"Now tell those men of yours to come forward one at a time and lay their rifles down on the track in front of me. Don't say another word."
The sergeant gave the order. The men, with a look of mingled curiosity and wonderment, advanced, laid down their rifles, and at Tom's command walked a few yards along the track, then halted.
"Mwesa, go and tell those natives to come past me, slowly, and then turn into the bush and wait. Tell them nothing else.... You have men at the rear?" he added to the sergeant.
"Yes."
"Who are they?"
"Askaris."
"How many?"
"Twenty."
"Then when they come up behind the negroes you will give them the same order as you gave your Germans. Stand here by me."
The negroes, all strong young men, defiled past Tom in silence, their eyes wide with anxiety and dread. He counted sixty. In their rear came the twenty askaris. One by one they laid down their rifles and passed on, looking with surprise at their officer's glowering face.