CHAPTER XIX--BELEAGUERED
Tom's first business was to examine his spoils of war. Besides aconsiderable quantity of maize and other foods intended for the askaris,there was a case containing coffee, condensed milk, tinned fruits,biscuits, and a few bottles of wine--articles which were very welcomeadditions to his private larder. Still more welcome were the boxes ofammunition. One small case held a couple of dozen metal objects whoseuse he did not know; but unscrewing the top of one of them he saw whathe took to be combustible material of some kind, and confirmed his guesswith a lighted match. These flares, he thought, might prove very usefulin case of a night attack.
A commander's chief preoccupation, perhaps, is to divine the intentionsof the enemy. What would the column from Bismarckburg do? Its officershad no doubt learnt within an hour or two what had happened to theeastern column, and it seemed probable that the disaster would havederanged their plans. In the course of the afternoon Tom received amessage from the scout who had been stationed on the hill overlookingthe enemy's halting place. The man reported that a number of theaskaris had climbed the hill on different sides, and he had withdrawn tothe next post northward. Tom guessed that the German commander hadsuspected the presence on the hill of scouts who had given him away, andhad wisely determined to get rid of them. The post having been thusabandoned, the enemy's movements could not be known at the nullah untilthey had come within sight from the next post. That, however, was morethan twenty miles away, and Tom expected to receive warning of theirapproach in ample time to prepare for them. He conjectured that theywould make no move until they had replaced the supplies of which theyhad been deprived.
He was not one to sit with folded hands, idly waiting. Next day, takingadvantage of his largely increased stock of ammunition, he spent a goodmany hours in giving his men rifle practice. Owing to the nature of theposition, firing, when the attack came, was likely to be at point blankrange, so that it was unnecessary to instruct the mass of the natives inthe mysteries of adjusting sights. But in view of the possibility ofhaving to fall back up the nullah, he gave special instruction in longrange firing to a score of the men who had had former experience withfirearms.
More than once he had wished for the companionship of a man of his ownrace. Mirambo was a devoted lieutenant, but consultation with him couldonly be carried on through Mwesa, and his range of ideas was as limitedas the boy's command of English. Tom felt the lack of an equal, a manof like upbringing and education, with whom he might have had those longand intimate talks in which mind reacts on mind with mutual helpfulness.More than ever he wished it now. An advancing enemy should be harassed;but Tom dared not leave the nullah himself, and neither Mirambo nor anyother native had the cool judgment and the self-control necessary in thecommander of even a disciplined force, much more in one who had onlyhalf-trained negroes under his leadership. Pitted against well-drilledaskaris under capable German officers, the Wahehe would be hopelesslyovermatched; they would almost certainly be outflanked and cut off, andTom could not afford to lose men. Under a white man the risks would nothave been so great. But it is idle to long for the impossible, and Tomrealised that the only safe course was to keep the men with him. Hegave orders to his scouts to fall back upon the nullah when the enemyadvanced, but slowly, and noting their progress from point to point.
It was on the third day after the little action at the bridge that hisfurthermost scout reported the enemy were on the move. They had marchedtwo miles along the track from the spot on which they had encampedbeside the Neu Langenburg road. There was a great host of askaris, agreat host of porters, and several white men. Some of the porters weredragging a long green bottle on wheels.
A long green bottle on wheels!
Tom felt a sinking at heart. What could this be but a field gun? Thehosts of askaris did not dismay him: their numbers were, no doubt,exaggerated by the natives as usual; but he recognized that hisbarricade of trees would be a poor defence against shell-fire. Therewas little time to improvise adequate protection; but he set almost thewhole of his men to work at once in digging a deep trench a few yardsbehind the barricade.
At intervals during the rest of the day came further reports of theenemy's progress. Their advance was slow; it was clear that they couldnot reach the nullah before nightfall, and after their long march theywould not make an immediate attack. Leaving a strong guard at thebarricade, Tom went to his hut to fortify himself with sleep for whatthe next day might bring forth. But he found it impossible to rest.Now that the critical moment was approaching, his mind went over andover the situation. Had he left undone anything that might have beendone? What would be the effect of shell-fire on his men--aye, and onhimself? What were the enemy's plans? Would they, after battering downhis outer defences, make a fierce charge into the nullah, relying on thedefenders' demoralisation by the bombardment? Thinking over these andother questions, he felt that he had done all he could: the rest was onthe knees of the gods.
Very early next morning he made a round of inspection, then issuedthrough Mwesa his final orders. At the first sign of hostile action themen were to take up their allotted positions. He warned them that theymust expect something worse than rifle bullets; but none were to leavethe trenches without permission.
To give notice of the enemy's approach, he had posted scouts on the topof the sides of the nullah. But the first intimation came not fromthem, but from the enemy himself. About midday there was a dull boom inthe south. A few seconds afterwards a shell burst with a shatteringexplosion on the hill face. A cry of astonishment and fear broke fromsome of the Wahehe; but Tom, in the centre of the trench with Mwesa athis side, calmed them by asking whether they supposed the shells woulddestroy the sides of the nullah. The response was an outburst ofmocking laughter. It was a big noise, said the men; but the result hadbeen only the fall of broken branches and fragments of rock. All waswell.
The bombardment was continued and maintained steadily throughout theday. Some shells fell harmlessly on the steep sides of the nullah,others in the stream or among the bushes some distance up, others on theclearing outside. One struck the barricade, scattering boughs and twigsand making a gap; but none entered the trenches, and no man was hit. Bythe end of the day the natives had become indifferent to thebombardment, laughing and joking as they watched the smoke and thesplinters which did them no harm. With sunset the shelling ceased, andmovement in the lower part of the nullah became once more possible. Sofar, none of the enemy had been seen, and Tom wondered how the gunnershad been able to range with even approximate accuracy on their unseentarget. He never knew that Major von Rudenheim had not considered thebearing of a flag of truce inconsistent with the taking of carefulmeasurements, by means of which he had fixed on several spots in theforest whence the nullah might be shelled at known ranges.
It seemed to Tom hardly likely that the enemy would attempt a nightattack before they had ascertained how much damage their gun had done.Nevertheless, he kept a large number of men under arms all night,relieving them every four hours. Two of the askaris were selected tolight the captured flares and throw them over the barricade if the enemymade a move. In the middle of the night Tom snatched a few hours'sleep, leaving Mirambo in command; and when, shortly before dawn, onreturning to his post, he learnt that no sounds had been heard frombeyond the clearing, he felt sure that not even a reconnaissance hadbeen attempted, or it would have been detected by the negroes' sharpears.
It was a misty, drizzly morning, and the trees at the edge of the foresttwo hundred yards south of the nullah loomed through the murk only as ablurred mass. Tom gave orders to his scouts, before they climbed totheir watch-posts above, to be specially vigilant. About seven o'clocka shell burst just behind the trench, and three of his men were slightlyinjured by splinters. The fact that the shell exploded before the boomof the gun was heard, showed that the gunners had drawn nearer duringthe night. This was the opening of a bombardment that continued forabout three hours. Again little dam
age was done, most of the shellsfalling many yards behind the barricade.
Suddenly the firing ceased. The scouts, sharp-eyed though they were,had reported no movement among the trees, when there came the shrillblast of a whistle. Tom had posted himself with his men at thebarricade, and he was just able to see, through the mist, a compact lineof askaris break from cover. There was no attempt at skirmishing; theenemy rushed straight across the clearing towards the mouth of thenullah. Twenty yards behind them came a second line, and with these Tomsaw the white helmet of a German officer.
He had given orders that no man was to fire until he sounded hiswhistle; but it was too much to expect that all his negroes, in theexcitement of what was to many of them their first action, wouldexercise the self-control of disciplined troops. Only one of them,however, let off his rifle, and the single shot, fired at random, washailed with a derisive yell by the askaris. Tom waited until they werehalf-way across the clearing; then he blew his whistle. Along the wholelength of the barricade burst a shattering volley, not perfectly intime, but aimed low, as Tom had instructed. At so short a range theeffect was inevitable. The first line of the assailants was broken;groans mingled with the shouts; the survivors wavered. The Germannon-commissioned officer from behind ran among them, threatening themwith his revolver, and under this stimulus they charged forward, withthe second line at their heels.
Now Tom gave the signal for a second volley. The enemy were barely fiftyyards away. Many of them dropped; some flung themselves on the ground.The few who struggled on found themselves baulked by the unsuspectedmoat; and the German having fallen, and no supports being at hand, theyturned and fled. Before they reached the cover of the trees anotherstorm of bullets swept upon them.
The Wahehe gave rein to their jubilation. They shouted, pranced, slappedtheir thighs. Some wished to dash out from the barricade in pursuit ofthe enemy; but Tom sternly ordered them to stand to attention. He wasas much pleased as they were that the first assault had failed; unlikethem, he knew that this was only the beginning of things. But it was ofgood omen for the future. Brief though the engagement had been, it hadweakened the enemy in numbers, whether seriously Tom, ignorant of theirreserves, could not tell. It had encouraged his own men; best of all,it had proved their steadiness. The three shots they had fired were allthat their magazines contained; now that he could trust them not towaste ammunition, he could allow them to keep their magazines full.
For more than an hour there was no sign of a renewal of the attack.Then, however, the bombardment was resumed. It would appear that whilethe defenders' attention was wholly taken tip with repelling theirassailants, some of the enemy, unseen in the rear, must have "spotted"for the gun, for the shells now began regularly to pierce the barricade,exploding on impact, and tearing away masses of the leafy boughs.Crouching at the bottom of the muddy trench, the Wahehe suffered no hurtexcept bruises and abrasions from splinters of wood and metal; and Tomresolved to have the breaches in the barricade repaired during thenight.
But nightfall did not bring a cessation of the bombardment. Every fewminutes throughout the night the shells cut new gaps. Work wasimpossible. Tom guessed that the enemy's object was not merely toprevent repairs, but to wear the defenders out by breaking their restand keeping them constantly on the watch. In one way, however, thepersistent bombardment was a source of satisfaction to him. While theshells continued to fall, there was no likelihood that the enemy wouldagain assault. The prospect of a night attack had caused him muchanxiety, for the negro's morale is never at its best in the dark;further, in darkness and confusion the weight of numbers would tellheavily against him.
Tom knew nothing about artillery, and began to feel a certain contemptfor the gun, so slight was the material damage done by its shells. Itwas not, however, a field gun, but a small mountain gun, more easilytransportable than a larger weapon. After the bombardment had continuedfor some hours neither he nor the men were much disturbed by the shellbursts, and he felt more and more confident of his ability to hold hisown.
But when daylight came again he discovered that the enemy had hadanother purpose in their shelling. The bombardment continued. Thescouts from their high posts above reported that they saw men's heads inthe ground on the further side of the clearing. Unable to make out whatthey meant, Tom climbed the side of the nullah under cover of the bushesuntil he reached the trench, and cautiously looked out across the openspace beyond the barricade. Some thirty yards in advance of the edge ofthe forest, on the level of the ground, he saw the heads of severalaskaris moving up and down. At one moment a dozen heads were in sight,the next some of them disappeared, only to bob up again a few secondslater.
"By George, they're digging," he said to himself.
Quite ignorant of all military operations except those simple manoeuvreslearnt in the course of field days with his school cadet corps, he wasat first at a loss to understand why the enemy were digging a trenchwhich was apparently to extend from the forest to the nullah. He hadperhaps heard the word sap, but it conveyed nothing to his mind. It wasnot long, however, before he guessed the meaning of this unlooked-formovement. The enemy were digging a means of approach by which theywould avoid the inevitable losses of a rush across the open, and thebombardment during the night had been designed partly to cover thesounds of their tools.
Watching intently, he noticed that the direction of the enemy's trenchwas not a straight line towards the barricade, but a series of shortzigzags, obviously to minimise the risk of interference by enfiladingfire.
"I ought to try to stop that little game," he thought.
He lifted his rifle, and took a shot at one of the moving heads.Instantly they all sank down; whether he had hit he could not tell; anda fusillade burst from the trees on the other side of the clearing. Forsome minutes he saw no more of the diggers; then a head and shouldersshowed for a moment, a little nearer than the nearest head had beenbefore.
"I can't stop them, apparently," he thought, "but I can delay them."
Hurrying down to the trench behind the barricade, he sent a dozen of hisbest marksmen, including a couple of the askaris, to the position he hadleft, with orders to fire at the diggers whenever they appeared. Attheir first shots there was another fusillade from the forest; then aninterval of about a quarter of an hour during which the enemy wassilent, though Tom's men continued to snipe. After that the enemy,having located the position of the trench, began sniping in turn; butthe men were so well hidden that they suffered no loss. Presently,however, a shell burst a few yards above the trench, scatteringsplinters upon its occupants; and a few minutes later another shell fellplump on the parapet at the northern end, killing two men and woundingseveral. Tom at once withdrew the snipers from their position, and sentthem into the similar trench on the other side of the nullah. From thisthey sniped for a considerable time before they were again detected, andwhen shells began to fall there also, Tom removed the men to comparativesafety in the bed of the nullah. The wounds inflicted by the shellswere so severe that he did not feel justified in exposing his willingsoldiers to injuries which he was unable to deal with satisfactorily.
The sniping being thus put an end to, and a sortie being out of thequestion, Tom had to reconcile himself to the inevitable. Thebombardment slowed down, either because the enemy were satisfied that ithad crushed opposition, or maybe to save ammunition. Several timesduring the day Tom went up to his observation post, and noted theprogress of the zigzags. The sap was so narrow that the enemy wouldhave to advance in single file, and he thought his men behind thebarricade would have an easy task in shooting them down when the attackcame.
Next morning, however, he saw with something like dismay that the enemyhad dug a trench across the clearing, parallel with the barricade, andabout eighty yards from it. The full meaning of their work was nowclear to him. They would reach the trench by means of their zigzag path.When the word was given, they would swarm out, and though their firstwave must suffer from the defenders' fire, t
he distance they had tocover was so short, and they could be so safely reinforced, that theymight overwhelm the defence by sheer weight of numbers. Some of thesurvivors of the first attack had come near enough to the barricade tosee the moat, and no doubt, when the enemy attacked a second time, theywould be prepared to meet that not very formidable obstacle.
All that day Tom anxiously awaited the assault. After a quiet morning,the gun opened fire, and for two hours pounded the barricade, until itwas breached in many spots. When the shelling ceased Tom expected theattack to follow immediately; but minute after minute passed, and hisscouts gave no sign of any movement among the enemy. Taking advantageof this inaction, Tom set some of the men to fill up the gaps in thebarricade, but they had no sooner started work than the enemy's snipers,unseen among the trees, began to pick them off. It was clear that theissue of the struggle would depend on the fighting capacity of the men,and not on the strength of the defences.
For the past two days the weather had been dull but dry, and Tom foundhimself longing for a downpour of rain, which would flood the enemy'sapproaches. His anxieties were the greater through his ignorance oftheir numbers. Since the first attack he had seen none of them exceptthe sappers; whether the men biding their time in the forest werescores, hundreds, or even thousands he was utterly unable to guess. Ifhe had known the German's contempt for "cannon-fodder" he might havesuspected that their numbers were not very great, for a German officerwith large resources would hardly have drawn off at the first check.
Darkness closed down upon the nullah. Tom dared not leave his post,weary though he was. Lying on a heap of twigs he waited, wondering whatthe night would bring forth.
Tom Willoughby's Scouts: A Story of the War in German East Africa Page 19