"MacGreg him make for maquisha," declared Bela Moshi grimly, as he carefully blacked the foresight of his rifle.

"Maquisha" in the Haussa language signifies something more than finished. A man might say, "I've finished eating," for example, and yet in a few hours he will be again satisfying his hunger, but "maquisha" signifies finished in the penultimate sense--the final extermination of a certain person or thing.

"No, no, Bela Moshi," said Wilmshurst decidedly. "We want MacGreg taken prisoner. That's important. Pa.s.s the word along; tell the men that there's a month's pay to the Haussa who takes MacGreg alive."

It was rather a tall order, and Wilmshurst knew it. MacGregor, now openly a traitor, would not be likely to surrender in view of the fact that a drum-head court-martial and an ignominious death in front of a firing-party would certainly be his fate.

Returning his field gla.s.ses and confidently snapping the lid of the case Wilmshurst gave the word to advance in open order. He had decided upon a position about two hundred yards short of the derelict aircraft, guessing that the still unsuspecting enemy would concentrate upon that objective, and thus form a compact and easy target for the Haussas'

rifles.

Naturally concluding that the airmen had chosen the most open stretch of ground available for the purpose of making their landing, Wilmshurst found that his judgment was sound. Right in the centre of the valley the scrub was almost entirely absent, the ground being covered with gra.s.s little more than ankle deep in height and absolutely devoid of cover over a belt of nearly four hundred yards in width.

Up to a certain point the Huns showed caution, for presently two Askaris, pushing on ahead of the main body, came into view. That they expected no danger was apparent from the fact that they had their rifles slung. At the sight of the derelict seaplane they stood stock-still, for it was the first aircraft at rest that they had seen.

Then bounding across the intervening stretch of gra.s.s they wandered round and round the machine, jabbering and pointing out to each other various parts of the aeroplane that particularly struck their attention.

The shrill blasts of a whistle diverted their thoughts into another direction. The officer in charge of the Askari column had signalled to the scouts to advance and examine the scrub beyond the place where the seaplane stood.

Like well-trained dogs the two native soldiers obeyed, and with their rifles still slung they hastened towards the position occupied by the alert Haussas, pa.s.sing between two clumps of cacti behind which were hiding Tari Barl, No Go, Double-headed Penny and two more of No. 1 Section.

The Haussas let them pa.s.s. Unsuspicious the Askaris proceeded until their movements were hidden from their friends by the intervening scrub, then with hardly a sound the five lithe and muscular Waffs leapt upon them.

Before the startled men could even utter a gurgle they were lying flat on their backs, unable to move hand or foot, while a hand laid over their mouths and a keen-edged bayonet laid across their throats warned them that silence was the only alternative to sudden death.

Accepting the former choice the prisoners were bound and gagged, and taken a hundred yards or so into the bush, a Haussa mounting guard over them to make sure that the wily Askaris did not slip their bonds.

Wilmshurst's anxiety was now the thought that the main body would not emerge from the bush, since the two scouts were not able to signal that all was well. Several minutes pa.s.sed, but still the German troops failed to debouch from the scrub.

A stealthy footstep behind him made the subaltern turn his head. To his surprise he saw Bela Moshi rigged out in the uniform and equipment of one of the captives.

"Me give Bosh-bosh de word 'Come on' one time quick, sah," he announced. "Me know how."

Wilmshurst did not think fit to enquire how the resourceful sergeant acquired the information. There are times when an officer does well not to question his subordinate's actions.

"Very good, carry on," he whispered.

Standing in a gap between two clumps of bushes Bela Moshi, grasping his rifle a few inches from the muzzle, held the weapon vertically above his head moving it to and fro five or six times.

The decoy signal was almost immediately answered by the appearance of the main body of the Askaris and with them the three Europeans, who were still mounted.

Wilmshurst let them approach until the foremost Askaris were within a hundred yards of the seaplane. They were now in no semblance of order, surging impetuously forward, their officers towering head and shoulders above the throng.

Sharp and shrill rang out the subaltern's whistle. A volley, crisp and clear, burst from the line of admirably concealed Haussas, then each man "let rip" as fast as he could withdraw, and thrust home the bolt of his rifle and bring the weapon to his shoulder.

It was such a tremendous surprise that for a moment the Askaris, save those who dropped, stood stock still. Then, panic-stricken, they broke and fled, the German officers setting them the example.

As the so-called MacGregor wheeled his horse Bela Moshi, who had withheld his fire, saw his opportunity. At five hundred yards he sent a bullet crashing through the devoted animal's head. Like a stone the horse dropped, throwing its rider to the earth.

By some means the dried gra.s.s took fire, the flames crackling and roaring as they spread with great rapidity, fortunately away from the broken-down seaplane. Through the whirling clouds of smoke could be faintly discerned the backs of the fugitives, many of whom dropped as they ran with a Haussa's bullet betwixt their shoulder blades, while remorselessly the devouring element made its way in the direction of the place where the traitor had fallen.

So complete was the demoralization of the foe that Wilmshurst had now no hesitation in ordering an advance at the double. Although the German levies still greatly outnumbered the Haussas the former had--in Tommy parlance--"the wind up properly," and numerical superiority no longer counted.

With fixed bayonets the platoon swept forward. Over the path of the fire the Haussas rushed, the still glowing embers failing to deter them, their bare feet notwithstanding. Yelling and shouting they pursued their foes, sweeping aside all isolated attempts at resistance, until the remnants of the hostile column were driven more than two miles from the scene of their surprise.

It took considerable efforts on the part of the non-commissioned officer to make the highly-elated Haussas desist from pursuit, but Wilmshurst knew too well the rashness of a prolonged chase through difficult country. Retiring, picking up wounded and prisoners as they went, the Waffs re-formed on arriving at the open belt of ground where the brilliant little victory had commenced.

By this time the scrub was well alight, fanned by the strong south-easterly breeze. The fire was also working against the wind, but the concerted efforts of the Haussas prevented it approaching the derelict aircraft.

In vain a search was made for the traitor who was known to the Haussas as MacGreg. His horse, surrounded by half a dozen badly-charred corpses, was discovered, but of the rider there were no signs.

Reluctantly Wilmshurst was forced to come to the conclusion that fortune had favoured the recreant, and that under cover of the dense smoke the fellow had either crawled away or else had been carried by some of the Askaris.

CHAPTER X

PREPARATIONS

"Well, sergeant; how many casualties?"

Bela Moshi, wearing a broad smile, saluted.

"Bra.s.s Pot, him head-bone blown inside out," he replied, as cheerfully as only a Haussa can when reporting losses amongst his comrades.

"Nimshi Pali, him no good--maquisha. Dat all dead, but plenty much Haussa hurt--so many."

He indicated by means of his fingers that fifteen were more or less seriously wounded, a fairly heavy toll of the sixty odd men who had paraded that morning. Nevertheless, the sacrifice had not been made in vain, for a numerically stronger force had been completely routed with the loss of eighteen left dead upon the field, and thirty-eight wounded and unwounded prisoners, together with fifty-nine Mauser rifles, which, for want of transport, were smashed after the bolt action of each had been removed.

Having taken proper precautions against a surprise counter-attack, although such a step was unlikely in view of the demoralization of the defeated force, Wilmshurst directed his attention to the object of the expedition--the saving of the seaplane.

West African natives are as a rule good carpenters and blacksmiths, and the Haussas were no exception. Under Wilmshurst's directions they set to work to dismantle the machine, removing the planes as carefully and expeditiously as a party of crack mechanics from the Royal Air Force factories. One of the floats was badly smashed, but the other was practically intact except for a small jagged hole in the three-ply mahogany.

In a couple of hours the machine was ready for transport across five miles of bush country, although, fortunately, the ground was fairly level.

A pair of mountain gun wheels on a broad base-line had been brought for the purpose, and the cha.s.sis, engine included, was rested on the axle.

Relays of men steadied and propelled the heavy load, others armed with axes and entrenching spades going on ahead to clear the path. Other parties transported the floats and planes, while advance and rear guards and flankers were thrown out to guard against a possible surprise, while an escort had to be provided for the prisoners.

With frequent halts it was not surprising that the rate of progress was roughly one and a half miles an hour, and it was close on sunset when the rescued seaplane arrived at the banks of a small river, where the Waffs, having struck camp in the vicinity of Gwelba, had only just marched in.

Colonel Quarrier was delighted with Wilmshurst's report and personally complimented him upon the way in which he had accomplished the difficult task with which he had been entrusted, and also the brilliant little action, which was quite unexpected.

"Pity you didn't either plug or capture that worthless scoundrel MacGregor," he remarked, for there was now no doubt about the utter faithlessness of the supposed Rhodesian. "A man like that will cause more trouble than a dozen machine-guns. I suppose, in the course of former conversations with him, you did not detect any trace of a foreign accent?"

"None whatever, sir," replied Dudley.

"Or mannerisms?"

Again the subaltern replied in the negative.

"I can only hope," continued Colonel Quarrier, "that the fellow isn't an Englishman. It is just possible that he is of German nationality, and that long years of residence either in Great Britain or the colonies has enabled him to totally suppress his Hunnish accent and traits, although it is almost an impossible matter to eradicate his sympathies for his kultured Fatherland. 'Once a German, always a German,' you know."