"One: the other had accompanied Reinecke."

"And how many askaris?"

"Six; the others had gone to Bismarckburg."

Tom pondered this information. He had no chance if he was caught; the likelihood of his being able to release Mirambo had almost vanished.

And what if the man, by some lucky stroke, were released? Would he consent to escape without his family? There were five in all: the larger the party, the more difficult to evade pursuit. "It's all utterly hopeless," thought Tom. "They will see it for themselves if I go and talk to them on the spot."

He told the boys what he proposed to do, at the same time warning them that no good would come of it. The promise overshadowed the warning: the m'sungu would go; every other good thing would follow. Half vexed, half amused by what seemed sheer unreason, Tom bade them sleep: perhaps with morning they would see facts as they were.

Before the glimmering dawn had penetrated the nullah, when the four-footed creatures had slunk to their dens and the birds were beginning to stir, the three clambered down on the outside of the zariba and started on their long tramp. Tom wished to reach the plantation before mid-day; he would then perhaps see for himself how the German drilled his dusky recruits.

On arriving in the neighbourhood of the plantation, Mwesa struck off to the left, and led the way stealthily through dense bush where there was no path, and none but himself could have found the track of his own previous journeys. They came presently to the stream that supplied the plantation with water. Climbing down the steep moss-covered bank, they crept quietly along the bed until they reached the thorn fence, which formed an impenetrable barrier across the stream. In the bank, just on the outside, Mwesa pulled aside a curtain of rank gra.s.s, revealing a hole scarcely larger than a drain pipe. Mushota crawled into it, Mwesa signed to Tom to follow him: he himself entered last, having remained to see that the gra.s.s fell naturally over the entrance to this narrow tunnel.

The pa.s.sage through the tunnel took less than a minute, but Tom felt almost suffocated before he reached open air again. He said to himself that it was like crawling in a grave. Some day, he thought, the earth will fall in; he wondered that such a tunnel, made with no art, had not collapsed long ago. Its inner end opened into the hollow trunk of a tree. Climbing until his eyes were on a level with a small hole scooped out of the wood, he looked out upon the plantation.

The tree was a few feet within the thorn fence. Some little distance to the left were the huts and sheds occupied by the negroes. In front of these was the broad, clear, level s.p.a.ce that was the usual playground of the children and the promenade of the elders when work was done. Now, however, no children sported upon it. Some sixty st.u.r.dy negroes, ranging in age from sixteen to forty and upwards, were drawn up in ranks. At each end hovered an Arab overseer with his whip. And facing the recruits, some yards away from them, stood the German sergeant, a stiff, thick-set, bull-necked soldier, differing from hundreds of his kind whom Tom had seen in Germany only in his uniform, which, more suited to the African climate, was less complimentary to the sergeant's tight figure.

The sergeant bellowed an order, in words that seemed to be German acclimatised; the negroes hesitated, then, each interpreting the command in his own way, became a mob instead of a half company. The German stamped and roared; the overseers cracked their whips; and the scared recruits scrambled back somehow into their original formation.

The sun beat fiercely down upon the scene, and the perspiring sergeant, a martyr to duty, drew a finger round the inside of his coat collar and tried again. Brandishing the light cane he carried, he hurled abuse at the negroes in his hybrid dialect, and having thus let off steam, repeated his sharp words of command. It was evident that he was attempting to teach the recruits how to form extended order from fours, and Tom almost sympathised with him as the men blundered in the simplest movements. They appeared to be unable to distinguish "right turn" from "left turn"; and even those who had once moved correctly seemed to be unable to remember for five minutes what they had learnt.

"Mirambo no dis place, sah," whispered Mwesa over his shoulder.

The words recalled the purpose of his visit. Mirambo was no doubt tied up in the hut which Reinecke used as a jail for refractory labourers. It was at the further end of the row of huts, in full view from every part of the parade ground. An askari was standing at ease outside it. Tom's sense of the hopelessness of any attempt at rescue was deepened. Surely Mwesa himself must realise it. Sorry as he was, Tom felt that there was nothing to be done.

A sudden commotion drew his attention once more to the drilling. The sergeant, incensed by the repeated blunders of one particularly stupid negro, had lifted his cane and dealt the man several vicious cuts across the face. Yelling with pain and rage, the victim had sprung upon the sergeant, hurled him to the ground, and seized him by the throat. Two of the overseers had just rushed to the spot, and were dragging the negro from the prostrate German. There was much chattering and excitement among the other recruits and the negroes who were looking on from the huts.

The sergeant rose stiffly to his feet, and with apoplectic fury ordered the Arabs to tie the culprit hand and foot. As they were doing so, Tom, who had been boiling with indignation at the German's brutality, had one of those sudden inspirations which are often turning-points in a career.

Bidding the two lads follow him, he clambered up to the fork of the tree, let himself down to the ground on the rear side, and ran, under cover of a line of bushes, until he was some thirty yards nearer the body of recruits. Then, stiffening himself, he emerged into the open, rifle in hand, and advanced with quick martial strides across the parade ground. Until that moment he had not been seen; the sergeant and the Arabs had their backs towards him; but the sudden silence that fell upon the negroes as they beheld the young m'sungu, who had been absent so long, followed by the two boys, attracted the German's attention. He swung round to see what it was that all eyes were fixed on so intently, and stared with amazement when, from the lips of the tall young white man within a few paces of him, came the sharp command in German--

"Sergeant, release that man."

The instinct of military obedience on which Tom had reckoned did not fail. The sergeant saluted; at a word from him the Arabs released the negro from his bonds; the recruits broke their ranks and rushed towards Tom with yells of delight, and from the dwellings along one side of the parade ground the whole negro population, men, women and children, trooped forth shouting welcome to the m'sungu, and utterly regardless of the overseers. The sergeant's authority had vanished. A few seconds before he had had behind him the prestige of German rule; in yielding to the command of an Englishman (whom he did not yet know as an Englishman) he had become a thing of naught to these impressionable Africans.

[Ill.u.s.tration: TOM MAKES A DIVERSION.]

Before he had collected his muddled wits he was surprised to hear that he was under arrest, and found himself on his way with two of the Arabs to the jail hut, under guard of two of his own askaris. Tom, wondering how long the man's stupefaction would last, followed to the hut, ordered Mirambo to be released, and the door to be shut and bolted.

As he turned away, he saw one of the overseers bolting across the parade ground in the direction of the gate.

"After him, Mwesa," he cried, and the boy, who had followed him like a shadow, instantly darted after the runaway, accompanied by a troop of his fellow negroes. The Arab, whose whip had formerly been a terror to them, was chased across the plantation, and, just as he reached the gate, was seized by a score of sinewy hands and hauled back with yells of triumphant glee, to join the other prisoners in the lock-up. Tom, with Mwesa as interpreter, ordered Mirambo to collect all the men on the parade ground, and there wait for him. Then, astonished and a little intimidated by his own success, he hurried to the bungalow. Reinecke was expected to return that evening. It was now past noon; within the next five or six hours there must be some hard thinking if this unexpected development was to be turned to the best account.

CHAPTER VIII--REINECKE RETURNS

At the bungalow the native servants received Tom with smiles of welcome.

It seemed that Reinecke had given out that his guest had gone away only for a time; that the war, a distant and unreal thing to them, could have turned apparent friends into enemies was as yet beyond their comprehension. Quickly and cheerfully they prepared a meal; and while Tom enjoyed food that, after the experiences of the past weeks, was incredible luxury, he bent all his wits to the solution of the amazing problem with which he was now faced.

Here he was, within a few minutes transformed from a fugitive and a wanderer into the absolute master of several hundreds of negroes. His lightest word would be law to them. The simple people were incapable of perceiving how precarious was his authority; to them he was just the m'sungu whom they admired and who had at a stroke altered the conditions of their existence.

The sergeant and three of the Arabs were for the present safely locked up. The remaining overseers, somewhere in hiding, could not leave the plantation, the gate being locked, to give warning to Reinecke on his homeward way of what had occurred. The askaris, always submissive to authority, probably took the newcomer for a German officer, and supposed the sergeant to have been guilty of some fault. And as for the negroes, there were something over a hundred able-bodied men who before long would have been askaris in the German service--unwilling recruits, but, in spite of their difficulties with drill, the raw material of excellent soldiers. That, at any rate, must be prevented.

How? Only by the immediate migration of the whole community. "A large order," thought Tom, knitting his brows. Yet not so difficult as it first appeared. These negroes had no possessions that they valued except their cooking-pots. Their natural life was the free open existence of the forest and the plain; they could build themselves huts in a day, and needed no furniture. The implements of their plantation work would be useful to them until they had made for themselves bows and arrows. A race of hunters, they would not want for food; besides, there were the plantation stores which could be conveyed away.

But in what direction could they go? Bismarckburg was only twenty miles distant; some ten miles nearer was the road to Neu Langenburg, no doubt studded with German military posts, and patrolled. As soon as the mutiny became known, a force would be dispatched from Bismarckburg, or a telegram sent along the road warning any troops that might be moving up for the projected attack on Abercorn. Thus a migration into British territory would be impossible. The Wahehe country was far to the north, within the German boundaries; there could be no safety for them there.

For the moment the problem seemed to be, to find a temporary refuge in some spot difficult of access, where the people might dwell in comparative security until the course of events became clear.

What better place could there be than the nullah he had lately left? It was within easy marching distance, yet far enough away, for while only about fifteen miles from the plantation, it was nearly twice that distance from Bismarckburg, and in the heart of the forest. Between its steep banks a much larger body than these few hundred people might take shelter. It was near water; the forest provided food to supplement what might be removed from Reinecke's storehouses. Within this natural fortress, strengthened by such art as the negroes under guidance were capable of, they might bid defiance to any but a well-equipped force, which circ.u.mstances might not allow the Germans to organise, and which in any case it would take time to set on foot. In the interval he might attempt to get into communication with the British beyond the border.

After half an hour's cogitation Tom had made up his mind. To ward off suspicion among the servants, he ordered them to hasten preparations for the meal which Reinecke would expect on his arrival, then hurried back to the negroes' quarters, his brain busy with his plans.

It was fortunate that he had in Mwesa a quick and efficient interpreter, and in Mirambo a devoted henchman whose former rank in his own country lent him authority with the rest of the natives. Through these two, uncle and nephew, he made arrangements for the exodus with a celerity that surprised himself. And if his brother Bob had been able to transport himself on a magic carpet to this spot in Central Africa, that hard-headed man of business would no doubt have been amazed at the qualities shown in this emergency by one whom, in his elder-brotherly att.i.tude, he was accustomed to call "the kid." The truth is, of course, that some people are happily born with the gift of organisation, though it may lie dormant, unsuspected, until occasion rouses it.

Tom's first measure was to arrange for the immediate evacuation of the women and children. Led by Mushota, and escorted by a band of the elder men, they were to leave the plantation and push on as far as possible on the way to the nullah while daylight lasted. At nightfall they would camp, and their escort would be at no loss to protect them until the dawn. Nor would they go empty-handed. Each woman, each child, would carry such household gear as would be useful, together with provisions for a meal or two.

While the women were merrily making their preparations, Tom got the men together, and set them to empty the store-sheds; to bring all the foodstuffs into the open, and divide them up into loads, under the direction of the men who were accustomed to serve as porters to and fro between Bismarckburg and the plantation. In one of the sheds, whose padlocked door he forced open, he was delighted to find the Mauser rifles which had recently been imported for the arming of the new recruits, together with a stock of small-arm ammunition. He set Mwesa to discover which of the men had had musketry instruction by the German sergeant, and arranged that these should have the rifles and a few rounds of cartridges when the packing was finished; and he warned them that if they fired without orders the rifles would be taken away and they would have to carry extra loads--a threat that was likely, he thought, to prove effectual. There were enough rifles to arm also a few of the older men, like Mirambo himself, who had had previous experience of firearms; and though their experience dated back a good many years, and the Mauser was a very different weapon from the old trade musket which they had formerly handled, he had no doubt that with a little practice they would soon outdo many of the recruits, whose instruction could not yet have been carried very far.

The half-dozen askaris looked surprised when they were ordered to lay down their arms and a.s.sist in the baling of the food; but Tom's air of a.s.sured authority imposed upon them, and they appeared to have no suspicion that he was a usurper until the women and children were ready to march out. It was not till then that Tom, feeling in his pocket for the duplicate key of the gate which Reinecke had given him, discovered that he had lost it, probably in his fall into the pit. The only other keys were in the possession of Reinecke and the princ.i.p.al overseer, and the latter, arrested in his attempt to escape, was locked in the prison-shed. Tom went to the shed to get this man's key, opened the door, and was amazed to find the place empty. All three Arabs and the German sergeant were gone. They had wrenched away some of the poles that formed the rear wall of the shed, and escaped unnoticed in the bustle attending the preparations for departure.

This discovery gave Tom an unpleasant, even an alarming shock. The loss of the key was a small matter; the gate could be forced; but if the men were already well on the way to give the alarm to Reinecke, as was only too likely, the whole scheme of escape was in danger of being utterly ruined. Without an instant's delay Tom hurried back, selected a dozen men whose build promised fleetness of foot, armed them with hoes and mattocks, and ran with them down to the gate, intending to burst the lock with a rifle-shot. He found, however, that the Arab, in his haste to escape, had left the key in the lock. The gate was open. Tom dispatched the natives along the road to capture the runaways. At this hour Reinecke was probably within eight or nine miles of the plantation, a distance which his bearers would take at least four hours to cover; but if the fugitives reached him, he would no doubt spring from his machila and hurry forward on foot, accompanied by his armed askaris. It seemed, then, that the evacuation of the place must be completed within three hours at the most.

Luckily the women were ready, and Tom ordered them at once to set off.

It was then that the askaris became suspicious, and began to put their heads together; but Tom stamped out any spark of mutiny that might have been kindled by separating the men, and a.s.signing to them places among the natives who were now preparing to mount their loads. Disarmed, with armed men around them, the askaris dared not disobey; and within a few minutes after the departure of the women they were marching out among the first contingent of the Wahehe, each bearing a weighty bundle upon his head. Mirambo had selected the steadiest of his fellows to form this first band, who were to follow the women, lay down their loads at the proposed camping place, and then return at once for more. Meanwhile the other three overseers had been rounded up, bound, and placed under guard: there must be no more fugitives.

While Mirambo was superintending the packing of the remainder of the stores, Tom was wrestling with another problem. Reinecke would arrive about sunset. He would find the gate locked as usual, and the silence of the plantation would not awaken suspicion, for work hours were over, and he would suppose the workers to have returned to their distant quarters, out of earshot from the central road and from the bungalow.

But as soon as he reached the bungalow the fat would be in the fire. He would expect the princ.i.p.al overseer and the German sergeant to be awaiting him, to give in their reports. Not finding them, he would send one of the servants to fetch them. In ten minutes, or little more, all would be known. What would he do? Perhaps lead his askaris in pursuit, perhaps dispatch a runner to the nearest post on the Neu Langenburg road to bring up reinforcements. In either case the flight of the people would be hara.s.sed; they might be caught before they had reached their defensive position. Tom saw that to gain time was of prime importance.

How could he gain time? It would be possible to ambush Reinecke and his party in the woods close to the plantation. Even if they had been warned by the fugitive overseers and the sergeant, they would probably not suspect that the Englishman would attempt, with untrained natives, to trap seasoned soldiers. But an ambush would involve the necessity of firing without warning, and Tom was too raw at the game of war to adopt so cold-blooded a course.

Another idea suggested itself which, hazardous as it seemed, had a certain attractiveness that commended it to Tom's sense of sport He called up Mwesa.

"What does Reinecke do when he comes back from Bismarckburg with askaris?" he asked.

"Him eat all too much," replied the boy.

"Yes, but I mean what does he do before that? Where does he dismiss the askaris?"

"Dey all go to house, sah; stand outside; den he make um say one, two, three; den dey go home."

Tom gathered that Reinecke was accustomed to hold a sort of inspection parade before dismissing the men to their shed several hundred yards away. From his own experience he knew the method of procedure with the porters. These brought their loads to the bungalow; the goods were checked off by Yakoub, the native clerk, then carried to the store-sheds.

"Very good, Mwesa.... Here come my scouts--without prisoners. See what they say."

The twelve men he had sent in pursuit of the runaways reported that they had run almost to Bismarckburg--a typical native exaggeration at which Tom smiled. They had seen Reinecke and his party coming slowly up the road: neither the overseers nor the sergeant were with them. Since the African has no measure either of time or distance Tom could not discover exactly how far away Reinecke was when the men saw him; but on his asking when the party would arrive, the spokesman pointed to the sun and then stooped and moved his hand along just above the ground.