CHAPTER V.

Thring could scarcely believe his eyes when they fell upon his chum Jack being hurried away up the cliffs by three swarthy, fleet-footed Arabs. That piercing cry of "Help! help!" had gone to his heart, for he did not fail to instantly recognise the well-loved tones of that friend whom he had mourned as dead. If it had not been for the fact that the Arabs, in the hurry and confusion, had omitted to gag their captive, even Thring might have been deceived, for his friend was still arrayed in his Oriental costume.

"Bless my heart if you ain't right, and that's Mr. Villiers hisself!" sang out Lobb, on hearing the young middy's exclamation. "How in the name of wonder did----" And, without finishing his sentence, the coxswain snatched up an Arab musket which he knew to be loaded.

"The swabs have knocked him over, and may be a-murderin' of 'im!" he cried, in horrified tones.

But Thring made a dash at the long barrel. "Don't fire at them, Lobb; you might hit poor Jack."

The seaman lowered the gun. "I could pick off any one of the warmints if I had a mind to," he said; "leastways, if this was a Martini-Henry I had in my fist; but by ill fortin it ain't."

Thring stamped on the deck in despair, as he watched with agonised glances his helpless chum being borne away into the interior, accompanied by about a score of escaped slaves.

His duty was plain, however. He recognised that at once. An immediate return to the "Forte" to report matters was imperative, and there were some wounded men--both sailors and Arabs--to attend to. Ahmed, as we know, had lost his life, and the same fate had overtaken one of his principal followers. Several of the cutter's crew were suffering from wounds, but fortunately none of them were serious.

It was necessary to leave a small guard on board the dhow, and Thring was about to step into the cutter with his reduced crew when it was reported to him that the "Forte's" pinnace was approaching. Captain Brooke, having observed the dhow's mast, and that the cutter had gone--as he thought--to reconnoitre, very promptly sent away one of his largest boats, containing a score of armed men, under command of the gunnery lieutenant.

"This is a very serious matter," exclaimed that officer when he had heard the middy's story. "Thank God your friend is alive, and I trust we may yet see him aboard safe and sound. There is not a moment to lose, however, and we must return instantly to the ship and report matters to the captain. I'll put half a dozen additional men aboard the slaver, and then we'll sheer off."

[Illustration: (Thring and Captain Brooke)]

Captain Brooke looked very grave when he heard the extraordinary news brought by the two officers. The glad intelligence that Jack Villiers was alive spread like wildfire throughout the ship, and everyone, fore and aft, was burning to join in an expedition to effect his release.

The captain hoped that the Arabs would come off and treat for the release of the prisoner, and to this end--through the ship's interpreter--several parleys were held with the Arab captives, who, evidently in terror of their lives, protested stoutly that no Englishman had been on board the dhow at all, and that Thring and his boat's crew must have been mistaken in thinking they had seen such a person. In despair at their obstinacy, Captain Brooke ordered the prisoners to be released and put on shore, with a parting and most emphatic reminder that if a hair of the missing midshipman's head was hurt they would all eventually be recaptured and hanged at the yard-arm.

[Illustration: _Several parleys were held with the Arab captives._]

Meanwhile energetic preparations were going on for fitting out an expedition. Every available boat was manned and armed, and the little naval brigade, consisting of a hundred bluejackets and twenty marines, was placed under the command of the gunnery lieutenant, Mr. Howard. All the necessary arrangements, however, took some time, especially as the steam-launch had to be hoisted out and fitted for active service. Captain Brooke did not regret the delay, as he still hoped that his warnings to the released Arab prisoners would have effect, and that Jack would be held to ransom without loss of time. In this, however, he was doomed to disappointment, for no messenger bearing the olive-branch of peace arrived upon the scene.

The sun was now descending swiftly into his cloudy bed in the radiant west, and, as there is scarcely any twilight in the tropic zone, the officers of the "Forte" recognised that it would be impossible for the expedition to start before the following morning. It was known, of course, that only three armed Arabs had formed Jack Villiers's escort; but, for all that was known to the contrary, these men might easily induce some of the warlike Somalis to join them and assist in forming ambushes or other devices of guerilla warfare.

There were two prime difficulties which presented themselves to Captain Brooke's mind. The first and most important was that the Arabs, incensed at being pursued, might put Jack to death out of pure spite; and the second was that it was impossible to tell in which direction the fugitives had gone, as nothing had been seen of them since the cutter's crew had observed them clambering up the acclivities of Ras Joo-joo like so many startled deer pursued by a leopard.

Dawn broke in a clear cloudless sky. The "Forte," now anchored in the bay, appeared to be lying in a tranquil lake, unruffled by the lightest catspaw. The bleak and barren-looking shores appeared to be deserted. Not a human being was visible on strand or cliff, although the signalmen repeatedly swept them with their powerful telescopes.

It was necessary to take action, and that promptly.

The naval brigade was mustered, and then drafted into the boats. Every man was armed with a rifle and cutlass, the petty-officers being supplied with revolvers as well. Thring, as a friend of the kidnapped midshipman, was allowed to accompany the force, much to his own satisfaction.

The steam-launch took the little flotilla in tow, and, with her engines going full speed ahead, steered for the mouth of the Joo-joo river, where it was proposed to disembark the force. No field-guns were taken, owing to the nature of the country, but the launch had a seven-pounder mounted in her bows in case it should be necessary to disperse any body of natives that might assemble to dispute the landing--a not very probable contingency.

As the estuary of the river was opened out, two small canoes were observed upon its waters, the occupants of which were apparently engaged in fishing.

Young Thring was in the launch with the gunnery lieutenant, actively at work with his telescope.

"There's your dhow safe enough at anchor," observed Mr. Howard; "but I wonder what those fellows are up to in the canoes."

"Perhaps they're spies, sir," said the middy.

"We must make prisoners of them in any case. It is just possible that we may be able to wring some information out of the fellows if they are inhabitants of the country."

[Illustration: (Native in canoe)]

The boats having been cast off, the gig was ordered to immediately seize the two canoes, the natives in which were now paddling away up-stream in evident alarm. They were quickly captured, however, and brought on board the launch, where they stood before the lieutenant trembling in every limb.

Through the interpreter, who understood all the dialects of the coast, Mr. Howard cross-examined the men, who proved to be members of the Somali tribe, and genuine fishermen. On the promise of a large reward if their information should prove correct, these fellows spun a long yarn, some items of which proved to be of great importance.

It appeared that they had seen Jack Villiers carried away up-country, and out of curiosity had followed in the track of the fugitives--a white prisoner being a very uncommon sight on their coast. They soon perceived that the Arabs were not unacquainted with the country, for they made straight for a large, rudely-fortified village situated on the left bank of the river, and some ten miles from its mouth. This settlement was ruled over by a petty chief of warlike tastes, who often made cruel and utterly unprovoked raids upon his neighbours.

The fishermen went on to relate that they saw the Arabs and the escaped slaves enter this village, and that they felt sure the chief had received them amicably. They themselves had not dared to approach any nearer, but had slunk off to their own home, a mere hovel on the banks of the stream; nor had they seen or heard anything more of the prisoner or his captors.

This news--if trustworthy--was of enormous importance, for it located the whereabouts of the fugitives. The lieutenant gave it as his opinion that the chief in question had probably been a friend and ally of Ahmed's in former days, and that the news of that slave-dealer's death would probably exasperate him very much against all Englishmen, and decide him to assist the Arabs with all his armed forces.

The fishermen, on being asked if they would consent to act as guides, willingly agreed to do so; and, as the river was too shallow to allow of the boats proceeding up-stream, the naval contingent was landed at a convenient spot on the left bank, and quickly formed up for an advance. The country here was fortunately open and fairly level; and, though there was no road, the ground was firm under the men's feet, and not obstructed by scrub or jungle. The only signs of vegetation were a few mangrove-bushes that lined the banks of the muddy, sluggish stream, and an occasional clump of lofty bamboos.

The officers were of opinion that the fishermen were speaking the truth, but every precaution was taken to guard against treachery by throwing out scouts and an advanced line of skirmishers.

The excitement of action enabled Thring to keep up his spirits to a certain extent, but he had a terrible foreboding that the treacherous Arabs would not scruple to murder his chum should it suit their purpose to do so. Certainly there were some grounds for his fears. The little middy felt as if he had lived a lifetime in the last few days, so great had been the tension.

As far as possible the brigade followed the course of the river, which was not a sinuous one, its turbid current flowing evenly between oozy mudbanks, whereon an occasional crocodile was seen basking in the hot rays of the tropic sun. These repellent reptiles slid off almost noiselessly into the water on viewing the approach of human beings.

Every moment--early as it was--the heat grew more intense, and a veritable plague of flies attacked the men on the march; but the gallant fellows made light of all these annoyances, and joked and laughed like a lot of light-hearted schoolboys out for a picnic. The idea that the kidnapped middy might be cruelly murdered did not occur to them. As Lobb confided to one of his cronies: "In course there'll be a bit of a scrimmage, mate, and then we'll have the young gentleman back amongst us as right as a trivet, d'ye see?"

After an arduous forced march of three hours or so, the village was reported to be in sight, and every heart beat high with expectation. A considerable détour had been made in the last three miles, so as, if possible, to enable the force to make an attack upon the village in the rear, and also for the purpose of avoiding some patches of forest near the river. Several natives had been seen making their way rapidly in the direction of the settlement, and there could be no doubt that they would give the alarm to those within the rude but strong palisades that formed the warlike chief's principal line of defence.

A halt was called under the shade of some trees, and the officers conferred together for a few moments.

A loud jabbering, mingled with shouts of both defiance and alarm, now rang out from the village. Children screamed, dogs barked, cocks crew, and goats bleated, and it was evident enough that any idea of taking the place by surprise must be abandoned.

[Illustration: (Wounded sailor)]

Rapidly the naval brigade formed into line and, with the officers leading, charged forward at the double. The men had orders not to cheer or to fire a shot until they were close to the palisades, which latter enclosed the village on every side except that which opened upon the river. Extending beyond these stockades were stretches of cultivated ground, containing crops of maize, sweet potatoes, melons, and tomatoes. There was absolutely no cover for the attacking force, a few guava-trees and clumps of cacti being the only break in the uniformity of the ground--an unfortunate circumstance.

As the bluejackets and marines swept forward to the attack, it became evident that the defenders had loopholes for firearms in their palisades, for a brisk fire was opened at different points upon the advancing brigade, and several men fell out of the ranks wounded; for, though most of the bullets flew high, a few found their billets accurately enough. The ambulance corps at once conveyed these poor fellows to the rear, where the surgeons were in attendance to dress their hurts.

[Illustration: _The chief levelled the piece and fired, and Mr. Howard fell._]

It was clear that there would be a desperate attempt on the part of the garrison to roll back the charging line of stormers, for in addition to the sharpshooters--who were but few in number--a large posse of warriors could be observed assembling just within the stockades, evidently mounted on platforms erected for the purpose. The rays of the sun flashed brightly on the spears, swords, and hatchets which these fellows bore, and lit up their savage countenances and wild fluttering turbans with weird effect.

Close to a strongly-barricaded gateway on the northern side of the line of defences two or three banners were lazily flaunting in the gentle breeze, and near this spot stood the chief, Sooltan Shah, himself, surrounded by his chief advisers and the three Arabs who had acted as Jack Villiers's escort.

Sooltan Shah was a powerfully-built man of middle age, and his clean-shaven tattooed face bore a mingled expression of cruelty and pride strongly stamped upon it. A large scar reaching from his right eye to the corner of the mouth, and a slight cast in one eye, lent the whole face a ferocious and sinister look which disagreeably impressed everyone who gazed upon it.

[Illustration: (Sooltan Shah)]

As I mentioned before, this individual had been on very friendly terms with the dead slaver-captain, and his wrath had been greatly aroused by the news that the little residue of Arabs had brought him.

"The dogs are brave," he said to his counsellors, as he admiringly watched the charge of the naval brigade; "but they'll never swarm over my palisades. If they do, my trusty warriors will wet their spears in the blood of my foemen, and their bodies shall be cast to the vultures."

As he finished speaking, the thin white line halted and poured in a volley at close range. Then it swept forward again, a ringing British cheer from over a hundred throats rushing out like a blast from amid the rolling battle smoke.

Two bullets rang by close to Sooltan Shah's gaudy and voluminous turban, and one of the Arabs standing close beside him sprang three feet into the air and fell dead at the chief's feet--shot through the heart. Sooltan's face was convulsed with passion. Seizing a musket, the butt of which was inlaid with ivory, from one of his attendants, he levelled it at the gunnery lieutenant and fired. The slug struck the ground a couple of feet in front of the officer.

"Give me another musket," roared the chief; "my second shot is always a deadly one."

[Illustration: (Jack in prison hut)]

Again he levelled the piece and fired. Mr. Howard fell, his drawn sword flying from his grasp.

"One chieftain has bitten the dust, ha! ha!" exclaimed Sooltan, with savage glee. "Now is Ahmed's death avenged, and we shall see these white men fleeing before us like a herd of gemsbok before a hungry lion."

"Some of the dogs are beneath the gateway. Shoot them down!" cried one of the Arabs excitedly.

Scarcely had the words escaped his lips than a terrific explosion rent the air, and chocks of timber, stones, and dust were hurled upwards with great force. Sooltan and those standing around him were thrown violently to the ground, and a shower of debris fell around them. A strong odour of gunpowder filled the air, and volumes of grey smoke slowly drifted away on the wind.

A detachment of seamen-gunners had blown up the barricaded gateway, and thus created a wide gap, through which a party of stormers swept in to the attack with ringing cheers.

Sooltan Shah had only been partially stunned. The desperate courage of the man asserted itself in spite of the rude awakening he had received. Seizing a weighty spear, he rapidly thundered out some orders to those around him, and then, with hasty steps and a lowering brow, rushed down at the head of his men to endeavour to stem the onward rush of the "Forte's" men.

Meanwhile other mines had been sprung, and at several points the active sailors were seen swarming over the stockades like a troop of wild cats. Some of these, however, were shot down and others wounded by the long spears of the natives.

Young Thring, brave, cool, and collected amidst all the turmoil of this hand-to-hand fight, was one of the first to enter the village, and, with the aid of a body of veteran seamen, drove the line of defenders--still fighting desperately--backwards into the narrow lanes that divided the rows of beehive huts one from the other. The middy had asked the interpreter to keep close to him, that he might be enabled to question some of the prisoners as to the whereabouts of Jack Villiers, whom he hoped to rescue alive out of the hands of his ruthless captors--if, indeed, the poor fellow had not already perished by the hands of an assassin.

As the middy and his men pushed on, the resistance of the villagers grew feebler and feebler, and at length ceased altogether. In answer to the queries of the interpreter, one of the prisoners asserted that he knew well the hut in which Jack Villiers had been confined, and would guide the victors to it. With a terrible anxiety gnawing at his heart, Thring marched on rapidly with his men, and quickly arrived before the hut which had been used as a prison.

It was deserted and empty, and there were unmistakeable bloodstains upon the earthen floor.