In the grip of the Mullah: A tale of adventure in Somaliland

by F. S. Brereton

"And here are five more!" called the first, who had now reached the opposite side, making a funnel of his hands, so that his voice should carry the more surely; "and by their side, and for some feet on the marshy edge of the water, the mud and grass is trampled by a hundred feet. It is clear that this alarm was caused by more than one of the enemy."

For a minute there was silence as the Mullah cogitated, and then mindful of the fact that he must not hesitate—for to do so would be to show weakness before his followers—he once more issued his orders.

"Few or many, we must follow, and that at once," he called. "Therefore, I command that the greater part of you at once cross the water and search out the tracks of these invaders. Others shall mount the fleetest horses we possess, and gallop to their brothers with the word that they are to leap into their saddles and come hither like the wind. Then, with myself at their head to lead and guide them with my wisdom, we, too, will ford the stream and take up the chase. Be sure, my men, that Allah will aid us in this matter, as He has always done, for are we not brave and deserving of His favour?"

His followers were eager to obey his words, and before a quarter of an hour had passed some fifteen of them rode down to the water's edge, and spurring their ponies into the water, swam them boldly across. Then with a forest of blazing torches held high above their heads, they took up the supposed tracks of the fugitives, and followed them to the rocky and hard ground beyond. But here their cunning and native craft were baffled, for not a scratch, not a hoof-mark could be seen upon the uneven surface, in spite of the fact that each one of the warriors was trained in such matters, and possessed eyes as keen as those of a ferret. An hour passed, and still they could make nothing of the difficulty, and were compelled to send one of their number to the Mullah with a message to that effect.

"What! No further sign of them!" exclaimed the latter wrathfully, issuing from his hut. "I will return with you and see into this matter."

Diving back into the darkness of his dwelling, he reappeared in a few minutes with a flowing robe about him and a rifle of modern workmanship in his hand. At a shout from one of the men near at hand, a pure-bred Arab, clean of limb, and with tossing mane, was led up by a native slave, who stood there, bridle in hand, holding the finely worked stirrup for his lord and master. Scarcely had he arrived when the leader, disdaining the aid so invitingly held out towards him, leapt with a bound into the saddle. With the certainty of a practised equestrian, his feet fell into the stirrups, while his left hand picked up the embroidered reins. Then, waving his rifle above his head, he plunged the cruel rowels with which his heels were armed into the flanks of the noble animal, which at once sprang forward with a bound that would have unseated any but an accomplished horseman. With a snort, and a shout from the rider, they plunged recklessly into the river, and began to swim across. It was grand to see the manner in which the Arab thoroughbred clambered to the top of the bank beyond, and shook himself there like a dog, while the gleam of the torches shone upon his silky coat. It was splendid, too, to watch this Mullah, forgetful of intrigue and of the arts by which he maintained his authority over his followers, become a man again. Tossing the reins upon the animal's neck, he placed a hand upon the pommel of the saddle, and then leapt lightly to the ground.

"A torch!" he cried sharply. "Fools! Give me one of the brands, that I may search with my own eyes. Ha! Now follow behind me, and beware how you tread, for I wish not to be led away by the footprints which you yourselves have made."

Cowed by his fierceness, the search-party promptly obeyed his orders, falling in behind him, and following every movement he made.

"Let me start at the beginning, and then work from the river," cried the Mullah, striding to the edge of the water, where he sank to his ankles in the soft mud. "Here is the groove which the prow of the boat cut as it was run to the shore, and here, deeply impressed in the ooze, is the sandal-mark of the man who first leapt overboard. See!" He turned, and digging his heels into the ground, so as to lend power to his arms, he dragged the craft still higher. "And here are the prints of those who followed him. One, two—I count eight of them, but—what is this? Each one is broad and long and of precisely the same pattern. It is strange that all the infidels who landed here should be possessed of feet which do not differ in size. We must be careful, for this enemy of ours is a cunning one, and has already proved difficult to deal with."

Something had awakened the suspicion of this crafty leader, for, as if a sudden thought had come to him, he bent low, till his head and beard almost swept the ground, and peered at the various depressions to be seen there. Then he stalked away from the edge of the water, bearing the torch at his feet, until he came to the broken ground beyond. He did not venture as yet, however, to give his views to those who accompanied him, but, satisfied that he would learn nothing more at that spot, he trudged across to where a second boat lay drawn up on the shore. Repeating precisely the same process as before, he passed to the third and fourth in succession, and, finally, to the last. Only then, when there was no longer room for doubt in his own mind, did he permit his warriors to gain an inkling of his thoughts. But now the evidence of a ruse was so clear that there was no fear of making a blunder, and consequently of losing prestige amongst his men. Therefore, calling them about him with a peremptory wave of the torch, he addressed them in deep tones, which trembled, so great was his anger.