Tom Willoughby's Scouts

ospital orderly; and in every capacity he was efficient. His snares and traps stocked the larder; the grain, he had brought from the plantation was eked o

nd never failed to sing the praises of his uncle Mirambo. His constant cheerfulness acted as a tonic on his

r of the country to be travelled. The extent of his information was that Abercorn lay somewhere to the south-west, and from a hazy recollection of a map glanced at during his voyage from England he guessed that the

he would have to cross the main German road connecting Bismarckburg on Lake Tanganyika with Neu Langenburg about twenty miles north-west of Lake Nyassa. This, the only practicable highway, might be c

meal, took his pot to the lake, and washed it thoroughly. He filled with water a couple of gourds, one of which he fitted with a grass thong for slinging over Tom's shoulder. Tom cleaned his r

the hut. Tom, surprised, followed him, and found him standing in an attitude of expectancy just outside. A few mom

g his head in the direction

it before?"

y waited. A minute or two passed; the cry was

ll; man b

... No, wait. Reinecke may be setting a trap for us. Perhaps he has visited t

ey heard

with me, besides

Mirambo say no tell: b

imself. But we will not call here; let us get away from

the zariba, and made their way into the nullah. The cry was repeated once more; this time it was louder. When they had walked nearly a quarter of a mile down

a, his big eyes gleaming.

ll

e of the watercourse. The two negroes embraced, and Mushota, his features and arms working with excitement, pour

ed him deeply. He turned to his master, and seemed to striv

Tom. "We can only just see to find our wa

s in rank and education; but with this faithful negro lad, ignorant, struggling to express himself in a strange and difficult language, he

he man in the presence of the whole company of recruits. Mirambo had retaliated with a swift blow that knocked the German off his feet. The sergeant, when he got up, was on the point of shooting the negro; but the head overseer, interposing, explained that Mirambo was Reinecke's best hunting man, and the sergeant had then ordered him to be chained up until Re

a put his cousin's plea. It was almost laughable that they should seek help of him, a fugiti

"Sah savvy big medicine, white m

ic art, he was at a loss what answer to make. He was willing enough to help, but quite unable to see how. It seemed best to temporise-

table disappointment, for Mwesa clapped his hands and laughed, and said to Mushota a few

s? What would be the effect on them? He could enter into their feelings through the recollection of an incident of his own childhood. His father had promised him, a child of five, the pr

what I can. He can get in and out: why shouldn't I? Reinecke is absent. I don't suppose he ever confided to the Arabs his pleasant intentions with regard to me; perhaps I might venture to tackl

ad kept always burning in the enclosure revealed to Tom the look of hopeful contentme

l Reineck

s cousin. The answer w

mans are at t

r had accompan

w many

rs had gone to

t if the man, by some lucky stroke, were released? Would he consent to escape without his family? There were five in all: the larger the party, th

ise overshadowed the warning: the m'sungu would go; every other good thing would follow. Half vexed, half amus

s were beginning to stir, the three clambered down on the outside of the zariba and started on their long tramp. Tom wish

ream that supplied the plantation with water. Climbing down the steep moss-covered bank, they crept quietly along the bed until they reached the thorn fence, which formed an impenetrable barrier across the stream. In the bank, just on the outside, Mwesa pulled

crawling in a grave. Some day, he thought, the earth will fall in; he wondered that such a tunnel, made with no art, had not collapsed long ago. Its inner en

xteen to forty and upwards, were drawn up in ranks. At each end hovered an Arab overseer with his whip. And facing the recruits, some yards away from them, stood the German sergeant, a stiff, thick-set, bull-necked soldier, differing from hundreds of his kind whom Tom had seen in Germany only in his uniform, which, more suited to the African climate, was less compliment

his hybrid dialect, and having thus let off steam, repeated his sharp words of command. It was evident that he was attempting to teach the recruits how to form extended order from fours, and Tom almost sympathised with him as th

, sah," whispered Mwe

the further end of the row of huts, in full view from every part of the parade ground. An askari was standing at ease outside it. Tom's sense of the

ral vicious cuts across the face. Yelling with pain and rage, the victim had sprung upon the sergeant, hurled him to the ground, and seized him by the throat. Two of the overseers had just

down to the ground on the rear side, and ran, under cover of a line of bushes, until he was some thirty yards nearer the body of recruits. Then, stiffening himself, he emerged into the open, rifle in hand, and advanced with quick martial strides across the parade ground. Until that moment he had not been seen; the sergeant and the Arabs had their backs towards him; but th

, release

ht, and from the dwellings along one side of the parade ground the whole negro population, men, women and children, trooped forth shouting welcome to the m'sungu, and utterly regardless of the overseers. The sergeant's authority had v

ES A DI

s way with two of the Arabs to the jail hut, under guard of two of his own askaris. Tom, wondering how long the man

overseers bolting across the parade

the gate, was seized by a score of sinewy hands and hauled back with yells of triumphant glee, to join the other prisoners in the lock-up. Tom, with Mwesa as interpreter, ordered Mirambo to collect all the men on the parade ground, and there wait for him. Then, astonished a