CHAPTER XIVWITHIN A YARD OF THEM LAY POOR FISHER'S HEADAdmittedly the best warrant officer on board theBreezywas the chief boatswain, Fisher. He had been on the coast years and years ago, and knew the Arabs well, and all their tricks and manners too. He hated them with a fiery kind of hatred that nothing could have quenched.Nothing ever did, he once told McTavish, except blood, and that blood had to be Arab blood."If you had seen what I have seen in the old days," he added, "but now I'm wearin' on, sir, and soon will get my pension, or my last shot.""You've been wounded before, then?""Good lord, yes! You see this slash across my brow, doctor?""A blind man could see that, Fisher."He drew up his right trouser leg and disclosed an ugly hole below the knee."A bullet, sir. No, it didn't splinter. It went clean through. I have another in the right wrist. Another skirmish, sir. And I had a spear-wound right through me. I stuck to my man that day though, and pretty nigh cut him to the chin. Oh yes, I've knocked about a piece. Most of the swell Arabs know me and would pot me anywhere if sure of getting away with whole skins or an unstretched neck."In the coming affray this man had command of a boat.Well, theBreezystole away in the evening, and those that watched her from cocoa-nut trees saw her heading south and went to bed contented. But after darkness, theBreezyput all lights out and passed Zanzibar once again.There was another cruiser on this coast not far off, and to her Captain Breezy sent a wireless message to follow on after and assist.Instead of landing his forces south of the Lamoo river at Durva, and proceeding thence to the interior to attack the brother of Abdularram with his wild hordes of Arabs and Somalis, the Commander of theBreezyought to have awaited the arrival of the other cruiser, which had been hourly expected at Zanzibar, and gone north in her company.McTavish had even proposed this to him, but he only laughed."No, Doctor, no," he said. "I won't wait. Do or die is my motto. You don't catch me sharing prize-money or honour and glory and hopes of promotion with any one. Not if I can help it."They landed at night, and a dark and starless night it was, although towards morning the moon would sail silently up from the sea. But they did not wish for her light to guide them up the tree-shaded creek, for the presence of the moon might but serve to reveal their position to the eyes of a watchful foe.They were all armed to the teeth; even Bungle had been entrusted with a cutlass and a revolver. They rowed silently and with muffled oars towards the shore, and no one spoke a word above his breath.Their whole force consisted of but sixty blue-jackets and ten marines. Captain Breezy, their commander, being himself in charge, with Guilford and Fisher under him.Bungle was their guide, and right faithfully and well he did his duty. It certainly was no fault of his that the expedition, which from the very beginning was one of great peril and danger, came to so disastrous an end. Nor was it from any lack of courage and daring on the part of the brave sailors and marines and those who led them.The boats were hidden under the trees, five men being left in charge of them. But these five men were probably the best in the ship, and they left them with their Maxim gun, which they found it would be inconvenient to take with them inland.Then began the long silent march through the woods towards the barracoon, which was full fifteen miles from the shore.It was a forced march, and one that only men in the very best form could have accomplished in the comparatively short space of five hours.When within about three miles of the barracoon a halt was called, or rather whispered, and sentries being set, the men lay down to rest, after partaking of food.They had dressed Bungle, while on board theBreezy, in a tailor-made coat and trousers, which latter he afterwards abandoned, and now, when of his own accord he proposed to go forward and reconnoitre, he divested himself even of his coat.The moon had by this time risen, so that the men had to lie close among the long rank grass and stunted bushes, for they were now in a kind of open country. But more than once that night, before the sun rose up over the woods, Kep thought he could perceive dark figures skulking in the bush or stealing through the grass. Was their presence in the forest already discovered? This, was a question it was impossible as yet to answer. Alas! it was answered all too soon for their comfort.What a long, long time Bungle seemed to be absent. One hour, two hours glided by, and still there was no sign of his return. Meanwhile, and just as day-dawn was beginning to reveal itself in the east, like the reflection of some far-off city, Jones, a sturdy marine, crept up towards the Captain and whispered--"Bungle is amissing, sir!"Meanwhile the sun had risen, and with it a babel of sounds from the woods, which was very far indeed from being musical, for they were not far from the river, and birds of all kinds abounded, and inquisitive chattering apes as well.The men now made a hurried meal, and prepared to advance."Bowser," Captain Breezy said to Kep, "do you know what I begin to think?""Perfectly well," Kep replied. "You think my boy Bungle has led us astray, and probably into an ambuscade. But, sir, I will stake my life on his honesty and faithfulness."Hardly had he finished speaking when a shout was heard from the bush ahead, and every man immediately fell into order prepared for an attack. But next minute Bungle himself, wounded, and limping along, entered the little camp."No timee talk, no time," he cried excitedly, half rising from the ground on which he had thrown himself, "in two tree minute, plaps, de wild Arab man come fightee. He two tree tousand strong!"Here was news with a vengeance!Although the boy had lost much blood, the wound was not serious.Kep stayed behind to attend to him, and his companions went on.Just before they started, Fisher came running up. He pulled out his flask."Here, Bungle," he cried, "have a drop of my rum."Whether it was the rum or not I cannot say, but in twenty minutes' time Bungle was able to bring up the rear guard with Kep. That is, Bungle and Kep formed the rear guard; their friends were far ahead.They had not proceeded a mile when they heard firing in front of them. The gallant fellows were at it, hammer and tongs, and the boys redoubled their speed.But Bungle stopped short."No good go dat way, sah! Def lie in dat dilection, foh true."Thinking it was wise to be guided by the boy, Kep followed him, and they made a widedétour. If he had been obstinate the probability is that both would have been killed. They reached the barracoon at last, just in time to enter with the bluejackets.And these were victorious; but, alas! victory had cost them dear.For more than three hours the men had fought with clouds of Arabs and spear-armed Somali Indians. They had at last cut their way right through them; and, scaling palisade after palisade, captured the barracoon, driving the defenders into the woods at the point of the bayonet.All throughout that long, hot day, McTavish laboured hard among his wounded men, of whom no less than twenty had been brought in, and at least fifteen lay dead in the forest. Among these last was poor Fisher. Nor had it been possible to recover his body.The enemy had drawn off, although we knew it would be but for a time.The doctor had so much to do that it was within an hour of sunset before he could find time to look about him. But at last he finished making the poor men as comfortable as circumstances would permit, and then went in search of the Captain.He was busy enough, so were the men under the charge of Guilford, the gunner, and the officer of marines.But the palisades, both the inner and the outer, had been already repaired, and the whole place put into position to stand a siege of days--so they hoped, at least.Guilford came up to him, smiling. "Why, Doctor," he said, "how pale you look!""Tired," McTavish answered brightly."Have a drop of my rum."Next minute the flask was popped into his hand."We've got a thrashing, haven't we?""Rayther," he replied. "Out-numbered, you see. Only five-and-thirty men left in whole skins. And poor Fisher, he--he----"He turned away to hide a tear."Come," he said, fronting McTavish again. "Let us take a turn round the camp before it gets dark. Can you spare me, sir?""Certainly," said the commander.Then away they went.They had captured 720 slaves in all. And so quickly had the bluejackets, after cutting their way through the Arab horde, scaled the palisades, and driven the barracoon-keepers out, that these had had no time to scatter the rice and waste the water, which otherwise they certainly would have done. The water was bad enough in all conscience, but it was better than none."Come in here," said Guilford.McTavish entered a compound with him, and there to his astonishment found a grass tent, furnished not only with luxury, but with some degree of elegance also. And there, too, was a supply of excellent water, with plenty of fruit and even wine, so that his wounded men would be in clover.This tent doubtless belonged to the general himself.Once more the sun went down, and almost immediately afterwards it was night.Soon the Captain himself entered the tent, and all hands had dinner."Doctor," said the Captain, "I have sent the boy Bungle back to report to the ship the fix we are in. If the Arabs attack us to-night, or even to-morrow, nothing I fear will save us. But if a few more bluejackets can reach us, and the Maxim gun, we can defy these Arab fiends, and give a good account of them."After dinner, Guilford and the surgeon went towards the spot where, under a canopy of green boughs, the latter had placed his wounded men.They found Kep wandering about busy enough in his own way, soothing and sympathising with the patients, administering a drop of water or wine to one, and an orange or lime to another; but shedding comfort in every place where the light from the hurricane lamp he carried fell.However small this boy's capabilities as a surgeon or physician might be, he made a very excellent nurse.Guilford kindly took the first watch with the wounded men, so that the doctor might have a few hours' sleep, and Kep as well.McTavish awoke quite refreshed about four o'clock, and took watch himself."I have a mind to sit with you a short time," said Guilford, and down they both sat, after the doctor had taken a turn or two among the men. Meanwhile the moon had risen and was shedding her silvery light all over camp and barracoon, beautifying and spiritualising everything.They had hidden the hurricane lamp behind a bush, and were talking low to each other, as they sat beneath a banana tree.Suddenly McTavish clutched Guilford by the shoulder."Hush!" he whispered. "Did you not hear a sound as of advancing footsteps?"They had both drawn their revolvers and sat waiting, fearfully, hardly daring to draw breath.A moment after something fell with a dull thud almost at their feet."What was that?" said Guilford."A cocoa-nut, I think."McTavish lit a match and held it above his head.Judge of the feeling of horror that took possession of them now.There, within a yard of them, lay poor Fisher's head.CHAPTER XVTHE ATTACK UPON THE BARRACOONMore accustomed to seeing fearsome sights than his friend Guilford, the doctor called to him to make all speed and alarm the sentries, to cut off if possible the retreating enemy. Then he took up the head. Superstitious themselves to a degree, it is no uncommon thing for an Arab foe to endeavour to strike a strange terror into the hearts of their enemies by such ghoulish tricks as this. But it had certainly failed in its object for once.McTavish stroked the cold, hard brow and pressed down the lids on the half-open eyes; and then laid it aside, covering it with a cloth and bushes, so that it might receive Christian burial when they should succeed in finding the body.When daylight returned there were no signs of an attempt to renew the fight. Indeed, from the outlook station, which was the top of a tall cocoa-nut palm, there was nothing to be seen of the enemy.Not a sound came from bush or forest except that made by birds or beasts, nor was there any smoke curling up into the now clear air.Being accustomed from his boyhood to climbing trees, Kep got up into the feathery crown of the palm. The exercise revived him, the fresh air, breathed at this elevated situation, calmed the nerves and brain. The scene all around as far as eye could reach was very impressive, very beautiful; but nearer at hand, near to the palisades and here and there in the bush close beneath, was many a dark spot, that it needed not lorgnettes to tell were the bodies of the slain. He would not let his eyes rest on these. They saddened him, and one should never seek for the sorrow it is possible to avoid.But was the forest and bush as deserted as it seemed? Well, all knew it was not. Every bush concealed a foe. They were thirsting for blood, and their object in lying hidden was but to entice the British out. These felt thankful, however, in their very souls, that the attack which they knew would be made was delayed.Meanwhile, there was plenty to do in the camp. The doctor had his wounded to attend to, and those poor slaves were in charge of all.It was difficult at first to make them understand that they were really free. But they had knocked those galling chains off, and they fed them and talked to them kindly. True, they might not understand the words, but the actions and the tone of the men's voices were unmistakable.There were several dead among those poor, unhappy wretches, and these their companions buried. Luckily they found Arab spades and other tools in the barracoon, and hours were spent by the male liberated slaves in attending to the sanitary condition of the whole camp. And much, indeed, it had needed such attention.The day wore slowly by. Before eventide, despite every attention, despite even the nursing of Kep, no less than five of the wounded men had crossed the bourne whence travellers ne'er return. But the others bade fair to do well.Meanwhile, they counted the hours that must elapse before poor wounded Bungle could possibly return with relief. At the very shortest another night must pass before he could come--if come he ever would.Towards sunset it was determined to make a sally, and to bring in the dead for burial. The graves were already dug. They took with them a very large carrying party, consisting of the sturdiest of the freed slaves, under command of a gunner, an old coast hand who could talk a little of nearly all the native languages.Would the Arabs attack? that was the question. Luckily they did not; and not only was poor Fisher's body found, but the bodies of every one of the brave fellows.It was not difficult to understand why the Arabs had refrained from attacking. Their object was to lead to the belief that they had gone. Could they but succeed in enticing theBreezy'speople from the barracoon, then, hampered as they would be with the wounded and the slaves, their victory would be an easy one indeed. It would be nothing less than a massacre.And sad was the burial scene. The dead were laid out in rows, and before a prayer was said the men were allowed to walk round, to speak to, to apostrophise and bid farewell to their dead chums and messmates. Many of the severely wounded were assisted to the spot where the bodies lay, just that they might say "Good-bye" to "poor Jack" or "poor Bill," or whatever might be the name of a dead comrade.Captain Breezy himself read the burial service from memory. He got no further than "We give their dead bodies to the dust," before stopping suddenly, with choking voice.Nor was there a dry eye amongst the crew.But the last sod is laid over the dead. No one will ever disturb them in this lonesome spot, so the burial party come sadly and silently away, and leave them to sleep.Then fell night and darkness over the forest land.Would the Arabs now attack?Extra ammunition was given out, and those of the brave fellows not on watch or doing sentry-go slept beside their loaded rifles, their bayonets fixed and loaded revolvers in their belts.But all the men that could be shared to watch were hardly sufficient to guard against attack, so the freed men were requisitioned.And indeed all of these that were strong enough to fight were armed with weapons of some kind; empty rifles to use as clubs, tools of various kinds, and the spare cutlasses that had belonged to those now dead or to the wounded.Slowly and wearily the night wore away, and I do not think that anyone really slept.Guilford and McTavish were watching among the wounded, and towards morning the latter had fallen into an uneasy kind of doze, when he was suddenly awakened by Kep himself."A negro wants to speak to you, sir."Beside the boy Kep, and full in the light of the newly risen moon, stood one of the freed slaves, wildly but silently gesticulating and pointing to a far-off corner of the barracoon.Something must have happened; in a few minutes the camp was astir, and the men had fallen in, prepared for anything.The quick ear of the savage had detected the advance of armed men. But whether friends or foes as yet they could not tell. Birds, however, were flying over the camp in dozens, and it was this fact that had told the clever savage that people were approaching.The British sentries would have taken but little, if any, heed of a sign like this, and the probability therefore would have been that an attack in force would have been made before the men were half awake.They now lay concealed in the bush, rifles pointed towards the still coming flights of birds.Nearly a whole hour passed. The moon was high and the night very clear. Now and then a wild and uncanny scream was heard far away in the forest depths; but whether it proceeded from man or beast no one could tell.A whole hour! Yes, and what an interminable time it seemed to be.But list! Beyond the palisade there are sounds now. Ay, and shouts too; and next moment, between them and the moonlight, they could see the whole top of the barricade covered with yelling Arabs.But the men had their orders, and not a shot was fired on these.They were allowed to leap inside.Mercy on us, what an end was theirs! The freed men caught them almost before they had alighted, and the wild screams and demon shouts told of the fearful tragedy that was being enacted.But another row of devil Arabs lines the palisades, and now rifles speak out. Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop. It is one continuous rattle, and as fast as the Arabs scale the height, just as fast do they fall; while those who succeed in leaping down are quickly seized upon and butchered by the very men to whom they had dealt out such fearful treatment in their far-off peaceful land.Worsted for a time, the Arabs withdrew, after making several attempts to carry the barracoon by storm.But that they would return ere long right well those Breezies knew.Although the Arabs had fired volley after volley, yet, strange to say, they had not in this attack a single man wounded, so well did they keep to the bush and so steady was their fire.All the Arabs that fell into the hands of the blacks were slain; indeed, they were almost rent limb from limb, and it was with the greatest difficulty CaptainBreezysucceeded at last in preventing the freed men from expending their fury on the mutilated corpses, which they even bit and tore with their teeth, till, dancing there in the moonlight, they looked more like devils incarnate than human beings.There was but little chance that the enemy would attack again at the same place, so a little black slave was sent up the tree, instructed to signal whenever the foe was approaching, and point out his position.They found they had still about seventy rounds of ammunition left per man, but, as this would not stand a long siege, orders were given not to throw way a single shot.The next attack was made about half an hour before sunrise, and a sudden determined and terrible one it was.The first the Breezies knew of its commencement was from a fusillade delivered from the bush. Although such splendid swordsmen, the Arabs are not good marksmen, and their rifles are usually bad. In this case it appeared they had determined to make sure. Not fewer than twenty rifles must have been aimed at the cocoa-nut palm, hidden in which was our little black sentry.Next moment his body fell at their feet with a dull and awful splashing thud, the sound of which could never be forgotten.The Arabs attacked about five minutes after, and from a side of the barracoon--so wily were they--that the white men fancied they would never attempt to scale.Before they had fired two volleys they were over the palisade, not in scores but in hundreds apparently. One more rifle volley was filed, then the Breezies advanced at the double to meet the foe.I cannot describe that terriblemêlée. The charge of those sword-armed Arabs seemed like "the shock of Hell" that Scott speaks of in Marmion.Sword in hand, McTavish was in it. He was stunned very early in the engagement by a blow from something, he knew not what, and fell between two dead men, namely, an Arab whom Kep's sword had gone clean through, and a freed slave that the Arab had cloven to the chin.When the surgeon recovered consciousness and looked up, the tide of battle had rolled away from him. Strangely enough, as he gazed for a few moments, still confused and bewildered, at the fearful fight that was raging, a passage from Scott kept running in his mind and memory--They close in clouds of smoke and dust,With sword-sway and with lance's thrust,And such a yell was there,Of sudden and portentous birth,As if men fought upon this earth,And fiends in upper air.While he was staggering to his feet, a sound fell upon his ears that told him they were saved. It was the rolling, rattling sound of a maxim gun.The Arabs heard it too. Next minute the great gate of the barracoon was burst open, and not twenty bluejackets, but fully a hundred came pouring in. That brave British cheer, as the bluejackets came rushing onwards, cutlass in hand, was the signal for the enemy's flight.Seeing the gate open, they made a slightdétour, which was but a feint; then rushed madly for the opening.Outside was the maxim gun!Does not that one little sentence tell a tale. That maxim gun! How awful its voice. How deathlike its rattle!Well, the battle was won.Did they extend mercy to the retreating Arabs? Notverymuch, I fear. In fact, the freed slaves took up the chase, and in the bush completed the deadly work the maxim gun had begun.Right faithfully and well had poor Bungle done his duty. But, poor fellow, it was noticed at once he was not among the new comers, who consisted chiefly of men from the other cruiser under the command of the first lieutenant, a larger vessel than theBreezy.Kep hastened to inquire about his little friend."He arrived at the place where you left your gun and boats," was the reply, "almost dead. He had only time to tell your fellows that assistance was sorely needed and that they must take the gun and follow your trail, when he fainted. Your men came off to our ship, and here we are.""But the boy is not dead?" Kep asked anxiously."I fear that by this time he is.""Why, Guilford, who is this?" said McTavish next minute, for as they walked slowly towards the tent they came across the corpse of a richly-dressed Arab, who, the doctor felt certain at first, was Abdularram himself.Guilford only laughed. "That's the general." he said. "And I guess he's only waiting patiently to be buried.""Who killed him? Guilford,youdid!"Guilford only laughed again, but said nothing.* * * * *It took them two whole days to reach the coast with the wounded and slaves, and very anxious Kep was to know the fate of Bungle.They arrived at the creek safely at last, and here a temporary camp was formed and fortified, in which to house these freed slaves until an opportunity came to ship them off to Zanzibar.CHAPTER XVIPOOR BUNGLE! JUST LET HIM SLEEPSail in sight!It was a shout from a man on the outlook on the fore-topmast cross-trees."Where away?" sang Guilford, who was on duty."On the starboard bow, sir. Well in towards the land. Just coming round the wooded point yonder.""Why, sir," he hailed a few minutes afterwards, "it ain't one, but three, four o' them there is."Guilford went scrambling up into the maintop with his glasses slung over his shoulder. He was too tall to make a very graceful sailor, but he got there all the same.It was in the forenoon watch, just two days after they had left the slave camp in the creek. The other cruiser had gone on before with a large cargo of the freed slaves, and would be in Zanzibar ere now.At the very first hail from aloft everyone had hurried on deck, to get if possible a peep at the enemy, for no one doubted for a moment that these great dhows, now slowly rounding the point, were the fighting fleet of the daring Arab Viking, Abdularram.They were prettily manoeuvred, and at first it was hoped that they would bear down upon theBreezyand attack.But Abdularram--who had not been killed after all--was too good an admiral to do anything of the kind. His tactics were those of naval guerilla warfare, and now he filled sail and stood out to sea, bearing up for the south and east. The reason was simply because the wind blew in this direction, and before a breeze a well-rigged dhow is as fleet as a drifting cloud."Prepare for action!"Right merrily now the bugle rang out over the clear, blue rippling water. The very sea-birds seemed to rejoice at the sound, and came sweeping nearer and nearer, apparently trying to repeat the call.In a few minutes' time all was ready as far as arms were concerned.Full speed was now the order on board theBreezy, and steam was got up, for the fires had only been banked.Meanwhile, it is needless to say that the doctor was not idle, nor his able assistant, Kep, either. The wounded men, with the exception of a few of the worst cases that had been sent on in the other ship, had been placed under a canvas screen, forward near the bows on the upper deck, and these had to be carefully moved below.Your British tar makes a most kindly and gentle nurse, and it was a pleasure to note how tenderly the seamen McTavish had called to his assistance bore their shipmates down below, and laid them on the deck.Meanwhile the chase went on. The dhows had a long start; but by afternoon the wind had gone down somewhat, and theBreezywas soon coming up hand over hand. At three o'clock she succeeded in disabling two with shot and shell. A third had escaped. Seeing boats lower to board the crippled dhows, No. 4 bore down upon them and prepared to render assistance, but a shell from theBreezywent screaming through her rigging; then she filled and fled, leaving her comrades to their fate. They made a gallant resistance; but their defenders were finally beaten off their own blood-slippery decks and battened down below. Prize crews were put on board with orders to bear up for Zanzibar; and then theBreezywent on after the largest dhow, the flagship of Abdularram himself.[image]"A shell from theBreezywent screaming through her rigging."Abdularram in his great dhow escaped entirely when the darkness fell like a pall over sea and land, for to-night there was never a star, the glass was going down, and there was every likelihood of a storm. And it soon began to blow.This made it hard for every one."Bad luck," said Guilford, "not to catch that scoundrel.""Bad luck for the wounded also," said McTavish; and so it turned out, for several of these died before morning, the pitching and rolling of theBreezybeing very great."How is your boy Bungle?" asked one of the middies as Kep, looking somewhat crest-fallen, entered the gun-room."He is very low indeed," replied Kep, "and the doctor thinks he cannot live.""Going to slip his moorings, is he? Poor little devil! Is he sensible?""Oh, yes, and bears his sufferings like a small hero, as indeed he is.""Ah, well!" said the middy, "that's the tack we'll all be on--some day. Mellor, give that decanter of wine you seem to stick to, a fair wind this way.""I'm holding on to it," said Mellor, "because it has a ball-bottom and won't stand on the table.""Of course it won't. It was made like that on purpose, you untamed idiot, so that dolts like you should pass it round."* * * * *TheBreezyarrived at Zanzibar all right in two days' time, in spite of the storm.War-worn and weary, that same night the good surgeon had sunk to sleep among his wounded men on deck, and some kind-hearted sailor had drawn a tarpaulin over him. It was broad daylight when he awoke him."I let you sleep, sir. I thought you needed it. Another man dead, sir, and poor boy Bungle going fast, I fear. Insensible now.""Just let him sleep," said McTavish.But when Kep went back to the brave little lad's hammock Bungle opened his eyes, and smiled faintly."Is there anything you would like, Bungle?""In dis world, no," was the faint reply. "But you speakee my ole mudder. Tell she, dat Bungle nevah fo'got."Then his left hand was half raised to his brow as if to touch his forelock. Next moment it fell heavily on the coverlet.Bungle was gone.Only a little black boy? True, but may we all do our duty as bravely and well in the world as Bungle did his.The wounded were all sent to hospital. They would be conveyed to the Cape by the very next steamer.But something was in the wind surely, for the fleet on this station now received orders by cable to return to Symon's Bay with all speed after taking in sufficient coal.Kep had time to go on shore. He went in mufti, not his Arab dress. In mufti and after dark. He could do nothing to find out the whereabouts of little boy Bungle's "ole mudder," and so she would never know what had been the fate of her little son.Perhaps it was better so. For she would do now as most mothers do--just live on in hope of one day seeing him back again.Taking great care not to be seen, Kep now went to pay a visit to his friend the Arab and to wee Zeena.I need not waste a sentence in telling of the reception he had nor of the happy evening he spent, or the farewells said. Zeena was Kep's little romance, and it would be very long indeed before he could forget the child.* * * * *Why had the ships been ordered down to the Cape? It is a question I cannot really answer. It was now the year 1908, and notwithstanding the great advances in every kind of science, there will still be a few blind men at the Admiralty and in the Government generally. The consequence was that there was far too much wire-pulling. Much was lost by our fleets on the various stations having to wait for orders from home.The scare on this particular occasion was brought about by what was called an unpremeditated attack by a supposed German cruiser on some British merchant steamers.In fact some of the latter had been looted and sunk, and their crews and passengers landed almost starving on the nearest land. But as the Germans disclaimed all knowledge of the cruiser, which they advanced in their arguments must be a sort of pirate orAlabama, then the British bull-dog began to growl, and the peace-at-any-price tried to appease him, and said he must not fly at poor Germany, for that heavenly land and all in it were most friendly to the bull-dog. Negotiation, negotiation, that, they said, would settle all disputes.Well, it eventually did in this case at all events. But there were wheels within wheels, political mining and counter-mining, and intrigues deep and shallow.Be all this as it may, Zanzibar was for the present left unprotected save by its own fleet. Now this fleet was a very good one, as I have before hinted, and if manned by British seamen it could really have done some splendid execution when it came to be wanted. At present it lay in the open roadstead, and was even anchored without much system.The new Sultan was very easy-minded. The ships made a fine show. That was delightful, and especially did he love to look upon them on gala days. In fact, he made gala days and kept birthdays and high days, just for the pleasure of seeing his war-ships dressed all over with bunting. And such a blaze of colour had really a fine back-ground by day in the blue bright Indian Ocean.Then when darkness came the Sultan spent a deal of his pocket money precisely as boys do in the first week in November. He went in heavily for fireworks, and the ships were all lit up with blue or crimson fire. The Sultan of Lamoo was not a fool, and he had some heavy men (of other nations be it whispered) who backed him. He had, moreover, a splendid admiral in Abdularram. Perhaps he knew more about dhow-fleets than gun-boats or cruisers, but he had men on board the spit-fire shiplets of Lamoo that knew far more about the newest class of torpedoes than they did about the Koran.There is a tradition (as in a former book of mine I mentioned) that one time--date forgotten--when Zanzibar was not so valuable a possession, but a city nevertheless of some 300,000 inhabitants, an enormous fleet of armed dhows suddenly appeared like a cloud of locusts on the distant horizon. And like the locust-cloud, it bore right down upon the city, and an army of strange men was thrown upon the beach and at once attacked the Sultan's forces. These had soon been made an end of, and the palace was robbed.The whole town was looted--women carried off, and all who resisted slain.But, so says the tradition, the army at last re-embarked, carrying with them their dead and wounded, then this Armada put to sea again. They disappeared beyond the horizon and were never seen nor heard tell of in this world again.They were foreign men, they were foreign dhows, foreign devils all, but who they were or whence they came may never be known.However, history was now going in some measure to repeat itself, without so much of the mysterious.Down the beautiful river, therefore, which after gliding through a quiet landscape of green and charming forest, rolls over a sandy bar and empties itself into the Indian Ocean, there dropped one day the midget fleet of Lamoo, and one by one braved the danger of the only opening in the reef, and got clear and safely out.They were small vessels, very, but every one of them carried death on her decks, and death between decks, in the shape of guns and torpedoes.They numbered only ten and were all of the same class.If they were lacking in anything it was speed, and although they had good gunnery men on board their engineers had none too much skill. In addition to sailors proper their decks were crowded with dare-devil fighting Arabs, many of the chiefs of whom had old scores to settle with the inhabitants of Zanzibar.They had orders from the Sultan of Lamoo to bring back with them the Sultan of Zanzibar--alive. He must be alive, Lamoo said, for in the fierce heat of the tropics, "if dead he would not keep a day."The Sultan of Lamoo found great pleasure in preparing quarters for his coming sovereign guest. The palace, which looks a very noble one and quite imposing from the broad river front, was specially refurnished, and all that the art of the twentieth century could suggest was lavished thereon. He had even ordered new dresses for himself all ablaze with the most precious stones, and the ladies of his harem were also, much to their delight, refitted as it were. For this wicked Sultan was to lead his august prisoner all through the palace--securely manacled of course--in order to dazzle his eyes with its gorgeousness.He had bought the best new gramophones and pianolas for this especial purpose, with pictures galore, and carpets as soft as feather beds. Indeed he had not regarded expense in any way, and determined even to permit his majesty to have a peep inside his beautiful harem, the ladies of which he had specially trained to close on his entry in every form of gracefulness imaginable, and on these as they posed colour flash lights were to be turned.This was all very delightful, especially for Lamoo himself, but his guest's bedroom had also to be refitted and replenished, for here he was to remain for a week, or as much longer as he chose to live without food, unless he chose to devour the awful rats and reptiles with which this slimy dungeon was purposely stored.When the fleet was once fairly at sea, the three happiest men anywhere on the coast of Africa were Admiral Abdularram, who gloated on the thoughts of the coming bombardment, the Sultan of Zanzibar because he was in blissful ignorance of what was to happen, and Lamoo himself, as he mused all day and dreamt all night about the treat he had in store for his kingly guest.
CHAPTER XIV
WITHIN A YARD OF THEM LAY POOR FISHER'S HEAD
Admittedly the best warrant officer on board theBreezywas the chief boatswain, Fisher. He had been on the coast years and years ago, and knew the Arabs well, and all their tricks and manners too. He hated them with a fiery kind of hatred that nothing could have quenched.
Nothing ever did, he once told McTavish, except blood, and that blood had to be Arab blood.
"If you had seen what I have seen in the old days," he added, "but now I'm wearin' on, sir, and soon will get my pension, or my last shot."
"You've been wounded before, then?"
"Good lord, yes! You see this slash across my brow, doctor?"
"A blind man could see that, Fisher."
He drew up his right trouser leg and disclosed an ugly hole below the knee.
"A bullet, sir. No, it didn't splinter. It went clean through. I have another in the right wrist. Another skirmish, sir. And I had a spear-wound right through me. I stuck to my man that day though, and pretty nigh cut him to the chin. Oh yes, I've knocked about a piece. Most of the swell Arabs know me and would pot me anywhere if sure of getting away with whole skins or an unstretched neck."
In the coming affray this man had command of a boat.
Well, theBreezystole away in the evening, and those that watched her from cocoa-nut trees saw her heading south and went to bed contented. But after darkness, theBreezyput all lights out and passed Zanzibar once again.
There was another cruiser on this coast not far off, and to her Captain Breezy sent a wireless message to follow on after and assist.
Instead of landing his forces south of the Lamoo river at Durva, and proceeding thence to the interior to attack the brother of Abdularram with his wild hordes of Arabs and Somalis, the Commander of theBreezyought to have awaited the arrival of the other cruiser, which had been hourly expected at Zanzibar, and gone north in her company.
McTavish had even proposed this to him, but he only laughed.
"No, Doctor, no," he said. "I won't wait. Do or die is my motto. You don't catch me sharing prize-money or honour and glory and hopes of promotion with any one. Not if I can help it."
They landed at night, and a dark and starless night it was, although towards morning the moon would sail silently up from the sea. But they did not wish for her light to guide them up the tree-shaded creek, for the presence of the moon might but serve to reveal their position to the eyes of a watchful foe.
They were all armed to the teeth; even Bungle had been entrusted with a cutlass and a revolver. They rowed silently and with muffled oars towards the shore, and no one spoke a word above his breath.
Their whole force consisted of but sixty blue-jackets and ten marines. Captain Breezy, their commander, being himself in charge, with Guilford and Fisher under him.
Bungle was their guide, and right faithfully and well he did his duty. It certainly was no fault of his that the expedition, which from the very beginning was one of great peril and danger, came to so disastrous an end. Nor was it from any lack of courage and daring on the part of the brave sailors and marines and those who led them.
The boats were hidden under the trees, five men being left in charge of them. But these five men were probably the best in the ship, and they left them with their Maxim gun, which they found it would be inconvenient to take with them inland.
Then began the long silent march through the woods towards the barracoon, which was full fifteen miles from the shore.
It was a forced march, and one that only men in the very best form could have accomplished in the comparatively short space of five hours.
When within about three miles of the barracoon a halt was called, or rather whispered, and sentries being set, the men lay down to rest, after partaking of food.
They had dressed Bungle, while on board theBreezy, in a tailor-made coat and trousers, which latter he afterwards abandoned, and now, when of his own accord he proposed to go forward and reconnoitre, he divested himself even of his coat.
The moon had by this time risen, so that the men had to lie close among the long rank grass and stunted bushes, for they were now in a kind of open country. But more than once that night, before the sun rose up over the woods, Kep thought he could perceive dark figures skulking in the bush or stealing through the grass. Was their presence in the forest already discovered? This, was a question it was impossible as yet to answer. Alas! it was answered all too soon for their comfort.
What a long, long time Bungle seemed to be absent. One hour, two hours glided by, and still there was no sign of his return. Meanwhile, and just as day-dawn was beginning to reveal itself in the east, like the reflection of some far-off city, Jones, a sturdy marine, crept up towards the Captain and whispered--"Bungle is amissing, sir!"
Meanwhile the sun had risen, and with it a babel of sounds from the woods, which was very far indeed from being musical, for they were not far from the river, and birds of all kinds abounded, and inquisitive chattering apes as well.
The men now made a hurried meal, and prepared to advance.
"Bowser," Captain Breezy said to Kep, "do you know what I begin to think?"
"Perfectly well," Kep replied. "You think my boy Bungle has led us astray, and probably into an ambuscade. But, sir, I will stake my life on his honesty and faithfulness."
Hardly had he finished speaking when a shout was heard from the bush ahead, and every man immediately fell into order prepared for an attack. But next minute Bungle himself, wounded, and limping along, entered the little camp.
"No timee talk, no time," he cried excitedly, half rising from the ground on which he had thrown himself, "in two tree minute, plaps, de wild Arab man come fightee. He two tree tousand strong!"
Here was news with a vengeance!
Although the boy had lost much blood, the wound was not serious.
Kep stayed behind to attend to him, and his companions went on.
Just before they started, Fisher came running up. He pulled out his flask.
"Here, Bungle," he cried, "have a drop of my rum."
Whether it was the rum or not I cannot say, but in twenty minutes' time Bungle was able to bring up the rear guard with Kep. That is, Bungle and Kep formed the rear guard; their friends were far ahead.
They had not proceeded a mile when they heard firing in front of them. The gallant fellows were at it, hammer and tongs, and the boys redoubled their speed.
But Bungle stopped short.
"No good go dat way, sah! Def lie in dat dilection, foh true."
Thinking it was wise to be guided by the boy, Kep followed him, and they made a widedétour. If he had been obstinate the probability is that both would have been killed. They reached the barracoon at last, just in time to enter with the bluejackets.
And these were victorious; but, alas! victory had cost them dear.
For more than three hours the men had fought with clouds of Arabs and spear-armed Somali Indians. They had at last cut their way right through them; and, scaling palisade after palisade, captured the barracoon, driving the defenders into the woods at the point of the bayonet.
All throughout that long, hot day, McTavish laboured hard among his wounded men, of whom no less than twenty had been brought in, and at least fifteen lay dead in the forest. Among these last was poor Fisher. Nor had it been possible to recover his body.
The enemy had drawn off, although we knew it would be but for a time.
The doctor had so much to do that it was within an hour of sunset before he could find time to look about him. But at last he finished making the poor men as comfortable as circumstances would permit, and then went in search of the Captain.
He was busy enough, so were the men under the charge of Guilford, the gunner, and the officer of marines.
But the palisades, both the inner and the outer, had been already repaired, and the whole place put into position to stand a siege of days--so they hoped, at least.
Guilford came up to him, smiling. "Why, Doctor," he said, "how pale you look!"
"Tired," McTavish answered brightly.
"Have a drop of my rum."
Next minute the flask was popped into his hand.
"We've got a thrashing, haven't we?"
"Rayther," he replied. "Out-numbered, you see. Only five-and-thirty men left in whole skins. And poor Fisher, he--he----"
He turned away to hide a tear.
"Come," he said, fronting McTavish again. "Let us take a turn round the camp before it gets dark. Can you spare me, sir?"
"Certainly," said the commander.
Then away they went.
They had captured 720 slaves in all. And so quickly had the bluejackets, after cutting their way through the Arab horde, scaled the palisades, and driven the barracoon-keepers out, that these had had no time to scatter the rice and waste the water, which otherwise they certainly would have done. The water was bad enough in all conscience, but it was better than none.
"Come in here," said Guilford.
McTavish entered a compound with him, and there to his astonishment found a grass tent, furnished not only with luxury, but with some degree of elegance also. And there, too, was a supply of excellent water, with plenty of fruit and even wine, so that his wounded men would be in clover.
This tent doubtless belonged to the general himself.
Once more the sun went down, and almost immediately afterwards it was night.
Soon the Captain himself entered the tent, and all hands had dinner.
"Doctor," said the Captain, "I have sent the boy Bungle back to report to the ship the fix we are in. If the Arabs attack us to-night, or even to-morrow, nothing I fear will save us. But if a few more bluejackets can reach us, and the Maxim gun, we can defy these Arab fiends, and give a good account of them."
After dinner, Guilford and the surgeon went towards the spot where, under a canopy of green boughs, the latter had placed his wounded men.
They found Kep wandering about busy enough in his own way, soothing and sympathising with the patients, administering a drop of water or wine to one, and an orange or lime to another; but shedding comfort in every place where the light from the hurricane lamp he carried fell.
However small this boy's capabilities as a surgeon or physician might be, he made a very excellent nurse.
Guilford kindly took the first watch with the wounded men, so that the doctor might have a few hours' sleep, and Kep as well.
McTavish awoke quite refreshed about four o'clock, and took watch himself.
"I have a mind to sit with you a short time," said Guilford, and down they both sat, after the doctor had taken a turn or two among the men. Meanwhile the moon had risen and was shedding her silvery light all over camp and barracoon, beautifying and spiritualising everything.
They had hidden the hurricane lamp behind a bush, and were talking low to each other, as they sat beneath a banana tree.
Suddenly McTavish clutched Guilford by the shoulder.
"Hush!" he whispered. "Did you not hear a sound as of advancing footsteps?"
They had both drawn their revolvers and sat waiting, fearfully, hardly daring to draw breath.
A moment after something fell with a dull thud almost at their feet.
"What was that?" said Guilford.
"A cocoa-nut, I think."
McTavish lit a match and held it above his head.
Judge of the feeling of horror that took possession of them now.
There, within a yard of them, lay poor Fisher's head.
CHAPTER XV
THE ATTACK UPON THE BARRACOON
More accustomed to seeing fearsome sights than his friend Guilford, the doctor called to him to make all speed and alarm the sentries, to cut off if possible the retreating enemy. Then he took up the head. Superstitious themselves to a degree, it is no uncommon thing for an Arab foe to endeavour to strike a strange terror into the hearts of their enemies by such ghoulish tricks as this. But it had certainly failed in its object for once.
McTavish stroked the cold, hard brow and pressed down the lids on the half-open eyes; and then laid it aside, covering it with a cloth and bushes, so that it might receive Christian burial when they should succeed in finding the body.
When daylight returned there were no signs of an attempt to renew the fight. Indeed, from the outlook station, which was the top of a tall cocoa-nut palm, there was nothing to be seen of the enemy.
Not a sound came from bush or forest except that made by birds or beasts, nor was there any smoke curling up into the now clear air.
Being accustomed from his boyhood to climbing trees, Kep got up into the feathery crown of the palm. The exercise revived him, the fresh air, breathed at this elevated situation, calmed the nerves and brain. The scene all around as far as eye could reach was very impressive, very beautiful; but nearer at hand, near to the palisades and here and there in the bush close beneath, was many a dark spot, that it needed not lorgnettes to tell were the bodies of the slain. He would not let his eyes rest on these. They saddened him, and one should never seek for the sorrow it is possible to avoid.
But was the forest and bush as deserted as it seemed? Well, all knew it was not. Every bush concealed a foe. They were thirsting for blood, and their object in lying hidden was but to entice the British out. These felt thankful, however, in their very souls, that the attack which they knew would be made was delayed.
Meanwhile, there was plenty to do in the camp. The doctor had his wounded to attend to, and those poor slaves were in charge of all.
It was difficult at first to make them understand that they were really free. But they had knocked those galling chains off, and they fed them and talked to them kindly. True, they might not understand the words, but the actions and the tone of the men's voices were unmistakable.
There were several dead among those poor, unhappy wretches, and these their companions buried. Luckily they found Arab spades and other tools in the barracoon, and hours were spent by the male liberated slaves in attending to the sanitary condition of the whole camp. And much, indeed, it had needed such attention.
The day wore slowly by. Before eventide, despite every attention, despite even the nursing of Kep, no less than five of the wounded men had crossed the bourne whence travellers ne'er return. But the others bade fair to do well.
Meanwhile, they counted the hours that must elapse before poor wounded Bungle could possibly return with relief. At the very shortest another night must pass before he could come--if come he ever would.
Towards sunset it was determined to make a sally, and to bring in the dead for burial. The graves were already dug. They took with them a very large carrying party, consisting of the sturdiest of the freed slaves, under command of a gunner, an old coast hand who could talk a little of nearly all the native languages.
Would the Arabs attack? that was the question. Luckily they did not; and not only was poor Fisher's body found, but the bodies of every one of the brave fellows.
It was not difficult to understand why the Arabs had refrained from attacking. Their object was to lead to the belief that they had gone. Could they but succeed in enticing theBreezy'speople from the barracoon, then, hampered as they would be with the wounded and the slaves, their victory would be an easy one indeed. It would be nothing less than a massacre.
And sad was the burial scene. The dead were laid out in rows, and before a prayer was said the men were allowed to walk round, to speak to, to apostrophise and bid farewell to their dead chums and messmates. Many of the severely wounded were assisted to the spot where the bodies lay, just that they might say "Good-bye" to "poor Jack" or "poor Bill," or whatever might be the name of a dead comrade.
Captain Breezy himself read the burial service from memory. He got no further than "We give their dead bodies to the dust," before stopping suddenly, with choking voice.
Nor was there a dry eye amongst the crew.
But the last sod is laid over the dead. No one will ever disturb them in this lonesome spot, so the burial party come sadly and silently away, and leave them to sleep.
Then fell night and darkness over the forest land.
Would the Arabs now attack?
Extra ammunition was given out, and those of the brave fellows not on watch or doing sentry-go slept beside their loaded rifles, their bayonets fixed and loaded revolvers in their belts.
But all the men that could be shared to watch were hardly sufficient to guard against attack, so the freed men were requisitioned.
And indeed all of these that were strong enough to fight were armed with weapons of some kind; empty rifles to use as clubs, tools of various kinds, and the spare cutlasses that had belonged to those now dead or to the wounded.
Slowly and wearily the night wore away, and I do not think that anyone really slept.
Guilford and McTavish were watching among the wounded, and towards morning the latter had fallen into an uneasy kind of doze, when he was suddenly awakened by Kep himself.
"A negro wants to speak to you, sir."
Beside the boy Kep, and full in the light of the newly risen moon, stood one of the freed slaves, wildly but silently gesticulating and pointing to a far-off corner of the barracoon.
Something must have happened; in a few minutes the camp was astir, and the men had fallen in, prepared for anything.
The quick ear of the savage had detected the advance of armed men. But whether friends or foes as yet they could not tell. Birds, however, were flying over the camp in dozens, and it was this fact that had told the clever savage that people were approaching.
The British sentries would have taken but little, if any, heed of a sign like this, and the probability therefore would have been that an attack in force would have been made before the men were half awake.
They now lay concealed in the bush, rifles pointed towards the still coming flights of birds.
Nearly a whole hour passed. The moon was high and the night very clear. Now and then a wild and uncanny scream was heard far away in the forest depths; but whether it proceeded from man or beast no one could tell.
A whole hour! Yes, and what an interminable time it seemed to be.
But list! Beyond the palisade there are sounds now. Ay, and shouts too; and next moment, between them and the moonlight, they could see the whole top of the barricade covered with yelling Arabs.
But the men had their orders, and not a shot was fired on these.
They were allowed to leap inside.
Mercy on us, what an end was theirs! The freed men caught them almost before they had alighted, and the wild screams and demon shouts told of the fearful tragedy that was being enacted.
But another row of devil Arabs lines the palisades, and now rifles speak out. Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop. It is one continuous rattle, and as fast as the Arabs scale the height, just as fast do they fall; while those who succeed in leaping down are quickly seized upon and butchered by the very men to whom they had dealt out such fearful treatment in their far-off peaceful land.
Worsted for a time, the Arabs withdrew, after making several attempts to carry the barracoon by storm.
But that they would return ere long right well those Breezies knew.
Although the Arabs had fired volley after volley, yet, strange to say, they had not in this attack a single man wounded, so well did they keep to the bush and so steady was their fire.
All the Arabs that fell into the hands of the blacks were slain; indeed, they were almost rent limb from limb, and it was with the greatest difficulty CaptainBreezysucceeded at last in preventing the freed men from expending their fury on the mutilated corpses, which they even bit and tore with their teeth, till, dancing there in the moonlight, they looked more like devils incarnate than human beings.
There was but little chance that the enemy would attack again at the same place, so a little black slave was sent up the tree, instructed to signal whenever the foe was approaching, and point out his position.
They found they had still about seventy rounds of ammunition left per man, but, as this would not stand a long siege, orders were given not to throw way a single shot.
The next attack was made about half an hour before sunrise, and a sudden determined and terrible one it was.
The first the Breezies knew of its commencement was from a fusillade delivered from the bush. Although such splendid swordsmen, the Arabs are not good marksmen, and their rifles are usually bad. In this case it appeared they had determined to make sure. Not fewer than twenty rifles must have been aimed at the cocoa-nut palm, hidden in which was our little black sentry.
Next moment his body fell at their feet with a dull and awful splashing thud, the sound of which could never be forgotten.
The Arabs attacked about five minutes after, and from a side of the barracoon--so wily were they--that the white men fancied they would never attempt to scale.
Before they had fired two volleys they were over the palisade, not in scores but in hundreds apparently. One more rifle volley was filed, then the Breezies advanced at the double to meet the foe.
I cannot describe that terriblemêlée. The charge of those sword-armed Arabs seemed like "the shock of Hell" that Scott speaks of in Marmion.
Sword in hand, McTavish was in it. He was stunned very early in the engagement by a blow from something, he knew not what, and fell between two dead men, namely, an Arab whom Kep's sword had gone clean through, and a freed slave that the Arab had cloven to the chin.
When the surgeon recovered consciousness and looked up, the tide of battle had rolled away from him. Strangely enough, as he gazed for a few moments, still confused and bewildered, at the fearful fight that was raging, a passage from Scott kept running in his mind and memory--
They close in clouds of smoke and dust,With sword-sway and with lance's thrust,And such a yell was there,Of sudden and portentous birth,As if men fought upon this earth,And fiends in upper air.
They close in clouds of smoke and dust,With sword-sway and with lance's thrust,And such a yell was there,Of sudden and portentous birth,As if men fought upon this earth,And fiends in upper air.
They close in clouds of smoke and dust,
With sword-sway and with lance's thrust,
And such a yell was there,
And such a yell was there,
Of sudden and portentous birth,
As if men fought upon this earth,
And fiends in upper air.
And fiends in upper air.
While he was staggering to his feet, a sound fell upon his ears that told him they were saved. It was the rolling, rattling sound of a maxim gun.
The Arabs heard it too. Next minute the great gate of the barracoon was burst open, and not twenty bluejackets, but fully a hundred came pouring in. That brave British cheer, as the bluejackets came rushing onwards, cutlass in hand, was the signal for the enemy's flight.
Seeing the gate open, they made a slightdétour, which was but a feint; then rushed madly for the opening.
Outside was the maxim gun!
Does not that one little sentence tell a tale. That maxim gun! How awful its voice. How deathlike its rattle!
Well, the battle was won.
Did they extend mercy to the retreating Arabs? Notverymuch, I fear. In fact, the freed slaves took up the chase, and in the bush completed the deadly work the maxim gun had begun.
Right faithfully and well had poor Bungle done his duty. But, poor fellow, it was noticed at once he was not among the new comers, who consisted chiefly of men from the other cruiser under the command of the first lieutenant, a larger vessel than theBreezy.
Kep hastened to inquire about his little friend.
"He arrived at the place where you left your gun and boats," was the reply, "almost dead. He had only time to tell your fellows that assistance was sorely needed and that they must take the gun and follow your trail, when he fainted. Your men came off to our ship, and here we are."
"But the boy is not dead?" Kep asked anxiously.
"I fear that by this time he is."
"Why, Guilford, who is this?" said McTavish next minute, for as they walked slowly towards the tent they came across the corpse of a richly-dressed Arab, who, the doctor felt certain at first, was Abdularram himself.
Guilford only laughed. "That's the general." he said. "And I guess he's only waiting patiently to be buried."
"Who killed him? Guilford,youdid!"
Guilford only laughed again, but said nothing.
* * * * *
It took them two whole days to reach the coast with the wounded and slaves, and very anxious Kep was to know the fate of Bungle.
They arrived at the creek safely at last, and here a temporary camp was formed and fortified, in which to house these freed slaves until an opportunity came to ship them off to Zanzibar.
CHAPTER XVI
POOR BUNGLE! JUST LET HIM SLEEP
Sail in sight!
It was a shout from a man on the outlook on the fore-topmast cross-trees.
"Where away?" sang Guilford, who was on duty.
"On the starboard bow, sir. Well in towards the land. Just coming round the wooded point yonder."
"Why, sir," he hailed a few minutes afterwards, "it ain't one, but three, four o' them there is."
Guilford went scrambling up into the maintop with his glasses slung over his shoulder. He was too tall to make a very graceful sailor, but he got there all the same.
It was in the forenoon watch, just two days after they had left the slave camp in the creek. The other cruiser had gone on before with a large cargo of the freed slaves, and would be in Zanzibar ere now.
At the very first hail from aloft everyone had hurried on deck, to get if possible a peep at the enemy, for no one doubted for a moment that these great dhows, now slowly rounding the point, were the fighting fleet of the daring Arab Viking, Abdularram.
They were prettily manoeuvred, and at first it was hoped that they would bear down upon theBreezyand attack.
But Abdularram--who had not been killed after all--was too good an admiral to do anything of the kind. His tactics were those of naval guerilla warfare, and now he filled sail and stood out to sea, bearing up for the south and east. The reason was simply because the wind blew in this direction, and before a breeze a well-rigged dhow is as fleet as a drifting cloud.
"Prepare for action!"
Right merrily now the bugle rang out over the clear, blue rippling water. The very sea-birds seemed to rejoice at the sound, and came sweeping nearer and nearer, apparently trying to repeat the call.
In a few minutes' time all was ready as far as arms were concerned.
Full speed was now the order on board theBreezy, and steam was got up, for the fires had only been banked.
Meanwhile, it is needless to say that the doctor was not idle, nor his able assistant, Kep, either. The wounded men, with the exception of a few of the worst cases that had been sent on in the other ship, had been placed under a canvas screen, forward near the bows on the upper deck, and these had to be carefully moved below.
Your British tar makes a most kindly and gentle nurse, and it was a pleasure to note how tenderly the seamen McTavish had called to his assistance bore their shipmates down below, and laid them on the deck.
Meanwhile the chase went on. The dhows had a long start; but by afternoon the wind had gone down somewhat, and theBreezywas soon coming up hand over hand. At three o'clock she succeeded in disabling two with shot and shell. A third had escaped. Seeing boats lower to board the crippled dhows, No. 4 bore down upon them and prepared to render assistance, but a shell from theBreezywent screaming through her rigging; then she filled and fled, leaving her comrades to their fate. They made a gallant resistance; but their defenders were finally beaten off their own blood-slippery decks and battened down below. Prize crews were put on board with orders to bear up for Zanzibar; and then theBreezywent on after the largest dhow, the flagship of Abdularram himself.
[image]"A shell from theBreezywent screaming through her rigging."
[image]
[image]
"A shell from theBreezywent screaming through her rigging."
Abdularram in his great dhow escaped entirely when the darkness fell like a pall over sea and land, for to-night there was never a star, the glass was going down, and there was every likelihood of a storm. And it soon began to blow.
This made it hard for every one.
"Bad luck," said Guilford, "not to catch that scoundrel."
"Bad luck for the wounded also," said McTavish; and so it turned out, for several of these died before morning, the pitching and rolling of theBreezybeing very great.
"How is your boy Bungle?" asked one of the middies as Kep, looking somewhat crest-fallen, entered the gun-room.
"He is very low indeed," replied Kep, "and the doctor thinks he cannot live."
"Going to slip his moorings, is he? Poor little devil! Is he sensible?"
"Oh, yes, and bears his sufferings like a small hero, as indeed he is."
"Ah, well!" said the middy, "that's the tack we'll all be on--some day. Mellor, give that decanter of wine you seem to stick to, a fair wind this way."
"I'm holding on to it," said Mellor, "because it has a ball-bottom and won't stand on the table."
"Of course it won't. It was made like that on purpose, you untamed idiot, so that dolts like you should pass it round."
* * * * *
TheBreezyarrived at Zanzibar all right in two days' time, in spite of the storm.
War-worn and weary, that same night the good surgeon had sunk to sleep among his wounded men on deck, and some kind-hearted sailor had drawn a tarpaulin over him. It was broad daylight when he awoke him.
"I let you sleep, sir. I thought you needed it. Another man dead, sir, and poor boy Bungle going fast, I fear. Insensible now."
"Just let him sleep," said McTavish.
But when Kep went back to the brave little lad's hammock Bungle opened his eyes, and smiled faintly.
"Is there anything you would like, Bungle?"
"In dis world, no," was the faint reply. "But you speakee my ole mudder. Tell she, dat Bungle nevah fo'got."
Then his left hand was half raised to his brow as if to touch his forelock. Next moment it fell heavily on the coverlet.
Bungle was gone.
Only a little black boy? True, but may we all do our duty as bravely and well in the world as Bungle did his.
The wounded were all sent to hospital. They would be conveyed to the Cape by the very next steamer.
But something was in the wind surely, for the fleet on this station now received orders by cable to return to Symon's Bay with all speed after taking in sufficient coal.
Kep had time to go on shore. He went in mufti, not his Arab dress. In mufti and after dark. He could do nothing to find out the whereabouts of little boy Bungle's "ole mudder," and so she would never know what had been the fate of her little son.
Perhaps it was better so. For she would do now as most mothers do--just live on in hope of one day seeing him back again.
Taking great care not to be seen, Kep now went to pay a visit to his friend the Arab and to wee Zeena.
I need not waste a sentence in telling of the reception he had nor of the happy evening he spent, or the farewells said. Zeena was Kep's little romance, and it would be very long indeed before he could forget the child.
* * * * *
Why had the ships been ordered down to the Cape? It is a question I cannot really answer. It was now the year 1908, and notwithstanding the great advances in every kind of science, there will still be a few blind men at the Admiralty and in the Government generally. The consequence was that there was far too much wire-pulling. Much was lost by our fleets on the various stations having to wait for orders from home.
The scare on this particular occasion was brought about by what was called an unpremeditated attack by a supposed German cruiser on some British merchant steamers.
In fact some of the latter had been looted and sunk, and their crews and passengers landed almost starving on the nearest land. But as the Germans disclaimed all knowledge of the cruiser, which they advanced in their arguments must be a sort of pirate orAlabama, then the British bull-dog began to growl, and the peace-at-any-price tried to appease him, and said he must not fly at poor Germany, for that heavenly land and all in it were most friendly to the bull-dog. Negotiation, negotiation, that, they said, would settle all disputes.
Well, it eventually did in this case at all events. But there were wheels within wheels, political mining and counter-mining, and intrigues deep and shallow.
Be all this as it may, Zanzibar was for the present left unprotected save by its own fleet. Now this fleet was a very good one, as I have before hinted, and if manned by British seamen it could really have done some splendid execution when it came to be wanted. At present it lay in the open roadstead, and was even anchored without much system.
The new Sultan was very easy-minded. The ships made a fine show. That was delightful, and especially did he love to look upon them on gala days. In fact, he made gala days and kept birthdays and high days, just for the pleasure of seeing his war-ships dressed all over with bunting. And such a blaze of colour had really a fine back-ground by day in the blue bright Indian Ocean.
Then when darkness came the Sultan spent a deal of his pocket money precisely as boys do in the first week in November. He went in heavily for fireworks, and the ships were all lit up with blue or crimson fire. The Sultan of Lamoo was not a fool, and he had some heavy men (of other nations be it whispered) who backed him. He had, moreover, a splendid admiral in Abdularram. Perhaps he knew more about dhow-fleets than gun-boats or cruisers, but he had men on board the spit-fire shiplets of Lamoo that knew far more about the newest class of torpedoes than they did about the Koran.
There is a tradition (as in a former book of mine I mentioned) that one time--date forgotten--when Zanzibar was not so valuable a possession, but a city nevertheless of some 300,000 inhabitants, an enormous fleet of armed dhows suddenly appeared like a cloud of locusts on the distant horizon. And like the locust-cloud, it bore right down upon the city, and an army of strange men was thrown upon the beach and at once attacked the Sultan's forces. These had soon been made an end of, and the palace was robbed.
The whole town was looted--women carried off, and all who resisted slain.
But, so says the tradition, the army at last re-embarked, carrying with them their dead and wounded, then this Armada put to sea again. They disappeared beyond the horizon and were never seen nor heard tell of in this world again.
They were foreign men, they were foreign dhows, foreign devils all, but who they were or whence they came may never be known.
However, history was now going in some measure to repeat itself, without so much of the mysterious.
Down the beautiful river, therefore, which after gliding through a quiet landscape of green and charming forest, rolls over a sandy bar and empties itself into the Indian Ocean, there dropped one day the midget fleet of Lamoo, and one by one braved the danger of the only opening in the reef, and got clear and safely out.
They were small vessels, very, but every one of them carried death on her decks, and death between decks, in the shape of guns and torpedoes.
They numbered only ten and were all of the same class.
If they were lacking in anything it was speed, and although they had good gunnery men on board their engineers had none too much skill. In addition to sailors proper their decks were crowded with dare-devil fighting Arabs, many of the chiefs of whom had old scores to settle with the inhabitants of Zanzibar.
They had orders from the Sultan of Lamoo to bring back with them the Sultan of Zanzibar--alive. He must be alive, Lamoo said, for in the fierce heat of the tropics, "if dead he would not keep a day."
The Sultan of Lamoo found great pleasure in preparing quarters for his coming sovereign guest. The palace, which looks a very noble one and quite imposing from the broad river front, was specially refurnished, and all that the art of the twentieth century could suggest was lavished thereon. He had even ordered new dresses for himself all ablaze with the most precious stones, and the ladies of his harem were also, much to their delight, refitted as it were. For this wicked Sultan was to lead his august prisoner all through the palace--securely manacled of course--in order to dazzle his eyes with its gorgeousness.
He had bought the best new gramophones and pianolas for this especial purpose, with pictures galore, and carpets as soft as feather beds. Indeed he had not regarded expense in any way, and determined even to permit his majesty to have a peep inside his beautiful harem, the ladies of which he had specially trained to close on his entry in every form of gracefulness imaginable, and on these as they posed colour flash lights were to be turned.
This was all very delightful, especially for Lamoo himself, but his guest's bedroom had also to be refitted and replenished, for here he was to remain for a week, or as much longer as he chose to live without food, unless he chose to devour the awful rats and reptiles with which this slimy dungeon was purposely stored.
When the fleet was once fairly at sea, the three happiest men anywhere on the coast of Africa were Admiral Abdularram, who gloated on the thoughts of the coming bombardment, the Sultan of Zanzibar because he was in blissful ignorance of what was to happen, and Lamoo himself, as he mused all day and dreamt all night about the treat he had in store for his kingly guest.