CHAPTER XIX
CORNERED AT LAST
Checking the natural exuberance of his wildly delighted men Wilmshurst obtained the information that the battalion, acting in conjunction with a Punjabi infantry regiment and a couple of squadrons of Light Horse, was about to deliver a surprise attack upon the enemy. Once again the wily Hun had disappointed the British forces. By means of native scouts the Germans had learnt of the approach of the relieving forces, and without waiting to exchange shots the former had effected a prompt and skilfully-conducted retirement.
Accompanied by one of the Haussas Wilmshurst hastened to inform his commanding officer of the state of affairs. On the way he found big Spofforth with the advance-guard. The latter greeted his missing chum cordially.
"You're a lucky blighter!" he exclaimed, as he critically surveyed Dudley's ragged and dishevelled appearance. "You always manage to see some fun. Here are we, after two days' hard marching, sold completely, and not a chance to fire a shot. Well, what have you been doing?"
"I'll tell you later," replied Wilmshurst. "I must report to the C.O. Briefly, we've missed von Gobendorff, but we've had one of the toughest little scraps I've ever experienced."
Colonel Quarrier was both delighted and disappointed with his junior officer's report. His satisfaction at the news of the successful defence of the kraal was unbounded; but his brow darkened when he learnt of the escape of Ulrich von Gobendorff.
"We heard from native sources that you were in a tight corner, Mr. Wilmshurst," he remarked in conclusion. "How the news got through in so short a time is one of those unsolved mysteries appertaining to the inhabitants of Central Africa. We pushed ahead with a column hoping to catch Fritz sitting; but we were done. Well, ought you to rejoin your temporary unit? If you prefer you can remain till dawn, for I do not intend to move further till then. We don't want any exchange of shots by mistake."
"I'll return, sir," replied the subaltern. "The men will be bucked to hear the good news. I shouldn't wonder if they aren't getting a bit anxious, for I was due back an hour ago."
Without mishap the subaltern traversed the intervening stretch of scrub, crossed the open space and gained the kraal, where, as he had expected, the good news was hailed with enthusiasm. For the first time since the investment of the village the defenders were able to snatch a few hours' undisturbed sleep unaccompanied by the intermittent reports of rifles and the constant expectation of being called to arms.
Dawn was breaking when a squadron of Rhodesian Light Horse cantered up to the bullet-torn stockade, their arrival being hailed with three cheers by the undaunted patrol and a deafening clamour from the natives, who had played no inconspicuous part in the defence of the kraal. Twenty minutes later the Waffs marched in, followed by an Indian battalion, which bivouacked in the open.
"Here we remain—so the C.O. says," declared Danvers, as the four platoon-commanders of "A" Company gathered together in a native hut temporarily converted into the mess. "It's a step nearer the Karewenda Hills, and there, according to accounts, Fritz will make a last stand."
"Unless he prefers Cape Town," added Spofforth, and the five officers laughed at the jest. "As things are going it reminds me of that kid's game 'Ring-a-ring-o'-Roses'—simply barging round and round and getting no forrarder."
"Dashed smart chap that servant of yours, Wilmshurst," remarked Laxdale, after the subaltern had related the story of Bela Moshi's devotion. "And how is he progressing?"
"Splendidly, according to Dr. Barkley's latest report," replied Dudley. "If any fellow deserves the D.C.M. it's he."
"And a little bird whispered to me," continued Laxdale, "that a certain member of the antient and accepted order of the Lone Star Crush did a jolly risky thing—fetching water under enemy fire."
Wilmshurst coloured hotly.
"Rot!" he ejaculated. "Fritz couldn't see me. They were putting up a lot of small arms ammunition, of course. No, that's nothing; almost forgot about it, in fact."
But if Wilmshurst had dismissed the incident from his mind the water had not forgotten him. The poisonous germs in the non-filtered liquid were doing their lethal work, and that evening the subaltern was down with a severe bout of malaria.
In a covered dhoolie Wilmshurst was sent down to a hospital base-camp. With him went Rupert, who, on the setting in of the reaction following his release, was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Within a couple of months Dudley was back with his battalion. Many times he bitterly reproached himself for being out of action for that period simply because he did not exercise sufficient restraint when he drank the tainted water. He realised that he alone was to blame, while most of the trouble fell upon the shoulders of his brother platoon-commanders, who already had their full share of work and responsibility.
He found the battalion at a place twenty miles further away from the Karewenda Hills than the kraal where he had played so conspicuous a part in its defence.
"You needn't have been so rattled about it, old boy," declared Spofforth. "You've missed none of the fun, for the simple reason that there hasn't been any. A fortnight ago we were within sight of Twashi. There was a Belgian column operating on the north-west side. It looked as if we were going to do something great, when we had to retire through lack of provisions. It appears that a few Huns got away and started playing the deuce with our lines of communication; put the kybosh on a couple of convoys and generally made things unpleasant."
"Rather," agreed Laxdale. "I've been hungry many a time, but now I know what it means to have to tighten one's belt. I'll qualify for the Army Light-weight Championship yet."
"A week ago I seriously thought of going on exhibition as a living skeleton," remarked Danvers. "You've been jolly lucky, Wilmshurst; you're as fat as a prize turkey-cock. They've been stuffing you down at the base."
"At any rate I'll soon work it down to normal," rejoined Wilmshurst. "Any company news?"
"Nothing much," replied Spofforth. "Two casualties in your platoon. Bela Moshi is still away (hard lines, thought Wilmshurst), but the recommendation for the D.C.M. has gone through. The black sinner will be as proud as a dog with two tails when he gets the medal."
Within a week of Dudley's rejoining, the column was again in position to resume offensive operations. Well guarded convoys had arrived, including a much-needed ammunition column, while with the advent of the rainy season the difficulty of feeding the horses and mules was considerably reduced.
The troops advanced on a broad front, the Waffs in the centre, a Punjabi battalion on the right and a Pathan regiment on the left. Light Horse and Indian Lancers operated on both flanks, while a battery of mountain guns acted in support of the infantry.
For the last three weeks a strong Belgian column had been sitting on the banks of the Tuti, a river flowing in a south-westerly direction behind the Karewenda Hills and joining the Kiwa fifty miles S.S.W. of M'ganga. By holding the fords the Belgians effectually cut off the retreat of the Huns from Twashi, and the latter being fully aware of that unpleasant fact were confronted with one of two alternatives—to fight it out or surrender.
Four days' steady marching brought the British column within striking distance of the outermost lines of defence. The difficult nature of the ground made it impossible to run the position. A frontal attack had to be delivered in order to pierce the line, but before this could be done the intervening ground had to be carefully reconnoitred, as many of the defences had been thrown up during the last few days, Fritz working with feverish energy when he found himself cornered.
During the course of the day four Germans approached the outlying piquets and made signs that they wished to surrender. Blindfolded they were escorted to headquarters and subjected to a rigorous examination. They admitted frankly that supplies both of food and ammunition were running short and that the Askaris were restless and showing signs of mutiny. The prisoners also gave details of the position of some of the German advance works, stating that they were but lightly held. Each man being showed a military map he indicated the position of the defence in question; and, what was more, the descriptions coincided with each other.
"It would be well, however, not to take too much for granted, sir," remarked the adjutant to Colonel Quarrier after the Germans had been removed. "This surrender business may be a put-up job to throw dust in our eyes. Their yarn has a sort of carefully-practised savour about it."
"Perhaps you are right," agreed the C.O. of the Waffs. "It would be as well to be content with a feint upon this section of the defences in case there is a labyrinth of mines. What sort of ground is this?"
He pointed with a pencil to the map spread out in front of him. The adjutant looked, frowned and tugged at his moustache.
"I really cannot say, sir," he replied at length. "If the map is correct——"
"I refer to the actual terrain," interrupted Colonel Quarrier. "Look here, Manners; if it is fairly undulating, and not too steep on the north-eastern side, it ought to be admirably suited for a coup-de-main. Frontal, of course, but that is inevitable."
"Just so, sir," murmured the adjutant. Colonel Quarrier deliberately folded up the map. "Very well," he said in conclusion. "Send a reliable officer out. I want an accurate report. Whom can you suggest?"
Captain Manners pondered.
"There's Mr. Spofforth, sir——"
"Too jolly lanky for the job," objected the colonel.
"Mr. Danvers——"
"Took lowest marks at map-reading," continued the critical C.O. "A smart officer in every other respect."
"Mr. Laxdale——"
"Lacks caution," declared Colonel Quarrier. "No pun intended. A good man in a rush at the head of his platoon, but for individual work—Who's next?"
"Mr. Wilmshurst, sir."
"Only just out of hospital," was the C.O.'s dictum.
"But fit and as keen as mustard, sir," persisted the adjutant for two reasons. He was getting a bit bored at having his recommendations summarily "choked off"; he also knew that Dudley Wilmshurst was, apart from being a soldier, a scout by instinct, and that he had plenty of experience of the conditions of life in the bush.
"Very well, then," declared the C.O. "Broach the subject to him privately, Manners. If he jumps at it, send him to me."
Ten minutes later Second-Lieutenant Dudley Wilmshurst "jumped."