Part 15 (1/2)
”Well, we'll see. First things first; I'll go and harangue the men.”
CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH--Ferrier Insists
There were long faces among the men when they heard what was expected of them. Night was terrible to them. They were low-spirited, and John had to refrain from stimulating them with a full meal; there would be danger in lighting fires. But he promised them a feast when the work was done.
To march silently, to keep together, to do exactly what they were told: that was the sum of his exhortation. When he left them to consider it, some grumbled, others talked of slinking away. But one reminded them that these wasungu had slain lions and rhinoceros, why should they not slay bad men too? And they kept their promises: if they said there should be a feast, a feast there would certainly be. So they took comfort, and began to talk bravely of the deeds they would do.
Before they set forth, John set Bill to gather some bundles of dry gra.s.s and press them tight. Then he asked Said Mohammed to spare him a quant.i.ty of the methylated spirit he had brought for cooking. He poured some of this into his pocket-flask from the Bengali's tin can.
”You will remain here, Said Mohammed,” he said. ”I shall leave five or six men who have most felt the strain of marching.”
”Respectfully, sir, that is against the grain. I go where honour calls.
Never say die. I gird up my loins and follow into thick of the fray.”
”All right. Just as you please. Keep close to us, that's all.”
”I will stick closer than a brother, sir.”
Some few minutes past ten o'clock, under a sky whose blackness was scarce broken by the stars, John and the Wanderobbo led the way out of the camp, each carrying a bundle of dried gra.s.s. Immediately behind them marched Said Mohammed, then Coja and the rest of the men in single file, Ferrier bringing up the rear. They moved silently, and the half-dozen men left behind in the camp, peering out through the boma, neither saw nor heard them when the last man was a dozen yards away.
John did not try to find the track of his former journey. It was too dark to see it. Bill might have discovered it by his wonderfully keen sense of touch, but there was no need. All they had to do was to march due west until they struck the stream; then to hug its bank until they arrived at the elephant gra.s.s.
It was slow work, and not without its anxieties for the white men. Every now and then John heard a gulping sound behind, and knew that some one was afraid. Once or twice he halted. The men's hard breathing spoke of terror rather than effort. At such times he pa.s.sed down the line, speaking quietly to rea.s.sure them; then, returning to the head, he bent to the ground and struck a match under his hat, to check the course by his pocket-compa.s.s, and went on again. Once there was a rustling sound upon the left hand, and the scared negroes made clicks with their mouths, and some would have run had not John, in a fierce whisper, called to them to stand, and asked whether they feared an antelope.
They came at length to the stream, the gurgle of its waters making a pleasant music in John's ears. Half the journey was done. So that he might not come to the stream near the enemy's camp he had directed his course somewhat south of his former line; and it was a long march up-stream before they came to the elephant gra.s.s. John avoided the brink, for fear of lurking crocodiles. Once he almost stumbled upon a hippopotamus asleep in the sedge, and thought it lucky he was at the head of his men, whom the snort of the beast, as it rose and shambled away into the darkness, might have infected with panic. He heaved a sigh of relief as he came at last to the tall, thick gra.s.s standing high above his head. Halting, he pa.s.sed word down the line to tread even more cautiously and in even deeper silence, trusting that the rustling which could scarcely be avoided would, if heard in the camp, seem to the enemy only the sound of animals moving in the gra.s.s. Then he went on again.
Peering out through the screen, he presently saw a dull glow some distance to the right. There lay the camp; within the boma fires were burning. Once more the party halted, and John, moving stealthily, sought Ferrier to consult with him.
”I'm going to set fire to the boma,” he said in a whisper. ”When you see the flames, fire off all your rifles and lead the men at a rush for the camp. They can shout then like the army of Gideon. We're north-west of it; they'll be startled out of their sleep, and rush for the gate on the south-west; at least I hope so.”
”You'd better let me fire the boma, John. You'll lead the men better than I should; they know you best. Besides, it's my turn.”
”Rubbis.h.!.+” said John. ”I've been here before.”
”But I can't miss the boma if I go straight ahead. I insist on it, old chap; I'm sure it will be best. Hand over your gra.s.s and the spirit; I've got matches.”
”Your arm's not thoroughly sound yet.”
”All the more reason. It doesn't require much muscle to strike a match.
Come on; it must be past midnight; there's no time to lose.”
John gave him the materials somewhat reluctantly. Ferrier pressed his hand and slid away into the darkness. Time pa.s.sed very slowly. The men grew fidgety; John heard the strange gulping in their throats, and the little noises they made as they moved worried him, lest they were heard in the camp. True, there were other sounds: the hum of insects, a lion's roar in the distance, the laughing bark of a hyena; but these were momentary, not continuous like the rustling of the gra.s.s, which there was no breeze to account for. As minute after minute pa.s.sed, and there was still no sign, John grew more and more anxious. The boma was less than two hundred yards distant. He durst not strike a light to look at his watch, but surely there had been time to go and come and go again. What was happening?
Ferrier, stealing across the ground with no more sound than a snake might have made, guided always by the faint glow from the fires, had covered, as he guessed, two-thirds of the distance when he thought it prudent to drop upon hands and knees, lest, upright, his form should be descried by some keen-sighted sentry. He had crawled thus some twenty yards further when suddenly he saw dimly before him a something, like an irregular hedge, no more than four feet high, stretching athwart his path. Was this the boma? Surely it bespoke unusual security in the enemy if they had contented themselves with so low a defence. Their bomas were commonly six feet high or more. He crept on more stealthily until he touched the obstruction: it was a th.o.r.n.y hedge. He tried to peer through it, expecting to see the camp-fires; but he looked into blackness, save for the dull red glow in the sky. Was it possible that the enemy were not so confident after all, but had erected a double barrier? Or was the hedge natural?
He crawled to the left. The hedge had a regular curve. It must have been placed by men. Raising himself gradually to his feet until his eyes were just level with the top, he looked over. Yes; there was the true boma, a dark ma.s.s thirty feet away. Through its interstices he saw streaks of dim light from the fires burning within. To set fire to the outer hedge would be useless; within the boma the enemy would be still secure, and the conflagration would but give them light to take aim at their a.s.sailants. He must cross the hedge.
But how? By a flying leap? This would expose him to the view of any one on watch, for though the night was dark, it was not so black but that a moving object could be seen. By clambering over? This would be attended by the same risk and by others. He might indeed scramble over at the expense of torn hands and clothing, though there was the danger of being held fast by the tenacious wait-a-bit thorns of which the obstacle was made. But his movements must cause such a crackling and creaking of the interlaced branches as could not fail to alarm any one who chanced to be awake in the camp, no matter at what part of it.
Leaping and climbing being equally out of the question, what course remained?