All was quiet within the boma. Ferrier maintains to this day that snoring is an infirmity of civilization, for the sleepers emitted no sound. He lost no time in completing his task. First he soaked the bundles of grass thoroughly with methylated spirit, having postponed this until he reached the boma, lest evaporation should diminish the effect. Then he thrust them beneath the boma, choosing a place where it was thick and the light from the fires shone through less freely than elsewhere. Then he struck a match and applied it. Instantly there was a great flame; the dry thornbushes of the boma took fire readily. Ferrier slipped away to be out of the glare, but had gone only a few steps when he heard a soft patter of feet behind him. A moment after, the air was rent with rifle cracks and a din of shouting, from within the boma and from a distance. He turned to meet the man approaching, and saw the form of a big negro silhouetted against the glare. Ferrier was unarmed save for his clasp-knife, and he had not made up his mind what to do when a shot whistled past him: the negro had fired at him while still running. Before the man could draw a knife or turn in his tracks Ferrier threw himself upon him, trying to wrest the rifle from his hand. The two fell together; the rifle dropped to the ground; and black man and white were locked in a desperate wrestle. Ferrier felt the negro's arms about him, straining to crush him or to break his back. Oblivious of the tumult around him--the yells and shots within the boma, the shouts of the assailants, the crackle and roar of the flames--Ferrier strove to free himself from the strangling embrace, conscious that he was no match in muscle for his powerful opponent. He had almost given himself up for lost when the man's grip relaxed, and with a heavy groan he lay still. Ferrier sprang up. By the light of the blazing boma he saw the men of his party at two points of the outer hedge, some leaping over it, some slashing at it with their knives and tearing it down. None of them were firing; after the first discharge of their rifles John had ordered them to rush for the camp. Evidently the big negro had been struck down by a shot from his own friends.
Ferrier stood for a moment, marvelling at the din. Then he saw that John's men had crossed the outer hedge and were swarming towards the boma. Shouting at the top of his voice lest he should be butchered by his own party, he left the wounded man on the ground and joined them. With John at their head they were sweeping round towards the gate. The firing from within the boma had now ceased; the shouts were those of the assailants alone; and when the excited throng reached the gate, they saw in the ruddy glare the enemy streaming in frantic haste towards the river. Many an arrow was sped after them; a few of the rearmost narrowly escaped capture. Seeing that they were hopelessly routed, John shouted to his men to refrain from pursuit and retire within the boma. Then, telling off a dozen men to stand at the gate and watch against any rally of the enemy, he called to the rest to help him to check the fire. He left the part that was fiercely burning, and ordered the men to tear down a portion on each side of it, so as to make two large gaps across which the flames could not spring. The work was assisted by the absence of wind. The portion around the spot where Ferrier had kindled the fire soon burnt itself out; the remainder was saved. Within ten minutes after the first blaze the enemy were scattered in confusion, and the camp was in John's hands.
[CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH--A Coup de Main]
John's first proceeding when the conflagration had been stayed was to look for the property he had been at such pains to recover. The camp-fires gave too little light, so he got Coja to make a couple of torches. Taking one himself and giving the other to Ferrier, he hastened to the centre of the camp, where the baggage was piled. On the way he passed a confused medley of things--sleeping mats, cooking pots, bows and arrows, spears--things left or flung down by the fugitives in their hurried flight. And there, packed in the middle space, out of reach of the fires, were his boxes of ammunition and his rifles.
"We've got the lot, by Jove!" he exclaimed joyfully. "They haven't even opened one of the boxes. What extraordinary luck!"
"Couldn't be better," cried Ferrier heartily. "And you've got more than your own, too; there's a good many bows and arrows and a few spears, besides no end of baskets containing food, I suppose."
"Yes, they belong to the villagers. We'll make them a present of the bows and arrows and spears, and anything else they can find, bar the rifles. There aren't many spears; I suppose the rascals slept with them at their side, and snatched them up when they ran. Hallo! Here are two of the Sniders that Juma ran off with in his first little scheme. That makes three we've recovered."
"And proves that Juma is at the bottom of it."
"I should like to lay that fellow by the heels. But we'd better get something to eat. I'm famishing. Where's our failed B.A.?"
"Here, sir," said a voice at John's elbow. "I obeyed in all points your esteemed injunctions at closest possible proximity, and tender hearty congratulations on the success, not in mortals to command, but more, deserved, which has attended this tour de force."