"It's enough to make any one snivel," said Challis. "What can have become of the fellow?"
"Whatever it is, we are done brown," said Royce. "It's no good riding any farther; we might tumble among a whole swarm of Tubus. And as it's getting late, we had better camp for the night, and then go back and digest our disappointment as well as we can."
At this moment Gamba gave a succession of peculiar shrill whistles.
"What's that mean?" asked Royce.
Gambaru explained that the man was whistling for his horse, thinking that Goruba had possibly left it some distance from the river and swum across, so that hoof marks might not betray him. But the signals were ineffective, and Gamba wept again.
Retreating from the bank, they formed a camp on a sheltered hillside, ate some of the food they had brought with them, and settled down for the night, arranging for the men to keep watch in turn. Nothing disturbed them, and early in the morning they started back for the fort.
On the way they caught sight of many stray Tubus making their way towards the river. These always slunk away when they saw the Englishmen, who did not think it worth while to pursue them. They already had enough prisoners, and shrank from further bloodshed.
They reached the fort just before noon. The fort itself had not been occupied during the night. John reported that the men had conceived such a horror of it that they preferred to remain in the open. The Tubus had wholly disappeared. Their failure and the flight of their leader had broken their spirit.
Some of the victorious natives had already gone back to their homes to relate how the dreaded Tubus had been defeated.
"We couldn't hope for anything better," said Royce. "The whole countryside will hear of it in a day or two; the prestige of the Tubus will be utterly shattered, and the people won't be afraid of them any longer. I rather fancy they will keep to their own side of the Yo in the future."