Tom Willoughby's Scouts: A Story of the War in German East Africa

by Herbert Strang

Tom's first business was to examine his spoils of war. Besides a considerable quantity of maize and other foods intended for the askaris, there was a case containing coffee, condensed milk, tinned fruits, biscuits, and a few bottles of wine--articles which were very welcome additions to his private larder. Still more welcome were the boxes of ammunition. One small case held a couple of dozen metal objects whose use he did not know; but unscrewing the top of one of them he saw what he took to be combustible material of some kind, and confirmed his guess with a lighted match. These flares, he thought, might prove very useful in case of a night attack.

A commander's chief preoccupation, perhaps, is to divine the intentions of the enemy. What would the column from Bismarckburg do? Its officers had no doubt learnt within an hour or two what had happened to the eastern column, and it seemed probable that the disaster would have deranged their plans. In the course of the afternoon Tom received a message from the scout who had been stationed on the hill overlooking the enemy's halting place. The man reported that a number of the askaris had climbed the hill on different sides, and he had withdrawn to the next post northward. Tom guessed that the German commander had suspected the presence on the hill of scouts who had given him away, and had wisely determined to get rid of them. The post having been thus abandoned, the enemy's movements could not be known at the nullah until they had come within sight from the next post. That, however, was more than twenty miles away, and Tom expected to receive warning of their approach in ample time to prepare for them. He conjectured that they would make no move until they had replaced the supplies of which they had been deprived.

He was not one to sit with folded hands, idly waiting. Next day, taking advantage of his largely increased stock of ammunition, he spent a good many hours in giving his men rifle practice. Owing to the nature of the position, firing, when the attack came, was likely to be at point blank range, so that it was unnecessary to instruct the mass of the natives in the mysteries of adjusting sights. But in view of the possibility of having to fall back up the nullah, he gave special instruction in long range firing to a score of the men who had had former experience with firearms.

More than once he had wished for the companionship of a man of his own race. Mirambo was a devoted lieutenant, but consultation with him could only be carried on through Mwesa, and his range of ideas was as limited as the boy's command of English. Tom felt the lack of an equal, a man of like upbringing and education, with whom he might have had those long and intimate talks in which mind reacts on mind with mutual helpfulness. More than ever he wished it now. An advancing enemy should be harassed; but Tom dared not leave the nullah himself, and neither Mirambo nor any other native had the cool judgment and the self-control necessary in the commander of even a disciplined force, much more in one who had only half-trained negroes under his leadership. Pitted against well-drilled askaris under capable German officers, the Wahehe would be hopelessly overmatched; they would almost certainly be outflanked and cut off, and Tom could not afford to lose men. Under a white man the risks would not have been so great. But it is idle to long for the impossible, and Tom realised that the only safe course was to keep the men with him. He gave orders to his scouts to fall back upon the nullah when the enemy advanced, but slowly, and noting their progress from point to point.

It was on the third day after the little action at the bridge that his furthermost scout reported the enemy were on the move. They had marched two miles along the track from the spot on which they had encamped beside the Neu Langenburg road. There was a great host of askaris, a great host of porters, and several white men. Some of the porters were dragging a long green bottle on wheels.

A long green bottle on wheels!

Tom felt a sinking at heart. What could this be but a field gun? The hosts of askaris did not dismay him: their numbers were, no doubt, exaggerated by the natives as usual; but he recognized that his barricade of trees would be a poor defence against shell-fire. There was little time to improvise adequate protection; but he set almost the whole of his men to work at once in digging a deep trench a few yards behind the barricade.

At intervals during the rest of the day came further reports of the enemy's progress. Their advance was slow; it was clear that they could not reach the nullah before nightfall, and after their long march they would not make an immediate attack. Leaving a strong guard at the barricade, Tom went to his hut to fortify himself with sleep for what the next day might bring forth. But he found it impossible to rest. Now that the critical moment was approaching, his mind went over and over the situation. Had he left undone anything that might have been done? What would be the effect of shell-fire on his men--aye, and on himself? What were the enemy's plans? Would they, after battering down his outer defences, make a fierce charge into the nullah, relying on the defenders' demoralisation by the bombardment? Thinking over these and other questions, he felt that he had done all he could: the rest was on the knees of the gods.

Very early next morning he made a round of inspection, then issued through Mwesa his final orders. At the first sign of hostile action the men were to take up their allotted positions. He warned them that they must expect something worse than rifle bullets; but none were to leave the trenches without permission.

To give notice of the enemy's approach, he had posted scouts on the top of the sides of the nullah. But the first intimation came not from them, but from the enemy himself. About midday there was a dull boom in the south. A few seconds afterwards a shell burst with a shattering explosion on the hill face. A cry of astonishment and fear broke from some of the Wahehe; but Tom, in the centre of the trench with Mwesa at his side, calmed them by asking whether they supposed the shells would destroy the sides of the nullah. The response was an outburst of mocking laughter. It was a big noise, said the men; but the result had been only the fall of broken branches and fragments of rock. All was well.