Tom Willoughby's Scouts: A Story of the War in German East Africa

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XXI--WILLOUGHBY'S SCOUTS

  An hour later a singular procession marched southward through theforest. At the head went a number of Msetu's scouts, with an advancedguard of strapping Rhodesian planters, young and middle-aged. Behindthese, a detachment of Rhodesian native police, their broad black facesshining. Then, a happy throng of women and children, each bearing abundle. These were followed by a number of white men and black, allwearing bandages about an arm or a leg or the head. Then, twenty ormore couples of native soldiers with the Red Cross upon their sleeves,carrying field ambulances on which lay still, bandaged figures, whiteand black. Next, four Germans, among whom the stiff bulky form of Majorvon Rudenheim was conspicuous, and thirty odd askaris--prisoners guardedby Rhodesian police. Then Major Burnaby, with Tom Willoughby, Mwesa inclose attendance behind. Then a large body of native porters, steppinglightly under the heavy burdens on their heads. Following these marchedthe whole body of the Wahehe fighting men, led by Mirambo; six of themdrew a mountain gun; and finally, at an interval, the rearguard ofBritish planters, volunteers in the service of the Empire.

  There is no need to relate the details of their uneventful journey.Next day, in a pelting rainstorm, they crossed the Neu Langenburg road,where their numbers were increased by two small detachments of Rhodesianpolice under British officers, whose watch upon the road had not beenmolested. Late on the third day the procession, weary, drenched, but atthe top of high spirits, filed up the hill into the little town ofAbercorn.

  It is perhaps worth while, however, to record two conversations.

  When the arrangements for the evacuation of the nullah had been made,Major Burnaby had leisure for a little talk with Tom Willoughby, over abottle of excellent hock from the case Tom had captured on the NeuLangenburg road.

  "Oh, that's all right," said the major, in response to Tom's warmexpression of thanks. "You owe it to my old father-in-law, you know--Mr.Barkworth."

  "Indeed!"

  "Yes: he took a fancy to you on the boat. Dear old man! His heart's asyoung as it was when I first met him in Uganda twenty years ago--when Iwas about your age. He was mightily perturbed about you when we gotword that the mad dog had broken loose. Wrote off at once to Reinecke,whom he knew long ago, asking him to pass you across the border with asafe-conduct, and became quite ill when Reinecke replied that you hadbeen accidentally killed. He gave a very circumstantial account of youraccident, by the way."

  "He was a good liar," said Tom.

  "Was?"

  "Yes, he's dead--horribly. He came to attack me, and I collared him andput him on the island in the lake. I suppose he grew impatient when heheard the firing, couldn't wait for the end, and got hisfellow-prisoners to make a sort of a raft. Our sentry deserted his post,with the most praiseworthy intentions, and Reinecke took advantage ofhis absence to launch the raft. He was attacked by crocodiles; Reineckelunged at one, and toppled over. I saw the whole thing: therecollection makes me sick."

  "Poor devil! He was a tricky sort of fellow, according to Mr.Barkworth."

  Tom related the incidents that had led to his occupation of the nullah.

  "He deserved no better fate," remarked Major Burnaby at the close of thestory. "Fellows like him make one unjust, perhaps--I mean, one wouldrather not regard him as a typical German. Unhappily his countrymen aredoing their best to make the name of Germany odious."

  "What are they doing, sir? What's the war about? Of course I've heardnothing."

  Major Burnaby gave an outline of the public events that led to thewar--events which all the world knows.

  "But the real origin of the war is Germany's tigerish greed," he said."One can understand that a great nation, flushed with unexampledsuccess, conscious of power and the possession of many good qualitieswhich only an ass would deny, should look with a certain envy andjealousy on our little islands as the owners of a world-wide empire.There are wrong-headed and sentimental people at home who make excusesfor her, ask how we could expect her to be content with the presentposition of things, say we deny her means of expansion, and so on. Butthey shut their eyes to the fundamental contrast between Germany andourselves. Our Empire is a gradual, almost an accidental, growth: muchof it has been so to speak thrust upon us: you've only to read historyto know that. We have taken up the burden of rule in barbarouscountries, or countries like India and Egypt, where civilisation haddecayed, and which but for us would be either bear's gardens or hotbedsof slavery and oppression. I don't say that our motives have alwaysbeen of the purest or our methods always the best; but I do say that wehave never, as a state, set before us the deliberate aim of grabbingwhat doesn't belong to us, forcing all civilisations into our particularmould, and subjugating all other nations by sheer brutal terrorism.That is what Germany is doing. She hasn't a notion of honour. She wasbound to respect the neutrality of Belgium; a few days before she threwher troops across the frontier she assured the Belgian Government thatshe had no intention of doing so. She forced on the war when Austriawas hesitating, simply because she thought she saw a unique opportunityof gaining a quick and easy victory, smashing Russia, smashing France,grabbing valuable territory, filling her coffers with millions offoreign gold, and reaching a position in which every country in Europe,and ultimately in the whole world, would be her very humble tributary.She will allow nothing to stand in her way: no treaties, no scruples ofhonour, no considerations of humanity. She is simply Brute Forcepersonified; the whole nation has gone mad in the worship of militarism;and she will never come to a better mind, there will be no security inthis unhappy world, until her idols are broken by the application of thesame force in overwhelming measure. That's our job, my dear fellow, andwe must go through with it, whatever the cost."

  The other conversation took place in a planter's house at Abercorn. Mr.Barkworth had just heard from Tom's lips the full story of all that hadhappened to him since their parting on the landing stage atBismarckburg.

  "H'm!" ejaculated the old man. "Tom," he said, turning to hisson-in-law, "he's your namesake. Eh? Tom's a good name--better thanriches! Young Tom must have a commission, eh? Want to fight, youngTom?"

  "Not particularly, sir. I mean, I don't want to fight; but there's onlyone thing to be done with a bully--hit him hard. That seems to be theposition; and I'll do my best."

  "Sound doctrine, my lad. I'm a man of peace; but I read of a Man ofPeace who once flogged a pack of rascals out of the Temple of Jerusalem.No soft words; but stinging whips. Please God, we'll whip Germany intogood behaviour. But now, the practical point. Infantry? Cavalry?Artillery? What's it to be?"

  "He seems rather good at organising scouts," Major Burnaby put in.

  "H'm! Scouts very useful when we get seriously to work in those wilds.Willoughby's Scouts, why not? What do you say, young Tom?"

  "I couldn't wish for anything better, sir. The Wahehe will be anucleus: they're very keen."

  "They'll follow you like faithful dogs. I know them! Well, old Tom,you'll arrange it. Smuts is coming: fine fellow, Smuts: I know him.Willoughby's Scouts must be ready--

  'TOM WILLOUGHBY'S SCOUTS.'"

  PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, BRUNSWICK ST., STAMFORD ST., S.E. 1, AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.

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