CHAPTER XII--THE DESERTER
"Come now, Reinecke, you have been away two months or so. What is thetruth of things? We are fed here with what I am convinced are false, orat any rate too rosy, reports. Coming from the centre you ought to bewell informed, and I want to know exactly how matters stand."
Major von Rudenheim bent forward and fixed his hard blue eyes onReinecke. They were sitting in the major's quarters. Reinecke had justreturned from a mission which had carried him right across the country,and after delivering dispatches at headquarters had lost no time invisiting his friend the major.
"What is the truth?" said Reinecke, flicking the ash from his cigarirritably. "Who knows? They said that Paris would fall before theBritish Army got across the Channel; now it is said that Paris has notfallen, though the British Army has been annihilated."
"And the Fleet?"
"The British are skulking in their harbours and won't fight. We havebombarded most of their commercial ports out of existence, but they hadbeen laying in such enormous stocks of food in anticipation of the warthat it will take a year or so to starve them out. So it's said."
"But surely if the ships won't fight we command the sea and can bringthem to terms. It ought to be over by Christmas."
"Yes, the Kaiser is to eat his Christmas dinner in London. But the factis, Major, we're living on rumours. The British smashed up our wirelessinstallation at Dar-es-Salam, and we haven't had any really authenticnews from Germany since a fortnight after war broke out. As for thiscountry, we are not doing so well as we ought to have done. We've takensome places inside their frontier, but they've put up a surprisinglygood defence, and at present it's stalemate. Apparently they arebringing troops from India----"
"In spite of our Fleet?"
"Yes, in spite of our Fleet. Tirpitz deserves to be cashiered."
"But, my good friend, if they can get reinforcements and we can't, whereare we? And then, I thought the English had to send troops to India toput down the rebellion there. Isn't that true?"
"I don't know what's true. I'm sick of the whole thing. Here's myplantation going to rack and ruin: that wretched young cub of anEnglishman having the audacity to run off with my workers; and when Iought to be bringing him to book I'm packed off to Tabora. Heaven knowswhat has happened in my absence."
"I know a little, too. Your young cub is a pretty lively one, and haspretty good claws. A few days after we were beaten back at Abercorn----"
"That's true, then. I didn't believe it."
"What could be expected when all our best troops are in the north? Wewere outnumbered."
If Major von Rudenheim believed what he said, he must have beensingularly ill-informed. On September 5, when the Germans attacked thelittle town of Abercorn, its defenders were forty members of the nativepolice, its commandant the postmaster. There happened to be amachine-gun at hand, and this was so well manipulated by the postmaster,Mr. Bisset (who might have been expected to be more at home with thetelegraph instrument) that the tiny garrison was able to hold off theenemy, four times its strength, until reinforcements of Rhodesianplanters arrived. Mr. Bisset's name deserves to be recorded on theillustrious roll of civilians turned soldiers who have at criticalmoments helped to make and to save the British Empire.
"As I was saying," the major went on, "a few days after our unluckyreverse at Abercorn, your young cub pounced upon one of our recruitingpatrols and carried every man of them to his lair somewhere in theforest."
Reinecke swore a good old German oath.
"It's not true," he declared.
"You forget yourself, Captain," said Rudenheim, severely. "I am not aBerlin newspaper, or even the Wolff bureau."
"I apologise, Major, but really--a German patrol, with German soldiers?"
"A sergeant, two privates, and I don't know how many askaris. They allvanished."
"Then it can't be known that this English pighead captured them: howcould it?"
"My dear captain, a recruiting patrol recruits. These unfortunateGermans were returning with their bag--how large I don't know: your cubreleased them all. When the patrol was some days overdue, a party wassent out in search. They found the villages towards Lake Rukwaabsolutely empty of able-bodied men, which seems to show that thisBritish lion-cub has set up a pretty efficient system of scouting, orthe niggers could hardly have had warning. But by adopting the usualmethods they wrung the story out of one of the old men, burnt down a fewhouses, and returned with the news."
"And you hunted the wretch?"
"We had something better to do. The English, reinforced by Belgians,have kept things rather lively on the frontier, and we have had no mento spare for cub-hunting."
"But--but--it is preposterous; it is an insult to the German flag; toallow a nest of mutineers to exist--yes, and to make raids--within acouple of marches of a German town. The young fool is alone----"
"With all your plantation hands, I understand."
"Raw niggers----"
"But armed with Mausers we can ill spare."
"They don't know butt from muzzle."
"Possibly your cub is not such a cub after all. The English schoolboynowadays has a cadet's training, I believe. Perhaps this youngstermight drive a little military gumption even into the nigger's woodenhead."
"Really, Major," cried Reinecke impatiently, "you speak as though--asthough you think the English good for something, whereas we all knowthey can't possibly be. They've no efficiency; they're slack; they----"
"Yes, we've been told so," the major interposed drily. "It's justpossible that we're mistaken--believe what we want to believe. And I'veseen this boy, remember."
Reinecke got up and stalked about the room.
"It is absurd; it is scandalous," he cried. "A young whippersnapperkidnaps our men, defies us, lowers the prestige of the German name,makes us a laughing-stock----"
"Stay, stay, Captain. You are a little intemperate. A friendly word ofwarning: don't talk like that outside this room. It's unwise, unsafe,if you value your commission. I go so far as to say you areunreasonable. You allow personal feeling to warp your judgment. Yourdislike of this young Englishman, however natural in thecircumstances--" Reinecke flashed a keen look at the speaker--"must notblind you to the facts of the situation. As I have explained, we havebeen hard pressed on the frontier. The Englishman, it appears, has anextraordinarily strong position----"
"Where is he?"
"They talk of a nullah----"
"I know it. It was in my company he learnt of it."
"That must be very annoying."
"Not at all, it is good news. Strong? Why, it is a cul-de-sac. At thenorth it is blocked by a lake. The cub has trapped himself."
"You are a little impatient, Captain. I was about to tell you that ahalf company of askaris went in pursuit of him the same night he leftyour plantation--while you were making your way here. You left nextmorning, you remember, or you would have known that our men were checkedin the forest----"
"Checked? By a horde of untrained niggers?"
"Commanded by your cub of an Englishman. They were checked; onlytemporarily, of course; the lieutenant did not know what force he hadagainst him, and acted with prudence as a good soldier should. But whenhe pushed on to the nullah, he found that fortification had already beenbegun. The entrance of the nullah was defended by a formidablebreastwork, and to capture the place would have taken a longer time thanhe had to dispose of: he was under orders for Abercorn."
"But surely----"
"Let me finish, Captain. There was a breastwork, as I say; and I amvery much mistaken if between then and now the boy has not added to hisdefences. It is a mistake to despise one's enemy, Reinecke, even anEnglishman. Lieutenant Obermann's opinion--and he is a good man, youknow--is that the nullah, properly defended, could not be reduced byless than a couple of companies of good troops--unless it could besurprised; and since the fellow draws scouts from all the niggers in theneighbourhood there's littl
e chance of that. Two companies could not bedetached from our frontier posts without a risk which the colonel wasunwilling to run. He is not blind to all the considerations you put soforcibly just now; but his decision was, to wait until the generalsituation eased, then to take measures to stamp out your Englishman andhis mutineers as one would destroy a nest of vipers."
"Yes, hang the lot."
"The Englishman?"
"Why not? He is a spy. The spy's fate is to be hanged."
"Quite so. And I am sure we can depend on you, Captain, to supply agood rope--even for your partner."
Reinecke turned angrily towards the major, whose attitude throughout theinterview had been very unsatisfactory, and in whose tone he had caughta hint of contempt. But the explosion that seemed imminent wasprevented by a knock at the door and the entrance of the major'sservant.
The man saluted formally, and announced that an Arab was enquiring forCaptain Reinecke.
"Send him in," said the major: "unless you would prefer to see him atyour own quarters, Captain."
"No. Why should I meet an Arab secretly?" said Reinecke withirritation. "Let him come in."
There entered a lean, haggard Arab, in worn and tattered dress, with onearm in a sling. He bowed to the officers.
"Haroun!" cried Reinecke. "I hardly knew you ... It is one of myoverseers, Major ... Where have you been?"
The man, in his broken German, poured out a long story, which keenlyinterested the officers in different ways. He said that, after havingbeen removed from the plantation, he had been forced to take servicewith the Englishman, and been cruelly treated by him. Lifting histunic, he turned his back, and displayed a few weals. He escaped, andwas fired at and wounded in the arm. After several terrible days in theforest, he had managed to crawl into Bismarckburg, and what with hungerand pain was now at the point of death.
"Flogging a German subject!" cried Reinecke. "Another nail in theEnglishman's coffin."
"A knot in the noose, let us say. Your Arab had better have somethingto eat: he may then tell us a good deal that we want to know. His armcan be attended to afterwards. He is not so near death as he thinks."
The man was given into the charge of the major's servant, to be fed.
"Your Englishman, I suppose, dealt with the Arab as he had seen him dealwith your niggers," remarked the major.
"He saw nothing of the kind," replied Reinecke with an air of malicioustriumph. "While he was at the plantation I forbade the use of the whip.You see, Major?--the English boasted humanity is sheer cant andhypocrisy: what we do openly they do on the sly."
"Hardly that, Reinecke. You forget there are German prisoners in thenullah. They probably saw the flogging."
"And shared it, I daresay. The English are capable of any atrocity.But we shall find the man useful, Major. Nothing could be better. Andthe nullah is so near that though the rains have started we might crushthe vipers soon: there'll be a pause in the operations on the frontier."
The Arab returned, refreshed and clean. Reinecke questioned him eagerly,and drew from him many details of what had happened since the flightfrom the plantation. The German prisoners, he said, had been placed onthe island, where a hut had been built for them. Food was conveyed tothem on a raft. As the man described the defensive works at the nullah,Reinecke drew a rough diagram in his pocketbook, and marked thepositions of the trenches and the camp.
"The youngster has a good headpiece," said the major, looking withinterest at the diagram. "His name? Willoughby? I'm afraid we can'tclaim German ancestry for him."
"A machine-gun will smash him," said Reinecke.
"A machine-gun would not be very effective against defences like these,and it would be a terrible business to get up anything heavier acrosssuch country, at any rate while the rains are on. He seems to have madegood use of his time during the last two months in training his niggers,and unfortunately has won over our trained askaris. A frontal attackwould be very costly, my friend."
"I can show another way into the nullah, Herr Major," said the Arab.
"Why didn't you say so before?" cried Reinecke. "Where is it?"
"The Herr Hauptmann will take me back into his service?"
"Dog, would you bargain with me? By your own confession you deserted tothe enemy."
"I was compelled."
"You deserted all the same. Deserters are shot. Your only chance ofescaping the penalty is to assist us--to show us the way into thenullah. You'll do that, and if you fail you'll be shot."
The Arab protested that he was sure of his ground, and would faithfullylead the troops to an entrance into the nullah which was at presentwholly unsuspected by the Englishman. He described its position, andReinecke's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he turned to Rudenheim andsaid--
"We have him, Major! We'll capture the place at little cost, andthen---- Haroun, go and show the doctor your arm, and come to myquarters to-morrow."
"A moment," said the major. "You were flogged: what for?"
The Arab appeared to be for a moment disconcerted by the German's swiftquestion. Then he answered:
"Because I would not work as hard as the Englishman wished, Herr Major."
"So! You may go ... The man is a liar, Reinecke. You will find thatthere's nothing much wrong with his arm, if anything at all. All thesame, that northern entrance is genuine enough, I think; and we mustcertainly catch your cub. But I don't think we'll hang him; he's thekind of man I like to make a prisoner of war."
Tom Willoughby's Scouts: A Story of the War in German East Africa Page 12