“Can it be possible that all this dreadful business has lasted only four minutes?” he asked.
“Four minutes!” cried the sailor. “Why, we heard firing in this direction nearly twenty minutes ago!”
“That was the first round, when the blacks tried to frighten us into submission,” said Warden. “But, now that I come to think of it, the scrap itself cannot have occupied many seconds more than your estimate, Hume.”
“Do you mean to tell me that you five accounted for that heap of——”
He stopped and looked at Evelyn and Mrs. Hume. The latter was striving to dry her eyes while she sipped some of the wine. Poor lady! She was not cast in the heroic mold, nor had she ever pretended to be.
“There were more than five of us,” explained Warden sadly. “Eleven of Colville’s Hausas are down.”
“Some of them can only be wounded,” said Evelyn. “Let us go and attend to them.”
“Better not, Miss Dane,” interposed the sailor hastily. He had seen things in the compound which rendered it advisable for the women to remain indoors until the river crocodiles had claimed their tribute. “I will tell some of my men to look after them,” he explained, “and our surgeon will soon be here. Just now he is busy on board the launches.”
“What? Have you been engaged, too?” asked Warden.
“By Jove, we dropped in for the biggest surprise I ever heard of. Just fancy being blazed at with Nordenfeldts by niggers! Luckily for us, we came on them unawares, and two of the canoes were headed up–stream. The row that was going on here stopped them from hearing the engines, or I must candidly confess that if they had been ready for us they might have sunk the flotilla before we came within striking distance. As it was, they got in a few rounds that raked a couple of boats fore and aft, before we got busy with a Gatling. I suppose you didn’t catch the racket on account of the dust up here.”