"Parlementaires," thought Tom. "They want to negotiate? Well, I must hear what they have to say."
For a moment he thought of going out at the head of a party of his men to meet the enemy; but reflecting that he had no precise information of their number, and that their object might be to lure him from his defences, he decided to remain behind the barricade.
Presently another message came through his chain of scouts, announcing that the strangers had just passed a post about ten miles from the nullah. After some two hours and a half he learnt that they were now within five miles. Thereupon he ordered his men to take up their allotted positions behind the barricade and in the trenches, and sent Mwesa to the nearest scouting post, about two miles distant, to watch for the enemy's coming, and to run back and tell him how many they were. Mwesa was the only negro whom he could trust to form even an approximate estimate of their number.
In due time the lad came back with the report that the askaris were no more than twenty. Reassured that no attack was intended by so small a force, Tom awaited their arrival with composure.
"But they mustn't come too close," he thought, "or they'll see too much."
He scribbled in German a note on a leaf from his pocket-book--
"Mr. Willoughby presents his compliments," he wrote, "and has the honour to say that he, with ten men, will meet the recipient of this note, also with ten men, at the edge of the forest, three hundred yards from his position. Any attempt to advance across the clearing will be resisted."
"Run and give that to the commanding officer," he said to Mwesa, "and come back with his answer."
"Him say no come back," said Mwesa, looking uncomfortable.
"Not at all. He won't prevent you. Be quick."