He had a.s.sisted Tom gently into the litter slung between the two stolid Soudanese; and thus, with a sense of peace and comfort for all his weariness, the wanderer was ushered into the presence of his uncle.

"Hullo, Corney!" shouted the major, as he caught sight of the litter, his jolly voice sounding the very keynote of cheerfulness, and sending a thrill through Tom's soul. "Hullo, Corney! another of your pet malingerers, eh?"

"Not this time. This fellow--would ye believe it?--won't admit there's anything wrong with 'm. Better prepare for a shock, old man. I've not asked 'm yet what 'tis that's brought 'm here, but--

"Good heavens, it's Tom!" cried the major in amazement, which speedily blazed into wrath. "Well, of all the confounded, impudent, disob--"

"Hould yer whisht!" interrupted the doctor. "Do ye not see the lad's dead-beat entirely! The blazes 'll keep. Really, Major, there's something at the bottom of this, or he would not be here. He needs some food first thing; you've got your tent up, I see. Well then, I'll get Saladin to make some Liebig, and when I've had my innings with the bhoy--well, blaze away if you must."

The major said no more. His tent was pitched in the centre of a thorn zariba a hundred and twenty yards square, and the men were busily engaged in running up gra.s.s huts and entrenching the camp. Tom was carried to the tent, where in a very short time the energetic little doctor had a steaming bowl of beef-tea, some substantial biscuits, and a bottle of burgundy ready for him. He ought, after his meal, said the doctor, to go to sleep, but Tom declared he could not rest until he had explained his presence, and the doctor gave way, being indeed not a little curious to hear Tom's story. He therefore fetched the major, who was indefatigable in his personal superintendence of the camping arrangements, and, with a private hint to him not to be peppery, brought him into the tent.

They listened attentively as Tom told how Mbutu had come to him on the night of the starting of the expedition, and, on learning that Tom was the major's nephew, had reported the conversation he had overheard; and how he had come with the boy on the padre's launch to the mouth of the Ruezi, and thence by canoe and overland. The major was at first inclined to pooh-pooh the story altogether, but when the doctor pointed out that unless there was some truth in it, the Portuguese would have had no object in pursuing Tom so hotly, he looked grave, and tugged at the ends of his moustache.

"But he had other grounds for annoyance. n.o.body likes to be knocked down--and certainly not a Portuguese. But where's that boy of yours, by the by? I will see him myself."

"I told him to wait a couple of miles out, so as not to be seen by your guide," replied Tom.

"Quite right; but it's dark now. I'll send a couple of men to bring him in. We must see how this remarkable story squares with present circ.u.mstances."

The major returned rather more than an hour later. "Hasn't that black boy turned up yet?" he asked.

"Give'm time," answered the doctor. "'Tis two miles out and two miles in, remember."

"Well, he won't be long now. By the way, Tom, what race does he belong to?--Banyoro, Baganda, or what?"

"He's a Bahima," replied Tom.

"Muhima," corrected the major, "Muhima for the individual. His people the Bahima are the aristocrats of the country! They've degenerated through mixing with the negroes, but I've no doubt they really are far-away descendants of the ancient Egyptians. Here he is!" added the major, as Mbutu was pushed into the tent by the orderly. "Well, my boy, don't be afraid of me; I'm your master's uncle. Just come and tell me all about it."

Mbutu told the story in his long-winded stumbling way, the major listening attentively, and helping him when he stuck for a word.

"Well now, did you hear those two men mention any place in the course of their talk?"

Mbutu thought for a moment.

"Imubinga, sah!" he said at last. "I know dat. Imubinga! Oh yes!"

"Imubinga! Corney, that's the place, you remember, where the guide said we should camp to-morrow; the inhabitants are likely to have a good supply of food, he said, and that's a blessing in such a spa.r.s.ely-populated district. This begins to look more serious. I'll send scouts forward first thing in the morning to see if the guide's information is correct so far as it goes. Imubinga, you remember he told us, is in a plain on the far side of a range of hills, got at through a long defile of six miles or so. If that turns out correct, depend upon it this precious ambush will be laid somewhere about the end of the defile. Ambush, indeed! What do they take me for! Still, you never know; we'll be on the safe side."

"Hungry, boy?" asked the doctor, turning to Mbutu.

"No, sah," replied Mbutu promptly. "Berrah nice chicken in pot, sah.

Big black soldier gib some. Oh yes!"

"Well," said the major with a smile, "you'll stay in my tent to-night, and understand you are not to go out without leave. The guide must not see you. Why, Corney, Tom's asleep. Did you doctor his wine, eh?"

"Just the least touch in his second gla.s.s. 'Twill do the boy good.

Sure 'tis sleep he wants."

"D'you know, Corney, I'm proud of this nephew of mine."

"An' ye ought to be, ye ould martinet."

"You wouldn't have me tell him so to his face, would you? Well now, I'll go and see Lister about the scouts; may as well send Mumford in charge, don't you think? And then I must stop the men's jabber; they'll cackle till two in the morning if I don't."

"Faith, 'tis time I turned in myself. Good-night, Major!"

Major Burnaby arranged with Captain Lister for the despatch of a scouting-party at daybreak under Lieutenant Mumford. Then he made a round of the camp to see that the watch-fires were alight and the sentries properly posted. Finding that the men had finished their supper, he sternly bade them stop talking and go to sleep. Soon the clacking of nine hundred tongues ceased, and the camp lay all peaceful beneath the rising moon.

CHAPTER VI

Unmasked

Cross Questions--Crooked Answers--The Guide Tells his Story--Rumaliza's Plot--The Coming Fight

It was eight o'clock next morning when Tom opened his eyes and tried to remember where he was. Stretching himself on the narrow camp-bed, the twinge that shot from his calves to his shoulders reminded him of his two days' tramp, and he hoped very sincerely that the force was not to move on at once. Luckily for him his uncle had decided to give the men a rest for a few hours, at any rate until the return of the scouts, who had started at six o'clock. The doctor, coming into the tent soon after nine, insisted on his taking a hot bath, and then spent an hour in ma.s.saging him. It was in vain that Tom protested against being coddled.

"Coddled indeed! You've a march and a fight in front of you, and ye'll want the free use of your limbs and all your staying-power, sure."

"A fight!" said Tom eagerly; "d'you think Uncle Jack will let me take part in it, Doctor?"

The doctor smiled grimly.

"I don't know about Uncle Jack, young man, but if you're not in it there will be no fight at all."

Pondering this enigmatical utterance, Tom left the tent by and by and strolled round the camp. Captain Lister met him and greeted him warmly, without a word as to what had brought him, and when he encountered his uncle, who was, as usual, full of activity, yet without a vestige of fussiness, that capital soldier had time to grip his hand and hope he was getting "fit".

The four Europeans were sitting beneath the flap of the tent, eating a late breakfast of roast goat and banana fritters, when Lieutenant Mumford returned with his little body of Soudanese scouts and reported himself. Tom had seen very little of him during the few days he had spent at Kisumu, and then thought he was too dandified and lackadaisical to be of much use on active service. He was therefore somewhat surprised now to hear what a business-like and competent account the lieutenant gave of his movements. He had penetrated, he said, to within two miles of the hills beyond which lay the objective of the expedition.

He had met with no sign of the enemy, Arab or native, but had seen many a proof of their depredations in the ruined huts and blackened fields pa.s.sed on the way. The native populations, spa.r.s.e in these regions at any time, seemed now to have been either exterminated or carried into captivity. What the guide had said about the nature of the country, and the difficulty of procuring food, was perfectly true; and the scouts had only turned back when they reached the near end of the defile he had mentioned, Mumford considering it useless to spend time in traversing a perfectly open route.

"Very well," said the major. "You'd better get something to eat now, Mumford."

"There's one thing I ought to mention first. We've brought back a native with us, sir--from Visegwe's country, he said. He told us that his village had been raided by Arabs, and himself carried off as a slave and employed as a porter and general hack. His account of how he escaped is rather tall, but I can only repeat what he said. He was marching with the rest of his gang when a couple of rhinoceroses charged the column, and threw things into such confusion that he found a chance to slip away. He was making his way back home when he met us, so I thought it just as well to bring him along in case he could give us some useful information."

"Quite right, Mumford. Send the fellow here. Tom, I suppose that boy of yours is a bit of a linguist, eh? He may as well do the interpreting."

While Lieutenant Mumford was gone to fetch the native, the major took out his map and spread it out on a s.p.a.ce cleared on the folding table.

"Yes, I see," he said; "if this native comes from the Arab quarters beyond the Rutchuru, his road homewards would lie across our line of march. He may be useful to us. A strapping fellow, Corney; look at him."

The negro, a finely proportioned young Ankoli, some twenty-five years of age, came up under a guard of Soudanese, who left him standing before the major. In answer to questions, he repeated the story given by Lieutenant Mumford, with some variations which might have been due to Mbutu's capacity for translation. He added that while hiding in the Wutaka hills, with the Kutchuru spread out before him, he had seen the Arabs cross the river and disappear among the hills to the west, retiring no doubt to the distant stronghold whence they made their raids. The man told his story frankly and ingenuously, and answered the major's questions without hesitation. As he described the atrocities committed by the Arabs, his language and gestures were expressive of intense indignation, and indicated that no vengeance could be too terrible for his oppressors.

"Do you know a place called Imubinga?" asked the major quietly, when the man had finished.

At the word, Tom, who was watching him intently, saw his eyelids droop for the fraction of a second. Imubinga! Yes, he knew it; a deserted village a mile or so on the other side of the hills; a capital camping-place, being sheltered by forests trees and well situated as regards water. The major made a rough plan with bits of biscuit and stalks of gra.s.s, and asked the native to show him as well as he could the whereabouts of Imubinga, knowing that the African is very clever in thus constructing picture plans. This done, he marked the place tentatively on his map and dismissed the man.