Part 2 (1/2)

”How about turning out the machine-gun section?” asked Spofforth.

”Look here, if you fellows want to be ready for tiffen you'd better get a move on. Suppose----”

”Still they come!” exclaimed Laxdale, as a knock sounded on the jalousie 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. ”Find him one time and come quick.”

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

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

”Bring Mutton Chop here,” ordered Wilmshurst, addressing the broadly smiling Tari Barl.

The Haussa vanished, presently to reappear with almost an exact counterpart of himself. It would be a difficult matter for a stranger to 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's servant. ”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 in the desolated cabin; then slowly but without any signs of furtiveness the rat pushed his head between the folds of Wilmshurst's tunic, sniffed, and finally emerged, sat up on his hind legs, his long whiskers quivering with evident delight.

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

”Me hab mascot same as officers, sahs!” he explained. ”No put him here, 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 knots through the tropical waters of the Atlantic. Although there was little to fear from the attacks of U-boats, for up to the present these craft had not appeared south of the Equator, mines had been laid by disguised German s.h.i.+ps right in the area where numerous trade routes converge in the neighbourhood of the Cape of Good Hope, while there were rumours, hitherto unconfirmed, that an armed raider was at large in the South Atlantic.

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

The issue of lifebelts to the native troops puzzled them greatly. They could not understand the precaution, for they were ignorant of the danger of making voyages in war-time. Their faith in the ”big canoes”

of King George was so firm that, sea-sickness notwithstanding, they had no doubts or fears concerning their safe arrival in the land where Briton, Boer, Indian and African were doing their level best to stamp out the blight of German kultur.

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