Across the Cameroons: A Story of War and Adventure

Towards morning the fire dwindled and went out. At daylight they could see no sign of von Hardenberg and his companion. The entire valley appeared deserted. In this part of the country there were no villages, the valleys being too barren and infertile for agriculture.

The next night the bivouac-fire was again visible, this time nearer than before. On the third night they were not more than seven or eight miles in rear of those whom they pursued.

On these occasions they were careful that their own fire should not be observed. They always lit it under the cover of large rocks or boulders, screening it from the north. They had every reason to suppose that the sheikh and his companion believed them dead. The Black Dog had doubtless told his employer that their pursuers had been buried alive in the crater of the old volcano.

Every night they were careful to post a sentry, and, on one occasion, when the first signs of dawn were visible in the east, Harry-who was on watch-suddenly heard a sound, faint but very distinct, immediately behind his back.

He turned quickly, but could see nothing. He waited for some moments, holding his breath, with his finger ready on the trigger of his revolver.

Nothing happened. The boy imagined that the sound had been caused by a rock-rabbit or a mountain-rat, and was about to resume his former position, when something descended upon him with a spring like that of a tiger.

In the nick of time he jumped aside. He saw a white figure rushing violently through space. In the moonlight he saw the flash of a knife that missed him by the fraction of an inch, and the next moment he was full length upon the ground, struggling in the arms of a powerful and savage man.

Locked together in a death-grip, they rolled over and over, first one on top and then the other. There was a loud shout, which came from the lips of Braid, and at that the two guides sprang to their feet and hastened to Harry's assistance.

The struggle ended as suddenly as it had begun. One second, strong fingers gripped Harry by the throat, and the next his adversary was gone. He had vanished like a ghost; he had slipped away like an eel.

Harry Urquhart sprang to his feet and listened. He heard a laugh-a wild, fiendish laugh-far away in the night. Stooping, he picked up a bare knife that was lying on the ground.

"I wrenched this from his hand," said he, showing the knife to Fernando.

The half-caste examined it in the firelight. It was a knife of Arab design.

"That," said he, "is the knife of the Black Dog."

"Why did he not fire?" asked Harry.

"Evidently because he did not wish to warn the Germans. That is a bad sign; it means that the German troops are in the neighbourhood."

The following night, when they scanned the valley, they could see no sign of the camp-fire of von Hardenberg and the Arab. The sheikh, having failed in his enterprise on the previous evening, was evidently determined to exercise greater caution. Harry examined the valley with his glasses, not only to the north but also to the west and to the east. However, he could see no sign of their enemies.

"I do not like the look of it," said Fernando. "So long as we knew where the Black Dog was, we had the whip hand of him. We must be prepared for the worst."

"Surely," said Harry, "he will push on towards Maziriland?"

"The shortest way is not always the quickest," answered the other. "As likely as not he has gone back upon his tracks, and even now is encamped somewhere behind us."

That night they deemed it advisable to light no fire. Seated amid the rocks on the crest-line of the hills, where the wind moaned and howled from the west, they held a council of war. It was decided that, during the march on the following day, the two guides should act as scouts, the elder moving some distance in advance of the three Europeans, Cortes following in rear.

By the time the sun rose above the mountain-tops, they were well upon their way. At mid-day they halted for a meal, and it was then that Cortes came running to the bivouac.

"Come here!" he cried. "I have seen them."

They followed the man to the crest-line, crawling on hands and knees. Only Peter Klein remained by the fire. Since they had escaped from the crater of the volcano no one had spoken to the man. The guides showed only too plainly that they despised him, and neither Harry nor Braid were disposed to forgive the scoundrel for having stolen their last drop of water.

They came to a place where the valley-side dropped down in an almost perpendicular cliff. Far below was a little grove of trees, around which a stream meandered, its waters glistening in the sunshine. Beyond the grove, on the other side of the valley, following a kind of bridle-path that led to the north, were five men, one of whom was dressed in robes of flowing white.

"That is the sheikh," said Fernando. "He walks by the side of the German."

"And the other three?" asked Braid.

"They are natives from the bush. The sheikh has doubtless enlisted their services during the last three days. The natives dare not refuse him labour. He was all-powerful when he was a slave-trader; fear of him passed from village to village by word of mouth. On an expedition such as this, he is doubly to be dreaded, because he has friends among the Maziris themselves."

"Then," cried Harry, "supposing he tells the tribe to rise against us?"

"There is little fear of that," said Fernando. "He is hated by the chiefs and head-men, who resent the authority he wields over many of the people."

"Then, what will he do when he draws near to the caves?"

"He will rob by night," said Cortes. "Under cover of darkness he will endeavour to secure the treasure."

"My brother," said the elder man, laying a hand upon the other's shoulder, "tell me, how far away is Black Dog?"

The man judged the distance with his eye.

"Sixteen hundred yards," said he.

"Nearly a mile," said the other. "I will try my luck. I have sworn an oath by the saints."

So saying, he lay down upon his face and loaded his rifle. Lifting the back-sight, he took long and careful aim, and then pressed the trigger. There came a sharp report, and the bullet sped across the valley.

In the space of a few seconds the sheikh and his followers had vanished. To hit a moving figure at that distance was a well-nigh impossible task, but that the bullet had not been far from its mark was apparent from the way in which the party had so suddenly disappeared.

Von Hardenberg was moving up one side of the valley, Harry and his companions on the other. It was therefore a race for the treasure. If Harry reached the caves first, he would be unable to enter the vault, by reason of the fact that the Sunstone was not in his possession. He would have to lie in wait for the Black Dog and the German.

For two days they saw nothing more of their rivals. There was water in plenty in the district, and presently springs and streams became even more numerous, and they entered into a country that was thickly wooded. At the same time the mountains became more wild and rugged, and it was soon impossible to make progress by way of the hills.

They therefore descended into the valley, and entered a region of scattered trees, which gradually became a forest, where they were shut out from the sunlight and the light of the stars. There were no paths in the forest, and they could seldom march more than eight miles a day by reason of the tangled undergrowth through which they had to cut a passage.

When they came out of the forest they were in a land of rolling hills, which, the guides told them, mounted to the summit of Maziriland. Their first camp in this district was under the lee of a hill; and, since they had seen nothing of either von Hardenberg or the German troops for several days, they deemed it safe to light a fire. There was no scarcity of fuel, and very soon a fire was blazing, the green wood crackling and hissing in the flames. Over the fire a kettle was suspended by a chain from three iron rods, and from the spout of this kettle steam was issuing, when suddenly a shot was fired in the distance, and a bullet drilled a hole through the kettle, so that the water from within ran down into the fire, whence issued a little cloud of steam.

CHAPTER XVIII-A Dash for Liberty

As one man they rushed to their arms, and even as they did so a score of shots rang out, and the whistling bullets cut the earth about their feet.

"The German troops!" cried Cortes. "We must gain the hill-top or we're lost!"

Firing into the darkness as they ran, they ascended the hill with all dispatch. At the top they found themselves subjected to a withering fire, which poured down upon them from all directions. The night was alive with the sharp reports of rifles. Sudden flashes of fire showed up on every hand, like so many living tongues of flame. It was evident the enemy was in force.

For four hours the fight continued without a check. The roar of the musketry continued; the hissing of the bullets was like heavy rain. And all this time the German soldiers were working nearer and nearer, until at last they formed a complete circle around the foot of the hill.

They were then close enough for their voices to be audible, and now and again, as a bullet found its mark, a shriek went up in the night.

By then, not one of Harry's party had been struck. This was partly due to the boulders which lay upon the hill-top, and behind which it was possible to obtain cover, and partly to the inferiority of the German marksmanship.

During a lull in the combat, a short respite from the strain of the situation, Harry took counsel with the two guides and Jim.

"It appears to me," he observed, "that if we wait till sunrise we are lost. So far, we have managed to escape death only by reason of the darkness."