To what point in the nullah the cleft led, Tom had at present no knowledge. It might descend to the lake side, or wind away to some spot farther down. He thought rapidly over the courses open to him. He might make his way back through the ravine, plunge into the bush, and hurry along parallel with the nullah until he gained the entrance. Thereby he might provide against the threatened attack and perhaps take measures for a counterstroke. But one consideration told heavily against this idea. At his best speed he could hardly expect to reach the barricade before dark, and meanwhile Reinecke, if he found the secret way so easy as Haroun had apparently declared, might have led his men into the nullah, taken the people by surprise, and overcome what resistance they were able to make without their leader.
What alternative was there? If Reinecke once rejoined the askaris waiting in the defile nothing could avail to check him. It was impossible to slip past him on the narrow cleft, and organise the defence while he returned for his men. Could he be prevented from returning? Without him the German lieutenant would probably hesitate to risk a plunge into the unknown. Tom thought that Mwesa and himself should be a match for Reinecke and the Arab; but if a cry or a shot reached the ears of the men waiting above, all would end in disaster.
The only chance of success seemed to lie in following Reinecke down the cleft and lying in wait for him at some spot where he could be taken at a disadvantage. Tom hurriedly whispered his plan to Mwesa, then stepped down into the cleft and began his careful descent.
The frequent windings of the narrow gully, the patches of vegetation, the boulders that stood up here and there, rendered detection from below unlikely; but Tom moved very warily, peering round every corner, every bush and rock, listening for voices or footsteps. The lower he and the negro descended, the more cautious they were. Once or twice Tom slipped, and had to catch at a tree or a shrub to prevent himself from slithering down. No such mishaps befell the barefooted negro, and Tom wished that his soles were so hardened as to enable him to discard his boots. Step by step they crept downward. Presently they caught sight of the opposite side of the nullah, a rugged precipice looming through the mist, with a portion of the lake cut off at its base. A little farther down Tom stopped suddenly. Twenty or thirty feet below him Reinecke and the Arab, side by side, were lying on a big rock that appeared to jut out from the cliff, and were peering down. No doubt they were hidden by the rock from the sight of the people below--how far below Tom could not tell, for the camp and the lowest stretch of the cleft were invisible to him.
Mwesa, clutching his knife, looked expectantly at his master. Tom could have shot the two men where they lay; but apart from a natural repugnance to killing them unawares, he knew that the sound of shots would rise to the party above and put them on the alert. Whatever he did must be done without noise.
Drawing Mwesa back, he led him some little distance up the cleft until he came to a shallow recess, partly concealed by a patch of bush. Here they could wait until the men below reached them in their upward climb. Tom withdrew behind the bush, bidding Mwesa stand a little forward and watch: his dark body would be less likely to attract the eyes of the climbers.
It was some time before they heard slow footsteps on the cleft below them, and then ejaculations from Reinecke complaining of the steepness of the ascent. Then Mwesa reported that the German had rounded a bend; the Arab was just behind him. Tom drew the lad back behind the bush.
"Deal with Haroun," he whispered, "when I have dealt with Reinecke."
The two men mounted slowly. Tom waited until the German had come within two or three paces of him, then stepped out into the middle of the narrow path. Reinecke, a foot or two below him, looked up. His face paled beneath the bronze: he recoiled, and fumbled for his revolver. Before he could grasp it Tom sprang at him, and with one deftly aimed blow on the point of the chin hurled him against the side of the cleft. He fell like a log. At the same moment Mwesa darted past his master, and flung himself on the Arab, who had halted in consternation at the sudden onslaught. He stepped back, warded off Mwesa with his arm, and turned to escape down the cleft. Before he had taken three steps the negro had recovered himself, and plunged his knife into the Arab's back.
