Tom Burnaby Part 13

"Don't take me away, don't take me away!" he shrieked. "I will tell, I will tell!"

At a sign from the major the Soudanese returned to the tent, and the wretched man stood before him, thoroughly cowed, and trembling in every limb.

"You will tell! Perhaps you are wise. You will tell me everything from the beginning. Mind, I make no promises; but it is your only chance!"

The major dismissed the Soudanese, and the man began in a low faint voice to tell his story. It was as follows:--

About two miles before reaching Imubinga, the path led across a mountain stream some ten feet deep and thirty wide, spanned by a native bridge.

The river had cut a deep ravine between two high hills, and its steep banks were covered with dense forest growth, huge trees crowning the summit. The bank at which the expedition would first arrive had been unequally worn away, and some two hundred and fifty feet above the stream, almost overhanging the bridge, was a prominent bluff, projecting, as the guide put it, like the nose from a man's face. This had been the scene of a memorable incident during the invasion of the district by the Baganda some fifty years before. As a force of Baganda were crossing the bridge, a number of tree trunks, previously felled, had been rolled over the edge of the bluff, and crashing down upon them had killed many outright, and thrown the whole force into such confusion that it fell an easy prey to the enemy. The Baganda were ma.s.sacred almost to a man. This incident had pa.s.sed into the traditions of the country; warriors sang about it round their camp-fires, and mothers crooned their babies to rest with the song of "The Ambush by the Bridge".

The same plan was to be pursued now. In the fifty years which had elapsed since the earlier ambuscade, trees had again grown to maturity on the headland. Some of these had been felled, and the moment was to be seized, when half the column had crossed the river, to roll the trunks down upon the bridge. The Arabs, meanwhile, and their Manyema warriors, divided into two bands, one up and the other down stream, would be lying concealed in the forest sufficiently far from the bridge to avoid the British scouts. When the logs had been hurled down, and the troops were in confusion, a signal was to be given from the summit of the bluff; the Arabs were to emerge from their hiding-places, and make a simultaneous attack on the force hemmed in between them. They reckoned that the rear part of the column, deprived of the support of those who had already pa.s.sed over the bridge, and enc.u.mbered with the baggage, would be as sheep in their hands. These having been disposed of, the first half, left without any reserve of ammunition and food, could be dealt with at leisure.

"Jolly good scheme!" remarked Captain Lister admiringly, between two puffs, when the man had finished his story.

"They must think we're pretty green, sir," said Lieutenant Mumford, unable to conceal his scorn of such tactics. Captain Lister eyed him for a moment, but said nothing. The major was drumming on the table, looking thoughtfully at the guide, while the doctor waved a handkerchief to keep off the flies.

"That is the truth, is it?" said the major at last. "And you were sent to help me to find the way! I have heard of worse schemes. But how did you expect to escape?"

The Arab shifted his feet uneasily.

"Not that that matters. But I should like to know a little more. I am not marching against the Arabs; why are your friends so concerned about our operations against a native chief? What is the motive? Tell me that."

Relieved that the major's interrogation was no longer so uncomfortably personal to himself, the guide went on with his narrative.

Far away in the west, he said, beyond Imubinga, beyond the Rutchuru and the hills, in the heart of the Congo forest, his friends had a stronghold, so well hidden that the forces of the Congo Free State had never succeeded in finding it. Even if they had found it they would have failed to take it, for the place was absolutely impregnable. To this fortress a remnant of Arab dealers in ivory and slaves had retired when the power of Hamed ben Juna, more commonly known by the natives'

nickname, Tippu Tib, and his lieutenants was broken by the Belgian forces, and there they still pursued their vocation by stealth, their spies marking every movement of the Free State officials, their allies drawing the enemy off when he came dangerously near. In the course of some years they had ama.s.sed a huge store of ivory, and collected some thousands of slaves, some of these latter being employed in tilling the soil and supplying their captors with the necessaries of life; while others were traded away for ivory to the cannibal tribes of the middle Congo. It was, however, becoming increasingly difficult to elude the Free State authorities, and the circle of their traffic was gradually narrowing. The old chief Rumaliza, whom the Belgians supposed to have died in the forest after the capture of Kabambari, was still alive, looking with alarm at the prospect of having to feed his horde of slaves without any chance of a profitable deal. Hemmed in by the British, German, and Free State territories, which were all being brought rapidly under effective control by the respective European administrators, he foresaw inevitable ruin, soon or late. He was anxious, therefore, to realize his wealth and retire to the coast, and in pursuance of this aim he had resolved on one final coup, a last expiring effort of the slave-trade. His plan was to form a huge caravan, transport all his slaves to the coast, and ship them to Arabia.

"Oh, come now!" exclaimed the major at this point, "that must be nonsense. It's close on a thousand miles to the nearest point of the coast, and your friends are not fools enough to imagine that they could make a slave run without having us upon their tracks."

Then the guide proceeded to unfold a plot at which his younger hearers held their breath, and even the major himself, old and seasoned hand as he was, could scarcely restrain an exclamation of astonishment. The Arabs, said the man, had in their camp a number of deposed Banyoro and Baganda chiefs, whose conduct had been such as to preclude any chance of their regaining their position while the British occupation continued.

These men, having nothing to lose and everything to gain, had established communications with every Mahomedan in Uganda and Unyoro who was known to be disaffected. At a given signal the latter were to rise; and the signal was to be the defeat of a British column. Where the defeat was to take place had not been disclosed to the disaffected in Uganda, lest the plot should be divulged. It had been perfected by the Portuguese during his stay in Kisumu. It was known that only a weak British force was available for operations in the southern part of the Protectorate. A small native chief was to be persuaded to revolt, and it was hoped that the affair would be regarded as of so little consequence that only a handful of troops would be employed to crush him. The revolt had taken place as arranged, but owing to Major Burnaby's energy the punitive column was stronger than the Arabs had antic.i.p.ated. Still, with a numerical advantage of two to one, without counting their native allies and dependants, the Arabs were not so much disheartened as to abandon their plans. They confidently expected that the ambush would result in the annihilation of the British force. The news was to be conveyed to the scattered conspirators with the rapidity with which news always flies through native Africa; a picked force was to seize rail-head, after overpowering, or at least hara.s.sing, the small garrisons at Entebbe, Kisumu, and other military stations, and, if possible, to foment a general rising among the populace. Taking advantage of the confusion, the Arabs, with their satellites, were to run the slaves by forced marches to the western sh.o.r.e of the Nyanza, carry them over in canoes, and thence for a hundred and fifty miles along the railway, and then make for a spot on the coast of Italian Somaliland, whence they could ship them to Arabia.

"'Faith, I would like to examine the cranium of the man who devised that crazy scheme!" cried the doctor. "He must be's mad's a hatter!"

The major was in no mood to indulge in quips with Dr. O'Brien. His mind was wholly concentrated on the task which had opened before him. He sat silent and abstracted, seeming even to have forgotten the presence of the traitor. Recovering himself in a moment, he said quietly:

"Go away. You will be kept under arrest for the rest of the march; see to that, Mr. Mumford. When we are through with this business I'll consider what's to be done with you. Take him away. There's the other man now," continued the major, when the guide had been removed. "It is just worth while to see if his story corroborates the one we have just heard. Fadl, fetch the captured slave."

It was short work with him. A rumour had already run through the camp that the guide was in trouble, and the Ankoli wore an anxious look when he came up. The major told him in one sentence that his friend Munta had confessed; and the man at once volunteered to unbosom himself. His story differed from the other merely in ornaments. To the major's enquiries he replied that the Arabs were about nine hundred and fifty strong, and their allies rather more than a thousand. Many of the former were armed with Mausers, smuggled in through German East Africa.

The rest of them had Sniders and other obsolete rifles ("Good enough in forest fighting" was the practical remark of Captain Lister), while the Manyema for the most part had only very old muskets in addition to spears.

"That rings true," said the major. "Has he anything more to tell?"

"Him say true, all berrah much," said Mbutu, who had interpreted.

"Eberyfing told; know no more."

"Very well Fadl, take him and tie him up. Gentlemen, it is now past eleven o'clock. We will strike camp and be off in about an hour. We have, it appears, between five and six miles to go. That will take us full two hours. If the story we have heard is true--and for myself, strange as it is, I have no doubt about it--we shall have no difficulty in locating these Arabs. We shall fight at three; that will leave us three hours of daylight. That will suffice, I think. Lister, I should like a word with you."

"That means tactics, I suppose," said the doctor. "Well, while you're talking, I will tache Tom to help me pick up the pieces. Come along, my bhoy."

CHAPTER VII

Ambuscading an Ambush

Approaching the River--Reconnoitring--The Fight on the Bluff--Checking a Rush--Timely Help--A Hand-to-Hand Struggle--At Fault

Tom was that day amazed to see what could be done in an hour's time by a force of Askaris capably directed. By half-past twelve the officers'

tents had been rolled up, the baggage repacked, a meal swallowed, the carriers marshalled, each with his proper load, and the order of march arranged. Before one the whole column had moved out towards the scene of the antic.i.p.ated fight. Scouts led the way, under Lieutenant Mumford.

Then came the advance-guard, two companies of Askaris and a Maxim-gun, with Captain Lister. At a short interval followed more Soudanese, with Major Burnaby; then came the carriers with their guard, and finally the rear-guard, of which Tom found himself in command. Dr. O'Brien hovered about, first at one part of the column, then at another, in case of what he called "evenshualities".

Before giving the order to march, the major beckoned Tom apart.

"Tom," he said, "here's a rifle and a revolver for you. You know how to use the rifle, at any rate. Fate seems to have a hand in this, and as you're here, you must make yourself useful."

Tom's eyes gleamed as he took the weapon, and he mentally resolved to bear himself worthily, whatever was in store. His elation was a little dashed when his uncle went on:

"You'll consider yourself in command of the rear-guard. Judging by your conduct since you left Kisumu, you are able to win the respect of the natives, and that's everything. You'll find the non-coms. a steady set of men; and remember, you must rely on them and yourself. You mustn't worry me with questions about this, that, and t'other thing."

"All right, Uncle! I'm only too glad to be able to do anything."

"Very well then; I'll send for you if I want you."

Tom wished that he could have been with the advance-guard, but he kept that to himself, hoping that the chances of the day would give him an opportunity of doing even the smallest thing to justify his uncle's confidence. Then the march began. Askaris and carriers tramped on in single file, the Zanzibaris chattering and laughing in spite of the loads on their heads, it being one of the crosses of the major's existence that their tongues were never still. Some of them had kerosene cans slung round their necks, in clanging emptiness, for they had not as yet been needed, the rivulets along the route having furnished plenty of good drinking-water. Others carried bales and provision-boxes cleverly poised on their heads, each load averaging from forty to fifty pounds; while the rest bore large bags of onions (a favourite food with the native troops), tent-poles, pots and kettles, and other paraphernalia of the camp.

The pace was slow, and, thanks to the doctor's careful ministrations, Tom was able to keep up without difficulty. He would not confess even to himself that a full day's rest would have been grateful to him. The mid-day sun beat down upon the marching column with scorching ferocity.

For some distance the narrow path led over rolling country, broken here and there by rocky excrescences, with not an inch of shade, the only relief being afforded now and again by a brook, in which the men bathed their aching feet. At length, however, the appearance of scrub and trees ahead proclaimed the proximity of a larger stream. Tom had been wondering all the way what tactics his uncle would employ to checkmate the plans of the Arabs. He saw now that scouts were being sent out on each flank, and word was pa.s.sed down the column for the carriers to group themselves instead of marching in single file, and for the rear-guard to close up. While moving in open country the major had decided to make no change in the usual method of marching, so that nothing might suggest to the enemy, if he was on the look-out, that any special precautions were being taken. But now that the column had entered a wooded region, and was nearing the expected scene of operations, he thought it well to make his force more compact, especially as the path had here broadened into quite a respectable road.

The scouts on the flanks had orders not to penetrate more than half a mile into the forest on either side, the trees being close enough together to prevent anything in the nature of a rush beyond that limit.

It was now nearly three o'clock. The major ordered the guide to be brought to him, and questioned him on their distance from the river.

Learning that it was no more than three-quarters of a mile ahead, he called a halt and sent for his officers.

"Now, gentlemen," he said to the little group, "I a.s.sume that the story told by the guide is true. Our scouts have not sighted the enemy, which is pretty clear proof that if there is an enemy at all he is hiding. I am going to send sixteen picked men up the rear of the bluff--you see it rising yonder--from which, according to these men, the logs are to be flung down on to the bridge. Our fellows will dispose of the eight or nine Arabs who, it appears, are to manage the logs. They will then give the signal awaited by the enemy, who, we may suppose, are in hiding at least half a mile up and down stream, and these will come on, expecting to find us cut in two at the bridge and generally in confusion.--Well, what is it, Mumford?"

"I was wondering, sir," began the lieutenant, rather taken aback at finding his thoughts half-guessed-at by the major; "I was wondering what would happen if our men failed to dispose of the Arabs on the bluff."

"The enemy's plans would be spoilt, at any rate, and the engagement would develop on other lines. But the chances are in our favour. The bluff, as you see, is thickly wooded, and our men should be able to creep up quite noiselessly and get within striking distance without being seen. Besides, we will distract the enemy's attention. Remember, they are relying on our complete ignorance of their scheme. They will be impatient to see us cross the bridge. Well, I shall send a few scouts over to guard against a possible attack from the other side, and Captain Lister, with two or three men, will feign a careful examination of the bridge itself. The delay will probably be unexpected, and I count on this to enable our men to scale the bluff unperceived.

"Meanwhile the carriers will park all the baggage in a semicircle about the bridge head, under guard. I shall divide the force, taking part with me to repel the attack from the north--Mumford, you will work the Maxim--and leaving you, Lister, to meet the attack from the south.

Doctor, you will come with me, I think, as mine will be the larger force; and Tom, you will remain in charge of the baggage."

Tom tried to look pleased, but his face fell in spite of him. There was no help for it; he must obey orders and accept his strictly defensive part with a good grace.

"I cannot tell you our precise positions yet until scouts have been up and down the river and reported on the nature of the ground. Meanwhile, Lister, you will send forward, say, five scouts over the bridge, and the rest of us will move slowly behind you."