Before leaving the village, Tom took the katikiro aside to give him final instructions. Msala was talking to the medicine-man at the time, and the latter scarcely attempted to conceal a malignant scowl as Tom approached. He moved reluctantly away, evidently curious to learn what Tom's business with the katikiro was.

"Msala," said Tom, as soon as he judged Mabruki to be out of ear-shot, "I have given you an important post, because I know that you are fearless, and because I trust you. The village, and the lives of the thousands of people in it, are in your hands. You must on no account leave your post unless you receive a direct order from me. If I want you to leave it, I shall send a messenger to you, and he will bring with him, as a proof that his message is genuine, a leaf out of my pocket-book with this mark upon it." He drew a circle, with two diameters intersecting at right-angles. "You see that? Whatever messenger comes to you from me will have a leaf like that, and I will leave this with you, so that no possible mistake can be made. Do you understand?"

"Yes," said Msala, his face aglow with the importance of his duties; "I will obey the words of Kuboko, and he shall find that I am as bold as a lion and as wise as an elephant."

"Very well then. Now I myself am going into the forest with my picked men. You may not see me for many days; but do not get down-hearted. Let us hope that when you and I meet again we shall have made our account with the enemy."

CHAPTER XVII: Treachery

Fording a Stream--Preparing a Trap--Ensnared--A Panic--Mystery--Prompt Measures--Scouting--The Arab Camp--A Burly Pikeman--Preparing to Spring--De Castro Escapes

The force made a brave show as it marched out next morning amid the cheers of the thousands of men, women, and children left behind. The katikiro stood at the north gate, proud of his office, and yet envious of the men who were advancing to meet the enemy. At one side of him stood Mwonga, at the other Mabruki the medicine-man, who had recovered something of his old authority with the influx into the village of a vast horde who had not witnessed his discomfiture by Kuboko. Some, indeed, of the Bahima had pleaded that Mabruki might be allowed to accompany them, so that they might benefit by what magical power was still left to him; but Tom had resolutely refused their request, asking them bluntly whether they had not more confidence in his strong arm than in Mabruki's basket and bell. And therefore the only face that scowled on the departing army was Mabruki's.

The van was led by the two hundred and fifty pikemen, their pike-heads polished to a silvery brilliance and flashing in the sunlight. They were followed by the musketeers, with Tom and Mbutu at their head. Then came a select band of fifty, who were to be entrusted with the throwing of the hand-grenades, and with them were a number of Bairo, laden with ammunition. Behind these came the remainder of the force--spearmen and archers, all eager, confident, burning to meet the foe; and carriers with food and cooking-utensils.

A vast rumour filled the air as the force passed on, the men chattering and laughing, some of them chanting the war-songs of their tribes, others inventing songs on the spur of the moment and repeating the words to the thousandth time to the same weird music. These songs for the most part sounded the praises of Kuboko. "Kuboko is stronger than many lions," sang the men of the plains, who knew what the strength of lions was. "Kuboko is mightier than the horn of a bull," sang the Bahima, prizing their cattle above all things. "Kuboko, the maker of fire, who poureth out the water-spout!" sang the Bairo, whose imagination had been seized by Tom's deeds during the siege. Tom was not puffed up by their ingenuous laudation. He was, rather, touched by their simple confidence, and more than ever resolute to use what power he had, whatever opportunity Providence threw in his way, for their ultimate advantage.

Between the village and the edge of the forest lay a stretch of about fifteen miles of fairly open country, dotted here and there with clumps of bush and with shade trees.