"There are strong rapids a little distance down stream," declared one.

"We are not skilled in working a canoe. Can we not take you across to our village, where there are plenty of men who will paddle you to Kossa?"

"My word," said von Gobendorff, "is law."

To add greater emphasis to his words he produced his automatic pistol.

The argument was conclusive. With every indication of fear the two natives pushed off, and seizing the paddles they propelled the unwieldy craft down stream.

Compared with his previous mode of travelling the Hun found the journey bordering almost upon the luxurious. He would have preferred a cushion, a double helmet and a sun-umbrella with a canopy thrown in, but reflecting that he was fortunate in being able to tackle the Kiwa without having to resort to swimming, he endured the glare with comparative equanimity.

Concerning the perils of the rapids he decided to take his chances. It was just possible that the Birwas had lied, hoping to deter him from his purpose. That they were fairly experienced in the art of canoeing was evident by the way in which they skilfully avoided the numerous hippopotami, their broad-bladed paddles entering the water without the faintest suspicion of a splash.

Whenever, as frequently happened, the canoe pa.s.sed a native village von Gobendorff, no doubt with the loss of a certain amount of prestige, took up a position at full length at the bottom of the canoe, strictly warning his boatmen that they were to maintain absolute silence as far as his presence was concerned.

The canoe had barely pa.s.sed a small collection of huts when the two Birwas began to jabber vociferously, pointing at an object a hundred yards ahead.

"Why this noise?" demanded von Gobendorff, who understood the cause of the conversation. "You have pa.s.sed dozens of 'river-cows' before?"

"This one is awake and furious," replied one of the natives. "We sought to keep to the bank, and the animal has seen us."

The Hun sat up and drew his pistol. A brief glance on either hand showed that there were no signs of escape by running the canoe ash.o.r.e.

The banks were here quite twenty feet in height, precipitous and topped with dense vegetation. There was deep water close to land, while in mid-stream a mud-bank just showed above the swirling current.

"Go on!" he ordered.

The men plied their paddles vigorously. Although the heavily-constructed canoe was incapable of any great speed, and was also undermanned, the commotion of the paddles and the frantic shouts of the two blacks made up for the lack of manoeuvring powers. The hippo dived. The canoe shot past.

Von Gobendorff breathed freely, but he was too premature. The hippopotamus reappeared amidst a smother of foam. Its wide-open jaws closed up on the gunwale of the dug-out.

The canoe listed dangerously. The Birwas still further endangered its stability by standing upright and raining absolutely ineffectual blows with their paddles upon the armour-plated head of the amphibian. The air in the vicinity of the heeling craft was thick with spray and flying fragments of woodwork.

Raising his pistol von Gobendorff placed the muzzle within an inch of the hippo's right eye, and fired two shots in quick succession. Then, without waiting to observe the effect, he put two bullets into the animal's left eye.

With a stupendous jerk that dipped the badly shattered gunwale under the water the hippo relaxed its grip and disappeared. Whether mortally wounded or not there were no means of ascertaining, but the brute was seen no more.

Throwing their paddles into the bottom of the canoe the two natives, crouching on the uninjured side to keep the jagged hole above the surface, plied their gourds frantically in order to get rid of the quant.i.ty of water that had poured over the gunwale. This task having been completed von Gobendorff noticed with a certain amount of apprehension that the freeboards betwixt the edge of the gaping hole and the water was less than four inches.

In the excitement of the encounter the Hun had overlooked the fact that already the canoe was within the influence of the rapids. The Birwas had spoken truly--there were cataracts; what was more there was now no means of avoiding them.

The banks on either hand were still steep and precipitous, while, undermanned, the heavy canoe could not be propelled against the stream, the speed of which exceeded five miles per hour and was steadily increasing as the rapids drew nearer and nearer.

The thunder of the foaming water could now be heard distinctly, as the canoe, held in the inexorable grip of the swirling torrent, swayed towards the danger. The two natives realised their peril. Their black faces were suffused with an ashy grey hue; their eyes were wide open with fear.

"Paddle backwards!" ordered von Gobendorff, knowing that to attempt to turn the canoe would mean both loss of time and increased chances of being immediately swamped.

With every muscle strained to its utmost capacity the Birwas strove desperately to back up-stream. Anxiously von Gobendorff kept his eyes fixed upon a mark in the bank. For a few minutes he watched--then he muttered curses under his breath. The canoe was slowly yet surely losing ground. He was fully aware that, apart from its damaged condition, the c.u.mbersome craft stood no possible chance of escape in the maelstrom-like eddies of the rapids, unless by sheer good fortune combined with the skill of the two natives the canoe could be made to avoid the jagged rocks between which the waters of the Kiwa rushed.

Suddenly the German caught sight of a huge teak-tree that, having been uprooted, was trailing over the banks. It was a faint chance, but von Gobendorff decided to risk it.

Raising his hand he pointed towards the tree-trunk. Already the roar of the water made it impossible for the Birwas to hear him speak. The men nodded and again began to ply their paddles vigorously, keeping close to the border between the main stream and a back-eddy by this part of the right bank.

With a quick turn of his broad blade the bowman urged the canoe's bows diagonally against the ma.s.s of timber. Caught by the full force of the current the dug-out swung round, crashed against the tree and, listing, was immediately swamped by the inrush of water.

Von Gobendorff leapt to safety. With cat-like agility he swarmed up the inclined bank. Here he stood and waited, watching the efforts of the two natives to save themselves.

The bowman had succeeded in getting astride the ma.s.sive log and was endeavouring to extricate his companion from the peril that threatened him, for the other had been thrown out of the canoe and was pinned between the tree and the side of the water-logged craft.

In spite of the Birwa's most strenuous efforts the trapped man was unable to extricate himself from the vice-like grip, for edges of the jagged hole in the canoe's side were pressing hard against his thigh, while the canoe itself, forced against the tree-trunk by the swiftly-running current, could not be moved in spite of the combined efforts of the two blacks.

A third man would have made all the difference. The trapped Birwa raised his eyes appealingly to the white man, but von Gobendorff stirred not so much as a little finger.

The Hun, having no further use for the natives, was merely awaiting the catastrophe that would effectually cover his tracks. Without the need of further aid from the Birwas he was now within measurable distance of the Karewenda Hills. Another six hours ought to find him in at least the temporary shelter of the German fortified post of Twashi.

With a sardonic expression on his face von Gobendorff waited and watched. For a full five minutes the grim struggle was maintained.

The trapped Birwa's strength was fast failing. Already greatly exhausted by his strenuous work with the paddle he was rapidly collapsing under the strain.

Suddenly he relaxed his grip. The water-logged canoe dipped, and was swept under the tree, taking with it the doomed native, whose last despairing cry was drowned in the roar of the rushing river. For a few moments the surviving Birwa remained kneeling on the inclined ma.s.s of timber, trembling in every limb, then, slowly and with every sign of temerity he began to make his way up the trunk to dry land.

Raising his pistol the Hun fired straight at the man's head. The Birwa's arms collapsed, he fell at full length upon the rounded ma.s.s of timber, and, slipping sideways, toppled inertly into the foaming torrent.

"Hamba gachle!" exclaimed von Gobendorff, using a Zulu expression that he had picked up in his many and diverse wanderings through South and Central Africa. "Dead men tell no tales, and you were in my way."

Then, recharging the magazine of his automatic pistol, the German turned, and, setting his face towards the north-west, strode rapidly towards the Karewenda Hills.

CHAPTER XIV.

ON THE TRACK

"Mr. Wilmshurst, I shall require you to proceed on special service,"

said Colonel Quarrier.

"Very good, sir," replied Dudley promptly, and awaited the C.O.'s instructions.

It was the evening of the fall of M'ganga. The prisoners had been collected and were about to be sent under escort to Kilwa. Fully under the impression that he was to be detailed for this monotonous but necessary duty Wilmshurst had reported himself to his colonel, but to his intense satisfaction he soon found that such was not the C.O.'s intention.

"Concerning this MacGregor-Gobendorff fellow," continued Colonel Quarrier. "It seems as if he has slipped through our fingers. We have been robbed of much of the satisfaction of capturing the position on that account. The Rhodesian Light Horse patrols are all back and report no luck as far as the capture of von Gobendorff is concerned, and the same applies to the Indian troops. From some of the prisoners we learnt that the fellow slipped away during the preliminary bombardment, and that he was not mounted. I have arranged with Colonel Mopesson, of the Light Horse, for a mounted patrol to be sent in pursuit, and since it is desirable for some one to identify the Hun--it sounds like counting our chickens before they are hatched, by the bye--I propose that you accompany the Rhodesians."

"Yes, sir," replied the subaltern.

"Very good. You have half an hour to make preparations," resumed the C.O. "Take a batman with you--a man who can ride well. You will rejoin your battalion at Kossa in three days' time, circ.u.mstances permitting."

Wilmshurst saluted and withdrew to make his brief preparations. Having given Tari Barl instructions to pack his kit the subaltern sent for Sergeant Bela Moshi.

"Find me a man who can ride well," he said.

A broad grin overspread the Haussa non-com.'s face.