Across the Cameroons: A Story of War and Adventure

"Before the sun rises," said Fernando, "two courses lie open to us: we must either fight our way through the enemy or commend our souls to Heaven."

"I was going to propose," said Harry, "that we gather together in a body and endeavour to charge through the enemy."

"And after that?" asked Braid.

"After that we may either find some place more suitable for defence, or else die in our tracks."

"We can die fighting," said the younger guide.

"Well, then," said Harry, "every minute counts. If we can get through we may be able to cover some miles before dawn is upon us. We must hold together, however. There will be no time to go back to look for one who is lost."

They now prepared themselves to make this last and desperate bid for freedom. They played for the highest stakes, for liberty and life. They could not advance, however, without acquainting Peter Klein of their intention, and when the man was told of what they proposed to do he set to shaking in his limbs.

Harry was in no mood to humour him. He had long since lost all patience with their uninvited guest.

"You have two minutes," said he, "in which to choose. Either you come with us, or stay here, or else you can go over to the enemy. It does not matter very much to us which you decide to do."

The man picked up his rifle. He tried to speak, and stuttered. He was incoherent from fear, though it was his own countrymen who opposed them. German and German-trained native troops were in the valley in about equal numbers.

"What am I to do?" he asked.

"Remain at my side," said Harry. "Do not fire until I tell you to. We are going to creep as near to the enemy as we can, and then charge through together."

Klein said nothing, but they heard the bolt of his rifle shake in his hand.

Then all five began to crawl down the hill, picking their way carefully over the stones, advancing as stealthily as possible.

The enemy's fire had somewhat abated. Perhaps they also-true to the traditions of the Prussian army-contemplated an assault. Instead of the continuous rattle of musketry that had lasted for so long, only an occasional shot resounded in the valley.

Inch by inch, they drew nearer to the enemy's position, and when not twenty yards from the place where a German officer was shouting hoarse, guttural words of command, Harry whispered to his followers to halt. He desired to give them time to gain their breath, that the charge might be as swift as it was sudden and unexpected.

During the next few minutes it was as if each second dragged out into eternity. At all events, the anxiety and excitement had the most amazing effect upon Peter Klein, who was a coward from the day of his birth. It drove him mad, and he became like some infuriated beast, a bull in a bull-ring or a baited bear.

Suddenly springing to his feet, before Harry had given the word of command, he discharged the magazine of his rifle in the direction of his own countrymen. Then, seizing the weapon by the muzzle, he dashed down hill, swinging it round and round his head as a man uses a club.

Harry and his three companions followed in the man's wake, firing right and left. Though it was dark, they were near enough to Klein to see what happened. The man was as terrible in his madness as he had been despicable in fear. Without a doubt, terror had overcome his senses. Giving himself up for lost, he had been able to bear the suspense no longer, and now rushed furiously, demented and panic-stricken, into what looked like certain death.

A German sergeant jumped out of the grass before him, and the butt of Klein's rifle crushed the man's skull as though it were a nut. Another man-a native-a second later was dropped to the ground, with a blow that would have felled an ox. A third rushed upon the maniac, and so tremendous was the stroke that sent him to his death that Klein's rifle broke at the small of the butt.

Still the ex-spy was undefeated. With the steel barrel in one hand and his revolver in the other, he went onward in the dark, filling the night with an infinity of savage and appalling yells.

CHAPTER XIX-War to the Knife

Ten minutes later Peter Klein stopped dead, looking about him with wild, staring eyes. The night was cold-for they were still at a great altitude-and the breath was pumping from his nostrils as it does with a horse. However, he was given little time to rest, for Harry, running forward, seized him by the arm.

"Get on!" cried the boy. "We're not out of danger yet."

On they went, racing for freedom, crossing hills and minor valleys, passing beneath trees, and sometimes knee-deep in the water of forest streams.

For a time they heard the guttural voices of the Germans behind them. At last these became inaudible in the distance. The soldiers were not able to follow on their tracks, since they had no way of knowing which route the fugitives had taken.

At last Harry deemed it safe to call a halt.

Klein, who was still running like one possessed, had to be stopped by force. He would not desist from flight, until Jim Braid had tripped him up. Harry, followed by Fernando, came upon them shortly afterwards.

"See," cried Harry, pointing to the east, "there comes the dawn! In half an hour it will be daylight."

"Do you know where we are?" asked Braid, turning to the guide.

"Yes," said the man. "We are towards the Maziri frontier. I recognize the mountains on the sky-line. There is a good place near at hand where we can hide, and where-even if we are discovered-we will be able to hold our own for many days."

"Let us go there," said Harry. "But where is your brother?"

No one answered. They peered into the faces of one another. The younger guide was missing.

Fernando, the man who had sworn an oath to kill the Black Dog, lifted his hands to his mouth and let out a long-drawn howl which was like that of a jackal, and which carried far in the stillness of the morning. It was a signal that his brother knew of old. Three times he repeated it, and each time lifted a hand to his ear, and stood listening expectant.

No answering cry came back. A death-like silence reigned over the valleys and forests and the mountain-side.

"He is lost?" asked Harry.

"He may have taken the wrong direction in the darkness. He may have been struck by a bullet. Who can tell? These things are in the hands of God."

"He may be somewhere near at hand," said Braid, hoping for the best.

Fernando shook his head.

"If Cortes is alive he is far away; otherwise he would have heard my signal. At any rate we can do no good by waiting here. We must push on; the day approaches. As I said, I know of a place where we shall be safe."

As the grey light extended from the mountain-tops to the valleys, Fernando led them to a kind of ancient fort, constructed of great stone boulders and surrounded by a deep ditch. In the parapet of this fort there were loopholes through which to fire, and in the centre, well screened from observation, was a small hut made of the branches of trees. The redoubt stood on a sharp pinnacle of rock commanding a wide stretch of country on every hand. It had doubtless been constructed centuries before, when there was a more advanced stage of civilization in the heart of Africa. Indeed, it is from this bygone civilization that the Maziris themselves trace their origin.

As the daylight increased they were able to take in their surroundings. Many miles up the valley, it was just possible to see a little village, which, Fernando assured them, was in Maziriland itself. Some distance to the west was a great forest which extended as far as the eye could reach.

Harry looked around him in amazement.

"But this place is almost impregnable," he cried. "Four resolute men could hold it against hundreds."

"Is there water here?" asked Braid, turning to the guide.

The man pointed to a small spring which bubbled up to the surface near the door of the hut.

"I will tell you the story of this place," said he. "Years ago a party of six Maziris sought refuge in this fort, which was built in the olden times, when the Ancients crossed the deserts from the east. For eight months those six men held the army of one of the Cameroon kings at bay. They had laid in a great store of food. They made the defence even stronger. Time and again they beat back the attack."

"And in the end?" asked Jim.

"In the end four of their number were killed, but the other two escaped."

"Escaped! How did they escape?"

"You will not believe me, but it is true. They escaped underground-like moles."

"Underground!" cried the two boys, echoing the man's words in their astonishment.

"Yes," said the guide. "All those months they had been digging a tunnel. The hill is composed of a very soft kind of rock; and they had brought spades and picks from Maziriland. Day and night they worked, until at last the tunnel became a mile in length, extending from the inside of the fort into the very heart of the forest."

"Where is the entrance?" asked Harry.

"It is here."

The man led the way to the hut. The floor was covered with rushes, and these he gathered together in his arms and piled in a great heap before the doorway. Underneath was a circular piece of wood, like that which is often found on the top of a well. Lifting this, Fernando pointed to a flight of steps that led down into impenetrable darkness.

"They went this way?" asked Harry.

"Two escaped by way of the tunnel, whilst a third, who was already dying, covered up the entrance with rushes. When their foes got in they found only four men-dead. And they believed that they had been held at bay during all those months by four men instead of six."

"Does your brother know of this place?"

"Yes; and if he is alive he will guess where we have gone. He will come to us by way of the tunnel. If he is dead-" And Fernando shrugged his shoulders.

During that day and the next they saw nothing of the Germans; but Fernando protested that it would not be safe to push on towards Maziriland, since the enemy was certainly in the district. Also they still hoped that Cortes would return.

During these days they were not idle. Jim Braid was left behind in charge of Peter Klein, who could not be trusted to hold his own in case of sudden attack, whilst Harry and Fernando departed into the forest by way of the tunnel.

The long journey through the subterranean passage was one of the most unpleasant experiences that Harry Urquhart ever had in his life. Not only was the place pitch dark, but water had filtered through the walls and lay here and there in pools upon the floor. These pools had grown stagnant, and the air was humid, tainted with the foulest smells.

At last, they came forth into the forest. There, for two days and one night, they collected a great store of provisions. They dared not fire their rifles, but there was no necessity to shoot. The forest abounded in ground-nuts and various kinds of fruit. Also, Fernando knew where the natives set their traps, and the two devoted their time to robbing these, until finally they had sufficient supplies to last for several days-rabbits, small hog-deer, and many kinds of birds.

They were obliged to make three journeys to the fort with all the provisions they had obtained, since it was not possible to carry a heavy load through the narrow, stifling tunnel.

On the third day they set to work cutting up the meat and drying it in the sun. Sun-dried meat is uncommonly tough, but it has this advantage-it will keep for many months.

That evening they heard a shot far away in the distance. It was followed by another, and yet a third, and towards midnight the whole valley was alive with musketry.

"What is it?" asked Harry of the guide.

The man shrugged his shoulders.

"I cannot say," said he. "Either my brother is pursued by the Germans, or a fight is taking place between them and the Black Dog-in which case I may be robbed of my revenge."

They divided the night into three watches. Peter Klein, they knew, they could not trust in any responsible position requiring strong nerves and presence of mind. They set the man to the most menial tasks-chopping wood, cooking, and repairing the ancient defences.

All night the firing in the valley continued; by daybreak it was near at hand. They could see the figures of the Germans racing across the valley, advancing in extended order or else in small groups which at that distance resembled families of mice.

That afternoon a small reconnoitring-party of the enemy ascended the hill upon which stood the fort. The defenders lay in hiding behind the parapet, determined not to show themselves, not to disclose their hiding-place, unless it was certain that the Germans intended to occupy the hill-top.

They waited till the eleventh hour. The enemy was not twenty paces from the ditch when Fernando rose to his feet, and cried out in the German language, ordering them to halt on peril of their lives.

At the same time, he raised his rifle to his shoulder and sent a bullet over their heads. As one man they turned and fled, racing towards the forest, and were lost to sight.

It was from that moment that the siege commenced. Their place of refuge became a citadel encompassed on every hand by a hostile force. The Germans gathered round them in companies, and day and night strove to induce the garrison to surrender. It was trench warfare in the heart of the African wild.

CHAPTER XX-Honour among Thieves

The Germans soon found that it was impracticable to attempt to capture the fort by a direct frontal attack in daylight. The slope of the hill was so steep that it was possible to ascend only by way of a path which was covered by the rifles of the defenders. Apparently they had no artillery at their disposal.

At first they charged up this path after the manner in which they were wont to hurl themselves upon the lines of trenches in Poland and in Flanders. They were swept down like chaff. Owing to the narrowness of the way they were obliged to advance upon the fort in single file, and as each man appeared before the loopholes he paid the price of his daring.

After the first assault they resorted to tactics more likely to succeed. They attacked twice by night. But, fortunately for the defence, the nights were fine and starry, a full moon was up, and it was possible to see the enemy long before he reached the walls of the fort.

For all that, the greatest vigilance was necessary both by day and night, to avoid being taken by surprise. One or other of the defenders was always on guard. Even Peter Klein was of some use. Though he could not be relied upon to act with courage or promptitude, his eyesight was good enough, and he took his turn at sentry by day. Moreover, he was in such abject terror of falling into the hands of his own people that Harry suspected that the German authorities at Dualla had learnt something of the Sunstone and von Hardenberg's private mission to the Cameroons.

By night, when the fort might be rushed, they thought it best not to leave their destiny in the hands of one who had failed them so constantly. The only occasion on which Klein had covered himself with credit was at a moment when fear had so possessed him that he lost all sense of danger and became for the time being a raving madman.

It would be wearisome to describe the details of the siege as it continued day by day. There is no question that the defenders would have held their own for many weeks had it not been that gradually a calamity was drawing down upon them. They were running short of ammunition. Their bandoliers were nearly empty.

The Germans kept up a constant fire upon the fort, and the garrison, in self-defence, was obliged to answer back. They calculated that, with the greatest economy, they had cartridges sufficient to last them only four days more. It was then that Klein, Harry, and the guide entered the hut and held consultation together. Jim Braid was on sentry, stationed on the parapet. The sun was setting in the west.

It was Fernando who was the first to speak.

"The situation is very plain," said he. "We can hold out until our ammunition is exhausted, and then retire by way of the tunnel, still hoping to reach the caves in advance of von Hardenberg, or we may retire to-night.

"Which do you advise?" asked Harry.

"I suggest," said the guide, "that we go at once. We shall need ammunition on our return journey to the coast. We have many miles to traverse. Every moment we delay means a further expenditure of ammunition. We have not a cartridge to spare."

"Then," said Harry, "it is settled: we leave the fort this evening."

It was then that there came a loud and sudden burst of firing from down the valley, from the direction of the forest. All three sprang to their feet.

Braid, from the parapet, called loudly, and they hastened to his side.

"Look there!" he cried.

Turning their eyes in the direction indicated, they beheld a man running as if for life towards the forest. In pursuit, some distance in his rear, came a large party of Germans, shouting so loudly that their voices were audible even at that great distance, and firing their rifles as they ran.

"Who is it?" cried Harry.

"I cannot say," said the guide. "He is too far away."

The firing continued until long after nightfall. It rolled through the forest like a wave. It was not until ten o'clock that the night was still.

The four defenders gathered at the door of the hut.

"You think it wiser to go?" said Harry

Fernando bowed his head.

"Come, then! Let each man load himself with such provisions as he can carry. We should start at once. It is necessary for us to be far away before morning."

Harry Urquhart turned and was about to enter the hut, when he was brought to an abrupt standstill. He stood motionless and gaping, unable at first to believe the evidence of his own eyes. For there, in the doorway, within the enclosure of the fort, stood the figure of a man-a man who was dressed in robes of flowing white.

"The Black Dog!" let out the guide, and brought his rifle to his shoulder.

"Peace," said the sheikh, lifting a hand. "Think before you fire."

Fernando's rifle was directed straight at the man's heart. The Arab never flinched. He stood like a statue, speaking in the slow, deliberate tones of one who is in full possession of his senses.

"If you fire," said he, "you slay one who has come to place his services at your disposal. You are surrounded by a legion of foes. Every rifle counts. I bring you aid."

Slowly Fernando lowered his rifle; then he laughed.

"We do not want your aid," said he.

"There," answered Bayram, "you are wrong."

"How so?"

"Here you are imprisoned. You must fight to the end. There can be no question of surrender."

"We do not think of surrender," said the other. "We mean to escape by the way you came. We mean to escape to-night."

The Black Dog shook his head.

"That will not be so easy," he made answer. "The Germans are receiving reinforcements; another column is advancing from the south. The bush swarms with their reconnoitring-parties and patrols. Moreover, guns are approaching up the valley, and may be here at any moment. I speak the truth. Remember, at some risk I have come here of my own accord."

He spoke slowly, as if choosing his words with care; but his English accent was singularly good.

"You have not yet told us," said Harry Urquhart, "why you have come."

"You are short of ammunition," answered the sheikh.

"How do you know that?"

"For five days I have listened to every shot."

"You have not yet explained," said Harry.

The Black Dog smiled, his white teeth showing in the midst of the blackness of his beard.

"I come with a proposal," said he, "under a flag of truce."

"You have nothing to fear," cut in Fernando. "You speak of a truce. We are men of honour."

"Very well, then," said the sheikh, "my proposal-or rather the proposal of him who sent me-is that your party and mine agree to come to terms. You have run out of ammunition; we can supply you. Boxes of ammunition can be conveyed without difficulty through the tunnel. Moreover, in order to cover your retreat, I swear by Allah that I will lead the Germans on a false scent across the mountains to the east."

"And in exchange for these services?" asked Harry.

The Black Dog paused, looking hard at Fernando.

"In exchange for these services," he repeated, "you are to desist from the pursuit, to allow my employer and myself to pass unmolested in Maziriland."

At this base suggestion, a feeling of such powerful indignation arose in Harry Urquhart that for some moments he could not find his voice. When he spoke at last, his voice trembled with passion.

"You can go back to Captain von Hardenberg," said he, "and you can tell him from me that he has often enough proved himself a rascal, but that I never thought that he would sink to such perfidy as to offer us ammunition to be used against his own countrymen in exchange for his own safety. As for you, it is only because you came here of your own free will that you are allowed to go away in safety. You took us evidently both for cowards and fools. You know now, perhaps, that we are neither one nor the other. But there is a limit to our patience, and I advise you to leave by the way you came as quickly as you can."

The Black Dog drew himself up to his full height, folded his arms, and fixed upon Harry Urquhart his cruel bloodshot eyes.

"These are high words," said he, "to one who has been the master of a thousand slaves. You have asked for war to the knife, and you shall have it. It is apparent from the way in which you speak that you know little or nothing of the man with whom you have to deal. You shall see. I shall prove to you that I am not one who uses empty words."

At that he turned sharply on his heel, entered the hut, and was gone.

CHAPTER XXI-The Last Cartridge

During the next four days the siege continued, and though their enemies continued to increase in numbers, the Germans were fortunately still without artillery, which would have battered the old fort to dust and ashes in the space of half an hour.

On each occasion when the Germans ventured to assault they were driven back with considerable loss. Indeed, their dead lay so thick upon the path upon the hill-side that those who followed after mounted on the bodies of those who had gone before.

On one occasion a company of native troops actually gained the parapet of the fort. It was a dark night, and they had crept up the hill-side unobserved. With a savage yell, and as one man, they hurled themselves upon the ramparts.

The majority were thrown back in disorder under a brisk fire from the defence, but some half-dozen leapt the ditch and clambered over the wall. Thereupon a brief hand-to-hand encounter ensued. It was an affair of seconds, of fierce cries and groans and savage oaths, and in the end the enclosure of the fort was free of the enemy-except for six motionless forms that lay silent on the ground.

Days passed, and still the defence held out. Indeed, they had actually put off their retreat until too late, for one night they were brought face to face with the unexpected fact that the Germans had discovered the entrance to the tunnel. Fernando, who had passed almost to the mouth of the tunnel, which lay in the midst of the bush, returned to the fort with the news that a large party of German regular soldiers was guarding their only line of retreat. Fernando had little doubt that the Black Dog had found some means by which to betray them.

The Germans apparently hesitated to advance through the tunnel itself, since they were still in ignorance of the strength of the little garrison; and in any case the narrowness and exceeding darkness of the passage would make an advance an extremely costly affair, whereas ultimate success was by no means assured. They could no longer be blind to the fact that those in the fort were running short of ammunition, and they could afford to play a waiting game.

The situation of Harry Urquhart and his companions was not of the pleasantest; indeed, they could no longer hope. Even Fernando, who had so often proved himself a man of iron, could see no chance of their deliverance.

As a great storm drives up upon the wind, so this tragedy drew to a close. Every round of ammunition-fired in self-defence-every mouthful of food that was eaten, brought it a step nearer the end. They were surrounded on every hand. Great numbers of the enemy had come from the south; both German and native troops were in the district in battalions, with transport and ammunition columns and machine-guns.