Title: The long trail: A story of African adventure
Author: Strang, Herbert
Language: English
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[Frontispiece: GORUBA AT BAY. _See page_ 268]



  THE LONG TRAIL

  _A STORY OF
  AFRICAN ADVENTURE_


  BY

  HERBERT STRANG


  ILLUSTRATED BY H. EVISON


  _With a Frontispiece in Colour by A. della Valle_



  HUMPHREY MILFORD
  OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
  LONDON, EDINBURGH, GLASGOW
  TORONTO, MELBOURNE, CAPE TOWN, BOMBAY

  1919



  PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY R. CLAY AND SONS, LTD.,
  BRUNSWICK STREET, STAMFORD STREET, S.E. 1, AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.



  HERBERT STRANG

  COMPLETE LIST OF STORIES

  ADVENTURES OF DICK TREVANION, THE
  ADVENTURES OF HARRY ROCHESTER, THE
  A GENTLEMAN AT ARMS
  A HERO OF LIEGE
  AIR PATROL, THE
  AIR SCOUT, THE
  BARCLAY OF THE GUIDES
  BOYS OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE
  BROWN OF MOUKDEN
  BURTON OF THE FLYING CORPS
  CARRY ON
  CRUISE OF THE GYRO-CAR, THE
  FIGHTING WITH FRENCH
  FLYING BOAT, THE
  FRANK FORESTER
  HUMPHREY BOLD
  JACK HARDY
  KING OF THE AIR
  KOBO
  LORD OF THE SEAS
  MOTOR SCOUT, THE
  OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN, THE
  ONE OF CLIVE'S HEROES
  PALM TREE ISLAND
  ROB THE RANGER
  ROUND THE WORLD IN SEVEN DAYS
  SAMBA
  SETTLERS AND SCOUTS
  SULTAN JIM
  SWIFT AND SURE
  THROUGH THE ENEMY'S LINES
  TOM BURNABY
  TOM WILLOUGHBY'S SCOUTS
  WITH DRAKE ON THE SPANISH MAIN
  WITH HAIG ON THE SOMME



  CONTENTS


  CHAP.

  I. THE RUINED VILLAGE
  II. THE FIGHT AT DAWN
  III. THE STORY OF GORUBA
  IV. RUSHED BY TUBUS
  V. UNDER THE LASH
  VI. THE NORTHWARD TRAIL
  VII. THE PYTHON
  VIII. SETTING A TRAP
  IX. THE BROKEN BRIDGE
  X. IN HOT PURSUIT
  XI. A STRATEGIC RETREAT
  XII. A STAMPEDE
  XIII. A NARROW SHAVE
  XIV. AT BAY
  XV. THE PROBLEM
  XVI. A NIGHT INTRUDER
  XVII. A NIGHT ADVENTURE
  XVIII. ATTACKED BY LIONS
  XIX. TRAINING AN ARMY
  XX. THE MYSTERY DEEPENS
  XXI. A BLOW FOR LIBERTY
  XXII. THE DISCOVERY OF RABEH'S HOARD
  XXIII. GORUBA IS CAUGHT
  XXIV. A FIGHT WITH CROCODILES
  XXV. CHARGED BY RHINOCEROSES
  XXVI. DISASTER
  XXVII. AN ATTACK IN FORCE
  XXVIII. THE ELEVENTH HOUR
  XXIX. TUBUS TO THE RESCUE
  XXX. THE FORWARD MARCH
  XXXI. THE LAST FIGHT
  XXXII. A HOT CHASE
  XXXIII. THE END OF GORUBA
  XXXIV. THE GREAT REWARD



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


_COLOUR PLATE BY A. DELLA VALLE_

GORUBA AT BAY (see p. 268) . . . Frontispiece



_DRAWINGS BY H. EVISON_

AT GRIPS WITH THE NEGRO

JOHN ADDRESSES THE SENTRY

THE PRISONER

IN THE PYTHON'S TOILS

COLLAPSE

AT THE EDGE OF THE CLIFF

FACING THE FOE

JOHN TO THE RESCUE

A FATAL LEAP

THE DISCOVERY IN THE DITCH

GAMBARU IS AMAZED

THE FIGHT WITH THE CROCODILES

THE RHINOCEROS IN PURSUIT

GORUBA HAS A BLOW

RESCUED BY THE ENEMY

ROYCE LEADS THE CHARGE

GORUBA CLIMBS THE WELL



The LONG TRAIL



[Illustration: Chapter I headpiece]


CHAPTER I

THE RUINED VILLAGE

On the afternoon of a certain day in spring a party of eighteen men
was marching through the rocky, bush-covered country near the
north-western corner of Lake Chad, in Northern Nigeria.  It consisted
of two white men, in khaki and sun helmets, and sixteen stalwart
Hausas, wearing nothing but their loin-cloths, but carrying on their
heads boxes and bundles of all shapes and sizes.  The white men and
nine of the negroes had rifles slung over their backs.

They were marching wearily.  Since early morning, almost without
stopping, they had been trudging their toilsome way over parched and
barren land, only once discovering a water-hole at which they were
able to slake their burning thirst.

For the greater part of the day the sun had beat upon them fiercely;
but the sky was now overclouded, and a keen north-east wind had
sprung up--the harmattan of the desert--blowing full in their faces,
stinging their skins and filling mouths and ears and nostrils with
the particles of fine grey dust which it swept along in its
desolating course.

The jaded carriers, who were wont to enliven the march with song and
chatter, were now silent.  The two Englishmen in advance, bending
forward to keep the grit out of their eyes, tramped along, side by
side, with an air of dejection and fatigue.

"We are down on our luck, old man," said Hugh Royce presently,
turning his back upon the wind.  "The village can't be far away, if
Drysdale's map is correct; but we can't go on much farther without a
long rest."

"It's rank bad luck, as you say," replied Tom Challis.  "It's not as
if we had been over-marching; we've really taken it pretty easy; but
we didn't reckon with sickness.  These Hausas look as strong as
horses, but I doubt whether half of them will be able to lift their
loads to-morrow."

"When we get to the village, we'll let them slack for a day or two,
and dose them well.  I'll tell John; it will encourage them to stick
it a little longer."

He beckoned up a strapping negro, the head-man of the company, upon
whom a former employer had bestowed the name John in place of his
own--a succession of clicks and gurgles which white men found
unpronounceable.  Telling him the decision just come to, the leader
of the expedition ordered him to acquaint the men with it, and urge
them to persevere a little longer.

The weary, willing carriers perked up a little at the prospect of a
holiday, and began to talk to one another of how much they would eat.
It did not matter, they agreed, if they made themselves ill, for the
little balls out of the white men's bottles would soon set them to
rights again.

Hugh Royce was one of those hardy persons whom wealth does not spoil.
Inheriting, at the age of twenty-three, a large fortune from an
uncle, he resolved to realise his dearest ambition--to travel into
some little-known region of the world, not for mere sport, but to
study its animals and birds, and add something to the general stock
of knowledge.

A chance meeting with a friend of his, named Drysdale, who had just
returned from a sporting expedition in Nigeria, led him to choose
that country as a promising field of discovery.

Being sociably inclined, he wanted a companion.  Drysdale himself
could not join him, but he happened to mention that traces of tin had
recently been found near one of the tributaries of the River Yo.
This led Royce to think of his school-fellow, Tom Challis, a mining
engineer who was not getting on so fast as he would have liked.  He
went to Challis and proposed that they should go together, Challis to
prospect for tin, while he himself pursued his studies in natural
history.

"If things look well," he said, "we'll start a tin mine, and go
half-shares."

"That's hardly fair to you, as you're going to stand all expenses,"
replied Challis.  "I shall be satisfied with a quarter."

"You're too modest, Tom.  Well, I want your company, so I'll agree to
a third, nothing less.  So that's settled."

Royce purchased a quantity of tinned goods; medical stores; prints,
mirrors, and beads for trading with the natives; rifles and
ammunition; a tent and other necessaries; and they left Southampton
one February day for the Gold Coast.  Here they engaged a staff of
experienced Hausa carriers--called "boys," whatever their age might
be--and started for the interior.

That was several weeks ago, and they were now approaching the
tin-bearing region marked on the map with which Drysdale had provided
his friend.

About an hour after the promise of a rest had stimulated the
carriers, they were further encouraged by striking a native track,
which indicated the proximity of a village.  Tired as they were, they
quickened their pace, and another half-hour's march brought them to
cultivated fields of millet and ground-nuts.

The white men, walking ahead of the party, looked forward eagerly for
the conical roofs of the village huts, which they expected to see
rising above the crops in the distance, and were surprised to find
that nothing of the sort was in sight.

"It must be a bigger place than I thought," said Royce.  "A small
village wouldn't have such extensive fields.  Drysdale marks the
people as friendly; I hope we shall find them so."

The narrow track wound through the fields, high stalks growing on
either side.  A sudden turn brought them in sight of an object which
caused them to halt, and struck them with a foreboding of ill.

Lying in a curiously huddled posture across the track was the body of
a black man.

Insensibly lightening their tread, they approached it, and found that
the man was dead, and bore marks of slashing and defacement.

"There's been bad work here," said Royce in a whisper.

They looked ahead; no one was in sight.  They listened; there was not
a sound but the chirping of insects in the crops.

Unslinging their rifles, they went slowly on, oppressed with a sense
of tragedy; and a few steps more disclosed a scene for which their
discovery of the dead man had partly prepared them.  The absence of
the well-known conical roofs was explained.  The site of what had
once been a flourishing village was now desolate, a black waste.
Great heaps of ashes marked the spots where the cane huts had stood,
and here and there lay bodies stiff in death, from which a number of
sated carrion birds rose noisily into the air at the approach of men.

Their hearts sank as they contemplated the pitiful scene.  It was a
new thing in their experience, though it represented one of the
commonest of tragedies in that region.  The village had recently been
raided by a more powerful neighbour; its men had been killed, its
women and children carried off into slavery.

Happily, such raids are becoming less frequent as the Great Powers
strengthen their grip on the areas marked on the maps as their
spheres of influence.  But in the remoter parts of those vast
territories, life still proceeds much as it has done for hundreds or
thousands of years past.

The horror of the scene, the misery it represented, sank deep into
the hearts of the two Englishmen.  And mingled with the distress
which every humane person must have felt, was their consciousness of
the bearing this discovery would have upon their own situation.  They
had hoped to make this village their resting-place, to give their men
time to recover from the sickness which had crept upon them of late,
to renew their store of fresh provisions.  But it was now late in the
afternoon; the next village marked on the map was fifteen or twenty
miles away; the fatigue and weakness of the carriers rendered it
impossible for the expedition to advance so far.

"We are indeed down on our luck," said Challis gloomily.  "This will
just about be the finishing stroke for our boys."

"They can't move another step, that's certain," said Royce.  "We
shall have to camp somewhere about here for the night.  Here they
are.  Look at their faces!  I never saw fright so clearly expressed.
We must put the best face on it with them."

The carriers had halted at the edge of the village clearing, and
stood like images of terror and despair.  Royce went up to them.

"This is very bad, John," he said to the head-man.  "Keep the boys as
cheerful as you can.  They had better put down their loads against
those palm-trees yonder.  Find the village well, and get some water;
then the strongest of them must build a zariba for the night.  Get up
our tent, and then we'll talk things over."

"Boys 'fraid of Tubus, sah."

"Tubus?"

"Yes, sah--Tubus done dat."

"How do you know?"

"Savvy cuts on black fella's face, sah.  Tubus' knives done dat."

"Well, they needn't be afraid.  The Tubus won't come again; if they
did, they wouldn't face our rifles.  Fix things up, and then come
back.  We'll see what can be done."



CHAPTER II

THE FIGHT AT DAWN

Royce knew the Tubus by repute as a fierce and bloodthirsty tribe,
living in French territory beyond the River Yo, whose raids across
the border were notorious.  It was certainly to be hoped that the
peaceful objects of his expedition would not be hindered by
encounters with those turbulent savages.

The first consideration, however, was the welfare of his boys.  They
depended for their food on the willingness of the natives to sell.
Hitherto there had been no difficulty in this respect; but they
carried only enough for a few days' supply, and at present their
provisions were exhausted.  The crops of this village were not yet
ripe; the village itself was absolutely bare; it was of the first
importance that food should be obtained at once.

As a result of a consultation with Challis and the headman, Royce
decided to push on with John to the next village and buy food there.

"What if that has been raided too?" suggested Challis, as they talked
it over.

"We must hope for the best," Royce answered.

"And it's pretty risky, you two going alone through a country
recently raided."

"How long ago were the Tubus here, do you think?" Royce asked John.

"Two free days, sah."

"Well, then, it's likely that they've gone back to their own ground.
For us it's a choice of two evils, and we must chance it.  With good
luck, we shall get to the next village before dark.  I'll engage
carriers there, and we ought to be back here with plenty of grub by
to-morrow night."

They set off.  Both were in good condition, and they made rapid
progress.  But the country was trackless, and Royce could only direct
his course roughly by Drysdale's map.

The short dusk was falling without their having come on any signs of
human dwellings.  In another half-hour it would be quite dark, and
Royce reluctantly but prudently decided that they must take shelter
for the night, for fear of becoming hopelessly lost, and go on in the
morning.

The country was bare, consisting of rocky ground sparsely covered
with scrub.  It offered nothing that gave promise of a comfortable
defence against the night cold, and Royce had almost reconciled
himself to spending the hours in the open when suddenly he caught
sight, on the crest of a low hill about a mile to the left, of what
appeared to be the ruins of a small building.  Such ruins are to be
met with here and there in the remotest depths of the great
continent, the relics of ancient civilisations long vanished.  There
were no signs of life about this building, and Royce resolved to take
shelter there.

They struck off to the left, climbed the hill, and, after a careful
survey of the neighbourhood, approached the ruin.  It turned out to
be a dismantled stone fort, overgrown in parts with vegetation, but
in a fair state of preservation.  The outer wall was complete;
inside, the principal chamber, which had once, no doubt, been the
headquarters of a garrison, was roofless, and such timber-work as
there had been was either burnt or had been carried away.  Some
smaller rooms were still covered from the sky, and it was in one of
these that Royce determined to repose during the night.

They had brought with them a few biscuits and a small tin of
preserved mutton, and they made a meagre supper.  John having
noticed, as they approached the fort, the runs of ground game among
the bushes, set a few snares, in the hope of providing next day's
breakfast.  He returned with a huge armful of leaves and grasses to
spread on the stone floor of the room chosen for their night's
lodging.

"It's the first time I've been littered down like a horse," said
Royce to himself, with faint amusement.  "There's no telling what one
may come to!"

"No berry comfy, sah," said John, when he had laid these rough beds
in opposite corners.  "All can do."

"It will do very well, John," returned Royce.  "I suppose we shan't
be disturbed by lions or any other unpleasant visitors?"

"No fink so, sah."

"Should we light a fire, do you think?"

"No, sah; no good.  Fire make lions 'fraid; oh yes! but no make bad
mans 'fraid."

"I see--it might drive off beasts, but attract men?  Very well.  I
don't suppose I shall sleep much, anyway."

Royce had often admired the negro's ability to sleep anywhere and at
any time, and to awake to full alertness and activity in a moment.
Like a dog, he seems to have no need of the preliminary yawnings and
stretchings to which a civilised man has accustomed himself.  John
fell asleep as soon as he had curled himself up on his grass bed.
His master lay awake for a long time, listening to the rustle of the
wind in the foliage that clothed the ruins, fancying that he heard
the grunt of a lion and the bark of a jackal far away, thinking of
Challis in his camp, and of the terrible scene of desolation in the
ruined village.

A more experienced traveller would have taken that matter
philosophically; Royce was greatly perturbed.  He pictured in his
mind the barbarians swooping upon the village, the massacre and
pillage, the driving of women and children into slavery; and he
shuddered at the misery which had fallen upon simple and inoffensive
people.

He felt anxiety, too, about the future of his own little company.
The region of which he was in search was apparently situated near the
lands of the Tubus, the raiding tribe whose name was dreaded by his
boys; and the prospect of coming into conflict with them made him
uneasy.  Not that he was a coward, or shrank from the possible
necessity of fighting; but his object was peaceable, and he wished
with all his heart that it might be attained without offence to the
native peoples, without the shedding of blood.  Yet his indignation
burnt so fiercely within him, that he knew he would not be able to
refrain from striking a blow for any hapless villagers who might be
threatened with disaster at the hands of a savage enemy.

Turning over these things in his mind, and envying John, whose loud
breathing proclaimed that no anxieties disturbed his repose, he lay
wakeful for several hours, until he, too, fell asleep.  He slept very
heavily, as might have been expected of a man tired out by exhausting
marches under a hot sun.  The night was cool, the atmosphere was
pure, and the young Englishman's rest was as peaceful as though there
were no wild beast or savage man in the world.

When he awoke, the ghostly light of dawn was glimmering in the open
doorway of the room.  Like his countrymen everywhere, he turned over
on his back, stretched himself, rubbed his eyes, and sat up.  Where
was John?  The heap of grass in the opposite corner was vacant.

"He's gone to examine his snares, I suppose," he said to himself.  "I
wonder if there's a stream where I can take a dip."

He rose, stretched himself again, feeling a little stiff, walked
through the doorway, and entered one of the passages that led to the
outside.  He was just turning a corner when, with a suddenness that
took him all aback, he came face to face with a negro, a man of huge
stature, topping him by several inches.

The white man and the black were equally surprised.  Both came to a
halt, and stood eyeing each other for a moment in silence.

The passage was open to the sky, but the light of morning was as yet
so faint that neither could see very clearly.

All at once the negro, with a roar like that of a wild beast, whipped
a curved sword out of a belt about his waist, and, springing forward,
delivered a furious sweeping cut which, if it had taken effect, must
have severed Royce's head from his shoulders.

Fortunately for him, however, he was quick of eye and wit, and nimble
in his movements.  At school he had had no match in boxing and
fencing.  Being absolutely unarmed, he had no means of parrying the
stroke; but he dropped on one knee, and the scimitar whistled within
an inch of his crown, striking with a crashing stroke the wall on his
right hand.

While the negro was still bent forward with the force of his blow,
Royce sprang low at his knees, and, tugging them towards him, brought
the man with a thud to the floor.  The sword fell from his hand and
clashed on the stone flags, and Royce reached down to get hold of it.
But the negro sprang to his feet with agility amazing in so huge a
man, and hurled himself upon the Englishman.

Royce had just time to straighten himself and prevent himself from
being thrown down; the next moment the negro's arms were about him;
he felt hot breath upon his face, and saw the gleaming teeth and
infuriated eyes of a man from whom he knew he could expect no mercy.

He was well acquainted with the styles of wrestling in vogue in
England--the Cumberland, the Devon, the Lancashire; but he was
instantly aware that the negro's method was none of these.  It was,
in fact, a form of wrestling like that which had been practised ages
ago in the Olympic games, and had no doubt been introduced into
Northern Africa by the Romans in the days of Cæsar and Pompey.  It
resembled the catch-as-catch-can style of Lancashire more nearly than
the lighter styles with which Royce was familiar.

The negro's aim seemed to be to throttle his opponent, or to squeeze
the breath out of his body; and Royce, struggle as he might, felt the
thick, muscular arms gripping him more and more closely.  Slighter in
build, he had no chance of employing the feints and tricks which
might have compensated for a less powerful physique in dealing with
an Englishman.  In that straining grasp, there was no hope for the
lesser man; in a few seconds the struggle must end.

[Illustration: AT GRIPS WITH THE NEGRO]

The encounter, the coming to grips, had happened so swiftly that
Royce had had no time to think that there was help at hand in the
shape of John.  But now, at this critical moment, when he felt that
the very life was being crushed out of him, he remembered the staunch
companion of his journey, who could not be far away.

Making a desperate effort to fill his lungs, he uttered a shout, or
rather a choking gurgle, which no one would have recognised as the
voice of an Englishman.  The negro laughed, anticipating the moment
when the white man would lie limp and lifeless at his feet.  Bub
John, climbing the hill with a rabbit dangling in his hand, heard the
two sounds--the gasping cry, the loud, mocking laugh.  Hastening
forward at a run, he shouted aloud, giving a long, penetrating note
like the yodel of the Swiss mountain shepherd.  The sound, growing
louder moment by moment, came to the ears of the negro.  He realised
instantly that, unless he could dispose of the Englishman at once, he
would soon have two men to deal with.

The encouraging sound gave Royce new strength.  He put forth his last
energies to resist the strangling grip.

"_Yoi-aloo!  Yoi-aloo!_"

The newcomer was close at hand.  The panting negro lowered his arms,
caught Royce about the hips, and tried to lift him, intending to dash
him upon the floor.  Royce flung his legs about the giant's thighs,
stiffened his muscles, and dragged with all his force upon the
negro's shoulders.

"_Yoi-aloo!  Yoi-aloo!_"

The game was up!  The negro dared not wait longer.  Loosening his
grip, he wrenched himself out of Royce's entwining arms, thrust him
away, and, turning about, rushed through the passage into the open.
There he saw John hurrying up within twenty paces of him, and
swerving to the left, in five seconds had disappeared among the
bushes.



CHAPTER III

THE STORY OF GORUBA

Royce, when the negro left him, was breathless from the struggle.
But he had the presence of mind to run back to the room where he had
passed the night, pick up his rifle and revolver from the floor, and
hurry to the entrance.  There John met him.  The anxious alarm on the
Hausa's face gave way to a broad smile when he saw that his master
was safe.

"Where is that ruffian?" asked Royce, looking round for his assailant.

"Him run away quick," replied John, pointing to the bushes.  "Berry
much 'fraid of me."

"You were just in time, John.  He was crushing me to a jelly.  It's a
lesson to me not to part with my revolver for an instant.  You saw no
other black men about?"

"No, sah.  Him berry big chap, sure 'nuff."

"A giant!  I am bruised all over.  I met him as I was coming out for
a bathe, and he sprang at me at once.  Why should he do that?"

"Bad fella, sah."

"I daresay; but it was something more than original sin.  He went for
me with as much ferocity as an eagle whose nest I disturbed once.
Does this place belong to him, I wonder?"

John could only repeat that the man was a "bad fella."  But Royce
felt a good deal puzzled.  The negro's savage onslaught might be
explained by his regarding the white man as a robber, but there
appeared to be nothing in the place worth stealing.  It was strange
that he should have so fiercely resented what was, after all, an
innocent intrusion.

"We'll have another look round before we start," said Royce.  "Or,
rather, I will.  You keep guard at the doorway, John, and call me if
you see anyone moving about outside."

Royce searched the building thoroughly.  The result confirmed his
overnight impression, that it was in a fair state of preservation.
But there was nothing in any of the rooms to indicate present or even
remote occupation.  Except for fragments of stone and rubble, they
were bare.  There was nothing to tempt a robber.  Royce could only
conclude that the man had attacked him from an instinct of
self-preservation.  What had led him to enter the building was a
mystery.

Royce returned to John, who during his absence had kindled a fire,
skinned the rabbit, and set it to roast.  They made a good breakfast,
then started in the direction of the village where Royce hoped to
purchase food for his men.

"We must keep a good look-out," he said, "in case that fellow should
be one of a band prowling about here.  He won't be difficult to
recognise.  There can't be many men of his height and size.  And if
there were, I should know him again by some strange marks on his
face.  Why do these black men gash themselves, John?"

"To make him look pretty, sah."

"Um!  They've a queer notion of beauty, then."

Anxious to accomplish his errand and return to Challis, Royce pushed
on as rapidly as possible.  The country was pathless, for the most
part flat, with undulations here and there, covered with thick bush
varied by an occasional gum-tree.  Drysdale's rough sketch-map gave
him little more than a bare direction, and he had to trust a good
deal to luck.  After three hours' steady marching, which ought to
have brought them to the village, if the estimate of its distance
were correct, they were still in the same wild, barren country,
without a sign of mankind.  It seemed probable that they had overshot
the mark, so, after taking a short rest, they altered their direction
in the hope of discovering a path.

It was late in the afternoon, and they were very tired, when at last
they struck into a narrow, beaten track, far to the left of their
original course.

"This looks promising," said Royce.  "We'll make a spurt, John."

Another half-hour brought them to cultivated fields.  Crossing these,
they found themselves faced by a mud wall, fourteen or fifteen feet
high, pierced by a single gate.  This was closed.

"It's a town, after all," said Royce; "not a village.  So much the
better, if the people are friendly.  Give them a call, John."

[Illustration: JOHN ADDRESSES THE SENTRY]

The Hausa let out his long yodelling cry.  A head was seen peering
over the top of the wall.  John lifted both hands, and spread them,
palms open, as a sign of friendliness; then began an address in the
native tongue, somewhat as follows:

"Ho, you admirable watchman of a noble chief!  Tell your kind and
worthy lord that a stranger from the lands of the Great White King
seeks to look upon his face, and have a friendly talk with him.  My
lord and master is a very great man, with horses and cattle in number
as the grains in a cornfield, and it is a great honour that he does
to your chief.  Open, then, your gate, and let this great lord enter;
and, as he passes, let your people fall to the ground, and throw
earth upon their bodies, as befits folk who are but as worms in his
sight."

Unconscious of the extravagant claims made on his behalf, Royce leant
on his rifle, waiting.  The head disappeared.  Some minutes elapsed;
then the watchman came back to his perch, and a long conversation
ensued between him and the Hausa, who grew more and more excited, and
raised his voice until it became almost a yell.

"What is it all about?" asked Royce, beginning to suspect that his
man was growing impolite.

"Son of a dog, dat fella!" replied John indignantly.  "He want to
know too much.  Talk 'bout sah's father and mother, how many wives,
what he come for, too much!"

"Did you tell him I want to buy food?"

"No, sah; I tell him----"

"Then do so at once," Royce interrupted sternly.

In a more subdued tone of voice, John gave his message.  The man
again withdrew.

After another interval, the gate was thrown open, and Royce,
entering, found himself among a band of stalwart natives, carrying
long, broad-bladed spears, and marked on each cheek, near the ear,
with five or six narrow cuts, the badge of their tribe.  Escorted by
them, and watched by a curious crowd of townsfolk, Royce proceeded to
the chief's large mud house in the centre of the town.

On entering he was greeted with the words: "_Sanu, bature!_" (Hail,
white man!) from a stout, pleasant-faced, bearded black man, somewhat
past middle age, who motioned to him to be seated, and ordered one of
his slaves to bring forward a present of a roasted fowl.

The customary salutations passed between host and visitor.  Royce had
already learnt to endure this lengthy ceremony with patience.  It was
something like this:

_John_: "Hail, chief!  Is it well with you?"

_Chief_: "It is well."

_John_: "Allah be praised!  Is it well with your wives?"

_Chief_: "It is well."

_John_: "Allah be praised!  Is it well with your children?"

_Chief_: "It is well."

_John_: "Allah be praised!  And your horses?"

_Chief_: "It is well."

_John_: "Allah be praised!  And your cattle?"

_Chief_: "They are well."

_John_: "Allah be praised!  Your house and all that is yours?"

_Chief_: "All is well."

_John_: "Allah be praised!"

And then they got to business.  The chief apologised for the delay in
opening the gate.  His watchmen had to be careful, because it was
reported that Tubus were in the neighbourhood.  A few days before a
fugitive had come in from the westward, and told how his village had
been raided and destroyed.  From the chief's description, Royce
gathered that this was the village which he had himself seen, and
near which Challis was encamped.

Royce then explained the object of his visit, instructing John to
translate exactly what he said, without adding or subtracting
anything.  The chief at once agreed to sell a quantity of millet and
manioc for the men, and to present Royce with a few dozen eggs--an
offer which Royce gracefully accepted, though he knew that most of
the eggs would turn out to be bad.  The African native can never
understand the white man's squeamishness in the matter of addled eggs.

The next question was about the transportation of the food to the
camp, nearly twenty miles distant.  At first the chief, for fear of
the Tubus, was reluctant to supply carriers.  But when Royce
explained that there had been no sign of Tubus on the way, and that
the area of their depredations appeared to be considerably to the
west, he yielded, and gave orders for the food to be loaded into
calabashes, and for a dozen slaves to be ready to start with them in
the morning.

It was clearly too late for a start to be made that evening, though
Royce was very anxious to get back to his friend.  He accepted the
chief's hospitality for the night, and, though very tired, kept up a
tedious conversation with him through John.  In the course of this he
related the incident of the early morning.

The chief seemed amused at the thought of a wrestling match between
an Englishman and a negro, and laughed heartily at the negro running
away on hearing John's cry, "_Yoi-aloo!_" which he made the Hausa
repeat again and again.  But his amusement soon gave place to alarm,
his smiles to a look of thoughtfulness.  He had asked Royce to
describe the negro.  He seemed little impressed by details of the
man's height and size, but when Royce mentioned that he had noticed
two straight cuts down the middle of each cheek he uttered a sudden,
sharp exclamation.

"Goruba!"

"What does he mean by Goruba?" asked Royce of John, after a brief
silence.

The chief seemed to deliberate whether he should speak or not.  At
last he said:

"I will tell the white man--my friend.  Years ago I was chief of only
a small village, and lord of little wealth.  And I sought to increase
my wealth by prudent trading, to which end I hunted the elephant, and
sold his tusks to merchants from the East.  And one time, having got
together some few tusks in readiness for the barter, I was beset in
my village by a horde of strange warriors, armed with guns, a terror
to all my people.  And these evil-doers came to me and made me
captive, and demanded that I should deliver up to them those few
tusks which were the spoil of my hunting.  And, when I refused, they
treated me shamefully and cruelly, so that I bear the marks on my
body to this day.  And there was no help for me, no hope of
deliverance; and then, for the safety of my life, I was fain to
yield, and saw myself robbed of the treasure that had fallen to my
spear.

"And the captain of those wretches, he that put me to the torture,
was a man of vast stature and the strength of a giant, Goruba by
name.  He was from the east country, the slave of Rabeh, King of Dar
Runga, who laid waste all the lands on this side of the great lake,
and whose warriors were as locusts on the face of the earth.

"It was a good day for all this country when Rabeh was slain, and his
men were scattered to the winds.  I knew not what had become of
Goruba, one of his chiefest captains; but in very truth it was he
that laid hands on you, for his stature and those marks upon his
cheeks betray him.  And this news that you give me is heavy upon my
heart, for without doubt Goruba is again prowling like a lion about
these lands, and many a village will fall a prey to him."

Royce did his best to reassure the chief, pointing out that Goruba
had been alone, and there was no evidence that he was the leader of
any considerable body of men.  This somewhat heartened the old man,
who declared, however, that he would henceforth be doubly watchful,
and advised the white man to leave the country as soon as possible.

"I shall go at my own time," said Royce quietly.  "I thank you for
your warning, and will do what I can to repay your kindness."

Next morning he left the village with John and a dozen carriers, well
loaded with food-stuffs, and hastened at his best pace to rejoin his
friend.



CHAPTER IV

RUSHED BY TUBUS

Challis, after Royce had left him, felt somewhat uneasy.  Royce had
spoken hopefully of getting back on the following day, but Challis,
remembering the difficulties of finding the way in a strange country,
was pretty sure that Royce had overestimated his powers, and was
prepared to be left in sole charge for at least two days, and perhaps
three.  It was not a pleasant prospect, for the raiders could not be
very far away, and the possibility of being attacked was disturbing.
He kept a smiling face, however, and said nothing about his anxieties
to the boys.

The first thing to do was to form as secure a camp as possible.  The
camping arrangements had been interrupted by the discussion leading
to Royce's departure.  As soon as Royce was gone, Challis took the
matter in hand.

The spot which Royce had suggested as suitable for the camp was a
knoll, on which a few palm-trees grew, at one end of the village, and
Challis was rather surprised to find that, during his conversation
with Royce, the Hausas had not made a start.  Wearing woe-begone
expressions on their faces, they were squatting beside their packages.

"Now, Kulana," said Challis to the second in command, "what are you
all idling for?  Carry the stuff to those palm-trees yonder."

The men got up obediently, but they appeared to have a strange
hesitation in lifting their loads.

"Come, come!" said Challis.  "I know that you are done up, but you
are not so bad as all that.  Besides, it's only a few yards away, and
the sooner we form camp the sooner you'll get to sleep."

There was a murmuring among them.  Still they did not offer to lift
the bundles.

Challis curbed his rising anger.  The men were usually so willing
that he wished not to be hard on them.  And both Royce and he had
already taken much interest in studying the queer moods and ideas of
these Africans.

"What is troubling them, Kulana?" he asked quietly.

The Hausa looked him full in the face, and, seeing no anger there,
replied:

"No want camp dar, sah--berry bad place."

"Oh!  Why is that?"

And then the man began to pour out an explanation of which at first
Challis could make nothing.  Kulana's English was not adequate to
express his thoughts.  He talked of "debbils" and "bad medicine," and
went through a pantomime of gestures expressing fear and fright, the
other men listening intently, and murmuring approval now and then.

After a time, however, Challis had a glimmering of light.

"You think the spirits of the dead men haunt the village--is that it?
And you are afraid they will come and bother you during the night?"

"Sah savvy all 'bout it," said the man, delighted that his meaning
was understood.

The others clapped their hands, and looked much more cheerful.

"Well, I don't want you to see black ghosts, I'm sure," Challis went
on.  "I don't know that I'd like to see them myself.  We'll find
another place."

The men shouted, and springing to their feet, hoisted their loads
with alacrity.  Challis reflected that the work of constructing a
camp more in the open would be good for them, preventing them from
brooding over their troubles, real and imaginary.

After a rapid glance around, he led them to an open spot at some
little distance from the village, and ordered them to make a small
zariba with branches from the bushes around.  It was an excellent
situation for a camp.  Its openness rendered it possible to detect
the approach of an enemy, and a small stream running close by
furnished an ample supply of water.

As he had expected, the work of cutting the bushes took the men's
minds from their misfortunes.  They soon began to chatter with their
usual cheerfulness.  By nightfall they had constructed a thick fence
six feet high and several yards square.  The tent was erected in the
middle of the enclosure, the baggage was placed against one of the
walls, and the men, tired out, but no longer despondent, were ready
for their supper.

Challis dealt out pills to the ailing ones, promised them all a long
rest on the following day, and spoke confidently of the speedy return
of his companion with ample supplies.  He arranged for the watching
of the camp during the night, and, as an extra precaution, set his
alarm clock, when he himself turned in, so that it wakened him in an
hour.  Then he took a look round, set the clock again for an hour
ahead, and so on, through the night.  He enjoyed the inestimable
power of sleeping at any minute.

The night passed quietly.  In the morning, Challis sent two of the
men outside the zariba to fetch water and to take a look round.

When they returned they were rather excited.  They explained that
they had made two discoveries.  One was that across the stream lay an
extensive swamp, upon which they had seen a large flock of birds
pecking for worms.  The other was that a little farther off was a
banana plantation, which had escaped the ravages of the raiders.

"Good boys!" said Challis.  "We will make some use of your news by
and by."

The presence of the birds and the bananas afforded a welcome
opportunity of replenishing their scanty larder.  Challis decided to
go out and try his skill as a sportsman.  There would be some risk,
of course, that the noise of his gun might attract the notice of
undesirable visitors; but there was very little food of any kind
left, and poultry would be a treat to the men.  In view of the
possibility of Royce's return being delayed, it seemed too good a
chance to be neglected.  Besides, he reflected, there was no other
village in the neighbourhood, and the raiders, having accomplished
their destructive work only too completely, were probably by this
time far away.  After he had made a bag of birds, he would send out
some men to gather bananas, and the party would revel in a regular
banquet.

Accordingly, he ordered Kulana to keep a careful watch, and on no
account to allow the men to move outside the zariba; then, taking his
shot-gun, he set out for the swamp, with the two who had brought the
information, to retrieve the game.

The swamp was half-a-mile away, and Challis found it necessary to
walk round it for some distance before he could get a fair shot at
the birds, which had settled down in a bed of rushes.  They appeared
to be a variety of pigeon, a delicacy which the men would appreciate
after living almost wholly on meal.

When he had located the game, he sent his men forward to start them.
The instant they rose in the air he let fly with both barrels in
rapid succession, and brought down a bird with each shot.  Following
up the rest of the covey until they settled again, he killed another
brace, and so went on for nearly an hour, until there were as many
birds as the men could carry.

His success had quite banished the misgivings with which he had
started.  Picturing the delight of his boys at getting a whole day's
good eating, he had given the order to return, and was half-way back
to camp, when he was startled by a great shouting and commotion from
its direction.

Sprinting on at full speed, he was just in time to see a number of
his boys running across the open space in front of the zariba,
closely pursued by a dozen horsemen.  The runners, who appeared to be
laden with bananas, darted into the enclosure through the gap they
had left in the fence; but before they could draw the rough gate
across it, the foremost horsemen galloped through at their heels.

Challis guessed in a moment what had happened.  The men's appetite
had been whetted by the report of the nearness of a banana
plantation.  They had been too childishly impatient to await his
return, and, either with Kulana's consent or in defiance of him, they
had gone out to gather the fruit, only to be surprised by some
wandering tribe.

He rushed impetuously across the open space to the support of his
men, not staying to reflect that he could do nothing really
effective.  Besides his shot-gun, he carried a revolver.  The
horsemen had fire-arms, which they had not used as yet, feeling no
doubt that their swords were sufficient for the work in hand.  Some
of the Hausas had rifles, but it was clear that they were too much
paralysed by the appearance of a mounted enemy to make use of them.
They were yelling with fright.

Before Challis was half-way to the zariba, a second party of horsemen
broke from cover in the direction of the village, and rode straight
at him.  Flinging up his shot-gun, he emptied the barrels almost at
random; then drew his revolver.  But at that moment a shot from the
pistol of one of the galloping horsemen struck him above the wrist,
and the revolver fell to the ground.  In another second he was spun
round by the impact of a horse's shoulder, reeled, and fell.  The
horsemen galloped over him on their way to the zariba, and before he
lost consciousness it seemed to him that he had been kicked and
trampled by a hundred hoofs.



CHAPTER V

UNDER THE LASH

Challis opened dazed eyes upon a scene that bewildered him, and for a
few moments he could not account for the pains that gripped all his
limbs.  Remembrance stole back into his reviving consciousness, and
gradually he became aware of the meaning of what he saw.

The zariba had been demolished.  At one side of what had been his
camp a number of horses were tethered.  In the centre his Hausa boys
were busily packing the baggage, much more rapidly than Challis had
ever seen them doing it before.  The reason of their haste was easily
discovered.  Over them stood a circle of negroes, who urged them with
fierce cries and drawn swords.  The camp had fallen into the hands of
an enemy.

And it was not long before Challis guessed who this enemy was.  Only
one tribe in this part of Africa, so far as he knew, rode horses.
These men must be Tubus from across the Yo--the ruthless brigands who
were the terror of the country.  It could hardly be doubted that
these were the men who had raided the village, and left only too
clear proofs of their merciless ferocity.

Apparently there had been no fight at the zariba.  The Hausas, armed
though they were, had succumbed without a struggle.  The truth was
that, in disobedience to Challis's order, some of the men had left
the camp, and been pounced on suddenly by the enemy.  As they fled
back to the zariba, their comrades dared not fire for fear of hitting
them, and the swift onset of the horsemen had made resistance
hopeless.

Aching all over, Challis struggled to his feet.  Immediately a hand
was laid upon him from behind.  He noticed that his wrist was
bleeding, and taking out his handkerchief, he began to wind it round
the wound as his captor pushed him towards the centre of the camp.
And then from behind the horses there came forth a huge negro, taller
than he by six or seven inches, with massive shoulders and muscular
arms.

The giant's face broke into a grin as he approached the Englishman.
He uttered some words which Challis did not understand, but which
seemed to have in them the ring of triumph.

"I have caught you, white face!" was what he said.

As to the white man all negroes seem at first alike, so to Goruba
Challis at this moment appeared to be the man with whom he had
wrestled at dawn of day.

He spoke again, addressing Challis; then, recognising that he was not
understood, he called for one of the Hausas to come and interpret.
Kulana came up, and keeping his eyes averted from Challis, he
translated what the big man said.

"What are you doing in this country?"

Challis quickly made up his mind to give no information, trusting
that he might at least save Royce from his own fate.  He refused to
speak.  The next question puzzled him, but confirmed him in his
resolution.

"What were you doing in my fort?"

Though he made no reply, it was plain that he showed his surprise in
the expression of his face, for Goruba looked hard at him, and seemed
to be in some puzzlement himself.  Then the negro's harsh features
darkened with anger.  He flourished his sword.

"Dog!  This will make you speak!" he shouted.

Challis looked at him, without quailing, and did not flinch when the
sword was flashed across his eyes.  His courage seemed to impress
Goruba, who laughed, spat on the ground, and giving an order to his
men to keep guard over the prisoner, walked away with Kulana into the
midst of the sweating Hausas.

What he had failed to elicit from the Englishman his threats soon
extracted from the carriers.  He learnt that there was another white
man, who had set out on the previous afternoon for a village to the
north, to buy provisions.  He chuckled on receiving this information.
There was little doubt what village the white man he had met in the
fort was bound for.  He chuckled again.  The white man was no doubt
on his way back to the camp.  It would not be difficult to waylay him.

The work of packing was completed.  Goruba ordered the Hausas to
mount their loads.  Their rifles, with Challis's, were in the
possession of his men.  When all was ready, the Tubus leapt to their
saddles, and the whole party set off northwards, Challis being tied
to the saddle of one of the horses.

Often on that march Challis's blood boiled as he saw how his men were
treated, and knew his helplessness to defend them.  The Tubus urged
them with whips, sometimes with the points of their swords.  The
wretched Hausas, some of whom were weak with sickness, panted along
under their loads, striving to keep pace with the impatient horsemen.
They dared not even groan, for a murmur brought the lash on their
shoulders.  When Challis protested through Kulana, explaining that
the men were ill, Goruba only grinned and mocked him.

By-and-by, however, it became apparent to Goruba that the men were
incapable of further marching.  The slave-driver is usually callous
enough as to the fate of his victims; he will watch them with
unconcern growing weaker and weaker, see them drop in their tracks,
sometimes kill them in sheer rage at their inability to keep up.  But
Goruba did not wish to lose these men.  They were themselves
valuable.  They bore valuable loads.  It would be a mistake to
over-drive them.  In the afternoon, therefore, some hours earlier
than a march is usually ended, he gave the order to halt.  The Hausas
laid down their burdens, and threw themselves on the ground in utter
exhaustion.

[Illustration: THE PRISONER]

Challis himself was in little better case.  He had not been given a
load to carry, but he had felt himself growing weaker and weaker as
the day wore on.  Though his wound was not serious, he had lost some
blood, and was enfeebled by the shock and the bruises he had suffered
in the trampling.  When he lagged on the march, the man to whose
saddle he was fastened prodded him in the back with the point of his
spear.  His own sufferings, and the sufferings of his men, made him
realise with new force the horrors of slave-driving, which, in spite
of all efforts to crush it, still exists in parts of the dark
continent.

It was therefore with inexpressible relief that he welcomed the order
to halt.  The place chosen for camp was the crest of a slight
undulation.  The soil was sandy, and hot from the beating of the sun
upon it all day.  There were a few scrubby bushes dotted around, but
no grass.  Nor was there a stream in which the marchers could bathe
their burning feet.

The Tubus fetched water from a small water-hole near by.  They made a
meal of the provisions carried in their wallets.  The Hausas consumed
the last of their food.

Challis was forced to ask permission to open one of the tins of
preserved meat which formed part of the men's loads.  The Tubus
gathered round him, and watched with childish curiosity as he cut the
tin open.  They were mute with astonishment when they saw what it
contained.  They hardly allowed Challis time to take from it
sufficient for his supper, before they began to quarrel about the
ownership of the tin.

Goruba, hearing the noise, came and settled the matter by swallowing
the rest of the meat in two or three great gulps, and taking the tin
as a present for one of his wives.

Challis was too tired and weak to care what was done.  There was no
bed but the hot dry sand; but after eating a little he stretched
himself on the spot assigned to him in the centre of the encampment,
and forgot his sufferings for a time in a troubled sleep.



CHAPTER VI

THE NORTHWARD TRAIL

The information which the old chief had given Royce influenced his
choice of route when he started on his return journey.

"You see, John," he said to the headman, "we don't want to meet this
Goruba again.  No doubt he stumbled on us by accident, and we have no
reason to suppose that he has any particular spite against white men;
certainly I had done nothing to upset him.  But as he appears to be a
dangerous character, we had better keep out of his way.  Don't you
think so?"

"Dat all same berry good, sah," said John.

"Then we won't go back by way of the fort," Royce pursued.  "I dare
say, indeed, these men know a nearer way to the village.  Ask them."

The carriers assured John, when he questioned them, that they knew a
much nearer way, by which they would leave the fort a long distance
on their right.  Royce therefore left the leadership to their
headman, who carried no load, and went on with him, slightly ahead of
the rest, to keep a good look-out in case of possible danger.

It was not until they had been marching for an hour or more that the
suspicion flashed upon him that Goruba might have been concerned in
the raid on the ruined village.  True, John had said that the raiders
were Tubus, and Goruba was not a Tubu, but probably, from his
appearance, and from what the chief had said, a Nubian.  But,
remembering that Rabeh, Goruba's former master, had himself been a
slave, who had gradually worked his way up to the lordship of a
considerable empire, Royce wondered whether Goruba had raised himself
to a similar position among the Tubus.

A puzzling fact was that he had appeared at the fort alone.  As
Rabeh's lieutenant he no doubt had made himself so much hated in this
part of the country that he could expect no mercy if he fell into the
hands of any of his former victims.  It seemed therefore unlikely
that he was really quite alone.  He must belong to a party, and what
could be more probable than that he was a member, if not the leader,
of the party who had burnt the village?

The more he thought about it, the more troubled Royce became.  If the
raiders had not returned to their own country across the Yo, it was
at least possible that they might discover Challis's camp.  He was
uneasy at the idea of Challis, with his few men, of whom half were
sick, having to sustain an attack by a large body of the most
ferocious warriors known in that part of Africa.  Anxious to rejoin
his friend, Royce grew impatient at the slow pace at which the
carriers walked, heavily burdened as they were, and would have gone
on far ahead but that he felt himself responsible to the chief for
their safety.

It was fortunate that he had decided to avoid the fort on his return
journey.  Goruba had dispatched a small band of his best men to lie
in wait there, and ambush the white man and his follower.  They were
lurking in the precincts of the fort at the very moment when Royce
and his party were making a bend to the south about a mile distant.

The route followed by the headman of the carriers led through a
considerable stretch of wooded country.  The headman told John that
he would not have chosen that way but for his master's desire to
avoid the fort, although it was shorter.  When John asked him why, he
explained that the woodland was the resort of large herds of
elephants, of which the carriers were somewhat afraid.  It would have
been different had they not been carrying loads.  They were bold
enough when they accompanied the chief on hunting expeditions, and
had spears in their hands.  But with heavy loads on their heads they
felt helpless if the great beasts should chance to cross their path.

Once or twice, as they pressed on at their best pace, they heard a
great crashing among the trees.  Their scent, carried on the breeze,
had disturbed the elephants browsing in the thickets.  The sound
alarmed the men, but Royce, when John told him what caused it,
explained that the elephants were just as anxious to avoid them as
they were to avoid the elephants.

"What the white man says may be true," said the headman.  "But
sometimes the scent of men makes the elephants angry, and then they
seek the men, and do not run away."

They passed through the woodland without encountering elephants, and
found themselves on the low shore of an extensive lake, the remoter
border of which was overhung by low cliffs.  The negroes were careful
to keep at a good distance from the brink of the water.  Alligators
might often be met with on the mud flats, lying so still, and being
so much the colour of the ground, that their presence was sometimes
only known by the shrieks of some hapless victim whom one had seized.

As they were skirting the lake, John suddenly gave a shout, and
pointed to what appeared to be a greyish-black ridge just projecting
above the surface of the water.  This object seemed to swell, the
water was disturbed, and at one end of the ridge emerged the ugly
head of a hippopotamus.

"Hippo meat berry fine, sah!" said John longingly.

"I daresay, but I am not going to shoot when I don't know who may be
about," Royce returned.  "And don't shout again, John, whatever you
may see.  I am not anxious to meet that giant Goruba again."

They left the lake behind, and by dint of hard marching through rough
and scrubby country reached the neighbourhood of the ruined village a
little before nightfall.  Approaching it on a different side from
that by which he had left it, Royce would not have recognised it but
for the assurance of his guides.

He hurried along with John at the head of the party through the
desolate blackened street until he reached the palm-trees, where he
expected to find the camp.  To his surprise there was no sign of an
encampment having been there, nor, looking round, could he discover
Challis or any of the boys.

"What does this mean, John?" he asked, feeling very uneasy.

John looked puzzled for a moment or two; then his face lightened as
the explanation struck him.

"Boys 'fraid of debbils, sah," he said.  "Massa Chally find 'nother
place."

Somewhat relieved, Royce hastened on with the man, hoping to see his
friend at no great distance.  In a few minutes they caught sight of
the scattered material of the zariba.  In the enclosure was a round
mark upon the ground, indicating where the tent had stood, and
blackened spots where the men had kindled their fires.  But all the
baggage was gone, except one tent-peg.  There was nothing else save a
number of empty banana skins.

Royce paused in dismay.  John looked about with the air of a man in
fear.  And then there was a sudden cry from one of the carriers, as
they came up toiling under their loads.  They halted, dropped their
burdens, and, collecting in a group, stood staring at the ground.

Royce and John hurried to them, wondering what had attracted their
attention.  They were looking with terror at some dull reddish
splashes on the soil.

Royce's heart sank.  It was inconceivable that Challis had moved camp
of his own accord.  He must have been attacked.  The bloodstains
seemed to indicate that there had been a fight; yet they were very
few, and all at one spot.  He looked about, dreading to see dead
bodies in the neighbourhood of the enclosure.  The relief he felt at
finding none was smothered by a great anxiety.  It seemed only too
certain that, fight or no fight, the camp had been captured, and all
within it carried away.

For some little time they all stood silent.  Then the headman
suddenly started, threw up his arms, and with a howl of fright took
to his heels, and ran fleetly back along the way he had come.
Instantly his companions followed him; in a few seconds they had
disappeared.  Royce was left alone with John.

The Hausa had already discovered the cause of their sudden stampede.
He had caught sight of a black form skulking among some thin bush at
no great distance from the camp.

Just as he pointed him out to his master, looking much inclined to
bolt after the carriers, the figure moved towards them, hastening its
steps, and revealing itself to be that of one of their own men.  The
carriers, no doubt, had supposed him to be one of the party who had
rushed the camp, and feared that the rest were somewhere near.

John ran to him, asking eagerly what had become of Massa Chally.  The
man explained that he and another had accompanied Massa Chally when
he went shooting birds, and on their return had seen thousands of
Tubus swoop down on the camp.  Being himself somewhat in the rear of
the other two, he had concealed himself, and the birds he carried, in
the bush, and remained there until the prisoners had been taken away.
So far as he knew, he was the only one who had escaped.  Fearing to
leave the spot, he had waited there, knowing that Massa Royce would
return by-and-by.

"Was there a fight?" asked Royce.

The man replied that Massa Chally had fired his gun, but was himself
wounded and ridden down by the horsemen.  No one else had fired.
Most of the men were laden with bananas, and the horsemen had come
upon them so suddenly that there was no time to do anything.

Bad as the news was, Royce recognised a reason for thankfulness in
that Challis had not been killed.  The carrier was firm on that
point.  He had seen the white man tied to a saddle, and taken away
with the rest.

"Which way did they go?" Royce asked.

The man pointed towards the north.

Royce stood pondering.  What was to be done?  It was unthinkable that
he should leave Challis and the faithful boys to their fate, even
though by following them up he should share it.  Challis might
escape, in which case he would need help, and the nearer Royce was to
him the better.  But Challis was not the man to desert his negroes,
and the chance that all would be able to escape together was slight.

The longer Royce thought over the problem, the less likely did it
appear that he could do anything for his friend.  Yet he must make an
attempt.  Were the positions reversed, he knew that Challis would try
to do something for him.

"We must go after them, John," he said at last.

"Save Massa Chally, sah--oh yes!" replied John, trying to look
cheerful.

The other man was too much terrified of solitude to raise any
objection, though he was inwardly trembling at the thought of meeting
the Tubus.

"What can we do with these provisions?" said Royce, indicating the
calabashes which the frightened carriers had dropped.  "We ought not
to leave them for the birds; they may come in handy some day."

John suggested that they should be carried into the bush, and covered
up as well as possible with the material of the dismantled zariba.
This plan seemed to be the only one possible, and the three spent
half an hour in stowing the calabashes under a thick layer of thorn
branches.

Then, providing themselves with enough food for a couple of days,
they set off on the trail of the raiders.  There was no difficulty in
following it.  The soil was sandy, and the horses had left
unmistakable traces.

"Keep your eyes open, John," said Royce.  "We must see the Tubus
before they see us."

"Savvy all same, sah," said John.  "Berry good eyes, sah--oh yes!"



CHAPTER VII

THE PYTHON

Royce and the two negroes marched steadily on, stopping only for
brief intervals of rest.  The track led northwards towards the River
Yo and the Tubus' country beyond.

Late in the afternoon they came to a spot where the trail forked.  It
was clear that part of the enemy's force had continued on the direct
northward course, while another part, apparently the smaller, had
diverged to the east.  It took John only a few seconds to determine
which of the two parties included the prisoners.  Besides the hoof
marks, there were many prints of bare feet on the soil, and among
these John detected the impressions made by Challis's boots.  These
were in the direct track going northwards.  The track diverging to
the east was made by hoofs only.

"Dem go to fort, sah--oh yes!" said John.

"Why do you think so?" Royce asked.

John grinned.

"No savvy what for," he said; "savvy all same."

Royce was aware that the fort lay eastward of them, but he had
supposed that it was rather to the south than to the north.  Like
many negroes, John, as was afterwards proved, had almost as keen a
sense of locality as a wild animal.

"If you are right," said Royce, "some of the men have probably ridden
to the fort to waylay us on our return.  That big fellow must be one
of the Tubus."

"Him no Tubu, sah," said John decisively.  "Big fella too much ugly."

As Royce had never seen a Tubu, this statement conveyed nothing to
him.  Goruba's countenance was certainly of a Nubian cast.  But he
felt assured that the man had some position of authority among the
raiders, and had either sent or led a party to attempt his capture.

He was much troubled in mind at the thought of leaving some of the
enemy in his rear.  His only chance--a slight one at the best--of
helping Challis would be wholly destroyed if the party from the fort
came up behind him, and discovered him before he had time to go into
hiding.  There was no sign of that party having already returned and
rejoined the main body.  The one hope he had was that the men in
ambush at the fort, after waiting there all day, had now given up the
idea of waylaying him, and had struck into the northward route at
some point far ahead.

Less than an hour of daylight remained; it would soon be dark, and
the Tubus were not more likely than any other native tribe to
continue their journey in darkness.  So Royce felt that if he escaped
notice until sunset he would be pretty safe until next morning dawned.

The sun went down, and the three men halted.

"Where are we to camp, John?" asked Royce.

The Hausa looked around.  There was no shelter anywhere on the
ground, but at a little distance from the track a solitary large tree
reared itself to a height of some fifty feet.

"Dat's him, sah!" cried the man.  "Sleep in tree; berry nice."

"It won't be the first time," thought Royce, remembering a certain
hot afternoon years before, when he and Challis, happy-go-lucky
schoolboys, had dozed the hours away in the fork of an elm
overlooking the cricket-field.

They sat down on the ground to eat their frugal supper.  John was
quite concerned at having nothing better to offer his master than
some parched grain and a few nuts, and vigorously rated the carrier
for not bringing some of the birds Challis had shot.  He wanted to
kindle a fire and give the food at least a little flavour by
roasting, but Royce would not allow it.

"We don't know how near the Tubus are," he said.  "They might see the
flame, or smell the smoke.  I shall do very well as it is, John."

Then they climbed the tree one after another, Royce envying the
agility with which the barefooted negroes mounted, and selected, each
for himself, a secure perch among the branches.

The two Hausas fell asleep instantly.  Royce, however, found his
quarters very unpleasant.  They were not in the least like the cool
elm he remembered so vividly.  Mosquitoes and a thousand other small
insects buzzed about him, settling upon face and arms, some to sting,
others to bite, until he was in torture.  He swung his arms about to
ward them off, and covered his face with his handkerchief, tucking it
under his helmet and into the collar of his coat.  But the terrible
pests defied all his efforts to protect himself, and he gave up at
last, resigning himself to endure their torments with what patience
he was master of.

It was some time, too, before he lost his fear of toppling from his
swaying perch and crashing to the ground.  The effort to secure
himself made his limbs stiff and cramped, and he looked forward to a
night of sleeplessness and pain.  But sleep crept upon him unawares.
He fell into a doze, uneasy indeed, and fitful, but yet giving
blessed intervals of oblivion.

From one of these spells of slumber, Royce suddenly started to
wakefulness and a strange feeling of terror.  He had not been
dreaming; by this time he was so much accustomed to the stings of the
insects as to be almost unconscious of them.  Yet he was bathed in
sweat, and felt as though some fearful doom were hanging over him.
He lay panting in the crook of the branches.

What was this strange, musty odour of which he was now aware?  What
was the cause of the dreadful feeling of sickness that chilled his
skin?  Unable to account for his wretched state, he lay still, hoping
that the feeling would pass.

The foliage rustled above and around him; insects hummed; in the
distance he heard the wailing call of some strange night bird, the
booming note of a giant frog, the bark of a beast of prey.  In these
there was nothing alarming.  But his uneasiness, the sense of
impending danger, grew upon him, and at last, unable to endure the
mysterious feeling any longer, he was on the point of awakening John,
for the mere relief and pleasure of hearing a human voice, when all
at once the other man, farther from him, uttered a shriek of mortal
terror.

[Illustration: IN THE PYTHON'S TOILS]

The effect upon Royce was as startling as the shock from an electric
current.  He started up, almost losing his balance.  The cry had this
good result, that it enabled him to shake off the numbing horror that
had oppressed him.  Groping in his pocket, he drew out a small
electric torch which he used but sparingly, because of the
impossibility of re-charging it.  With the other hand he seized his
revolver.

A flash of the torch made all terribly clear.  The hapless carrier
was in the toils of an immense snake.  John crouched near him,
paralysed with horror.  The snake was gradually tightening its hold,
and its hideous head was swaying within a few feet of its victim.

Royce snapped his revolver at the reptile's head.  The shot went
wide.  He fired again.  This time his aim was true.  For a moment the
snake convulsively tightened its coils about the inert black body,
causing the man to groan under the crushing pressure.  Then the coils
relaxed, the head drooped, and in a few moments the monster dropped
with a thud upon the ground.



CHAPTER VIII

SETTING A TRAP

There was no more sleep for any of the three that night.  Royce's
nerves were on edge; the negroes, though they recovered sooner than
he from the shock, remained in a high state of excitement.  John
related a dismal story of the absorption of a cousin of his by a
snake, showing such a relish for gruesome details that Royce ordered
him to choose another subject.

With the earliest glimmer of dawn they descended from their perches.
At the foot of the tree lay an unusually large specimen of the
African python, measuring at least eighteen feet.  Royce shuddered at
the thought of the fate which the Hausa had so narrowly escaped.

They made the best breakfast they could, and as soon as it was light
enough to mark the trail, they set off again in the track of the
enemy.

Royce knew that, lightly burdened as he and his companions were,
their speed was likely to be much greater than that of the raiders,
whose pace must be regulated by the men carrying heavy loads.  So he
was not surprised, after marching only two or three hours, to reach
the spot where the party had encamped during the night.

From the aspect of the place, and the still warm embers of fires,
John guessed that the camp had been broken up rather later in the
morning than usual, and not very long before his arrival.  This
conclusion led him to press on with redoubled vigour, and at the same
time with caution.

Royce asked himself more than once what he would do when he came up
with the raiders.  Always he had to admit that he did not know.  It
was hopeless to attempt to form a plan.  Indeed, he acknowledged to
himself that the whole enterprise was pretty hopeless.  The hoof
marks and the prints of feet were so numerous that the party must be
a large one.  The Hausa had spoken of thousands of Tubus.  That was
no doubt an exaggeration; the negro is always ready to magnify
numbers; but it was almost certain that the horsemen mustered a score
or two.  What was more surprising was the character of the
footprints.  Royce's full party consisted of only sixteen carriers,
of whom two were now with him; but the depth of the impressions on
the sandy soil, rather than their number, indicated that there were
many more than fourteen prisoners.  African natives march nearly
always in single file, each man stepping in the tracks of the man in
front of him; the footprints now before him were so deeply impressed
that they must have been made by a large number of men.

Of the three trackers, John went first, as the most experienced in
travelling over this kind of country.  Every now and again he would
point to the marks of Challis's boots, when they were clearly
distinguishable from the other prints.  Presently he declared that
Massa Chally must be tied to a horse, for his footprints corresponded
regularly with the marks of four hoofs.

Towards midday the track struck into a well-beaten native path, on
which the foot-prints were less clearly marked.  It ran northward
over undulating wooded country, broken now and then by open spaces of
prairie-like land.  John declared that there were signs of their
approaching a river.

When they came to the open spaces, he slackened pace, and scouted
forward with great caution, to make sure of not stumbling upon the
rear of the enemy.  It was very unlikely that these had any idea of
being pursued, but they were in hostile country, the people in the
far-distant villages were their bitter foes, and they would hardly
neglect the usual precautions against surprise or sudden attack.

From one of these spaces, to which John had gone on ahead, he ran
back by-and-by, his eyes lit with excitement.

"See horses, sah!" he cried.

"Going from us?" asked Royce anxiously.

"Tails dis way, sah."

"Lead on slowly.  Be sure to keep out of sight."

Since the horses were moving, clearly the only thing to be done was
to keep in touch with them for the present, and seek a favourable
opportunity of ascertaining the exact strength of the party and their
order of march.

As a precaution against being discovered, Royce suggested that they
should leave the path, and pursue their course at some little
distance on one side of it or the other.  John agreed that this was
wise, though it would retard their progress.  This, however, mattered
little, seeing that they were travelling considerably faster than the
raiders were.

A little later, Royce himself, on ascending a slight eminence, caught
sight of the horsemen.

The size of the party surprised him.  At the rear were about a dozen
mounted men, more or less clothed, turbaned and armed; the sunlight
flashed on their weapons, though at the distance he could not yet
discover what those weapons were.  Beyond them, strung out in a long
line that wound like a snake over the country, was a body of more
than a hundred negroes on foot, with mounted men among them at
intervals.  At some distance ahead was another party of armed
horsemen, larger than the one in the rear.

To determine their numbers exactly was impossible.  Royce wished he
had thought of taking his field-glasses with him when he left the
camp a few nights before; they were now, he feared, among the
captured baggage, but at a rough estimate he felt sure that there
could not be fewer than forty mounted men, in charge of perhaps a
hundred and twenty captives.  It was clear that the Tubus had raided
several small villages, and that Challis and the Hausas were the
latest additions to their haul.  No doubt they were now making for
their own district across the Yo, in high spirits at the successful
results of their expedition.

Only a few minutes after Royce caught sight of them, the straggling
column came to a halt.  It was the time for their midday meal.

"Eat now, sah?" asked John.

"You can go on a bit longer?" said Royce.

"Can do same as Massa," John replied.

"Very well, then.  I suppose they will rest for a couple of hours or
more.  That gives us a chance of getting ahead of them."

"Oh yes, sah.  Get ahead, sure 'nuff."

John regarded the suggestion as one that would merely score a point
in the game.  Royce, however, had a serious object in view.  The size
of the party had made clear what he had all along suspected: that
direct intervention on his part was impossible.  What could a little
band of three, of whom only two were armed, do against so formidable
a force?

When two combatants are unequally matched, the weaker tries to
accomplish by guile what he cannot do by strength.  Royce was
wondering whether, by slipping past the raiders, and examining the
country in front, he could discover a spot where by some trick or
ambuscade he might throw them into confusion, and rescue Challis
before they had recovered from their surprise.  He had no definite
plan in mind; everything depended upon the nature of the ground.

Increasing their distance from the path, the three marched rapidly
through a belt of thin woodland which screened them sufficiently, and
came back to the track, after a long round, at a point which Royce
calculated to be a good mile ahead of the raiders.

They pressed on, avoiding the path, on which Royce's boots would have
left tell-tale tracks, but keeping as near to it as was safe.  John
halted every now and then to look back, and to listen for sounds of
the enemy's advance.  Royce gave his whole attention to the features
of the surrounding country.

As they covered mile after mile without finding a spot where anything
in the nature of an ambush could be successfully attempted, Royce's
hopes sank lower and lower.  The country became more and more hilly,
and the path followed the undulations in almost a straight line over
bare soil.  It did not pass through tracts of thick bush or clumps of
woodland, which might have afforded opportunities for an ambuscade.
Nor were there abrupt corners or overhanging banks that would have
lent themselves to the springing of a surprise on the enemy.

The Hausas wondered why their master kept on marching so doggedly,
now that they were miles ahead.

"Eat now, sah?" said John at last.

"You can eat as you walk, if you like," replied Royce, "but we won't
rest yet."

Some little while later, as they were rounding the shoulder of a low
hill, John suddenly cried:

"Ribber, sah!  Savvy ribber here all same."

"I can't see it," said Royce.

This answer appeared to tickle John, who laughed heartily.

"See him bimeby," he said.  "Hear him now."

And then Royce caught a faint sound like the rustle of leaves in the
wind.

A few minutes' walking proved that John was right.  The track made a
sharp bend.  On the left of it the ground fell away steeply to a
river valley, down which a stream was tumbling rapidly, no doubt to
join the Yo somewhere to the east.

Royce's drooping spirits took a joyous leap, for the path led down to
a frail swinging bridge which spanned the stream.  It was made of
plant rope, and looked too slight to bear the weight of more than a
few men at a time.  The possibilities of the situation flashed upon
his mind.

It was clear that the stream was not fordable at this spot, otherwise
there would be no bridge.  The African native never puts himself to
unnecessary trouble.  It was equally clear that the bridge was not
strong enough to bear the weight of horses; therefore the mounted men
would not cross here, but must go either to the right or to the left
to seek a ford.  Best of all, on the side of the track remote from
the stream, the ground rose so steeply as to form almost a precipice.
Here, if anywhere, an attempt to throw the party into confusion might
succeed, and the idea of a plan to do even more than that had already
suggested itself to Royce.

Would he be able to carry it out?  Success depended on many
conditions--the arrangements of the raiders, the nerve and quickness
of his own men, a hundred and one chances.  At any rate, it was worth
attempting.

"Gambaru," he said to the second Hausa, "climb up to the top there,
and watch for the enemy.  Lie down behind a bush, so that they will
not see you.  When you are sure what they are going to do, slide down
and tell me.  John, come down to the river with me."

On reaching the bridge, Royce first ran across it to test its
strength, then took out his pocket-knife, and cut as many of the
plant ropes as he dared without bringing the whole structure down.
John looked on in amazement.

The bridge took off from a low cliff on either side of the stream.
The banks were overgrown with thick tall bushes and reeds.

"You can hide there?" said Royce, pointing to the vegetation beneath
the nearer end of the bridge.

"Hide plenty all same, sah," replied John, looking puzzled and a
little uneasy.

"Very well.  We'll go back now, and wait for Gambaru's report.  Then
I'll tell you what to do."



CHAPTER IX

THE BROKEN BRIDGE

On returning from the bridge, Royce was too impatient to remain at
the river level and wait for news from Gambaru, perched on the
heights above.  He reflected, too, that when so much was at stake, it
was better to make his own observations than to rely on an unskilled
native.

"Gambaru's eyesight is no doubt better than mine," he thought, "but
his judgment is not likely to be.  And I've had some training in
scouting."

He clambered up the steep acclivity until, somewhat out of breath, he
reached Gambaru's side.

"Have you seen anything?" he asked.

"Nuffin, sah," the man replied.

Shading his eyes from the sun, Royce gazed earnestly over the
country.  He could see the track for nearly a mile, until it
disappeared below the shoulder of the hill a few hundred yards from
where he stood.  There was no human being in sight.

Again and again he looked, becoming more and more restless at the
non-appearance of the enemy.  He began to fear that they had diverged
from the track, and instead of directing their march towards the
bridge, had made off in a body towards a ford.

But suddenly Gambaru touched his arm.

"Dat's dem, sah!" he cried, extending his arm.  For a few moments
Royce's less perfect vision failed to descry anything upon the track
except what seemed to be a slight haze.  But at length he was able to
distinguish figures, and then he felt considerable surprise.  The men
he saw marching towards him were all on foot.  Where were the
horsemen whom he had previously seen at the head of the column?

"What uncommon luck!" he said to himself.  "They seem to have left
the track already, and gone to one side or the other to cross by some
ford they know.  It makes things easier."

He had expected the mounted men to accompany the column to the
bridge, and then part from it to find the ford.  That they had not
done so proved, first that they were very confident, and secondly
that the ford was at some considerable distance from the bridge.

The Tubus clearly expected no molestation by natives of the district,
whom they, no doubt, regarded as completely cowed.  It was equally
clear that they intended, after making their detour by the ford, to
meet the rest of the column at some spot beyond the bridge.

Taking care to keep under cover, Royce watched the procession until
the last man appeared.  All the horsemen had gone.  He made out that
there was a vanguard of about half a dozen armed men, and another
half a dozen brought up the rear.  At intervals along the column
there were about the same number, acting as escort to the prisoners.
The vanguard marched some two hundred yards ahead of the rest, who
were strung out over at least half a mile.  They marched very slowly.

It was a long time before Royce was able to distinguish the figure of
his friend.  He almost feared that Challis had been taken to the
ford, still tied to the saddle; and it gave him a thrill of joy when
at last he observed the white-clad form, about half-way down the
column.

Royce had already conceived the general idea of his ambuscade; the
absence of the horsemen promised to make its working out in detail
much easier than he could have hoped.  These details he thought out
as he watched the column slowly advancing.

His plan was to let the vanguard pass over the bridge, then to sever
them from the rest of the column by cutting the remainder of the
ropes, and afterwards to deal with the others as circumstances might
dictate.  It was this last part which had given him most anxiety.
Now, however, he rapidly made up his mind to attempt an operation
which had been suggested by the nature of the ground.

The track, it will be remembered, made a sharp bend just where it
descended to the river.  On one side was the river itself, thickly
fringed with rushes; on the other, the steep and almost precipitous
slope.  It depended on the nerve and the quickness of Gambaru whether
he could take advantage of that bend to carry out his scheme.

He rapidly explained to the man what was required of him, and was
delighted to find how quickly it was understood, and how eager the
Hausa was to assist him.  Then they slid down the slope, and while
Gambaru hid amid the rushes near the bend, Royce hurried to John,
waiting beneath the bridge.

"Six or seven Tubus will come on to the bridge," he said.  "When they
have just passed the middle, but before any of them have got to the
other side, cut all the ropes I have left uncut.  You understand?"

"Savvy all same, sah," said John, his eyes gleaming, his lips parted
in a wide grin.  "Dey go plop!"

"Then run back as fast as you can and join me.  There will be other
work for you."

He hastened back to the bend, and concealed himself by Gambaru's side
among the rushes.

It was perhaps five minutes later that the first man of the advance
guard appeared round the bend.  He walked straight down to the
bridge-head, followed by five others.  Royce watched them eagerly,
his heart beating fast.  Everything depended on what would happen in
the next minute.

To his dismay, instead of walking at once on to the bridge, they
stood in a group at the end, all talking together.  Were they going
to wait until the prisoners came down?  If they did, it would spoil
everything.

For half a minute Royce waited in a fever of suspense.  Then, to his
great joy, the men formed single file again and began to cross the
bridge.

Now he had a new anxiety--the fear that John would not act quickly
enough.  But the first of the Tubus was still some yards from the
farther bank when there was a slight swishing sound, a tremendous
splash, and a babel of yells from the men whom the cutting of the
ropes had plunged into the river.

Then John, drenched with water, but beaming with delight, came
rushing up to join his master, who, with Gambaru, had left his
hiding-place and stationed himself at the near side of the bend.

As Royce had expected, the shouts of the men had the effect of
bringing up the nearest man of the escort at the double, leaving the
group of prisoners, of which he was in charge, to follow.  The moment
he showed himself round the corner Royce dealt him a blow that
stretched him on the ground.  Gambaru, acting on Royce's
instructions, instantly pounced on the man, tore the turban from his
head, and calling to John to assist him, stuffed into his mouth a gag
made of the linen, and pinioned his arms with strips shred from his
loincloth.

Royce, meanwhile, stood waiting for the next man, at the same time
watching with some anxiety the operations of his Hausas.  All,
perhaps, depended on their quickness.  His anxiety was needless.
With ready wit John perceived the nature of his master's design, and
within twenty seconds the fallen Tubu was helpless and harmless.

[Illustration: COLLAPSE]

A few moments later a second Tubu dashed round the bend.  Like the
first, he had left his gang of prisoners, and run ahead to discover
the cause of the outcry, which had now ceased, for the men of the
advance guard had been carried far down the rapid stream.

The second man was served as the first had been.  A third and a
fourth appeared, only to meet the same fate.  Then there was a pause.
Either the remaining members of the escort had not heard their
comrades' yells, or the ensuing silence had reassured them.

Three-parts of the column of captives had meanwhile been left
unguarded.  But the wretched creatures marched slowly on.  Roped
together, men and women, with their captors before and behind, they
did not dream of attempting to escape.  They were too weary and
listless to feel any curiosity about the brief noise ahead of them.
There was nothing to flash a gleam of hope into their dejected minds.

The first gang of them, a full score in number, dragged their tired
feet round the bend.  Their heads were downcast, but a sudden
exclamation from John caused some of them to look up in startled
surprise.  Among them were Kulana and three others of Royce's
carriers.

John instantly slit the rope that fastened the first couple by the
neck, and, passing along the line, set the prisoners free one after
another.  Dejection gave way to joy, silence to shouts and laughter.

"Take those rifles and spears," said Royce to his men, pointing to
the weapons of the Tubus who had been laid low.  "Kulana, tell these
prisoners to stand aside by the river bank and keep quiet."

All this had been done out of sight of the rest of the column.  In a
few minutes the second gang came up.  These were liberated like the
first; there were three more of Royce's Hausas among them.

Again there was an interval; then the third gang appeared, and Royce
thrilled with delight when he saw Challis among them.

"Here I am, old man," he called.

Challis smiled feebly, and Royce was shocked to see the change in his
friend.  His cheeks were pale and haggard, his eyes sunken and
unnaturally bright; his figure shrunken and bent.

"I'm nearly done for," he murmured, as Royce released him.

"Poor old chap!  But we'll soon have you right again.  Just rest here
until we have finished our job.  John, get some water for Massa
Chally."

He supported Challis to the foot of the grassy slope, and settled him
comfortably there.  Then he returned to the bend.

In due order the rest of the prisoners came along, with the last two
members of the escort.  When these had been dealt with, only the six
men of the rearguard remained to be disposed of.

Wishing to avoid a fight, Royce considered how to complete his work.
There would not be time to disarm each of the men in turn as they
came round the bend.  An idea occurred to him.  He ordered the whole
party of released prisoners to dispose themselves amid the tall
rushes along the river bank, and the Hausas to carry down the fallen
Tubus.  He himself assisted Challis to reach a place of concealment.
Thus, when the rearguard rounded the bend, there was no one in sight
along the open path.

The Tubus halted in amazement when their eyes fell on the broken
bridge.  They looked this way and that in search of the prisoners,
and Royce, watching them through the rushes, feared that they might
turn tail and retreat.  But after a few minutes they hastened
forward, scanning the farther bank to see if by some unknown means
the prisoners had been able to cross the river.

When they had almost reached the bridge-head, Royce stepped quickly
from his hiding-place with the armed Hausas, and ordered John to call
to the Tubus.  At the shout they swung round, and saw facing them a
white man and seven Hausas covering them with rifles.

John called to them to surrender and throw down their arms.  For a
moment they hesitated; then, recognising that between the rifles and
the river there was no escape, they cast their own weapons on the
ground and made signs of submission.

At Royce's instruction John ordered them to move away along the bank
of the river.  Then six of the Hausas advanced, took their rifles,
and returned.  And then the whole band of liberated prisoners sprang
up from among the rushes, and the place rang with their shouts of
delight.



CHAPTER X

IN HOT PURSUIT

"Now for the next move," said Royce to Challis.  "Feel better, old
man?"

"Much!  It's so good to see you again.  But I'm fairly crocked."

"Never mind that.  You'll be all right after a rest.  We mustn't lose
any time, though.  Can you tell me how far back the horsemen left
you?"

"Two or three miles, I think.  They went off to the left; of course I
didn't know why, though I see now."

"Well, there are about thirty of them, aren't there?  They have
probably crossed the river by this time, higher up, and are waiting
somewhere ahead.  We can't tell how long they will wait before they
become uneasy, but no doubt when they do they will ride to the
bridge.  Finding it broken down, they will probably think that the
whole party is making for the ford, and will very likely ride back
and round to meet them.  That ought to give us several hours."

"Little enough if they discover what has really happened."

"Yes; they've a great advantage of us in their horses.  There's only
one thing to be done.  With only fourteen rifles we can't fight them.
We must get back as quickly as we can.  What luck to recover all our
baggage!"

"There's food, too; not very much, certainly, which shows that the
Tubus aren't far from their own grounds."

"True, and their tribe may number hundreds for all we know.  It's a
ticklish position for us.  But we concealed near your camp the food
we brought with us.  We must all get back as quickly as possible and
secure that.  I only hope that we shan't be pursued, for we should
stand no chance at all against mounted men."

Royce wasted no time.  First of all he had the six men of the
rearguard tied up like their comrades and laid at the edge of the
rushes, where they would be discovered by their friends when they
returned to the bridge.

Then he selected four of the Hausas to carry Challis on a litter made
of their rifles.  Soon the whole party was marching back along the
track, John leading with six of the men armed with rifles, Royce
bringing up the rear with the remainder.

There was a remarkable change in the demeanour of the negroes.
Whereas before they had marched slowly, listlessly, they now stepped
out with buoyant vigour.  Freedom gave them new strength.  The loads
had been distributed among them, so that each man's burden was light;
and they pressed on untiringly, only eager to get back to their homes.

Again and again Royce looked back anxiously along the track.  There
was no sign of pursuit.  Without halting a moment the party marched
on until nightfall, and then encamped, worn out, but happy, for they
were pretty sure that no attack would be made on them during the dark
hours.  Nevertheless, Royce arranged for the guarding of the camp
through the night by the Hausas in turn.

He exchanged notes with Challis about all that had happened since
they parted.

"I've one hope," he said.  "It is that the Tubus, knowing they have
white men to deal with, will not molest us further.  They have
experience of what white men can do, because their lands are on
French territory."

"But the French have little control over them, judging by their
raids," replied Challis.  "I fear we can't reckon on being left
alone.  They will be enraged at the loss of a fine haul of slaves,
and the men we left tied up will tell them that there are only two of
us.  Besides, that man you call Goruba has a score against you.  It
is clear to me now that at first he mistook me for you."

"The whole thing is sickening," said Royce.  "It looks as though our
prospecting for tin is at an end.  We can't proceed with hostile
savages hovering about us.  But we've much to be thankful for."

As soon as it was light they broke up camp and resumed the march.
The long rest had greatly benefited Challis, whom, however, Royce
would not allow to walk.

The condition of some of his men made Royce anxious; but the negro
has great endurance, and the hope of reaching safety helped the men
to keep up.

There was still no sign of pursuit, and Royce grew more and more
cheerful as time went on.  In the afternoon the party arrived at
Challis's dismantled camp.  In order to prevent a raid upon the
provisions, Royce had ordered John and Gambaru not to mention where
they were hidden.  On reaching the spot, he led the main body of the
prisoners some little distance beyond, and commanded them to rest on
the ground until food was brought to them.

The calabashes were found just as John had left them.  Food was
served out to the whole party--sparingly, for it was impossible to
tell when another supply could be obtained.

During the meal, Royce discussed the position with Challis.  They
decided to give the prisoners the opportunity of returning to their
homes.  When it was put to the poor negroes, most of them, including
all the women, set off at once in different directions.  But a group
of the men hung back.

"Dey want to stay with Massa," John explained.

"But I don't want them.  We shall have to go back to the coast."

"Dat make um berry jolly, sah," said John.  "Houses burnt; no place
can go; dey like berry much go with Massa."

"What do you say to that, Tom?" Royce asked of Challis.

"They had much better stay in their own country.  But I suppose we
can hardly turn the poor fellows away.  Let them come; I daresay
they'll be tired of it long before we reach Akassa."

"We'll start in about an hour, then--unless----"

"Unless what?"

"Well, the idea of chucking things up when we've come so many
hundreds of miles makes me sick.  I was wondering whether after all
we couldn't make our way into French territory, and persuade the
authorities to back us up."

Before Challis could reply, there came a shout from Gambaru, who had
been stationed to keep watch.

"What does he say, John?" asked Royce.

"Him see horses, sah."

Royce sprang up, and ran to a stretch of rising ground from which the
country northward was visible for some miles.  One glance was enough.
The negro horsemen were in pursuit.

Stooping so as to be as little visible as possible, Royce doubled
back.  It was clear that to march southward with a mounted enemy on
their heels would be to court destruction.  To take refuge in the
bush or the woodland would merely postpone the disaster for a short
time.  What could be done?

An idea flashed into his mind.  Was there time to reach the fort in
which John and he had spent that unforgettable night?  All depended
on the number of the horsemen he had just seen.  If they were the men
who had forded the river, unreinforced, there was a bare chance.

By the time he regained the camp Royce had made up his mind.

"John, tell these men to carry the food and baggage into the forest
yonder," he said.  "You must lead them.  We will make for the fort.
Give Mr. Challis your rifle."

It was some minutes before the released prisoners, laden with their
bundles, had got under way.  Meanwhile, Royce drew up the Hausas in
line, and, facing towards the oncoming horsemen, moved backward
slowly towards the forest.

The carriers had not yet gained the shelter of the trees when the
Tubus, some thirty in number, broke from cover and charged down upon
the little party.  Royce was at one end of the line, Challis at the
other.

"Don't fire until I give the word," said Royce.

The horsemen rode on with shrill yells, firing as they came.  But
their aim was wild, and no one was hit.  Slowly withdrawing, Royce
kept his eye fixed on them, whispering:

"Steady!  Steady!  Wait for the word."

The Hausas were panting with excitement, but not a man of them lifted
his rifle.  At last, when the horsemen were little more than two
hundred yards away, Royce dropped on his knee.

"Now, boys!" he said.

Following his example, the Hausas fired.  It was a somewhat ragged
volley, but at the short range almost every shot told.  Many saddles
were emptied; some of the enemy drew rein; others galloped on, to be
met by a second volley, which completely broke the charge.  The
survivors wheeled their horses and dashed madly back towards the
bushes from behind which they had emerged.

"Now, boys, with me!" cried Royce.

He led them at the double across the open space into the belt of
woodland which John with his party had already entered.  His stand
had given them a respite, but there could be little doubt that this
troop of the enemy was merely an advance guard, for Goruba was not
among them.  Everything now depended on whether the fort could be
reached before Goruba came up with a much larger force.

"Step out as quickly as possible, boys," said Royce.  "Their horses
won't be much good to them if we get into the fort.  You have done
well."



CHAPTER XI

A STRATEGIC RETREAT

John, the headman, was very intelligent.  His sense of locality and
direction appeared to be good.  But Royce felt a little anxious about
his ability to act as guide in their march towards the fort.  The man
had only visited it once.  Hurrying to the head of the column, he
said:

"You are quite sure you can find the way?"

"Nebber lose it, sah!" replied John, with a gurgling laugh at his own
simple joke.  "Savvy way all same quite correct."

"Very well.  Remember that we all depend on you.  You will save time
by getting some of these new men to take turns with our boys in
carrying the stuff.  I leave you to arrange that."

The party now consisted of more than forty men.  John went ahead with
two or three of his original gang and the released prisoners, who
numbered over a score.  Some distance in the rear came Royce and
Challis with the rest of their boys, armed.

"I'm a little doubtful whether we are doing the right thing," Royce
remarked to his companion.

"Why?" asked Challis.

"Because I'm out of my element.  I don't know in the least how these
Tubus are likely to act.  If they were a civilised enemy, I should be
sure that the check we have just inflicted would not choke off the
pursuit.  In that case we should be doing the right thing--the only
thing, in fact, to avoid extermination."

"You mean that if we have choked them off, we ought to be hurrying
away to the south?"

"That's it.  My experience in field days with the Scouts and the
O.T.C. doesn't help much now."

"I'm not so sure of that," said Challis.  "I think you have done
jolly well so far."

"Well, looking at matters from the worst point of view, and assuming
that the Tubus will still come after us, I don't see that we could do
better than we are doing.  The difficulty is this: if we get into the
fort, we escape immediate destruction, but we are in no position to
stand a siege.  Our ammunition will hold out a good while, but our
food won't."

"Still, we shall gain a little time.  Perhaps they won't pursue us
farther.  If they do, they may sheer off when they find us behind
defences.  Let us hope for the best."

They were marching through thin forest on more or less undulating
ground.  In some places, while the trees and bush offered few
obstacles to men marching on foot, they would considerably impede
horsemen.  In others, the country was so open that mounted men would
gain on them.

Whenever they passed over stretches of open ground, they would halt
for a few minutes, and scan the country behind for signs of the
enemy.  It was on such clear spaces that most was to be feared.

In the forest land the party had a certain advantage over mounted
pursuers.  They could avail themselves of cover far more effectually
than was possible for horsemen.  They could move nearly as fast, and
more safely and secretly.  A tree or a bush that would conceal a man
on foot might give little cover to a horse and its rider.

They had marched for two or three hours, and had just halted on the
brink of a stream for rest and refreshment, when Royce, mounting to
the crest of a low hillock, caught sight of three or four horsemen
amid the scrub far in their rear, on the other side of the stream.

He watched them anxiously, hoping that they were not the forerunners
of a more numerous body.  In a few minutes his worst anticipations
were confirmed.  At a little distance behind the small group of
horsemen stretched a long column, vastly more numerous than the band
whom he had checked and put to flight.  There could be no doubt that
a large force of Tubus was in hot pursuit.

With a quick eye Royce examined the ground, calculating the chances
of making a stand.  The hillock was covered with brushwood that gave
excellent cover; the enemy, on the other hand, before they could
reach the stream, must pass over a wide space of almost open land.

They had evidently descried the fugitives.  Royce felt very uneasy as
he caught fleeting glimpses of horsemen moving among the tall grass
for some distance up and down stream.  It was clear that they were
taking advantage of their superior numbers to try to outflank him.
There was no time to be lost if a successful resistance were to be
made.

He shouted to Challis to bring all the men from the low ground up the
hillock.

"We must try to make a stand here," he said.  "If we go on we are
bound to be ridden down."

He placed the unarmed men well to the rear, and posted the others in
a crescent line behind the scrub on the crest of the hillock, facing
the enemy.

"Lie flat on your faces," he said, "and fire when I give the word."

The Tubus had been advancing in column at a trot, but within a few
hundred yards of the hillock they opened out into line, and came on
at a gallop with fierce cries.  In the centre was a gigantic negro
whom Royce recognised as Goruba.

The Hausas kept absolute silence, awaiting their leader's command.
It came when the Tubus were no more than two hundred yards distant.
The rifles flashed; several of the horsemen fell; some halted behind
the largest bushes near to them; others turned and galloped to the
shelter of a clump of trees.

Royce rose on his knees, and peering over the brushwood, anxiously
scanned the farther bank up and down stream.  In both directions the
flanking movement was continuing, and what was more serious, in
response to a mighty shout from Goruba, whose tall form could be seen
threading its way between the bushes in the distance, the Tubus
dismounted, and tethering their horses, began to work their way
forward on foot.

Royce tried to pick off the leader, who was clearly something of a
strategist.  But the negro took such skilful advantage of the bushes
that Royce was never able to get a clear shot at him.

His intention was obvious.  It was to hold the party in front, while
his men crept round on each flank, and enveloped them.

"We run the risk of being surrounded," Royce called to Challis at the
other end of the line; "there's nothing for it but to retreat."

To retreat, even with a disciplined force, is, as Royce knew, one of
the most hazardous operations of warfare.  The risks were tenfold
with his Hausas, none of whom had served in the West African Rifles,
who have become such excellent soldiers under the training of their
British officers.  But they were a compact little band, all devoted
to him, and he decided to take the risk.

First sending word to the unarmed men to make all speed to the rear
with their loads, he divided his little force into two parties.

"You see that ridge yonder?" he said to Challis, pointing to a
bush-covered position some distance away.  "Fall back to that slowly
with your lot.  I'll join you as soon as I can."

Challis set off.  Meanwhile Royce retained his position, and kept up
a steady fire on the enemy as they advanced, creeping on yard by yard
under cover of the bushes.

"Whenever you see a man, shoot!" said Royce to the Hausas.  "Don't
shoot without marking your man."

The Tubus made no use of their firearms.  Royce and his men were
hidden from them by the brushwood, and they did not waste their shots
on an enemy whom they could not see.  No doubt, Royce reflected, this
was a mode of warfare to which they were unaccustomed.  They were
used to carry all before them in a dashing charge, and he wondered at
their persistence under the new conditions.

Presently a shrill whistle from the rear announced that Challis had
taken up his position on the ridge.  The space between was a long
undulation, only a few yards of which, at the rearward end, were in
view of the enemy.

"Now, boys, run!" said Royce.

Heading his men, he sprinted down the incline, rushed up the farther
acclivity, and dashed past Challis and his party, calling to Challis
to hold the Tubus until he had gained a new position still farther to
the rear.

He noticed a clump of trees a little to the right, nearer the bank of
the river, and made straight for that.  As he ran towards it, he came
within view of the horsemen working round on the left flank.  They
immediately wheeled round, and galloped hard in pursuit.

But their course brought them below the ridge on which, all unknown
to them, Challis and his band lay concealed.  As they rode past,
within range of about a hundred yards, a sudden volley on their right
flank sent some of them reeling to the ground.  The rest, taken all
aback, swerved to the left, and dashed frantically away towards their
main body, who had now become aware that the hillock was deserted,
and were surging up it.

"Well done, Tom!"

The ringing words came faintly from the rear.  Challis brushed his
sleeve across his sweating brow, and ordered his men to run with him.

It was something to have gained half-an-hour without the loss of a
man.



CHAPTER XII

A STAMPEDE

Taking advantage of the flight of the flanking party, Royce pushed on
as soon as he was rejoined by Challis, in order to gain a denser
portion of the forest, where the pursuers would be much more impeded
than his own men.

He had two other reasons.  The carriers had gone on by themselves,
without guidance, and it was probable that they would take a wrong
direction.  Further, there was a possibility that in the absence of
the white men they would be seized with panic, and stampede, leaving
their loads.  The Hausas could not at once carry and fight, and all
the fighting strength would be needed if the enemy still came on.

It seemed that the double check which the Tubus had suffered had
daunted them, at any rate for the time being; for Royce, looking
back, saw no sign of their having crossed the ridge.

About ten minutes later he came up with the carriers, who, on
reaching the edge of the thicker woodland, had prudently halted from
fear of losing the way.  John again went ahead with them as guide,
Challis following at a short interval with his section, and Royce
with the remainder acting as rearguard.

The march through the forest entailed a disadvantage which almost
outweighed its advantages from the point of view of security.  It was
impossible to see what the enemy were doing.  They might have given
up the chase; they might be pressing on in the rear; they might still
be working round on the flanks, avoiding the woodland area, and
outspeeding the fugitives on more open ground.

For this reason Royce forced the pace as much as possible.  From his
rather hazy recollection the fort was still five or six miles away, a
distance which he could scarcely hope to cover under three hours.

By degrees the forest thinned, and after about two hours' marching it
opened upon the lake which Royce had skirted on his return from the
village.  By this time everybody was tired and hungry.

"We must take a spell of rest," he said to Challis.  "I think it's
scarcely likely the Tubus have come through the forest after us."

"I'm glad enough," replied Challis.  "A little more of this, and I
shall crock up again."

"Poor old chap!  We must avoid that.  It's certainly hard on you
after what you've gone through.  Down loads, John.  Serve out a meal.
The boys can drink from the lake; but let them beware of crocodiles."

"A thing has occurred to me," said Challis, as he sat with Royce
waiting until John had roasted some nuts for them.  "Will Goruba
suspect that we are making for the fort, and get there first?"

"I don't think so.  He is more likely to suppose that we are
returning to the village where we got our supplies.  This is the
direct route towards it; the fort lies more to the left."

"That relieves my mind.  But it's a pity we can't tell what the enemy
are doing."

"I'll go reconnoitring presently.  The fort can't be more than a mile
or two away, and as it stands on an eminence it ought to be visible
from the cliff over there."

He pointed to the high ground which bordered one side of the lake.

"I'm inclined to think they have given it up," he continued.
"Negroes aren't very persevering as a rule, and they've had enough to
damp their spirits.  It would be absurd to look for the same
persistence in them that you would expect in a civilised and
disciplined enemy....  Well, John," he added, as the Hausa came up
with some roasted nuts spread on broad leaves, "is this the best you
can do for us?"

"Not good dinner all same, sah," said John, with a rueful look.  "Get
rabbit some day."

"Yes, there's plenty of game about the fort, isn't there?  Which is
lucky for us, considering that we have so many more mouths to feed."

Poor as the fare was, they ate it with a good appetite.  Then Royce
rose.

"I'll come with you," said Challis.  "I'm curious to take a look at
this fort of yours."

"Come along, then.  It's only about two hundred yards to the top of
the cliff.  John will give us warning if anything happens."

Taking their rifles they set off, walking round the margin of the
lake.  On their left stretched an open grassy space, beyond which was
the forest from which they had lately emerged.

The ground rose gradually.  They were halfway up the ascent to the
cliff when Royce stopped suddenly.

"What on earth's that?" he said.

They halted, puzzled to account for a strange noise which seemed to
proceed from the forest on their left.  At first a dull rumble, it
grew in a few seconds to a succession of heavy thuds, becoming louder
moment by moment, and mingled with sharp cracks like pistol shots.

"It can't be the Tubus charging through the trees," said Challis.

A shout from behind caused them to turn their heads.  The men had
leapt to their feet, and were standing in a huddled group, with every
sign of fear.  One, a young negro from among the released prisoners,
was sprinting towards them at full speed.

"We had better go back," said Royce, "or they'll get into a panic.
The row is terrific.  A thousand cavalry couldn't make such an
uproar....  Great Scott!"

[Illustration: AT THE EDGE OF THE CLIFF]

Through the leafy screen of the forest a hundred yards away there had
emerged a large elephant, plunging forward at a lumbering gallop with
trunk uplifted.  In another fraction of a second the whole of the
light timber and brushwood at the edge of the forest appeared to
dissolve, and a wild mob of scores of elephants burst like an
enormous breaker upon the open space.

Petrified for a moment with amazement, the two Englishmen became
suddenly alive to their peril.  Whether they went on in the direction
intended, or returned to their men, they would equally cut across the
front of this stampeding herd and must be overwhelmed.

"Straight for the edge of the cliff!" cried Royce.

They dropped their rifles and dashed to the right.  It was forty or
fifty yards to the edge of the cliff; the elephants were already only
about half that distance behind them, gaining moment by moment.  The
ground shook under the tremendous charge of the maddened beasts.  To
the fleeing men it seemed that the breath from the gaping mouths
scorched them.

A small spur of the cliff jutted to the left.  The runners swung
round on to this and without a moments' pause took a header into the
lake twenty feet below.

When they came up to the surface they had to fight for breath in a
cauldron of broken water.  They were both good swimmers, or they
would never have survived the sort of Niagara swirl in which they
were now hurled about and buffeted.

Only their instinctive leap to the left before they made the dive had
saved them from destruction.  It had prevented the elephants from
falling on top of them, for some of the great beasts, charging
straight ahead in a blind fury, had plunged headlong over the brink
into the lake.

The turmoil of the water soon subsided, and the swimmers, on
regaining the use of their faculties, found themselves in the company
of the scattered herd, all swimming in search of a landing-place.

In a few moments Royce caught at a branch of an overhanging tree, and
both he and Challis drew themselves up among the foliage, and watched
the ungainly animals swim by.

"Hope it's cooled their rage," said Royce in gasps.  "We've had a
narrow squeak."

"Yes, indeed!  Under several tons of elephant flesh we should have
been pretty well flattened out.  What made them stampede, I wonder?"

"Our scent, perhaps.  I hope they weren't started by the Tubus."

"We had better get back.  It will be rather a feat to climb the
cliff, by the look of it."

They crept along the tree to the place where it sprang from the
cliff, then clambered up the steep face with the aid of straggling
plants and knobby projections.

When their heads appeared over the edge, there were loud shouts of
joy, and John came rushing up at the head of the whole party of
negroes.

"Fink you gone dead, sah," he said, his broad face beaming.  "All
alive and safe and sound, and always merry and bright.  Yoi-aloo!
Hurray!"

"Yes, we're all right," said Royce.  "Is that my rifle?"

"All gone smash, sah," returned John, lifting the rifle which he had
picked up from the ground.  "Massa Chally's all right, sah."

The lock and barrel of Royce's rifle had been smashed beyond repair
by the ponderous hoofs.  Challis's was unbroken.

"Tibu, sah--where he go?" asked John, as they marched down to their
camping place.

"Who's Tibu?"

John explained that when the startling sounds came from the forest,
Tibu, one of the released negroes, had recognised them at once as
made by stampeding elephants, and had run up the cliff to warn the
Englishmen.

"Of course; I saw him just before we ran," said Challis.  "Let us
turn back and look for him."

But though they spent some time in searching the cliff above and
below, they found no trace of Tibu.  He was never seen again.  It
could only be surmised that, like the Englishmen, he had fled towards
the edge of the cliff, but, less lucky than they, had fallen into the
water directly beneath the elephants, and been crushed to death.

Only a few of the elephants had plunged into the lake.  The majority
had skirted it and disappeared into the woodland beyond.



CHAPTER XIII

A NARROW SHAVE

"John, send a man to fetch Kulana," said Royce.  "It is time we were
off."

Before the Hausa dispatched by John had gone out of sight, he met
Kulana hurrying back from the northward post to which he had been
sent to watch the progress of the enemy.

Kulana reported that a small party of Tubus had caught sight of him
as they emerged from a clump of trees some distance away.  They had
pursued him and almost run him down when the rush of stampeding
elephants caused them to wheel their horses and flee for their lives.
He himself only escaped being trampled to death by taking shelter
behind a large tree, where he had remained until the storm swept by.

Learning from John that the course taken by the elephants was almost
the direction of the fort, Royce had an idea.

"Why not follow in the track of the elephants?" he said to Challis.
"They will clear the Tubus off our line of march, at least for a
time, and if we march rapidly we may get through before they have
rallied."

"We can try, but I doubt it," replied Challis.  "The elephants are
going at such a thundering speed that they are miles away by this
time, and the Tubus won't have any reason to be afraid of them.
Still, there's nothing else to be done, and we had better start at
once."

In a few minutes the baggage was loaded on to the released prisoners,
and the party set off, John leading the way with Royce and half the
Hausas, the carriers following, and Challis with the rest of the
armed men bringing up the rear.

There was no difficulty in following the track of the elephants.  It
was as though a tornado had swept over the country.  A path several
yards wide had been cut through the scrub and the thin forest.  Tall
grass and shrubs had been crushed flat, saplings broken off like
matchwood.  Only large trees had survived the rush, and the ground
was strewn with the lower branches of these.

Royce went a good distance ahead of the carriers.  They marched as
quickly as possible, but, laden as they were, their pace did not
exceed the rate of two and a half miles an hour.  If the fort, as
Royce believed, were still about five miles away, he could not but
confess to himself that Challis's doubt was justified.  He repressed
his anxiety and impatience, keeping as careful a lookout as the
nature of the country permitted.

When they had followed the track for a little more than a mile, John
caught sight of an object in the distance that caused him to halt.
At first he was unable to determine what the object was, but when
Royce persuaded him to advance a few paces he declared excitedly that
it was a fallen horse.

Royce ordered his men to extend and scout carefully forward.  Coming
presently to the horse he saw that it was dead, and beyond it,
hitherto hidden from sight, lay a dead negro, his body terribly
crushed.

What had happened was clear.  The hapless rider had been caught by
the elephants, and overthrown before he could extricate himself from
the undergrowth.  With a shudder Royce passed on.

Some little distance farther on John halted again.

"What is it now?" asked Royce, whom the slow progress was making more
and more uneasy.

"No go fort way, sah," replied the man.  "Fort dat way, elephants go
dis."

He pointed first straight ahead through the forest, then to the
right, the direction in which the elephants had rushed.  It was clear
from the marks of devastation that the beasts had not yet checked
their furious pace.  Royce wondered what had caused a panic which was
so persistent.

"We had better go after the elephants," he said after a few moments'
consideration.  "It is out of our way, you say, but it will be at any
rate clear of Tubus."

Accordingly they struck off to the right.  The forest here was
somewhat denser, and though the small trees and undergrowth had been
pretty well levelled by the elephants' ponderous bodies, the tangle
made marching very difficult.  Royce halted several times in order
that he might not altogether lose touch with the carriers behind.

After another half-hour's tramp the course of the elephants took
another turn to the right.

"We simply daren't follow it any longer," said Royce, mopping his wet
brow.  "It will take us much too far out of our way.  In fact, I
daresay you have lost your way already."

John did not repeat his little joke.  His downcast expression
indicated plainly enough that he was now at fault.  He glanced up at
the sun through the over-arching trees, and at last hesitatingly
suggested a direction in which they might proceed.

"Unless you have been quite wrong all along, we can't be very far
from the fort now," said Royce.  "But as we couldn't see it for the
trees we might go right past it without knowing.  Perhaps the country
opens out, however, so let us try it."

Leaving the track they plunged through the forest, dodging the thorns
and forcing their way through the entanglements of undergrowth and
creepers.  It was very hot work, and Royce felt as tired as if he had
marched twenty miles on end.

After a quarter of an hours' toilsome progress they came suddenly to
the edge of the forest; and there, almost straight ahead, less than a
mile away, they saw the fort, a brown, sunlit patch on the hillock.

"Savvy all same, sah," cried John in delight.

"Yes, you are either very clever or very lucky," said Royce.  "I hope
our troubles are now over for a time.  We must wait here, just within
the forest line, until the others come up."

He leant against a tree, looking out over the space of rolling
country between him and his goal.  It was open save for scrub; there
was no sign of man or beast.

But he had waited only a few minutes when two negro horsemen came out
from behind a distant clump of trees, crossed the open space, and
disappeared to the westward.

Royce's anxiety returned with doubled force.  It was almost certain
that these Tubus had been lurking on the watch in the neighbourhood
of the fort.  They might indeed have been sent ahead by Goruba to
ascertain whether the fort was yet occupied.  In all probability a
larger party of their people was not far away.

It seemed hours before the carriers came up.  Challis was close
behind them with his party.

"Thank goodness!" exclaimed Royce.  "There's the fort, as you see.
But we must let the men rest awhile, and then make a dash for it."

"Why not go straight on?"

"I saw two Tubus cross yonder.  If we're to get there safely we must
put on our best speed; we can't go at this terrible dawdle--less than
two miles an hour lately."

"I am sure we had better go on.  If the men drop their loads they
will become noisy, and the Tubus may hear them.  Let's take the bull
by the horns, old man."

"Very well, then.  We must keep close together; it would be fatal to
get scattered.  But we'll go in the same order.  John, tell the
carriers they must move quickly and silently.  Now, are you ready?"

He led the way from the forest into the scrub, the rest of the party
forming a compact column behind him.  Keeping an eye fixed on the
clump behind which the Tubus had disappeared, he made straight for
the fort.

As yard after yard of the ground was covered, he became more and more
hopeful of gaining the shelter of the walls unmolested.  But when the
party was within less than half a mile of their goal there were
shouts in the distance.  Immediately afterwards, from the forest on
the left, a cloud of horsemen dashed out and galloped straight
towards them.  At the same time a smaller party, farther ahead, rode
diagonally across the open ground to cut them off.

It was a critical moment.  There was just time, Royce thought, to
reach the small belt of woodland below the hillock.  Calling on the
carriers to hurry, he placed the Hausas to guard their flank.

"Tell the men to go straight up to the fort," he said to John, adding
to Challis: "We must try to keep the enemy off until the men are
safe."

Spurred on by fear, the carriers quickened their pace.  The Tubus,
uttering fierce yells, dashed on, firing their guns aimlessly.  Tense
with anxiety, Royce measured with his eye the distances between his
party, the woodland, and the horsemen, and it was with a gasp of
relief that he gained the trees while the Tubus were still a hundred
yards away.

The two bands of horsemen closed in, and rode towards the woodland.
At the edge of the belt Royce had drawn up his little party of
riflemen.  They fired two volleys in quick succession at the charging
crowd.  Remembering what they had suffered in the previous attacks,
the Tubus, seeing several of their numbers fall, checked their horses
and withdrew a short distance.

"Goruba isn't with them," said Royce.

But at that moment the tall negro came galloping from the rear, and,
brandishing a huge scimitar, began to harangue his hesitating men.

"Come!" said Royce quietly.

Without waiting to see the inevitable result of Goruba's furious
words, he withdrew his men quickly through the wood, splashed through
the little stream that bathed the foot of the hillock, and climbed up
to the fort.  The carriers had already disappeared within the walls.

"Only by the skin of our teeth!" panted Challis, as he stumbled into
the entrance.

"And this is only the beginning of things!" returned Royce.  "What is
to follow?"



CHAPTER XIV

AT BAY

Tired out by their long march on insufficient food, the men were in
no condition to withstand a determined attack; and Royce felt that
all was lost if Goruba pushed on at once at the head of his men.

But apparently Goruba had no such intention.  He led his men, indeed,
almost to the base of the hillock; but then, discovering that the
retiring party had entered the fort, he swung round to the left, rode
along the bank of the stream, and disappeared among the trees a
quarter of a mile away.

"That gives us a breathing space," said Royce.  "It won't last long.
If Goruba was savage at finding me alone here, he will be still more
enraged now.  Besides, he can't afford to own himself beaten.  If the
natives in the district were to learn that the dreaded Tubus are not
invincible, his prestige would be gone.  You may be sure that he is
determined to destroy us."

"This place is half in ruins," said Challis, who had thrown himself
down, and looked pale and worn.  "If he came on in earnest, we should
be wiped out.  He must have three or four hundred men with him."

"It's clear that he has learnt respect for our rifles.  And he
needn't hurry.  All he has to do is to invest us, and in a short time
he can starve us out.  Our food won't last more than about ten or
twelve days, however economical we are.  I see John is getting a meal
ready.  When the men have had a feed and a rest, we had better set
some of them to strengthen our defences."

"It's very lucky that we have got our camp equipment."

"Yes; I only wish we had a few more spades.  We must build up an
earthwork where the walls are broken down, and with only three spades
it will take a long time."

"And the Tubus can snipe the men as they work."

"I don't think they will do much damage.  Their weapons appear to be
poor, and they are certainly not good shots....  I'm sorry I led you
into this mess, Tom."

"Tosh!  I'm glad.  I've had a very easy, comfortable life up to the
present, and I'm inclined to think too much comfort is bad for one.
Hardship and danger test a man, and it's up to us to show that we've
something of the old British spirit left."

Here John came up with some tinned meat on an enamelled plate and a
few biscuits.

"Boys want water, sah," he said.  "Very dry."

"Perhaps there is a well in the place," Challis suggested.

"I'll go and see," said Royce.  "Stay where you are--you need rest
more than I do."

In a courtyard in the centre of the fort he discovered a well, but it
was filled up with rubbish.

"There's nothing for it but to go down to the stream," he said,
returning to Challis.

"A risky job, in full view of the Tubus," his friend answered.

"We must chance that.  Without water we can't hold out a day.  If
only two or three creep down on the north side they may escape
notice.  All the Tubus appear to be on the south."

"We two had better do it, with John."

"Not a bit of it!  John shall go, and Gambaru; but only one of us.
It won't do for both to risk being potted."

"Well, I'll go," said Challis.  "You are the boss; besides, you're a
better shot than I."

"But, hang it, man! you've already been wounded, and I'm without a
scratch.  Your job is to get perfectly fit again in the shortest
possible time.  John, go and collect all the things that will hold
water.  There's our collapsible pail; you can take a meat tin or two.
Hunt about the place on the chance of finding something else."

"Look here, Hugh," said Challis, rising, "I insist on taking a hand."

"Rot, I tell you!  If I'm boss, you'll have to obey orders."

"I won't!"

"Mutiny, by Jove!  This won't do, Tom.  To settle matters without
squabbling, we'll toss for it.  Heads, I go; tails, you."

He spun a coin.

"Tails!" cried Challis.

"Done you!  It's heads," said Royce lifting his hand.

"I might have known it--you always win the toss," Challis grumbled.

"Yes, I was born lucky," said Royce equably.  "But you shan't be
unemployed.  Keep an eye lifting; if you see any attempt to interfere
with us, you know what you must do."

John meanwhile had collected all the vessels of any size that would
hold water.  In addition to the collapsible pail, he had two empty
meat tins which he had connected by a cord.  In one of the rooms of
the fort he had found a few earthenware pots, some broken and
useless, one perfect, two or three with the handles chipped off.

"A rather miscellaneous lot," said Royce, viewing the collection.
"But they'll do.  Just sling a cord round the necks of those that
have lost their handles, John.  We'll take two apiece.  They'll hold
enough for the present."

Their preparations were soon completed.  Royce carried the pail and
the two meat tins; each of the Hausas had two earthen vessels hanging
by a cord over his shoulders.

Royce led the way through the building to the dilapidated wall on the
north side.

"Take a good look round," he said to John.  "Do you see any of the
Tubus?"

John scanned the prospect from left to right.  Far to the left was a
patch of woodland; then a stretch of open country dotted with bushes,
extending to another clump of trees almost in their front.  To the
right of this the ground was again open, up to the forest from which
they had recently emerged.

"No Tubus, sah," said John.  "Dey all plenty afraid."

"I hope they are.  Now then, down to the stream with me.  It will
only take ten minutes there and back."

They climbed over the broken wall, and ran down the hill, making use
of the sparse bushes for cover.  Meanwhile Challis, unknown to Royce,
had brought all the rest of the Hausas except one to the north side,
and posted them there with their rifles.  The last man he had left at
the south side to keep a watch on the clump of trees behind which the
Tubus had withdrawn.

Royce had gone three parts of the way down the hill when there was a
shout in the distance, followed by a shot.  He glanced ahead quickly,
but none of the enemy was to be seen.  A little patch of smoke hung
over the trees about a quarter of a mile beyond the stream.

"They mean to surround us, then," he thought.

He quickened his pace, dodging from bush to bush, and calling to the
Hausas to hurry, taking all possible cover.  Since the enemy had not
yet come out into the open, there might be time to fill the vessels
and return before there was any serious danger.

The three men dashed down to the stream, dipped their vessels, and in
less than half a minute turned back to ascend the hill.  Another shot
rang out, and from the wall above a volley flashed.

"Good man!" thought Royce.

Then he became aware that one of the meat tins was leaking badly.  By
the time he reached the fort all the water it contained would have
run away.

"Botheration!" he said to himself, quite forgetting his danger in the
annoyance caused by this discovery.

But a moment later he knew that the danger was even greater than he
had supposed.  From his left came a din of lusty shouting.  He heard
a single rifle-shot, farther away than the volley which had just been
fired.  The meaning of it flashed upon him.  The main body of the
Tubus, warned by the shout and the shots, had left the position to
which they had retired, and were dashing across the open to attack
the fort on the south side.

Behind him, too, the enemy was coming on.  Looking over his shoulder,
he saw that a small band of horsemen has issued from the wood and
were galloping towards him.

"Quick, boys!" he cried.

But the weight of the vessels and the awkwardness of carrying them
caused them to make slow progress up the hill.  Shots began to fly
around them.  There were answering volleys from the wall of the fort,
but Royce knew by the sound that some of the men who had fired before
had been recalled to defend the south side.

With the Hausas he staggered on, panting for breath.  It seemed a
miracle that he had not yet been hit.  If the Tubus had dismounted
and taken aim, not one of the three would have been left alive.  But,
true to their fighting method, they fired recklessly as they rode, no
doubt hoping to ride the fugitives down.

At his right hand Royce heard a crash.  A bullet had struck one of
the earthen vessels carried by John.  It was shattered.  The loss of
weight released the pot at the other end of the cord, and this, too,
fell to the ground and was shivered to fragments.

Next moment Gambaru, who was a few paces ahead of Royce, staggered
and fell.  A yell of triumph rang out behind, and the Tubus rode
through the stream and dashed up the hill in pursuit undaunted by the
shots of the diminished band at the wall.

Gambaru did not rise.  John, after his vessels had been broken, had
run on, and was now almost at the wall.  Royce did not hesitate.
Water was precious, but more precious was the life of a man.  Setting
down the pail and the tins, he ran to Gambaru, stooped over him, and,
discovering that he was wounded in one of his legs, helped him to
rise, and assisted him to limp up the hill.

During these few moments the enemy, though the pace of their horses
was checked by the incline, had rapidly diminished the gap between
them and their expected victims.  They had ceased to fire.  It was
only a question of seconds and the white man would be a prisoner in
their hands.

But Royce was warned by their exultant shouts Glancing for a moment
behind, he saw a dozen ferocious negroes within twenty yards of him.

"Crawl up!" he said to Gambaru.

Then, drawing his revolver, he turned to face the enemy.



CHAPTER XV

THE PROBLEM

When Royce turned to face the enemy, the foremost of them was only
twenty yards away, urging his horse up the slope.  Behind him two
score of his comrades were riding up, in no sort of order.

Royce was conscious of hearing shots from behind, and of seeing two
or three of the negroes reel from their saddles.  Then the firing
ceased, and at the same time all the Tubus leapt from their horses,
and, while some held the animals, the others rushed onward on foot.
They had perceived that on horseback they presented larger targets to
the riflemen behind the wall.  These latter could no longer fire,
because Royce was now directly in line between them and the enemy.

[Illustration: FACING THE FOE]

Steadily awaiting their onset, Royce refrained from firing until the
first man was no more than a dozen yards distant.  Then he fired
three shots in rapid succession, bringing down a man with each.  But
the rest did not quail.  With strident yells they pressed about him,
trusting in their numbers.

It was a desperate situation.  Royce had only three more shots in his
revolver, and he hesitated to expend his last available resources.
The Tubus had few firearms, but their spears were even more
formidable weapons, and against these he had no defence.  He fired
for the fourth time, and a fourth victim fell.  Then a spear pierced
his left shoulder, and he only escaped the point of another by
pistolling the negro as he was in the act of thrusting.

He was about to fire his last shot, feeling that in another moment
the end would come, when he heard, half unconsciously, a fierce shout
behind him, and became the centre of a wild scrimmage.  John, who had
almost reached the wall of the fort, had turned, and, seeing his
master's plight, had charged down the hill, knife in hand, into the
thick of the crowd.  He was a big man, and the impact of his weight
overthrew two of the enemy, who staggered against their comrades, and
relieved the pressure on Royce.

[Illustration: JOHN TO THE RESCUE]

Seizing that brief moment, Royce snatched a spear from the hand of
one of the stumbling negroes, and stood beside the faithful Hausa.
But the odds were overwhelmingly against them.  John's sudden onset
had created only a momentary diversion.  The whole crowd of Tubus
were flinging themselves upon the two men, when there was a second
and a louder shout.  A dozen stalwarts, headed by Challis hurled
themselves into the _mêlée_ and laid about them lustily with clubbed
rifles.

For a few instants the Tubus strove with fierce courage to stem this
tempestuous assault.  Then they gave way, turned about, and rushed
down the hill towards their horses, grouped at the base.  Challis and
his men took a heavy toll as they swept along.  The men holding the
horses were seized with fright, and soon there was a wild stampede
back to the shelter of the wood.

Challis was careful not to press the pursuit too far.  Before the
enemy had time to rally, he led his men up the hill and assisted
Royce to gain the wall.  John carried the pail of water, which was
the only one of their vessels they brought safely home.

"Thanks, old man," said Royce, when Challis returned to him.  "It was
a very near thing."

"It's better to be born lucky than rich, they say," said Challis;
"and certainly it was a great piece of luck that I was able to
intervene at the critical moment.  I had taken half the men to the
other side, to repel what seemed to be an attack there; but the Tubus
evidently assumed that their friends had a good thing on this side,
for they swerved to the right.  Look, they have just joined the
others in the wood."

"They have more bravery than generalship, that's clear," said Royce.

"Yes, there are enough of them to crush us to nothing, if they were
properly led."

"There are more of them than ever.  Other parties must have joined
them.  The odds are desperate.  We are only two score, all told, and
less than half have rifles."

"We have the walls, at any rate.  The most necessary thing is to
strengthen those as well as we can."

"I must attend to your arm first," said Challis.  "You can't any
longer say that you haven't a scratch."

"It's not much more," said Royce, looking at his sleeve as Challis
gently drew his coat off.

"More than you think.  It's a nasty gash.  Thank goodness we've got
our medical stores safe."

He dressed the wound, and bound it up with lint; gave the same
attention to Gambaru; then, placing a man on guard at each end of the
fort, they sat down to discuss their position more fully.

It seemed likely that by diligent work they could strengthen their
defences considerably.  But for the difficulty as to water,
provisions, and ammunition, they might hope to tire the enemy out, if
he remained persistent.  The difficulty was a very grave one.  The
water in the pail gave them only about a cupful each, and a second
attempt to fetch more from the stream might be disastrous.  Their
provisions, on half rations, might last a fortnight; and, with the
enemy so near, there was little chance of replenishing the larder.
The ammunition amounted to about three hundred rounds per
rifle--scarcely more than enough for one day's hard fighting.

"I wonder whether they will stick to it," said Challis.  "What can
their object be?"

"Hardly booty," replied Royce.  "They know very well what our
possessions are--certainly not worth heavy losses in acquiring them.
It must be a question of prestige; they're afraid all their victims
will rise against them if they fail here.  What do you say, John?
Why don't these Tubus let us alone?"

John scratched his close-clipped woolly poll and looked worried.
Then he suddenly brightened.

"Dey bad plenty wicked fellas, all same," he said, with the air of
one who has solved a knotty problem.

"Oh, well, that would account for anything," said Royce with a smile.
"At any rate, I can think of no other explanation than the one I have
suggested."

"You may be right," said Challis; "but I can't help thinking there is
some other reason which we know nothing about.  Time will show,
perhaps."

As after events proved, Challis's guess was nearer the truth than his
friend's.

During the remainder of the day there was no further attack, and
Royce took advantage of the enemy's inactivity to carry out his idea
of strengthening the defences.  He set all the men except those on
sentry duty to fill up the gaps in the broken walls, partly with
earth, partly with fragments of brick and stone from the interior of
the building.  Fortunately, the bastions at the four corners of the
fort were in good preservation, being constructed of stone.  These
would prove useful for enfilading fire, if the enemy should make a
really determined assault.

At nightfall it occurred to Challis that they might make another
attempt to get water.

"We could steal down in the dark without being seen," he said.
"Besides, I've read somewhere that the negro races don't care about
fighting by night.  They're as much afraid of the dark as any little
nervous kid--as I used to be myself ages ago."

"You don't mean it!" said Royce chaffingly.

"It's true, though.  I used to lie awake for hours, fancying all
sorts of hideous creatures were floating about the room, and cowering
under the bedclothes in sheer terror.  So much so that they gave me a
light at last--and then it was worse!"

"How was that?"

"Why, they gave me one of those wretched little paraffin lamps with a
very small round wick, and it used to smoke horribly and fill the
room, and the smell and stuffiness caused the most dreadful
nightmares--at least, that's what my mother said."

"More likely they were due to heavy suppers."

"We are safe here on that score, at any rate! ... Well, the negroes,
being afraid to move in the dark, are not likely to molest us; so I
vote we try for water to-night."

"John must collect some more pots, then, if he can.  We'll have a
shot at it."

Challis's confidence was borne out by the event.  In company with
John and Kulana, he stole down to the stream twice in succession, and
they brought back enough water to last three or four days.  Royce
kept watch at the wall, and the water-carriers moved so quietly that,
the night being pitch dark, he was unable either to see or to hear
them beyond twenty paces.

The night was quite undisturbed, and every member of the party except
the Englishmen had several hours of continuous sleep.  Royce and
Challis had agreed to take each two spells of sleep and two of
watching, alternately; but Royce was kept wakeful by the pain of his
wound, though he never let Challis know it.

When morning dawned, they looked out eagerly over the country, in
hope that the enemy had gone away.  For some little time it appeared
that this was the case.  Not a glimpse of the turbaned warriors was
caught.  But presently John's lynx eyes detected a movement among the
distant trees which he declared was too violent to be caused by small
animals, and too gentle to be caused by elephants; and a few minutes
later the whinny of a horse proved his sagacity.  The enemy had not
retired.

But it became apparent that, whatever their motive might be, they
were determined to press the siege.  Taught by experience to respect
the rifles of the garrison and the fearlessness of the white men,
they did not venture on to the more or less open sides of the hill.
But they could be seen working round the fort under cover of the
woodland and the Englishmen came to the conclusion that they had
formed three camps, each about six hundred yards from the walls and
about twice that distance from each other.

That a watch was continually kept on the fort from these camps was
clear from an occasional shot fired as a party of the enemy passed
over the intervening spaces.

"It pleases them, I suppose, and doesn't hurt us," said Royce.  "A
negro with a gun in his hand must let it off, usefully or not."

"But they mean a serious investment," said Challis gravely.  "They
intend to reduce us by hunger and thirst."



CHAPTER XVI

A NIGHT INTRUDER

"We must tackle the problem in bits," said Royce.  "Take the
ammunition question first; I'll give orders that the men are never to
fire except at the word of command--yours or mine."

"The water supply is really the most urgent matter," returned
Challis.  "The Tubus are sure to discover our night sallies by and
by, and then they'll no longer be safe.  What about clearing out the
well?"

"A good idea.  We'll set about that as soon as possible.  Then the
food; that's only next in importance.  It depends on the enemy's
patience.  If they are in no hurry, they can starve us out without
incurring any loss by direct assault."

"And I see no chance of foraging, still less of getting any help.
It's not a cheerful prospect."

"Well, we must put the best face on it.  Our Hausas are jolly good,
and they trust us completely.  We must keep up their pecker at all
costs."

With considerable labour they managed to clear the rubbish with which
the well was choked.  The soil beneath it was dry, but on digging
farther they struck the underground spring which had originally
supplied the well.

"That's first-rate!" cried Royce.  "There's one part of our problem
solved.  We'll make an embankment, to keep the water within bounds,
and have no further anxiety on that score."

Their next step was to partition the building among the various
sections of the company.  Royce and Challis took up their quarters in
the room in which the former had slept on the occasion of his first
visit.  The Hausas were given a larger chamber near the south wall,
and the rest of the party a half-roofed enclosure at the other end.
The rainy season not having commenced, the natives would not be
likely to suffer from their partial exposure.

The fort, small as it was, was too large to be defended by forty men
against serious attack.  To make the most of his garrison, Royce
arranged that each man should have about three yards of wall to
defend.  If the enemy should pluck up resolution to make a
simultaneous assault on all sides, they were numerous enough to throw
eight or ten men against every one of the garrison, and the odds were
more than sufficient for success.

The only weapons available for B Company, as Challis called the
released prisoners, were the tools included in their camp
equipment--mallets, hatchets, hammers, a saw, and a few tent pegs.

Though so ill provided, Royce thought that in day time the defence
would have a sporting chance.  The rifles could take toll of the
enemy while they were advancing over the three or four hundred yards
of fairly open ground beneath the fort; and even if the attack were
pushed home to the walls, it would be possible to reinforce the men
in the quarter where the assault was hottest.

A night attack would be much more difficult to meet.  Covered by the
darkness, the enemy might approach to within a few yards of the walls
without being detected, if they moved quietly; without suffering much
loss, if they were heard.  At the walls their numbers would tell far
more effectually than in daylight.  With such odds in their favour,
it would seem impossible to keep them out.  And if once they got in,
the garrison must inevitably be overwhelmed.

But the Englishmen had little fear of a night attack.  It was more
likely that the Tubus would move in the twilight of early morning.
This would be little less formidable.  They might creep a long way up
the hill before they were seen, and the chance of checking their rush
would be small.

From the defensive point of view the weakest spot in the surroundings
of the fort was a patch of rocky scrub-covered ground about a hundred
and fifty yards away on the north-east side.  It provided good cover
for an advance up the hill, and left only a short distance for the
final charge.  From the attackers' point of view the disadvantage of
this spot was that it was small in extent, and would give cover to
only a limited number of men.

The day having passed undisturbed, Royce could not help feeling a
little anxious about the night.  What if the Tubus should attack,
after all?  He decided to keep half the garrison on guard while the
rest slept, and to send three or four of the most trustworthy Hausas
some way down the hill to act as scouts and give warning of any
movement of the enemy.

Both he and Challis, during their spells of watching, went round and
round the walls with the regularity of soldiers doing sentry-go.
Eyes and ears were tensely on the alert; not a sound escaped them.
The little various noises made by birds, insects, and small animals
darting through the scrub were sometimes smothered by sounds from the
distant camp.  At one time the din was so loud that Challis, who was
on duty at the moment, was almost on the point of awakening Royce.
But he reflected that warriors intending a night attack, even though
savages, would have the common-sense to move quietly, and he took
himself to task for what he considered a tendency to panic.

"I mustn't get jumpy," he said to himself; "but this is a great
change from camping on Salisbury Plain."

In the morning, as soon as the sky began to lighten, Royce set the
men to work again on repairing the walls.  Presently he caught sight
of some of the enemy in the distance.  They were evidently watching
the fort.  A little later one of them fired, and at odd times during
the morning there was fitful sniping whenever the workers allowed
themselves to be seen above the walls.  But no one was hit, and the
Hausas' contempt for the Tubus' marksmanship was voiced by John.

"Dey good for nuffin, sah," he said.  "You hold a bottle, me hit him;
dem fellas no can hit a house."

Working in squads, the men had by midday completely blocked up the
gateway, and repaired all the breaches that were dangerous.

"I feel better now," said Royce, as he sat with Challis, eating the
scanty meal which had to serve them for dinner.  "Of course, they
could still take the place by a determined rush; but, if they attempt
it, they'll suffer more heavily than if they had had the sense or the
pluck to come on before we had finished."

"They'll play a waiting game," said Challis.  "How long will the grub
last, do you think?"

"We can eke it out for ten days or so, by going short.  I wonder if
one of us could run the gauntlet and make for the nearest British
post?"

"It would take more than ten days to get there.  Everybody would
starve before help came.  Besides, there are only about a dozen men
in charge, and they wouldn't be strong enough to undertake an
expedition such a long distance, and fight their way through some
hundreds of horsemen."

"How many do you think they really muster?"

"I've never had a good enough view of them in mass; but, at a guess,
I should say six hundred or so."

"They'll take some feeding."

"Yes, but they have the whole country to forage in, and I daresay
there are foraging parties out in all directions.  They may bring
their total number up to a thousand."

"Well, old sport, if we can manage to stick it with our forty, we
shall deserve at least a line or two in history."

"Skittles!  I'd give a good deal not to be mentioned in your history!"

"'One crowded hour of glorious life is worth an age without a name.'"

"D'you call this glorious?"

"Don't you?  I don't mean that it's glorious to lick a crowd of
heathens, but I do think it's a fine thing to have been able to win
the confidence of our forty men."

"So it is, and it will be a finer thing to show that we deserve it."

The day passed; dusk fell.  The arrangements for the night were as
before.  Royce took the first watch, with half the garrison.

Challis, leaving him at his post on the north-east bastion, made his
way along the passages that separated the several chambers of the
building, towards his quarters, picking his way carefully in order
not to trip over the fallen brick and other debris that strewed the
floor.

Turning a corner, he saw in the half-light, a little way ahead, the
figure of a negro cross his path from left to right.  At first he
thought it was John or Kulana, the only men who might have any reason
to be in the neighbourhood of the white men's quarters.  John looked
after the food, which had been placed in an adjacent chamber for
security; Kulana acted as body servant.

But it immediately occurred to Challis that neither of the men had
any business there at this hour.  Then he remembered that John was
actually on duty with Royce.  Was it possible that some other member
of the party was making a private raid on the stores?

He hurried on after the man, who had passed the room in which the
stores were kept and was going in the direction of the well-yard.
His back was towards Challis--a broad back, belonging to a man of
huge stature.

"Great snakes!" Challis inwardly ejaculated.

He quickened his pace.  The man heard his steps, and glanced round;
then dashed through a ruined doorway leading to the well-yard.

Challis gave a shout and rushed after him.  It was now dark inside
the building, and he groped about without finding the negro.  His
shout had brought Royce up at a run.

"What is it?" he cried anxiously.

"A strange nigger--a big fellow--Goruba?" said Challis.

"Surely not!" said Royce, flashing his electric torch.  "There's no
one here.'"

"He's got away.  We must search the place."

Together they scoured the whole building; no trace of the man could
be found.  None of the garrison had left his post; every man declared
solemnly that no one had entered from outside, nor gone out from
within.

"If I didn't know you, old man," said Royce, "I should say you had a
fit of the jumps.  You think it was Goruba?"

"It looked very much like that big fellow who collared me.  But how
could he have got in or out?"

"It's decidedly rummy.  You remember Goruba came on me suddenly, and
John hadn't seen him.  Strange that you should have had almost the
same experience!"

"What did he come for, if it was Goruba?  To spy out the position?"

"Not easy in the dark.  I confess it beats me.  How did the fellow
get in?  It was hardly dark outside, and our men must have seen him,
one would think.  Yet I believe them."

"We had better search for a secret passage to-morrow, though I can't
think we should have missed it if there is one.  One thing is
certain--Goruba has some interest in this fort which we don't know.
That explains the persistence of the Tubus."

"I wonder!  Well, we can't do anything to-night.  I only hope it
hasn't made our men jumpy.  It's an uncanny thing to find an enemy in
your midst unawares."



CHAPTER XVII

A NIGHT ADVENTURE

"I am a silly ass," said Challis, as the two returned to the bastion.

"Why, what's the matter?" asked Royce, smiling at his companion's
disgusted tone.

"Why did I shout?  If I had held my tongue, we might have kept this
matter from the men.  As it is, they are sure to have an attack of
nerves."

"Oh, well! don't worry about it.  We can't always do absolutely the
best thing.  It's a mystery how the fellow got in, and what he was up
to.  We must watch him if he tries it again."

As Challis feared, the men were restless.  Nobody had much sleep that
night, and the Englishmen were unfeignedly glad when day dawned.

The day passed wearisomely.  The enemy were seen moving about among
the trees, but there was no attack.

"You see that spur of forest yonder?" said Royce in the afternoon,
pointing to a clump on the north-east side of the fort.  "It's only
about two hundred yards away, and would be a capital vantage point
for an attack.  Yet it's the only bit of woodland which the enemy
don't appear to occupy.  I wonder why?"

"Perhaps they think it's a little too near us," suggested Challis.
"It's within practically point-blank range of our rifles."

"But there are so many of them that they could afford to try a rush
from that point.  It's very strange.  Barring an occasional sniping
shot towards evening, nothing has happened from that quarter, and the
sniper has never done any damage."

"The Tubus' main camp is only a little to the north of it.  They may
not think it worth while to occupy the second and smaller clump....
Tom, I've been thinking."

"The same old problem?"

"Yes, the part we are no nearer to solving--the food supply.  It is
clear we are in for a siege.  The men will soon get weary, as our
stores diminish.  We shall be starved out inside a fortnight, even if
the men don't lose heart and begin to clamour."

"You are thinking of making a sally?"

"Not exactly.  Look at the position.  If we stay, we starve; if we
break out in a body, we shall be pursued and surrounded.  But why
shouldn't some of us slip out and try to get help?"

"I thought we had settled that.  The nearest British station is too
far away; to get to the nearest French one we should have to cross
the Tubus' country."

"But what about the natives of the neighbourhood?"

"All who are not massacred are in a stew of fright, I expect.  They
wouldn't lift a hand against the Tubus."

"Not if one of us, either you or I, applied to them?  The white man
has a certain prestige, you know.  Anyhow, I think it ought to be
tried; in fact, it must be.  I might revisit that old chap who sold
us provisions."

"Or I might.  It's my turn."

"Hang turns! I know the old chap."

"Why shouldn't I have the pleasure of his acquaintance?  But, to
avoid the eternal dispute, let's toss again."

"Right-o!  I always win the toss.  Heads!"

"Tails it is!  Your luck is out.  Fate has more respect for turns
than you.  I'll go this very night."

"You will want John as interpreter."

"It's a pity to reduce the garrison by two rifles, but I'm afraid it
can't be helped."

"And you had better take one of B Company as guide.  They are no good
with the rifle.  I'll get John to choose a man."

"There's one advantage to you--you'll have three fewer mouths to
feed.  We'll only take a little with us, and trust to chance to pick
up more on the way, if we need it."

"You must wait till the moon sets.  That will be rather late
to-night."

"Yes.  You'll let us down over the wall on the north-east, towards
that clump of trees you mentioned.  There's apparently no danger
there, and we'll soon be under cover."

"The idea is to bring back reinforcements, of course.  They must
carry their own supplies.  I don't think much of your chances, but
I'm sure it's worth trying."

"Whether we succeed or fail, we'll come back by night.  We must
arrange a signal, so that you don't pot us by mistake."

"John imitates the jackal's cry to the life.  If I hear three barks
in quick succession, I shall know it's you."

John was quite ready to accompany "Massa Chally."  Without imputing
cowardice to the head-man, it is certain that he thought the plight
of the garrison desperate, and was not sorry to take his chance
outside rather than within the works.  He selected as guide a
strapping young Kanura named Mogra, who was well acquainted with the
country.

They had to wait until long past midnight for the setting of the
moon.  Challis did not regret the delay.  By the time they could
start the Tubus would probably be well asleep.  Every night the glow
of their camp-fires could be seen at different spots round the fort,
and sounds were heard far into the night from each of the camps.

On this occasion it seemed that the enemy turned in even later than
usual.  It was at least an hour after the moon's disappearance that
silence fell upon the country.  Then the little band were let down by
a rope gently over the wall, on the side farthest from the gateway.

Dark though it was, Challis thought it well to crawl down the hillock
until level ground was reached.  Then the three stole along under
cover of the bushes towards the patch of woodland.

Half-way across, Challis inadvertently kicked a loose stone, and
paused, listening anxiously.  There was no sound of alarm.  They
reached the clump, and crept through it, leaving the enemy's camp on
the left, and meeting no obstacle except the undergrowth, in which
they were all experienced travellers.

"I don't see why we shouldn't all have got out," said Challis to
himself, feeling half-inclined to run back and persuade Royce to join
him.

But the hopelessness of such an attempt was borne in upon him at once
by a sound on his left.  The enemy's horses were snuffling and pawing
the ground, apparently between him and the campfire.  Even if the
garrison could leave the fort quietly enough to escape instant
detection, they must move slowly, burdened with packs as they would
be.  Their tracks would be discovered in the morning, and the mounted
Tubus could overtake them in a few hours.

Challis had just dismissed the idea of a general exodus as
impracticable, when the slight sounds made by the horses swelled to a
considerable noise.  The snuffling became snorting and whinnying, and
there mingled with it one or two human calls.  Could the flight have
been discovered?

Mogra was leading, with John close behind, Challis third of the line.
At the commotion the guide was seized with panic, and was bolting
blindly forward, when John dashed up behind him, caught him by the
neck, and bade him, in language which he understood, not to be a fool.

They went on, carefully picking their way through the scrub.  The
noise on their left rear increased.  They heard numbers of horses
galloping away to the north and north-east, and many men shouting.
Challis wondered whether the Tubus had been drawn away by sudden news
from their own country, or by some false alarm.  Then a gust of wind
striking him from the right suggested a more likely explanation.  The
wind was carrying his scent to the camp.  Unused to the scent of a
white man, the horses had taken fright and stampeded, followed
hot-foot by their owners.

In order to get well out of the current of possible pursuit, Challis
ordered Mogra to bear more to the east.  They pushed on steadily for
two hours.  By this time dawn was approaching.

In the half-light they suddenly caught sight of four or five big
shapes moving slowly through the morning mist across their path some
little distance ahead.  At the spot where they had arrived there were
no bushes to give cover, and Challis ordered the men in a whisper to
fling themselves flat on the ground.

There was no cause for alarm, but rather for self-congratulation.  In
less than a minute they recognised the misty shapes as riderless
horses.

"What luck!" thought Challis.  "Provided their riders are not
anywhere near, John," he said, "you and Mogra must catch three of
those horses.  If I try, they will scent me and bolt.  I'll keep
guard."

The two negroes set off.  Challis watched their tactics admiringly.
They crept on all fours round to leeward of the horses, which were
grazing on low-growing plants, and drew near to them by almost
imperceptible degrees.  Suddenly they sprang up, dashed forward, and
had two halters in their hands.

Mogra led the two captured horses to Challis, while John went ahead
after the others, which had galloped away.  In ten minutes he
returned, all smiles and triumph.

"Berry fine horse for massa," he cried.  "Me tink dis one no good,
dat one no good; massa must have bestest; here him are, sah, sure and
sartin."

It was a fine grey mare, thin fetlocked, slender in the flanks, with
a noble head.  Challis tried to mount, but the mare bucked and
curvetted, with evident dislike of handling by a white man.
Challis's difficulties with it amused John, whose horse was perfectly
docile.  A little patient coaxing and the gift, happily inspired, of
a roasted nut from Challis's wallet, reconciled the animal to her new
master; and Challis found himself mounted on the best bit of
horseflesh he had ever had the luck to bestride.

"Now, then, Mogra!" he called.

Mogra was bashful.  The third horse stood quite still, as if inviting
the man to mount; but he had never been on horseback, and stood
holding the halter with an air of weighing the chances of getting
safely into the saddle.

John rocked with laughter, when Mogra, at last plucking up courage,
fumbled for the stirrup and almost fell under the horse's belly,
still clinging to the halter.

"Get down and help him," said Challis, anxious to be off.

John dismounted and hoisted Mogra into the saddle by main force.

"Him silly chap, sah," he said grinning.  "Tumble off, sure 'nuff."

But Mogra did not tumble off.  Now that he was on, he determined to
stick fast.  Gripping the animal with his bare knees, wearing an
expression compounded of grim determination and the fear of sudden
death, he no doubt owed his stability to the placid temperament of
his steed.  Challis set a slow pace, so that the man might grow
accustomed to his unfamiliar position, and the three rode on together.



CHAPTER XVIII

ATTACKED BY LIONS

Challis had already decided not to make for the village at which
Royce had obtained supplies.  It lay far on the other side of the
fort, and Mogra did not know it.  Mogra had suggested that they
should go to his own village, which was only a day's march eastward
of the fort, and to this Challis had agreed.

On horseback they made better progress than on foot, and soon after
midday came in sight of the village.  At the first glimpse of it
Mogra uttered a wail--there were signs that here, too, the Tubus had
been at their desolating work.  And in truth, when the horsemen rode
into the wide street, their passage was through ruins.  Not a house
was standing; neither human being nor brute beast was to be seen.

"What has become of all the people?" said Challis.  "Surely they
can't all have been carried away as slaves?"

"No, sah--old men no good, old women no good," said John.  "All gone
dead."

"But there are no dead bodies--no remains of any kind," said Challis
with a shudder.

John confessed that he, too, was puzzled at this remarkable fact.
Turning to Mogra, he demanded, with a sort of remonstrant anger,
where all the young man's people were.  And then Mogra told a little
story.

"In the days of our fathers," he said, "long, long ago, the bad men
came to this village even as they have done these few days past, and
it is told that my people learnt beforehand of their coming, and went
a day's journey to the east, and there took refuge in a cave.  I have
never been there, nor my father, nor any of the people of his age;
but the cave is known to certain of the old men of the village, and
it may be that they have led our people there."

John translated this in his own queer way.

"It sounds very romantic," remarked Challis musingly.

"Berry big lie, sah!" said John decisively.

"Come, now, you mustn't call Mogra a liar!  Ask him if he can lead us
there."

"Him say savvy way little bit, den him go lost," said John, after
questioning the man.

"Well, let him try the little bit; there's no harm in that.  If he
comes to a check, we must trust to luck."

Mogra showed no hesitation at the start; but, after riding for a
couple of hours, he declared that he could guide them no farther.

"Does he know what sort of country is round about the cave?" asked
Challis.

It was bare and rocky, said Mogra, with hardly any vegetation; but he
remembered having heard that one particularly large tree stood in
front of the cave.

"We will cast about for that, then," said Challis.  "Let us take
different directions."

"No, no, no!" said John energetically.  "Go all same one way."

"Very well, if you are afraid of our losing one another, we will all
go together."

They rode on, searching the country over a wide area; but the
afternoon was wearing to evening, and they had still lighted on no
trace of the cave.  Challis began to think they had better give it up
and make for another village before night enveloped them.

The horses were growing tired, and showed signs of uneasiness which
Challis was puzzled to account for.  The explanation came with
startling suddenness.  On rounding a rocky eminence they saw, only a
hundred yards away, two lions lying side by side.

The trembling horses reared, backed, then turned tail and fled in
terror.  Mogra was thrown almost at once, and neither Challis nor
John could check their horses for a considerable distance.  When at
last they regained control over them, they returned, afraid that
Mogra might have been pursued by the beasts and by this time be torn
in pieces.

They were relieved in a few minutes to see him running towards them
at the speed of a hunted deer.  There was no sign of the lions;
Challis conjectured that they were digesting a heavy meal.  Mogra was
shaking with fright, but unhurt except for a bruise or two.  His
horse had disappeared.

As they stood discussing what to do next, John caught sight of a
number of men in the distance.  Two or three at the head of the party
appeared to be carrying something among them.

"Him say belong him," said John, after a word from Mogra.

"Tell him to call them," Challis commanded.  The men turned at
Mogra's shout; but they evidently did not recognise him in the
distance, and no doubt supposed the horsemen to be Tubus, for they
hurried on with every sign of distress.

"_Yoi-aloo!  Yoi-aloo!_" bawled John.  "White man!  White man! ...
Berry silly chaps, sah!"

"Let us ride towards them," said Challis.  "Stay!  Let Mogra run
ahead."

They remained stationary, while Mogra hastened to his friends, who
soon came to a halt.  Mogra ran back.  He explained that they were
carrying to the cave the son of their chief, who had been mauled by
one of the lions.  One of their fellows had already been eaten.  They
were willing that the white man should accompany them to the cave.

The party reached it just before dark.  Challis was surprised to find
that its entrance was fully exposed--a large hole in the side of a
rocky hill.  He concluded that its security lay in its being situated
in a desolate region that was unlikely to tempt any raiding party.

An attempt had been made to render it more defensible by blocking up
the entrance with trees felled on the hillside.  The large tree of
which Mogra had spoken, the configuration of the ground, and a few
scattered cactus plants screened it from view from a distance.

The entrance was dark, but the interior of the cave was faintly
illuminated by torches.  When the party entered, the horses being
tethered to the tree, the strangers were at first ignored in the
general excitement and lamentation over the injuries of the chief's
son.

His was the third case in two days.  Examining his wounds, the chief,
a bearded man of about sixty years, wrung his hands with grief, and
the women howled in concert.

It was some time before Challis got an opportunity of explaining
through John the object of his visit, of which Mogra had already
given his version.  On hearing his story, the chief refused to assist
him.

"What the white man asks is too hard a thing," he said.  "How can I,
with only eighty men of fighting age, expect to accomplish anything
against a multitude of Tubus?  They have guns, we have none; they
have horses, we have none.  It is too hard a thing."

John expostulated, pleaded, at last threatened; and Challis,
perceiving that his well-meant efforts only annoyed the old man and
made him more obdurate, decided not to press the matter for the
moment.  It was something gained that the chief consented to shelter
the strangers for the night.  For safety's sake they brought the
horses in.

During the hours of darkness the lions could be heard roaring in the
neighbourhood of the cave.  At moments they seemed to be almost at
the entrance, and the negroes shivered with terror lest the beasts
should break in.  They could not light a fire--usually, though not
always, effectual in scaring away lions--for fear the glare should
betray the position of the cave to the Tubus.  It seemed that they
had escaped human foes only to fall a prey to foes still more
formidable.

Challis passed a very uncomfortable night.  The atmosphere of the
cave was nauseating.  The villagers, more than two hundred in number,
had brought many of their cattle with them, and the place, large as
it was, was overcrowded.

The foul air, the roaring of the lions outside, the lowing of the
cattle within, and his own worried thoughts, combined to banish
sleep; and at the first sign of dawn Challis was glad to escape into
the fresh air.  He took his rifle, and left the cave, to think
matters over in the cool freshness of the morning.

It was a pity that, having found Mogra's tribe, he could not avail
himself of the eighty fighting men of whom the chief had spoken.  Yet
he could not think of any argument, any inducement, that was likely
to prevail over the old man's reluctance.  Apparently, he must travel
further in search of help.

Walking along, lost in thought, he came upon a watercourse worn by a
small stream in the rocky surface of the hillside.  He was on the
point of turning back, for walking was aimless except as an aid to
thought.  But suddenly his eye was caught by a slight movement behind
a rock on the far side of the nullah, at this point about eight yards
broad and six feet deep.

The object which had attracted his notice was a moving patch of dusky
brown.  It had disappeared, but a moment later again rose into view.
And then Challis was galvanised from meditation into a state of mind
keenly practical, for the brownish patch resolved itself into the
shaggy head of a lion.

In another moment he perceived a lioness, standing behind and
slightly lower than her mate.  Both were watching him.

For perhaps five seconds surprise held him spellbound.  He stood with
fascinated eyes fixed on the lions; they, at first somewhat sleepy
looking, were becoming more and more alert, growling with a deep
rumble.  Then, following the instinct of a sportsman, he raised his
rifle, and, aiming at the forehead of the animal he had seen first,
he fired.

There was an angry roar; the lion sprang over the low rock, and
dashed straight at Challis across the nullah.

Tingling with high-strung excitement, Challis fired again, apparently
without effect, and felt that his last moment was come.

But the lion's spring was a few inches short.  Just as Challis was
nervously fitting a new cartridge, the beast struck the bank of the
nullah within two feet of where he was standing, and fell back into
the stream.

[Illustration: A FATAL LEAP]

Challis seized the opportunity which he could hardly have hoped for.
Aiming behind the lion's shoulder, he fired again, and the beast
rolled over, clawing the air.

The lioness, meanwhile, sullenly growling, had risen from behind the
boulder and was slowly retreating.  Challis was almost too flurried
to take good aim; but he chanced a shot, again directing it behind
the shoulder.  He could hardly believe his eyes when the animal
dropped without a sound.

"That's something in return for a poor night's lodging," he said to
himself as he walked back to the cave.

The first shot had drawn his own men and a number of the villagers to
the entrance, and they had witnessed the fall of the dread beasts.
Loud shouts acclaimed the white man's prowess.  It seemed that the
people could not do enough to show their gratitude.

And the chief had now completely changed his mind.  Impressed by the
slaying of the lions, he was willing to give the help he had formerly
refused.

"It is wonderful," he said, spreading his hands.  "The white man has
slain with his marvellous gun the beasts that slew my people and
wounded my son.  Shall I not do something in return?  Never have I
seen such a marvellous deed!"

Challis thanked him.  Later on, when he went back and examined the
dead lions, he did not think it necessary to inform the chief that
the lioness had been killed by what was really a miss.  He had aimed
behind the shoulder, but he found that the shot had entered at the
ear and pierced the brain.



CHAPTER XIX

TRAINING AN ARMY

After Challis's adventure with the lions, the villagers, as the way
of negroes is, were just as eager to help the white man as they had
formerly been reluctant.

A man who, unaided, could kill two lions was surely a very wonderful
person.  Not even the dreaded Tubus could stand against him.  It
would be a blessing to the whole countryside if the power of the
Tubus were broken.  The white man asked their help--he should have it.

The chief ordered all the males of the community to assemble in front
of the cave.  His eighty fighting-men, splendid specimens of muscular
humanity, gathered in a disorderly crowd on one side.  Some were
almost naked, others wore a sort of shawl folded about them as a
Scots shepherd folds his plaid; it left one shoulder bare, and
descended to the knee.  All carried spears about four feet long.

The other group comprised the boys, the elderly men, and the few
weaklings of the tribe.

"I will make Boy Scouts of some of them," said Challis to himself as
he viewed them.

The chief led him in and out among the crowd of warriors, pointing to
one man as a famous hunter, to another as a mighty thrower of the
spear, to a third whose body was scarred with wounds received in
fight.  He was evidently proud of his men.

"Let the white man take them at once," he said, John interpreting.
"They are well fed; they have eaten the flesh of oxen; they are ready
even now to follow the killer of lions."

He was as much astonished as disappointed when Challis explained, as
tactfully as he could, that he did not yet consider them ready to
accompany him back to the fort.

"What more does the white man need?" he asked, somewhat huffily.

Challis reflected for a few moments before replying.  He did not
quite know how to deal with these ignorant natives, so prompt to take
offence and sulk like children.  But he was clear in his own mind.

To render effective service against experienced warriors like the
Tubus, dashing horsemen armed with guns, accustomed to carry all
before them in a wild charge, something more than muscle and goodwill
was required.

It was plain that these natives were wholly undisciplined.  Challis
felt sure that in battle every man acted for himself, without any
relation to his comrades, and he had already resolved that they must
undergo some sort of elementary training before they could be of any
real use.

The matter that worried him was the shortness of time.  Royce's
provisions might be eked out over a fortnight--what could be done in
a fortnight towards training these wild, untutored children of nature?

"You know the Tubus, chief," he said, making up his mind to be frank.
"Your people have suffered at their hands--even now you have fled
from them.  They have horses and guns--you know how helpless your
best warriors have been before them.  We must change all that.  Your
men must learn how to fight in such a way that the Tubus' advantages
over them are lessened."

This was the gist of his speech, which was very much longer, and
expressed in simple words that John could translate.  The chief, in
spite of the fact that his men had recently run away from the Tubus,
seemed annoyed that any doubt was cast on their capacity.  But, after
a while, he asked sullenly what the white man wished to do.

"First of all, I want you to send messengers to all the friendly
villages round about, asking the chiefs to send their best fighting
men to join us.  Tell them that we are going to fight the Tubus, and
put a stop to their evil deeds."

"That shall be done, O white man!"

"Then I want to see what your own men can do with the spear, how they
march, and how they attack."

"That shall be done, O white man!"

He gave an order.  The warriors formed up, as Challis expected, in
single file, and marched thus, lithely as wild animals, before him.
At another order they started to run, uttering fierce yells, crowding
into an unwieldy mob, and flinging their spears high into the air.
The chief watched them proudly, and glanced at Challis as if to say:
"Can you wish for anything better than that?"

"It is very good," said Challis, to the chief's great contentment.
"Now bring them back; I want to find out which are the best spearmen."

The men, gathering their spears, came running back in a scattered
crowd, and collected again in their former shapeless array.

Asking permission from the chief, Challis ordered John to form the
men up in line.  It was a long and difficult business.  No sooner
were a few of the negroes placed shoulder to shoulder than one man
would step out to see what a particular friend of his was doing some
distance away, and showed a good deal of resentment when John hauled
him back and explained vigorously that he must not move without leave.

Then another man would find that he had something urgent to say to
his mother, among the crowd of women watching the scene curiously,
and he would sprint across the ground, engage in animated dialogue
with the old woman, and return at his leisure.

John was reduced to despair.

"Silly fellas, sure 'nuff, sah!" he said in dudgeon.  "Dey no
good--too much fools, all same!"

An idea occurred to Challis.  Knowing from his past experience with
the Hausas how keenly negroes enter into competition one with
another, he ordered John to explain that, if the men kept the line,
he would give prizes to the best spearmen as soon as they reached the
fort, and make them his own bodyguard.

After the men had gathered into a crowd and squabbled noisily for
several minutes, this offer had the desired effect.  They allowed
themselves to be formed into a line, which, however, all John's
efforts could not prevent from gradually assuming a crescent shape.
Then, one by one, after several failures to make them act in turn,
they threw their spears at the word of command.  In this way, Challis
selected the twenty men whose cast was the longest and straightest,
and they immediately rushed across to the spectators to proclaim
their merits.

By this time Challis was very tired.

"Drilling my platoon in the O.T.C. was nothing to this," he said to
himself.  "How in the world can I make anything of them in a
fortnight?"

But after rest and food, he was ready to tackle the work again, and
he took heart when he found that the negroes were much more amenable.

The spirit of emulation he had excited among them lightened the task.
Every man seemed anxious to win praise from the white man.  The idea
had got abroad among them that the exercises to which he put them
were so much "white man's medicine," something that would have a
mystic efficacy when they came in contact with the enemy.  As this
idea implied unquestioning faith, it was all that Challis required.

He was careful not to keep them too long at one thing.  When they had
at last seized the idea of a straight line, though still far from
successful in achieving it, he set the twenty selected spearmen to
compete among themselves, and devoted his attention to the sixty less
proficient.

These he determined to turn into pikemen.  He got them to cut longer
shafts for their spear heads and to sharpen the lower end, so that by
the close of the day they were provided with serviceable pikes eight
feet long.

The end of the day brought its disappointment.  The messengers
dispatched by the chief to neighbouring villages returned and
reported the complete failure of their mission.  Such was the
universal dread of the Tubus that no chief was willing to send his
men to encounter them.  Not even the messengers' report of the
lion-killing sufficed to overcome their fears.

"They will sit on the fence," thought Challis.  "If we have any
success, they'll come tumbling over each other to help.  Well, we
haven't done so badly for the first day.  I must make plans for
to-morrow."

He spent that night, not in the fœtid cave, but in the open,
protected from wild beasts by a ring of bonfires.  After all, he
thought, they were too far from the Tubus' camps to attract attention.

Next morning, after repeating the lessons of the previous day, and
finding that the men gave much less trouble, he taught them how to
extend, moving them up and down with fair success.  With John's
assistance, he got them to turn right or left at the word of command.

At first they laughed so heartily at the sight of one another moving
like teetotums that discipline was in danger of breaking down.
Challis himself was amused, thinking how wrathful the loud-voiced
drill-instructor at his old school would have been if the boys had
taken their drill as lightheartedly as these negroes.  But after a
time they settled down to learn their new prescription in "white
man's medicine," and made the proper movements with creditable
smartness.

The next operation was to form three sides of a square--their numbers
did not suffice for a full square of any considerable size.  This was
difficult.

"Do their minds work in curves?" thought Challis despairingly, as the
men tended persistently to round the angles and join the ends of the
lines.

But even this difficulty was surmounted with patience, and the close
of the second day saw him one step nearer the accomplishment of his
aim--to train the negroes to sustain the assaults of a mounted enemy.

It was the next stage that he found most difficult of all.  A good
shot himself, he sighed for rifles, that he might teach the men to
shoot.  With such obsolete weapons as spears and pikes he felt
himself at a loss.

But common sense and recollections of what he had read about
Cromwell's army came to his aid.  He taught the men forming the
three-sided square to stand fast with their pikes planted obliquely
in the ground, supported with the left hand, while they held in the
right their short stabbing spears.

Meanwhile he practised the twenty selected men in pushing out in
advance, casting their spears, and then running back for refuge into
the square.  The whole force learnt to lie down at the word of
command, to rise, to advance, to retire.

In order to accustom them as much as possible to the conditions they
would have to meet, he got the chief to send into the neighbourhood
to hunt up or purchase horses.  Such of the men as could ride he
mounted, and he organised sham charges, so that the men on foot grew
used to the approach of horses at the gallop.

By the end of the fifth day the negroes had entered into all these
exercises with spirit and enjoyment.  Nothing pleased them better
than the charges of the few horsemen.  The spearmen would advance
some twenty paces in front of the pikemen, pretend to discharge their
spears when the horsemen came within range, then turn and run back
between the open ranks of the pikemen, whose weapons were planted at
an angle calculated to transfix the oncoming horses and men.

When the spearmen had run behind the pikemen, they would wheel round
and discharge another flight of spears.  The horsemen carried their
sham charge to within a few yards of the spears before they reined
up.  In their ardour, indeed, they sometimes failed to obey promptly
the order to halt, and one or two of them received ugly wounds.  But
they took these in good part, and, when the day's work was done, were
to be seen proudly displaying their injuries to their relatives.

"I only hope they will be as cheerful in the real thing," thought
Challis.



CHAPTER XX

THE MYSTERY DEEPENS

When Challis and John crept down the hill that dark night, Royce
remained for some time at the wall, listening anxiously for sounds
which would indicate whether the Tubus had discovered them.

For a time all was silent; there was not even a rustle; he hoped all
was well.  But presently the thud of galloping horses and the shouts
of men sent a shiver down his spine.  Was his friend being pursued?

A moment's thought relieved his fears.  If Challis had been caught,
the negroes would not have needed to ride after him.  If he had once
got past them, they would hardly be aware of it.  He concluded that
something had caused the animals to stampede.  Challis might be
trusted to avoid being ridden down.

Reassured though he was, Royce spent an uneasy night.  After setting
a double watch at each corner of the fort, he turned in, but set his
alarm clock to wake him in an hour.  He then made a round of the
fort, to assure himself that the sentries were not asleep.

It was not easy, as he knew, to keep negroes awake on guard.  The
necessity of waking so frequently, after short naps, was very wearing.

"By the time Tom gets back," he thought, "I shall be half dead with
fatigue."

About dawn he had reason to be glad that he had not spared himself.
He found the men on duty at the south-west corner fast asleep.
Rousing them, not too gently, he looked out over the wall to see for
himself whether there was any sign of the enemy.

His first impression was one of relief.  There was no indication of
anything unusual, so far as he could see in the grey dawn.

A second glance, however, raised a doubt.  There seemed to be more
bushes on the slope than he remembered on this side of the fort.
Here and there, projecting slightly above the general contour, there
were dark, shapeless masses.

He called up Kulana, who acted as interpreter in John's absence.

"You see those?" he said quietly.  "What are they?"

The objects were very dim and indistinct.  The man peered at them,
and in a moment said, in the same hushed tone as Royce had used:

"Dem bushes, sah."

Kulana, however, was hardly awake yet.  One of the negro guards, who
had had time to collect himself, noticed Kulana and his master
staring at something on the hillside.  He, too, peered into the
semi-darkness.

"Men!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"No, bushes!" rejoined Kulana.

They were raising their voices in dispute, each sticking to his
opinion, and Royce bade them be silent.  Unable to decide the matter
himself, he felt that he dared take no risks.  Quietly summoning the
garrison, he sent them to their allotted posts behind the wall,
ordering them to be careful not to show their heads above it.

Then he resolved to put the matter to the test.  Taking his rifle, he
fired just above the nearest of the suspicious objects, not directly
aiming at it, hoping that fright would effect his purpose.

The result was immediate, and though not wholly unexpected, was none
the less surprising.  The harmless discharge of his rifle was
followed by a movement recalling the effect of a gunshot on a covey
of hidden birds.  The hillside seemed to start into life and motion.
A number of low, dark forms sprang up in the half-light, swiftly
descended the hill, and disappeared in the mist on the level ground
beyond.

"A surprise for them instead of the one they intended for me,"
thought Royce.  "I hope they won't try it again; it is hateful to
shoot the poor wretches, but there's nothing else for it if they
attack."

Only the knowledge of the miseries these pests of the country had
inflicted on scores of peaceable villages reconciled Royce to the
part he felt himself called upon to play.

He seized the occasion to impress upon his men the necessity for
watchfulness while on duty.

"Your falling asleep," he said to the two repentant sentries, "might
have led to the capture of the fort, and the death or enslavement of
all of us.  Take care in future."

During the day it occurred to him that the men would be all the
better for active employment.  At the same time, in view of the
attempted surprise, it was advisable still further to strengthen
their defences.

Accordingly, he set them to dig a ditch a few feet inside the wall.
The proper place for it was outside, of course; but to dig it there
would expose them to danger.  Moreover, the Tubus might fill it up or
bridge it.  If it were inside, on the other hand, it would form an
unexpected obstacle should they scale the wall.

There was not enough water to make a moat of it; but, dug to a depth
of several feet, it would seriously embarrass the attackers, even
though dry.

The men at the north-east corner, when they had dug about six feet
below the surface, came suddenly upon something hard, upon which the
sharpened stones they used as spades made no impression.  They
reported the discovery to Royce, who went to the spot and jumped down
so that he might examine the obstruction.

It proved to be a course of brickwork.  Taking the spade, Royce dug
the earth away from its edge for several feet, wondering what purpose
the bricks served.

[Illustration: THE DISCOVERY IN THE DITCH]

Perhaps, he thought, they were part of some building still more
ancient than the fort itself.  It would be interesting to excavate
more thoroughly, and find out whether anything of value, in the shape
of old weapons, coins, or pottery, lay beneath the foundations.

But that must be a task for the future.  At present the business in
hand was the completion of the ditch.  The bricks being almost level
with the bottom of the part which had already been dug out, he
decided that it was unnecessary to remove them, and he ordered the
men to go on with their work in another direction.

By dusk that evening the ditch was half finished.  Royce, after
eating his scanty supper, was sitting alone, tired out, wondering
what had happened to Challis, whether he would succeed in getting
help, how long it would be before he came back.

All at once he heard a shout of alarm, followed by a cry of pain.
Springing up, he rushed in the direction of the sounds.  The whole
garrison was in a ferment, and two of the men had reached the scene
before him.

"What is it?" he cried, thinking that perhaps some of the men had
been quarrelling.

But on his arrival he found one of the Hausas groaning with pain,
supported by his two comrades.  They pointed to a gash in the man's
thigh.

"Bring him along," said Royce to Kulana, deferring questions until he
had rendered first-aid.

They carried the man to Royce's room.  Royce took some lint from his
medical stores, soaked it in water, and tied it tightly over the
wound.  He saw at once that the injury was not serious, and the cut,
being clean, would heal in a few days.

"Now, how did it happen?" he asked.

The negro told Kulana that he had suddenly seen beside him a
stranger, a man of immense size, very fierce-looking, with two long
scars on each cheek.  He had given a shout of alarm and rushed at the
man, who was moving stealthily towards the well-yard.  At the shout
the stranger turned, dug his knife savagely into the Hausa's side,
and rushed away.

Royce wished that he had questioned the man before.  It would be
hopeless to search for the intruder now.  From the description, he
had no doubt that it was Goruba, who had entered the fort for the
second time in some mysterious way.

Royce was staggered.  How had the man contrived again to get in
unperceived?  What sentries could cope with him?  What could be his
object in coming alone into the fort?  Why was he running such risks
in venturing unsupported among a garrison whom he knew to be
well-armed and watchful?

"I must solve this mystery," Royce said to himself.  "The men are
scared out of their wits, and if this sort of thing is to happen
their courage will melt away.  There must be a secret entrance
somewhere.  To-morrow I'll search the place thoroughly again, though,
upon my word, we have been through it so often that I can't for the
life of me conceive where the rat's hole can be."

He gave the wounded man a sleeping-draught, did his best to calm the
fears of the rest, and remained on guard all night, in case another
alarm should create a panic.



CHAPTER XXI

A BLOW FOR LIBERTY

Challis grudged every day spent in training, lest the fort should be
stormed by the Tubus before he had come to the relief.  But he saw
clearly that only by training his little army would he have the
slightest chance of effecting a diversion in favour of the
beleaguered garrison.

The odds, in any case, were enormously against him.  But at the end
of the fifth day he had unexpected encouragement.  About nightfall,
just as John was lighting the bonfires, he caught sight of a crowd of
armed negroes rounding a hillock some distance away.

"Bad fellas coming, sah!" he shouted excitedly.

Challis blew a whistle he had shaped out of a piece of wood, and his
eighty men came pouring out of the cave, and formed up in something
resembling the line which he had been at such pains to teach.

They howled with disappointment at not receiving the order to attack
at once.  Challis got the chief to send one of his men forward to
hail the strangers and ask the meaning of their coming.

It turned out that they were the fighting men of a village about ten
miles off, nearly a hundred strong.  The story of the killing of the
lions had reached them, with the addition of all sorts of wonderful
details gathered in its course through the countryside.  They had
heard rumours also of the marvellous medicine which the white man was
preparing for the Tubus, and they desired to see these marvels for
themselves.

Their chief and the elders of the village had desired to take the
cautious part and remain aloof; but their counsels had been overborne
by the younger men, who had insisted on marching out to see the white
lion-killer and medicine man.

It was an opportunity too good to let slip.  In the ruddy light of
the bonfires, Challis put his men through their evolutions.

Spurred by the desire to impress the strangers, the men excelled
themselves.  The result was that the newcomers clamoured to be
allowed to join the forces of the great medicine man, and Challis
found himself stronger by nearly a hundred vigorous, able-bodied
young men.

The only drawback to this accession of strength was the necessity of
devoting more days to training.  Challis was so anxious about the
welfare of Royce and his little party that he sent a scout next day
to approach the neighbourhood of the fort and discover whether the
Tubus were still in position there.

He set to work at once with the new men, selecting forty to join his
spearmen and making pikemen of the rest.  These latter he posted as a
rear rank three feet behind the front rank, giving them spears three
feet longer.

The new men picked up the simple drill quickly, having models in the
original company.  But before Challis had time to perfect them, his
work was put to a sudden test.

In the intervals of training his men, he had made a point of studying
the surrounding country with an eye to its suitability for attacking
or defensive operations.

The cave was situated in a hilly, rocky district, difficult for
horsemen, but well adapted for defence against a mounted force.  The
side from which it could be most easily rushed was from the direction
of the nullah which had been the scene of his adventure with the
lions.

A little below the spot at which this incident had taken place the
nullah disappeared.  The stream which flowed through it in the rainy
season ran in a broad shallow channel, easily fordable, with a rocky
hill on one side and a practicable path along the dry margin of the
bed of the stream.

About two miles from the cave the rocky ground on the right of the
stream ended in a swamp, formed by overflowings of a little river
which Challis had satisfied himself was identical with the stream
that flowed past the base of the hillock on which the fort stood.
Into this river the shallow stream emptied itself.

On the right, at the angle formed by the junction of the two streams,
there was a low-lying patch of dry land, triangular in shape--an
island inclosed by streams and the swamp.  While this island was at
the present time dry, Challis had no doubt that it was submerged when
the streams were flooded by the rains.

Challis had considered the possibility of being attacked before he
was ready to move out towards the fort with his little army.  He
decided that such an attack, if it occurred, would most likely be
made from this direction, the ground being more level and open than
on any other side.  It was clear that the best point at which to meet
the attack would be where the swamp approached most closely to the
steep hill on the left.

Including the shallow bed of the stream, about fifty feet wide, there
were altogether about a hundred and fifty feet of firm dry land
between the swamp and the hillside, except for the stream, now little
more than a yard across.  Here his men could best make their stand.

Since his arrival at the cave, Challis had insisted on an elementary
precaution which it is the habit of negroes to neglect.  Every
morning at dawn he had sent out scouts in a southward direction, to
give notice if the enemy approached.  These men took sufficient food
for the day, and returned at nightfall.

He arranged that the line of scouts should extend for several miles
towards the enemy's country, each man posting himself within hailing
distance of the next.  By this means he ensured that he should
receive warning within a few seconds of the sighting of the enemy by
the remotest man.

On the sixth day after his arrival he had reason to be glad of his
forethought.  About noon the nearest scout ran in with the news that
a force of Tubus was approaching from the direction of the river.

A fact that somewhat surprised him was that their line of march would
bring them direct to the cave, not to the village whence the people
had migrated.  It seemed as if they had information of what was going
on.  Was it possible that there was a traitor in the camp?

With a little more experience of negro life he would have divined the
true explanation.  The story of his doings had spread for many miles
around, gaining in magnitude with every repetition.  Certain of the
neighbouring tribes purchased immunity from attack by spying for the
Tubus, and there was no doubt that some of these people had carried
to Goruba the report that a white man was making big medicine at the
cave.

But it was not at all likely that Goruba had any idea who the white
man was, unless he had already stormed the fort and discovered that
it contained one white man instead of two.  The probability was that
he was coming or had sent to test the truth of the story he had
heard.  The white man might be a missionary, unlikely to trouble him.

Challis, it must be confessed, felt very nervous.  His men were as
yet only partially trained; how would they behave if it came to a
fight?  Would they forget all that he had tried to teach them, and
either run away from their dreaded enemy, or rush forward in their
old disorderly manner, and fall an easy prey?  He looked forward to
the test with doubt and misgiving.

But he let no sign of his thoughts escape him.  Within three minutes
of the scout's arrival he had all his warriors ranged in double line.

"John," he said, "you will bring them along and down the hill after
me.  Be sure you do not let them break the line."

Then, jumping on his horse, he cantered along the bed of the nullah
to the point where he had already determined to make his stand.  One
of the scouts ran beside him.  On reaching the spot, he left his
horse with the scout and climbed the hill on the left to get a view
of the enemy.

It was some time before he was able to distinguish them.  When he
first caught sight of them they were picking their way very slowly
and cautiously along the bank of the river.  They numbered, as nearly
as he could guess, about three hundred men--a force which, mounted,
armed with rifles, and used to warfare, represented terrible odds
against fewer than two hundred raw levies, on foot, and without
firearms.

Small though their numbers were, however, and in spite of their
imperfect training, Challis had no reason to be dissatisfied with the
spirit of his men.  Before he regained the bottom of the hill the
whole of his force were already on the spot, so closely and eagerly
had they followed in his footsteps.  Their ranks were in better order
than he had expected, and he praised them warmly, hoping fervently
that their morale would stand the shock of the imminent conflict.

Losing no time, he drew them up in order of battle.  With the swamp
on his right and the hill on his left, there was no necessity to
protect his flanks.  Across the space between hill and swamp he
placed a hundred of his pikemen in two ranks of fifty each.  He had
still twenty pikemen--these he posted in reserve ten yards behind the
rear rank, to deal with any horsemen who might break through.  Of
these John was placed in charge.

Of the sixty spearmen, who had six spears apiece, he arranged that
thirty should advance in front of the line of pikes, cast their
spears, and run back within the lines for shelter.  The other thirty
he posted in the bushes fringing the hillside, with orders to remain
hidden until the leading ranks of the enemy had passed, and then to
assail the rear ranks with a fierce shower of spears.

And then, having placed his horse behind a tall bush, he stood, rifle
in hand, tense with anxiety, in the centre of the front rank of his
expectant men.

If at that moment he could have been spirited away to England, he
would have been glad.  He had no liking for the soldier's trade, but
here he was, here he must stand; if there was to be a fight, it was
for liberty and peace.

The enemy advanced slowly down the bed of the stream.  Not until
their front ranks turned the corner of the hill did they become aware
that opposition awaited them.  They then saw a line of men drawn
across the bed of the nullah on their right, with a white man in the
centre.

They drew rein for a moment to take stock of the little force opposed
to them.  Realising how small it was, they burst into mocking shouts
and charged.  Challis had hoped for nothing better, knowing that
spears were no match for firearms.

He blew his whistle.  Fifty more pikemen trooped out from the bushes
on the right, and formed a second line behind the first; twenty
ranged themselves in a third line.  Then, before the jeering horsemen
had covered half the distance between the two forces, they saw
themselves confronted by a triple line of bristling pikes, a kind of
obstacle to which they were unaccustomed.

But they did not check their charge.  Galloping on with furious
shouts, they were within a hundred yards of the pikemen when a flight
of spears from their left hurtled among their ranks.  Carried on by
their impetus, the horsemen dashed upon the pikes outstretched across
their front.  In some cases the riders, in others the unfortunate
horses, were the victims.

Some penetrated the first line and the second, only to find still a
third awaiting them.  Meanwhile their comrades in the rear had been
assailed by another shower of spears, and, led by Challis, the
pikemen whose weapons had not been broken by the charge pressed
forward on the now wavering ranks.

Then the thirty spearmen on the hill came into action, darting out
upon the rear of the Tubus, hurling their spears, and following up
with a charge.  Assailed in front, flank, and rear, the Tubus lost
heart, pulled their horses round, and galloped away in the only open
direction, towards the stream.

Crowding one upon another in their haste, many of them urged their
horses on to the swamp, unaware of its treacherous surface until the
animals began to sink.  Then the men sprang from the saddles in
fright, abandoned horses, arms, food, and rushed headlong away, to
escape the spears of their pursuers.

It was just at the moment when the flight began that the victors
temporarily lost their leader.  As one of the Tubus was wheeling his
horse, he dealt a sweeping cut with his scimitar at the pikeman
standing next to Challis in the line.  Challis threw up his rifle and
intercepted the blow, which drove a deep dent into the barrel.  The
force of the impact caused him to stagger against the horse's flank;
he was thrown to the ground, and the horse, galloping off, dealt him
a kick with one of its hind hoofs.  His pith helmet was flattened on
his head.  It saved his life, but he lay stunned where he fell.

When he came to himself, he found John bending over him, with a score
of the negroes in a silent, anxious group behind.

"Where are they?" were his first words.

The negroes shouted with joy when they saw that the man who had
taught them "medicine" was still alive.  John pointed to the swamp.

"Ober dere, sah," he said.  "Bad fellas all gone smash."

Challis raised himself on his elbow.  He saw struggling horses,
dismounted Tubus, some fleeing over strips of firm ground, others
plunging deeper into the morass, with the victorious negroes swarming
around them.

"Enough!" cried Challis, anxious to avoid slaughter now that his
object was achieved.

He blew a shrill blast on his whistle.  Most of the men turned and
came hastening towards him.

"Bring off the rest, John," he said.  "They are not to fight any
more.  Get ropes and save the wretches who are sinking in the bog."

The fighting ceased.  Some of the negroes took ropes, hurled them
towards the struggling Tubus, and hauled them to dry land.  The
prisoners expected to be butchered, the rescuers to be ordered to
slay them.  Both were equally surprised when John, at Challis's
command, shouted that the Tubus were to be spared.  The negroes could
not understand why mercy should be shown to a merciless enemy, but
Challis saw gladly that they obeyed him.

"Take them near the cave, and set a guard over them," he said.  "We
will teach them another sort of medicine."

Rising painfully, he surveyed the field.  Some sixty Tubus would hunt
no more slaves, burn no more villages.  Many horses had been
captured, together with swords, firearms of various kinds, and
ammunition.  The victory had been won at small cost.

Challis ordered that the wounded Tubus should be treated exactly like
those of his own force.  Then, feeling sick and dizzy, but proud of
his men, and rejoicing in the success of his first blow for liberty,
he went back to the cave, amid lusty shouts from the warriors and
shrill cries from the women and children.



CHAPTER XXII

THE DISCOVERY OF RABEH'S HOARD

Royce spent several hours of the night of his discovery of Goruba's
second entry in cudgelling his brains over his new problem.

Twice had Goruba made his way into the fort; twice had he escaped.
Yet on neither occasion had anyone seen him on the ramparts, nor had
anyone seen him in the interior except Challis and the man who had
now been wounded.

What puzzled Royce almost as much as the secret of Goruba's means of
entry and of exit was the fact that he seemed to make no use of it.
Being able to get in and out without being observed, why did he not
make use of his power, and lead his followers into the fort?

"I wish Tom were here!" thought Royce.  "I feel like Robinson Crusoe
before he had Friday to talk to.  John is the only Hausa at all equal
to Friday.  I almost wish they had not gone."

Next morning he set the men again to work on the ditch, and went
through the fort from corner to corner, searching for some secret
passage.  The gaps in the walls had all been filled up.  The stone
slabs of the floor all seemed to be solid; none of them gave forth a
hollow sound when he stamped on them.  At the bottom of the well the
spring bubbled constantly, the overflow passing away through a narrow
slit through which a rabbit could hardly have crawled.

"It beats me altogether," he said to himself after his thorough
survey.

He walked round inside the wall to see how the men were getting on
with the ditch, and came to the foot or two of brickwork which had
been uncovered.

"I wonder!" he exclaimed, as a sudden thought struck him.  "Gambaru,
fetch me the spade."

When the man returned, Royce began to dig away the earth on each side
of the brickwork, which was itself too hard and to firmly imbedded to
be cut into or prised up by the only tools he possessed.

He found, after some little time, that the brick-work was about four
feet wide and very deep, and that it extended inwards.  Dropping the
spade, he walked into the fort in the same straight line as the
brickwork.

"This may be the clue," he thought with some excitement.  "At any
rate, I must see."

The direction of his walk led him straight to the well.

"A false scent," he said to himself, more puzzled than ever.

He went back to the ditch, to make sure that he had not been mistaken
in his course.  No; there was no doubt, about it; he felt sure that
if he uncovered the brickwork completely it would end at or near the
wall of the well.

Just as he was beginning to dig again, another idea occurred to him.

"It would take me a couple of hours to clear all the earth away," he
thought.  "Perhaps it would be waste labour.  I'll have another look
at the well."

He returned, Gambaru following, much puzzled at his master's strange
proceedings.

Standing on the brink, he peered down into the well, which was wide
and fairly light.  He had seen nothing extraordinary about it when he
supervised the clearing out of the rubbish; there was nothing
extraordinary about it now.

In the walls there were rusty iron staples, intended as footholds,
and so used by the men.  He descended, examining the walls and the
staples; there was nothing strange about them.

"The brickwork is just about six feet below the surface," he thought.
"I'll measure the same distance here."

At a little more than his own height below the ground he scrutinised
the masonry carefully.  There were slight clefts where the separate
stones met, but nothing unusual in their appearance.  He pushed and
strained at the stonework, without effect.

Then he noticed, just within arm's reach to his right, a staple quite
out of line with the rest.  It seemed to have been fixed in the wall
without purpose.  Leaning over, he pulled at it, at first cautiously,
then more and more vigorously.

[Illustration: GAMBARU IS AMAZED]

Suddenly he felt a shock of surprise.  Was the staple moving, or was
he himself?  He planted his foot firmly on the staple on which he was
standing, and still pulled.  There was no doubt about it; he was
slowly swinging round.  The huge slab of stone against which he was
supporting himself had moved inwards on his right, outwards on his
left, and he was turning with it.

Now thoroughly excited, he tugged steadily, and in a few moments
found himself looking into a dark aperture in the wall.

"Eureka!" he exclaimed joyfully, and Gambaru, leaning over the brink
of the well above, gasped with terrified amazement as he saw his
master disappearing.

"A candle!" shouted Royce.

The Hausa sprinted away, and returned with the whole garrison at his
heels.

"Back to your places, you idiots!" cried Royce.  "Kulana, keep them
at their posts.  Give me the candle, Gambaru."

Holding the lighted candle, he stepped from the staple into a low
dark passage, and groped his way stoopingly along it.  For some forty
or fifty yards it was narrow; then all at once it opened into a huge
natural cavern, warm and stuffy, with an earthy smell.

Royce looked about him and gasped with astonishment.  The candlelight
fell on an enormous store of elephants' tusks, huge and massive
objects ranged in close-packed rows, and filling nearly three parts
of the cavern.

"My word!  What a find!" Royce exclaimed.

He began to count the tusks, came to a hundred, and gave it up.

"Five hundred, at a guess," he thought.  "They must be worth a
fortune.  No wonder Mr. Goruba wanted to strangle me! ... What's that
yonder?"

He went farther into the cavern.  Beyond the tusks lay an assortment
of many things--ivory cups, vessels of gold, an old French musket,
swords, scimitars, a kepi or two, a French officer's sash, some
cartridge cases, several native spades and pickaxes--and, at the far
end, objects which caused him to recoil.  They were human skeletons.

At this gruesome sight Royce felt that he had had enough for the
moment.  The air was stifling, rendered still worse by the smoky
candle.  He retraced his steps, stood firmly on the staple in the
slab, and this time pushing at the other staple, caused the stone to
revolve on its pivot and set flush with the wall.

"What does it all mean?" he thought, as he sat in his room above,
eating the frugal dinner which Kulana brought him.

He remembered what the old chief had told him about Goruba--that he
had been lieutenant of Rabeh, the extraordinary negro who had risen
from the position of a slave to the lordship of a great territory in
the Sahara, tyrannised over the natives, and long defied the efforts
of the French to put him down.

Was this secret hoard of wealth Rabeh's?  Had he stored it in this
cavern in the side of the hill, hoping some day, when he had defeated
the French, to dispose of it?

"That must be the explanation," Royce concluded.  "I don't know
anything about the ivory trade, but those tusks must be of immense
value, and must have represented a vast fortune even to a potentate
like Rabeh.  I suppose he let Goruba into the secret.  When he was
killed and his empire broken up, Goruba was for years a fugitive, the
old man said.  But he was ambitious, like his master.  He always
meant to get hold of this treasure.  What Rabeh had done, he thought
he could do.  No doubt he joined the Tubus because their country is
near this fort, and has gradually made himself a power with them.
That's why he comes on his lonely visits--to see that Rabeh's hoard
is safe.  I don't suppose the Tubus know anything about it.  It
wouldn't suit his plans to inform them until he has made himself
their absolute master."

Then his thoughts turned in another direction.

"How many villages were sacked, how many thousands of poor wretches
were killed or enslaved in the gathering of this hoard?  And Goruba
is like his master in that, too--he is the same blood-thirsty tyrant
and oppressor.  But, please God, Tom will give him a shake.

"Ah! those skeletons--how did they come there?"

He pondered for a time without arriving at a conclusion.

"I see!" he said to himself at last.  "They are the skeletons of the
poor slaves who dug the passage Rabeh killed them to preserve his
secret.  Horrible! ... But I haven't discovered everything yet.
Where is the entrance at the other end, by which Goruba reaches the
cavern?  I must go again--but not to-day.  I can't face those
skeletons again to-day; to-morrow, perhaps."



CHAPTER XXIII

GORUBA IS CAUGHT

On the morning after his discovery of Rabeh's hoard, Royce made a
second visit to the cave to search for the exit which he felt sure
must lead to the outer air.

Carrying a lighted candle, he walked slowly round the walls,
examining them carefully.  They appeared to be in their natural
state--rough, irregular, knobby, but with no hole or gap large enough
to admit a man.

Then he tried the floor.  It consisted of slabs of stone.  He tapped
them here and there, but they gave no hollow ring; apparently they
were solid.  The ivory tusks were ranged in such orderly rows that it
seemed hardly likely the entrance was beneath them.

Puzzling over what to do next, he suddenly thought of testing the
place with the candle flame.  If there were an opening, there must be
a current of air.  He returned to the slab in the wall of the well
and closed it as tightly as was possible from the inside; then placed
the candle at several spots on the floor of the cave, one after
another, and, retiring to a distance, watched the flame for signs of
flickering.

But he had no success; the flame only flickered in the current caused
by his own movements.

"Where can the entrance be?" he said to himself.  "The air is stuffy,
but not foul.  I'll try the passage."

He tapped the wall on each side; no sound rewarded him.  Then he
placed the candle on the floor near the threshold of the cave, and
ejaculated "Got it!" when he saw the flame flicker gently.  Hastening
to the spot, he knelt down and passed his hand slowly over the slabs,
and felt a distinct though slight draught at the seam between two of
them.

He pushed at each of the slabs.  They did not move.  He got up, and
jumped on them as forcibly as the low roof allowed, still without
effect.  Then, lifting the candle, he examined the walls.

At his left hand, near the roof, was a single staple, like those in
the wall of the well.  It could not be intended for climbing--what,
then, was the use of it?  Standing under it, he grasped it and
pulled.  It did not yield.  Then he pushed, more and more forcibly.
The staple did not move, but he fancied that the slab on which he was
standing sank a little.

Looking down, he saw, just below the floor, a narrow jutting ledge of
rock.  With his left foot on this, he pushed at the slab with his
right, still shoving at the staple with his hand.  The stone began to
revolve, slowly, with a slight grinding sound.  Presently it stood
upright in the middle of the passage, and moved no more.

Royce now saw beneath him half a dozen steep steps leading down into
gloom.  He descended carefully, lighting his way with the candle, and
found himself in a passage, narrower than the upper one, but much
cooler and less stuffy.  From the direction of the cave there was a
steady draught.

Moving against it, Royce, after about fifty paces, caught sight of a
glint of light ahead.  He pressed on eagerly, and discovered that the
passage ended in an opening roughly circular in shape, about a yard
in diameter.  Passing on, he came out into a tangle of brushwood
through which he saw trees.  He forced his way forward, and stood in
a clump of woodland.  There was nobody to be seen, no sound.  He
stole cautiously among the trees until he came to the edge of the
clump.  It looked over open country.  Glancing round, taking care to
keep hidden from observation, he saw at last the fort, on the hill
about two hundred yards away.

"This must be the clump we noticed," he thought.  "Now I understand
why Goruba has not used it for cover in attacking us.  He doesn't
want any of his men to discover the secret entrance to his hoard.  Of
course, with the slab down they couldn't find the hoard itself, but
evidently he doesn't mean to be bothered with inconvenient questions.
Well, Mr. Goruba, I have caught you out.  I only wish I could catch
_you_."

Royce made his way back quickly, feeling that he was perhaps risking
a good deal in leaving the men so long.  He carefully replaced the
two slabs, ascended the wall of the well, much to Kulana's relief,
and, having assured himself that the garrison were at their posts and
that the enemy had made no move, he sat down to devise a trap for
Goruba.

"I suppose the fellow will come again," he thought.  "Why does he
come at all?  A visit to the cave and no farther would prove that his
treasure is safe.  I suppose his idea in penetrating right into the
fort is to spy, perhaps to frighten the men into deserting me.  I
mean to stop your little game, my man."

His first notion was to place a couple of sentries in the cave, to
catch Goruba on his next appearance.  In the darkness the giant would
not see them.  But he soon gave that up.  It would probably be better
not to let the men know anything about the cave for the present.
Besides, he could not tell when Goruba would pay his next visit, and
the superstitious negroes would never endure a long wait in the dark.

After long puzzling, Royce hit on a plan that seemed likely to be
successful.  He attached a thin cord to the slab in the well, at a
point where it would not be seen in the semi-darkness by any one
entering from the passage.

Carrying the cord round the well, he passed it through hooks of his
own devising--nails driven into the brickwork and bent almost double.
At the top he fastened similar hooks to the wall of the well-yard,
near the floor, drew the cord through them, and finally tied it to
the topmost of a short column of empty meat tins in his own room.

When this was done, he went down to the well again, turned the slab
gently on its axis, and in a moment or two heard a slight clatter as
the tins were overturned.

"I call that a stroke of genius," he said to himself.  "The question
is, will the sound scare Goruba away?  He is bound to hear it, though
it is not so loud as I expected.  But, after all, there is nothing to
make him connect the sound with his own movements, so I fancy there
will be a little surprise in store for him."

At dusk that evening he sat in his room, watching the pile of tins,
and waiting eagerly for the alarm signal.  But it did not come.  All
night he remained awake, unable to sleep from excitement.  Not a
sound broke the stillness.

Next evening he took up his post at the same time.  Tired and sleepy,
he was just falling into a doze when the tins fell with a crash that
made him jump.

Pulling off his boots, he slipped very quietly into the well-yard and
stooped below the top of the wall.  He knew that he was in plenty of
time, for the intruder was sure to move slowly and with caution.

With his electric torch in his left hand and his revolver in his
right, he passed round to the side of the well opposite to where the
staples were placed.  In a few seconds he heard a slight rustle; the
man was climbing over the coping of the well.  He saw his form, a
huge black shape against the dark blue sky.

The man stood listening for a moment, then crept towards the doorway
leading to Royce's quarters.  Royce stole on tiptoe after him, and
just as he reached the opening pressed the button of the torch.  The
negro turned instantly, and the bright ray from the torch flashed
upon the startled eyes of Goruba.

Royce had expected astonishment, even dismay.  He was not prepared
for the extraordinary readiness, decision, presence of mind with
which the negro would act.  Without an instant's hesitation, Goruba
sprang at him with uplifted knife.  Royce fired, but either he missed
or there was no stopping power in the bullet, for in another fraction
of a second he was hurled back towards the well, narrowly escaping
toppling over the coping into its depths.

But if Royce missed, so did Goruba, dazzled, perhaps, by the light of
his torch.  His knife crashed on the coping, and was shivered to
pieces.  Next moment Royce found himself for the second time locked
in the giant's embrace.

Exerting all his strength, he strove to prevent the negro from
hurling him into the well.  He shouted.  Answering shouts came from
the men.  And then he discovered, to his surprise, that Goruba was
not so formidable an antagonist as when they had first met.  His grip
was not so firm; all the pressure came from his left arm.

Encouraged by this, Royce grappled him closely, tried a back-throw he
had learnt in jiu-jitsu, and had Goruba on his back as the Hausas,
headed by Kulana, came shouting into the yard.

Royce was only just in time to prevent them from plunging their
knives into the struggling negro.  At his order, they tied him up
with cords, so tightly that he howled with pain.

"Loosen them!" cried Royce.  "Don't hurt him."

Kulana stared.

"Him hurt massa," he protested.  "Him fit for kill all same."

"No; that's not our way," said Royce firmly.  "We've got him, and
we'll keep him safe.  I hope this is the end of our troubles."

The Hausas, grumbling sullenly, carried Goruba into the passage next
to Royce's room, and laid him against the wall.  It was then found
that his right wrist was sprained.

"He must have struck it against the wall when he missed me and
smashed his knife," thought Royce.  "That accounts for his feebler
grip."

To the further disgust of his men, he bound a wet rag tightly round
Goruba's wrist.

"Now for a good night's rest for once," he thought.  "We shall not be
attacked to-night, at any rate."



CHAPTER XXIV

A FIGHT WITH CROCODILES

In the afternoon after the fight with the Tubus, Challis was
reclining on a moss-covered rock near the cave--he could not endure
the atmosphere of that close-packed habitation.

He was thinking things over, wondering whether, after his first
victory, he dared lead his men towards the fort to encounter the main
body of the enemy under their redoubtable leader Goruba.

Suddenly he was aware of some excitement among the crowd of natives
just beyond the mouth of the cave.  Could the Tubus be returning to
the attack?

He sprang up, intending to reassure himself on this point.  But at
this moment John came running towards him, his broad face contorted
by a grin.

"What is it, John?" Challis asked.

To his surprise John burst into loud laughter, slapping his thighs,
bending his body, now and then pointing towards the swamp and
doubling with laughter again.

"Come, come, what is the joke?" asked Challis.

"Oh, my!  Oh, dear!  Oh my lawks!" spluttered the Hausa.  "Ober dar,
sah, ober dar."

"Well?  Stop laughing, and tell me about it."

John controlled himself with difficulty.

"Ober dar, sah, two bad fellas!"  A guffaw.  "Tubus, sah.  Up a tree,
sah."

"There's nothing very funny about that."

"No funny?  Oh my lawks!  Up a tree, sah--no come down.  Boys frow
spears, sah.  Berry funny, all same."

"This won't do," thought Challis.  "I suppose the Tubus got away, and
the men are trying to spear them instead of taking them prisoners.
But it's strange.  There was plenty of time for them to escape
altogether when I called the men off.  Why didn't they run away?" he
asked.

"No can do, sah," replied John, laughing again.  "Crocodiles wait for
dinner."

"Goodness!" Challis ejaculated.  "Are there crocodiles in the swamp?"

"Oh yes, sah! fousand hundred," answered John.  "Sah come and see.
Him laugh all same."

He preceded Challis towards the swamp, to which the whole population
of the cave were now flocking like children running to see a Punch
and Judy show.

Challis hurried on.  Arriving at the edge of the swamp he saw, about
two hundred yards away, two Tubus crouched in the branches of a low
bushy tree, not five feet above the surface.

A number of the spearmen had gone forward as far as they dared on the
spongy ground, and were gleefully hurling their spears at the
negroes.  The range was too long, however; the weapons fell short,
and splashed into the water.

And then Challis saw that for some distance around the tree the swamp
was almost like a lake.  The water was evidently several feet deep.
And the terrified Tubus, clinging to the branches of the tree, were
gazing with horror at the snouts of half a dozen crocodiles which
formed a half circle projecting a few inches above the surface.

Challis was almost as much horrified as the Tubus themselves.  He
knew the cunning and treacherous nature of the hideous beasts.  He
knew that usually they came upon their prey by stealth.  It was a
surprise to him to find that they were bold enough to attack men
openly.

It was clear that the hapless negroes were hopelessly imprisoned.  In
the tree they were safe, but they could not descend and attempt to
swim away without the certainty of falling victims.  And the cave
dwellers crowding at the edge of the swamp laughed with delight at
their enemies' plight and, yelled with disappointment when the
weapons of the spearmen fell short.

"Stop that!" cried Challis to John.  "Tell them I am very angry with
them for wasting their spears."

John shouted to the men, who shamefacedly drew back.  They felt no
shame at trying to kill a helpless enemy, but dreaded the wrath of
the white medicine man.

"I must save the wretches," thought Challis.  He meant to break the
power of the Tubus if he could, for the sake of all the natives of
the district; but he could not stand by and see two helpless men
swallowed by these slimy monsters.

It was clear that they could not save themselves.  The hungry
crocodile is pertinacious; he will not leave his expected prey.  Some
time or other the men would fall off the tree from sheer terror or
weakness into the very jaws of the reptiles.

Challis gazed across the swamp.  The people, seeing that he did not
share their merriment, fell silent, and watched him curiously.

The swamp was covered in patches with aquaceous plants; there was no
other tree except that in which the negroes had taken refuge.  It
would be useless to fire at the reptiles.  Only the tips of their
snouts were visible; Challis could not be sure of hitting a
vulnerable part.  He tried a shot, but, as he expected, it had no
other effect than to startle the crocodiles for a moment; the next,
when the sound had died away, their snouts bobbed up again.

On the hillside behind the cave there grew a few small trees.

"John," said Challis suddenly, "take some men up the hill, cut down a
dozen strong young trees, strip off the leaves, and bring the trunks
here as quickly as you can, with plenty of creepers."

John started off with a band of men.  The rest, excited at the
prospect of seeing more big medicine, chattered noisily.

When the men returned, Challis set them to lash the saplings together
with the creepers to form a raft.  In half an hour it was completed.
At his order they carried it to the verge of the yielding ground.
The crowd, having an inkling of his purpose, shouted with delight.
The white man, they thought, was going to bring back the Tubus to be
slaughtered.

It was difficult to launch the raft from the soft boggy ground.  The
men shrank from entering the water.  John explained that crocodiles
had been known to snap up a man from the midst of a large party.  To
reassure them, Challis ordered some of the spearmen to stand by, and
watch for the beasts while their comrades hauled the raft into the
water.

When it was at last afloat, he wanted four men to paddle it.  But
when John selected four strong fellows and told them what they were
to do, they yelled with fright, and fled back among the crowd.

"Well, we must do it ourselves," said Challis.

"All same, sah," said John.

But Challis noticed that he looked very uneasy.  Only the desire to
"show off" before the people prevailed over his fear.

The two got upon the raft, and standing well in the centre, poled out
with saplings across the thick weedy water.  Challis felt somewhat
anxious himself when he realised how frail and crazy was this rapidly
made raft.  And they had only gone about fifty yards from the shore
when he got some notion of the nature of the adventure on which he
had embarked.

Almost without a ripple on the surface a snout emerged from the water
a few yards ahead of them.  In another moment a second and yet a
third appeared.  Then more came on each side and behind.  The swamp
seemed to be swarming with the reptiles.

Challis tried another shot.  The snouts instantly disappeared,
emerging again, however, after a few seconds, at a little greater
distance.  Whether Challis had killed one he did not know.

He was taking aim for a third shot when the raft, neglected by John,
intent on watching his master, lurched against a half submerged bank
of weed.  Challis staggered, and in catching at John to steady
himself, dropped his rifle, which struck the side of the raft and
fell into the water with a big splash.

"Never mind," said Challis, trying cheerfully to hide his annoyance.
"They can't get to us on the raft."

Coming into deeper water, they used the saplings as paddles.  The
crocodiles kept at a greater distance, but they followed the raft,
swimming slowly and quite noiselessly after it as it crept towards
the tree.

Challis felt the presence of this escort not a little disconcerting.
He was not scared, but uncomfortable.  He thought of driving off the
reptiles by shouting; it was quite an effort to find his voice.  When
he shouted and splashed with his paddle there was a momentary
scattering and disappearance of the snouts; but as soon as he left
off, they came up behind and around the raft again.

He was heartily glad when at last they reached the tree.

"Tell the Tubus to come down," he said to John.

The Hausa jabbered to the men in the tree; they neither moved nor
answered.  He shouted to them again, still without effect.

"Plenty silly chaps," he said scornfully.

"Perhaps they think we shall kill them," said Challis.  "Tell them we
have come to save them."

It required a great deal of eloquence on John's part before the
negroes were convinced that the white man wished to save, not to take
their lives.  Even then they hesitated from fear of the crocodiles.
To encourage them John beat the water noisily with his paddle, all
the time abusing them as "silly chaps."

At last they lowered themselves cautiously from the branches and
stood clinging to each other in the centre of the raft.  The
crocodiles hovering round seemed to be conscious that their prey was
escaping them, or, as Challis thought, felt that their dinner was
assured, for they made a sudden dash at the raft.  Some of them got
their snouts over the edge, and while Challis and John belaboured
them with their paddles, the Tubus fell on their knees and crouched
howling.

The crocodiles sank into the water, and Challis and his man began to
paddle shoreward with all their energy.  But soon the reptiles,
finding that they were none the worse for their battering, the blows
of the paddles being but flicks on their tough hides, returned to the
attack.

This time the danger was more serious.  The slight raft rocked about
and dipped at the rear as Challis and John smote desperately with
their poles at the crocodiles, some of which had pushed their snouts
and forelegs over the edge.  The Tubus, who might have maintained the
balance by going to the other end, cowered and howled in the middle.

Challis and his man had to withdraw from the edge in order to avoid
being capsized, and the reptiles scrambled farther on.  John's pole
snapped on the back of the foremost, but he thrust the splintered end
into the monster's eye.  At the same moment Challis plunged his pole
down the throat of another.  The two strokes were almost too
effective.  The crocodiles slid back into the water, and Challis had
only just time to spring forward and prevent the raft from
overturning.

[Illustration: THE FIGHT WITH THE CROCODILES]

There was a brief breathing space.  The monsters had disappeared.
But the raft was stationary, and the poles were gone.  It was
impossible to propel it farther except by paddling with their hands.
They were beginning to do this, Challis on one side, John on the
other, when both started back simultaneously as the hideous snouts
once more rose above the surface.

The scene had been watched with growing excitement by the crowd on
shore.  Realising the peril of the situation, some of the men began
to hurl spears at the reptiles, which were again closing in behind
the raft.  This was more dangerous to the men than to the crocodiles.
One of the spears fell on the raft.  Challis snatched it up, telling
John to order the men to cease throwing.

Three more of the monsters were now scrambling up, and under their
pressure the raft moved towards the shore.  Challis jabbed his spear
at their eyes and gaping mouths.  He disposed of them one after
another.  But his victory brought catastrophe.  The third flopped off
so suddenly that before Challis could step forward the raft tipped
up, and all four men were thrown into the water.

The Tubus yelled, John shouted, the people on shore shrieked.
Challis felt that all was over.  Against these reptiles in their own
element he could do nothing.  He could only swim for it.

"Splash with your legs!" he cried to John, who, like the Tubus, was
already striking out vigorously for land, now only fifty yards away.

The spearmen, aghast at the plight of their white chief, forgot their
fears and dashed into the shallower water to save him, the crowd
behind them yelling frantically.  The tremendous splash, the din and
clamour scared even the monsters.  They sheered off and sank beneath
the surface.

In a few moments Challis, slimy with weeds and green with ooze, was
dragged up by his jubilant followers.  John and the Tubus scrambled
on shore unassisted.  The crowd made a dash for the latter, but
Challis sternly called them off, ordering John to look after them as
prisoners of war.  And then they all marched back to the cave, the
people shouting and laughing with joy, though Challis felt by no
means like a conqueror.



CHAPTER XXV

CHARGED BY RHINOCEROSES

On the day after the fight by the swamp, while Challis was exercising
his men, some of the boys whom he had turned into scouts ran in with
the news that a band of fifty or more armed negroes was approaching
from the south-west.

Challis hoped that he would not have to engage a new enemy.  Giving
John orders to watch the newcomers, he went on with his work.  By and
by, out of the tail of his eye, he saw John talking to a group of
strangers, who looked on at the drilling with the interest and
curiosity of children.

It was plain that the newcomers were friends, and that John, with
much self-importance, was eloquently expounding the virtues of white
man's medicine.

When the drilling was over, John announced that the strangers had
heard in their village, several miles away, of the defeat of the
Tubus, and had come to see the white man who had punished them.  He
further explained that the negroes wished to join the forces, and
learn how to march, advance, spin round, and use pikes like them.

While John was speaking, the scouts signalled the approach of a
smaller band.  Shortly afterwards, to Challis's amazement, a third
party was announced.

It was a striking proof of the extraordinary rapidity with which news
spreads in the wilds of Africa.  Before the day closed, two or three
hundred men had arrived from widely scattered villages, all eager to
see the white man, and to learn something of his magic.

They were armed for the most part with spears.  Challis saw in them
the making of a very respectable army; but it was clear that, if
Royce were to be relieved, there would not be time to give them even
the very slight training of the earlier recruits.  He did not,
however, reject them.  They would help to make a good show, and might
come in useful, if not to achieve a victory, possibly to follow it up.

Before the night was over he had reason to doubt the wisdom of his
decision.  The new men belonged to different tribes, and were
inclined to quarrel among themselves.  Challis ordered John to
quarter the various parties separately in the neighbourhood of the
cave, hoping that by keeping them apart he would prevent disturbance.

But a new trouble arose.  One of the bands got up a war dance around
their camp fire, and worked themselves up to a fury of excitement.
Then, having learnt the whereabouts of the Tubu prisoners, they made
a rush towards them, and Challis was only just in time to prevent a
wholesale massacre.

The ringleader, who had fairly lost his head, threw a spear at the
Tubus in spite of Challis's stern command.  It was clear that a
lesson was needed.  Challis doubled his fists, and with two
well-planted blows, left and right, sent the man spinning.

"Tie him up," he said to John, "and keep a guard over him for the
rest of the night.  To-morrow I shall send him back to his village.
These people must understand that they must do as they are told."

The fall of their leader sobered the rest of the band.  They felt a
great respect for the white man's fists, and remained peaceful until
morning broke.  Challis was sitting alone, waiting for John to bring
his breakfast.  When the Hausa came up, he was followed by a group of
the negroes, looking anxious and sheepish.

"Silly fellas, sah," said John with a grin.  "Dey say Umgabaloo berry
fine fella, sah.  No want him to go back."

"Oh!  He's sorry for himself, perhaps; wants me to forgive him."

"Dat's him, sah.  Just a silly chap.  No savvy good things like me;
no savvy sah knock him down."

Challis could not help smiling at John's notion of "good things."  He
reflected.  It was said that negroes respected nothing but force;
that they took forgiveness as a sign of weakness.  Would it be wise
to pardon this Umgabaloo, who seemed popular with his friends?

"I'll risk it," he thought.  "Bring Umgabaloo to me," he said.

John fetched the negro, marched him up, and stood him before Challis,
keeping his hand on the man's neck.  Umgabaloo looked very
crestfallen.

"Tell him that he's no good to me unless he can do what he is told,"
said Challis.

John translated this with forcible additions.

"Tell him I'll let him off this time if he'll promise to obey,"
Challis went on.

When John made this announcement, Umgabaloo's friends shouted, and
the man himself tried to move forward, but was brought up by John's
determined grip.

"Does he promise?" asked Challis.

"Him say, Sah him father and mother," said John, "do eberyfing what
Sah say."

"Very well; let him go."

Umgabaloo, released, threw himself at Challis's feet and poured out a
torrent of thanks and protestations.

"I wonder if I've done right," thought Challis, as he dismissed the
man.

He had decided to make a start for the fort that day, while the
impression made on the enemy was fresh.  At his orders, every man
loaded himself with four days' provisions from the ample stores in
the cave.  Then he drew up in column the men whom he had already led
to victory, and the newcomers tried to arrange themselves in similar
formation behind, but were too much excited to be very successful.

Challis had now between three and four hundred men at his command.
They were still largely outnumbered by the Tubus; and what was of
still more consequence, they were not so well armed.  In the recent
encounter he had been able to choose a good tactical position; such a
chance was not likely to occur again.  No doubt, moreover, the Tubus,
warned by their defeat, would move more cautiously, and, being
mounted, they would take advantage of their mobility to fight on
ground of their own choice.

These considerations, and the desire to avoid bloodshed, influenced
Challis's plan.  His object was to reach the neighbourhood of the
fort unobserved, to communicate with Royce, and if possible to secure
a peaceful withdrawal.  He therefore decided not to follow either the
route by which he had come, or that taken by the Tubus when they made
their ill-fated attack.

As his orderly, John had distributed among the best of the men the
rifles and ammunition captured from the Tubus.  But Challis commanded
them on no account to use these weapons without orders.  No warning
must be given to any Tubus who might be scouting along the route.

All being ready, he went to the head of the column with a man who
knew the country well and would act as guide.  Then the whole party
set off in a north-westerly direction, to skirt the swamp and cross
the river some distance to the west.

The first stage of the march was very difficult.  The negro knew
paths across the swamp which a stranger could hardly have discovered,
but even so progress was slow and laborious.  The men had to go in
single file, sometimes over boggy land close to the water's edge,
keeping a wary eye for crocodiles; sometimes through rushes as tall
as their heads, from the midst of which they disturbed game of all
kinds, birds and beasts.

They had been some two or three hours on the march, and had got round
to the far side of the swamp, where the ground was drier and firmer,
when Challis saw the guide, some few yards ahead, suddenly halt and
make signs to him to be cautious.

Wondering if the Tubus were in sight, Challis halted the column,
ordering the men to be silent, and walked warily forward.  When he
came up with the guide, the latter pointed to the path about a
hundred yards in front.  And there Challis saw, not Tubus, but two
enormous square-mouthed rhinoceroses, lying in the mud right across
the path.

At the moment he caught sight of them the great beasts scrambled to
their feet, turned their heads in his direction, and snorted.  They
had evidently scented him.

Knowing that the rhinoceros is usually a timid and inoffensive
creature, living on herbs, and not a flesh-eater like the lion,
Challis expected the beasts to sheer off.  But these animals, like
other denizens of the wilds, are sometimes driven into hostility and
aggression by alarm.

There was a moment of suspense.  Then the rhinoceroses raised their
blunt-horned heads, snorted again, and came at a lumbering charge
straight for the head of the column.  The guide shouted and threw his
spear, which glanced off the tough hide of the first, then he uttered
a yell and bolted.

Challis had only an instant for making up his mind what to do.  On
one side of the path was yielding bog, on the other was drier ground,
dotted with bushes.  The path itself was blocked by the halted
column.  He dared not use his rifle, for fear of giving warning to
the enemy.  The leading rhinoceros was charging straight towards him.
The only chance of safety was to run.

He turned and sprinted across the open ground.  The rhinoceros,
infuriated by the guide's spear, swerved off the path and followed
him.  Its companion headed straight along the path.

In a few seconds Challis found that the beast, in spite of its size
and unwieldiness, was gaining upon him.  He darted aside when it was
close behind him, expecting that it would continue in its half-blind
charge.  To his alarm it struck off almost immediately in his
direction.

There was no friendly tree in sight.  The rhinoceros broke through
the bushes as if they were cobwebs.  Challis dodged, first on one
side, then on the other, but the beast showed an alarming nimbleness.
More than once Challis escaped its formidable horn only by inches.

[Illustration: THE RHINOCEROS IN PURSUIT]

Running on in desperation he stumbled, and had given himself up for
lost when he was conscious of a diversion.  A dark form, running with
extraordinary speed, dashed obliquely towards him, and buried a spear
deep in the animals' side.  It turned savagely to deal with this new
assailant, who had darted off at an angle.  For a few yards the
rhinoceros followed him, then it staggered, made a vain effort to
recover itself, and fell a huge heap upon the ground.

The negro rushed back, plucked out his spear, and driving it again
into the quivering beast dealt it a death-blow.  Challis went up to
him.  Umgabaloo fell on his knees.

"I was right," thought Challis, glowing with pleasure.  "Any one who
says that the negro knows no gratitude lies."

Meanwhile the column had scattered far and wide to escape the second
rhinoceros, which had apparently taken fright at the number of men,
and had now disappeared.  It was an hour before the negroes were
collected and the march resumed.



CHAPTER XXVI

DISASTER

The capture of Goruba cheered the whole garrison of the fort.
Curiously enough, it was rather as the evening visitor who disturbed
them than as the leader of the besiegers that the negroes regarded
him.  No longer would they be worried by the mysterious intruder.

Kulana had, of course, told them about the hole in the wall of the
well.  They were eager to see for themselves the passage through
which the giant had come, but Royce had forbidden that for the
present.

Royce on his part, while glad enough to have Goruba in his hands, was
in some doubt as to how he could turn that fact to account.  Should
he inform the Tubus or not?  He tried to think the matter out
thoroughly.

The Tubus would miss their leader as soon as morning broke.  What
would they do?  No doubt they would at first simply wonder where he
had gone, and why; but they would expect him to return and would feel
no alarm.

As time passed, however, his continued absence would perplex them.
It was pretty clear that they knew nothing of the secret passage.
They might begin to search for him, perhaps supposing that he had met
with an accident.  Not finding him, they would grow more and more
anxious; the mystery would paralyse them; they might give up the
siege.

What would they do if they learnt that he was a prisoner?  The fact
might equally discourage them; or it might enrage them and spur them
on to a desperate attempt to rescue him.  On the whole, it seemed
better to keep them in ignorance, so Royce decided to lie low and say
nothing.

It was important at any rate that the prisoner should be securely
guarded.  Accordingly, when morning dawned, Royce had him carried to
a little cell adjoining the room where Kulana did the cooking.  There
was a low doorway between the two rooms, and through this Kulana
could keep his eye on Goruba.

Royce had the prisoner tied hand and foot, and instructed Kulana to
give him food and water at intervals.  Then, to prevent a rescue, he
took some men down the well, through the passage and cave, and into
the tunnel, which he ordered them to block up at the farther end with
stones and earth.  Thus, if the Tubus in their search for Goruba
should light upon the secret entrance among the trees, they would see
only a mass of rubbish and probably not pry further.

Two days passed.  Goruba was sullen.  He took his meals in silence
under the eyes of three of the Hausas, who released his hands for a
few minutes, and bound them again when he had finished.  Gambaru
bathed his injured wrist, but he expressed no gratitude.

On the third day, however, he broke his silence, telling Kulana that
he wished to speak to the white man.  Kulana left him for a few
moments and fetched Royce, who was very curious as to what the big
negro would say.

He was surprised and amused as Kulana translated.  Goruba, a
prisoner, tried to make terms as though he were a free man, and Royce
a captive in his place!  He said that if he were liberated, he would
allow the white man to leave the country unmolested.

"Cheek!" thought Royce, though he could not help admiring the negro's
spirit.  "Tell him," he said, "that things are the other way round.
If his men will give up their arms I will let them all return across
the Yo, but they must promise not to come raiding any more."

Goruba's only answer was a scowl.  He fell back into his former
sullen silence.

"I really can't blame him," thought Royce.  "If he went back to the
Tubus' country with a broken force, his chief would probably cut off
his head at once.  Even if he were spared, he would know that he had
lost all chance of securing his treasure, for which he has no doubt
been scheming for years.  But if he holds on, there's always a
possibility of being rescued by his party.  Goruba is no fool."

Another day passed.  Parties of the enemy had been seen wandering in
different directions around the fort, but they had not broken up
their camps.  It seemed indeed to Royce that their numbers had
increased, and he guessed that a messenger had been sent back across
the Yo to report Goruba's disappearance, and had brought other Tubus
with him on his return.

Meanwhile Royce was growing more and more anxious about Challis and
about the garrison.  What chance had Challis, he thought, of raising
the district, devastated as it was, against raiders so strong in
numbers and so terrible in reputation?  The prospects of relief from
the outside were desperately slight.

Inside, food was running short.  Royce realised with dismay that he
had over-estimated the stock.  He doled it out sparingly to Kulana,
whose work became lighter every day.  Several of the men were showing
signs of weakness, some were scarcely fit for duty.  Royce was
touched by the courage with which they endured their privations.
Even the weak did not murmur or complain.  All looked to him with
trust and confidence that he and Massa Chally would save them.

On this day, as Royce made the miserable dole for the evening meal,
he had hard work to appear hopeful and cheerful.  But he knew that
he, at any rate, must not appear despondent.

"We are getting thin, Kulana," he said, with a smile, "but that gives
all the more room for fattening up by and by, when Massa Chally comes
back."

"Oh yes, sah--when Massa Chally comes back," Kulana repeated.

"It will be only a day or two now," Royce went on, fervently hoping
that the future would not belie him.

"Only a day or two, sah," said Kulana.  "Den we eat lots and lots,
get all jolly fat."

Royce went to the wall, as he did many times a day, and scanned the
country through his field-glasses.  But beyond the Tubus' camps there
was nothing to be seen but the vast stretch of open country, dotted
with bush and woodland.  There were no signs of Challis.

Suddenly he was startled by cries of alarm within the fort.  Hurrying
in the direction of the sounds, he was amazed to see a cloud of smoke
arising from the roofless room used by Kulana.  The cook was at the
door, groaning and wringing his hands.  Others were trying to get
through the smoke into the room.

No sooner had Royce reached the spot than he heard new cries and
rifle shots from the wall.  Thinking that the Tubus were attacking at
last, he rushed back to deal with the more pressing danger, leaving
the men on the spot to fight the fire.

The Hausas at the north-east corner were blazing away in the
direction of the tongue of woodland in which lay the entrance to
Goruba's tunnel.  But there were no Tubus in sight except a small
group on foot far to the left, who were not attacking, but had
apparently been drawn from their camp by the sound of firing from the
fort.

Yes, there was one other.  Looking into the distance he had at first
failed to see a dark figure nearer at hand, zigzagging down the lower
slopes of the hill.  When at last Royce caught sight of it, it was
disappearing into the wood.

"Stop firing!" he cried, recognising that it was only a waste of
ammunition.  "Keep a good look out."

Then he hurried back to deal with the fire, wondering whether the
negro he had seen was a scout sent up to reconnoitre the fort.

The fire, meanwhile, seemed to have burnt itself out.  The room was
still full of smoke, smelling of roasting nuts and grain.  Royce was
seized with misgiving.  He plunged through the smoke, coughing and
rubbing his eyes.  What he saw filled him with dismay.  The whole
remaining stock of provisions, except a few tins of beef he kept in
his own room, was blackened and burnt.

Running back out of the smoke, he ordered some of the men to save
what was still savable, then turned angrily to question Kulana, to
whose carelessness he thought the fire was due.  But his anger was
immediately disarmed, Kulana explained that he had been absent a few
minutes, fetching water from the well for the evening meal.  The fire
was quite safe when he left it, but when he returned the place was in
flames.

A new suspicion flashed into Royce's mind.  Darting again across the
smoke-filled room, he bent down to look through the opening leading
to the prisoner's cell.  Goruba was gone!

Two pieces of broken cord lay on the floor; two other pieces, charred
at one end, were in the cookhouse.

Royce could only guess at the manner of escape.  During these past
days Goruba must have been patiently working his feet loose.  Having
freed them, he had seized the opportunity of Kulana's absence to
crawl into the cook-house, burn the cord about his wrists at the
fire, set fire to the food, and make his escape in the subsequent
confusion.

Three or four men at the wall said that a man had suddenly and
without a sound rushed from behind them, jumped on to the wall,
sprung down the twelve feet to the ground outside, and dashed down
the hill.  They fired as soon as they recovered from their surprise.
One of them was sure that he had hit the man.

"But he got away," said Royce gloomily.  "And nearly all the food is
destroyed."  Inwardly he added: "What is to become of us all?"



CHAPTER XXVII

AN ATTACK IN FORCE

Kulana was doing his best to provide a meal--the last!--for the
garrison, when Royce's thoughts were diverted from their gloomy
situation by a sudden call for action.

His look-out men shouted, and rushing to the wall he saw that the
great attack, which he had so long expected, was being made at last.
The Tubus, dismounted, were rushing up the hill from three sides.
Goruba was conspicuous at the head of the party from the north-east.

It was plain that the attack had been arranged.  Probably only
Goruba's absence had delayed it.  The three columns were advancing in
such a way that they would reach the fort at about the same moment,
and a fact that for an instant struck Royce with the chill of dread
was that some men in each party carried short ladders, which during
these days of apparent inaction they had evidently been constructing
in the woods.

The situation was one which might well cause the bravest heart to
quail.  The Tubus were two or three hundred in number; the garrison
numbered only sixty, all suffering from the lack of sufficient food.
Only fifteen had rifles; most of the Tubus carried firearms of a
sort.  The garrison's greatest defence was their walls, and these the
enemy were coming prepared to scale.

"But we'll put up a fight," said Royce to himself.

He divided his riflemen into three sections, and posted one at each
of the walls so soon to be assailed.  Behind them he placed the rest
of the garrison, of whom a few had spears, the remainder being armed
only with stones.  He himself took up a position on the bastion at
the north-east corner.

The Tubus came leaping with immense strides up the hill.  Royce
waited until they were about two hundred yards away, then gave the
order to fire.  Three volleys flashed forth; some of the enemy
dropped, but their leaders shouted words of encouragement, and the
masses continued to sweep onward, as a stormy sea surges around an
isolated rock.

The Hausas fired steadily at the word of command, but seemed to make
little impression on the ranks of the Tubus.  If a ladder-bearer
fell, the man nearest to him snatched up the fallen burden and ran
on.  They did not even fire as they advanced--partly because the
garrison were covered by the walls; chiefly, no doubt, because they
hoped to overcome the defence by sheer weight of numbers.

Royce felt that the brunt of the attack would fall on that part of
the fort against which Goruba was advancing in person.  The gigantic
negro seemed to bear a charmed life.  Although he was bounding up the
hill several paces ahead of his followers, and consequently drew the
fire of two or three of the Hausas, he was untouched, though some of
his men fell at every few yards.

With fierce yells the Tubus pressed on.  Hitherto Royce had taken no
active part in the fight, standing on the bastion and directing the
men on each front.  But now, thinking that if Goruba fell his
followers might lose heart, he drew his revolver and flashed it at
the giant.  He was a good shot in general, but for some reason or
other he missed, and before he could fire again Goruba was beneath
the wall, hidden from him.

In a moment a score of ladders were placed against the wall on either
side of the bastion.  Royce had no doubt that an equal number was
being employed behind him.  The Tubus began to swarm up.

Royce saw that his men had done all that was possible with rifle
fire; they could now only try to repulse the stormers hand to hand.
He ordered his men to club their rifles and strike at every head they
saw appear above the walls.

For some minutes there was desperate work, the Tubus striving to make
a lodgment on the walls, the garrison to hurl them back.  At first
the struggle was not unequal.  The enemy could only mount one by one;
while mounting they could not use their weapons, and the defenders
had the advantage of them in position.

[Illustration: GORUBA HAS A BLOW]

Royce waited for Goruba to appear.  When he saw the massive head rise
above the wall he pulled the trigger of his revolver.  There was no
response; something had gone wrong.

Dropping the weapon, he snatched the rifle from the nearest Hausa and
brought the butt down on Goruba's head with all his force.  The man
fell back among his followers, and Royce hoped that he had seen the
last of him.

But he had underestimated the thickness of the African skull.  For a
time he was busy with the Tubus who had mounted on each side of their
fallen leader, and had just succeeded in clearing the wall in his
neighbourhood when he heard loud shouts from the wall behind.

Turning round, he saw that Goruba had mounted there and was laying
about him with his clubbed rifle with undiminished vigour.  Royce
called to Gambaru and another man to follow him, sprang down to the
inside of the ditch, and rushed across the fort.

They were just in time to fell two or three Tubus who had already
dropped down from the wall, tumbled into the ditch, and were
struggling to clamber up.  The other Hausas were gallantly trying to
beat the assailants from their ladders.  The air rang with shouts,
mingled with the dull thuds of the rifles as they fell on heads and
shoulders.  Goruba had managed to plant his feet on the wall, and was
about to spring down when Royce thrust his rifle between the negro's
legs and, with a sudden wrench, caused him to lose his balance.  With
a savage yell he fell backwards, and once more lay prostrate on the
ground outside.

Reinforced by Royce and his two followers, the Hausas on their side
fought with redoubled fury, and after a minute's hard fighting
cleared the wall.  But the weakening of the defence at his former
post had enabled the enemy to press the attack there.

Leaving some of his men to re-open fire on the Tubus, if they
returned to the assault, Royce hurried back.  He found that during
his absence the garrison had been driven from the ramparts.  The
enemy had drawn up their ladders, and, jumping down on the inner
side, had begun to throw them as bridges across the ditch, in spite
of the shower of stones which the men there were hurling at them.

Royce called up some men from the western side, where the attack had
failed, and led them with a ringing cheer upon the flank of the
invaders.  Attacked thus from two sides, they gave way and were
driven in a confused mass between the wall and the ramparts towards
the bastion on which Royce had recently posted his riflemen.

Seized with panic and deprived of their leader, the Tubus tried to
clamber up the wall.  Some few succeeded, the greater number were
knocked down with rifles or pulled back by the defenders, and fell
cowering to the ground.

Again Royce had to turn back to deal with another crowd who had taken
advantage of his absence to swarm up on the eastern rampart, from
which they had driven the panting Hausas.  But the men behind the
ditch, seeing that they could now cast their stones without hitting
their friends, flung the jagged missiles at the enemy just as they
were raising their guns to fire.

"Well done!" cried Royce, rushing to their support.

This was enough for the Tubus.  Only one of them managed to fire;
then a stone struck him, and with his companions he leapt from the
wall among the baffled men beneath.

Beaten on all sides, the Tubus took to their heels and fled as fast
as they could down the hill which they had ascended with such
confidence a quarter of an hour before.



CHAPTER XXVIII

THE ELEVENTH HOUR

Challis, having re-formed his column, disorganised by the
rhinoceroses, led it forward at a brisk pace to make up for lost
time.  Two men who knew the country went in advance as scouts.

The march continued for the rest of the day without mishap.  At night
they encamped on open ground, lighting no fires, and with sunrise
next morning they were again on foot.

Soon after midday John announced that the fort was about three miles
away.  Challis ordered the men to halt.  Now that they were nearing
the enemy it was necessary to move with great caution.  Calling the
leaders of the various tribes together, he explained to them, through
John, that he would leave them for a few hours and go forward alone
to reconnoitre the position.  They were not to move until his return.

"Sah not go by himself," said John.  "Me show way; me savvy all 'bout
it."

"I think you are right," said Challis.  "I shall go faster with you
as guide.  Come along, then; let us start at once."

They set off across the open country in the direction of the fort,
John's sense of locality making him a capable guide.

Presently they entered an extensive stretch of woodland, through
which progress was slow.  Just as they reached the farther end of it
John started back suddenly.

"Tubus, sah!" he whispered.

Two Tubus, armed with spears, had just dismounted, tethered their
horses, and entered the wood.

"This is awkward," thought Challis.  "If they are scouts, they may go
far enough to see our men, or they may see us.  What can we do,
John?" he asked.

"Shoot, sah," replied John at once.

"That would never do.  The shots would alarm the enemy.  Besides, I
don't care about shooting.  Do you think we could capture them?"

John grinned.  The idea pleased him.

"If we can manage it," Challis went on, "you must take them back to
our men.  I can find my way alone now."

"Berry fine, all same, sah," said John.  "Me show sah."

He turned back into the wood, moving swiftly but silently through the
undergrowth.  Challis followed him, noticing that he was taking a
direction away from that followed by the Tubus.  In a few moments he
guessed the reason of this.  John's intention was to get to leeward
of the enemy, as if he were stalking animals.

It was nearly half-an-hour before the Hausa stopped, laid his finger
to his lips, and pointed through the trees.  Challis caught sight of
the two men walking slowly towards them, a few yards apart,
apparently examining the ground.

John by signs made his leader understand what his plan was.  They
were to separate and crouch among the undergrowth, one on each side,
until the men passed; then to spring on them from behind.

Bending low, they selected two large bushes and lay in wait there.
The Tubus came on unsuspiciously, but looking keenly around them.

Challis was tingling with excitement.  Would the men see him?  Would
they hear the rustle of his movements?  Would they escape?  If they
did, it seemed that all chance of a secret approach to the fort would
be lost.

His man was drawing nearer.  He passed within five or six yards of
the bush.  Then Challis rose to his feet, gathered himself together,
and made a spring towards the negro.  The man heard him, turned with
a start, and was raising his spear, when Challis, stooping suddenly,
threw his arms round the Tubu's knees and brought him to the ground.

Almost at the same moment, twenty yards away, John, as noiselessly as
a panther, had leapt upon the back of the second Tubu and fallen on
top of him.  Depriving the man of his spear, he was now forcing him
to crawl on all fours towards his prostrate companion, threatening to
prick him with the spear if he made a noise or did not move fast
enough.

While Challis kept guard over the men, John cut from the undergrowth
a number of pliant tendrils.  With these he tied the Tubus' wrists,
and fastened them also neck to neck, telling them, in their own
language, that they were silly fellows.

One of them spoke to him sullenly.

"_Yoi-aloo!_" cried John, laughing.  "Dey say Goruba gone lost, sah!"

"Lost, is he?" said Challis.  "They were searching for him, then.
How was he lost?"

"Went away, sah," returned John, after questioning the man.  "No
savvy what for.  'Fraid him gobbled up."

"That's good news.  What will they do if they don't find him?"

"Very sad all same, sah.  Dey go back over Yo; had 'nuff; plenty
sick, sah."

It was good news indeed that the Tubus had lost their leader; still
better that they were disheartened and thinking of returning to their
own country.

"Well, John," said Challis, "take these fellows back to our men; then
come after me as fast as you can.  I will go on and see what is
happening."

John went off, driving the negroes in front of him.  Challis waited
until they were out of sight; then, going to the edge of the wood, he
looked all around to make sure that no more Tubus were in sight, and
continued his journey, taking cover from bush to bush.

In a few minutes he saw the fort on the hilltop some distance away.
Making a round, he approached it from the north-west side, stopping
every now and then to listen.  Apparently there were no Tubus between
him and the fort, but he dared not go too close to it while daylight
lasted, for he would certainly be seen as he mounted the hill.

Accordingly he halted in a wooded hollow to wait for darkness.  He
wondered how the little garrison was faring, whether the Tubus had
attacked, whether they were really on the point of giving up the
siege.  The time passed too slowly for his impatience, and he longed
for the sun to go down.

Suddenly, about an hour before sunset, he heard shouts.  They ceased
immediately.  What was happening?  He stole up the slope of the
hollow, intending to lie flat just below the top and peep over.  But
before he had reached it there were loud shouts, followed by rapid
rifle fire.  It was clear that the garrison was defending itself
against a fierce assault.

When he gained the top of the slope and looked over, he found that he
was still too far away to see anything clearly.  The attack was not
being made on the side towards which he was gazing.  He was on the
point of rushing forward, when he saw several dark forms running
round the base of the wall.  Though he longed to assist his friend,
it was clear that he could not run the gauntlet through these armed
negroes, and he sank back, filled with great anxiety.

The firing ceased, but the shouts continued for a time.  Then again
there was silence, and he saw with unspeakable thankfulness that the
Tubus had disappeared.

"Well done!" he thought.  "It will soon be dark, and then----"

John slipped up quietly behind him.

* * * * *

Meanwhile Royce and his men were resting after their victory.  Never
had a fight been won at so small a cost.  Many of the men had been
injured by the Tubus' clubbed rifles, some had spear wounds; but none
had been killed, and with care all the wounded would recover.

Royce praised the men for their sturdy defence, and told them he
hoped the enemy would trouble them no more.  But in his heart he was
far from confident.  An ordinary raiding party of negroes would long
since have abandoned the struggle, but in Goruba these men had no
ordinary leader.  He had shown himself possessed of exceptional
courage and resource, and--what is still rarer in the
negro--resolution.  While he was with them they would not give up,
Royce felt sure.

He wished that he could have disposed of Goruba; but when, after the
fight, he mounted the wall at the point where the giant had fallen
and looked for him, rifle in hand, he was not to be seen.

Kulana managed to provide a meal from the remains of the burnt
provisions, but it was the last.  The men knew it, and though Royce
spoke cheerily, he could see that they were depressed, in spite of
their victory.  Unless relief came, they would be face to face with
starvation if the siege were maintained, and of relief there was no
sign.

When darkness fell Royce posted the sentries as usual, and looked
anxiously down the hill to see whether the enemy were still encamped
below.  His hope that they had withdrawn was dashed by the appearance
of their fires in the usual quarters; they still formed almost a
complete ring round the hill.

Reckoning up the chances for the hundredth time, Royce realised that,
although a sally from the fort might break through the ring, the
enemy would follow them up on their horses and, in the open country,
overwhelm them.

"It's no go," he thought with gloomy foreboding.  "Poor old Tom!
What has become of him?"

As he sat resting his chin on his hand, Gambaru came up with two or
three of the Hausas.

"Well, what is it?" asked Royce.

"Massa Chally nebber come, sah," said Gambaru in a mournful tone.

"Well?  You have something else to say?"

Gambaru hesitated for a moment.

"Food all gone, sah," he began.  "What can do?  Must eat.  Nuffin to
eat.  Boys all die.  All berry hungry, sah."

"I know.  We have had little enough all along.  We have now nothing
at all.  I am very sorry for you.  But I want you to wait just one
more day."

The men talked among themselves.  Then Gambaru said:

"Boys no want to wait, sah.  Tubus light fires; no go away.  No more
food; how can fight?  Boys say all go out, run fast."

"They would catch us on their horses."

"Die all same, sah," said Gambaru.  "No food, all die; Tubus catch
um, all die same.  One way die slow, other way die quick--boys say
die quick best."

Royce was wandering how he could persuade the men to wait, even one
day longer, when the bark of a jackal startled them all.

"Thank God!" said Royce, rising in excitement.  "It is Massa Chally
at last.  That was John's cry."

Some of the men shook their heads and declared that it was the cry of
a real jackal, but Gambaru and Kulana assured them positively that it
was John's imitation.  They listened silently for a repetition of the
cry.  It had come from a distance; there was no other sound in the
silence of the night.

The whole garrison flocked to the walls and, holding their breath,
peered out into the darkness.  They could see nothing, hear nothing.

Minutes passed; hope gave way to disappointment and despair.  Even
Royce himself felt that he had been mistaken, and the men began to
murmur against Gambaru and Kulana.

But suddenly they were startled to silence again by the cry, repeated
softly close under the wall on the north-west side.  Every one ran to
the spot, even the sentries, and Royce did not send them back to
their posts.  For now, down the slope, they had caught sight of a
dim, dark shape moving by almost imperceptible degrees towards the
fort.

"Let down a ladder, Kulana," said Royce, whispering through parched
lips.

The Hausa took up one of the scaling-ladders left behind by the Tubus
and lowered it over the wall.  In breathless silence the watchers saw
the form crawl up to it, set his foot on it, and begin to climb.

Murmurs of excitement burst from the eager crowd.

"Hush!" said Royce.  Leaning over the wall he whispered: "Tom?"

"Right-o, old boy.  Back at last!" said Challis's cheery voice.

"Massy Chally back!  Massa Chally back!" cried the negroes,
irrepressibly laughing and shouting with joy.  Royce bade them be
silent in vain.  His heart was too full to reprove them.

"Thank God, you're back!" he said, giving his hand to Challis as he
reached the top of the wall.  "I had given you up."

"Glad I'm in time," said Challis, pressing his friend's hand warmly.

"But where is John?" asked Royce.  "It was his cry we heard?"

"Of course.  I couldn't have done that.  John has gone back to my
army."



CHAPTER XXIX

TUBUS TO THE RESCUE

Together in the inner room of the fort, the two friends talked long
and earnestly.  Royce related all that had happened during Challis's
absence; the discovery of Rabeh's hoard, the capture and escape of
Goruba, the attack which had just been beaten off.  He made light of
the garrison's straits for food, and it was some time before Challis
learnt that Goruba's cunning had destroyed the little that remained.

"Poor old chap!" he said.  "Well, we've brought a little with us, and
when we've driven the Tubus away we shall have the whole country to
forage in."

"You spoke of your army," said Royce, "You're not pulling my leg?"

"Not a bit of it.  I've got a couple of hundred fine fellows three or
four miles away.  I never thought I should live to be a drill
sergeant!"

He explained how he had recruited and trained his army, and Royce
chuckled as he saw in his mind's eye the first efforts of the negroes
to obey the word of command.

Then they talked over their plans,

"What I propose is this," said Challis.  "I'll slip out again
presently, get back to my army, and lead an attack on the Tubus' camp
to the north-west about dawn.  When you hear the rumpus, make a
sortie with your men, and fall on the enemy in the rear."

"But what about the other camps?" asked Royce.

"We must tackle them when we have joined forces," Challis replied.
"I fancy the Tubus are so unaccustomed to meet organised attack that
they won't put up much of a fight.  At any rate, I hope they won't,
for everybody's sake, though we shan't have done our work properly
unless we teach them a lesson."

"Well, old man, we shall owe a lot to you.  I've wondered and
wondered what you were doing, wished you hadn't gone, feared I should
never see you again; in short----"

"In short, you're an old ass, so shut up.  You've had much the harder
task in keeping your end up here.  Now, don't argue, or we shall have
to toss for it, and I won last time."

A little later Challis left the fort by the ladder as he had entered
it, and crawled down the hill, pausing every now and again to listen
for signs of the enemy.  Several times he was deceived by the
movement of bushes stirred by a light breeze.  Once or twice rabbits
or other small animals scurried away almost from beneath him, giving
him a momentary start until he realised the nature of these harmless
disturbances.

He reached the foot of the hill, and directed his course under cover
of occasional bushes in a line between south-west and south.

A strange feeling of uneasiness held him, in spite of his efforts to
shake it off.  Though he moved with the utmost caution, his progress
was not so silent as he could have wished.  Once he stepped on a dry
twig, which snapped with a report that, in his nervousness, he felt
sure must be heard by the enemy.

Not until he had reached the shelter of the woodland did he breathe
more freely.

There was now little chance, he thought, of his being intercepted by
the Tubus, whose camp fires he had left behind him and on either
hand.  But there was always the risk of coming upon some wild animal,
or perhaps a serpent like that which had disturbed Royce's night's
rest in the tree, and in his watchfulness he strained eyes and ears
painfully.

He passed safely through the thin belt of woodland, and hurried
across open ground towards a thicker belt which he saw looming up
before him, dark in the starlight.  Just as he had come within about
fifty yards of it, there was a slight sound immediately in his front.
Halting, he heard the patter of bare feet on both sides, and a number
of figures darted dimly into view from left and right.

And now Challis's training as three-quarter in his school fifteen
stood him in good stead.

As the men approached, he sprang forward, just eluding their attack,
swerved to avoid a man right ahead, and dropped, in time to bring
down another rushing in from his left.  He heard the negroes
colliding and jostling one another in the darkness as he sprinted
towards the trees.

They were after him instantly, but he had a few yards in hand when he
plunged into the undergrowth, heedless of the thorns that tore his
hands and clothes.  The almost naked negroes were punished much more
severely as they rushed in after him.

It was pitch dark in the wood.  Challis ran on blindly, tearing a way
by main strength, or by doubling and twisting when the obstacles were
too firm to be broken through.  He soon shook off his pursuers, but
it was not long before he recognised that he was lost in the wood,
and his nervousness returned with double force.

Should he go on, or stand still?  If he went on, he might go farther
and farther from his true course.  If he stood still, he might be
stalked by some wild beast which would probably avoid him if he were
moving.

After a little anxious hesitation, he decided to climb a tree and try
to get a rough bearing from the stars.  When he descended, he pushed
on again.  He knew that the wood was not very wide.  Beyond it was
more or less open country, over which he thought he could easily find
his way to the spot where his men were awaiting him.

Presently he came to a glade, and went more rapidly, paying less
attention to his footsteps, and peering around for some opening
through the rest of the wood.

Suddenly the ground seemed to give way beneath him.  He fell,
accompanied by a landslide of loose earth, and when at last his fall
was checked, he lay for some minutes half-stunned upon the ground.

When he regained his wits, he anxiously felt his arms and legs.

"No bones broken," he thought.  "But I'm sure I'm black and blue.
And where am I?"

Feeling battered and bruised, he got up, shaking off the mass of
earth, leaves, and twigs that had fallen with him, and began to grope
about in the darkness.  In a moment or two he stumbled over something
hard, which rattled as he kicked it.  He stooped down, and felt with
his hand, which touched a heap of bones.

A shudder ran through him, and he recoiled.  "Don't be a silly ass,"
he said to himself, and stooped again, taking up one bone after
another.  He could not help heaving a sigh of relief.  Such large
bones could never have been the framework of a human body.  "I'm
jiggered," he thought.  "Of course, I've tumbled into an elephant
pit.  And how in the world am I to get out?"

He knew that elephants were sometimes trapped in deep pits by the
natives, and he had vague recollections of stories of men who had
fallen into such pits and never got out again.

Looking upward, he saw signs of dawn through the narrow opening.  But
within the pit it was still too dark for him to see the nature of the
place into which he had fallen.  He could only examine it by the
sense of touch.

The result of his examination was alarming.  He walked round the pit,
testing the walls with his hand in the hope of finding a place where
the earth had broken away, so that he could climb up.  But he found
that the walls sloped inward, like an inverted cup.  They were quite
unscalable.

At this discovery he was aghast.  What could he do?  He was twelve or
fifteen feet below the ground, and though he groped around for
objects with which to make a sort of pedestal, he found nothing but
the elephant's bones.

"It's no good getting into a stew," he thought.  "I had better wait
until it is light.  Perhaps I'll see a way out then."

He sat down, reflecting that, if there were no other way, he would
have to dig up earth with his pocket-knife, and make a pillar high
enough, if he stood on it, to enable him to reach the sides of the
hole.  The thought that, even if he succeeded in this, the earth
above might break away in his hands, made him shiver.

In course of time the sky changed from dark blue to grey, and from
grey to light blue.  But the bottom of the pit was only dimly
illuminated, because the hole was so small.  He saw now, however,
that the bones formed a complete skeleton, and that a pair of
enormous tusks lay imbedded in moss, leaves, and earth.

Clearly the pit had long been disused.  Those who had dug it had
either forgotten it, or more probably had been killed in Tubu raids.
The elephant must have met its fate many years before, for nothing
but the skeleton remained.

The brushwood originally piled over the opening was only partially
displaced when the elephant tumbled in, and creepers had grown over
what was left, again concealing the trap.

As he became fully aware of the nature of his position, Challis grew
more and more alarmed.  He pictured himself sharing the fate of the
elephant, starving by inches, and at last his bones lying with the
skeleton on the floor of the pit.

His thoughts returned to Royce, waiting in the fort for the help that
never came, and to his army, a few miles away, becoming more and more
uneasy at the absence of their leader, perhaps quarrelling among
themselves, breaking up and leaving the white man to his fate.

These terrible possibilities spurred him to action.  Seizing one of
the bones, he set to work to scrape at one side of the pit, with the
idea of making a pathway.

The earth crumbled away, but was so friable that his work was like
digging in sand; the space he hollowed out filled as fast as he
scraped the earth away.  Then he thought of driving the bones into
the side to form steps, but the ground gave no hold sufficient to
bear his weight.

These failures drove him to despair.  Only one resource was left--to
shout for help.  His own men were too far away to hear him; the only
persons within call were probably the Tubus from whom he had escaped.
But he might as well be killed by Tubus as die of hunger and thirst
in the pit.  Already his mouth was parched through his exertions and
his distress of mind.

He shouted again and again, until he was hoarse.  There was no
answer.  Waiting awhile, he made his hands into a trumpet, and
shouted still more loudly up through the opening.  In the hollow pit
the sound was tremendous.  Still no one replied.

Feeling desperate, he seized his bone spade again and hacked
feverishly at the floor.

"I must do something," he thought, "or I shall go mad."

With the earth he dug up he began to construct a pillar.  But he soon
realised that it would take many hours, perhaps days, to raise it to
a sufficient height.

Hot, weary, and despairing, he was resting for a moment when he heard
a low hail from above.  He looked up; at one side of the hole he saw
a dark face peering down.  He could not distinguish the features.

Without stopping to consider whether the man were an enemy or a
friend, he called to him, and he trembled with joy when he heard, in
startled tones, the words:

"Massa Chally!"

"John!" he cried.  "I can't get out, John."

He laughed afterwards when he remembered this very obvious statement.

"Take care," he added.  "We shall both be lost if you fall in, too."

"Oh my lawks!" John ejaculated.  "What for you go tumble in dat way,
sah?  Berry funny all same."

"Not so funny as you think," said Challis.  "You must get me out.
I've had enough of it."

"Oh yes, sah, me savvy.  Half mo, sah."

His broad face disappeared.  After some minutes he returned with an
armful of creepers, which he stripped of their leaves and deftly
wound into a rope.  This he let down into the pit.  Challis tied it
under his arms, and called to John to pull.  But John, strong as he
was, could not haul up a man of Challis's weight without leverage, as
he found in a very few moments.  There was no convenient tree within
easy reach.  What was to be done?

"Wind it round you, and I will climb up," said Challis.

But he had risen only a few feet above the floor of the pit when John
staggered, and Challis let go and dropped for fear of pulling the
Hausa down.  The mishap seemed to tickle John, who laughed heartily,
though Challis found it no laughing matter, and was all the time
uneasy lest the Tubus should appear on the scene.

"Don't stand there grinning like an ape," he said somewhat tartly.

John sobered at once.

"Me savvy, sah," he said, and for the second time he went away.

When he came back he was accompanied, to Challis's astonishment, by
the two Tubus whom they had captured on the previous day.
Lengthening the rope a little, he wound it tightly round the two men,
who were still tied together, then called to Challis to climb.

[Illustration: RESCUED BY THE ENEMY]

In half a minute Challis's head was level with the brink of the pit.
Then John, telling the Tubus to move away, grasped his master's
hands, and by dint of the efforts of the three men Challis was hauled
out of his prison.



CHAPTER XXX

THE FORWARD MARCH

"How did you happen to be here with the Tubus?" asked Challis, when
he stood beside John.

"Nebber let go, sah," said John.

"But I told you to take them back to the men."

"All same, sah," was John's reply.

He seemed unwilling to say more, fearing, perhaps, a reproof for
disobedience.  But Challis managed to get out of him the explanation
that he had been too anxious about his master's safety to go far
away.  He had left the Tubus tied up to a tree while he went on to
the fort to give his jackal cry, and on returning to them he had
decided to wait in the forest to make sure that Challis would come
back safely.  At dawn he was stealing in the direction of the fort
when he heard Challis's cry.

"Well, it's very lucky that you did disobey," said Challis, "and I
owe you my life, John.  Be sure I shan't forget it."

"Like to please Massa Chally," John grinned happily.

Anxious to make up for lost time, Challis hurried back with John and
the Tubus to the spot where he had left his men.  As he expected,
they were becoming restless.  But they gave a great shout of joy when
they saw him in the distance, and Challis sent John forward to order
them to be silent; for all he knew, Tubu scouts might be in the
neighbourhood.

His intention, as he had arranged with Royce, was to reach the Tubus'
camp north-west of the fort about sunrise, and he felt that there was
grave risk in leading an attack in broad daylight.  But the thought
of Royce's disappointment, of his wonder and dismay when the
arrangement was not carried out, nerved him to the task.

Impressing on the men that they must march in perfect silence, he
drew them up in an orderly column, inspected their arms, and moved
off at their head.  Some of the best scouts were thrown out ahead and
on the flanks to guard against surprise with orders to report at once
if they caught sight of the enemy.

Challis felt very nervous.  Numbers and arms were on the side of the
Tubus.  He had hoped to counterbalance this disadvantage by the
effect of a sudden swoop in the early morning twilight, but that was
now impossible.

The steadiness of his men, however, at the fight by the swamp, was of
good augury, and their belief in white man's magic and trust in their
leader were strong.  They were full of courage and enthusiasm, and
seemed confident that the coming struggle would rid them for ever of
the murderous tyranny of their oppressors.

They followed a roundabout course, in order to take advantage of all
the cover afforded by the numerous clumps of woodland on the western
side of the fort.

As they passed through the undergrowth and trees, they started many
flights of birds, which Challis feared would give warning to the
Tubus, from whom he had so narrowly escaped in the night.  He was
surprised that there was no sign of them.  Why had they not followed
him up, or at least fetched a body of their comrades to hunt for him?

The explanation, which he only guessed at later, was that the Tubus
had supposed that the white fugitive was Royce.  They reported this
to Goruba, who jumped to the conclusion that Royce had left his men
in the lurch.  The result of this mistaken belief will be seen
presently.

The column thus advanced unmolested and unseen.  After an hour and a
half's march, John, who had gone ahead with the scouts, came back to
announce that they were now in a line with the fort, which was
something less than a mile away.

Challis called a halt at the western side, farthest from the fort, of
a patch of scrub.  Once more he impressed on his men the necessity of
silence.  He told them also that if they succeeded in putting the
Tubus of the north-west camp to flight, they must not carry the
pursuit too far, for they would then become dispersed and be unable
to deal with the men from the other camps.

Wondering doubtfully whether John had made his meaning clear, he was
about to lead his men on, when a sound suddenly struck his ear.  For
the moment he did not recognise it, but hearing it again he knew it
to be the sound of horses neighing.  The animals were apparently
between him and the camp.

An idea flashed into his mind.

"John," he said, "go out ahead and see where those horses are, how
many there are, and what the Tubus are doing."

It was twenty minutes before John returned.  His report was
interesting, and would have been alarming, but for the idea which had
occurred to Challis.

About fifty of the Tubus, said John, were about to ride off in a
northerly direction.  Each man had four or five horses in his charge,
so that they were probably going to a grazing ground somewhere near.

The rest of the men in the north-west camp were hard at work making
ladders.  It was clear that another attack was to be made on the
fort.  The ladders previously used had been left behind under the
walls.

It was clear, too, that the enemy had no suspicion of any attempt
from the outside to raise the siege.  Confident in their numbers,
they had taken no steps to guard against an attack from the rear.

"With luck we have them!" said Challis to himself, and turned to give
final orders to his expectant men.



CHAPTER XXXI

THE LAST FIGHT

Challis wished to get as near as possible to the Tubus who were
collecting the horses without being discovered.  Accordingly he drew
out his men in line over a long front, and passed the word along that
they must keep a strict silence.

Then he signed to them to advance, and they moved forward swiftly,
with the lightness of foot which is the negroes' birthright.

For some distance they were covered by the undergrowth.  In spite of
all their care, it was inevitable that the passage of so large a
number of men should cause a slight rustling, and they were still
nearly three hundred yards from the horses when the sound was heard.

The Tubus turned round, caught sight of them, and raised a shout of
alarm.  Concealment was no longer possible.  Challis blew his whistle
for the charge.  His men answered with a fierce yell, and the whole
line swept forward.

Challis had scarcely anticipated the effect of the shrill cries from
hundreds of throats.  The Tubus' horses were seized with panic and
plunged wildly.  Their riders, unable to control them, were
themselves terror-stricken at the sight of the long line of warriors
rushing towards them.  Dropping the horses' bridles, they led the
stampede.

The mob of men and horses surged towards the camp, where some of the
Tubus were engaged in making new ladders, the rest cooking or idling.
They dashed through and over them, scattering them right and left.
Panic spread through the camp, and before the attackers were within
striking distance, the whole force of the enemy was in headlong
flight.

The horses in their blind charge dashed into the slight grass huts
which the Tubus had built and razed them to the ground.  Challis saw
Goruba spring up from the ruins of one of them, catch at the bridle
of a horse that was running by, and leap with extraordinary agility
upon its back.

On went the torrent.  The Tubus who had arms in their hands at the
moment of alarm flung them away to speed their flight.  Behind them
panted Challis's men, shouting more and more loudly as they saw the
dreaded enemy fleeing before them, and Challis rejoiced in the
prospect of a bloodless victory.

For a little the course was uphill, towards the fort; but the slope
gradually affected the direction, and the fugitives bore more and
more to the right.  At last they disappeared among the brushwood and
woodland to the north of the fort, Goruba, conspicuous on his horse,
striving vainly to check the flight.

When all the horses and men had vanished from sight, Goruba
reappeared after a moment or two and galloped round the hill to the
west, the direction of the second Tubu camp.

Challis had hard work, even with John's assistance, to keep his men
in hand.  Their instinct was to rush into the wood after the fleeing
enemy, and they could not understand why the white man's whistle kept
on calling them to halt.

Their line was quite broken, and it was some minutes before Challis
could reform it.  Even then it was incomplete, for many of the men,
carried away by their ardour, had dashed among the trees.

But the line was reformed only just in time.  Round the base of the
hill galloped a force of Tubus from the second camp, led by Goruba.
It was clear from the disorder of their ranks that they had mounted
and rushed off without any attempt to form up.

Challis felt a good deal of anxiety about the result of the
approaching collision until he saw that the Tubus were much fewer in
number than his own men.  Their lack of order also gave him a great
advantage.

Shouting to his men to plant their pikes and stand firm, he awaited
the onset.  Goruba and the foremost of the Tubus charged straight
upon the bristling barrier.  Down they went, though the impact felled
many of the pikemen.  But their fall caused their comrades behind to
hesitate.  Challis was quick to seize the moment.  With a shrill
blast of his whistle he ordered his men to charge, and the willing
negroes, always more ready to advance than to hold their ground,
rushed forward with an impetuosity that carried all before it.

Some of the Tubus turned at once and galloped away.  A few stood for
several moments, as if weighing the chances of a countercharge; then
they too, wheeled their horses about and urged them to a frantic
gallop.  Within a few minutes from the first dash, the hillside in
this quarter was clear.

Challis again called off his men, and hastened to search for Goruba,
whom he expected to find dead or at least seriously wounded on the
ground.  But among the fallen enemy there was no trace of the giant.
He had disappeared.

Meanwhile, Royce, according to his arrangement with Challis, had
dealt with the enemy in the third camp.  He had almost given up hope
when he heard the first sounds of the fray.

The third party of Tubus, when the alarm was raised, took a course
which would have brought them on the rear of Challis's men.  This had
been foreseen by Royce.  After Challis's departure in the night, he
had had the gateway cleared, except for a light, movable barrier, in
readiness for a sortie.  He had seen from the walls the flight of the
first party of the enemy, and the other two parties rushing to the
rescue, one on Challis's front, the other on his rear.  Leaving
Challis to deal with the frontal attack, he led his men out through
the gateway to head off the other party.

[Illustration: ROYCE LEADS THE CHARGE]

Unlike Challis, he had fewer men than the enemy, and less than a
third of them were armed.  But one rifle was of more value than many
spears.  The men lined up on the slope of the hill, where the
advancing enemy must come within close range.  At the word of command
they fired.

The Tubus checked instantly.  They appeared to hesitate whether to
run the gauntlet of the attack and push on to the support of their
comrades or to remain and fight it out with the garrison of the fort.
It was evident that they had no leader of authority, and Royce, like
Challis, was quick to profit by their hesitation.

"After me, boys!" he cried, and led the Hausas in a headlong charge
down the hill.

Behind them, in a wild, tumultuous mob, swarmed the other men, some
armed with stones, some with spears, some even with the Tubus'
scaling ladders.

The very boldness of the movement decided the issue.  If the Tubus
stopped to think, they must have supposed that so small a body, in
measuring themselves against overwhelming numbers, was covered by
support from some other quarter.  They fired one scattered volley.
Royce did not halt his men to reply to it, but bounded on at their
head whooping like a schoolboy, while the Tubus kicked their horses'
flanks and bolted for cover to the nearest wood.

The fight was won.



CHAPTER XXXII

A HOT CHASE

Royce and Challis met at the foot of the hill.

"Splendid, old man!" said the former, gripping his friend by the
hand.  "I had almost given you up, and my men were in a frightful
state of depression."

"Not more depressed than I was," rejoined Challis with a smile.  "I
was depressed sixteen feet below ground!  But I'll tell you all about
that presently.  Give your men a good feed out of the reserve
provisions we have brought.  I'll send my lot out to prevent the
Tubus from reuniting; then we'll talk things over."

Challis sent three-fourths of his force into the forest and the
surrounding country, with orders to check any attempt of the
scattered Tubus to combine.  Meanwhile Royce's men revelled in what
was, after their privations, a sumptuous feast.

While they were eating Royce and Challis attended to the few wounded.

"It's extraordinary, that so few have been lost on either side," said
Challis.  "It's almost a bloodless victory.  The Tubus have been
vastly over-rated.  They seem more ready to bunk than to fight."

"The explanation is simple enough," said Royce.  "They have never met
with organised opposition before.  They have had it all their own
way, and kept the negroes down by the sheer terror of their name.
Their power is gone for good now."

"I'm not sure of that," returned Challis.  "Goruba is still at large.
He was bowled over when he charged my pikemen, but he couldn't have
been much hurt, for he got clean away."

"That's a pity.  If we had collared him our victory would have been
complete.  None of your men saw which way he went?"

"They didn't say so."

"If we could only find out, we might pursue him.  So long as he is at
large, he is a danger; he may rally the fugitives, and when they have
got over their fright they will be a far more formidable enemy to
tackle."

"Well, let us round up some horses, in case we get word of him.
We'll probably find a good many in the woods."

"A good idea.  Some of the Hausas can ride--I will send them."

He selected half-a-dozen of the Hausas, including Gambaru and Kulana,
and sent them under John's command to bring in any horses they might
find within a short distance of the fort.  While they were gone,
Challis related the incident of his fall into the pit.

"But for John's disobedience I should never have got out," he
concluded.  "We owe a good deal to the devotion of our men, Hugh."

"We do, indeed, and it shan't go unrewarded.  The way they have stuck
to us is magnificent."

After about an hour, John and his party returned, riding on captured
horses and leading others.  They also brought several Tubu prisoners,
tied to their saddles.  John was evidently much excited.

"Goruba, sah!" he cried, springing from his horse.  "Him run away."

"We know that," said Royce.  "Which way did he go?  Did you see him?"

"No see him, sah.  Hah!  Him berry clebber chap, sah, Gamba feel very
bad, sure 'nuff."

"Who is Gamba?  What do you mean?" Royce asked.

John drew forward one of the prisoners, a tall young negro slightly
wounded in the thigh.

"Dis Gamba, sah," John went on.  "Him say Goruba pull him off horse,
knock him boko, sah.  Goruba get a horse, run away all same.  Gamba
berry mad; what for Goruba run away, not him?  Him Tubu, Goruba no
Tubu; make him berry mad, sah."

John did not explain himself very clearly; but, after questioning him
patiently, Royce made out that when Gamba was about to ride away
Goruba pulled him from the saddle, struck him on the head, and
galloped away on his horse.

Gamba resented this.  He had always disliked Goruba as a stranger who
had wormed his way into the confidence of the Tubu chief, and whose
rise to power had awakened the jealousy of many of the tribe.  He
blamed Goruba, too, for the misfortunes which had lately befallen the
community, and had a personal grudge against him for appropriating
his horse and preventing him from fleeing to safety.

"Which way did Goruba ride?" asked Royce.

Gamba explained that Goruba had ridden northwards towards the Yo,
probably to fetch reinforcements large enough to crush the
Englishmen's party.

"He has got a good start," said Royce to Challis.  "but there's just
a chance we may catch him if we go at once."

"Especially if this fellow will guide us," said Challis.

In spite of his wound, Gamba was eager to lead the chase of the man
he hated.  Accordingly, Royce and Challis mounted and, accompanied by
the Tubu and their six Hausas, cantered away towards the north.
John, much to his disappointment, was left behind in command of the
men.

As they rode on, the Englishmen got more information from Gamba,
Kalana interpreting.  It turned out that he was a nephew of the
childless chief of the Tubus, and had expected some day to succeed
him, until Goruba appeared on the scene.

Moreover, he had a special affection for the horse of which he had
been deprived.  It was the fastest horse owned by the tribe, and
Goruba had long coveted it.  He said that if Goruba rode straight for
the Yo and crossed it they would never catch him.  Their only chance
of doing so was that he might be delayed, or halt for some reason or
other.

On learning this Royce quickened the pace.  Gamba led the party
almost due north, through a country which had probably never before
been visited by a white man.  It was broken, hilly country, for the
Yo was still far from the mud flats that mark its entrance into Lake
Chad.

They soon had visible proof, in hoof marks, that more than one
horseman had recently ridden in front of them.  Clearly Goruba was
not alone.  Gamba dismounted and examined the tracks.  He gave a
grunt of satisfaction when he discovered the track of his own horse.

When they rode on he seemed to forget that he was following up an
important member of his own tribe.  All his attention was fixed on
recovering his horse and squaring accounts with a personal enemy.

Keenly scanning the trail as he rode, he pointed out every now and
then spots where stragglers had joined Goruba, until it was clear
that the party with him numbered eight or nine men.

"We needn't bother about them," said Royce.  "You boys, go for
Goruba.  You can't mistake him; he is bigger than the rest.  Don't
kill him if you can help it; he will be more useful to us alive than
dead."

The track was easy to follow, and there was no doubt that Goruba was
making straight for the Yo.  It was not likely that he had given up
the contest, for his treasure was still safe in the underground cave.

Royce hoped that the giant would not meet a raiding party of Tubus
before he reached the headquarters of the tribe, for with his few
Hausas, armed with rifles though they were, he would be no match for
a large band of the negro warriors.

The sun was hot, and the stiff pace at which they rode fatigued the
whole party.  But Royce pressed on, hoping to make up for the start
of more than an hour which Goruba had had.

At last, early in the afternoon, he caught sight of the quarry about
two miles ahead, disappearing over the crest of a gentle slope.

The pursuers, who were riding down hill, urged their horses to a
gallop.  Easing them up the slope, they found when they had reached
the top that they had gained nearly half-a-mile on the fugitives, who
were apparently unaware of being followed.

From this point onwards the country was a succession of ups and downs
like a switchback.  The Tubus had disappeared; when next they were
sighted, they had almost gained the top of another slope.  Royce
allowed them to pass from sight over the skyline, then galloped on to
gain on them once more.

Hitherto the ground had been fairly open, but it became more wooded
as they proceeded.  The Tubus were hidden when the pursuers got to
the crest of the hill.  They gave their horses a breather, and then
pushed on at full speed over a rough forest track.  Royce was leading
with Gamba, Challis and the rest following in single file.

It was impossible to see more than about a hundred yards in front,
owing to the winding of the path among the trees.  Suddenly the
rearmost of the Tubus came into sight about eighty yards ahead.  At
the same moment he heard the thuds of the pursuers' horses, turned in
his saddle, and, shouting with alarm, urged his horse forward.

"After them!" cried Royce, digging his heels into his horse's flanks.

A turn of the path brought the whole nine of the fugitives into view.
The path narrowed, so that there was only room for one horseman to
ride at a time.  The better mounted of the Tubus tried to pass the
slower, with the result that some were edged off into the wood on
either side, and tried to force their way through the entangling
vegetation.

"Never mind about them," cried Royce, who had seen Goruba's huge form
galloping ahead of two others.

It was a wild ride.  In some places the branches of trees hung down
over the path, and the pursuers had to dodge them by bending low on
their horses' necks.  At other places the path itself was obstructed
by fallen boughs and by masses of creepers, so that both pursuers and
pursued had the utmost difficulty in avoiding a fall.

Royce, with his eyes fixed on Goruba, narrowly escaped coming a
cropper, and was only saved by the sure-footedness of his horse,
accustomed to running in this wild forest country.  Gambaru was
struck from his saddle by an overhanging branch, and Challis, close
behind him, pulled up just in time to avoid riding over him.

One of the Tubus riding behind Goruba edged his companion off into
the thicket.  Royce, close on his heels, shot out his left arm as he
passed and threw the man from his seat.

Then, just as his horse was steadily overhauling the man in front,
there was a sudden dramatic development.

Goruba glanced round, took the measure of the situation, and drawing
a pistol, while still riding at full speed, deliberately shot the
horse of his follower.  The beast fell with its rider.  Royce was
unable to check his horse in time; it turned a somersault over the
fallen animal, and Royce was shot over its head into a thorn bush
several yards away.

The Hausas yelled with alarm and reined up.  Challis, forgetting
Goruba in his anxiety for his friend, sprang from his horse and ran
to assist him as he rose, torn and bleeding, from the merciless
thorns.

For a few seconds Royce was too dazed with pain and shock to think or
speak.  Then, collecting his wits, he said:

"Don't bother about me!  After Goruba--don't let him escape."

But Goruba had reckoned on the confusion and delay which his shooting
the horse would occasion.  By the time that Challis had remounted and
dashed on in pursuit, the bold negro was out of sight.



CHAPTER XXXIII

THE END OF GORUBA

While Royce was recovering from the shock of his fall, Challis and
some of the men, including Gamba, the young Tubu, galloped on in the
hope of overtaking Goruba.  But when they had ridden for a mile or
two without catching sight of him, Challis pulled up, unwilling to
leave Royce with only two or three men to support him in case the
scattered Tubus attacked.

Riding back, he had not gone far, however, when he met Royce and the
rest of the party.

"There are no bones broken; I'm all right now," cried Royce.  "I
suppose Goruba has got away?"

"Yes, confound him!  He's as difficult to catch as a weasel.  Is it
any good going on?"

"We won't give it up yet," replied Royce.  "He may delay to collect
his scattered band, and if we can catch him before he gets to the
ford over the Yo it will be a great score for us.  He would be
invaluable as a hostage, to say the least of it."

Gamba, smarting at the loss of his horse, was eager to push on,
though he admitted that it would be difficult to overtake the best
horse of the tribe.  Only by accident could the pursuit succeed.

The party rode on at their best pace.  The country soon became more
rocky, and on the harder soil they lost the tracks of Goruba's horse.
But this was of no importance.  Gamba was sure that the man would
make for the Yo, and the nearest ford was about two hours' ride from
the spot where Royce had come to grief.  Towards that ford he led the
way, often outstripping the rest of the party in his eagerness.

But there was never a sign of Goruba.  They scanned the crest of
every rise in the ground, hoping to see the big form on the sky-line.
Neither horse nor man came within their view.

At last they arrived at the river, and Gamba galloped at headlong
pace down to the ford.  There he sprang from his horse and feverishly
examined the tracks on the softer soil.  To his surprise and dismay,
there were none very recent, and those there were all pointed in the
opposite direction.  It was clear that no horseman had crossed to the
northern bank for some weeks past.

Baffled, he rode up and down stream to see if Goruba had avoided the
ford, and perhaps swum his horse across the river at some other
point.  While he was doing this Royce crossed at the ford, and
examined the ground on the opposite bank, and Challis sent some of
the men to scour the neighbourhood.

After a long search they had to confess utter failure.  In no
direction was there any trace of Goruba's horse.  Goruba had given
them the slip.

Gamba wept with disappointment.

"It's enough to make any one snivel," said Challis.  "What can have
become of the fellow?"

"Whatever it is, we are done brown," said Royce.  "It's no good
riding any farther; we might tumble among a whole swarm of Tubus.
And as it's getting late, we had better camp for the night, and then
go back and digest our disappointment as well as we can."

At this moment Gamba gave a succession of peculiar shrill whistles.

"What's that mean?" asked Royce.

Gambaru explained that the man was whistling for his horse, thinking
that Goruba had possibly left it some distance from the river and
swum across, so that hoof marks might not betray him.  But the
signals were ineffective, and Gamba wept again.

Retreating from the bank, they formed a camp on a sheltered hillside,
ate some of the food they had brought with them, and settled down for
the night, arranging for the men to keep watch in turn.  Nothing
disturbed them, and early in the morning they started back for the
fort.

On the way they caught sight of many stray Tubus making their way
towards the river.  These always slunk away when they saw the
Englishmen, who did not think it worth while to pursue them.  They
already had enough prisoners, and shrank from further bloodshed.

They reached the fort just before noon.  The fort itself had not been
occupied during the night.  John reported that the men had conceived
such a horror of it that they preferred to remain in the open.  The
Tubus had wholly disappeared.  Their failure and the flight of their
leader had broken their spirit.

Some of the victorious natives had already gone back to their homes
to relate how the dreaded Tubus had been defeated.

"We couldn't hope for anything better," said Royce.  "The whole
countryside will hear of it in a day or two; the prestige of the
Tubus will be utterly shattered, and the people won't be afraid of
them any longer.  I rather fancy they will keep to their own side of
the Yo in the future."

"If they do, we'll have done some good in the world," said Challis.
"But now, old man, I want to see Rabeh's hoard.  What's going to
happen to that?"

"Well, I suppose it is fair spoil of war, but I haven't given a
thought to the question as to what we shall do with it.  We'll have
to get it up and that will take some time; there's such a lot of it.
I'll take you down the well for a private view.  Then we'll have the
barrier removed from the entrance in the wood and get the men to
bring the stuff into the open."

They walked up the hill and climbed into the fort, where Challis was
interested to see the changes made during his absence.

"You ought to have been an officer in the Royal Engineers, Hugh," he
said.

Royce grinned.

"Don't be an ass!" was all he said.

They reached the well-room.

"Just wait up here until I get the door open," said Royce, as he
stepped over the coping and began to descend by the iron staples.

Challis leant over the edge, watching him.  Below, the depths of the
well were dark, and he could hear the slight gurgle of the spring at
the bottom.

"I say," came Royce's voice, "the door's open!  I left it shut.  One
of the men must have been prying, in spite of what John said about
their horror."

"You'll have to make an example of him!  Shall I come down?"

"Wait a bit.  My electric torch has given out.  Have you got a match?"

"Not one.  There's a box among our stores, though.  I'll get it and
bring it down to you."

He went to the room where the stores were kept.  Meanwhile Royce,
always impatient, passed through the opening in the wall and began to
creep slowly along the tunnel.

Challis, having found a box of matches, was returning to the well
when he was amazed to see a black, fuzzy head appear over the coping.
For a moment he imagined that it belonged to one of Royce's own men
whom he had routed out of the tunnel, but at a second glance he
realised his mistake.  The man's black cheeks bore Rabeh's telltale
scars.  It was Goruba.

[Illustration: GORUBA CLIMBS THE WELL]

With a shout, Challis dashed forward.  Goruba's shoulders were now
above the coping.  In his right hand he bore a knife, and his eyes
gleamed with rage.  Challis was unarmed.  His only chance was to deal
with the negro before he had fully emerged from the well.

Shooting out his right arm, he brought his fist with sledge-hammer
force upon Goruba's brow, between the eyes, just as the man was about
to launch himself over the coping.  The negro staggered back, lost
his balance, and fell head over heels into the well.  There was a
thud, then a splash--and then Royce's voice from the opening:

"What's the row, Tom?  When are you coming down with those matches?"



CHAPTER XXXIV

THE GREAT REWARD

Challis shuddered with horror as he realised how narrow Royce's
escape had been.  A moment later, and Royce must have been dashed
from his footing on the staple by the massive form of Goruba, and
have fallen, like him, to the bottom of the well.

"Hurry up, Tom!  What are you so long about, man?" Royce asked.

Challis leant over the coping.

"All right," he said, conscious that his voice was shaking.  "Just a
minute."

Pulling himself together, he set his foot on the first staple and
began to descend very slowly, not daring to look down into the black
depths.  He reached the hole in the wall, struck a match, lit a
candle end he had in his pocket, and followed Royce into the tunnel.

"What's up?" asked Royce.  "You're as white as a sheet.  Surely that
little bit of a climb didn't make you dizzy?"

"No, I'm all right.  Goruba's gone!"

"Gone?  What do you mean?  Of course he's gone."

"Down the well," said Challis, almost in a whisper.  "He was climbing
up with a knife.  I went for him, and he fell."

For a moment Royce was speechless with astonishment.  Then he said:

"But I don't understand.  Where did he come from?  He didn't pass me.
Are you sure it was Goruba?"

"Certain.  It was horrible."

"Poor old chap!  Look here, you're shaken.  Rest a bit while I go
down.  Perhaps the fellow isn't much hurt."

He took the candle from Challis's hand and went carefully down by the
staples to the bottom of the well.  There, huddled in a pool of
water, lay all that was left of the gigantic negro.  He was quite
dead.  It was clear that in his descent he had struck the stone slab
projecting into the well.  His neck was broken.

Awed by this strange tragedy, puzzled at the presence of Goruba here,
Royce climbed up again and rejoined his friend.

"The poor wretch is dead," he said.  "What an extraordinary fatality!
He must have been in the darkness below.  But what could he have been
doing there?"

Together they sat on the stone floor with the candle between them.
For some time neither spoke.

"I see part of the explanation," said Challis at last.  "When he
escaped from us he must have guessed that we should continue the
pursuit, and slipped back at full speed to secure his treasure, or
some of it, in our absence."

"The ruling passion!" said Royce.  "Yes, that's it.  But still I
don't understand why he was down the well.  If I had met him in the
tunnel, now, there would have been no mystery about it."

"Perhaps he was in the room above, saw us coming, and came down to be
out of our way."

"Ah! and to follow us through the tunnel and stab us in the back.
That's it, to a certainty.  Your going back for the matches saved our
lives, Tom."

"We've a lot to be thankful for," said Challis.

"We have indeed! ... Now for Rabeh's hoard, old man."

They went along the tunnel, found the slab in the floor, lifted it,
and made their way into the cave.  Challis gasped when he saw the
immense array of tusks.

"They are worth a fortune," he said.  "No wonder Goruba wanted to
drive us out."

"He has been moving things!" exclaimed Royce.  "That row at the end
there isn't as I left it.  At least a dozen tusks are gone.  I wonder
what he has done with them.  Let us go on to the farther entrance."

But halfway through the narrow tunnel beyond they found the path
blocked.  From floor to roof the tunnel was choked with a mass of
earth, plants, and trees.

"The roof has fallen in," said Royce, scanning the obstruction by the
light of the candle.  "Things are becoming clearer.  Look!  Here's a
tusk.  Goruba must have been carrying it, or lugging it, for it's
tremendously heavy, when the ground above sank.  That accounts for
his being at the other end.  We shall have to go back, enter from the
wood, and get our men to clear the rubbish away."

They retraced their steps, and rejoining their men, led a party of
them into the wood.

"Here's a horse tethered!" cried Challis.  "I wonder if it is
Gamba's."

He sent Gambaru back to fetch the man, who the moment he caught sight
of the horse yelled with delight, threw his arms round the animal's
neck, and allowed it to rub its nose over his back.  Then he sprang
into the saddle.

"Not so fast," cried Royce, catching at the bridle.  "Tell him I
can't let him go yet, Gambaru.  We must have a talk first.  Keep him
safe until I have time to attend to him."

He took the men on to the concealed entrance.  Goruba had patiently
removed the material with which it had been blocked up.  Leading the
men to the spot where the subsidence had occurred, Royce ordered them
to clear away the rubbish and then report to him.

"Now we must find the tusks he removed," he said to Challis.  "I
daresay they are hidden somewhere in the undergrowth."

But though a hundred men spent hours in searching the wood, no trace
of the tusks was discovered.  It was not until later in the day that
the mystery was solved.  Some of the negroes, who had gone down to
the stream to fetch water for their evening meal, came running back
in great excitement.  They had seen two long, yellow tusks gleaming
through the water.  Royce at once went to the stream with a number of
Hausas, who hauled out the tusks, and after searching for some time
found ten others concealed under the bank.

Meanwhile the tunnel had been cleared, and Challis superintended the
men as they brought the whole treasure out into the open air.  Some
of them knew that the ivory was very valuable, others were more
interested in the useless objects, like the kepi, a rusty sword or
two, and particularly a gilt mirror, in which they examined their
smiling features with great delight.

When the cave was cleared, Royce put John in charge of the treasure
and sent for Gamba.

"I am going to let you return to your chief," he said.  "You will
take him a message from me.  Goruba is dead.  He lies at the bottom
of the well in the fort.  Your people may fetch him, if they will.
He coveted this treasure, which was stolen, I have no doubt, by his
master Rabeh.  It is now mine.

"You will tell your chief all that has happened, how we have beaten
his men in fair fight, how their man Goruba has met his death through
greed.  You will tell him that we will fight his men again if they
come to this side of the Yo.  These people are no longer afraid of
the Tubus.  They mean to be left in peace.  Tell your chief that.

"We have taken some forty Tubus prisoners.  We shall keep them until
your chief sends word that he will do as I say, and keep his men from
raiding on this side of the river.  The country here belongs to the
Great White King, and if your people do wrong again, the Great White
King will send men with big medicine to punish you.  Now you may go,
and remember my words."

Gambaru translated this solemnly, sentence by sentence, and Gamba
listened gravely.  When he had permission to go, he leapt upon his
horse, gave a shrill whistle, and galloped away to the north.

"I hope the Tubus have learnt their lesson," said Royce to Challis.
"Now what are we to do with this ivory?  I suppose it is booty,
fairly won in war, but we ought to go shares with the crowd."

"You mean turn it into money?"

"Yes, though money will be no good to the negroes.  The first thing,
at any rate, is to carry it to the coast.  I think our Tubu prisoners
might do that for us.  We'll sell it, and consult somebody, a
missionary perhaps, as to what we can best do for the people."

"What about the tin mine?"

"Well, we shall simply have to come back again.  It's a terrible loss
of time, but, after all, we're in no hurry to be rich, and if we have
managed to secure the peace of this country we shan't regret our
trouble.  Don't you agree with me?"

"With all my heart.  It's a sort of lesson to us, Hugh.  We came out
thinking only of ourselves, and in this strange way we have been led
to think of others.  It's a fine thing to have been able to do some
good in the world."

Next day the whole company set off for the south, the Tubus being
laden with the ivory.  It was a sort of triumphal progress for the
Englishmen.  The tale of their doings had already been carried
through the country, and at every village through which they passed
the people could not do enough to show their gratitude.

The party grew smaller every day as men broke away to rejoin their
own people.  When the coast was reached, after weeks of toilsome
marching, the Englishmen had with them only their Hausa boys, the
Tubu prisoners, and a few men from various tribes who clung to them
because they wished to see the strange and wonderful things about
which the Hausas had told them.

The ivory fetched £3000, a sum much in excess of what the Englishmen
had expected.  Royce, who had plenty of money, refused to accept any
part of the proceeds for himself.  Challis, after some consideration,
decided that £1000 would come in very useful in buying machinery for
his tin mine.

They happened to meet a medical missionary and his wife who had just
arrived from England.  To them they handed over £2000 on condition
that they would use it for the good of the natives south of the Yo.
And when, after a month's rest, they returned to the scene of their
adventures, they were accompanied by the missionaries and a new band
of Hausa boys, with John again as headman.  The old band felt so rich
on the generous pay they had received that they meant to retire from
business, at least for a time.

John treated them with contempt.

"Plenty silly chaps," he said.  "Dey hab got lots of cash; me savvy
all same.  What dey do?  Spend, spend, spend all time.  Bimeby all
gone.  What do den, sah?  Dey want 'nother massa; no can find one.
Dey go sick.  Wah!  Me hab got good massa; me savvy all dat, sure
'nuff."

When Royce and Challis were last heard of they were working a rich
tin mine, with two hundred contented negro labourers in their
employment.  A little settlement had sprung up in the midst of the
great plain, with two large bungalows, one for Royce and Challis, the
other for the missionary and his wife, and a number of neat grass
huts for the labourers and their families.

The country in their immediate neighbourhood was troubled no more by
the Tubus.  A brisk trade grew up between their settlement and the
surrounding villages, and once a year the people for miles around go
in procession to visit the white men, carrying presents for the
strangers who saved them from the raiders and brought peace and
prosperity to the countryside.



THE END



HERBERT STRANG'S STORIES

_SOME OPINIONS_

"I envy the boy or girl who is given a Herbert Strang book....  Mr.
Strang's powers of invention are great.  One is hurried along
breathlessly from one adventure to another, till we are left gasping
at the end of the jolly narrative....  Mr. Strang's books are full of
the qualities to which boys--and girls--should aspire.  Reading him,
an older, less adventurous person 'lives by admiration.'"--KATHARINE
TYNAN.

"The intellectual level of boys' stories has been materially raised
by Mr. Strang, and at the same time he has infused into them a
stronger human interest than the old writers did.  The gain is an
all-round one....  Mr. Strang has brought the boys' story up to the
same level of artistic effort and realisation as the high-class
novel."--JAMES BURNLEY.

"We rejoice to find that among the crowd of money-makers who produce
as if by machinery the standard book for boys, there are still some
who realise that because only a boy is to read a book it need not
therefore be careless, and because the boy will be without experience
the book need not therefore be impossible."--THE OUTLOOK.

"Mr. Strang's books suggest a standard by which very few writers of
boys' books will bear being judged.  The majority of them are content
to provide their young friends with mere reading--Herbert Strang
offers them literature."--THE GLASGOW HERALD.



A FEW STIRRING ROMANCES

BY HERBERT STRANG



The Air Patrol

A Story of the North-West Frontier.

Illustrated in colour by CYRUS CUNEO.

In this book Mr. Strang looks ahead--and other books have already
proved him a prophet of surprising skill--to a time when there is a
great Mongolian Empire whose army sweeps down on the North-West
Frontier of India.  His two heroes luckily have an aeroplane, and
with the help of a few Pathan miners they hold a pass in the Hindu
Kush against a swarm of Mongols, long enough to prevent the cutting
of the communications of the Indian army operating in Afghanistan.
The qualities which marked Mr. Strang's story, "The Air Scout," and
won extraordinarily high commendation from Lord Roberts, Lord Curzon,
and others, as well as from the _Spectator_ and other great journals,
are again strikingly displayed; and the combination of thrilling
adventure with an Imperial problem and excellent writing, adds one
more to this author's long list of successes.

"An exceptionally good book, written moreover in excellent
style."--_Times_.

"'The Air Patrol' is really a masterpiece."--_Morning Post_.



The Air Scout

A Story of National Defence.

Illustrated in Colour by W. R. S. STOTT.

The problems of National Defence are being discussed with more and
more care and attention, not only in Great Britain, but also in all
parts of the Empire.  In this story Mr. Strang imagines a Chinese
descent upon Australia, and carries his hero through a series of
exciting adventures, in which the value of national spirit,
organisation, and discipline is exemplified.  The important part
which the aeroplane will play in warfare is recognised, and the
thousands of readers who have delighted in the author's previous
stories of aviation will find this new book after their own heart.

LORD ROBERTS wrote:--"It is capital reading, and should interest more
than boys.  Your forecast is so good that I can only hope the future
may not bring to Australia such a struggle as the one you so
graphically describe."

LORD CURZON writes:--"I have read with great pleasure your book, 'The
Air Scout.'  It seems to me to be a capital story, full of life and
movement: and further, it preaches the best of all secular gospels,
patriotism and co-operation."

"We congratulate Mr. Strang on this fine book--one of the best
fighting stories we have read."--_Morning Post_.



The Adventures of Dick Trevanion

A story of 1804.

Illustrated in Colour by W. RAINEY, R.I.

The Trevanions are a Cornish family whose fortunes have fallen very
low through the working-out of their tin mines and the scheming of a
relative who bears a grudge against the head of the house.  In this
story, dated in the early years of the 19th century, the author
weaves together various strands: the war with Napoleon, the
operations of smugglers, the machinations of the schemer, and the
change in the fortunes of the family which ensued upon various
alarums and excursions.

"This is a story after a boy's heart, treating of smugglers and
family feuds and French privateers."--_Spectator_.



Humphrey Bold:

His Chances and Mischances by Land and Sea.

Illustrated In Colour by W. H. MARGETSON.

In this story are recounted the many adventures that befell Humphrey
Bold of Shrewsbury, from the time when, a puny slip of a boy, he was
befriended by Joe Punchard, the cooper's apprentice (who nearly shook
the life out of his tormentor, Cyrus Vetch, by rolling him down the
Wyle Cop in a barrel), to the day when, grown into a sturdy young
giant, he sailed into Plymouth Sound as first lieutenant of the
_Bristol_ frigate.  The intervening chapters teem with exciting
incidents, telling of sea-fights with that redoubtable privateer
Duguay Trouin; of Humphrey's escape from a French prison; of his
voyage to the West Indies and all the perils he encountered there.

"Mr. Strang is undoubtedly the best writer of this class of story
that we have to-day.  He has never done anything better than
'Humphrey Bold.'"--_Newcastle Chronicle_.

"Undoubtedly one of the strongest historical stories we ever remember
to have read."--_Schoolmaster_.



Palm Tree Island.

Illustrated in Colour by ARCHIBALD WEBB.

In this story two boys are left on a volcanic island in the South
Seas, destitute of everything but their clothes.  The story relates
how they provided themselves with food and shelter, with tools and
weapons; how they fought with wild dogs and sea monsters; and how,
when they have settled down to a comfortable life under the shadow of
the volcano, their peace is disturbed by the advent of savages and a
crew of mutinous Englishmen.  The savages are driven away; the
mutineers are subdued through the boys' ingenuity; and they
ultimately sail away in a vessel of their own construction.  In no
other book has the author more admirably blended amusement with
instruction.

"Written so well that there is not a dull page in the book."--_The
World_.



Rob the Ranger:

A Story of the Fight for Canada.

With Illustrations in Colour and Maps.

Rob Somers, son of an English settler in New York State, sets out
with Lone Pete, a trapper, in pursuit of an Indian raiding party
which has destroyed his home and carried off his younger brother.  He
is captured and taken to Quebec, where he finds his brother in
strange circumstances, and escapes with him in the dead of the
winter, in company with a little band of stout-hearted New Englanders.

General Baden-Powell, in recommending books to the Boy Scouts, places
"Rob the Ranger" first among the great scouting stories.



One of Clive's Heroes

A Story of the Fight for India

With Illustrations in Colour and Maps.

Desmond Burke goes out to India to seek his fortune, and is sold by a
false friend of his, one Marmaduke Diggle, to the famous Pirate of
Gheria.  But he escapes, runs away with one of the Pirate's own
vessels, and meets Colonel Clive, whom he assists to capture the
Pirate's stronghold.  His subsequent adventures on the other side of
India--how he saves a valuable cargo for his friend Mr. Merriman, and
assists Clive in his fights against Sirajuddaula--are told with great
spirit and humour.

"An absorbing story....  The narrative not only thrills, but also
weaves skilfully out of fact and fiction a clear impression of our
fierce struggle for India."--_Athenæum_.





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