Wilmshurst of the Frontier Force Part 16

As a result of this somewhat mystifying intelligence Wilmshurst entered the dug-out. Descending a flight of a dozen wooden steps he gained the ante-room, a s.p.a.ce fifteen feet in length and about seven in breadth.

It was absolutely proof against the heaviest gun employed in the German East campaign, while, as a safeguard against bombs that might be lobbed into their retreat, the door of the second room was protected by a wall of sandbags backed with ma.s.sive slabs of African teak.

By the aid of flaming brands held by the blacks Wilmshurst was able to make a rapid, but none the less complete examination of the shelter.

Evidently it was the headquarters dug-out, judging by the smashed telephone, the pile of broken instruments, and the heap of paper ash that littered the floor.

At the subaltern's order the blacks prodded the walls with their bayonets and hammered the floor with the b.u.t.t ends of their rifles, but no suspicion of the existence of a concealed "funk-hole" was to be traced.

"Precious little here," commented Wilmshurst. "I'll have to keep the place open for the colonel's inspection, I suppose."

Regaining the open air he posted a sentry over the entrance and, collecting the German prisoners, awaited the arrival of the C.O.

By this time all resistance on the summit of M'ganga was over. Away to the north-east came occasional reports of rifle-firing, showing that the Pathans and the Rhodesian horse were engaging the fugitives.

The one fly in the ointment was the escape of von Gobendorff. There was, of course, the possibility that he had been shot or had contrived to slip away during the action. In the latter case he had the cordon of troops to take into consideration; but knowing the wiliness of the man and the fluency with which he spoke English, Dudley began to feel rather dubious concerning the Hun's apprehension.

Otherwise the brilliant little affair was highly successful.

Practically the whole of von Linderfelt's staff had been either killed or captured; most of the Germans in the firing-line had shared a similar fate, while the surviving Askaris were either captured or had escaped in small numbers through the lines of the encircling forces.

Von Lindenfelt had not counted upon the use of light artillery against his strong position, but the fire of the mountain batteries, a.s.sisted by the seaplane's bombs, had proved terribly destructive. Of the 4.1-inch guns mounted for the defence not one remained intact, their destruction materially helping the Waffs in their frontal attack. A considerable quant.i.ty of military stores also fell into the hands of the victors, much of the booty being found upon examination to have been sent to German East Africa during the last three months.

As a result of the operation a large hostile column operating in the neighbourhood of the Rovuma had ceased to exist. There were other roving forces still in the district, and against these the Haussas were to operate in conjunction with other detachments.

"It's all right when we catch Fritz sitting," remarked Spofforth. "The trouble is that he strongly objects to be caught. We'll have to chase him from the Rovuma to Kilimanjaro and back before we square up this business."

"And, even then, corner him in Cape Town," added Danvers facetiously.

"I can see myself spending my seventieth birthday on this job."

CHAPTER XIII

THE FUGITIVE

On the evening of the capture of M'ganga a white man, fatigued and desperately hungry, stood irresolute upon the banks of the Kiwa River, roughly forty miles from the scene of the Waffs' successful operations.

It would have been a difficult matter to recognise in the jaded man the once well-set-up individual known in certain quarters as Robert MacGregor; nor was there much resemblance between the fugitive and the German secret service agent, Ulrich von Gobendorff--yet the man was none other than he whom the officers of the Haussa regiment particularly wished to lay by the heels.

By a series of hair-breadth escapes von Gobendorff had succeeded in making his way past the Pathan infantry picquets. For twenty minutes he had crouched up to his neck in the miasmatic waters of a forest pool, with thousands of mosquitoes buzzing round his unprotected head, while a patrol of the Rhodesian Light Horse halted within twenty yards of his place of concealment.

And now, with a strip of linen tied round his head, a ragged cotton shirt, a pair of "shorts" that were hardly any protection from the th.o.r.n.y cacti, and a pair of badly-worn "veldt schoen" as the sum total of his clothing and footgear von Gobendorff awaited the fall of night in the depths of a tropical forest.

His limbs were covered with scratches that were causing him intense pain and irritation; his face was swollen under the attacks of mosquitoes, until his bloodshot eyes were hardly visible above his puffed up cheeks. Unarmed with the exception of an automatic pistol, he was about to brave the dangers of a night 'midst malarial mists and wild beasts of an African forest.

As the sun sank von Gobendorff collected a heap of wood and leaves and kindled a fire. For the present he judged that he was practically free from pursuit. In any case he would take the risk of lighting a fire.

It was not likely that British patrols would be wandering through the dense tropical vegetation during the hours of darkness.

Under the wide-spreading branches of a baobab the Hun was able to make one fire serve his purpose. Ordinarily he would have lighted three or four at a distance of five or six yards from each other, and thus found comparative immunity from the attacks of lions and hippos, but the baobab--it reminded him of a certain incident when he was "attached" to the Haussas--was able to protect both rear and flank from the voracious a.s.saults of any four-footed creatures.

As the fire blazed brightly von Gobendorff consumed his last ration--a small cube of highly-concentrated food, which he had in his possession on the development of the attack on M'ganga. Throughout his flight, although tormented with the pangs of hunger, he had resolutely refused to draw upon his scanty commissariat. And now it was eaten: for the rest of his journey he would have to depend upon his wits to obtain food. Rather grimly he reflected that an automatic .302, although an efficient "man-stopper" in a _melee_, was not to be compared with a rifle as a means of procuring food.

Although inured to exposure in a tropical country von Gobendorff was feeling severely the effect of the sun upon his insufficiently protected limbs. In the rapidly cooling air his blistered skin was stretched so tightly that every movement of his neck, arms and legs gave him intense pain. The mosquitoes, owing to the glare of the burning wood, had ceased their attacks, but the effect of their previous onslaughts was greatly in evidence.

Slowly and carefully lying down on a pile of broad leaves the Hun tried to fall asleep, but in vain. Racked in every limb, his head throbbing as if it harboured a rapidly working piston, he endured--waiting for the dawn that would give him no respite from his torments.

Presently the denizens of the forest began their nocturnal activities.

In the sluggishly-flowing river hippopotami floundered noisily.

Elephants crashed through the brushwood making their way to the water, while at intervals rhinoceri and bush-cows charged blindly past the fiercely burning fire. Von Gobendorff was in a big game hunter's paradise, but he failed utterly to show enthusiasm at the prospect.

At intervals he crawled to his reserve stock of fuel to replenish the fire, knowing that if he allowed the comforting and protecting flame to die out he stood an almost certain chance of falling a victim to a four-footed foe. Once a large bush-cow thundered almost through the blazing logs, bellowing frantically as a panther with its claws deeply dug into the huge brute's hide was remorselessly tearing at the throat of its prey.

Monkeys, too, huge simians looking human-like in the dull red glare, came shuffling from the shadow of the neighbouring trees to gaze fixedly at the unusual sight of a fire. Muttering, chattering and gesticulating they watched the Hun's bivouac for several minutes until the sudden spring of a large cat-like animal claimed one victim and sent the rest of the monkeys flying for their lives.

With the first streak of dawn the nocturnal Baccha.n.a.lia ceased. Von Gobendorff, who had longed for the break of day in order to resume his flight to a supposedly safe refuge in the Karewenda Hills, found himself unable to resist the sleep of utter exhaustion, and as the last faint wreath of pale grey smoke rose from the dying embers he dropped into a deep slumber.

He awoke to find the glade bathed in brilliant sunshine. The sun was almost overhead, while he himself was lying in the dense shadow cast by the overspreading branches of the baobab. Through an opening in the otherwise dense foliage he could see the river rippling in the dazzling light, while partly hauled up the bank and partly resting between the reeds was a canoe--a dug-out of about twenty-five feet in length.

"Himmel!" muttered the German. "This is indeed good fortune."

The means of crossing the broad Kiwa River was at his command. He had made up his mind on the previous evening to risk a horrible death by attempting to swim the stream. He had seen what appeared to be logs drifting silently with the eddying current--logs that on the approach of danger would reveal themselves in their true characters, for the river swarmed with hippopotami.

Von Gobendorff was on the point of issuing from his retreat when the sound of voices and the rustling of the brushwood warned him that the owners of the canoe were returning.

Listening intently he recognised the dialect as that of the Birwas--a native tribe occupying a considerable tract of the hinterland. He knew the language well--he had the Hun's typical capability of acquiring a knowledge of foreign tongues.

Presently the blacks came in sight--two lithe and stalwart natives armed with primitive bow and spear. One man carried the hindquarters of a gnu, the other had a brace of birds dangling from the haft of his spear.

With an effort von Gobendorff pulled himself together and strode boldly into the open.

Halting, he signed imperiously to the Birwas to approach.

The blacks obeyed promptly. Experience had taught them to carry out the behests of their German masters with the utmost celerity. With every indication of abas.e.m.e.nt they approached and awaited the white man's orders.

Von Gobendorff pointed to the still warm embers of the fire.

"I am hungry," he said. "Get me something to eat and drink, and be sharp."

While one of the Birwas cut strips of flesh from the gnu and spitted them on skewers, the other placed more wood on the fire and coaxed it into a blaze. The grilling operation in progress the fire-tender ran to the canoe to return with a couple of small gourds of water, some dried berries somewhat resembling coffee beans and a flat cake of mealie bread.

Von Gobendorff soon discovered that the natives had been serving in the German outpost at G'henge, a position overrun and captured by a Sikh battalion about three months previously. They had, they declared, been very well treated by their new masters.

The fugitive smiled grimly, immediately wincing as the movement of the facial muscles gave him a thrill of pain. It was evident, he reasoned, that the Birwas had mistaken him for an officer of the British forces.

Hardly able to wait until the meal was prepared von Gobendorff turned to and ate with avidity, washing down the food with copious draughts of hot and far from palatable beverage. Having refreshed he ordered the blacks to hide all traces of his bivouac and made them carry him to the canoe. He realised how imperative it was that he should cover his tracks, and by no means the least important measure was to prevent any prints of his veldt schoen being discovered on the moist marshland on the river bank.

"Take me to Kossa," ordered von Gobendorff, naming a small military post on the Kiwa about thirty miles down the river, and at a point where the stream made a semi-circular bend before running in a south-westerly direction to join the Rovuma.

For the first time the Birwas demurred.