All that day Tom anxiously awaited the assault. After a quiet morning, the gun opened fire, and for two hours pounded the barricade, until it was breached in many spots. When the shelling ceased Tom expected the attack to follow immediately; but minute after minute passed, and his scouts gave no sign of any movement among the enemy. Taking advantage of this inaction, Tom set some of the men to fill up the gaps in the barricade, but they had no sooner started work than the enemy's snipers, unseen among the trees, began to pick them off. It was clear that the issue of the struggle would depend on the fighting capacity of the men, and not on the strength of the defences.
For the past two days the weather had been dull but dry, and Tom found himself longing for a downpour of rain, which would flood the enemy's approaches. His anxieties were the greater through his ignorance of their numbers. Since the first attack he had seen none of them except the sappers; whether the men biding their time in the forest were scores, hundreds, or even thousands he was utterly unable to guess. If he had known the German's contempt for "cannon-fodder" he might have suspected that their numbers were not very great, for a German officer with large resources would hardly have drawn off at the first check.
Darkness closed down upon the nullah. Tom dared not leave his post, weary though he was. Lying on a heap of twigs he waited, wondering what the night would bring forth.
[CHAPTER XX--RAISING THE SIEGE]
Midnight passed: the still hours stole on; and Tom was dozing when Mwesa roused him.
"Noise dis way, sah," said the boy.
Tom sprung up. From the direction of the forest came slight sounds. The enemy were on the move. He sent to the trenches above the men detailed to hold them: the rest he ordered to their posts behind the barricade. Their movements were silent.
The sounds from without were so faint that it was clear the enemy hoped for a surprise. Presently they ceased altogether, and Tom guessed that the men had assembled in their trench and only awaited the word. At each end of the barricade he had placed an askari with flares and matches.
The silence was brief. Suddenly a whistle sounded. The air was rent with a great shout as the enemy askaris leapt from the trench and surged forward towards the barricade. Instantly Tom gave a signal; two blazing flares soared over the barricade and fell on the ground beyond, lighting up a wide space around them. Peering through a gap, Tom saw the line of black men pressing on. Some carried axes, others oblong hurdles--pontoons for throwing across the moat. Only a few seconds after the signal for the attack had been given, another whistle cut the air. From the barricade and the trenches above rifles flashed, and there were gaps in the ranks of the assailants. In the pressure of a moment like this regular volleys were impossible: each man fired as fast as he could.
In spite of their losses the enemy pushed on with scarcely a check. They had not yet fired a shot. Some crossed the moat with flying leaps and began to hack at the barricade with their axes. Others rushed over on the hurdles, and thrusting their rifles into the gaps, fired at random. The defenders here, having emptied their magazines, lunged at the foremost assailants with their bayonets, while the men in the raised trenches kept up a hot fire on the supports rushing up behind. But the stream seemed never to slacken. If a man fell back from the barricade, another took his place. A big askari forced his way through a gap, and wounded two men before he was transfixed by Mirambo's bayonet. Almost before the bayonet could be withdrawn others of the enemy came through at the same spot, and Mirambo and the men about him found themselves engaged in a fierce hand-to-hand struggle. The same thing happened at many parts of the defences, and though for every man who got through two or three had been hurled back into the moat or among their comrades, it was clear that by pressure of numbers the Wahehe must soon be overwhelmed.