What better place could there be than the nullah he had lately left? It was within easy marching distance, yet far enough away, for while only about fifteen miles from the plantation, it was nearly twice that distance from Bismarckburg, and in the heart of the forest. Between its steep banks a much larger body than these few hundred people might take shelter. It was near water; the forest provided food to supplement what might be removed from Reinecke's storehouses. Within this natural fortress, strengthened by such art as the negroes under guidance were capable of, they might bid defiance to any but a well-equipped force, which circumstances might not allow the Germans to organise, and which in any case it would take time to set on foot. In the interval he might attempt to get into communication with the British beyond the border.
After half an hour's cogitation Tom had made up his mind. To ward off suspicion among the servants, he ordered them to hasten preparations for the meal which Reinecke would expect on his arrival, then hurried back to the negroes' quarters, his brain busy with his plans.
It was fortunate that he had in Mwesa a quick and efficient interpreter, and in Mirambo a devoted henchman whose former rank in his own country lent him authority with the rest of the natives. Through these two, uncle and nephew, he made arrangements for the exodus with a celerity that surprised himself. And if his brother Bob had been able to transport himself on a magic carpet to this spot in Central Africa, that hard-headed man of business would no doubt have been amazed at the qualities shown in this emergency by one whom, in his elder-brotherly attitude, he was accustomed to call "the kid." The truth is, of course, that some people are happily born with the gift of organisation, though it may lie dormant, unsuspected, until occasion rouses it.
Tom's first measure was to arrange for the immediate evacuation of the women and children. Led by Mushota, and escorted by a band of the elder men, they were to leave the plantation and push on as far as possible on the way to the nullah while daylight lasted. At nightfall they would camp, and their escort would be at no loss to protect them until the dawn. Nor would they go empty-handed. Each woman, each child, would carry such household gear as would be useful, together with provisions for a meal or two.
While the women were merrily making their preparations, Tom got the men together, and set them to empty the store-sheds; to bring all the foodstuffs into the open, and divide them up into loads, under the direction of the men who were accustomed to serve as porters to and fro between Bismarckburg and the plantation. In one of the sheds, whose padlocked door he forced open, he was delighted to find the Mauser rifles which had recently been imported for the arming of the new recruits, together with a stock of small-arm ammunition. He set Mwesa to discover which of the men had had musketry instruction by the German sergeant, and arranged that these should have the rifles and a few rounds of cartridges when the packing was finished; and he warned them that if they fired without orders the rifles would be taken away and they would have to carry extra loads--a threat that was likely, he thought, to prove effectual. There were enough rifles to arm also a few of the older men, like Mirambo himself, who had had previous experience of firearms; and though their experience dated back a good many years, and the Mauser was a very different weapon from the old trade musket which they had formerly handled, he had no doubt that with a little practice they would soon outdo many of the recruits, whose instruction could not yet have been carried very far.
The half-dozen askaris looked surprised when they were ordered to lay down their arms and assist in the baling of the food; but Tom's air of assured authority imposed upon them, and they appeared to have no suspicion that he was a usurper until the women and children were ready to march out. It was not till then that Tom, feeling in his pocket for the duplicate key of the gate which Reinecke had given him, discovered that he had lost it, probably in his fall into the pit. The only other keys were in the possession of Reinecke and the principal overseer, and the latter, arrested in his attempt to escape, was locked in the prison-shed. Tom went to the shed to get this man's key, opened the door, and was amazed to find the place empty. All three Arabs and the German sergeant were gone. They had wrenched away some of the poles that formed the rear wall of the shed, and escaped unnoticed in the bustle attending the preparations for departure.
This discovery gave Tom an unpleasant, even an alarming shock. The loss of the key was a small matter; the gate could be forced; but if the men were already well on the way to give the alarm to Reinecke, as was only too likely, the whole scheme of escape was in danger of being utterly ruined. Without an instant's delay Tom hurried back, selected a dozen men whose build promised fleetness of foot, armed them with hoes and mattocks, and ran with them down to the gate, intending to burst the lock with a rifle-shot. He found, however, that the Arab, in his haste to escape, had left the key in the lock. The gate was open. Tom dispatched the natives along the road to capture the runaways. At this hour Reinecke was probably within eight or nine miles of the plantation, a distance which his bearers would take at least four hours to cover; but if the fugitives reached him, he would no doubt spring from his machila and hurry forward on foot, accompanied by his armed askaris. It seemed, then, that the evacuation of the place must be completed within three hours at the most.
Luckily the women were ready, and Tom ordered them at once to set off. It was then that the askaris became suspicious, and began to put their heads together; but Tom stamped out any spark of mutiny that might have been kindled by separating the men, and assigning to them places among the natives who were now preparing to mount their loads. Disarmed, with armed men around them, the askaris dared not disobey; and within a few minutes after the departure of the women they were marching out among the first contingent of the Wahehe, each bearing a weighty bundle upon his head. Mirambo had selected the steadiest of his fellows to form this first band, who were to follow the women, lay down their loads at the proposed camping place, and then return at once for more. Meanwhile the other three overseers had been rounded up, bound, and placed under guard: there must be no more fugitives.
While Mirambo was superintending the packing of the remainder of the stores, Tom was wrestling with another problem. Reinecke would arrive about sunset. He would find the gate locked as usual, and the silence of the plantation would not awaken suspicion, for work hours were over, and he would suppose the workers to have returned to their distant quarters, out of earshot from the central road and from the bungalow. But as soon as he reached the bungalow the fat would be in the fire. He would expect the principal overseer and the German sergeant to be awaiting him, to give in their reports. Not finding them, he would send one of the servants to fetch them. In ten minutes, or little more, all would be known. What would he do? Perhaps lead his askaris in pursuit, perhaps dispatch a runner to the nearest post on the Neu Langenburg road to bring up reinforcements. In either case the flight of the people would be harassed; they might be caught before they had reached their defensive position. Tom saw that to gain time was of prime importance.
How could he gain time? It would be possible to ambush Reinecke and his party in the woods close to the plantation. Even if they had been warned by the fugitive overseers and the sergeant, they would probably not suspect that the Englishman would attempt, with untrained natives, to trap seasoned soldiers. But an ambush would involve the necessity of firing without warning, and Tom was too raw at the game of war to adopt so cold-blooded a course.