Several days passed away, most wearisomely for the two thousand people shut up within the stockade. While in time of peace, with men constantly away on hunting expeditions and women working in the fields, the village was never offensively over-populated, yet now that all the people were necessarily at home, with more than the usual number of cattle, Tom feared that it would before long be a hot-bed of fever. The people, he had found, were always accustomed to allow calves and other young animals to sleep in their own huts along with their families, but it was quite unusual, even for them, to be cooped up constantly with full-grown beasts. He did what he could to make the conditions as little unfavourable to health as possible; but not much was in his power, and he fretted at his impotence.
The besiegers had clearly abandoned all ideas of an assault in force, but every now and then a bullet or a slug would whistle over the stockade, and more than one man was killed. Tom got the chief at length to forbid any of the people to show themselves, and, accustomed as they were to a free and open life, they were greatly irritated by the restriction. Seeing that something must be done to keep them in good-humour, Tom took advantage of their love of novelty and their amazing fondness for drill to instruct them for an hour or two every day in simple movements and formations, finding that they were quite content to continue drilling on their own account for hours at a stretch.
As time went on, the besiegers were amazed at the unconcern with which the stoppage of the water-supply had been received in the village, and came to the conclusion that the people must have been drawing on the stagnant and dirty water in the ditch. One morning, then, Tom, who never relaxed his vigilance, saw a body of men approaching under cover of a light palisade lined with skins of Hima oxen, which effectually protected them from the spears and arrows of the villagers. He was not long left in doubt about the object they had in view. They came right up to the ditch, and began to cut a channel where the ground sloped down to the east, so as to drain off the water.
Tom was in no anxiety about the loss of water, but he objected to being "done", as he put it to himself, and yet, in default of firearms, saw no means of preventing the enemy from effecting their purpose. Fortunately a tremendous downpour of rain, forerunner of the approaching rainy season, drove the Arabs away for that time, and Tom at once set his wits to work to defeat their scheme should they return. Thinking of one thing after another, all at once he remembered, in an old illustrated edition of Caesar he had used in a lower form at school, some engravings of the torments used by the Romans in their siege operations. There was the catapult--ah! and the balista; that was the very thing. Could he manage to rig up a balista before the ditch was effectually drained? It was worth trying.
"Good heavens! what it is to be without pencil and paper!" he groaned. But he managed with a spear-head to scratch on a stone a rough diagram of the machine, as nearly as he remembered it, and then immediately set to work to construct a model.
There was plenty of wood in the village, and it took very little time to hammer together the square framework, and to chisel out the grooved beam on which the missile was to run. While this was being done he set some of the Bairo to twist two many-stranded ropes, and the native smiths to forge an iron handle for his winch. When this was fixed in its place at the bottom of the grooved plank, and the ropes securely fastened at each side of the frame, he placed one of the fireballs in front of the cross rope on the plank, sloped this downwards at an angle of forty-five degrees, and drew the rope back by means of the winch until it was stretched to its utmost tension and almost as tight as a steel spring. Then he released his hold of the handle, it flew round, the spring was suddenly relaxed, and the ball shot along the groove and over the stockade, falling some ten yards beyond.
"I'll have a welcome ready for the Arabs if they return," he thought, delighted at the success of his experiment.
Some three hours after the downpour had ceased, the Arabs came back in stronger force, again bearing their palisades. Tom allowed them to arrive within five yards of the trench, and then let fly a piece of rock from his balista. A tremendous cheer arose from the crowd of wondering negroes as the missile sped with sure aim to the very middle of the palisade, with such force that it tore a hole through skin and wicker-work, and struck a man behind.
The Arabs were startled, as they might well be, and halted. Before they had made up their minds what to do, another missile struck the palisade, and ricochetted across it, inflicting a blow on one of the Arabs that would have killed him if its force had not been partly broken. Another stone, and another, and then the enemy hesitated no longer; they dropped their palisade, flung down their tools, and bolted for their lives. Mocking jeers and exultant laughter followed them, and then a shower of arrows, and four or five of them dropped. Tom ordered his men to cease shooting, and allowed the wounded to be carried off by their friends.
That was the last attempt the enemy made to take the offensive. They had clearly recognized by this time that they had a more formidable antagonist to deal with than the average native of Central Africa. Tom, indeed, had freely exposed himself to their marksmen throughout the operations, and had had more than one narrow escape, as well as the one slight wound in the arm, which gave him no concern. They could scarcely have failed to perceive that they had to reckon with a European of determination and resource, and from that time on they contented themselves with a strict investment. They rounded-up what cattle they could lay their hands on, and, having the banana and other plantations of the villagers to draw upon, they lived luxuriously without consuming the provisions they had themselves brought. They could thus afford to play a waiting game.