CHAPTER XIV
The Siege of Barega's
The Arab Camp--A Balista--A Vain Appeal--Eureka--Cutting a Channel--TheEleventh Hour--Barega's Last Fight--After the Battle
Tom's premonitions were well founded; on awaking next morning he sawthat the whole accessible part of the village was blockaded by a chainof posts extending from the north gate to the south-east corner. Thebanana plantations on the south side appeared to be occupied in force,and the object of the enemy was clearly to prevent any going in orcoming out, and so to starve the villagers into submission. NaturallyTom congratulated himself on his foresight in stocking the village withfood, and expressed to the chief his confident hope that the besiegerswould tire.
That their intentions were serious was soon evident. Early in themorning a large gang of Manyema were observed, nearly half a mile up thehill, engaged in damming up the stream, and diverting its course fromthe village away to the left Tom turned to the katikiro, who happened tobe by his side, and smilingly pointed out what the enemy were doing. Thekatikiro was never loth to laugh, and he fairly bubbled over, slappinghis thighs and chuckling with infinite enjoyment.
"How mad they will be," thought Tom, "when they find that we can managewithout water! The man who planted this village round a constant springwas a genius. Besides, they must know there's plenty of water in theditch at present, not very palatable, perhaps, but enough to keep usalive."
He wondered where the enemy had fixed their main camp. Those of them whocame within sight were for the most part Manyema, and it occurred to Tomthat perhaps the Arabs had departed for a time, to return withreinforcements of their own race. However, on the third night of thesiege a Muhima managed to creep out without attracting the attention ofthe besiegers, and returned after being absent about three hours, withinformation that relieved Tom's mind on that point. He discovered thatthe Arabs had formed an entrenched camp in a green hollow at the foot ofthe precipice at the north-east corner of the village. They hadevidently noticed that by moving in close to the base of the cliffs theywere protected by the overhanging spur from the weapons of the Bahima,as well as from any other missiles, such as rocks or fireballs, thatmight be hurled from above. They had placed their camp so that anyprojectiles thus cast at them would fall outside their eastern boundary,and their rampart and trench were sufficiently formidable to secure themagainst assault. The position had the further advantage that the cliffprotected them from the prevailing wind, while they had a good supply ofwater from a stream that joined the village stream a few hundred yardsbelow the precipice. Some little distance to the south, where the groundrose steeply, a large body of their slave carriers had been penned likecattle, under a strong guard. The Muhima said that the chief campcontained some fifteen hundred Arabs, a number which Tom thought mightsafely be divided by three.
Several days passed away, most wearisomely for the two thousand peopleshut up within the stockade. While in time of peace, with menconstantly away on hunting expeditions and women working in the fields,the village was never offensively over-populated, yet now that all thepeople were necessarily at home, with more than the usual number ofcattle, Tom feared that it would before long be a hot-bed of fever. Thepeople, he had found, were always accustomed to allow calves and otheryoung animals to sleep in their own huts along with their families, butit was quite unusual, even for them, to be cooped up constantly withfull-grown beasts. He did what he could to make the conditions aslittle unfavourable to health as possible; but not much was in hispower, and he fretted at his impotence.
The besiegers had clearly abandoned all ideas of an assault in force,but every now and then a bullet or a slug would whistle over thestockade, and more than one man was killed. Tom got the chief at lengthto forbid any of the people to show themselves, and, accustomed as theywere to a free and open life, they were greatly irritated by therestriction. Seeing that something must be done to keep them ingood-humour, Tom took advantage of their love of novelty and theiramazing fondness for drill to instruct them for an hour or two every dayin simple movements and formations, finding that they were quite contentto continue drilling on their own account for hours at a stretch.
As time went on, the besiegers were amazed at the unconcern with whichthe stoppage of the water-supply had been received in the village, andcame to the conclusion that the people must have been drawing on thestagnant and dirty water in the ditch. One morning, then, Tom, whonever relaxed his vigilance, saw a body of men approaching under coverof a light palisade lined with skins of Hima oxen, which effectuallyprotected them from the spears and arrows of the villagers. He was notlong left in doubt about the object they had in view. They came rightup to the ditch, and began to cut a channel where the ground sloped downto the east, so as to drain off the water.
Tom was in no anxiety about the loss of water, but he objected to being"done", as he put it to himself, and yet, in default of firearms, saw nomeans of preventing the enemy from effecting their purpose. Fortunatelya tremendous downpour of rain, forerunner of the approaching rainyseason, drove the Arabs away for that time, and Tom at once set his witsto work to defeat their scheme should they return. Thinking of one thingafter another, all at once he remembered, in an old illustrated editionof Caesar he had used in a lower form at school, some engravings of thetorments used by the Romans in their siege operations. There was thecatapult--ah! and the balista; that was the very thing. Could he manageto rig up a balista before the ditch was effectually drained? It wasworth trying.
"Good heavens! what it is to be without pencil and paper!" he groaned.But he managed with a spear-head to scratch on a stone a rough diagramof the machine, as nearly as he remembered it, and then immediately setto work to construct a model.
There was plenty of wood in the village, and it took very little time tohammer together the square framework, and to chisel out the grooved beamon which the missile was to run. While this was being done he set someof the Bairo to twist two many-stranded ropes, and the native smiths toforge an iron handle for his winch. When this was fixed in its place atthe bottom of the grooved plank, and the ropes securely fastened at eachside of the frame, he placed one of the fireballs in front of the crossrope on the plank, sloped this downwards at an angle of forty-fivedegrees, and drew the rope back by means of the winch until it wasstretched to its utmost tension and almost as tight as a steel spring.Then he released his hold of the handle, it flew round, the spring wassuddenly relaxed, and the ball shot along the groove and over thestockade, falling some ten yards beyond.
"I'll have a welcome ready for the Arabs if they return," he thought,delighted at the success of his experiment.
Some three hours after the downpour had ceased, the Arabs came back instronger force, again bearing their palisades. Tom allowed them toarrive within five yards of the trench, and then let fly a piece of rockfrom his balista. A tremendous cheer arose from the crowd of wonderingnegroes as the missile sped with sure aim to the very middle of thepalisade, with such force that it tore a hole through skin andwicker-work, and struck a man behind.
The Arabs were startled, as they might well be, and halted. Before theyhad made up their minds what to do, another missile struck the palisade,and ricochetted across it, inflicting a blow on one of the Arabs thatwould have killed him if its force had not been partly broken. Anotherstone, and another, and then the enemy hesitated no longer; they droppedtheir palisade, flung down their tools, and bolted for their lives.Mocking jeers and exultant laughter followed them, and then a shower ofarrows, and four or five of them dropped. Tom ordered his men to ceaseshooting, and allowed the wounded to be carried off by their friends.
That was the last attempt the enemy made to take the offensive. Theyhad clearly recognized by this time that they had a more formidableantagonist to deal with than the average native of Central Africa. Tom,indeed, had freely exposed himself to their marksmen throughout theoperations, and had had more than one narrow escape, as we
ll as the oneslight wound in the arm, which gave him no concern. They could scarcelyhave failed to perceive that they had to reckon with a European ofdetermination and resource, and from that time on they contentedthemselves with a strict investment. They rounded-up what cattle theycould lay their hands on, and, having the banana and other plantationsof the villagers to draw upon, they lived luxuriously without consumingthe provisions they had themselves brought. They could thus afford toplay a waiting game.
Within the village, however, things were becoming unpleasant, nay,dangerous. The sanitary arrangements, at any time crude and imperfect,were unequal to the necessities of the case, and one or two cases ofsickness had already occurred. The strain upon the fortitude of thepeople was proving more than it could bear. After three weeks thefood-supply began to run short, and the daily rations were diminished,amid murmurings from the Bairo. A week later it was found necessary bythe chief to order the slaughter of several of the much-prized cattle.Now that it had come to this pass, the Bairo were bound to suffer most,for, living as they did for the most part on fruits and grain, the stockof which was well-nigh exhausted, they were without the resources of theBahima, and were earlier in straits for food.
Early in the fifth week of the siege Tom begged the chief to call apalaver. Barega had displayed qualities of patience and endurance whichwon Tom's unbounded admiration. From the beginning of the siege heseemed to have recognized that his only chance of successful resistancewas to trust in the ingenuity and prudence of his blood-brother, and hehad sunk his own pre-eminence without a shade of jealousy. No doubtthis was in great measure due to Tom's own tactfulness. He took nosteps without consulting the chief, and he had that invaluable facultywhich enables a man to get his own way without the other partysuspecting it. Barega, therefore, willingly called a council, andshowed his readiness to listen to anything his brother had to say.
"Barega and my brothers," Tom began, "we have held out so long, and weare not going to give in." (Grunts of applause.) "But we cannot shutour eyes to the fact that we are in sore straits. Our food will lastbut a few days more, and then, without help, we must starve. Now, ifour enemies had no firearms, Barega and I together would lead you out ofthe village and attack them. But we cannot cope with their weapons, andif we made the attempt it would surely fail. Is it impossible to obtainhelp from outside? Are there no villages within reach whose people havesuffered at the hands of the Arabs, and would aid us against the commonenemy? Brothers, it is for you to speak."
The katikiro at once replied that there were three villages within aradius of thirty miles which certainly had suffered by the Arabs'depredations and might possibly be able to lend assistance. One ofthem, however, Barega reminded the assembly, was ruled by a chief whowas extremely jealous of his power, and would not be much inclined toput himself out on any such matter. Still, it could be tried. Baregathen selected three of his fleetest runners, and two hours before dawn,under a moonless sky, they were sent out singly from the north gate.
When morning broke, Tom was called from his hut by furious cries in thevillage. Hastening out, he soon understood the cause of the uproar.Outside the stockade, just beyond arrow-range, a big Manyema wasparading before the eyes of the villagers, holding a spear aloft, and onthe end of it was the bleeding head of one of the three runners. Behindhim marched a crowd of mocking negroes, pointing derisively to theimpaled head, and shouting threats at the enraged villagers. Tommentally registered that as one more atrocity for which the Arabs wouldsome day have to pay, and then did his best to pacify the people.
The other two runners, as it turned out, had been lucky enough to getthrough the enemy's lines undetected. They both returned on thefollowing night. One of them announced that Barega's rival had receivedhim with scorn and insult, and that he had barely escaped with his life.The other brought news that a raiding-party of Arabs, evidentlydespatched by the surrounding force, had surprised and burned theneighbouring village a few days before, and that the few inhabitants whohad escaped were hiding in the forest.
With this intelligence, it was impossible to disguise the fact that theoutlook was gloomy in the extreme. It was hopeless to look for helpfrom outside, and from the inside it appeared that nothing could bedone. The rainy season had set in, and sickness had declared itselfunmistakeably, especially among the Bairo, who had all along been lesswell nourished than the Bahima. They were reduced now to a few handfulsof grain daily, and as they roamed about, the ribs showing through theirskin, they cast ravenous eyes at the few remaining cattle. Murmurs of"Give us food! give us food!" met the ears of Barega and his officers asthey went about, and some of the more violent of the poor people hadbegun again to listen to the half-lunatic ravings of the medicine-man,who, since his defeat, had sulked almost unnoticed in his hut. Evensome of the Bahima, talking among themselves, said that it would bebetter to submit to the enemy than to die of slow starvation. Thekatikiro, who through all the incidents of the siege had never lost hisfaith in Tom, informed him of these murmurs, and Tom impressed on Baregathat he must still them at once. The chief immediately summoned amass-meeting, and addressed his people in an impassioned speech. Whatwould their fate be, he asked, if they yielded? Nine-tenths of the menwould be butchered on the spot, along with all the older women and allwho were too infirm to stand the strain of marching in a slave-caravan.What would become of their younger women and children? Barega picturedthe line of miserable slaves, marching in chains at the mercy of theirbrutal captors, dropping and left to rot on the path; if they survivedthe march, to suffer tortures compared with which the fate of theirmurdered kinsfolk would be happy indeed. Let them choose, he cried, letthem choose freely; as for him, he would die in his village, fightinghis foe if so it might be; if not, still he would die a free man!
His burning words provoked a shout of approval from the throng, and thenTom stepped forward. A deep hush fell upon the assembly; every manthere felt a strange magnetic power in the young white man who had stoodby them and done them such good service.
"O Bahima and Bairo!" he cried, "brothers, all of you, do not give uphope. You have heard your brave chief; his words are the words of alion-heart. I tell you now that I believe we shall yet win. There is atown, in a far land belonging to the Great White King, which wasbesieged like this village for many long days, and where the peoplewaited and waited, hoping that at last their friends would come to theiraid and drive away the hordes besieging them. Their food was gone; theywere sick, aye, sick unto death; but did they give in? Know that thechildren of the Great White King never give in! No; they waited andfought, and some of them died, and then at last, far over the fields,they saw the spears of their friends advancing to help them, and theenemy melted away like mist in the sun, and they were saved! Let us waitalso, a little longer, my brothers!"
For a moment after he had ceased the silence was unbroken. Then thekatikiro sprang into the ring; his feelings could be played on like thenotes of an instrument; raising his spear aloft he cried "Muzungu willsave us! Kuboko will save us!" The crowd took up his cry, and Tom wastouched to the quick to see their haggard faces lit up once more withthe light of hope, and their wild eyes fixed on him as their expecteddeliverer.
That night he lay awake, thinking, thinking, racking his brains for somemeans of compelling the enemy to raise the siege and justifying theconfidence of the villagers. All the expedients that he had ever readof were passed in turn before his mind, only to be dismissed asimpracticable; the want of firearms and gunpowder was against them all.Then suddenly, by an inspiration seemingly quite unconnected with histrain of thought, a light flashed upon his mind. There was no need toweigh probabilities; the idea carried conviction with it. Crying "I haveit!" he sprang from his couch, waking Mbutu with a start.
"Come, Mbutu," he said, "a night's work and a day's waiting and then weshall be free. Come with me."
In pitch darkness, for the sky was heavy with threatening rain, theymade their way across the courtyard into the village,
past the silentreservoir and the swollen stream, up to the stockade above theprecipice. There they clambered over with infinite caution, lest theslightest sound should arouse the attention of the Arabs below. Feelingover the ground, they searched for the small aperture through which Tomhad thrust his stick when exploring the cavern. Tom was half afraidlest some shifting of the soil had covered it up; but after ten minutes'careful search Mbutu whispered that he had put his hand into it.Thrusting a stick into the hole to mark the spot, they hurried to thechief's hut. When Barega came out, rubbing his eyes, Tom asked him forthe services of twenty men, with baskets, spades, and bars of iron. Heasked him also to pretend to lead a sortie out of the south gate, and toorder his men to make as much noise as possible.
"Beat all your drums," he said; "clash all your pots and pans together;let the men yell their hardest, and keep up the din until I send youword."
Barega naturally asked what purpose was to be served by all this to-do,and what his brother would be about in the meantime. But Tom begged himto wait a little; he had a plan, he said. He would rather keep it tohimself until he was sure of its success, lest his brother should bedisappointed. The chief agreed to follow his instructions, and Tom lefthim.
Getting twenty of the strongest men together, he led them across thestockade, impressing on them that they must exercise the greatestcaution and hold their tongues. Arriving the hole, he selected four ofthe longest and strongest bars of iron and ordered the men to push themquietly for some distance into the narrow cleft. Then, when he gave theword, one man on the one side was to push and two men on the other topull at each bar, his aim being to widen the cleft into a practicablepassage. The bars had barely been inserted when the noise of drumsrolled over the stockade. A moment afterwards a great clashing andclanking startled the air, and wild cries from some hundreds of lustythroats woke echoes from rock and plantation. The sounds of hurriedmovement rose from the depths of the precipice; the Arab camp wasevidently alarmed; and then Tom gave the signal. The men pushed andpulled as he had directed, but in vain; the heavy rock refused to budge.Another man was told off to each bar, and again they put forth theirstrength; but still there was no sign of movement. The uproar from thevillage was greater than ever; there was little risk, after all, Tomthought, of his movements being heard; so he now ordered the men toexert all the force of which they were capable, regardless of noise. Theresult was startling. The whole of the ground; near the rock suddenlygave way and fell with a swish and thud into the cavern. Two of the menstumbled forward after it into the darkness, and knocked their shinsviolently against the rock. But they clambered up again, and Tom foundthat all the damage they had suffered was a few contusions.
BAREGA'S VILLAGE DURING THE SIEGE]
Tom now went, cautiously feeling his way, to the extreme verge of theprecipice, and, bidding his men keep silence, strained his ears to catchany sounds from below. There was not a murmur. He judged that theArabs had hastily left their camp and made their way up to the southgate to meet the anticipated attack. It appeared safe.
"Dig, men, dig!" he said.
The twenty Bahima began to dig a passage through the debris. Not a wordwas spoken. The din in the village was beginning to lull. Tomdespatched Mbutu with the request that the noise should be kept up. Thebaskets of earth, as they were filled, were carried to the stockade andemptied on the inside. The work went on as rapidly as possible in thedarkness, the men toiling with unabated zeal, sure that Kuboko, the manof big medicine, must have some excellent plan in view. Meanwhile thechief, finding the Arabs pressing close, and their rifle fire, erraticas it was, becoming dangerous, had withdrawn his sortie-party into thevillage; but the drums still maintained a tremendous din that must havebeen heard in the still night air for many miles.
Rather more than two hours had gone, and only the first part of the taskTom had in his mind was completed. A clear passage ten feet wide hadbeen cut from the summit of the cliff into the cavern. Ordering thepanting negroes to sit down and rest, Tom walked back the twelve feet tothe stockade, took a string of bush-rope from his pocket, and tying itto one of the palings, returned to his men. The straight line made bythe string lay in the direction of the tank. Then he set the men to diga trench along the line towards the stockade, making it ten feet wideand three deep. He ordered them to stop within a foot of the fencing,lest that should be loosened by the movement of the earth. This tookanother two hours, as nearly as Tom could judge. It was approachingthree o'clock in the morning, and there was still much to be done beforehis arrangements were complete. Thinking it wise to defer the rest ofhis operations, for which light was absolutely necessary, he dismissedthe men, returned to the village, and sent word to the chief that theweary drummers might now take their well-earned rest.
Then he unfolded his scheme to the wondering chief. The Arab camp atthe foot of the precipice was, it was true, secure from missiles hurledover the spur; but it was immediately below the cavern. Tom's plan wasto let the water from the full reservoir suddenly into the cavern, andhe calculated that the force it gained as it plunged thence over theprecipice would be sufficient to work havoc below. The reservoir waseighty yards long and sixty wide; its depth was more than six feet; theweight of the water it contained was thus some seven thousand tons. Bythe time this immense quantity, gathering impetus as it fell, reachedthe camp two hundred feet beneath its outlet, the dynamic energy itwould have acquired would be tremendous. The plan threw Barega intowild excitement, and he was eager to see it carried out at once; but Tomsmilingly informed him that there was work still to be done, and,thanking him for so admirably making a noise, advised him to retire tohis hut and finish his broken sleep.
Next day the whole village knew that Kuboko had some terrifically bigmedicine in preparation, though none but the chief as yet knew what itwas. Tom had many times to drive away the crowd of little half-starvedchildren who came about him, looking up into his face with admirationand awe. There was still a trench to be dug from the reservoir to thestockade, but as the village was exposed to the Arabs on the upperground to the south, no digging could be done during the day. Rain fellheavily, and Tom hoped almost against hope that it would cease beforenight, and that some glimmer of moonlight would enable him then tocomplete his preparations. During the day, however, he was not idle. Heemployed the same men who had so intelligently constructed his balistain making the rough semblance of the two doors of a river lock, eachfive feet wide and six feet deep. When finished, the edge of each waspierced with a red-hot bar of iron in three places at equal distancesapart. Then the two doors were stitched together with bush rope throughthe holes, and the seam was covered with cloth well plastered withkaolin, the cloth being made to adhere to the wood with glue extractedfrom the bones of oxen. Wood was getting short in the village, but Tom,after some search, found four stout balks which he laid aside for futureuse.
Well pleased with his morning's work, he slept all the afternoon, andthen, as soon as it was dark, set eight hundred men and women diggingthe trench to connect the tank with the trench outside the stockade. Heplaced them at various points along the line of twenty yards, so thatthe work might be quickly carried out, and nearest the tank left a bankthree feet thick untouched. When the trench was so far complete, he letdown at the end three feet from the tank the twin hatchway he hadconstructed, so that it completely blocked the channel, and shored it upwith the four balks of timber, two to each panel. Round the lower endof these he got his men to fasten strong ropes, the other ends of whichhe tied to posts driven into the ground above.
It was now, he judged, about eleven o'clock. The rain had ceased, andin three hours the new moon would rise. Dismissing the great body of theworkers, with orders that a small gang of them should remain withincall, he took the chief aside to make final arrangements. As the edgeof the moon appeared over the horizon, Barega was to muster four hundredmen at the south gate, and the katikiro two hundred at the north gate.Tom surmised that when the avalanche of wate
r descended upon their camp,the Arabs would in their flight rush for safety to the higher ground oneither side. They would probably be unarmed, and should fall an easyprey to the Bahima. Those who were encamped round the village and inthe banana plantation would naturally run to the assistance of theirfriends, and would take the paths around the south end of the village.Three hundred of the four hundred Bahima there placed would take them inflank, the remaining hundred were to attack the fugitives from the camp,who would be assailed at the same time by the party from the north.Thinking out all these details carefully, Tom saw the possibility of ahitch should the Arabs become alarmed before he was ready; but heimpressed upon Barega and the katikiro that they must entirely reversethe procedure of the previous night, and, instead of making as much dinas possible, enjoin the strictest silence on their men.
It only remained to scoop out the earth left between the tank and thetrench, and between the end of the outer trench and the stockade. Someten feet of the fencing was quietly removed to facilitate operations;then the reserve gang was called up, and in about an hour the work wasdone. The scooping at the tank end was a delicate task, for Tom did notwish to lose any lives by drowning. The last thin wall of earth betweenthe boards and the reservoir was pushed down with long poles, and thewater, flowing into the trench, was checked by the hatchway. Beyondthat there was a clear course through a channel five feet wide and sixdeep to the arch of the cavern, and that was perpendicularly above thecamp. Tom sent Mbutu to see that the sortie-parties were ready, loosedthe ends of the ropes about the posts, and placed four strong men ateach. His arrangements were complete.
Now that the critical moment was so near at hand Tom's heart in spite ofhimself beat with almost audible thuds. There was the huge reservoir,the surface of the water just discernible, only a gentle ripple on itssurface indicating its recent disturbance. In a few short moments thatplacid pond was to become an impetuous torrent, rushing downward withall the force of its seven thousand tons, nothing to check it, nothingto prevent it from dealing death to the men below. As his vividimagination conjured up the scene at the base of the precipice, andcontrasted it with the peaceful scene above, Tom felt a pang, a touch ofpity and remorse, a shuddering reluctance to launch so many miserablewretches into eternity. But that inward vision dissolved, and anothertook its place. He saw once more the long caravan of slaves, the gaunt,chained figures, with the wild, hunted look, the terrible lash of theirmasters provoking shrieks answered by redoubled blows, the horriblemutilations inflicted on weak women and children. There rang in hisears once more the piteous cry of a poor slave woman who for sometrivial offence was led away to be slaughtered: "Oh, my lord, oh, mymaster! Oh, my lord, oh, my master!" He felt a rush of hot blood tohis face, a flush of shame that such things should be. He rememberedthat such treatment would be measured out to Barega's people if theArabs captured the village, and thought with a solemn sense of awe ofthe strange chain of events which had made him so potent a factor in thelife and safety of these black people. It was life against life--theArabs were a pest--and he set his lips and hardened his heart.
Then, looking towards the horizon, he saw the ruddy horn of the moonemerging. Ten minutes passed; he could see dimly the outlines of thetrees.
"Now!" he whispered, with an outward calm that gave no clue to hisintense emotion. The sixteen men heaved at the ropes; the balks oftimber fell; the weight of water falling on the unsupported hatchwaydrove it inwards; and in ten seconds more the torrent swept with a dullroar into the cavern. Then, with a crash that seemed to shake the cliffto its foundations, the enormous mass of loose rock hiding the mouth ofthe cavern was driven over the edge. Even above the roar and splashrose the cries of the hapless men beneath, and then from each end of thecamp came, as though in mocking answer, the exultant shouts of thewarriors hastening to assail their foe. A few rifle shots rang out, butthe rush of the Bahima was irresistible. They were famished, they werefighting for their lives and liberty, and, dashing down the slopes tonorth and south, they fell without mercy or respite upon their shakenfoes.
Demoralized, leaderless, unarmed, the Arabs and Manyema below wererushing hither and thither like scared sheep, unable to act, unable tothink. The force in the plantations above, catching the panic,scattered at the first onslaught of the Bahima, who, with spears andknives and every kind of weapon, were strewing the ground with dead.One little group, holding close together under their leader, camerushing across the path of the Bahima chief at the head of his men.Barega lifted his spear to strike, but the Arab leader, at four paces'distance, fired his pistol at him point-blank, and he fell. The nextinstant the Arab was transfixed with a dozen spears, but the gallantchief, shot through the breast, had fought his last fight. His menrushed on, pursuing the enemy with savage cries, and the chief, liftinghimself painfully upon his elbow, saw that he was alone. A few secondslater, Tom, his task on the bluff finished, came hasting with Mbutu andhis sixteen men to assist in the fight. Many bodies lay scattered proneon the ground, but among them he saw one man in a half-sitting posture.
"Kuboko! Kuboko, my brother!"
Tom heard the faint cry, started, and turned aside. He had but justtime to grip the outstretched hand; then Barega heaved a sigh and died.Tom stood looking down at his dead friend, for, during the months theyhad been so strangely thrown together, he had come to look upon thesimple, heathen African as a true friend. Thoughts of what he owed tothe negro passed through his mind; he felt deeply sorry that Barega wasnever to enjoy the fruits of the victory for which they had workedtogether. "Poor fellow!" he murmured; then, gulping down the lump inhis throat, he went on.
The tide of battle, if battle it could be called, had meanwhile rolledonwards. All unconscious of the death of their chief, the Bahima speddown into the plain, hunting the fugitives like wild beasts, trackingthem in the moonlight like sleuth-hounds to places where they attemptedto hide. There were no prisoners, none merely wounded; the Bahima didtheir fell work thoroughly. Right into the outskirts of the forest theykept up the chase till, tired of the work of slaughter, they began tostraggle back to the village. All night long they continued to come inby twos and threes, some small parties even not arriving until afterdawn.
The scene when daylight broke was gruesome beyond belief. The tent ofthe Arab chief lay half-buried beneath a mass of broken rock in thecentre of a shallow pond. Many of the Arabs and Manyeina had perishedby the avalanche of earth and water, and scores had fallen to the spearsof the Bahima. The camp was half under water, and all kinds of articleswere floating about or showing above the surface, among them severalbarrels which Tom guessed to be filled with gunpowder. Rifles, pistols,spears, a medley of weapons and implements, were scattered all around,and outside the immediate circle of devastation many boxes and bags ofprovisions lay uninjured.
Walking down to the scene, sick at heart, and yet convinced that he hadonly done his duty, Tom came, within about five hundred yards of thechief's tent, upon an enclosure in which some four hundred slaves wereherded. It seemed that only by the merest chance could they haveescaped the massacre. They had in reality been saved by their position.Their enclosure had been placed where it was so that the free movementsof their masters round the village should not be impeded. Thus, whileexposed to the wind and weather, they had been out of the direct line ofthe Bahima's onslaught. Being chained and fenced in, they had beenunable to escape, and, indeed, their Manyema guards had stuck to theirposts till the last, and only fled when dawn showed them the fate oftheir friends. Tom at once gave orders that the fetters on these menand women should be knocked off, and that they should be taken under aguard into the village. They could there be fed, and it might bedecided subsequently what was to be done with them.
Tom then set a party of Bairo to recover from the water as many of theArabs' effects as possible, and another to search the surroundingcountry for any traces of Hima cattle which had escaped the Arabs. Hewas about to order another gang to bury the dead, but remembered thatthe peop
le who had died in the village before the arrival of the Arabshad not been buried, but taken out into the open to be eaten by thebeasts of the field. Only the chief's body was usually buried, and allthat was left of Barega had already been carried into the village toawait solemn interment in the ground below his hut. Ordering thevillagers to remove the dead to a distance, and to leave them exposed onthe plain, Tom returned dead-beat to his hut, and threw himself downupon his couch.
Tom Burnaby: A Story of Uganda and the Great Congo Forest Page 16