Several large hooks were made out of milk-tins. A piece of rope was unravelled to form lines, and several of the men were soon sitting on the causeway, angling with portions of the vultures which Ferrier shot. In the course of an hour or two they caught several fish, large and small; but the total quantity was insignificant in comparison with what was needed to give all a full meal. They were all rather hungry when they settled down for the night, and the white men devoutly hoped that when morning dawned they would see that the enemy's force had broken up.
In this they were disappointed. Daylight showed them parties of negroes hovering on the outskirts of the wood. That their intention was to resume their old tactics of watching the fort was proved before the day was over. A long line of women was observed coming from the north, bending under heavy loads.
"Grub for them," said Ferrier. "They're short, like us: but they can draw on the village while we starve."
"I wonder if we could intercept a convoy," suggested John.
"Very risky: practically impossible. We couldn't tell when it's coming. We might have to wait a day or two, and miss it after all. Besides, we might be cut off; they're strong enough to keep us out if they get between us and the fort; and the garrison would be so much weakened that they couldn't hold out against a general attack. No: we mustn't think of it."
"Well, it looks as if we must either break out or starve. We may starve in any case. We didn't pass a single cultivated field on the way up, and if we made a dash for home we should have to depend on game and what wild fruits we could pick up. I don't know what on earth we can do, that's a fact."
Next day saw them no nearer a solution of the problem. The enemy were still in force, and the punishment they had received had not sufficed to detach the "bad men," who were easily distinguishable from the other negroes by their characteristic equipment. Juma had in fact persuaded them that the surrender of the white men was only a matter of time: they could not live without food, and while they remained in the fort to obtain food was impossible.
"Look here, Charley," said John that afternoon, "we can't stand this any longer. It's neck or nothing, and I'm for a bold course. That village up yonder is crammed with food-stuff of all kinds. They've just been harvesting. I vote we make a dash for it and seize enough to last us best part of the way home. All the fighting men are away, or nearly all. If we can only get there it'll be easy enough to capture the place and hold it as long as we like: there's a good stockade. But I don't want to hold it. We might stay there a day or two until our men are fed up, and then make tracks. Perhaps we'd have the luck to escape them; it's not likely, I admit. They would be between us and the farm: we should have to be uncommonly clever to dodge them; and as we couldn't move fast, with our men loaded, they're bound to come up with us some time or other. That would mean a fight in the open; perhaps a running fight for miles, with the odds of numbers against us. But I prefer fighting to starving; and it's Hobson's choice."
"It means a night march."
"Yes, but the men won't mind that. We haven't failed in anything so far, and success goes a long way with them."