By the time he had posted his men just within the belt of trees, where they commanded the whole space in front, he had been rejoined by all his scouts. The report of the last comers was even more alarming than that of the first. According to them, a great throng of ferocious askaris, like a swarm of wild bees, was dashing on with the speed of antelopes. Though he was aware of their habit of exaggeration, Tom was conscious of a consuming anxiety, but had self-command enough to present a calm and smiling front to the natives, in whom the least sign of wavering on his part would have started a panic. Through Mwesa he gave them the order not to fire until he whistled, resolving at the same time to cut himself a wooden whistle at the first opportunity.
The men had been posted barely twenty minutes when, through the thinner woodland on the opposite side of the clearing, Tom caught sight of a few scattered negroes in uniform. "Scouts feeling their way forward," he thought. The askaris moved rapidly, but cautiously, flitting from tree to tree in a series of short rushes. Marking one of them, Tom fired. The man instantly slipped behind a trunk; his fellows had all disappeared.
Analysing later his frame of mind at the moment of firing, Tom had to admit that his aim had been intentionally bad, and justified his action with the excuse that his object was merely to delay the enemy. At bottom, however, he was really loth to kill his man--a feeling which has, no doubt, seized many a young officer in his first fight. In after days he often debated with himself and discussed with others how far humanity is compatible with war, and the conclusion that he came to was that war must be abolished, or humanity would perish. If man must kill man, whether the agent be bullet, shell, bomb, poison gas, or any other abomination, logically there is nothing to choose between them: the vile thing is war itself. But at this moment he had no time for reflection: he acted purely from a humane instinct, not realising what war meant, ignorant of the methods in which the enemy was prepared to wage it.
His ill-aimed shot had not been without effect. The enemy had vanished, and Tom's men, in their simplicity, whooped with delight. Tom however, was under no delusion. One or more of the askaris had no doubt stolen back through the wood to report that they were in touch with the fugitives; the rest were still lurking among the trees.
As the minutes passed without further movement, Tom's anxiety increased in proportion with the natives' elation. What numbers had he to deal with? Would his little force of untrained men be swept upon and overwhelmed? He would have been spared a period of racking suspense if he could have divined the facts which he was not to know till much later. Sergeant Morgenstein and the Arabs, having escaped from the plantation, did not take the twenty-mile road to Bismarckburg, but struck southward to the highway to Neu Langenburg, a distance only half as great. On this road they met a half company of askaris marching towards Bismarckburg. The German officer in command, on learning what had happened at the plantation, tapped the telegraph wire and asked for instructions. Ordered to make a forced march and deal with the mutiny--what resistance was to be expected from a mob of undisciplined blacks?--he pushed on to the plantation, only to find it deserted. Darkness forbade instant pursuit; but at the earliest glimmer of dawn he started to follow up the very plain tracks of the absconded rebels.
It was perhaps twenty minutes after the disappearance of the enemy scouts when Mwesa detected a movement deep in the thin woodland opposite. Tom fixed his eyes intently on the spot the boy pointed out, and presently saw several forms moving forward amid the brushwood. There were signs that others were coming up behind them. They were scarcely distinguishable in the shade of the trees, and darted so quickly from cover to cover that even a crack shot could hardly have picked them off.
Tom felt that an attempt to check the advance while the enemy were still in the wood would be sheer waste of ammunition. The most of his men had not handled fire-arms for years; they had probably lost whatever skill they might once have had; the younger men had only begun their musketry course. He must at least wait for the inevitable rush across the open; then, perhaps, the negroes, unskilled though they were, might be lucky with some of their shots. If the enemy were in no great strength, the mere show of resistance might achieve his end--delay.
The askaris, finding their advance unopposed, gained confidence, were less careful in taking cover, and presently formed up in line just within the forest fringe. Suddenly a white helmet showed itself above them, a little in their rear; a word of command rang out, and the askaris, twenty strong, charged with a wild yell in double line across the open. Tom gave a shrill whistle, marked his man and fired. His shot was followed by a ragged volley from his men. This time his aim was true; one or two askaris fell to the shots of the negroes; the rest wavered, and at a second volley scurried back into the forest, losing another on the way.
Tom had not fired a second time, but had watched the forest. It was plain from movements he observed there that the German had held part of his force in reserve. The slight losses suffered in feeling for the opposition had probably reassured him as to the character of the resistance he had to meet; the next attack would be made in strength.
Ignorant of the numbers opposed to him, Tom thought it prudent not to await a second attack, and gave his men the order to retire quietly. They marched on for about half a mile, and then came to a rocky ridge flanking the track, which it commanded for a considerable distance. Here Tom determined to make a second stand.