The doctor smiled grimly.
"I don't know about Uncle Jack, young man, but if you're not in it there will be no fight at all."
Pondering this enigmatical utterance, Tom left the tent by and by and strolled round the camp. Captain Lister met him and greeted him warmly, without a word as to what had brought him, and when he encountered his uncle, who was, as usual, full of activity, yet without a vestige of fussiness, that capital soldier had time to grip his hand and hope he was getting "fit".
The four Europeans were sitting beneath the flap of the tent, eating a late breakfast of roast goat and banana fritters, when Lieutenant Mumford returned with his little body of Soudanese scouts and reported himself. Tom had seen very little of him during the few days he had spent at Kisumu, and then thought he was too dandified and lackadaisical to be of much use on active service. He was therefore somewhat surprised now to hear what a business-like and competent account the lieutenant gave of his movements. He had penetrated, he said, to within two miles of the hills beyond which lay the objective of the expedition. He had met with no sign of the enemy, Arab or native, but had seen many a proof of their depredations in the ruined huts and blackened fields passed on the way. The native populations, sparse in these regions at any time, seemed now to have been either exterminated or carried into captivity. What the guide had said about the nature of the country, and the difficulty of procuring food, was perfectly true; and the scouts had only turned back when they reached the near end of the defile he had mentioned, Mumford considering it useless to spend time in traversing a perfectly open route.
"Very well," said the major. "You'd better get something to eat now, Mumford."
"There's one thing I ought to mention first. We've brought back a native with us, sir--from Visegwe's country, he said. He told us that his village had been raided by Arabs, and himself carried off as a slave and employed as a porter and general hack. His account of how he escaped is rather tall, but I can only repeat what he said. He was marching with the rest of his gang when a couple of rhinoceroses charged the column, and threw things into such confusion that he found a chance to slip away. He was making his way back home when he met us, so I thought it just as well to bring him along in case he could give us some useful information."
"Quite right, Mumford. Send the fellow here. Tom, I suppose that boy of yours is a bit of a linguist, eh? He may as well do the interpreting."
While Lieutenant Mumford was gone to fetch the native, the major took out his map and spread it out on a space cleared on the folding table.
"Yes, I see," he said; "if this native comes from the Arab quarters beyond the Rutchuru, his road homewards would lie across our line of march. He may be useful to us. A strapping fellow, Corney; look at him."
The negro, a finely proportioned young Ankoli, some twenty-five years of age, came up under a guard of Soudanese, who left him standing before the major. In answer to questions, he repeated the story given by Lieutenant Mumford, with some variations which might have been due to Mbutu's capacity for translation. He added that while hiding in the Wutaka hills, with the Kutchuru spread out before him, he had seen the Arabs cross the river and disappear among the hills to the west, retiring no doubt to the distant stronghold whence they made their raids. The man told his story frankly and ingenuously, and answered the major's questions without hesitation. As he described the atrocities committed by the Arabs, his language and gestures were expressive of intense indignation, and indicated that no vengeance could be too terrible for his oppressors.