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

by F. S. Brereton

At the old man's words the tribesmen gave vent to a loud shout, and, gathering together, ran swiftly towards the ravine.

"Another minute and we shall let them have it," said Jim quietly. "Call gently to all the men to make ready."

Raising his rifle to his shoulder, he aimed for the centre of the mass of struggling humanity, and pressed the trigger. An instant later a line of flame flashed from behind the barricade and from the ledges on either side. So rapidly did the men open and close the breeches of their weapons, that the volley seemed to be an endless one. Here and there it would stop for a few seconds, as the magazine was emptied, but within a very short while it broke out again, spurting into the darkness, till the opening of the ravine was almost as light as the plain outside. At the first discharge the tribesmen had stood aghast, thunderstruck at the audacity of their enemies. Then rage took hold of them, and they came on, this time in silence, their eyes blazing with hate, and their minds made up to kill their opponents, whatever happened. Surging forward, in spite of their losses, they reached the rocky entrance of the gorge, and became almost wedged. Then a few, breaking from their comrades, dashed at the barricade, and at once joined in a fierce hand-to-hand contest with Jim and the six men who stood beside him. To the last moment Jim kept on firing, and then, when there was no cartridge left in his weapon, he grasped it by the barrel, and leaping, in his excitement upon the wall of stones, dashed it down upon the heads of the attackers. Indeed, he seemed to be endowed with extraordinary strength, for he swung his rifle as if it had been a roll of paper, and brought it down with a force which could not be broken. Ali Kumar did his utmost to support his young leader, while the five remaining men, tossing their guns to one side, drew their swords and threw themselves upon the tribesmen with a fury equal to their own.

And all the while the men who were stationed on the ledges above kept up a terrible fire, sending their bullets swishing into the huddled masses of the enemy. But in spite of all the efforts of the garrison, it seemed at first as though the enemy would prove victorious, for nothing seemed able to check them. In another place, indeed, they would have been successful, without a doubt, but here their very numbers hampered them, and prevented more than a few from closing with the defenders at one moment. Had Jim and the natives who were with him given way, the tide of tribesmen would have surged over the barricade, and not a man would have lived to tell the tale. But they clung to their position with desperate bravery, and finally drove their assailants back.

"Now for the magazines!" shouted Jim. "Fill them up, and open again!"

Though they could not understand a word, his men saw his meaning at a glance, for he turned upon them, and flinging the lock of his rifle open, began to slip cartridges into it. Then, waiting until they, too, were ready, he brought his weapon to his shoulder, and once more the line of fire spurted from behind the barricade. A minute later Jim sprang over the breastwork, and rushed forward. But his intention was not to throw himself upon the assailants, but to commit an act of bravery; for suddenly one of the men posted upon the ledge upon his right had risen to aim at the enemy, and overbalancing himself, had come crashing to the ground, where he lay within a few paces of the wall of stones, at the mercy of the enemy. With an agile leap Jim was beside him almost as soon as he touched the ground, and catching him by the arm, dragged him towards his friends. Then, tossing his weapon to Ali, who looked on speechless with astonishment, he caught the native up in his arms, and scrambled back amongst his comrades with him. The whole had been the work of a few moments only, and was completed before the tribesmen could take advantage of the opportunity so suddenly presented to them. It proved, indeed, a turning-point in the conflict, for, filled with exultation at their young leader's bravery, the defenders set up a shout which set the rocks ringing, and then dashed forward to the attack, Jim joining them. Filled with consternation as these men, who seemed more than mortal, closed with them, the tribesmen turned about with one accord, and bolted into the plain, leaving their opponents proud masters of the scene.

"And now let us see who is hurt," said Jim breathlessly, sitting upon a boulder to rest for a few moments after the fray. "Line the men up, Ali, and tell me if any are killed."

"We have had great fortune," answered the native headman. "I have already been amongst the following, and I find that two only are killed, the one being Rigba Hamah, who fell from the cliff above, and the second Ali Tumbi, who fell at the last assault. As for wounds, we all have one or more to show, but they are nothing, and will be well in a week."

"Then I'll ask you to tie up my arm," said Jim quietly. "I fancy that a slug has ploughed a big hole through it."

Leading his master into the light, Ali at once examined his wound, and gave a cry of consternation when he saw the condition of the arm, for it was red with blood, while a stream was gushing from a ragged hole close above the elbow.