The rafts passed slowly along, hailed with derisive yells from the few men left in the fort, and by a shower of arrows, which flew harmlessly over the breastworks, the men having all lain down as before. Then suddenly they ceased to move; but in a few moments started ponderously in the reverse direction. John and Ferrier had exchanged places with their two steersmen, and while they poled on the bottom in the manner of punters, Coja and Said Mohammed thrust their poles into the water at an angle which would bring the rafts round to the western end of the island. It was exceedingly hard work to force the heavy vessels against the current, slight though that was; but they did move slowly, away from the gorge, and that was enough for the defenders of the fort. Alarmed at the prospect of having to repel an assault from the wasungu, they shouted vociferously to their fellows on the shore to return and help them.
"It's working!" cried John in delight. "I only wish we could see round the island. We shall have to guess when it's time to be off."
But there was little chance of their being left in ignorance of the enemy's movements. The din was tremendous, far and near. Soon the uproar within the fort increased, and men were seen swarming on to the edges of the western wall, some scrambling over and running down the slope to meet the expected attack. The situation of the rafts was too close to be pleasant to their occupants. Arrows flew over and between them, some sticking in the meshes of the breastwork. The men flat on the decks of the rafts were out of harm's way; but the two white men and their assistants were partly exposed to the flying missiles, since they could not manage the clumsy rafts unless they stood nearly upright. For some minutes they cruised along the shore, as if seeking a convenient landing-place, until they were screened from the enemy by the fringe of trees. At last, having allowed sufficient time for the greater part of the enemy's force to regain the fort, or at least the causeway, John and Ferrier again changed places with Said Mohammed and Coja, and began to pole vigorously in the opposite direction. Being hidden by the trees, the rafts, helped by the current, had gained some speed before the change of direction was perceived. Even then the meaning of it did not at once strike the enemy. Those who had come down to the shore ran back to the fort; those within manned the southern and eastern parts of the wall, anticipating an assault at the spot where it had been partially demolished. But the rafts were increasing their distance from the island; they were also increasing their speed; and as they were now heading straight for the mouth of the gorge Juma at last recognized how he had been duped.
The voyagers were now in full view of the causeway. It was covered with men returning at a run to the fort. But Juma, the moment he saw his mistake, hastened to the gate and shouted to the men to right-about and make for the gorge. The causeway was too long for his words to be heard distinctly at the shore end, and there was a minute's confusion among the negroes before they grasped what was intended--a precious minute to the voyagers, for at the end of it the rafts were swept into the full current. When the men on the causeway, yelling with rage, at last set off to run back to the shore, John saw with a leaping heart that they were too late. A few of the enemy who had not yet reached the causeway when the retirement was countermanded, rushed along the shore and came level with the rafts as these began the descent of the rapids. But they had to run uphill: the speed of the current was at least fifteen miles an hour; before they could gain the summit of the bluff the rafts would be a mile or more downstream.
As John's raft was swept along in the wake of Ferrier's, he wondered whether the rafts, when they reached the end of the rapids, would be in splinters, and the men battered corpses. When he had shot the upper rapids with Bill, the darkness had concealed the full extent of his peril; but now in broad daylight it was brought alarmingly home to him. Ferrier's raft was swinging before him, and John heard his shouts as he instructed Coja how to move his pole for steering. John stuck to his post, almost at his wit's end, but trying desperately to follow in Ferrier's wake, and shouting instructions to Said Mohammed, who steered accordingly.
All at once he saw with terror a large rock almost in midstream, over which the water swirled and dashed with clouds of spray. He felt that nothing could avert disaster. Ferrier was safely past; John, grasping his pole, cried to the Bengali to steer to the right. The rock seemed to approach him with terrible speed; in a moment the raft would surely be dashed against it and shivered to splinters. But the force of the current, and a timely thrust of the pole--how he made it in time John could never understand--carried the raft clear of the barrier. John's shove was indeed more vigorous than was necessary, for it swung the stern of the raft partly across the current, and caused it to scrape the edge of the rock, with a jar that sent John and the Indian headlong among the men who lay on the deck. There was a howl of dismay, and John sprang up, expecting to find himself whirling to destruction. But to his unspeakable relief he saw that the perilous voyage was over. The raft had shot clear of the gorge, and was floating with almost oily smoothness on the river below the escarpment.
[CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIFTH--The Fight in the Swamp]
"By George!" cried John, breathless, as he poled his raft up to Ferrier's, "I don't think I could have faced it if I had known what to expect."
"You did famously," said Ferrier, laughing. "I was afraid you'd come a cropper on that rock. How are your men? Mine are positively sea-sick."
"I didn't give them a thought. They'll be all right now, at any rate. Coja stuck to his job gamely, and so did Said Mohammed. We'll have to do something for them when we get home."