Within the village, however, things were becoming unpleasant, nay, dangerous. The sanitary arrangements, at any time crude and imperfect, were unequal to the necessities of the case, and one or two cases of sickness had already occurred. The strain upon the fortitude of the people was proving more than it could bear. After three weeks the food-supply began to run short, and the daily rations were diminished, amid murmurings from the Bairo. A week later it was found necessary by the chief to order the slaughter of several of the much-prized cattle. Now that it had come to this pass, the Bairo were bound to suffer most, for, living as they did for the most part on fruits and grain, the stock of which was well-nigh exhausted, they were without the resources of the Bahima, and were earlier in straits for food.
Early in the fifth week of the siege Tom begged the chief to call a palaver. Barega had displayed qualities of patience and endurance which won Tom's unbounded admiration. From the beginning of the siege he seemed to have recognized that his only chance of successful resistance was to trust in the ingenuity and prudence of his blood-brother, and he had sunk his own pre-eminence without a shade of jealousy. No doubt this was in great measure due to Tom's own tactfulness. He took no steps without consulting the chief, and he had that invaluable faculty which enables a man to get his own way without the other party suspecting it. Barega, therefore, willingly called a council, and showed his readiness to listen to anything his brother had to say.
"Barega and my brothers," Tom began, "we have held out so long, and we are not going to give in." (Grunts of applause.) "But we cannot shut our eyes to the fact that we are in sore straits. Our food will last but a few days more, and then, without help, we must starve. Now, if our enemies had no firearms, Barega and I together would lead you out of the village and attack them. But we cannot cope with their weapons, and if we made the attempt it would surely fail. Is it impossible to obtain help from outside? Are there no villages within reach whose people have suffered at the hands of the Arabs, and would aid us against the common enemy? Brothers, it is for you to speak."
The katikiro at once replied that there were three villages within a radius of thirty miles which certainly had suffered by the Arabs' depredations and might possibly be able to lend assistance. One of them, however, Barega reminded the assembly, was ruled by a chief who was extremely jealous of his power, and would not be much inclined to put himself out on any such matter. Still, it could be tried. Barega then selected three of his fleetest runners, and two hours before dawn, under a moonless sky, they were sent out singly from the north gate.
When morning broke, Tom was called from his hut by furious cries in the village. Hastening out, he soon understood the cause of the uproar. Outside the stockade, just beyond arrow-range, a big Manyema was parading before the eyes of the villagers, holding a spear aloft, and on the end of it was the bleeding head of one of the three runners. Behind him marched a crowd of mocking negroes, pointing derisively to the impaled head, and shouting threats at the enraged villagers. Tom mentally registered that as one more atrocity for which the Arabs would some day have to pay, and then did his best to pacify the people.
The other two runners, as it turned out, had been lucky enough to get through the enemy's lines undetected. They both returned on the following night. One of them announced that Barega's rival had received him with scorn and insult, and that he had barely escaped with his life. The other brought news that a raiding-party of Arabs, evidently despatched by the surrounding force, had surprised and burned the neighbouring village a few days before, and that the few inhabitants who had escaped were hiding in the forest.
With this intelligence, it was impossible to disguise the fact that the outlook was gloomy in the extreme. It was hopeless to look for help from outside, and from the inside it appeared that nothing could be done. The rainy season had set in, and sickness had declared itself unmistakeably, especially among the Bairo, who had all along been less well nourished than the Bahima. They were reduced now to a few handfuls of grain daily, and as they roamed about, the ribs showing through their skin, they cast ravenous eyes at the few remaining cattle. Murmurs of "Give us food! give us food!" met the ears of Barega and his officers as they went about, and some of the more violent of the poor people had begun again to listen to the half-lunatic ravings of the medicine-man, who, since his defeat, had sulked almost unnoticed in his hut. Even some of the Bahima, talking among themselves, said that it would be better to submit to the enemy than to die of slow starvation. The katikiro, who through all the incidents of the siege had never lost his faith in Tom, informed him of these murmurs, and Tom impressed on Barega that he must still them at once. The chief immediately summoned a mass-meeting, and addressed his people in an impassioned speech. What would their fate be, he asked, if they yielded? Nine-tenths of the men would be butchered on the spot, along with all the older women and all who were too infirm to stand the strain of marching in a slave-caravan. What would become of their younger women and children? Barega pictured the line of miserable slaves, marching in chains at the mercy of their brutal captors, dropping and left to rot on the path; if they survived the march, to suffer tortures compared with which the fate of their murdered kinsfolk would be happy indeed. Let them choose, he cried, let them choose freely; as for him, he would die in his village, fighting his foe if so it might be; if not, still he would die a free man!
His burning words provoked a shout of approval from the throng, and then Tom stepped forward. A deep hush fell upon the assembly; every man there felt a strange magnetic power in the young white man who had stood by them and done them such good service.
"O Bahima and Bairo!" he cried, "brothers, all of you, do not give up hope. You have heard your brave chief; his words are the words of a lion-heart. I tell you now that I believe we shall yet win. There is a town, in a far land belonging to the Great White King, which was besieged like this village for many long days, and where the people waited and waited, hoping that at last their friends would come to their aid and drive away the hordes besieging them. Their food was gone; they were sick, aye, sick unto death; but did they give in? Know that the children of the Great White King never give in! No; they waited and fought, and some of them died, and then at last, far over the fields, they saw the spears of their friends advancing to help them, and the enemy melted away like mist in the sun, and they were saved! Let us wait also, a little longer, my brothers!"
For a moment after he had ceased the silence was unbroken. Then the katikiro sprang into the ring; his feelings could be played on like the notes of an instrument; raising his spear aloft he cried "Muzungu will save us! Kuboko will save us!" The crowd took up his cry, and Tom was touched to the quick to see their haggard faces lit up once more with the light of hope, and their wild eyes fixed on him as their expected deliverer.