Settlers and Scouts: A Tale of the African Highlands

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH--Ferrier Insists

  There were long faces among the men when they heard what was expected ofthem. Night was terrible to them. They were low-spirited, and John hadto refrain from stimulating them with a full meal; there would be dangerin lighting fires. But he promised them a feast when the work was done.To march silently, to keep together, to do exactly what they were told:that was the sum of his exhortation. When he left them to consider it,some grumbled, others talked of slinking away. But one reminded themthat these wasungu had slain lions and rhinoceros, why should they notslay bad men too? And they kept their promises: if they said thereshould be a feast, a feast there would certainly be. So they tookcomfort, and began to talk bravely of the deeds they would do.

  Before they set forth, John set Bill to gather some bundles of dry grassand press them tight. Then he asked Said Mohammed to spare him aquantity of the methylated spirit he had brought for cooking. He pouredsome of this into his pocket-flask from the Bengali's tin can.

  "You will remain here, Said Mohammed," he said. "I shall leave five orsix men who have most felt the strain of marching."

  "Respectfully, sir, that is against the grain. I go where honour calls.Never say die. I gird up my loins and follow into thick of the fray."

  "All right. Just as you please. Keep close to us, that's all."

  "I will stick closer than a brother, sir."

  Some few minutes past ten o'clock, under a sky whose blackness wasscarce broken by the stars, John and the Wanderobbo led the way out ofthe camp, each carrying a bundle of dried grass. Immediately behindthem marched Said Mohammed, then Coja and the rest of the men in singlefile, Ferrier bringing up the rear. They moved silently, and thehalf-dozen men left behind in the camp, peering out through the boma,neither saw nor heard them when the last man was a dozen yards away.

  John did not try to find the track of his former journey. It was toodark to see it. Bill might have discovered it by his wonderfully keensense of touch, but there was no need. All they had to do was to marchdue west until they struck the stream; then to hug its bank until theyarrived at the elephant grass.

  It was slow work, and not without its anxieties for the white men. Everynow and then John heard a gulping sound behind, and knew that some onewas afraid. Once or twice he halted. The men's hard breathing spoke ofterror rather than effort. At such times he passed down the line,speaking quietly to reassure them; then, returning to the head, he bentto the ground and struck a match under his hat, to check the course byhis pocket-compass, and went on again. Once there was a rustling soundupon the left hand, and the scared negroes made clicks with theirmouths, and some would have run had not John, in a fierce whisper,called to them to stand, and asked whether they feared an antelope.

  They came at length to the stream, the gurgle of its waters making apleasant music in John's ears. Half the journey was done. So that hemight not come to the stream near the enemy's camp he had directed hiscourse somewhat south of his former line; and it was a long marchup-stream before they came to the elephant grass. John avoided thebrink, for fear of lurking crocodiles. Once he almost stumbled upon ahippopotamus asleep in the sedge, and thought it lucky he was at thehead of his men, whom the snort of the beast, as it rose and shambledaway into the darkness, might have infected with panic. He heaved asigh of relief as he came at last to the tall, thick grass standing highabove his head. Halting, he passed word down the line to tread evenmore cautiously and in even deeper silence, trusting that the rustlingwhich could scarcely be avoided would, if heard in the camp, seem to theenemy only the sound of animals moving in the grass. Then he went onagain.

  Peering out through the screen, he presently saw a dull glow somedistance to the right. There lay the camp; within the boma fires wereburning. Once more the party halted, and John, moving stealthily,sought Ferrier to consult with him.

  "I'm going to set fire to the boma," he said in a whisper. "When yousee the flames, fire off all your rifles and lead the men at a rush forthe camp. They can shout then like the army of Gideon. We'renorth-west of it; they'll be startled out of their sleep, and rush forthe gate on the south-west; at least I hope so."

  "You'd better let me fire the boma, John. You'll lead the men betterthan I should; they know you best. Besides, it's my turn."

  "Rubbish!" said John. "I've been here before."

  "But I can't miss the boma if I go straight ahead. I insist on it, oldchap; I'm sure it will be best. Hand over your grass and the spirit;I've got matches."

  "Your arm's not thoroughly sound yet."

  "All the more reason. It doesn't require much muscle to strike a match.Come on; it must be past midnight; there's no time to lose."

  John gave him the materials somewhat reluctantly. Ferrier pressed hishand and slid away into the darkness. Time passed very slowly. The mengrew fidgety; John heard the strange gulping in their throats, and thelittle noises they made as they moved worried him, lest they were heardin the camp. True, there were other sounds: the hum of insects, alion's roar in the distance, the laughing bark of a hyena; but thesewere momentary, not continuous like the rustling of the grass, whichthere was no breeze to account for. As minute after minute passed, andthere was still no sign, John grew more and more anxious. The boma wasless than two hundred yards distant. He durst not strike a light tolook at his watch, but surely there had been time to go and come and goagain. What was happening?

  Ferrier, stealing across the ground with no more sound than a snakemight have made, guided always by the faint glow from the fires, hadcovered, as he guessed, two-thirds of the distance when he thought itprudent to drop upon hands and knees, lest, upright, his form should bedescried by some keen-sighted sentry. He had crawled thus some twentyyards further when suddenly he saw dimly before him a something, like anirregular hedge, no more than four feet high, stretching athwart hispath. Was this the boma? Surely it bespoke unusual security in theenemy if they had contented themselves with so low a defence. Theirbomas were commonly six feet high or more. He crept on more stealthilyuntil he touched the obstruction: it was a thorny hedge. He tried topeer through it, expecting to see the camp-fires; but he looked intoblackness, save for the dull red glow in the sky. Was it possible thatthe enemy were not so confident after all, but had erected a doublebarrier? Or was the hedge natural?

  He crawled to the left. The hedge had a regular curve. It must havebeen placed by men. Raising himself gradually to his feet until hiseyes were just level with the top, he looked over. Yes; there was thetrue boma, a dark mass thirty feet away. Through its interstices he sawstreaks of dim light from the fires burning within. To set fire to theouter hedge would be useless; within the boma the enemy would be stillsecure, and the conflagration would but give them light to take aim attheir assailants. He must cross the hedge.

  But how? By a flying leap? This would expose him to the view of anyone on watch, for though the night was dark, it was not so black butthat a moving object could be seen. By clambering over? This would beattended by the same risk and by others. He might indeed scramble overat the expense of torn hands and clothing, though there was the dangerof being held fast by the tenacious wait-a-bit thorns of which theobstacle was made. But his movements must cause such a crackling andcreaking of the interlaced branches as could not fail to alarm any onewho chanced to be awake in the camp, no matter at what part of it.Leaping and climbing being equally out of the question, what courseremained?

  Ferrier was not for nothing the grandson of a man who had roughed it inthe backwoods of Canada. If acquired qualities are not inherited, thestock of which he came must have been sturdy and dogged in grain. Atany rate, Charles was not the man to be baulked. Dropping on his kneesagain, he dug his fingers into the soil beneath the hedge. It wasgravel, like the ground he had crossed in coming from the river. Verycarefully he began to scrape out a hole, intending to persevere until itwas large enough for him to squeeze his body through. He soon foundthat the
task was not to be easy. The soil was so light and mobilethat, as he scraped, it tended to slip at the sides and fill up the holehe was so laboriously excavating. Further, he felt the hedge, at thepoint where he was undermining it, subside, with a rustling and creakingwhich, faint as it was, might easily catch the ear of a wary guard.Fortunately the subsidence was soon checked. The base of the hedge wascomposed of stout branches which yielded but slightly, and in a fewminutes the settling down ceased.

  Relieved on this score, Ferrier scraped away at the hole, thinking ofJohn, who was no doubt wondering at the long delay. He worked until hisfingers were sore. At last the hole was large enough for him to wriggleunder the hedge. He groped with his hands for any thorns that might besticking out downwards from the tangle above, and finding several, cutthem off with his knife. Then, shoving his bundles of grass before him,he crawled into the hole and began to worm his way through. It was atight fit, and the difficulty was all the greater because of the needfor silence. More than once as his body, pressed close against thelower part of the hedge, put some strain upon it, there was a sharpcreak when his passage freed the branch. At last he was through,scratched, hot, and breathless, and with a feeling that the variousparts of his clothing were in very unnatural relation to one another.But he was through: that was the main thing; and pausing only to takebreath, he ran in a stooping posture across the space between the outerand the inner defences.

  All was quiet within the boma. Ferrier maintains to this day thatsnoring is an infirmity of civilization, for the sleepers emitted nosound. He lost no time in completing his task. First he soaked thebundles of grass thoroughly with methylated spirit, having postponedthis until he reached the boma, lest evaporation should diminish theeffect. Then he thrust them beneath the boma, choosing a place where itwas thick and the light from the fires shone through less freely thanelsewhere. Then he struck a match and applied it. Instantly there wasa great flame; the dry thornbushes of the boma took fire readily.Ferrier slipped away to be out of the glare, but had gone only a fewsteps when he heard a soft patter of feet behind him. A moment after,the air was rent with rifle cracks and a din of shouting, from withinthe boma and from a distance. He turned to meet the man approaching,and saw the form of a big negro silhouetted against the glare. Ferrierwas unarmed save for his clasp-knife, and he had not made up his mindwhat to do when a shot whistled past him: the negro had fired at himwhile still running. Before the man could draw a knife or turn in histracks Ferrier threw himself upon him, trying to wrest the rifle fromhis hand. The two fell together; the rifle dropped to the ground; andblack man and white were locked in a desperate wrestle. Ferrier feltthe negro's arms about him, straining to crush him or to break his back.Oblivious of the tumult around him--the yells and shots within the boma,the shouts of the assailants, the crackle and roar of theflames--Ferrier strove to free himself from the strangling embrace,conscious that he was no match in muscle for his powerful opponent. Hehad almost given himself up for lost when the man's grip relaxed, andwith a heavy groan he lay still. Ferrier sprang up. By the light ofthe blazing boma he saw the men of his party at two points of the outerhedge, some leaping over it, some slashing at it with their knives andtearing it down. None of them were firing; after the first discharge oftheir rifles John had ordered them to rush for the camp. Evidently thebig negro had been struck down by a shot from his own friends.

  Ferrier stood for a moment, marvelling at the din. Then he saw thatJohn's men had crossed the outer hedge and were swarming towards theboma. Shouting at the top of his voice lest he should be butchered byhis own party, he left the wounded man on the ground and joined them.With John at their head they were sweeping round towards the gate. Thefiring from within the boma had now ceased; the shouts were those of theassailants alone; and when the excited throng reached the gate, they sawin the ruddy glare the enemy streaming in frantic haste towards theriver. Many an arrow was sped after them; a few of the rearmostnarrowly escaped capture. Seeing that they were hopelessly routed, Johnshouted to his men to refrain from pursuit and retire within the boma.Then, telling off a dozen men to stand at the gate and watch against anyrally of the enemy, he called to the rest to help him to check the fire.He left the part that was fiercely burning, and ordered the men to teardown a portion on each side of it, so as to make two large gaps acrosswhich the flames could not spring. The work was assisted by the absenceof wind. The portion around the spot where Ferrier had kindled the firesoon burnt itself out; the remainder was saved. Within ten minutesafter the first blaze the enemy were scattered in confusion, and thecamp was in John's hands.