In the grip of the Mullah: A tale of adventure in Somaliland

Would he be seen? Was it possible that by lying flat there upon the ground he could have escaped the attention of the Somali warrior? And if not, then how was he to act?

Rapidly did Jim allow the thoughts to flash across his mind, and then, before an answer could come to him, indeed long before he could collect his scattered wits, the man suddenly caught sight of him, and, raising himself erect, prepared to shout an alarm. There was no time for hesitation, for had a sound escaped the lips of the sentry, flight for the prisoner, for Jim, and for John Margetson, would have been out of the question; their fate would have been hopelessly sealed. And therefore, prompted by the danger, and scarcely realizing how, Jim sprang upon the man, and, grasping him by the throat with one hand, plunged his weapon into his chest. Twice in succession did he deliver the blow, and then, still clutching his opponent, he fell with him to the ground, and lay there, overcome by his feelings and by the narrowness of his escape.

"If the second man has heard the struggle, we are done for," gasped Jim. "But perhaps he was on the farther side of the Mullah's house, and if so, he may be unaware of the fate which has befallen his comrade. But supposing he notices his absence and comes to find him?"

The thought set him trembling, for he was thoroughly unhinged by the events of the last few moments. As he reflected upon the matter, however, and realized how much depended upon his coolness and decision, resolution came to him at once, and straightway rising to his feet, he tumbled the body of the dead warrior on one side, and took possession of his blanket. Then casting its folds about him, resting the man's spear jauntily upon his shoulder, and carrying the sword in one hand, he began to saunter round the dwelling. A few paces brought him to the front, where he caught sight of the second man walking slowly upon his beat, and approaching him from the farther side. And now was the time when Jim's courage was tested to the utmost. Had he shown any fear, or had he turned about in the foolish endeavour to escape the attention of the sentry, all his plans would have been upset. The impulse was there to make him cast his blanket to the ground and fly for his life; he felt the longing to get away from the place, to free himself from the danger, and then, putting the temptation aside, he boldly stepped onwards, and, arriving opposite the door, paused to look sleepily about him.

"The night is dark, comrade, and it is lonely work tramping hither and thither," said the tall warrior, coming to a halt some feet away from him. "This watching is a weary trial, and my heart sickens at it. Rather would I be abroad with my brothers in search of the runaways, or, better, galloping upon my horse against the zareba which the insolent invader has erected on the fringe of the desert. It maddens me to know that our warriors are fighting there, and that at this moment they are rushing to the attack with victory before them. And then, what loot! The man who came hither from the farther side of the Hoad, and who was once a follower of the infidel, has told us of the camels and horses that accompanied the expedition, and of the rifles and ammunition. My mouth waters at the thought that one of these guns might fall into my hands, for with it I feel that I alone could beat back these British troops who are to advance against us. But an evil fate has placed me here to keep watch when there is no need for it. In these peaceful times, and when no danger is to be feared, the old women of the village could carry out the duties as well, and better than I. However – Hark! Listen to that! You hear the faint and distant sound of firing which reaches us upon the still night air. Did I not say that our comrades were even now advancing to the attack?"

As he spoke, Jim stood still, looking at him, and puzzling his brains to know how to act. That the man was addressing him he fully realized, but whether asking a question or merely making a few commonplace remarks, he could not guess, as he did not understand the language. To have attempted to respond would have been sheer madness, and yet what was he to do? Happily for him, a gust of wind swept along the village street at this instant, and, falling upon the watch-fires, sent a burst of smoke and embers whirling in his direction. A second later a fit of coughing took hold of him, and leaning upon his spear, he struggled with it till the tears were forced to his eyes. Then, as if that had been sufficient answer, he yawned loudly, and began to trudge the beat again, till the hut hid him from the sentry. No sooner was he out of sight than he ran to the other side, and, throwing himself upon the ground, crept to the end of the wall and looked out across the open space which separated him from the Mullah's residence. There was the warrior who had just addressed him, still standing in a listening attitude; but whether he was surprised at his comrade's action or not, it was impossible to state. However, that his suspicions had not been aroused was quickly evident, for, coughing and spluttering, as a second gust swept the smoke in his direction, he, too, moved away, and had soon disappeared from sight.

"Now is my opportunity," thought Jim, "and I shall never have another like it. Whilst he is behind the Mullah's house I must make a rush for the prison, and, by George, I'll do it!"

Darting round the angle of the wall, he undid the fastenings of the door and slipped into the hut. He had just time to pull the door to when the sentry came into sight again. But nothing had disturbed him, that was apparent, for he continued his leisurely walk without a pause and without a glance in the direction of his comrade.

"Father! Father! Where are you? I'm here, your son, Jim, come to help you," whispered our hero, repeating almost the same words as he had used when making the acquaintance of John Margetson.

There was a movement at the end of the hut, and he could hear someone stir, but for more than a minute there was no other sound. Then a voice broke the stillness, and a question was asked in tones with which Jim was familiar.

"Who is that? Did someone say 'Jim?' My boy whom I left away in old England?"

"Hush! Yes, I am here. Don't make a sound for your life, father! I shall come close up to you."

Creeping across the hard-beaten floor, Jim groped his way through the darkness, and very soon found himself beside the prisoner. Their hands met in a firm and loving clasp, while each kissed the other affectionately upon the cheek.

"My boy! My dear, dear lad!" was all that Colonel Hubbard could say for some minutes. "Who could have thought it possible? Who would have dreamt that such a thing could have occurred? It seems incredible, and I cannot believe that it is true. But – yes, I am pressing your hand, and I know by your voice that it is really you. Thank God that you have come!"

"I'm here right enough," whispered Jim, feeling already as though a load had been removed from his mind. "But, now about escaping. I am in disguise, and have come here from the store-hut of the Mullah, which is close at hand. There John Margetson and I have been hiding, and it is to that spot that I intend to take you now."

"John Margetson! I know him well, for we met on more than one occasion. How comes it that you have made his acquaintance, my lad? Are you, then, a prisoner, too?"

"No, father, but I found my way to his hut, thinking that you were there, and that the Mullah possessed only one white slave. It was a bitter disappointment, but this makes up for it all. Now I hope to carry both of you away with me to our zareba, which lies away on the fringe of the desert."

"Rescue us both! Zareba! I don't understand; I am bewildered!" exclaimed Colonel Hubbard, still pressing his son's hand. "But you must tell me all about it later on; for the present, let me know what I am to do, for I am completely in your hands. What is this store-house? And why should we retire to it?"

Placing his lips close to his father's ear, Jim hurriedly whispered an account of his recent doings, and told him how it was that the store-house had been pressed into their service.

"And now, father," he continued, "it only remains for us to escape from this without observation, and reach John Margetson. If we are only successful in that, we have arms and ammunition there which will enable us to protect ourselves if necessary, and make a good fight for our lives; and, in addition, I have just arranged a ruse which should send these Somalis off to pursue us in the wrong direction. If they fall into the trap, we shall say good-bye to this village, and make our way to the zareba. Are you ready?"

"Ready, ay, and willing."

CHAPTER XVII

A DASH FOR LIBERTY

For some little while Jim and his father sat close beside one another with heads touching, conversing in whispered tones, for it was necessary that the prisoner should be instructed precisely how to act when they were outside the hut.

"You must tell me what I am to do clearly and concisely, my boy, for I am entirely in your hands," whispered the colonel. "It seems strange that I, who have always prided myself upon my resourcefulness, and who have always been the leader when you and I have been together, should give place to you. But, then, you see, you have all the strings in your fingers, and know exactly which one to pull, and when to let go your hold. Indeed, so far as I have been able to gather in these few seconds, you have shown yourself to possess a master's mind. But come, let us be going, for I dread that at any moment an alarm may be given, and then we can scarcely hope to escape."

"You understand, then, father, that you follow me closely out of the hut, and slip to the back of it. I shall wrap the blanket about my shoulders and march round and round, to put the other sentry at ease. Then we shall disappear into the darkness, and I shall lead the way to our rendezvous. It will not be long before my absence will be noticed. Then, no doubt, the Somali sentry will discover the body of his comrade and your flight. But they can kick up as much row as they like, for we shall be in hiding, and even if we were discovered, we have sufficient guns with us to make a tough fight of it."

"Depend upon it, we will," was the colonel's hearty response. "Put a weapon into my hand, and I will cause them to regret the day when they first made me captive. This Mullah and his followers shall find that their slave has strength for fighting, as well as for chopping wood and drawing water."

"That reminds me, father. Here is the sentry's sword. Take it, for you may perhaps require something. I have the spear and my revolver."

Having settled their arrangements, the two rose to their feet, and silently crept to the door. Then Jim gently pushed it open a few inches, and, thrusting his head out at the bottom, looked in the direction of the Mullah's house. Striding stalwartly out of the firelight, as he had done so often before, came the athletic watchman, his spear swinging easily over his shoulder, and his head held well in the air. That he was unsuspicious of the events which had happened so close at hand was evident, for as he walked he hummed a dismal native air in the sonorous tones common to these people, while his thoughts were undoubtedly far away. Most likely he was still thinking of his comrades who were attacking the infidel zareba, for he paused every now and again to listen, and stopped his song, only to be disappointed, however, and take to his lonely beat again with an impatient stamp of his foot.

Now was the time for the fugitives, for the Mullah's hut suddenly cut off the warrior's figure. The next instant Jim pushed the door open quietly, and stepping out, stood there while his father emerged. Then, as the colonel darted round the hut, Jim placed the blanket about his shoulders, and, walking some distance to the left, waited for the appearance of the sentry again. The instant he caught sight of him he began to saunter forward, and yawned deeply again, as though he had only just awakened from a sleep in which he had indulged on the farther side of the building.

Three times in succession did Jim make the complete circle, slouching round as though the effort were too much for him. Then, as he came opposite his father again, he tossed the blanket to one side, and, catching him by the arm, drew him away towards the village.

"Now for the store-hut," he said in an exultant whisper, feeling as though all their difficulties were ended. "Come this way along the dark side of the street, and when we halt, lie down in the shadow of the wall, for it will be as well to see that we are not followed. After that, all we have to do is to slip across the street, open the door, and enter."

"As simple as A, B, C, old boy. Lead the way, Jim, and you can rely upon my following your orders. Now, on you go!"

Pressing forward, Jim quickly made his way along the darkest side of the village street, and, ere many minutes had passed, had reached a spot which was exactly opposite to the store-hut. And here, in accordance with the directions which he had already given, he threw himself flat upon the ground.

"Good!" he whispered, when some little time had passed without a sound having disturbed the silence. "No one suspects us, so we may make ready to cross the street."

"Hu-s-s-sh! Keep your eyes open," came his father's voice at that moment in warning tones, while his hand gripped Jim by the arm, and steadily, and with every caution, pushed it in a direction which pointed to a spot across the street and slightly to the left. Instantly Jim's eyes turned to the place, and peering into the darkness, he quickly became aware of the fact that a stealthy figure was moving there.

"Was it the sentry who had suddenly discovered the absence of his comrade and the flight of the prisoner, or was it some other native of the village, whose suspicions had been aroused in some unforeseen manner?" Jim asked himself the question as he lay there, but for the moment could find no answer, for the stranger's figure was hidden almost completely, while his features were entirely invisible. Creeping along in the shadow of the farther wall, he soon reached a point which was exactly opposite to the fugitives, and separated only from them by a matter of a few yards. Then he crept slowly into the middle of the sun-dried road, and turning, faced the store-hut, bending his head forward as if he wished to inspect it closely. Fortunately for Jim and his father, the man had chosen a site to which a few stray rays of the watch-fire contrived to penetrate, and this light falling upon his face, revealed the fact that he was not the sentry, but the native who, when Jim's dagger was found, had suggested that the white prisoner and his rescuer had taken refuge in the store-hut. Evidently, in spite of the Mullah's derision, he had come at length to investigate the matter for himself. With a start of surprise our hero recognized him.

"Our game is up," he whispered; "that is the man who declared to his companions that we must be hiding in the village. And now he has come to set the question at rest, and so that he should not incur the ridicule of his comrades, has selected this late hour in which to put in an appearance. What can we do?"

"Do?" murmured the colonel. "We must manage to silence the fellow, or the whole village will be upon us. But I confess that it is almost an impossibility, for he is bound to discover us before we can get within reach of him. In that case, we must effectually silence him and then escape, for otherwise he would set his comrade upon us. Hush! he is looking in this direction."

As he spoke the native turned round slowly, peering into the darkness in all directions, and, as his eyes fell upon the shadow in which they were lurking, he started backwards. Then, as if uncertain of his powers of vision, he crept a few paces closer, and, shading his eyes with both hands, as though they would help him to penetrate the darkness, stared suspiciously at the two figures crouching there. A second later he had given vent to a shout, and, turning upon his heel, fled down the street, making the air ring with his calls.

Jim was utterly bewildered at the turn which events had taken, but Colonel Hubbard was a man who had faced danger in many forms, and whose wits had been sharpened upon many a field of battle. Realizing at once that this man would not only arouse his comrades, but would lead them in the pursuit, he, too, was upon his feet and dashing along between the houses before an instant had passed. Fear seemed to lend fleetness to his feet, for though the native spy sped onward at a rapid pace, he could not outdistance his pursuer. Indeed, the colonel seemed to come up with him by leaps and bounds, and then with one gigantic spring to land upon his shoulders. What followed Jim could not make out, but when Colonel Hubbard returned he knew that they were safe. The man whom he had followed had paid for his persistence with his life.

Meanwhile Jim had not been idle. Grasping the fact that the store-house could not longer afford a safe shelter, he had at once darted across the street and hurled the door open. Then, as a figure appeared to bar his progress, and he heard the sharp click of a gun-lock, he called a loud warning to John Margetson, and leapt hurriedly aside. Well was it for him that he had the presence of mind to do so, for, suddenly aroused from the slumber into which he had fallen, Margetson had seized one of the Mullah's weapons which lay close to his hand, and, hearing the door burst open and the commotion outside, had discharged the contents into the darkness.

"Steady, old man!" shouted our hero; "it's Jim, and I've come to tell you that we must make a bolt for it. Out you come at once!"

To say that John Margetson was surprised at the sudden turn which events had taken was to express the situation mildly. For half an hour after Jim's departure he had remained in the store-hut, looking out through the aperture between the roof and the wall; but, wearied of seeing nothing, and having by now no small amount of confidence in the young fellow who had so miraculously come to rescue him, he had sat down upon a bag of dates, just to rest for a few moments. Then the heavy atmosphere within the hut – the aroma of dried dates and the store of wine – had overcome him, and little by little his eyelids had drooped till he was fast asleep. Roused by the alarm and by the opening of the door, he had started to his feet, and, rushing at once to the conclusion that the natives had discovered his lair, he immediately opened fire, without thought of the harm he might have done to his young companion.

"What, you!" he exclaimed in bewilderment, appearing at the door with a smoking weapon in his hand. "Have I hurt you? Good heavens! Don't say that my bullet wounded you!"

"There's nothing wrong with me; but I'm in a desperate hurry!" cried Jim again. "Bring your gun, and come along quickly, for we haven't a moment to lose."

"But the prisoner, your father?"

"He's here. I've managed to get him safely out of his cell, and now we must fly for our lives. Ah – "

At that moment Jim became aware of the fact that a tall figure was rushing down upon them from the direction of the Mullah's house, and instantly realized that it must be the sentry who for a short period of time had claimed him as a comrade that evening. Already the man was within a few paces of him, and, with lowered spear-point, and shield held well forward so as to protect his body, came headlong towards them.

"Look out!" shouted John Margetson.

But Jim needed no warning, for, hazardous though the position was, he had never for one moment allowed his coolness to desert him. Without moving, therefore, from the spot upon which he stood, he turned slightly, and whipping the revolver from his waistcloth, levelled it at the advancing sentry. Click! Back went the lock as he gave the first pressure upon the trigger. Snap! The hammer fell; but there was no explosion, no bullet flew from the muzzle, for by an evil chance a splash of the river had damped the cap.

Undaunted, however, Jim gave vent to an exclamation of annoyance, and then, without lowering his arm, jerked at the trigger again. Bang! This time the hammer had fallen upon an undamaged cartridge. Jim heard the bullet strike the man's breast, and then, ere the flash of the powder had died down, he saw him suddenly plunge forward, with arms thrown out before him, while spear and shield were cast high into the air. A second later, with a clatter which could be heard all over the village, the muscular figure of the unfortunate sentry came crashing to the ground, where it lay motionless.

And now the Mullah's village, which a moment before had been peacefully slumbering, was suddenly plunged into a state of wildest turmoil. A very pandemonium seemed to have broken loose, for in all directions doors were flung wide open with a series of resounding bangs, while loud voices rent the silence of the night. Then, just as had happened on a previous evening, a tall figure suddenly appeared beside the flagstaff which stood upon the roof of the central dwelling, and the voice of the Mullah rang out clearly, drowning every other sound.

"Catch them!" he shouted. "After them, every one of you! For if these impudent dogs escape this time we shall be for ever disgraced. Follow them, I say! Pick up their tracks, and when you have done so, I myself will lead you."

"Come down, then, and show us the way now!" called out one of the few men who had been left in the village. "We can see no sign of them, though here, in front of the store-hut, are the bodies of two of our comrades."

"A third is here!" shrieked another at this moment, happening to stumble upon the sentry who lay behind the prisoner's hut. "It is Abdul Hamid, who kept watch over our white slave. See," he continued, appearing a moment later, dragging the body towards the watch-fire, "he is dead. Allah has taken him, and the thrust of a sword has sent him to his end. Where are these infidels? Lead us, you who are our ruler, and show us that you have those powers of which you boast."

That the incident which had so suddenly and unexpectedly aroused the village had angered the warriors there was little doubt, for they now came crowding round the Mullah's residence, and forgetting the humble manner in which they were apt to address him, demanded hotly that he should do something in the matter.

"It is a disgrace to our manhood!" cried one of them bitterly. "If these men, whoever they may prove to be, escape us, the tribes who live within touch of our camp will jeer and point the finger of disdain at us, and will speak of us as women, fit only to toil in household work, and handle the staff with which our corn is crushed, instead of shield and spear. Up, then, and lead us in the pursuit!"

That the indignant words had their due effect upon the Mullah was evident, for scarcely had the speaker ended the sentence when the door of the central hut flew open with a crash, and the leader sprang into the firelight, brandishing a sword above his head.

"Ay!" he shouted. "Women we should be, and worse! Dogs, indeed, to let these men get safely away. You have called upon me to show you how to act, and, therefore, stand still now and listen. These are the facts, as I see them. Our brothers are abroad between this and the desert, and it would be a clever fugitive who could contrive to slip between their ranks, even upon a dark night such as this is. It is clear, therefore, that these infidels have turned their faces in another direction. To the river, then! Run down some of you, and see whether a trace of their flight cannot be discovered."

At his order half a dozen of the men who surrounded him turned quickly, and rushing to the watch-fire, each picked up a smouldering brand, and ran off towards the river. By the time they had reached the banks the impact of the air upon the glowing ends of the wood had fanned them into flames, and converted them into excellent torches. Scattering with these in their hands, they proceeded to search every foot of the neighbourhood, and ere long came upon signs which rewarded them for their trouble. Then a shout rang out in the air.

"Silence!" bellowed the Mullah, who had again taken his post upon the top of his hut. "Let every man remain quiet, so that we may hear what is said."

"Our father is right," shouted the man again. "He is a wise leader, indeed, for here are sure signs of the dogs who have disturbed us. Boats are missing from the banks, and by the aid of my torch I can see them on the farther side. Wait while I go over to look further into the matter."