela Moshi, who hadwithheld his fire, saw his opportunity. At five hundred yards he senta bullet crashing through the devoted animal's head. Like a stone thehorse dropped, throwing its rider to the earth. 

By some means the dried grass took fire, the flames crackling androaring as they spread with great rapidity, fortunately away from thebroken-down seaplane. Through the whirling clouds of smoke could befaintly discerned the backs of the fugitives, many of whom dropped asthey ran with a Haussa's bullet betwixt their shoulder blades, whileremorselessly the devouring element made its way in the direction ofthe place where the traitor had fallen. 

So complete was the demoralization of the foe that Wilmshurst had nowno hesitation in ordering an advance at the double. Although theGerman levies still greatly outnumbered the Haussas the former had--inTommy parlance--"the wind up properly, " and numerical superiority nolonger counted. 

With fixed bayonets the platoon swept forward. Over the path of thefire the Haussas rushed, the still glowing embers failing to deterthem, their bare feet notwithstanding. Yelling and shouting theypursued their foes, sweeping aside all isolated attempts at resistance, until the remnants of the hostile column were driven more than twomiles from the scene of their surprise. 

It took considerable efforts on the part of the non-commissionedofficer to make the highly-elated Haussas desist from pursuit, butWilmshurst knew too well the rashness of a prolonged chase throughdifficult country. Retiring, picking up wounded and prisoners as theywent, the Waffs re-formed on arriving at the open belt of ground wherethe brilliant little victory had commenced. 

By this time the scrub was well alight, fanned by the strongsouth-easterly breeze. The fire was also working against the wind, butthe concerted efforts of the Haussas prevented it approaching thederelict aircraft. 

In vain a search was made for the traitor who was known to the Haussasas MacGreg. His horse, surrounded by half a dozen badly-charredcorpses, was discovered, but of the rider there were no signs. Reluctantly Wilmshurst was forced to come to the conclusion thatfortune had favoured the recreant, and that under cover of the densesmoke the fellow had either crawled away or else had been carried bysome of the Askaris. 

CHAPTER X

PREPARATIONS

"Well, sergeant; how many casualties?"

Bela Moshi, wearing a broad smile, saluted. 

"Brass Pot, him head-bone blown inside out, " he replied, as cheerfullyas only a Haussa can when reporting losses amongst his comrades. "Nimshi Pali, him no good--maquisha. Dat all dead, but plenty muchHaussa hurt--so many. "

He indicated by means of his fingers that fifteen were more or lessseriously wounded, a fairly heavy toll of the sixty odd men who hadparaded that morning. Nevertheless, the sacrifice had not been made invain, for a numerically stronger force had been completely routed withthe loss of eighteen left dead upon the field, and thirty-eight woundedand unwounded prisoners, together with fifty-nine Mauser rifles, which, for want of transport, were smashed after the bolt action of each hadbeen removed. 

Having taken proper precautions against a surprise counter-attack, although such a step was unlikely in view of the demoralization of thedefeated force, Wilmshurst directed his attention to the object of theexpedition--the saving of the seaplane. 

West African natives are as a rule good carpenters and blacksmiths, andthe Haussas were no exception. Under Wilmshurst's directions they setto work to dismantle the machine, removing the planes as carefully andexpeditiously as a party of crack mechanics from the Royal Air Forcefactories. One of the floats was badly smashed, but the other waspractically intact except for a small jagged hole in the three-plymahogany. 

In a couple of hours the machine was ready for transport across fivemiles of bush country, although, fortunately, the ground was fairlylevel. 

A pair of mountain gun wheels on a broad base-line had been brought forthe purpose, and the chassis, engine included, was rested on the axle. Relays of men steadied and propelled the heavy load, others armed withaxes and entrenching spades going on ahead to clear the path. Otherparties transported the floats and planes, while advance and rearguards and flankers were thrown out to guard against a possiblesurprise, while an escort had to be provided for the prisoners. 

With frequent halts it was not surprising that the rate of progress wasroughly one and a half miles an hour, and it was close on sunset whenthe rescued seaplane arrived at the banks of a small river, where theWaffs, having struck camp in the vicinity of Gwelba, had only justmarched in. 

Colonel Quarrier was delighted with Wilmshurst's report and personallycomplimented him upon the way in which he had accomplished thedifficult task with which he had been entrusted, and also the brilliantlittle action, which was quite unexpected. 

"Pity you didn't either plug or capture that worthless scoundrelMacGregor, " he remarked, for there was now no doubt about the utterfaithlessness of the supposed Rhodesian. "A man like that will causemore trouble than a dozen machine-guns. I suppose, in the course offormer conversations with him, you did not detect any trace of aforeign accent?"

"None whatever, sir, " replied Dudley. 

"Or mannerisms?"

Again the subaltern replied in the negative. 

"I can only hope, " continued Colonel Quarrier, "that the fellow isn'tan Englishman. It is just possible that he is of German nationality, and that long years of residence either in Great Britain or thecolonies has enabled him to totally suppress his Hunnish accent andtraits, although it is almost an impossible matter to eradicate hissympathies for his kultured Fatherland. 'Once a German, always aGerman, ' you know. "

Having been dismissed by his colonel, Dudley was questioned andcongratulated by Captain Manners, the adjutant, who also expressedregret that the so-called MacGregor had contrived to escape capture. The members of the "Lone Star Crush" were boisterously warm in theircongratulations, chaffing the subaltern as well as they knew; butWilmshurst, alive to the mannerisms of his brother-officers, took theirfacetious remarks in good part. 

The two officer-airmen added their thanks and good wishes. They werestill too weak to walk any distance and had to be carried inroughly-constructed "dhoolies" by the Haussas. Their relief onlearning that the seaplane was safely alongside the river was great, especially when they were promised that the work of repairing thefloats would be put in hand forthwith. 

"Your C. O. Evidently wants to get rid of us, " declared the pilotsmiling. "A crippled 'bus hampers the mobility of the column. Weheard that a runner came in just now before we left Gwelba, with thenews that an ammunition column and details are on their way up-country. We've sent down for more petrol, so things look rosy--thanksprincipally to you. "

"That's nothing, " expostulated Wilmshurst. "Merely returning good forevil--that's all. "

"'Returning good for evil, '" repeated the pilot. "I don't understandyou. "

"Let me explain, " continued Dudley, laughing at the thought ofdisillusioning the airmen. "A day or two ago my platoon were posted onthe M'ganga road. We were just settling down nicely to give Fritz awarm welcome when you two fellows started dropping bombs on us. "

"Good heavens!" ejaculated the observer. "We thought we were strafinga mob of Huns. No damage, I trust?"

"You would have heard of it before now if there had been, " repliedWilmshurst. "The nearest one just dusted some of my men, that's all. We couldn't get you to see that we were a Haussa platoon, and I had anice old job keeping my men in hand. They wanted to take pot shots atyou. By the bye, what made you chuck it--clear out after dropping onlya few bombs?"

"Our last, fortunately for you, " said the pilot. "I say, what a frost!An' we claimed four direct hits, didn't we?"

"We did, " corroborated the other dourly. "We seriously considered theidea of giving you a couple of trays of Lewis gun ammunition, Mr. Wilmshurst. You'd be surprised how difficult it is to distinguishbetween British and German native troops from any height. By the bye, did you find a mahogany box in the fuselage? Good! it containsundeveloped photograph plates. One we took of your position. I'llsend along a print when we get back to our base. It will interest you. "

The Waffs were to remain in camp for three days, pending the arrival ofthe convoy. Even had the latter not been expected the Haussas weretemporarily rendered immobile by the presence of the crippled seaplaneand her crew, and also by the number of prisoners. The captive Askariswere subjected to a strict examination, with the result that it wasdiscovered that Robert MacGregor was really a German, and a person ofsome official capacity, since he was on friendly terms with the Huncommandant, while an Askari sergeant gave the traitor's name with greatdistinctness, Ulrich von Gobendorff, adding that the German used tohave charge of a fortified post at Twashi in the Narewenda Hills. 

"That's not so very many miles from the Rhodesian border, " thoughtWilmshurst, as he made a note of the name in his pocket-book. "Iwonder if we are ever likely to operate in that district?"

Other information given by the prisoners fixed the position of a Germanentrenched post held by three native regiments and a handful of whites, at M'ganga, under the command of von Lindenfelt. 

"M'ganga? I thought this was M'ganga, " exclaimed the puzzled adjutant, referring to a map. "Ask the prisoner how far he marched and in whatdirection before he was captured?"

The man having replied, Captain Manners was able to locate the spot. On the German-inspired maps it was shown as a place, whereas, accordingto the Askari's description M'ganga was a fairly extensive table-land, precipitous on three sides, while on the fourth the ground descended ina series of slight terraces to a broad but shallow river, fordable at adozen places, within a distance of a couple of miles. 

"If only the beggars will stand, " exclaimed Colonel Quarrier, "theplace will be well worth going for. With our small force a turningmovement seems rather a tall order. Of course, if we can get in touchwith the Pathan regiments at Kilmoro--and there's a detachment ofRhodesian Light Horse, too, I believe. "

"Yes, sir, " agreed the senior major. "If we can co-operate--cannot wesend a runner, sir? He'll be back before the ammunition and a supplycolumn comes in. "

In quick time the repairs to the seaplane were completed, and the craftmoored afloat in a wide expanse of the river. Owing to the difficultcountry, where an aeroplane fitted with landing-wheels would be at aloss to find a suitable spot to alight, a seaplane stood a betterchance, owing to the presence of several wide rivers, and here the SeaService machines of the Royal Air Force scored over the Germanaircraft; most of which were already _hors de combat_, and could not bereplaced owing to the lack of material and the cutting off of GermanEast Africa from practically all communication without. 

On hearing of the proposed attack upon von Lindenfelt the naval airmen, who were rapidly recovering from the effect of their arduous andperilous trek, volunteered to remain and co-operate. For observationpurposes and machine-gunning the Huns they would be able to renderyeoman service, while, when their offer was promptly accepted, theingenious officers set to work to manufacture bombs. 

These missiles, rough and ready in construction, were none the lessformidable, while the moral effect was a great consideration. The"eggs" consisted of small sacks filled with cordite, both loose and incartridges, while by manipulating the fuses of Mills bombs, so that theperiod between release and explosion was increased to six seconds, theimprovised missiles were made to detonate just before reaching theground after a fall of six hundred feet. 

The tempestuous shouts of the Haussas announced the arrival of thetransport column, for food was beginning to run short and the men'srations would have had to have been reduced had not the expected storesbeen speedily forthcoming. There was petrol, too, enough for a seriesof flights over a distance of two hundred miles; while to the intensesatisfaction of officers and men big Jock Spofforth rejoined theregiment, looking none the worse for his encounter with the lioness, except for the still raw scars on his brawny arms. 

"Just in time for a dust-up, I find, old man, " was his reply toWilmshurst's greeting. "You've been lucky already, I hear? Where'sthat MacGregor chap? Is he still with the battalion?"

Briefly Dudley explained what had happened. 

"Skunk, " muttered Spofforth. "So we've been taking a dirty Hun underour wing, so to speak. I don't mind admitting now that I didn't thinkmuch of the blighter when he pushed off and promptly fainted. "

"But I scooted, too, " interrupted Laxdale, "and left you to tackle thelioness. "

"I also plead guilty, " added Danvers. 

"But with this difference, " rejoined Spofforth: "you were unarmed andhe had a rifle. Ah, well; you fellows have stolen a march on me, andI've a lot of leeway to make up. When do we move against M'ganga?"

"As soon as we are in touch with the Indian crush, " replied Danvers. "It may be tomorrow. "

"Hurrah!" exclaimed Spofforth. "Let's hope it will be a decent scrap, and that von Gobendorff will be present at the meeting. "

CHAPTER XI

THE SNIPER

It was not until thirty-six hours later that the Waffs moved out ofcamp for the purpose of delivering a surprise attack upon vonLindenfelt's position. From N'gere a strong force of Pathans, accompanied by a mule mountain battery, was marching in anorth-easterly direction to cut off, if possible, the Huns' retreat, while the Rhodesian Light Horse was operating between M'ganga and theKarewenda Geberge in order to keep contact with any German troopslikely to attempt to reinforce von Lindenfelt's garrison. To stillfurther encompass the hostile position a force of Belgians wasapproaching from the westward. Even if these resolute and energetictroops failed to be in for the actual fighting, they would mosteffectually round up any stragglers, who would otherwise contrive toescape to the hinterland, where strong bands of Huns still maintainedguerrilla tactics. 

Almost as soon as it was light the seaplane rose from the surface ofthe river and flew westwards to note the respective dispositions of theother troops operating against M'ganga. In the absence of wirelessColonel Quarrier could receive the airmen's report only by means of awritten message dropped from the seaplane, while before the stormingtroops were in position the airmen would have to return to theirtemporary base, replenish petrol and then fly off to bomb vonLindenfelt's stronghold. 

Progress was slow as far as the Haussas were concerned. Although therewere no indications that the Huns expected an attack so promptly theyhad made certain preparations. The only approach from the south-eastwas by means of a narrow path through well-wooded and undulatingcountry, and for miles from M'ganga the wily Germans had beset the roadwith pitfalls and booby-traps. There were caltrops by thehundred--sharp-pointed spikes stuck into the ground, their tipscunningly hidden by dead leaves--which were responsible for a fewcasualties as the Haussas' bare feet came in contact with the barbs. These devices the blacks countered by means of implements shaped likeexaggerated hoes which they pushed in front of them. 

Other defensive measures were heavy logs suspended by boughsoverhanging the path by means of light but strong wires. An unwaryfootfall would release a catch which in turn would cause the baulk oftimber to crash to the earth. There were old muskets, charged tobursting point with slugs and nails, which were fired by similardevices, while on three occasions fougasses, or land-mines, wereexploded, fortunately without causing casualties. The Haussas, not tobe outdone by their Askari foes, had taken the precaution of drivingoxen well in front of the advance guard, and although six beasts hadbeen killed by infernal machines, the troops succeeded in crossing thebelt of forest with a loss of five men slightly wounded. 

"The explosion of those fougasses has knocked on the head our chancesof delivering a surprise attack, " remarked the company commander toWilmshurst. "It will be a frontal attack against a prepared foe. Let's hope the Huns won't bolt. "

"That's the general opinion, sir, " replied the subaltern. "The men aresimply longing for a scrap. Fritz has thrown away one good chance. Hemight have played Old Harry with us if he had posted a couple ofcompanies in ambush in the forest. "

"I wasn't sorry to get clear of the place, " admitted the major. "Ahundred men might have been lying in wait in those underglades and ourflankers wouldn't spot 'em. Hullo, here's the seaplane. "

Flying at a comparatively low altitude the machine approached rapidly"down wind. " In the clear atmosphere the concentric red, white, andblue circles that indicated its nationality were visible from a greatdistance, while presently the features of the observer could bedistinguished as he leant over the side of the fuselage. 

Presently a small object to which coloured streamers were attached wasdropped from the seaplane. Greatly to the curiosity of the blacks, whowatched the descending message with undisguised wonderment, the objectdid not explode on reaching the ground as they fully expected it to do;and it was with an absurd display of caution that Tari Barl and BlueFly went to receive it. 

"The C. O--sharp!" ordered Wilmshurst. "Don't hold the thing like asnake--it won't bite. "

Tari Barl departed on his errand, and returned presently, looking verycrestfallen. 

"What's wrong, Tarry Barrel?" asked the subaltern. 

"Colonel him call me one time fool, sah, " he reported. "Him tell youcome see him all in dashed hurry quick. "

"I wonder what Tarry Barrel has been doing?" thought Dudley as hehastened to report to his C. O. 

Colonel Quarrier was laughing, so were the adjutant and the regimentalsergeant-major. In the former's hand was the unrolled scrap of paperon which the airmen's message was written. 

"It's all right, after all, Mr. Wilmshurst, " said the colonel. "Yourrunner is a bit of a blockhead, as I think you'll admit. Evidentlyunder the impression that these coloured ribbons were a present to mefrom the skies, he handed over the streamers, while the case containingthe writing, which had been soiled when it fell to the ground, hecarefully cut off and threw away. As you are here you may as wellinform your company commander the news: the --th and --th Pathans arein their prearranged positions. There will be a twenty-minutes'bombardment by the mountain battery in conjunction with an attack bythe seaplane. At four forty-five the Waffs will advance in three linesto the assault. That's all, Mr. Wilmshurst. "

The subaltern saluted and withdrew. It was now three o'clock and anhour and three-quarters were to elapse before the battalion went intoaction. 

"Looks as if we've cornered the beggars, Mr. Wilmshurst, " remarked themajor, when Dudley had communicated the C. O. 's message. "I supposethey are still there, " he added. 

The two officers searched the crest of the hill through theirfield-glasses. So elaborate and skilful were the enemy defences thatthe powerful lenses failed to detect any trace of the rifle pits andsand-bagged parapets of the trenches. Nor were any troops visible. The top of the table-land looked as deserted as an unexplored land inthe Polar regions. 

Wilmshurst lowered his binoculars. He was about to make some replywhen to the accompaniment of a shrill whistling sound his helmet waswhisked from his head, falling to the ground a good ten feet from wherehe stood. 

For some minutes the two officers regarded each other, the majoranxiously the other whimsically. 

"Hit?" asked the major laconically. 

"No, sir, " replied Wilmshurst. 

"Jolly near squeak, " continued the other. "I think we'll choose alittle less exposed position to resume our observations. "

Dudley retrieved his helmet. A couple of clean-cut holes marked theentry and exit of a bullet, the missile having missed the subaltern'shead by a fraction of an inch. 

"We've drawn their fire, sir, " he exclaimed. "They are still there. "

"A sniper at eight hundred yards, I should imagine, " observed thecompany commander. "A jolly good shot for a Hun. We'll try our luckagain. "

Making their way to the depression in the ground where the Haussas of"A" and "B" Companies were lying, the two officers set a couple of mento work to rig up a dummy soldier. When complete the effigy was slowlymoved so that from the hostile position it gave the appearance of aHaussa brazenly and defiantly moving out in the open, while a dozenofficers swept the ground on their front with their field-glasses totry to detect the faint flash of a sniper's rifle. 

A puff of smoke rose from behind a bush at a distance of half a mile, and almost immediately following the sharp crack of a rifle a bullet"knocked spots" off the effigy. 

Without hesitation twenty or more Haussas let fly in the direction ofthe puff of smoke. 

"What are you aiming at, men?" shouted the major. 

The score of blacks grinned unanimously. In their minds they had nosuspicion but that they had acted promptly and efficaciously. 

Again the dummy was held aloft, and again the same thing happened. 

"I've spotted him, sir!" exclaimed Wilmshurst. "Caught sight of theflash about fifty yards to the right. Fritz, old sport, you'reexposed. "

While the riflemen were keeping up a hot fire upon the bush that theysupposed was concealing the sniper the company-commander ordered BelaMoshi to turn a machine gun upon the position that Wilmshurst hadspotted. 

Before twenty-four rounds had been let loose a man sprang three feet inthe air, and fell inertly upon the ridge that had but imperfectlyprotected him. 

"Dead as mutton, " reported Wilmshurst, after bringing his glasses tobear upon the ill-starred Hun. "He nearly had me, though, " hesoliloquised, tentatively fingering the double perforation in hishelmet. 

There was no lack of volunteers to examine the sniper's lair. Regardless of the risk of being potted at by other enemy riflemen BelaMoshi, Tari Barl, and Spot Cash crept forward, taking advantage ofevery available bit of cover. 

In twenty minutes the Haussas returned, reporting in characteristicallynative terms that the German's head had been literally riddled with theburst of bullets from the Maxim. They brought his rifle andammunition, his field glasses and a small electric battery. Inconnection with the latter wires were run from the sniper's lair to thebush from which the puffs of smoke had been seen. Here small chargesof black powder had been placed so as to be exploded from a safedistance and thus deceive the Haussas as to the rifleman's actualposition. The Hun was a bit of a strategist, but he had overreachedhimself. It was the dense smoke from the black powder that had givenhim away. Had he used the so-called smokeless powder the Haussas mighthave expended hundreds of rounds without discovering the cheat. 

Wilmshurst examined the weapon that had so nearly done him in. It wasan improved Mauser, bearing the German Government proof mark and thedate 1917, and was fitted with the latest approved type of telescopicsight, while on the muzzle was fixed a small metal cylinder thateffectually silenced the report. 

"That's strange, sir, " he remarked to the major. "We distinctly heardthe report. "

"We did, " agreed the company commander. "I cannot understand it unlessthe Boche for some reason fired several rounds with the silencerremoved. If so, why?"

Before the discussion could be carried further a dull, booming soundcame from behind the table-land of M'ganga, while at a little heightbehind the German position appeared the mushroom-like cloud of whitesmoke as the shrapnel burst. 

"Good!" ejaculated the company commander, replacing his binoculars. "We've had the orchestral selection; the curtain rises on the FirstAct. "

CHAPTER XII

THE STORMING OF M'GANGA

A loud whirring noise audible above the distant cannonade announcedthat the seaplane was passing overhead to participate in the strafingof Fritz. Of necessity the airmen had to fly high in order to avoidbeing hit by the British shrapnel, but the summit of M'Ganga offered abig target and the bombs were soon dropping merrily upon the trenches, dug-outs, and storehouses of von Lindenfelt's position. 

In a very few minutes the table-land was enveloped in a piebald pall ofsmoke, yet no return fire came from the two 4. 1 inch guns that wereknown to be with von Lindenfelt's column. Apart from the burstingshells and bombs there were no evidences of movement in the Huns'stronghold--a circumstance that caused the Waff officers to wonderdeeply and mutter under their breath. 

"Fix bayonets!"

The sharp click of the weapons being fixed to the rifles rattled alongthe line of excited Haussas. Then in open order the blacks hurriedforward to take cover. Nor did any hostile bullet seek to check theirprogress. Without hindrance the black and khaki steel-tipped linegained a pre-arranged position within four hundred yards of the base ofM'Ganga plateau. 

Here the men were halted to take a "breather" before essaying the finaltask, while the company officers foregathered, consulting theirsynchronised watches. In another ten minutes--five minutes before thetime for the bombardment to cease--the Haussas were to start on theirdesperate frontal attack. 

"How goes it?" enquired Wilmshurst of Jock Spofforth, as the giantstrolled leisurely across from the platoon. 

"Rotten, " admitted the other candidly. His big fingers were tremblingslightly as he applied a match to a cigarette. "First time going intoaction, you know. It's the hanging about business that gets on afellow's nerves. "

"You'll be all right when the advance sounds, " declared Dudley. "Ifelt like it once. "

"Simply had to stroll over and have a palaver with you, " continuedSpofforth. "I was afraid that my men would spot my hands trembling. Hope the Boches are standing. Hang it all! Why did nature let me growto this height?"

Spofforth was laughing now. The mental tension of the seeminglyinterminable wait was over. 

"Two minutes more--hop it, old man, " cautioned Wilmshurst. "The bestof luck. "

The whistles sounded. Almost immediately, as if by some uncanny meansthe distant gunners saw that the infantry were in motion, the strafeceased. Overhead the seaplane still circled. The bomb-dropping partof their task completed the airmen lingered to watch the advance, andif occasion offered to assist the storming troops by means of theirLewis gun. 

The natural features of the face of the plateau made the ascent adifficult one. Often the Haussas had to climb upon their comrades'shoulders, and in return help them to surmount an awkward terrace; yeteverything considered the triple line was well maintained, the blacksneeding no encouragement from their white officers, who, perspiringfreely in every pore, were well ahead of their men. 

The summit at last. Well-nigh breathless, Wilmshurst, although by nomeans the first, drew himself over the rocky edge of the table-land tofind the ground plentifully sprinkled with barbed wire entanglements. Although this form of defence had been badly knocked about byshell-fire there was still sufficient wire, either in tension or elsein snake-like coils, to offer serious impediment to the advance. 

Suddenly the opening shot of a ragged, ill-aimed fusillade burst from aline of zig-zagged trenches a hundred yards from the edge of theplateau. A Haussa, in the act of assisting a comrade, sprang high inthe air, and fell, his hands in his death-agony clutching atWilmshurst's ankles. 

Without knowing what trapped him the subaltern measured his length onthe ground. Probably the fall saved his life, for a corporalimmediately behind him was shot through the chest. 

"Prone position--independent firing, " shouted the major, realising thatit was a forlorn hope for a few men to charge. Until a sufficientnumber of bayonets was on the plateau a forward movement was out of thequestion. 

Coolly the Haussas threw themselves on the ground, taking advantage ofevery scrap of cover. To the accompaniment of the constant whip-likecracks of the rifles other blacks clambered upon the fairly levelground until three companies were in readiness to continue the advance. 

Again the whistle sounded. The crowd of prostrate Haussas rose totheir feet, yelling and shouting as they lurched forward with levelledbayonets. Men fell almost unheeded as the Waffs forced their waythrough the gaps in the barbed wire, and swept right and left to avoidthe shell craters. By this means platoons became intermingled, whilecompanies overlapped each other, but steadily the onward rush continued. 

The Askaris in the first line of trenches did not wait. The sight ofthe tips of the glittering bayonets was too much for their courage. Their fire ceased; they turned and scurried over the parados, followedby bullets from the Haussas and met by bullets from their Germantask-masters, who had taken the precaution of stiffening their nativelevies with a lead ration should they show signs of weakening. 

In this predicament the Askaris halted and faced about. Already theHaussas were astride the first trench and interlocked with the nearmostof their foes, the while a German machine gun was playing on thecombatants with the delightful impartiality that a Hun displays to savehis own hide. 

Temporarily the Haussas' charge was checked. The machine gun wasplaying havoc with them. Then, suddenly, the ominous tic-tac ceased, while overhead came the pop-pop-pop of the seaplane's automatic gun. It was more than the Huns had bargained for. Some dived intounderground retreats, others bolted, showing a clean pair of heels tothe Askaris, who were now resisting valiantly. 

In the mêlée Wilmshurst found himself attacked by three muscularnatives, who for some reason did not attempt to fire, but fought withtheir rifles and bayonets. 

One the subaltern shot with the last cartridge in his revolver. Hurling the empty weapon at the head of the second--which the Askariavoided by adroitly stepping aside--Dudley parried a bayonet-thrustwith the sole weapon at his disposal, a "loaded" trench-stick. As hedid so the second native closed, delivering a thrust that drove thebayonet through the left sleeve of the subaltern's tunic. Before theman could recover his weapon, Wilmshurst brought the heavy stick downupon his fingers. 

Dropping his rifle the Askari gripped the subaltern's wrist with hisuninjured right hand, while a third native ran in to drive his bayonetthrough the young officer's chest. 

A deafening report sounded close to Wilmshurst's ear; he felt the blastof a rifle shot on his cheek, but he had the satisfaction of seeing theAskari topple forward and bite the dust. 

Wilmshurst settled the third antagonist very effectively by deliveringa crashing blow with his left upon the point of the Askari's chin. Theman relaxed his grip and dropped. 

"Thanks, Bela Moshi!" exclaimed Wilmshurst, catching sight of thesergeant as the latter thrust a fresh clip of cartridges into hismagazine. 

The struggle in this part of the line was now over. The Haussas wereengaged in firing shots into the dug-outs to intimidate their Germanoccupants. Fifty or sixty prisoners were being disarmed and roundedup, while the wounded had to be given attention. 

Wilmshurst, picking up his revolver and reloading it, looked around forhis brother subalterns. There was big Jock Spofforth in the act ofputting a first-aid dressing round a bullet wound in Danvers' arm, while Laxdale was sitting on the ground and nursing his left foot. 

There was no time to make enquiries just then. It was satisfactory tolearn that all the officers of "A" Company were alive; those who werewounded were making light of their hurts. On the right flank thestruggle was still in progress, and until all resistance was at an endWilmshurst had no time for other things. 

Acting upon his company commander's orders the subaltern took charge ofthe task of clearing out the dug-outs, while the remaining platoons of"A" and "B" Companies re-formed, and hastened to the support of theircomrades who were still hotly engaged. 

"If we only had a supply of bombs!" thought Dudley as he watched theineffectual attempt of his men to induce the occupants of a deepshelter to surrender. 

Half a dozen Haussas were gathered round the entrance firing volleysinto the cavernous depths, and punctuating the fusillade byquaintly-worded threats of what they would do if the Bosh-bosh didn't"show hand up one time bery much quick. "

Bidding his men be silent, Wilmshurst demanded the surrender of theGermans in the dug-out. Hearing a British officer's voice one of theHuns replied defiantly:

"We no surrender make to a schweinhund Englander. We food haf for sixweek, an' you cannot hurt us. "

"Can't we, by Jove!" replied Wilmshurst. "Sergeant, bring along thatbox of bombs. "

"Bery good, sah, " said Bela Moshi, grinning as he hurried away a fewsteps on a phantom errand. 

"Now, then, " continued the subaltern. "I give you one minute to makeup your minds; if you refuse to surrender we'll blow you to blazes. Itake the time from now. "

Half a minute passed in absolute silence as far as the vicinity of thedug-out was concerned, although three or four hundred yards away thedesultory firing still continued. Three quarters of a minute: therewas a shuffling sound from the subterranean retreat and the gutturalvoice of several Huns engaged in excited debate. 

"Fifty seconds!" announced Wilmshurst. "Ten seconds more. "

"Do not t'row der pomb; we surrender make!" implored a voice. 

"Out you come, then; one at a time, " ordered Dudley. 

With his revolver ready for instant action should the Huns display anysigns of treachery the subaltern awaited the appearance of hiscaptives, while the Haussas stood by to back up their young officershould necessity arise. 

The first to appear was the junior lieutenant, looking very scared. Finding that nothing occurred to cause him physical hurt he held hisarms high above his head, at the same time saying something to hisunseen companions. 

Then came Hauptmann von Argerlich, pale-faced under his sun-burntcomplexion. He had good cause to feel afraid, for he was by no meansuncertain that the British possessed a record of his deeds--deeds thatmight be worthy of the German arms, but certainly would not be regardedwith any degree of favour by nations with any respectable code ofhonour. Poisoning wells, for example, was quite a favourite andpleasant Hun trick when the perpetrators of the outrage were all ableto place a safe distance between them and their foes; it was quiteanother matter when the officer responsible for the dastardly deeds wasa prisoner of war. 

Three more Germans followed, and then came a full-faced, double-chinnedPrussian, wearing an order on his cotton drill uniform. In his hand heheld a sheathed sword, the scabbard of which had already beenunfastened from the slings. 

"I am Commandant Hendrich von Lindenfelt, " he announced as captor andcaptive exchanged salutes. "I make surrender and claim der treatmentdue to der brisoners of war. "

"That'll be all right, " rejoined Wilmshurst. "Please keep your sworduntil the colonel decides--I mean, until you are taken to ColonelQuarrier of the Nth Waffs. Are all the German officers here?"

"Yes, " replied von Lindenfelt. "All except those who killed andwounded are. "

"I am anxious to find a certain individual known as von Gobendorff, "continued the British subaltern. "Can you give me any informationconcerning him?"

The oberst seemed considerably taken aback. 

"I do not know any person so called, " he replied after a slighthesitation. 

"Think again, Herr von Lindenfelt, " prompted Wilmshurst. "The man wewant is von Gobendorff, otherwise known as Robert MacGregor, and isknown to have belonged to the forces under your command. "

Von Lindenfelt shook his head, this time resolutely and defiantly. 

"I do know not, " he declared. 

It was practically useless to press the question. There were, Wilmshurst argued, other means of finding out. 

Setting a guard over the prisoners Dudley sent a file of Haussas toexplore the dug-out. In less than a minute the corporal returned. 

"Number one big hole, sah, " he reported. "Me no find no one time manin no place. "

As a result of this somewhat mystifying intelligence Wilmshurst enteredthe dug-out. Descending a flight of a dozen wooden steps he gained theante-room, a space fifteen feet in length and about seven in breadth. It was absolutely proof against the heaviest gun employed in the GermanEast campaign, while, as a safeguard against bombs that might be lobbedinto their retreat, the door of the second room was protected by a wallof sandbags backed with massive slabs of African teak. 

By the aid of flaming brands held by the blacks Wilmshurst was able tomake a rapid, but none the less complete examination of the shelter. Evidently it was the headquarters dug-out, judging by the smashedtelephone, the pile of broken instruments, and the heap of paper ashthat littered the floor. 

At the subaltern's order the blacks prodded the walls with theirbayonets and hammered the floor with the butt ends of their rifles, butno suspicion of the existence of a concealed "funk-hole" was to betraced. 

"Precious little here, " commented Wilmshurst. "I'll have to keep theplace open for the colonel's inspection, I suppose. "

Regaining the open air he posted a sentry over the entrance and, collecting the German prisoners, awaited the arrival of the C. O. 

By this time all resistance on the summit of M'ganga was over. Away tothe north-east came occasional reports of rifle-firing, showing thatthe Pathans and the Rhodesian horse were engaging the fugitives. 

The one fly in the ointment was the escape of von Gobendorff. Therewas, of course, the possibility that he had been shot or had contrivedto slip away during the action. In the latter case he had the cordonof troops to take into consideration; but knowing the wiliness of theman and the fluency with which he spoke English, Dudley began to feelrather dubious concerning the Hun's apprehension. 

Otherwise the brilliant little affair was highly successful. Practically the whole of von Linderfelt's staff had been either killedor captured; most of the Germans in the firing-line had shared asimilar fate, while the surviving Askaris were either captured or hadescaped in small numbers through the lines of the encircling forces. 

Von Lindenfelt had not counted upon the use of light artillery againsthis strong position, but the fire of the mountain batteries, assistedby the seaplane's bombs, had proved terribly destructive. Of the4. 1-inch guns mounted for the defence not one remained intact, theirdestruction materially helping the Waffs in their frontal attack. Aconsiderable quantity of military stores also fell into the hands ofthe victors, much of the booty being found upon examination to havebeen sent to German East Africa during the last three months. 

As a result of the operation a large hostile column operating in theneighbourhood of the Rovuma had ceased to exist. There were otherroving forces still in the district, and against these the Haussas wereto operate in conjunction with other detachments. 

"It's all right when we catch Fritz sitting, " remarked Spofforth. "Thetrouble is that he strongly objects to be caught. We'll have to chasehim from the Rovuma to Kilimanjaro and back before we square up thisbusiness. "

"And, even then, corner him in Cape Town, " added Danvers facetiously. "I can see myself spending my seventieth birthday on this job. "

CHAPTER XIII

THE FUGITIVE

On the evening of the capture of M'ganga a white man, fatigued anddesperately hungry, stood irresolute upon the banks of the Kiwa River, roughly forty miles from the scene of the Waffs' successful operations. 

It would have been a difficult matter to recognise in the jaded man theonce well-set-up individual known in certain quarters as RobertMacGregor; nor was there much resemblance between the fugitive and theGerman secret service agent, Ulrich von Gobendorff--yet the man wasnone other than he whom the officers of the Haussa regimentparticularly wished to lay by the heels. 

By a series of hair-breadth escapes von Gobendorff had succeeded inmaking his way past the Pathan infantry picquets. For twenty minuteshe had crouched up to his neck in the miasmatic waters of a forestpool, with thousands of mosquitoes buzzing round his unprotected head, while a patrol of the Rhodesian Light Horse halted within twenty yardsof his place of concealment. 

And now, with a strip of linen tied round his head, a ragged cottonshirt, a pair of "shorts" that were hardly any protection from thethorny cacti, and a pair of badly-worn "veldt schoen" as the sum totalof his clothing and footgear von Gobendorff awaited the fall of nightin the depths of a tropical forest. 

His limbs were covered with scratches that were causing him intensepain and irritation; his face was swollen under the attacks ofmosquitoes, until his bloodshot eyes were hardly visible above hispuffed up cheeks. Unarmed with the exception of an automatic pistol, he was about to brave the dangers of a night 'midst malarial mists andwild beasts of an African forest. 

As the sun sank von Gobendorff collected a heap of wood and leaves andkindled a fire. For the present he judged that he was practically freefrom pursuit. In any case he would take the risk of lighting a fire. It was not likely that British patrols would be wandering through thedense tropical vegetation during the hours of darkness. 

Under the wide-spreading branches of a baobab the Hun was able to makeone fire serve his purpose. Ordinarily he would have lighted three orfour at a distance of five or six yards from each other, and thus foundcomparative immunity from the attacks of lions and hippos, but thebaobab--it reminded him of a certain incident when he was "attached" tothe Haussas--was able to protect both rear and flank from the voraciousassaults of any four-footed creatures. 

As the fire blazed brightly von Gobendorff consumed his last ration--asmall cube of highly-concentrated food, which he had in his possessionon the development of the attack on M'ganga. Throughout his flight, although tormented with the pangs of hunger, he had resolutely refusedto draw upon his scanty commissariat. And now it was eaten: for therest of his journey he would have to depend upon his wits to obtainfood. Rather grimly he reflected that an automatic . 302, although anefficient "man-stopper" in a _mêlée_, was not to be compared with arifle as a means of procuring food. 

Although inured to exposure in a tropical country von Gobendorff wasfeeling severely the effect of the sun upon his insufficientlyprotected limbs. In the rapidly cooling air his blistered skin wasstretched so tightly that every movement of his neck, arms and legsgave him intense pain. The mosquitoes, owing to the glare of theburning wood, had ceased their attacks, but the effect of theirprevious onslaughts was greatly in evidence. 

Slowly and carefully lying down on a pile of broad leaves the Hun triedto fall asleep, but in vain. Racked in every limb, his head throbbingas if it harboured a rapidly working piston, he endured--waiting forthe dawn that would give him no respite from his torments. 

Presently the denizens of the forest began their nocturnal activities. In the sluggishly-flowing river hippopotami floundered noisily. Elephants crashed through the brushwood making their way to the water, while at intervals rhinoceri and bush-cows charged blindly past thefiercely burning fire. Von Gobendorff was in a big game hunter'sparadise, but he failed utterly to show enthusiasm at the prospect. 

At intervals he crawled to his reserve stock of fuel to replenish thefire, knowing that if he allowed the comforting and protecting flame todie out he stood an almost certain chance of falling a victim to afour-footed foe. Once a large bush-cow thundered almost through theblazing logs, bellowing frantically as a panther with its claws deeplydug into the huge brute's hide was remorselessly tearing at the throatof its prey. 

Monkeys, too, huge simians looking human-like in the dull red glare, came shuffling from the shadow of the neighbouring trees to gazefixedly at the unusual sight of a fire. Muttering, chattering andgesticulating they watched the Hun's bivouac for several minutes untilthe sudden spring of a large cat-like animal claimed one victim andsent the rest of the monkeys flying for their lives. 

With the first streak of dawn the nocturnal Bacchanalia ceased. VonGobendorff, who had longed for the break of day in order to resume hisflight to a supposedly safe refuge in the Karewenda Hills, foundhimself unable to resist the sleep of utter exhaustion, and as the lastfaint wreath of pale grey smoke rose from the dying embers he droppedinto a deep slumber. 

He awoke to find the glade bathed in brilliant sunshine. The sun wasalmost overhead, while he himself was lying in the dense shadow cast bythe overspreading branches of the baobab. Through an opening in theotherwise dense foliage he could see the river rippling in the dazzlinglight, while partly hauled up the bank and partly resting between thereeds was a canoe--a dug-out of about twenty-five feet in length. 

"Himmel!" muttered the German. "This is indeed good fortune. "

The means of crossing the broad Kiwa River was at his command. He hadmade up his mind on the previous evening to risk a horrible death byattempting to swim the stream. He had seen what appeared to be logsdrifting silently with the eddying current--logs that on the approachof danger would reveal themselves in their true characters, for theriver swarmed with hippopotami. 

Von Gobendorff was on the point of issuing from his retreat when thesound of voices and the rustling of the brushwood warned him that theowners of the canoe were returning. 

Listening intently he recognised the dialect as that of the Birwas--anative tribe occupying a considerable tract of the hinterland. He knewthe language well--he had the Hun's typical capability of acquiring aknowledge of foreign tongues. 

Presently the blacks came in sight--two lithe and stalwart nativesarmed with primitive bow and spear. One man carried the hindquartersof a gnu, the other had a brace of birds dangling from the haft of hisspear. 

With an effort von Gobendorff pulled himself together and strode boldlyinto the open. 

Halting, he signed imperiously to the Birwas to approach. 

The blacks obeyed promptly. Experience had taught them to carry outthe behests of their German masters with the utmost celerity. Withevery indication of abasement they approached and awaited the whiteman's orders. 

Von Gobendorff pointed to the still warm embers of the fire. 

"I am hungry, " he said. "Get me something to eat and drink, and besharp. "

While one of the Birwas cut strips of flesh from the gnu and spittedthem on skewers, the other placed more wood on the fire and coaxed itinto a blaze. The grilling operation in progress the fire-tender ranto the canoe to return with a couple of small gourds of water, somedried berries somewhat resembling coffee beans and a flat cake ofmealie bread. 

Von Gobendorff soon discovered that the natives had been serving in theGerman outpost at G'henge, a position overrun and captured by a Sikhbattalion about three months previously. They had, they declared, beenvery well treated by their new masters. 

The fugitive smiled grimly, immediately wincing as the movement of thefacial muscles gave him a thrill of pain. It was evident, he reasoned, that the Birwas had mistaken him for an officer of the British forces. 

Hardly able to wait until the meal was prepared von Gobendorff turnedto and ate with avidity, washing down the food with copious draughts ofhot and far from palatable beverage. Having refreshed he ordered theblacks to hide all traces of his bivouac and made them carry him to thecanoe. He realised how imperative it was that he should cover histracks, and by no means the least important measure was to prevent anyprints of his veldt schoen being discovered on the moist marshland onthe river bank. 

"Take me to Kossa, " ordered von Gobendorff, naming a small militarypost on the Kiwa about thirty miles down the river, and at a pointwhere the stream made a semi-circular bend before running in asouth-westerly direction to join the Rovuma. 

For the first time the Birwas demurred. 

"There are strong rapids a little distance down stream, " declared one. "We are not skilled in working a canoe. Can we not take you across toour village, where there are plenty of men who will paddle you toKossa?"

"My word, " said von Gobendorff, "is law. "

To add greater emphasis to his words he produced his automatic pistol. The argument was conclusive. With every indication of fear the twonatives pushed off, and seizing the paddles they propelled the unwieldycraft down stream. 

Compared with his previous mode of travelling the Hun found the journeybordering almost upon the luxurious. He would have preferred acushion, a double helmet and a sun-umbrella with a canopy thrown in, but reflecting that he was fortunate in being able to tackle the Kiwawithout having to resort to swimming, he endured the glare withcomparative equanimity. 

Concerning the perils of the rapids he decided to take his chances. Itwas just possible that the Birwas had lied, hoping to deter him fromhis purpose. That they were fairly experienced in the art of canoeingwas evident by the way in which they skilfully avoided the numeroushippopotami, their broad-bladed paddles entering the water without thefaintest suspicion of a splash. 

Whenever, as frequently happened, the canoe passed a native village vonGobendorff, no doubt with the loss of a certain amount of prestige, took up a position at full length at the bottom of the canoe, strictlywarning his boatmen that they were to maintain absolute silence as faras his presence was concerned. 

The canoe had barely passed a small collection of huts when the twoBirwas began to jabber vociferously, pointing at an object a hundredyards ahead. 

"Why this noise?" demanded von Gobendorff, who understood the cause ofthe conversation. "You have passed dozens of 'river-cows' before?"

"This one is awake and furious, " replied one of the natives. "Wesought to keep to the bank, and the animal has seen us. "

The Hun sat up and drew his pistol. A brief glance on either handshowed that there were no signs of escape by running the canoe ashore. The banks were here quite twenty feet in height, precipitous and toppedwith dense vegetation. There was deep water close to land, while inmid-stream a mud-bank just showed above the swirling current. 

"Go on!" he ordered. 

The men plied their paddles vigorously. Although theheavily-constructed canoe was incapable of any great speed, and wasalso undermanned, the commotion of the paddles and the frantic shoutsof the two blacks made up for the lack of manoeuvring powers. Thehippo dived. The canoe shot past. 

Von Gobendorff breathed freely, but he was too premature. Thehippopotamus reappeared amidst a smother of foam. Its wide-open jawsclosed up on the gunwale of the dug-out. 

The canoe listed dangerously. The Birwas still further endangered itsstability by standing upright and raining absolutely ineffectual blowswith their paddles upon the armour-plated head of the amphibian. Theair in the vicinity of the heeling craft was thick with spray andflying fragments of woodwork. 

Raising his pistol von Gobendorff placed the muzzle within an inch ofthe hippo's right eye, and fired two shots in quick succession. Then, without waiting to observe the effect, he put two bullets into theanimal's left eye. 

With a stupendous jerk that dipped the badly shattered gunwale underthe water the hippo relaxed its grip and disappeared. Whether mortallywounded or not there were no means of ascertaining, but the brute wasseen no more. 

Throwing their paddles into the bottom of the canoe the two natives, crouching on the uninjured side to keep the jagged hole above thesurface, plied their gourds frantically in order to get rid of thequantity of water that had poured over the gunwale. This task havingbeen completed von Gobendorff noticed with a certain amount ofapprehension that the freeboards betwixt the edge of the gaping holeand the water was less than four inches. 

In the excitement of the encounter the Hun had overlooked the fact thatalready the canoe was within the influence of the rapids. The Birwashad spoken truly--there were cataracts; what was more there was now nomeans of avoiding them. 

The banks on either hand were still steep and precipitous, while, undermanned, the heavy canoe could not be propelled against the stream, the speed of which exceeded five miles per hour and was steadilyincreasing as the rapids drew nearer and nearer. 

The thunder of the foaming water could now be heard distinctly, as thecanoe, held in the inexorable grip of the swirling torrent, swayedtowards the danger. The two natives realised their peril. Their blackfaces were suffused with an ashy grey hue; their eyes were wide openwith fear. 

"Paddle backwards!" ordered von Gobendorff, knowing that to attempt toturn the canoe would mean both loss of time and increased chances ofbeing immediately swamped. 

With every muscle strained to its utmost capacity the Birwas strovedesperately to back up-stream. Anxiously von Gobendorff kept his eyesfixed upon a mark in the bank. For a few minutes he watched--then hemuttered curses under his breath. The canoe was slowly yet surelylosing ground. He was fully aware that, apart from its damagedcondition, the cumbersome craft stood no possible chance of escape inthe maelstrom-like eddies of the rapids, unless by sheer good fortunecombined with the skill of the two natives the canoe could be made toavoid the jagged rocks between which the waters of the Kiwa rushed. 

Suddenly the German caught sight of a huge teak-tree that, having beenuprooted, was trailing over the banks. It was a faint chance, but vonGobendorff decided to risk it. 

Raising his hand he pointed towards the tree-trunk. Already the roarof the water made it impossible for the Birwas to hear him speak. Themen nodded and again began to ply their paddles vigorously, keepingclose to the border between the main stream and a back-eddy by thispart of the right bank. 

With a quick turn of his broad blade the bowman urged the canoe's bowsdiagonally against the mass of timber. Caught by the full force of thecurrent the dug-out swung round, crashed against the tree and, listing, was immediately swamped by the inrush of water. 

Von Gobendorff leapt to safety. With cat-like agility he swarmed upthe inclined bank. Here he stood and waited, watching the efforts ofthe two natives to save themselves. 

The bowman had succeeded in getting astride the massive log and wasendeavouring to extricate his companion from the peril that threatenedhim, for the other had been thrown out of the canoe and was pinnedbetween the tree and the side of the water-logged craft. 

In spite of the Birwa's most strenuous efforts the trapped man wasunable to extricate himself from the vice-like grip, for edges of thejagged hole in the canoe's side were pressing hard against his thigh, while the canoe itself, forced against the tree-trunk by theswiftly-running current, could not be moved in spite of the combinedefforts of the two blacks. 

A third man would have made all the difference. The trapped Birwaraised his eyes appealingly to the white man, but von Gobendorffstirred not so much as a little finger. 

The Hun, having no further use for the natives, was merely awaiting thecatastrophe that would effectually cover his tracks. Without the needof further aid from the Birwas he was now within measurable distance ofthe Karewenda Hills. Another six hours ought to find him in at leastthe temporary shelter of the German fortified post of Twashi. 

With a sardonic expression on his face von Gobendorff waited andwatched. For a full five minutes the grim struggle was maintained. The trapped Birwa's strength was fast failing. Already greatlyexhausted by his strenuous work with the paddle he was rapidlycollapsing under the strain. 

Suddenly he relaxed his grip. The water-logged canoe dipped, and wasswept under the tree, taking with it the doomed native, whose lastdespairing cry was drowned in the roar of the rushing river. For a fewmoments the surviving Birwa remained kneeling on the inclined mass oftimber, trembling in every limb, then, slowly and with every sign oftemerity he began to make his way up the trunk to dry land. 

Raising his pistol the Hun fired straight at the man's head. TheBirwa's arms collapsed, he fell at full length upon the rounded mass oftimber, and, slipping sideways, toppled inertly into the foamingtorrent. 

"Hamba gachle!" exclaimed von Gobendorff, using a Zulu expression thathe had picked up in his many and diverse wanderings through South andCentral Africa. "Dead men tell no tales, and you were in my way. "

Then, recharging the magazine of his automatic pistol, the Germanturned, and, setting his face towards the north-west, strode rapidlytowards the Karewenda Hills. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

ON THE TRACK

"Mr. Wilmshurst, I shall require you to proceed on special service, "said Colonel Quarrier. 

"Very good, sir, " replied Dudley promptly, and awaited the C. O. 'sinstructions. 

It was the evening of the fall of M'ganga. The prisoners had beencollected and were about to be sent under escort to Kilwa. Fully underthe impression that he was to be detailed for this monotonous butnecessary duty Wilmshurst had reported himself to his colonel, but tohis intense satisfaction he soon found that such was not the C. O. 'sintention. 

"Concerning this MacGregor-Gobendorff fellow, " continued ColonelQuarrier. "It seems as if he has slipped through our fingers. We havebeen robbed of much of the satisfaction of capturing the position onthat account. The Rhodesian Light Horse patrols are all back andreport no luck as far as the capture of von Gobendorff is concerned, and the same applies to the Indian troops. From some of the prisonerswe learnt that the fellow slipped away during the preliminarybombardment, and that he was not mounted. I have arranged with ColonelMopesson, of the Light Horse, for a mounted patrol to be sent inpursuit, and since it is desirable for some one to identify the Hun--itsounds like counting our chickens before they are hatched, by thebye--I propose that you accompany the Rhodesians. "

"Yes, sir, " replied the subaltern. 

"Very good. You have half an hour to make preparations, " resumed theC. O. "Take a batman with you--a man who can ride well. You willrejoin your battalion at Kossa in three days' time, circumstancespermitting. "

Wilmshurst saluted and withdrew to make his brief preparations. Havinggiven Tari Barl instructions to pack his kit the subaltern sent forSergeant Bela Moshi. 

"Find me a man who can ride well, " he said. 

A broad grin overspread the Haussa non-com. 's face. 

"No go for look, sah, " he replied. "Me know one time quick. Good man;him ride like de wind. "

"Then bring him here, " continued Wilmshurst. 

"Him here, sah--me, Bela Moshi. "

"I didn't know that you could ride, " remarked the subaltern dubiously, fancying that Bela Moshi in his desire to accompany him was inventing afairy tale concerning his equestrian abilities. 

"Me one-time groom in Freetown, sah, " declared Bela Moshi. "Me lib forride any old hoss till him bust. "

"I'll try you, " announced Wilmshurst. "If you are wasting my time lookout for squalls. "

At the lines where the horses were picketed the Haussa picked out apowerful-looking brute--a "salted" Cape horse which had shownconsiderable temper at previous times. 

Vaulting upon the animal Bela Moshi rode it barebacked, urging it at agallop and finishing by taking a formidable obstacle in the shape of acactus-bush. 

"How can do, sah?" he asked. 

"Good enough, " replied Wilmshurst. "Cut off and pack your kit. Wehave only ten minutes. "

Well within the time specified the Haussa was ready for the trek, hiskit consisting of a blanket, rifle and ammunition, a haversack and hiscooking utensils. In addition he carried his master's water-filter anda light waterproof tent weighing together with the socketed poles alittle over two pounds. 

"Good luck, old man!" exclaimed Spofforth, as his brother subalternrode off to join the patrol. "Kindest regards to MacGregor when youmeet him. Tell him how awfully delighted all of us will be to see him. "

Wilmshurst's new comrades were all men of the Rhodesian farmer type, well set-up, sturdy, independent and resourceful--a band of chumsvoluntarily taken from their homesteads to render them immune frominvasion by tackling the Hun on his own ground. 

All were splendidly mounted on horses inured to the miasmic climate, "led" animals carrying their necessary equipment. Each man knew how totake care of himself. He knew only the elementary principles of drill, but was none the less a very tough proposition for a Hun to tackle. Skilled in woodcraft and travelling, able to cover great distances withthe minimum of fatigue, and capable of going on short rations withoutloss of efficiency the Rhodesians were ideal men for the work on hand. One and all had a score to wipe off; though few, if any, had fallen inwith von Gobendorff they deeply resented the Hun's audacity in posingas a Rhodesian, while those who were of Scots descent and bore Scottishnames were highly indignant at the idea of a German adopting thehonourable and ancient cognomen of MacGregor. 

Through the far-flung Pathan outposts they passed and rode into thenight. Scores of Askaris, who had thrown away their arms, signifiedtheir willingness to surrender. Some were questioned concerning theflight of von Gobendorff, their replies confirming the reports of theprisoners taken at M'ganga; and the surrendered men were ordered toreturn and give themselves up to the Indian troops, since the mainobjective of the patrol was the pursuit of the spy, von Gobendorff. 

That night the patrol bivouacked a short distance from a native kraal, the inhabitants of which gave them a warm, demonstrative and noisywelcome, at the same time providing them with a goat, plenty of mealiesand water. Enquiries elicited the information that a party ofvillagers had seen a white man hurrying through the bush, andfortunately had not given any indication of their presence. Accordingto the natives' report the fugitive was making in a north-westerlydirection. 

"He'll have his work cut out to cross the Kiwa, " declared the sergeantof the patrol. "The river's pretty full just now and swarms of hippos. I doubt whether he'll tackle it at night. "

"In that case we'll boot and saddle an hour before sunrise, " declaredWilmshurst. "My man, Bela Moshi, will be able to follow the spoor likea cat. .. . Oh, yes, light as many fires as you like. Von Gobendorff istoo far away to see the glare. "

The night passed quietly. Although there were wild animals prowlinground they kept a respectful distance. Men in pairs took turn inkeeping watch, their comrades lying wrapped in blankets, with theirfeet towards the fire, each with his loaded rifle by his side. 

After a good meal, consisting of roast goat's-flesh, millet bread andhot chocolate, the trek was resumed, the Haussa following the spoorwith the sagacity and skill of a sleuth-hound until it was light enoughto enable the Rhodesians to follow up the trail. 

After a distance of five miles had been covered the patrol halted inperplexity, for, seemingly from nowhere another spoor joined that ofthe one they were following. There were distinct imprints of two menwalking--one wearing veldt-schoen, the other the heavy marching bootsupplied to the German colonial units. 

The latter was of slightly recent origin, as witnessed by the fact thathere and there the footprints of the boots had partly obliterated thoseof the veldt-schoen. 

"It strikes me we've only just tumbled on the right spoor, " declared aRhodesian. "Of the two I should imagine von Gobendorff was wearingmilitary boots. I suppose you didn't happen to notice what he worewhile he was attached to the Waffs?"

"Boots and gaiters, " replied Wilmshurst. "But, of course, that wassome time ago. "

"And boots are scarce in this show, " rejoined the other tentatively. "When a man gets used to wearing a certain pair he's not likely todiscard them in a hurry. I'll bet that is von Gobendorff's trail. "

"And the other?" asked Dudley. 

"A nigger might be wearing veldt-schoen, " suggested another Rhodesian. "Perhaps he looted them, and in his natural vanity, decided to put themon instead of slinging them round his neck. In my experience I findthat a native 'boy' will wear veldt-schoen, but he'll draw the line atboots. "

"In any case, " remarked Wilmshurst, "the two spoors lead the same way, so we'll carry on. "

Half a mile further the tracks separated, the older ones continuingstraight on, those of the boots breaking away to the left. 

After a brief debate the pursuers decided to follow the latter spoor. This they followed for another four miles until it vanished on anexpanse of hard, sun-baked ground. 

"We're close to the Kiwa, " announced one of the patrol, who had pushedon ahead for fifty yards. "There's a kraal over yonder, and I can seethe water between the trees. "

Into the native village the pursuers rode, to hear a tale of woe fromthe headman. An armed German had passed through not an hourpreviously. He had demanded food and native beer; he had made noattempt to pay for the articles, and out of sheer mischief had set fireto a hut. Commandeering a canoe he had compelled the natives to ferryhim across the river, and the four blacks who manned the craft had justreturned with the news that he had gone into the bush. 

"What was the German like?" asked a Rhodesian, who spoke the languageof the natives with the utmost fluency. 

The headman began to give an elaborate and detailed description, but itwas soon evident that the pursuers were on the wrong track. 

"Dash it all!" exclaimed Wilmshurst impetuously. "We've lost thefellow--what's that, Bela Moshi?"

"Go ober dem water one-time quick, sah; den you catch Bosh-bosh as himgo for run away. "

"That's a smart idea, " declared Dudley, never backward in giving creditfor other persons' ideas. 

"Quite good, " agreed the section commander of the patrol. "Over we go;the horses will have to swim. "

Borrowing a couple of canoes the pursuers stepped into the cumbersomecraft, four men in each had their loaded rifles ready to fire at anyhippos that might attack the horses; the others, grasping the reins ofthe well-trained animals, guided them across. 

The passage of the Kiwa--which was here about one hundred and twentyyards in breadth--was performed without mishap, in spite of the factthat the current ran at a speed of two knots, for the spot where thecrossing was effected was two miles below the rapids that had all butclaimed von Gobendorff as a victim. 

Just as the second canoe was running aground one of the natives uttereda cry of surprise, and pointed to a water-logged dug-out driftingbroadside on down stream. It was a prize well worth having, andwithout waiting to put Wilmshurst and the rest of the passengers ashorethe blacks paddled out and secured the derelict. 

"Golly, sah!" exclaimed the Haussa sergeant. "Him canoe have one-timeman alive. Now him dead as mutton. "

Lying on the bottom of the canoe with his head raised above the waterwas a native. As the rescuing craft ran alongside the man opened hiseyes. 

The call of humanity having a prior claim to the importance of thepursuit Wilmshurst and the Rhodesians rendered all the aid in theirpower to revive the badly-wounded man. Examination showed that he hadbeen shot at close range by a small-bore high velocity bullet. Themissile had scraped his right ear, and entering at the shoulder hademerged just above the third rib. It was a nasty wound, but withordinary attention it ought not to prove fatal. 

Finding that he was being well treated the injured man recoveredsufficiently to explain what had occurred. There was no mistaking thedescription of his assailant--also another crime had been added to thelist against Ulrich von Gobendorff, that of attempted murder. 

"So the blighter is making for Twashi, " remarked Wilmshurst, consultinghis field service map. "That's well up in the Karewenda Hills. We mayhead him off even yet. "

Mounting, the patrol, their energies quickened by the evidence of thislatest Hunnish atrocity, set off at a gallop across the comparativelyopen country betwixt the Kiwa and the base of the Karewenda Hills. Woebetide von Gobendorff should he be spotted by one of the lynx-eyedRhodesians. 

CHAPTER XV

RESCUED

It was well into the dry season. As far as the eye could reach lay anexpanse of sun-baked ground dotted with scrub and parched grass, terminating in the rugged outlines of the Karewenda Geberge. In theclear African atmosphere the hills, although a good forty milesdistant, looked no more than ten or twelve miles away. With a powerfultelescope an outpost on the high ground ought to be able to spot thekhaki-clad horsemen as they spurred across the bush. 

The patrol had no immediate intention of following the fugitive'sspoor. Their idea was to cut off his retreat by keeping on a parallelroute until they had out-distanced him, and then, by extending to theright, to achieve their object. It was a game of hide-and-seek on alarge scale--a contest of wits. Around the spot where the Hun wassupposed to be an extended cordon was being formed. It was up to himto break through--if he could, but once detected he stood little chanceagainst a well-mounted patrol composed of some of the crack shots ofRhodesia. 

"We've cut across his spoor, " announced one of the men. "Jones hasjust semaphored through. We've nabbed him this time. "

The order was passed from man to man for the investing horsemen tocontract the enfolding circle. Each man, his rifle ready for instantuse, trotted towards an imaginary centre, the while keeping his eyes onthe alert for signs of the fugitive. 

Then, without warning, a column of smoke, beaten down by the strongnortherly wind, rose from the scrub at a point a good two miles off. In a very short space of time the cloud increased in density of volume, moving with the rapidity of a trotting horse. 

At the signal the patrol closed. The situation was serious, for notonly were the chances of a successful pursuit knocked on the head, butthere was the danger of the men being overtaken by the flames. 

"Start another fire down wind, " suggested one of the Rhodesians. 

"The horses won't stand it, " objected another. "They're getting jumpyalready. "

The man spoke truly. The animals, scenting danger, were becomingrestless. The order was therefore given to mount, and the patrolgalloped back in the direction of the Kiwa River, never drawing reinuntil they reached a ford two miles below the spot where they hadcrossed earlier in the day. 

So swift was the advance of the bush-fire that the scrub on thefurthermost bank was ablaze within twenty minutes of the time when thepatrol recrossed the river, while right and left for miles the groundwas covered with fiercely roaring flames. Clouds of black and brownishsmoke swept across the stream, red hot embers mingling with the eddyingvapour. 

The patrol held their ground, keeping their horses under control byadopting the expedient of covering the horses' heads with blankets. With the possibility of the bush on their side of the river taking firethis was the safest course to pursue short of a forty mile ride acrossdifficult country with the devouring element hard at their heels. 

Mingled with the roar of the flames came the frequent crashes offalling trees, and the hiss of blazing embers as they fell into thewater. The heat was terrific, while at times the smoke was so denseand suffocating that the men had the greatest difficulty to breathe. Elephants, bush-cows, rhinoceri and swarms of smaller animals, stampeded by the flames, plunged panic-stricken into the river, takingno notice of the men as they dashed past them. 

For two hours the ordeal lasted, then, having consumed everything of acombustible nature the fire burnt itself out. Almost miraculously theflames had failed to gain a hold upon the scrub on the nearmost bank. The river had formed the furthermost limit, but across the stream asfar as the eye could reach there was nothing to be seen but an expanseof blackened thorn-bushes, from which a faint bluish vapour rose in thenow still and sultry air. 

"Nothing more doing to-day, boys, " declared the leader of the patrol. "We'll bivouac close to the village and try our luck to-morrow. Groundwill be cool enough by then, I reckon. "

"Von Gobendorff won't stand much chance in that, " remarked another, indicating the devastated ground. "We may find his remains. That'llbe some satisfaction. "

"Unless he started the fire, " added Wilmshurst. 

"But we were surrounding his hiding-place, " declared the first speaker. 

"We believe we were, " continued the subaltern. "It's just likely thatwe missed his spoor, and that he was to windward of us. The fire mayhave started spontaneously, but it's my belief that von Gobendorfffired the grass. "

At daybreak on the following morning the patrol recrossed the river. With a heavy dew still upon the ground the devastated track gave thehorses no inconvenience, although the air was heavy with the pungentsmell of charred wood. In extended order they followed the track whichthe fugitive had been reported to have taken until they arrived at thefurther-most limit of the fire. 

Each man as he closed in the centre made the same report--nothing hadbeen seen of the body of the much-sought-after Hun. 

"We've drawn a blank, it seems, " remarked Wilmshurst. "There's nothingfor it but to carry on until either we overtake him or come in touchwith the enemy patrols. We've a clear twenty-four hours before werejoin our regiment. "

Mile after mile the patrol rode, but not the faintest trace of vonGobendorff's line of flight was to be seen. Whether he was alive ordead was a mystery yet unsolved. 

Towards midday they arrived at a kraal situated in a vast semi-circularexpanse of open ground bounded on three sides by scarps of theKarewenda Hills. The greatest caution was now necessary, the task ofthe patrol, failing von Gobendorff's capture, being to find out whetherthe lower slopes of the hill were held in force or only lightly so. Ifpossible there was to be an avoidance of an exchange of shots withhostile outposts, but in any case the Rhodesians were to withdraw atthe first sign of opposition. 

The headman of the kraal, like most of his kind, was verycommunicative. Already the natives were appreciating the change ofmasters, for under German rule their lot was a hard one, forced labourand scanty or often no remuneration being the order of things. 

He had seen no one answering to von Gobendorff's description, but hegave other information. The Germans were withdrawing their forces to aposition on the northern slopes of the hills, and had already destroyedtwo guns which they were unable to remove from an abandoned redoubtabout five miles to the east of the kraal. He also said that a Germanpatrol escorting a white prisoner had passed along a native path atless than a mile of the village only an hour or so previously. 

Questioned further the headman replied that the prisoner was not a"warrior"--meaning that he was not dressed in military uniform--andthat for several months past he had been kept in captivity in the nowabandoned fort. Several of the villagers had seen him when they wentto dig earthworks for the Huns. In their hurried retirement theGermans had overlooked the fact that they had a prisoner, and thepatrol had been sent back to bring him in. 

"How many men?" asked Wilmshurst, one of the Rhodesians translating thequestion and its reply. 

"Four white soldiers and ten Askaris, O chief, " replied the headman. 

"Good enough, " exclaimed Wilmshurst. "We ought to be able to settlethat crowd and release the prisoner. "

The headman willingly allowed two natives to point out to the patrolthe path which the Huns had taken. A reference to the map showed that, allowing the hostile patrol two hours' start, an ambush could bearranged at a spot four miles distant where the path crossed a spruit. It was unpleasantly close to one of the still occupied enemy outposts, but with quickness and decision the coup ought to be accomplishedwithout much difficulty. 

The native guides, although on foot, had no trouble to keep up with themounted men, and when the latter arrived at the place chosen for thesurprise they found that the Germans were not yet in sight. 

Dismounted and accompanied by Bela Moshi Wilmshurst made his way alongthe side of the track until he came in touch with the hostile party. The Huns, suspecting nothing, were resting. Two Askaris had beenposted as sentries, but they, too, were lax, little thinking that therewas any danger of a surprise. The prisoner was seated at the base of alarge tree, another Askari mounting guard over him. His back wasturned in Wilmshurst's direction, but the subaltern was able to discernthat the unfortunate man was practically bald-headed and wore a thick, straggling beard. 

Up to that moment Dudley had been buoyed up by the hope that theprisoner might be his brother Rupert, but at the sight of the bent andaged figure his anticipations were shattered. 

"We'll have him out of their clutches, at all events, " he soliloquisedas he cautiously signed to Bela Moshi to withdraw. 

Regaining the patrol Wilmshurst explained how matters stood, and adecision was quickly formed to attack immediately, taking advantage ofthe lax state of the hostile party, without waiting for them toapproach the previously selected spot for the ambush. 

Dismounting and leaving their trained horses under the charge of apiquet the men cautiously made their way through the scrub until theywere within eighty yards of the still unsuspecting Huns. 

Extending the Rhodesians took up their desired position on asemi-circular formation, enabling each one to fire should necessityarise without the risk of hitting one of his own party, at the sametime making it almost a matter of impossibility for the ambushed Hunsto break away without being shot down. 

A whistle sounded. Up sprang the curved line of khaki-clad troopers, each man covering one of the enemy with his rifle, while a stern orderto surrender immediately was given to the completely astonished Germans. 

The Askaris obeyed the command without demur, but the Germans were madeof stiffer material. Throwing themselves at full length they graspedtheir rifles. 

It was a signal for the Rhodesians to open fire--and the Huns paid thepenalty. In less than a minute the action was over. The Askaris wereunarmed and ordered to take themselves off, their rifles having beenbroken and the bolts removed. 

Wilmshurst hastened to the prisoner, who at the opening fire had rolledon the ground by the side of a fallen tree. The subaltern found himlying face downwards, unable to rise, his wrists and ankles beingsecured by thongs of raw hide. 

With a couple of strokes of his knife Dudley severed the bonds andassisted the released captive to his feet, for the man was so exhaustedthat he was incapable of standing unsupported. 

"You're all right now, " said the subaltern reassuringly. "Can you sitin a saddle for----"

"Good heavens!--Dudley!" exclaimed the gaunt and haggard prisoner. 

It was Wilmshurst's turn to be dumfounded. He stepped back a pace andlooked the rescued man Intently in the face. Was it possible that thishuman wreck was his once well-set-up and powerfully-built brother?

"Rupert!" he exclaimed dubiously. 

"That's me, " rejoined the other. "Rather, what's left of me. "

"Found an old pal?" enquired the patrol-commander, as the Rhodesianscrowded round the object of their recent operations. 

"My brother, " replied Dudley. 

"Good business, " was the hearty rejoinder. "But we must be moving. We've alarmed every enemy post within five miles of us. "

The patrol hurried back to the spot where they had left their horses, Bela Moshi settling the question of how the physically weakened RupertWilmshurst was to be moved by lifting him in his strong arms. 

"Nothing ob him, sah, " confided the Haussa. "Him weight of one-timeporter load. "

It was an exaggeration of speech on the Haussa's part, for the nominalburden of a Coast porter is roughly sixty pounds, but Rupert's weighthad decreased from a normal "twelve seven" to a little over sevenstones. 

With the utmost dispatch the patrol remounted. Bela Moshi gave up hissteed to "Massa Wimst's brudder" and rode one of the led horses. Insingle file the men retraced their course, maintaining a steady trot. 

As they entered the kraal where the headman had given them suchimportant information they found the natives in a state of agitatedturmoil. The Huns had by some means discovered that these "blacksubjects of his Imperial Majesty the German Emperor" had entertained ahostile patrol, for within twenty minutes of the departure ofWilmshurst and his companions a party of Askaris, commanded by a Germanofficer, had visited the village. By way of punishment half a dozenhuts had been burnt and an indemnity of fifty goats and a hundredlitres of corn demanded, the headman and five other principalinhabitants being seized as hostages. 

So great was the faith of the blacks in the "white soldiers of KingGeorge" that they rose _en masse_, liberated the hostages and drove theAskaris from their village. But the trouble was far from over, fornative scouts reported a concentration of German troops on thesouth-eastern side of the village, while other Askari battalions weredebouching from the north-east, having been hurriedly sent from one ofthe fortified posts on the Karewenda Hills. 

"And so our line of retreat is cut, " remarked Dudley. "Very well;we'll have to fight to a finish. "

CHAPTER XVI

'GAINST HEAVY ODDS

The Rhodesians were men of few words. They were men of action; of thesame blood as the gallant party who, under Major Wilson, fought againstthousands of Matabele until the last cartridge had been fired and thelast man fell with his face to the foe under the keen stabbing-spearsof Lobengula's warriors. 

The enemies that were threatening them were of a worse type. TheAskaris, naturally ferocious, were under German command, and theGerman, whenever he is confident that he is on the winning side, exhibited all the brutality and cruelty of his Hunnish ancestors. Attila was a scourge; his modern descendants are simply imitators who, having the thin veneer of civilisation, combine science with bestialbrutality in their methods of waging war. 

Two of the troopers who were acquainted with the native dialectproceeded to place the village under a rough form of organisation. Inspite of the severe restrictions laid upon the natives by their Germantaskmasters--amongst others they were not allowed to carry arms--theblacks managed to produce long-secreted numbers of spears, bows andarrows and a few antiquated smooth-bore muskets. 

Men were sent into the bush to cut down thorns and sharpened stakes. These were set up in front of the existing stockade, the inner side ofwhich was still further strengthened by earth thrown up from a trenchthree feet from its base. "Panjies" or sharpened bamboos were setobliquely from the foot of the stockade, on the outside, to check arush at close quarters; the stockade itself, forming no protectionagainst modern rifle-fire, was to be used merely as an obstacle, thedefenders seeking cover in the ditch and behind the embankment formedfrom the excavated material. 

Hardly were these preparations completed when the shrill notes of abugle rang out, and a mounted officer, followed by a native orderlybearing a white flag, appeared from the cover afforded by the bush. 

Evidently the Huns had more faith in the Briton's respect for the flagof truce than they had regard for that emblem in the hands of theirfoes, for after a brief pause the officer, finding that his appearancewas not greeted with a volley of rifle-bullets, trotted boldly towardsthe closed gate of the stockade. 

"Halt!" ordered the Rhodesian officer, when the German drew withinaudible distance. "Deliver your message. "

The German, standing in his stirrups, shouted a demand for the instantsurrender of the garrison, promising honourable treatment if the termswere complied with, and stating that the investing troops were fullyaware of the weak numbers of the British patrol. 

"You might have spared yourself the trouble, Herr Offizier, " repliedthe patrol commander. "We mean to stick it. "

"Vat you mean by 'stick it'?" demanded the envoy. 

"To fight it out, " was the grim reply. "Come on; we're ready. "

The German made no further remark to the Rhodesian, but began anharangue in the native dialect, inciting the blacks to turn againsttheir white allies, promising immunity and rewards. 

"Stop that!" shouted the patrol commander sternly, raising his voiceabove the angry murmur of the villagers. "Another word and the flag oftruce will not protect you. "

The Hun scowled sardonically, and out of sheer bravado resumed hisincitement to the natives to surrender. 

Picking up a rifle the Rhodesian took careful aim at the horse's chestat point-blank range. The weapon barked. For a moment neither horsenor rider stirred, then without warning the animal's forelegscollapsed, throwing the Hun headlong in the dust. 

The terrified orderly wheeled, and casting aside the white flag, rodeat full gallop to the shelter of the bush, his hasty and undignifiedretreat being carried out without let or hindrance on the part of thedefenders of the kraal. 

The German officer lay where he fell, the dead steed pinning him downas it lay on its side with its hind, off-side leg rigidly extended atan oblique angle to the ground. Partly stunned by his fall the officertried ineffectually to rise; then after a while he relaxed and laymotionless in the broiling sun with swarms of mosquitoes buzzing roundthe prostrate horse and rider. 

Apart from the advantage of having a prisoner in their possession thecall of humanity urged the defenders to release and bring in theinjured Hun. The barricaded gate was thrown open, and two troopers ranto effect the work of mercy. Even as they bent over the prostrateofficer and dragged aside the animal's carcass a ragged fire burst fromthe bush at a distance of five hundred yards. Bullets ricochetted fromthe dusty ground or whizzed unpleasantly close to the men's ears; butcoolly they proceeded with their task, and, unscathed, regained theshelter of the stockade, bearing their prisoner between them. 

"It's von Bohme, second-in-command of the Kelji Post, " declared RupertWilmshurst. He was too chivalrous to relate the indignities andhardships he had suffered at the hands of this Hun in particular. "They abandoned the post yesterday. Unless I'm mistaken they've acouple of machine guns with them. "

"Any field guns?" asked Dudley anxiously. 

"Not to my knowledge, " replied his brother. 

"Thank heaven for that!" rejoined the subaltern fervently. "Well, howdo you feel?"

"Able to use a rifle, " answered Rupert grimly. 

A heavy hostile fire was being maintained from three sides, the bulletseither flying high--one of the characteristic faults of African nativetroops--or else knocking splinters from the timbers forming thepalisade. The defenders, lying close, made no attempt to reply, forthe attackers were adept at taking cover and offered no target to theformer's fire. Presently, as Rupert Wilmshurst had predicted, came therat-tat-tat of a machine gun, and a swathe of bullets traversed theopen ground in front of the defences, rising until the hail of nickelsimply cut a gap in the palisade like a scythe against the ripe corn. 

Between the huts some villagers engaged in driving their goats to amore secure spot came under the machine-gun fire, two men being killedand four wounded, the herd suffering severely; but these were the onlycasualties, the defenders, both white and black, keeping admirablecover. 

For a quarter of an hour the one-sided action was maintained, thenstill under the covering fire of the machine gun a battalion of Askarisadvanced at the double in company formation _en échelon_. Simultaneously a half-battalion debouched on the opposite side of thekraal. 

Until the stormers came within four hundred yards their advance wascovered by the machine guns (for another had joined in the fray), andconsequently the scanty defenders dare not risk exposure; but themoment the covering fire had to cease lest it should cause casualtiesamongst the advancing troops the Rhodesians opened rapid fire at almostpoint blank range. 

The front attack stopped dead, the Askaris in open order falling inheaps before the accurate fire of the trained Rhodesians. Despite theefforts of their officers to advance the native troops refused tostand. Bolting they were followed by galling volleys until theresumption of the deadly machine-fire compelled the defenders to takecover. 

The rear attack was a more formidable affair, in spite of the fact thatthe enemy force was considerably smaller than that of the frontalassault. Met by fewer rifles, for only a mere handful of white mencould be told off on that side of the kraal, the Askaris contrived toreach the palisade. It was here that the native auxiliaries provedtheir worth, for with stones, arrows and throwing spears they put upsuch a formidable defence that at close quarters these primitiveweapons held their own against the rifles and bayonets of the Germanblack troops. 

For several moments the contest swayed with varying success until moreRhodesians, who could now be spared from the front on which the mainassault had been repulsed, doubled up and made such good use of theirrifles that the enemy broke and fled, leaving behind forty or fifty oftheir number lying dead in front of the stockade. 

"Guess they've had enough, " remarked Rupert Wilmshurst, whonotwithstanding his weak state had played a strong part in the defence. 

"Doubt it, " replied his brother. "Perhaps they won't make anotherfrontal attack while daylight lasts, but when it's dark they'll trytheir luck. "

The hours passed slowly. Occasional bursts of machine-gun firepunctuated the continuous rifle-firing from the men concealed in thebush. It was a prodigious waste of ammunition without any good result, for the white men were too hardened to be shaken by the moral effect ofbullets whizzing overhead, while the native warriors, taking thepattern set by their allies, showed no signs of fear or panic. 

"If we only had a machine-gun, " thought Dudley. "By Jove, I've a mindto have a shot at bringing in one of those brutes after dark. "

He broached the matter to the patrol commander, who gave permission toany of his men to volunteer for the hazardous enterprise. There was nolack of aspirants, for practically every man expressed his wish to takepart in the sortie. Finally the subaltern chose three Rhodesians andhis Haussa sergeant. 

Taking a compass bearing of the position of one of the machine-guns, for the cloud of steam arising from its overheated water-jacketdisclosed its place of concealment, Wilmshurst made a careful note ofthe fact for subsequent use. There was, of course, the possibility ofthe machine-gun being moved as soon as night fell, but that was a riskthat the sallying party must be prepared to chance. 

Darkness came, but the desultory hostile fire was still maintained, thebush being pin-pricked with the vivid flashes from the rifles. It wasnow a nerve-racking ordeal, for more than once the defenders issuedfrom their trench and manned the outer palisade under the erroneousimpression that another attack was developing. 

"It's a jolly good thing for us that they haven't any bombs, " remarkedthe patrol-commander. "I don't fancy our blacks would stand up tothem. By Jove! the villagers have shown any amount of pluck. "

"They know that if the kraal's taken, their lives won't be worth abrass farthing, " rejoined one of the men. 

"Don't know so much about that, " added another. "They had a chance tolet us down and save their hides, but they weren't having any. "

A meteor-like trail of reddish light whizzing through the airinterrupted the argument. Anxiously the defenders watched the courseof the missile, guessing but not knowing exactly what it was, untilwith a crash it alighted upon the palm thatched roof of a hut about inthe centre of the kraal. 

Several men rushed to the spot, regardless of the flying bullets, withthe intent on of tearing away the smouldering missile, but before theycould reach the hut the dull red glow gave place to a vivid bluishflame. The mobile weapon was an incendiary rocket. 

In a minute the hut was a mass of flames, the sparks communicating thefire to the flimsily-constructed buildings adjoining it. 

Strenuously the defenders, both white and black, sought to confine thedevouring element to certain limits by pulling down the huts in thevicinity, but other incendiary rockets followed in rapid succession, while the fire of the machine-guns redoubled in violence. 

The fire-fighters made excellent targets in the fierce light, theirforms being silhouetted against the blazing huts, yet their losses werecomparatively few, for the machine guns were badly laid. Nevertheless, before the men could take cover two Rhodesians were badly wounded, adozen villagers killed and thirty odd seriously injured. 

In the midst of this turmoil Dudley, whose attention was centred uponthe enemy, detected a large body of men deploying from the bush. Simultaneously other formidable detachments advanced upon the kraal onall sides, showing up distinctly in the terrific glare of the burninghuts. To add to the horror of the scene native women and children wereshrieking in terror, and the horses and cattle were neighing andbellowing as they instinctively realised the peril that threatened themfrom the rapidly spreading flames. 

But for the presence of their black allies the troopers would havemounted and ridden straight at their assailants, running a good chanceof cutting their way out by weight of numbers and the speed of theirhorses; but no thought of abandoning the natives to their fate enteredthe heads of their allies. It would be a fight to a finish. 

Leaving the conflagration to take its course every available manhastened to the palisade. Rapid independent fire delayed but failed tocheck the charge of ferocious, wildly shouting Askaris, whose couragehad been worked up by promises of rewards if successful, and direpunishment in the event of failure. Full in the blaze of light thehorde of black faces gave the defenders the impression that they wereconfronting a swarm of demons. 

On both sides rifles cracked, steel crossed steel. Again spears andarrows came into play, while some of the defenders hurled blazingfaggots with great effect upon the German levies. Yells, shouts andshrieks of pain mingled with the rattle of musketry and the roar of theburning huts. 

Both sides fought stubbornly and furiously, but with this difference:the defenders of the kraal were staking their existence upon theresult, the attackers, although under severe penalties in the event offailure, were not confronted with the supreme decision that awaitedtheir foes. 

Taking a favourable opportunity Wilmshurst and his squad climbed overthe palisade at a point where no attack was being made, and dropping tothe ground doubled in the direction of the now silent machine gun. Itwas a daring stroke, as it temporarily weakened the little garrison, where every rifle counted; but in the event of the raid provingsuccessful the possession of the deadly weapon would make all thedifference between victory and defeat. 

Overtaking and avoiding numbers of wounded Askaris and a fairsprinkling of Germans painfully making their way back to their linesthe raiders covered the intervening eight hundred yards in double time. At the edge of the scrub the subaltern halted his men in order thatthey might recover their breath. 

They had discarded their rifles. Dudley and the Rhodesians were armedwith revolvers, Bela Moshi carrying an automatic pistol, formerly thepossession of a now defunct Hun, and a long, heavy, keen-edged kniferesembling the Mexican machete. Each man knew exactly what wasrequired of him, and, what was more, he was capable of carrying it out. 

Creeping through the bush and outwitting a couple of Askari sentriesposted on the right front of the machine gun position the raiders camein sight of their coveted prize. 

The gun team was standing easy chattering furiously, and paying scantattention to the progress of their comrades in the assault. Bela Moshiafterwards declared that they were squabbling over the possession of asmall keg of rum, which was to them a far more important business thanthe attack upon the kraal. Their European non-commissioned officer wasabsent, otherwise the laxity of discipline would not have been takingplace. 

Apparently there were no infantry reserves. If there were, they wereposted at a considerable distance from the machine gun position. Itwas, therefore, expedient to make a surprise attack with fire-arms, since the noise was immaterial as far as alarming the supports, andvery efficacious in throwing the machine gunners into a state ofdemoralization. 

Of the six Askaris forming the detachment five dropped at the firstvolley; the sixth, after first rolling on the ground, sprang into thebush, followed by a couple of shots the effect of which was not known. 

Smartly Bela Moshi picked up the gun and tripod; a Rhodesian corporaland a trooper seized the box containing the ammunition. Then, precededby a sergeant and followed by Wilmshurst and the remaining man, theraiders bore off their trophy. 

Followed by the ineffectual fire of the two sentries the squad doubled. By the sounds in the rear it was evident that the alarm had beencommunicated to the reserves, as the hurried patter of bare feet andthe excited orders of the German section commanders announced that themen were aware of the loss of the machine gun. Musketry fire wasopened upon the retiring raiders, but in the darkness the shots whizzedharmlessly overhead. 

The haphazard fire was, however, taking toll amongst the attackers who, already casualties, were crawling or walking back from the palisade. AGerman officer, hit in the left arm, blundered right upon the capturedweapon and its escort. For the moment he was puzzled, knowing thatorders had been issued for the machine-gun party to remain in theiroriginal position. Then, distinguishing the British uniform, he drew apistol and shouted to the party to surrender. 

"Surrender yourself!" exclaimed the Rhodesian sergeant, raising hisrevolver. 

The Hun's reply was a shot that nicked the lobe of the non-com. 's rightear. Almost immediately the latter returned the compliment, shootingthe German dead on the spot. 

"Sorry, " muttered the Rhodesian apologetically, for he had respect fora brave foe. "You asked for it, Fritz. "

The next instant Beta Moshi stumbled, the subaltern only justcontriving to avoid tripping over his prostrate body. Thinking thatthe Haussa sergeant was hit one of the covering party began to raisethe machine-gun from the ground, but the Haussa was holding it tightlyin his arms. 

Almost overthrowing the Rhodesian Bela Moshi regained his feet, swungthe trophy over his shoulder and resumed his pace. 

The returning party were only just in time. Already a formidablenumber of Askaris had broken through the stubbornly-defended palisade, and by sheer weight were forcing their opponents back. 

Faced by hordes of German levies and with the line of burning hutspreventing further retirement the defenders of the kraal were in a verytight corner indeed. 

CHAPTER XVII

WATER!

In double quick time Wilmshurst's party hurried over the stockade atthe same place where they had clambered out a short time previously. 

Setting the tripod of the captured gun upon the raised bank at the rearof the palisade the Rhodesians fitted a belt of ammunition and promptlyopened fire. Enfilading the attackers the effect of the totallyunexpected hail of bullets was stupendous. The dense masses of Askarissimply melted. Only those nearest to the garrison escaped themachine-gun fire, since it was impossible to traverse further to theright without hitting friend as well as foe. Before the first belt ofammunition had been expended most of the men who had gained a footingin the village were _hors de combat_. 

The assault was by no means over. Strong reserves were thrown into thebreach, taking advantage of the lull in the firing. Working coolly andrapidly the machine-gunners fitted a new belt, but the difficulty nowarose that the weapon could not be trained over the palisade, which, owing to its irregular form, screened the massed assailants. 

Lifting the weapon and resting it upon the top of the stockade BelaMoshi shouted to the corporal to jump on his shoulders. In thisdifficult position the machine-gun reopened fire, but beforetwenty-five rounds had been fired the weapon jammed. 

The gun was served by three men only--the Rhodesian sergeant andcorporal and Bela Moshi. The rest of the party, including Wilmshurst, had hurried off to reinforce the sorely-tried men engaged hand to handwith the Askaris in the breach. Of the three only the corporal knewmuch about the internal mechanism of a German machine-gun, and in theruddy, flickering light his task was greatly complicated. 

Again the weapon was hoisted on the Haussa's broad shoulders. Thistime the mechanism acted without a hitch. The Askaris broke and fled, leaving a third of their number on the ground, while those who hadgained a footing within the kraal lost heart and threw down their arms. 

Nevertheless the danger was by no means over. At two other points thekraal had been entered, the defenders being forced back untiltwo-thirds of the village was in the hands of the foe. Thefiercely-burning huts now formed an effectual defence, the survivors ofthe garrison having concentrated in a space in the form of a segment ofa circle, a portion of the palisade comprising the arc and the line offlaming huts the chord. For the present the barrage of fire wasimpassable, but what would happen when the conflagration burnt itselfout remained a matter for anxious speculation. 

Rhodesians and blacks worked together to dig a trench and construct aparapet. It was a strenuous task, for in order to give as much spaceas possible to the already congested defenders the new defence work hadbeen pushed as far forward as the strength of the flames permitted. The while desultory long-distance firing was indulged in by thediscomfited foe, the bullets pinging against the hard ground or flyingwith a sharp "siss" overhead. 

While this work was in progress the corporal hurried up and addressedWilmshurst. 

"Your nigger sergeant's hit, sir, " he reported. 

The subaltern made his way to the spot where the machine-gun had beenplaced out of the line of hostile fire, since a single bullet might putit out of action. Lying upon the ground with his head propped againstthe ammunition box was Bela Moshi. 

The Haussa was barely conscious. He recognised his young officer andgave a determined but ineffective attempt to smile. Already one of themen had cut away Bela Moshi's tunic, revealing a bullet wound on theright side of the chest. Even as Dudley placed his water-bottle to thesergeant's lips the Haussa's eyes closed and he lost consciousness. 

"What do you make of it?" asked Dudley, addressing the man attending tothe patient. 

"He's as like to snuff it, sir, " he replied. "Can't tell exactly--andit's a tough job to tackle with only a field-service dressing. "

"When was he hit?" continued the subaltern. 

"That's a mystery, sir, " was the answer. "We'd brought the gun undercover--there wasn't a chance of being hit by direct fire, you'llunderstand--and the black seemed to crumple up suddenly. Never said aword, but just pitched on his face. I'll do my level best for him, sir. "

Leaving his water-bottle--and water was a scarce commodity, as thesupply within the kraal had been overrun by the fire--Dudley made hisway to the gap in the palisade, where other units were hard at workdigging a ditch across the exposed opening. Here he came face to facewith his brother, whose left arm was bandaged and in a sling. 

"Copped it, you see, Dudley, " remarked Rupert. "If there's any troubleknocking about I'm bound to stand in. But I guess I did my whackbefore I was knocked out, " he added grimly. "Managed to work off sixtyrounds, and when we started I found myself wondering if I had thestrength to pick up a rifle. "

"What have you got?" asked his brother. 

"Bayonet thrust, " was the reply. "We were jammed up anyhow, but thefellow who gave it me won't try the trick on any one else. Have youany water?"

Dudley shook his head. 

"Sorry, " he replied. 

"Seems a scarcity of it, " continued Rupert. "All the men'swater-bottles are bone-dry, and it's hot work tackling a kraal fire. The niggers, too, are clamouring for water. "

"The fire's burning itself out, I fancy, " remarked Dudley. "Beforedawn we ought to be able to get to the well. Now I must do my whack. "

Taking a spade of native workmanship from the hands of an exhaustedtrooper the subaltern set to work with a will, for much had to be donein a very short space of time. It was a case of excavating underextreme difficulties, for apart from the smoke and heat from theblazing huts bullets were dropping frequently and at random upon thatpart of the kraal still held by the hard-pressed but as yetunconquerable garrison. 

Throughout the rest of the night the enemy made no attempt to renew theassault. With the dawn the worst of the task of shortening the linewas accomplished, and the jaded men threw themselves down to rest, until every available position immune from rifle fire was covered withkhaki and black figures sleeping the sleep of utter exhaustion. 

There was little rest for Dudley Wilmshurst and the patrol-commander. Having visited the sentries they examined the defences in order todiscover if there were any weak points that had escaped notice duringthe hours of darkness. 

With the exception of half a dozen huts every building comprising thekraal was reduced to a heap of charred wood and ashes, from which smokewas rising sullenly in the still air. The stockade adjoining hadshared the same fate, and had it not been for the earthworksconstructed during the night the rear of the defences would have beencompletely open to direct rifle fire. At present the heat of thesmouldering embers was too great to allow any attempt to procure waterfrom the well that was situated almost in the centre of the kraal, close to the site of the headman's hut. 

The captured machine gun was still under cover, ready to be rushed toany point where an attack might develop, but the trouble thatconfronted the team was the fact that the water in the jacket hadevaporated and no more was at present procurable. The supply of rifleammunition, too, was running perilously short. In view of theliability of the machine gun to jam after a few rounds, Wilmshurstwould have had no hesitation in using the cartridges from the belt hadthe gun been a Maxim. But here he was beaten, for the difference inBritish and German small-arms ammunition makes an interchangeimpossible. 

The next best thing was to arrange existing stocks, so that a fewtroopers had plenty of . 303 ammunition. The others, supplyingthemselves with rifles and cartridges taken from the hundreds of Germandead, were then in a position to give a good account of themselvesshould the enemy again attack at close quarters. 

Having completed his present duties Wilmshurst made his way to the hutwhere Bela Moshi had been taken after his wound had been dressed. Thebuilding, consisting of bamboo walls and palm-leaf thatch, had beenconverted into a hospital and made bullet proof by piling up earthagainst the sides to a height of about six feet. Above that thebamboos and the roof were riddled with bullets, making it a hazardousbusiness for any one to stand upright. 

In the limited space were two Rhodesians suffering from gunshot wounds. Almost every other man of the patrol had been hit, but one and all madelight of their injuries, and after receiving attention had resumedtheir places in the defence. Over thirty villagers had been badlywounded, but these were receiving the attention of their fellows, since, for some unexplained reason, they were reluctant to have theirwounds dressed by their white allies. 

"Going on famously, sir, " announced the Rhodesian corporal, who, havingplayed a gallant part in the defence, had returned to his errand ofmercy. "I've extracted the bullet; it had lodged only a quarter of aninch under the skin and close to the right of his backbone. I don'tfancy the lungs are touched. He'll pull through if any of us do. "

"That's great!" exclaimed Wilmshurst, overjoyed that his devoted Haussasergeant stood a good chance of recovery. "You ought to have been adoctor, corporal. "

"I was very near it, sir, " was the reply. "Had two years at Bart's andthen chucked up the idea and came to Rhodesia. But this is somewhatremarkable; what do you make of it, sir?"

The corporal held up for inspection the bullet that had narrowlyescaped putting an end to Bela Moshi. 

"Automatic pistol bullet, by Jove!" exclaimed the subaltern, handlingthe piece of nickel. 

"Yes, sir, " continued the corporal, "and the Haussa has been mutteringwhile he was coming to. Putting two and two together, so to speak, Ifancy he stopped the bullet that grazed our sergeant's ear when we werebringing in the gun. "

"Ah, yes; Bela Moshi did fall, but he was quickly on his feet again, "remarked Wilmshurst. 

"With a bullet that had all but just passed completely through hisbody, " added the Rhodesian. "And after that he acted as a platform--hehad a man standing on his shoulders for nearly a quarter of anhour--and only collapsed after the attack had been broken. There'svitality and pluck for you, sir!"

"And if we come out of this business alive I'll see that Bela Moshi'scase is reported to the proper quarter, " declared Dudley. 

"The only thing against him is the want of water, " said the corporal. "I'd risk getting plugged for the sake of a couple of bottles of water. How about the well, sir?"

"We're having a shot at it as soon as possible, " replied the subaltern, and picking up his water-bottle, he left the hut. 

The urgency of the matter decided Dudley. If humanly possible he meantto make the attempt forthwith. A glance at the still smoulderingdébris told him pretty plainly that it was a dangerous if notimpossible undertaking, but for the sake of his Haussa sergeant thesubaltern determined to procure the precious fluid. 

He sought out his brother, but Rupert was sound asleep. Rupert was theonly person he wanted to inform of his projected expedition, but thatcourse was denied him. 

With the bottle slung across his shoulder and a native jar--holdingabout a gallon--in each hand, Dudley leapt into the trench and scaledthe parapet before the few men who were in the vicinity were aware ofhis intention. Then drawing a deep breath, like a diver about to makea plunge, he dashed into the belt of smoke-laden air. 

At every pace his boots kicked up showers of white ashes. The heatpenetrated the thick soles, it singed his hair and scorched his faceand hands. He felt himself wondering why he was such a fool as to tryconclusions with a mass of hot embers . .. Why wasn't he content to waitanother two hours or so, when the heat would have greatly decreased. Supposing he lost his bearings in the smoke and couldn't find the wellafter all?

These and a dozen other deprecatory thoughts flashed across his mind ashe stumbled onwards. He had had but a brief knowledge of the plan ofthe kraal previous to the fire. He remembered that the well stood inthe centre of a fairly open space. There, at any rate, would he find acomparatively safe oasis in the desert of hot embers. 

"By Jove, that was a narrow one!" he soliloquised as a bullet--one ofmany shot at a venture--whizzed dangerously close to his ears andknocked up a number of small fougasses as it ricochetted in the embers. 

He wanted to breathe. Already the air was on the point of beingexhausted in his lungs, yet he durst not gasp for breath. Anothertwenty yards . .. Or was it forty? He was hardly sure of hiswhereabouts. .. . Mentally he enquired if he had been making a detourinstead of keeping in a straight line. Maintaining direction in a hazeof smoke was far more difficult, he reflected, than in a fog, especially when there was a time limit fixed for the performance. 

Almost before he was aware of it Wilmshurst literally blundered upon anopen expanse where the short grass had been burnt off close to theground. Surrounded by a barrage of bluish vapour that rose fromirregular mounds of débris, the subaltern was able to breathecomparatively fresh air. 

Ahead was the well, its windlass of hard teak charred but otherwiseuninjured. It was a different case with the rope. The fibre hadsmouldered badly; it would be unwise to attempt to raise the heavybucket by it. 

Cutting adrift a length of the coir rope the subaltern bent it to theneck of one of the jars and drew up the vessel full of liquid. Thewater was loathsome in appearance, its surface being covered with ashand fragments of charcoal of various sizes. Prudence, as taught bylong months of practical experience on the Coast, urged the youngofficer to resist the desire to slake his burning thirst. No waterunless boiled and filtered can be drunk by Europeans without graverisks of deadly disease. But Wilmshurst now threw caution to the winds. 

With avidity he filled the joined palms of his hands with the brackishand otherwise unpalatable liquid and raised it to his lips. He drankdeeply, unmindful of millions of unseen germs in his almost franticefforts to relieve the pangs of his parched throat. 

Then completing his stock of hardly-gained water Wilmshurst turned toretrace his way, aware that during his stay a steady breeze hadsuddenly sprung up. Under its influence the dangers of the passagethrough the embers were greatly increased, for, fanned by the wind, numerous mounds of débris had flared up again, while the volume ofsmoke had spread in density, blowing straight into his face. 

For some moments Dudley stood irresolute; then seized by a suddeninspiration he ran down wind, plunging through the charred wreckage. He was going directly away from that part of the kraal still held byhis comrades. His new direction led towards a part of the hostileinvesting lines, but he preferred to run the risk of being sniped atsix hundred yards to fighting his way through the now steadily burningdébris. 

As he expected, his passage through this part of the devastated villagewas relatively easy. Being the first of the huts to take fire thissection had almost burnt itself out. Occasionally he had to dodgeround a heap of still burning timber. The heat was almost unbearable, while the smoke penetrating his lungs made him gasp and coughviolently; so much so, that twice he had to place his preciouswater-jars on the ground and clutch at his throat in his distress. 

At length a line of blackened, calcined posts told him that he hademerged from the kraal, and that he was on the line formerly occupiedby the stockade. For another fifty or sixty yards he held on, untilthe smoke cleared considerably; then changing direction, he began tocircumvent the abandoned line of defence until he came to the stillheld position. 

It was not long before several bullets, whizzing perilously close, warned him that the enemy had spotted him through the eddying wreathsof vapour. Others, striking the earth with a dull thud, ricochettedwithin a few inches of his feet. 

Bending, until his jars were almost bumping on the ground, thesubaltern summoned his remaining energies in a final spurt and doubledalmost recklessly towards his goal. 

Through the smoke he heard the sharp challenge of one of the sentries. He tried to reply, but no sound came from his parched throat. The manraised his rifle, when his sergeant, recognising the dishevelled, swaying form of Second-Lieutenant Wilmshurst, ordered the man torecover arms. Then a white mist swam before the subaltern's eyes, and, retaining sufficient presence of mind to place the hardly-won jars ofwater upon the ground, he stumbled inertly into the arms of theRhodesian sergeant. 

CHAPTER XVIII

IM THE ENEMY'S POSITION

It was not long before Wilmshurst regained consciousness, to find thathis precious stock of water was being boiled under the direction of thepatrol-corporal. With admirable restraint the men, knowing that thesubaltern had risked a horrible death for the sake of his blacksergeant, had put the whole of the liquid to boil, insisting that afair distribution would be made when the water was fit for drinking. Alittle over two gallons was not much among so many, but it would justassuage their thirst until the steadily-declining heat of thesmouldering ruins permitted access to the well. 

Producing his pump-filter, for Bela Moshi had taken particular pains toleave it in a safe place before the sortie, the subaltern strained theliquid. It was warm and insipid, yet it was now free fromcontamination, and Bela Moshi drank it with avidity. 

A suspicion of his broad smile flitted across his face as he took thelife-giving draught. 

"You tink me lib for die, sah?" he enquired whimsically. 

"No fear!" replied Wilmshurst, knowing that to a remarkable degree a"nigger" can control his ability to live or die. He had known of ablack man who, grievously upset in a quarrel, declared that he wasgoing to die, and promptly lying down and turning his face to theground, the man was a corpse within half an hour. "You get well onetime quick, or me berry angry. "

The subaltern's reply reminded him of a doting parent talking to asmall child in baby language. Bela Moshi was a mere child in certainrespects, and the mild threat had its effect. "Den me tink me lib, sah, " he said. 

With this assurance Wilmshurst left to snatch a few hours' much-neededrest. The bulk of the white men comprising the garrison were behindthe earthworks. Occasional sharp bursts of rifle firing came from thebush, but no reply was made by the defenders of the kraal. Ammunitionwas too scarce and precious to be thrown away at haphazard firing uponan unseen foe. The Germans' remaining machine gun was unaccountablysilent. Perhaps it had failed, after the manner of automatic weapons. On the other hand, although the captured machine-gun was liable to jamafter a few rounds, owing to its having become overheated, the Hunswere ignorant of the fact, and thus the practically useless weapon wasa strong moral factor in favour of its captors. 

Dudley slept for a solid four hours, to awake considerably refreshed tofind that some one had spread a double ground-sheet above him, so as toform a tent, for the sun was now directly overhead. 

"Hullo, Rupert!" he exclaimed, upon seeing his brother. "How goes it?"

"Feeling quite my old self, " was the reply. "A fellow can buck up evenin present circumstances after being penned up by a mob of rascallyHuns. "

"What happened to you?" asked Dudley. 

Rupert shrugged his bent shoulders. 

"Don't ask me, " he replied. "Some day I'll tell you--if we get out ofthis scrap. "

"Did you hear what became of Robert MacGregor?" persisted Dudley. 

"A thundering good old pal!" declared his brother heartily. "If he'dnot been obliged to go back to Rhodesia I don't think I would have beenlanded in a German prison. I'd give a lot to shake old Bob by the handagain. "

The subaltern regarded his brother intently. Rupert, he saw, wasspeaking quite naturally and without any trace of sarcasm. It wasclear that he had not the slightest idea of the double, nay multi-dyedtreachery of Ulrich von Gobendorff. 

"Dash it all!" he soliloquised. "I can't enlighten old Rupert justnow. Revelations must come later--if, as he remarked, we do come outof this business alive. "

About four o'clock in the afternoon the irritating rifle fire ceased. Fifteen minutes passed without a shot winging its way from the densescrub; and although one or two of the defenders boldly stood upon theparapet to draw the enemy, their tempting position brought no response. 

"Guess we'll hike out and bring in some water, " declared one. "No timelike the present, and we are as dry as a bone. "

"Very good, " agreed the patrol-commander. "Only look sharp about it. This lull in the firing may mean that the Boches are up to some oftheir knavish tricks. "

Accordingly five men, each carrying four jars, set off to the well. The dangers that Wilmshurst had encountered were now over, and in ashort space of time the five returned. Although they had been in fullview of the enemy positions throughout, their progress had not beenmolested by so much as a single shot. 

"The blighters are saving it up for us for to-night, " declared atrooper. "Wonder if a couple of us could steal through their lines andmake our way to the main column? A few squadrons would make Fritz situp. "

"No use unless we were mounted, " objected another; "and a fellowcouldn't hope to dash through their lines at full gallop. He'd bechock full of bullets before he got within fifty yards of them. "

"I'd risk it, anyway, " asserted the first speaker. "Either mounted ordismounted I reckon I'd do it as soon as it gets dark. But I'm hangedif I can understand why Fritz is so horribly quiet and well-behaved. "

"That's what we'd all like to know, " added the sergeant. "I'm thatcurious that I fancy taking a stroll that way myself. "

Shortly afterwards a party of villagers were collected and set to workto bury the bodies of those who had fallen in the futile assault. Thenatives, contrary to expectation, performed their tasks without let orhindrance from the enemy, although the men engaged in the work offereda tempting target. 

With the fall of darkness the mental attention of the garrison becameacute. At every slight or unaccountable sound the men strained eyesand ears and grasped their rifles to meet an imaginary rush. Justbefore midnight a shot rang out, the flash of the rifle being clearlydiscernible at a point immediately fronting the scene of the mostformidable attack on the previous night. 

"They're coming, boys!" exclaimed the patrol-commander. "Ten roundsrapid when I give the word, then independent firing. Don't waste asingle shot. "

Only the click of the rifle-bolts and the quick breathing of the menbroke the stillness. Even the natives, awed by the impending assault, were silent as they handled their bows and long-hafted spears. 

"Hear anything?" whispered the patrol-commander, edging close toWilmshurst. 

"Nothing, " replied the subaltern. 

"They're coming, sir, " exclaimed a deep voice. 

The subaltern raised his binoculars and swept the intervening space. The powerful night-glasses revealed no sign of the approaching enemy. 

Again a flash, followed by the sharp report of a rifle, the bulletknocking splinters from one of the cross-pieces of the stockade--andthen utter silence. 

"Dashed if I can stick this!" declared Wilmshurst. "I'll go out andsec what's doing. With luck I'll be back in an hour. "

"Very good, " agreed the Rhodesian patrol-commander. "Give the word'Buluwayo' for the countersign. Good luck!"

Without loss of time the subaltern started on his mission ofinvestigation. Once clear of the kraal he realised a sense ofloneliness. He would have given almost all he possessed for thecompanionship of his trusty Bela Moshi. Then, shaking off theinstinctive depression, he devoted his thoughts to the work on hand. 

He was taking a different route from the one he had followed on theoccasion of the capture of the machine-gun. It was unfamiliar ground, flat and totally devoid of cover. Ahead lay a line of dark shadowsthat marked the commencement of the encircling bush. It was onlyslightly over a quarter of a mile away, but the distance seemedinterminable as he slowly and cautiously held on. 

Once he stood stock still, his heart beating violently. Ten yardsahead a man lay prone on the short grass. The faint starlight glintedon the barrel of a rifle, which was pointed straight at the lonesubaltern. 

Momentarily Wilmshurst expected to see the blinding flash of the rifle. The fellow was a long time lingering over the sights, he thought. Theyoung officer moved a couple of paces to the right. The sinistermuzzle seemed to be following him, tantalisingly menacing. 

Acting upon a sudden impulse Wilmshurst flung himself flat on theground. After a pause he raised his head and looked towards thesniper, for such he took him to be. The man had not stirred. Hisrifle was cocking upwards at an acute angle to the ground, "I believe adead Hun has given me cold feet, " muttered the subaltern, and creepingstealthily he made a wide detour round the rigidly immovable figure. Then, satisfied up to a certain point, he crawled towards themotionless object. 

It was an Askari. The man was one of the first to be shot during theonslaught. He had fallen face downwards, but still grasped his riflein such a position that there was good reason for mistaking him for asniper. 

From this point Wilmshurst resumed his outward journey, proceeding onhands and knees and halting at frequent intervals to place his ear tothe ground. He could detect no audible evidences of the foe. Neverbefore, in the course of two separate campaigns against native troopsofficered by Germans, had he known such absolute silence amongst theblack rank and file. 

On and on he crawled, grimly soliloquising that much more of this modeof progression would make him imagine that he was a new type ofserpent, for as he approached the outer fringe of scrub he literallymoved on his stomach. 

Proceeding thus he passed between two large thorn bushes. Beyond was aslight artificial depression in the ground, on the bottom of which werehundreds of metal cartridge cases. 

By the peculiar pungent odour he knew that they had been fired withinthe last twelve hours. Some were trodden into the loose earth, whichbore numerous indications of having been trampled both with boots andbare feet. 

"By Jove!" he thought. "Fritz has cleared out. "

Even as the idea flashed across his mind a rifle-shot rang out on hisleft. 

Promptly Wilmshurst flattened himself to the ground, and waitedbreathlessly for further developments. The weird silence wasmaintained save for the distant croaking of bullfrogs in a marsh. 

"Booby trap!" he declared, and cautiously groped around to find out ifhe had incautiously touched a fine wire. At a radius of his extendedarm he found nothing of that nature. Perhaps, after all, a sniper wasconcealed in the bushes on his left, for the bullet had not beendirected at him. 

Bent upon investigating the mystery Wilmshurst crept round theintervening bushes. Before he had traversed thirty yards his head camein contact with the stock of a rifle. The weapon was lashed to acouple of stout bamboos. Fastened to the trigger was a short piece ofwire, to which in turn was tied a length of raw hide. The subalterngave a chuckle of satisfaction. His discovery confirmed his surmisethat the investing force had raised the siege, leaving rifles soarranged that they would fire automatically after various intervals inorder to convey the erroneous impression that the bush was still heldin force. 

The raw hide cords had been placed in position during the heat of theday. After dark the heavy dew moistened the hide and caused it tocontract until the tension upon the trigger was sufficient to releasethe bolt action and detonate the cartridges. 

A similar ruse, embodying more ingenuity, had been practised by theBritish troops during the successful evacuation of the Gallipolipeninsula; but in this case the fixed rifles were fired by means of asmall trickle of water dropping from an upper receptacle into a lowerone. To the latter was tied a cord, the other end of which wasfastened to the trigger. As soon as half a gallon of liquid enteredthe lower tin can, resulting in a pressure of about seven pounds on thetrigger, the rifle was fired. 

"And there are plenty of discarded tins lying about, " thoughtWilmshurst. "It seems strange that methodical Fritz should waste agood raw-hide thong when simpler and more efficacious means areavailable, unless--ah! I wonder if it was a lack of water that madethem clear out?"

Wilmshurst was nothing if not thorough. Before returning with thejoyful news to the kraal he meant to satisfy himself that the Huns hadabandoned all their positions. It would be a bad business if, on thestrength of the young officer's report, the patrol left the village andattempted to rejoin the main body only to find themselves suddenlyattacked in the open by vastly numerically superior forces. 

Checking his direction from time to time by means of his luminouscompass Dudley penetrated nearly a mile into the bush. Everywherethere were evidences that the enemy had retired in the direction of theKarewenda Hills, while the not distant sounds of wild animals showedthat the bush was clear of anything of the nature of numerous partiesof human beings. 

Satisfied on this point the subaltern was about to retrace his way whenhe heard a stealthy footfall on the dew-soddened ground within a fewpaces of the spot where he stood. 

Softly and deliberately Wilmshurst dropped to the earth, screened bythe broad leaves of a cactus. He could hardly believe the evidence ofhis senses when, almost within arm's length, appeared the foremost of asingle file of Haussas--men not only of his own battalion but of hisplatoon. 

CHAPTER XIX

CORNERED AT LAST

Checking the natural exuberance of his wildly delighted men Wilmshurstobtained the information that the battalion, acting in conjunction witha Punjabi infantry regiment and a couple of squadrons of Light Horse, was about to deliver a surprise attack upon the enemy. Once again thewily Hun had disappointed the British forces. By means of nativescouts the Germans had learnt of the approach of the relieving forces, and without waiting to exchange shots the former had effected a promptand skilfully-conducted retirement. 

Accompanied by one of the Haussas Wilmshurst hastened to inform hiscommanding officer of the state of affairs. On the way he found bigSpofforth with the advance-guard. The latter greeted his missing chumcordially. 

"You're a lucky blighter!" he exclaimed, as he critically surveyedDudley's ragged and dishevelled appearance. "You always manage to seesome fun. Here are we, after two days' hard marching, sold completely, and not a chance to fire a shot. Well, what have you been doing?"

"I'll tell you later, " replied Wilmshurst. "I must report to the C. O. Briefly, we've missed von Gobendorff, but we've had one of the toughestlittle scraps I've ever experienced. "

Colonel Quarrier was both delighted and disappointed with his juniorofficer's report. His satisfaction at the news of the successfuldefence of the kraal was unbounded; but his brow darkened when helearnt of the escape of Ulrich von Gobendorff. 

"We heard from native sources that you were in a tight corner, Mr. Wilmshurst, " he remarked in conclusion. "How the news got through inso short a time is one of those unsolved mysteries appertaining to theinhabitants of Central Africa. We pushed ahead with a column hoping tocatch Fritz sitting; but we were done. Well, ought you to rejoin yourtemporary unit? If you prefer you can remain till dawn, for I do notintend to move further till then. We don't want any exchange of shotsby mistake. "

"I'll return, sir, " replied the subaltern. "The men will be bucked tohear the good news. I shouldn't wonder if they aren't getting a bitanxious, for I was due back an hour ago. "

Without mishap the subaltern traversed the intervening stretch ofscrub, crossed the open space and gained the kraal, where, as he hadexpected, the good news was hailed with enthusiasm. For the first timesince the investment of the village the defenders were able to snatch afew hours' undisturbed sleep unaccompanied by the intermittent reportsof rifles and the constant expectation of being called to arms. 

Dawn was breaking when a squadron of Rhodesian Light Horse cantered upto the bullet-torn stockade, their arrival being hailed with threecheers by the undaunted patrol and a deafening clamour from thenatives, who had played no inconspicuous part in the defence of thekraal. Twenty minutes later the Waffs marched in, followed by anIndian battalion, which bivouacked in the open. 

"Here we remain--so the C. O. Says, " declared Danvers, as the fourplatoon-commanders of "A" Company gathered together in a native huttemporarily converted into the mess. "It's a step nearer the KarewendaHills, and there, according to accounts, Fritz will make a last stand. "

"Unless he prefers Cape Town, " added Spofforth, and the five officerslaughed at the jest. "As things are going it reminds me of that kid'sgame 'Ring-a-ring-o'-Roses'--simply barging round and round and gettingno forrarder. "

"Dashed smart chap that servant of yours, Wilmshurst, " remarkedLaxdale, after the subaltern had related the story of Bela Moshi'sdevotion. "And how is he progressing?"

"Splendidly, according to Dr. Barkley's latest report, " replied Dudley. "If any fellow deserves the D. C. M. It's he. "

"And a little bird whispered to me, " continued Laxdale, "that a certainmember of the antient and accepted order of the Lone Star Crush did ajolly risky thing--fetching water under enemy fire. "

Wilmshurst coloured hotly. 

"Rot!" he ejaculated. "Fritz couldn't see me. They were putting up alot of small arms ammunition, of course. No, that's nothing; almostforgot about it, in fact. "

But if Wilmshurst had dismissed the incident from his mind the waterhad not forgotten him. The poisonous germs in the non-filtered liquidwere doing their lethal work, and that evening the subaltern was downwith a severe bout of malaria. 

In a covered dhoolie Wilmshurst was sent down to a hospital base-camp. With him went Rupert, who, on the setting in of the reaction followinghis release, was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. 

Within a couple of months Dudley was back with his battalion. Manytimes he bitterly reproached himself for being out of action for thatperiod simply because he did not exercise sufficient restraint when hedrank the tainted water. He realised that he alone was to blame, whilemost of the trouble fell upon the shoulders of his brotherplatoon-commanders, who already had their full share of work andresponsibility. 

He found the battalion at a place twenty miles further away from theKarewenda Hills than the kraal where he had played so conspicuous apart in its defence. 

"You needn't have been so rattled about it, old boy, " declaredSpofforth. "You've missed none of the fun, for the simple reason thatthere hasn't been any. A fortnight ago we were within sight of Twashi. There was a Belgian column operating on the north-west side. It lookedas if we were going to do something great, when we had to retirethrough lack of provisions. It appears that a few Huns got away andstarted playing the deuce with our lines of communication; put thekybosh on a couple of convoys and generally made things unpleasant. "

"Rather, " agreed Laxdale. "I've been hungry many a time, but now Iknow what it means to have to tighten one's belt. I'll qualify for theArmy Light-weight Championship yet. "

"A week ago I seriously thought of going on exhibition as a livingskeleton, " remarked Danvers. "You've been jolly lucky, Wilmshurst;you're as fat as a prize turkey-cock. They've been stuffing you downat the base. "

"At any rate I'll soon work it down to normal, " rejoined Wilmshurst. "Any company news?"

"Nothing much, " replied Spofforth. "Two casualties in your platoon. Bela Moshi is still away (hard lines, thought Wilmshurst), but therecommendation for the D. C. M. Has gone through. The black sinner willbe as proud as a dog with two tails when he gets the medal. "

Within a week of Dudley's rejoining, the column was again in positionto resume offensive operations. Well guarded convoys had arrived, including a much-needed ammunition column, while with the advent of therainy season the difficulty of feeding the horses and mules wasconsiderably reduced. 

The troops advanced on a broad front, the Waffs in the centre, aPunjabi battalion on the right and a Pathan regiment on the left. Light Horse and Indian Lancers operated on both flanks, while a batteryof mountain guns acted in support of the infantry. 

For the last three weeks a strong Belgian column had been sitting onthe banks of the Tuti, a river flowing in a south-westerly directionbehind the Karewenda Hills and joining the Kiwa fifty miles S. S. W. OfM'ganga. By holding the fords the Belgians effectually cut off theretreat of the Huns from Twashi, and the latter being fully aware ofthat unpleasant fact were confronted with one of two alternatives--tofight it out or surrender. 

Four days' steady marching brought the British column within strikingdistance of the outermost lines of defence. The difficult nature ofthe ground made it impossible to run the position. A frontal attackhad to be delivered in order to pierce the line, but before this couldbe done the intervening ground had to be carefully reconnoitred, asmany of the defences had been thrown up during the last few days, Fritzworking with feverish energy when he found himself cornered. 

During the course of the day four Germans approached the outlyingpiquets and made signs that they wished to surrender. Blindfolded theywere escorted to headquarters and subjected to a rigorous examination. They admitted frankly that supplies both of food and ammunition wererunning short and that the Askaris were restless and showing signs ofmutiny. The prisoners also gave details of the position of some of theGerman advance works, stating that they were but lightly held. Eachman being showed a military map he indicated the position of thedefence in question; and, what was more, the descriptions coincidedwith each other. 

"It would be well, however, not to take too much for granted, sir, "remarked the adjutant to Colonel Quarrier after the Germans had beenremoved. "This surrender business may be a put-up job to throw dust inour eyes. Their yarn has a sort of carefully-practised savour aboutit. "

"Perhaps you are right, " agreed the C. O. Of the Waffs. "It would be aswell to be content with a feint upon this section of the defences incase there is a labyrinth of mines. What sort of ground is this?"

He pointed with a pencil to the map spread out in front of him. Theadjutant looked, frowned and tugged at his moustache. 

"I really cannot say, sir, " he replied at length. "If the map iscorrect----"

"I refer to the actual terrain, " interrupted Colonel Quarrier. "Lookhere, Manners; if it is fairly undulating, and not too steep on thenorth-eastern side, it ought to be admirably suited for a_coup-de-main_. Frontal, of course, but that is inevitable. "

"Just so, sir, " murmured the adjutant. Colonel Quarrier deliberatelyfolded up the map. "Very well, " he said in conclusion. "Send areliable officer out. I want an accurate report. Whom can yousuggest?"

Captain Manners pondered. 

"There's Mr. Spofforth, sir----"

"Too jolly lanky for the job, " objected the colonel. 

"Mr. Danvers----"

"Took lowest marks at map-reading, " continued the critical C. O. "Asmart officer in every other respect. "

"Mr. Laxdale----"

"Lacks caution, " declared Colonel Quarrier. "No pun intended. A goodman in a rush at the head of his platoon, but for individualwork--Who's next?"

"Mr. Wilmshurst, sir. "

"Only just out of hospital, " was the C. O. 's dictum. 

"But fit and as keen as mustard, sir, " persisted the adjutant for tworeasons. He was getting a bit bored at having his recommendationssummarily "choked off"; he also knew that Dudley Wilmshurst was, apartfrom being a soldier, a scout by instinct, and that he had plenty ofexperience of the conditions of life in the bush. 

"Very well, then, " declared the C. O. "Broach the subject to himprivately, Manners. If he jumps at it, send him to me. "

Ten minutes later Second-Lieutenant Dudley Wilmshurst "jumped. "

CHAPTER XX

QUITS

The subaltern decided to go out alone. One man stood a far betterchance of escaping detection than two; so greatly to the dismay ofevery Haussa in his platoon he faced the difficult task single handed. 

Mounted on a nimble pony and carrying rifle and ammunition, revolver, binoculars, map and compass Wilmshurst was bent upon conserving hisenergies during the ride across the previously reconnoitred ground. Onnew terrain he would tether his steed and proceed on foot. 

The air was still and sultry. Away to the north great black cloudspiled themselves up in sombre masses, indigo-coloured with edges ofwatery green and flaming copper. Against the dark background thedistant horizon stood out clear and distinct, owing to the exaggeratedrefractory conditions of the atmosphere. 

"A regular deluge before long, " decided Dudley. 

He viewed the approaching storm with equanimity. The clearness of theatmosphere rendered his task lighter, while the change of weather wouldtend to keep the Askaris within their lines. Even German militarydespotism could not conquer the native levies' dread of a thunderstorm. Finally the darkness and rain on the bursting of the storm would enablehim to get back without so much chance of being spotted, for onreconnoitring it is on the return journey that casualties to the scoutshappen most frequently. 

The subaltern's sole protection from the rain was a waterproof groundsheet. Originally fawn-coloured it had been liberally camouflaged withbizarre circles, squares and triangles painted in a medley ofcolouring. At five hundred yards the wearer was practically invisible, the "colour-scheme" blending with the surrounding ground in a mosteffective manner. For the present the ground sheet, wrapped into asmall compass, was strapped in front of the pommel of the saddle. 

Making his way past the outlying piquets Wilmshurst rode steadily. Theground was undulating, the general tendency being a gentle rise. During the last few days the hitherto dry and parched land had beencovered with rapidly growing vegetation, vivid green grasses shootingup to an average height of eighteen inches and transforming the openground into a state strongly resembling the prairies of the New World. 

Crowds of _aasvogels_, gathered around the carcass of a mule, rose onthe subaltern's approach, uttering discordant cries as they flew awayfrom their interrupted meal. It was unfortunate but unavoidable, andhad Wilmshurst been within a couple of miles of a hostile post theaerial commotion would have "given him away. "

Checking his map with various prominent landmarks the subaltern arrivedat the limit of his ride, a clump of sub-tropical trees that crowned ahorseshoe-shaped hill. 

"That's all right so far, " thought Dudley, comparing the contour of thehill with the plan. "Now comes the unknown. "

His military map showed an absolute desert as far as detail wasconcerned. Topographical knowledge was practically at zero judging bythe almost blank portion of paper representing the ground between thesubaltern and the twin spurs of the Karewenda Hills against whichColonel Quarrier proposed making their actual frontal attack. It wasWilmshurst's task to cross this unknown ground, finding out the bestroute for troops to advance in column of route without being detected, and a suitable place for extending in open order prior to the finalphases of the assault. 

Tethering his pony by means of a long hide-rope--for out ofconsideration for the animal he forbore to hobble it, since there was apossibility that he might not be able to return to it, Wilmshurstfastened the rolled ground-sheet over his shoulder after the manner ofa bandolier, and holding his rifle ready for instant action began hisseven-mile trek. In order to baffle the enemy scouts should they beout, Dudley wore a pair of flat-soled boots to the feet of which werefixed a dummy pair of soles and heels in the reverse way. Any onepicking up the spoor would be under the erroneous belief that thewearer was walking in the opposite direction to the actual one. 

"Judging by my footsteps I must be a pigeon-toed blighter, "soliloquised Wilmshurst, as he noted the turned-in prints in the softground. "I must look out to that, or I'll give the show away. "

On and on he went, making his way from one point of cover to another, yet without seeing or hearing the faintest sign of the German patrols. It was not a reassuring business, for scouts might be in the vicinity, and a scout unseen is a far greater menace than one who incautiouslybetrays his presence. 

Following the course of a donga he found that the narrow valley formedan admirable means for a column to advance if protected by flankers, but after tracing it for the best part of two miles Wilmshurstdiscovered that it terminated abruptly, merging into a vast open plain. 

Cautiously the subaltern crept up the sloping face of the donga untilhis head was just above the edge of the level ground. By the aid ofthe glasses he made a prolonged and cautious survey. Eight hundredyards on his right front were swarms of vultures busily engaged intheir revolting pastime; at a similar distance on the left were four_springbok_ grazing unconcernedly. Both signs tended to prove thatthere were no human beings about, for in the case of the _springbok_their keen scent enabled them to detect the presence of the hunter tosuch an extent that it was a difficult matter to get within easy rangeof them. 

Having taken a series of compass bearings and entered a few details onhis map Wilmshurst started off for a kopje midway between the_aasvogels_ and the _springbok_. Although he took the greatest painsto keep out of sight the nimble quadrupeds suddenly bolted, flying likethe wind. A few seconds later the vultures rose from their interruptedrepast, flying almost immediately over the prone form of the subaltern. 

"Fishy--very, " mused Wilmshurst. "What made the _aasvogels_ fly thisway? I'll sit tight and await developments. "

For the best part of half an hour he remained perfectly quiet, not evenrisking to use his binoculars, lest the reflected light might attractthe attention of a hostile scout. By this time the storm was drawingnearer--slowly but surely. As yet no rain had fallen. There were theindigo-coloured clouds ahead; behind the sky was one unbroken expanseof dirty yellow haze. It reminded Wilmshurst of the efforts of anamateur painter trying to "lay on" a coat of yellow paint with atar-stained brush. Far away to the north came the reverberations of apeal of thunder. It was Nature's signal to the wary to take cover. 

Finding at the end of thirty minutes that nothing happened to indicatethe presence of an enemy, for the _aasvogels_ had returned to theircarrion feast, Wilmshurst essayed the remaining portion of hisinterrupted advance. The kopje, he decided, was to be the extremelimit of his reconnoitring expedition. From it he ought to be able toform a tolerably accurate idea of the nature of the terrain up to thebase of the natural bastions of the Karewenda Hills. 

Wilmshurst had taken only half a dozen steps when a rifle shot rangout. Practically simultaneously with the shrill whistle of the bulletsomething seemed to hit the subaltern on the left shoulder like a blowfrom a hammer. 

"That's done it, " was his mental exclamation. "Stopped one this time, by Jove!"

And spinning round twice he dropped to the ground. 

Feeling horribly sick and faint Dudley sat up. He found that he waslying in a slight hollow, the surrounding ground being sufficientlyhigh to afford good cover, while ahead and on the right were bushes oflong-spiked thorn. 

Satisfied on the point of concealment Dudley next devoted his attentionto his wound. Ripping open the sleeve of his coat he discovered that abullet had passed completely through his left arm just below theshoulder. There was very little loss of blood, showing that themissile had missed the principal veins and arteries, but whether it hadsmashed a bone was still a matter of uncertainty. 

Applying a first-aid dressing to the best of his ability, Wilmshurstprepared to "grin and bear it. " He realised that developments would bemostly a contest of patience. The sniper was anxious to know theactual result of his shot, but too cautious to close until he feltcertain that he had killed his victim. Wilmshurst, anxious to "get hisown back, " also knew that premature action would spell disaster. Allhe could do was to sit tight and hope that his enemy would leave hislair. 

Slowly the minutes passed. The numbing sensation of the wound wasgiving place to hot, stabbing pain, while in spite of the sultriness ofthe air a cold sweat oozed from the young officer's forehead. 

"Dash it all!" he soliloquised. "Hope I'm not going to faint or dosomething silly. "

He bent forward until his head rested on his knees. In a few minutesthe feeling of vertigo passed. A draught from his water-bottle had theeffect of temporarily quenching the burning pain that gripped histhroat. 

"That's better, " he declared, and straightway set to work to carefullyblacken the foresight of his rifle, adjust the wind-gauge (for thefirst of a steady cross-wind had sprung up) and set the sights to sixhundreds yards. 

"Not so bad with the use of one arm only, " he muttered complaisantly. "Hullo, here's the rain!"

With the typical fierceness of a tropical storm the rain beat down. Hailstones as big as a walnut thudded the ground, rebounding a foot orso in the air until all around was blotted out by the terrificdownpour. Underneath the waterproof sheet Dudley lay, knowing thatthere was no chance of the sniper venturing from his lair while thisbattery of nature's weapons was in action. It was almost pitch-black, save for the phosphorescent-like light emanating from the falling rain. Occasional vivid flashes of lightning o'erspread the sky, followed byrumbling peals of thunder. 

Taking particular pains to keep his rifle dry Wilmshurst lay closeuntil the initial downpour had passed. Then, acting as promptly as hiscrippled condition would allow, he laid the muzzle of the weapon on afork of one of the bushes. As he expected he found that he could takeaim without much risk of being spotted, since the bush formed anefficient screen. 

Still no sign of the sniper. Wilmshurst had no definite idea of thefellow's position. He could only surmise, basing his assumption on thereport of the rifle, that he was either on the kopje ahead or elseconcealed behind one of the boulders on its side. 

"Fritz knows how to play a waiting game too, I see, " mutteredWilmshurst, as he deliberately wiped off a globule of water that haddropped upon the backsight of his rifle. "Hope he won't keep mewaiting about till after midnight. I must stick it till he shows up. "

The wounded subaltern bore no animosity towards the man who had shothim. In a true soldierly spirit he realised that the Hun had actedlike a sportsman. It was merely a question of which scout was thesharper and Wilmshurst had been caught napping. Really he wanted tocongratulate Fritz upon his excellent shot, but before qualifying hiswishes on that score he must get his own back--shot for shot. 

A thin haze of bluish smoke rose from a depression in the ground, and, caught by the wind, eddied into obscurity. 

"Silly juggins!" exclaimed Wilmshurst. "Bad habit smoking when you'resupposed to be _en perdu_. Now I know where to look for you. "

The Hun was evidently arriving at a conclusion that he had "downed hisman, " but with the intention of waiting a little longer he was not ableto resist the inclination of smoking a pipe. 

Bringing the butt of his rifle to his shoulder Wilmshurst lingered overthe sights--not with the idea of firing at a wreath of smoke, but totest his ability to "pull off" gently. To his surprise he found thatthe throbbing pain in his left shoulder had little or no effect uponhis steadiness of aim. Provided Fritz showed himself the subalternfelt almost certain of scoring an "inner" if not a "bull. "

In a quarter of an hour the puffs of smoke ceased. Wilmshurst had amental vision of the Hun knocking out the ashes on the heel of his bootand placing the pipe away in his pocket. 

"Now he'll be moving, " thought Dudley. 

His surmise proved correct, for first the upper part of the head andthen the face and shoulders of a man appeared above a ridge of ground. 

Wilmshurst stirred neither hand nor foot, lest in spite of the screenafforded by the bush his movements might be noticed by the alert scout. 

Followed a few long-drawn moments of suspense as the scout made acareful survey by means of his field-glasses. Apparently satisfied hereplaced the binoculars and carrying his rifle at the trail prepared todescend the knoll. 

Deliberately and cautiously Wilmshurst glanced along the sights of hisrifle. He would wait, he decided, until Fritz was some distance fromhis lair. It would give him a chance to get in a couple of shots ifthe first perchance should miss. 

With his body from the waist upwards showing clearly against thecopper-hued clouds the Hun offered a splendid target. 

Gently the subaltern's finger crept to the trigger. In his interest inhis foe he forgot the stinging, throbbing pain. The rifle, supportedby the fork of the tree, was as steady as a rock. 

Just as Wilmshurst was about to press the trigger a lurid blindingflash seemed to leap from the ground immediately on his front. Withthe echoes of an appalling crash that shook the solid earth ringing inhis ears Dudley found himself gazing blankly ahead but seeing nothing. Dazzled by the sudden intensity of light, deafened by the concussion, he was conscious of a vile, sulphurous odour assailing his nostrils. 

Gradually the mist decreased until he was able to see with comparativeease. His first thought was for his rifle; he was agreeably surprisedto find that it was intact, for it seemed marvellous that the lightninghad missed the steel barrel. 

Then he looked in the direction of his enemy. The Hun was lying prone, his head pillowed on his arm. The other, curiously enough, wasprojecting obliquely in the air. All around the grass was burning, while already the luckless man's uniform was smouldering. 

Abandoning all thought of concealment in his desire to aid his foeWilmshurst sprang to his feet, and supporting his useless left arm byhis right doubled towards the spot where the man had dropped. 

As he drew near he saw that the German's rifle had been hurled quiteten yards. The barrel was partly wrenched from the stock, and for adistance of about a foot from the muzzle the steel had been split, revealing the glittering rifling. 

Taking in these details at a glance Dudley gained the side of theprostrate man. One look was sufficient to show that the Hun had beenkilled outright. 

"Hard lines, Fritz, " exclaimed Wilmshurst aloud. "I'm glad I didn'thave to pot you. "

Something prompted him to grasp the dead man by his shoulder and turnhim over on his back. As he did so, Dudley gave vent to an involuntaryejaculation of surprise. 

"Good heavens!" he exclaimed. "It's von Gobendorff. "

 * * * * *

It was close on sunset when Wilmshurst, racked with pain, returned tothe bivouac. Willing hands assisted him from the saddle, yet, firmlydeclining to submit to the attentions of the medical officer until hecompleted his task, the wounded subaltern made a lucid report andsubmitted his maps for inspection. 

Next morning he was sent down to the base hospital, protesting thewhile that the wound was not serious enough to keep him away from hisplatoon just as the fun was commencing. 

 * * * * *

A fortnight later, while Wilmshurst was convalescing at Kilwa, he wassurprised by a deputation of officers of his regiment--Spofforth, Danvers, Laxdale, and three or four more. 

"How goes it, old man?" exclaimed Spofforth, the leader of thedeputation. "You've something to show for your little dust-up. "

"I have, " admitted Dudley. "A clean puncture through the arm. Butwhat are you fellows doing here? You don't mean to say that thebusiness is over?"

"By something I mean the M. C. , " continued Jock Spofforth, ignoringWilmshurst's questions. "It's in to-day's orders, so we're here tooffer congrats. The battalion's doing well--a D. S. O. , two M. C. 's andfive D. C. M. 's; not a bad record, eh, what?"

"Yes, the show's over as far as we are concerned, " added Laxdale. "Wemarched in yesterday. It was a jolly satisfactory piece of work thatfinal attack on Fritz's position. "

"Sorry I hadn't a hand in it, " remarked Wilmshurst. 

"You did, old man, " protested Spofforth. "Those maps of yours--theywere simply it. We just romped home, as it were. But buck up anddon't look so down in the mouth. One would fancy you didn't cotton onto the Military Cross. And here's news. We are expecting orders forMesopotamia, so that ought to cheer you up. "

And Wilmshurst, M. C. , of the Frontier Force, cheered up accordingly.