Kitabı oku: «With Wolseley to Kumasi: A Tale of the First Ashanti War», sayfa 9

Chapter Nine.
Deceiving the Enemy

“You have been the round of the men and have told them our plan?” asked Dick, some minutes later, as the chiefs came to his side again. “Is there one who does not understand?”

“Not one, white chief. Two are to go to the crest behind when you shall say that the time for that movement has come. Those two will be myself and my brother here. If there are men up there they shall die. Those who pass to the front of the stockade know their orders well. Each will attempt to find an enemy, and will fire. He will fire into the forest if he can see none, and will retire slowly, firing occasionally all the while. His duty also is to run from side to side, so that it may trouble the enemy to know where we are coming. But gradually the miners are to collect closer to the right, and we hope the enemy will gather there, too. If all is well with us by then, you will know, for one will return. Then you will pass on to the men in front. They will retire, and we shall make for the forest – that is, all but myself.”

Dick expressed his satisfaction, and was about to turn away when Johnnie came forward to speak to him.

“What Johnnie do?” he asked.

“You will lead the men to the road through the forest,” said Dick. “Once you reach the launch, get your fire going and steam up. Then lay off, with a boat attached, if you think the launch will not carry all of us. See that the gold is packed on board, and, above all, destroy the other boats. Beat them to pieces and sink them in the stream, where they will not block your path. Wait and be ready for those who follow. The chief and myself may have to run for it.”

“And why me not stay to help massa?” demanded the little black fellow, earnestly. “We know de path in de forest. Me quick, and can help. Why me not stay?”

“Because in this matter of our escape every man must carry out the task for which he is best fitted. We rely on you, Johnnie, to get steam up. If you fail, what will happen to us all?”

“Um! Me see well ’nough now,” was the answer. “Me go right ’nough. But me rather stay, massa. Me always want to help.”

Dick patted him on the back, for he had long ago seen that Johnnie was a faithful fellow, and had taken his master into his special favour. He did not trouble to seek the cause, but knew that it was a fact – the little man had been proving his devotion to him in a hundred ways since they two had been left alone at the goldmine. But had Johnnie been asked, he would have quickly supplied a reason.

“Me lob Massa Dick,” he would often murmur to himself. “He not like some of dese white men who comes to de coast. Dey velly young often – jest like him – and dey tink dat dey oh so much finer dan de poor black man. So dey am; but no need kick and swear at um. Massa not like dat. He say, ‘please, Johnnie,’ nice and friendly, when he want him food. And he never forget ‘tank you, Johnnie.’ Dat what me like. Me work for man like dat. And massa velly fine young fellow. He brave. He make friend eberywhere – same’s Massa Pepson and de fat Dutchman. Dey his broders, who lob him same’s Johnnie.”

It was a clear explanation, and no doubt was perfectly truthful. Indeed, there is little doubt that a little more thought on the part of the white man would often result in better relations between himself and the man of darker complexion. Youth and inexperience are no excuse for harsh dealing and bitter words, for sneers and open scoffing. The black man needs special treatment. He can be ruled easily and well. He can be made a faithful and contented servant, and there are none more fitted to be his masters than are Englishmen. But whatever the black may be, he is a fellow human being, and deserves common kindness and courtesy, till he has proved himself unworthy of either; and a little care in such matters – more care than is always given – would perhaps lead to better relations in our Indian dominions.

“Me go wid de first lot, den,” said Johnnie. “Time massa reach de launch she hab steam fit to bust.”

“Then off you go to the hut, and bring me along that drum of kerosene oil we use for the miners’ lamps. Wait, though. I’ll go with you.”

He trudged off to the hut, and there for a quarter of an hour he and the little black stoker were hard at work, feeling sure that the miners would meanwhile hold all secure. Indeed, there was little to fear, for the moon was still up, though it was now close to the summit of the tree-tops, and would soon fall below the forest and be hidden. Still, while it was light, movement on their part, or on that of the enemy, would be madness.

“Now, Johnnie, smartly does it, as the sailors say,” cried Dick, as they entered the hut. “We will have that small lantern alight, and then we will commence operations. I am going to lay a little supper for Master James Langdon, expert thief and murderer. I will leave him a little legacy which will hardly please him. Got the lantern? Then bring all the picks and spare mining tools. Bring everything, in fact, likely to be of use in the mines, and now held in our stores. Pile them in the centre of the floor here close to the drum.”

The native looked up in astonishment, but flew at once to carry out the order. It took very little time, indeed, for the stores held in the hut were not very large or diverse. There were just sufficient spare parts to replace a few breakages – enough, in fact, to keep the mine going in its then primitive condition, and till it had shown whether it was valuable or not. The various articles were dumped down in the centre of the hut, while Dick busied himself with throwing there all the odds and ends of clothing hanging to the walls, scraps of paper, and inflammable articles.

“Now for the gold,” he said. “We have it in bags already, and have merely to divide it. Let me see. There are twelve miners, and they, with our two selves, make fourteen. Subtract two, for the chief and myself, who remain behind, and that leaves twelve. Twelve bags, Johnnie, do you hear?”

The native grinned. He began to see a joke in all this hurry and bustle. He darted towards the store of gold, which was kept in small canvas bags, and helped Dick to divide it up. There was not a large quantity, though the mine had done remarkably well. Still, so rich is the ore in Ashanti that, thanks to the work of the miners and Dick’s care, the store was of great value.

“Me laugh, ha! ha! ha! You see de face ob dat half-white scum,” cried Johnnie. “He lob de gold. He say now to himself, ‘me soon wring de neck ob all dem fellers, and special of de white man whom me hate like pisin. Yes, me turn dem out, and den me set oder boys to work. Yes, fine game me play. Get shaft dug, ground open, all de labour done. Den walk in, find house, plenty gold, stockade, gun, eberyting.’ Golly! he make bit mistake dis time. He find nest clear, p’raps. All de eggs cooked, de old birds flown ’way, and all velly hot. No gold, no food, noding. Him cuss and swear. Him rabe. Him say, ‘hang dat Dick Stapleton. Me kill um by little inches when me hab de feller.’ How Johnnie like to stay and see him go crazy.”

“Thank you, I’d rather be far away,” said Dick, with a laugh. “Mister James Langdon is a gentleman who would kill me with less compunction than he would tread on a beetle. No, thanks. No staying for me.”

“No Johnnie, neider, tank you all same, massa. Me get to de steamer, and yo see. When yo come, she fairly jumpin’, so ready to go. Yes, me break up de oder boats and hab all ready. Make no trouble. Johnnie know what to do.”

“Then let’s place these bags in a row just inside the door of the stockade,” said Dick. “We’ll put the lamp there, too, so that the light cannot be seen outside, but so that the men can distinguish the bags. Then, as they retire, they will pick one up and go up the hill. That’s all clear. Come along.”

Ten minutes later they had laid the wealth of the gold-mine at the door of the stockade, and each man had been brought to the position and been given full instructions.

“You can trust the matter to them entirely, white chief,” said the leader of the miners. “You must have seen that they are honest, and besides, all have an interest, and if one happened to be a robber, the others would soon arrest him.”

“Then I will complete my arrangements. I see that the moon is almost down. Has there been any movement amongst the enemy?”

“They have crept a little closer,” was the answer. “We did not fire, as it did not seem necessary. They have drawn in their circle out here in front, and I believe that they have brought one or two men from the crest.”

It was comforting news, for if the enemy’s position were known, the task of the defenders would be easier.

“They know that our case is desperate,” thought Dick, “and they have come in closer to keep us in. They will not make a rush themselves after what I heard them say. Then at the very first our men should be able to locate them and drive them back. Good! Now for the last preparation.”

He went off to a corner of the stockade, and came staggering back with a small barrel over his shoulder, while Johnnie followed with a square case.

“Place it there carefully,” said Dick, as they arrived close to the gate. “Now break it open, and unpack the contents.”

The materials in the box were rapidly exposed to view, and one by one they handled rockets of enormous size, detonators, and fuses, for an assortment of explosives had been brought to the mines. Dick took the end of a pick and pried the lid off the cask. Then he tore off his hat.

“Hold,” he said to Johnnie. “That’s right, and keep well away from the lamp. It’s gunpowder, and would send us up to the sky. That’s the way, Johnnie; now put the barrel down and hold the hat.”

He had filled his hat with the shining black grains, and now he arranged the barrel a few feet within the stockade, covered it with an old cloth which he had saturated with kerosene, and then placed the rockets and other explosives on top. Meanwhile the lamp was kept at a respectful distance. By now the moon had fallen below the tree-tops, and already the light had faded to such an extent that it was difficult to see more than a few feet. It was time to begin moving, and again a call brought all the garrison to the gate.

“This is the bomb which I hope will help us,” said Dick, a grim smile on his lips. “Look at it there, gunpowder and bombs. Very well, then; I have showed it so that you will not stumble on to it. Let each one now lie down at the gate. When I give you the order you will all file out, and on your return you will find the gold bags where they are now, and the lantern beside them. Each will take a bag and retire to the back of the stockade. There one of your chiefs will be waiting for you, and he will give you the direction. You will make for the forest and the boats. A last warning. Do not get too close to the enemy. You know their position, and can creep sufficiently near to make your shots tell. Shout to one another, and make it appear as though a rush were about to be made. In a quarter of an hour you can begin to retire. Come back, firing slowly. When you meet me I will send the word to each. Then slink off at once. Now, Johnnie, the drum of kerosene.”

He took the cap full of gunpowder, and began to lay a train, spilling the black grains in a thick line across the grass towards the hut. He ran it in through the door, faking care to keep the train well to one side where his feet would not touch it. Then he emptied what remained in a pile in the very centre. And meanwhile Johnnie carried the lamp, giving just sufficient light to show the way, and holding it as far from his barrel of kerosene as possible. And now there remained but two things to do. There were a few drops of water left in the bottle, drops to which the black had drawn Dick’s attention without avail. He took them now and threw them on his little heap of powder, stirring the mass with his fingers, and kneading it till he had the substance soft and sticky. Then he arranged it in the shape of a pyramid, and, having made his “devil,” carried it into the far corner of the room. He still had a few grains of powder left, and these he ran as a train from the devil to the clothing and odd stores which lumbered the floor.

“Finished,” he said at length, surveying his work with much pleasure. “Now the oil.”

Taking the drum, he pulled the cork out of the bung-hole and let the contents pour over the heap in the centre of the hut. He threw some over the walls, saturating every corner save the one in which the devil was placed. Then, carefully avoiding the train, he emerged from the hut, crossed to the gate and repeated the same process, spreading the inflammable fluid all round the rockets and detonators there, and taking it to the walls of the stockade, where he again threw the contents on the woodwork. That done, he put the drum down, and placed the lamp close to the bags of gold.

“Mind,” he said, lifting a warning finger, as he stood in the light, “you each take a bag and go. You leave the lamp burning, remember that. I shall want it to fire the train.”

It was time to move. By now the moon had sunk completely, and dense darkness reigned over the surrounding forest and the neighbourhood of the stockade. Our hero looked closely at his men. There was an air of suppressed excitement about them, but he could see no trace of fear. Indeed, these miners had already proved that they possessed courage, and though they were not like their countrymen, for ever practised in the arts of war, yet they had fair knowledge, as their behaviour had already shown. Each carried a rifle in his hand, while a bag of cartridges dangled across his shoulder. In addition, the short sword which every Ashanti man wears, hung from the waist, ready for hand-to-hand fighting. They sat on the ground in a circle, talking in whispers and waiting for the signal.

“Time to move,” said Dick, easily. “Open the gates, chief.”

Silently and stealthily, as if they were so many ghosts, the party issued from the stockade, and soon our hero, the two chiefs, and Johnnie, were alone.

“Five minutes after the first shot is fired you will move,” said their young leader. “It will take three more to reach the crest, and then – ”

“It shall be cleared,” whispered the chief, with determination in his voice. “My comrade and I have sworn that we will slay all who lie there. Trust to us to do the deed without a sound, and to return in time. We will make sure that none are left to spy upon us.”

Five minutes passed slowly, and still there was no sound. Though the four peered from the stockade, intent upon piercing the darkness, and observing the movements of their comrades, there was nothing to be seen. The ground outside might as well have been untenanted. It was trying work waiting there for the sound of a shot. The seconds were like minutes, so slowly did they seem to go. Dick could hear his own heart thudding, could hear the deep breathing of the chiefs, while ever and anon the weak rays of the lamp showed him the white of Johnnie’s eyes, as he turned them towards the sky. Ah! It was a shout which broke the trying silence.

A shout of alarm, coming from the lips of one of the enemy. And quickly following upon it came the sharp report of a rifle and a human scream, the cry of some unhappy native who had been hit. After that there was a medley of calls and loud reports. Shouts and cries of rage and excitement came from the enemy, rifles flashed and roared, while the muzzle-loaders of the Ashanti attackers bellowed as they sent their load of slugs towards the stockade. The air above the enclosure sang with missiles of every description. Angular pieces of lead and iron, bullets of excellent formation, ironstone pebbles and pieces of broken rock, hissed over the hut and stockade in answer to the fire of the defenders.

“Excellent!” said Dick, as he stared from the gateway. “They are doing well. If I were not aware of the movement being carried out, I should say that the garrison was making a sortie, or an attempt to break out, and that they were trying to find the weakest spot in the ring thrown round them. Listen to the calls of the enemy, and hark! there goes a whistle.”

Above all the sound came the shrill signal, perhaps blown by James Langdon himself.

“It may be a recall to the men on the crest,” he whispered. “Chief, it is time for you and your comrade to move.”

“We go. In a few minutes you shall hear from us, white chief.”

Dick turned to see the two brave Ashantis passing out of the stockade. In a moment they were gone, and, like their comrades, they made not a sound. He and Johnnie were left alone to listen to the firing and the shouts outside, and to strain their ears for some noise, a shout perhaps, the firing of a rifle, to tell them that the chiefs had been discovered. But no signal came from the direction of the crest, they had no intimation of the fate which had befallen the plucky two, till of a sudden a figure rose at their feet, causing both to start back.

“I am sent by my leader,” said a voice. “The crest is clear. There were two of the enemy there. They are dead.”

Dick could hardly believe his ears, and the news took a load from his mind. If all was clear on the crest, then it was time to set the others moving. He swung round and addressed Johnnie.

“You stay here till the bags are gone, then follow,” he said. “I am going to join our comrades in front.”

When the black stoker looked again his master was gone, and with a sigh and a shiver of apprehension he sat down beside the lamp, and waited there in silence, for he and the Ashanti chief could not understand one another. As for our hero, he crept forward till the shots on either hand told him that he was amongst the men. Then he sought one of them and whispered in his ear, with the result that the miner passed to left and right, giving his comrades the message, with orders to pass it on. It was wonderful with what intelligence these Ashantis carried out their part of the work. They began to fall back slowly, firing at the flashes of the enemy’s rifles, till they were within fifty yards of the stockade.

“Now begin to hold your fire,” said Dick, and in a minute the shots lessened. Another five minutes and the men were slinking back to the stockade, while our hero raced to and fro, firing his rifle repeatedly, so as to make the enemy think that the whole garrison was there. He fired, in fact, till his weapon was almost too hot to hold, and actually blistered his fingers. And then, when he judged that all must be clear of the stockade, and at the crest by now, he threw down his rifle and ran. Dashing into the stockade, he hardly paused as he snatched up the lamp, and went on pellmell for the hut. Leaping the train of powder, he ran to the far corner of the building, and knelt beside the “devil.” A jerk threw the lantern open, and in a second he had the candle in his hand. There was no time for hesitation, and at once he held the flame to the devil till it smoked and a few grains fizzled. But it did not fire at once. A little more heat was required, for he had over-damped the powder, and in his overstrung condition the extra time entailed in providing that heat was maddening. At any time the enemy might suspect. They might even then be within the stockade. He would then – Ah! It had fired. The devil was well alight, throwing out its pungent fumes, till they gripped Dick’s throat. He could move. The act was accomplished. The place was as good as fired.

He rose to his feet, stamped on the candle, and stole to the door. He would have been out in the open in another second had not something suddenly caused him to throw himself full length on the floor, where he lay in deep shadow, while just in front of him a few feeble rays from the spluttering devil passed through the door and showed him two figures. One was the half-caste, while beside him, bending low as they crept across the compound, was a native, the glint from his enormous blade coming to Dick’s eyes.

“A ruse! We have lost the birds,” he heard the half-caste growl huskily, as if his anger were choking him. “But they are close. I know they are near us. Hah! Look there, chief. Afire. Look! a fire!”

They were quite close by now, and Dick saw them both start back. Then, as they caught sight of the spluttering devil and took in the situation, he saw them turn to run.

“A mine! A mine!” shouted the half-caste.

Leaping to his feet, he ran towards the gate of the stockade, the native abreast of him, and close on their heels came Dick, aglow with excitement. He was bent on escape. He felt the doors of retreat closing on him, and he was determined to get away. Suddenly James Langdon turned and gripped the native. Then he swung round, as if a thought had occurred to him, and he had realised that there was time yet to save an explosion. Indeed, that was his thought, and he at once ran back to the stockade. An instant later he saw Dick’s figure bounding towards him in the darkness. He gave vent to a shout, and then crashed up against a boulder which happened to lie there, for our hero’s fist had struck him full on the chest. The blow almost staggered Dick, too, but he recovered his balance in a moment, and, swinging round, dealt the native a fierce stroke on the chin, sending him reeling. After that he was off like lightning. He was out of the gate ere a second had passed, and, darting round the stockade, was soon clambering up to the crest. Nor did he halt till he had reached the summit.

“Rest a moment,” said the voice of the chief. “I heard the commotion, and I am glad to report that the men who followed you into the place fled down the hill. See the smoke coming from the hut. And there are the flames. We will move when you are ready.”

Some five minutes later the two set off for the forest, the native leading, for he knew the way well, and had this enormous advantage over his young English leader, that he could see on such a night so well that they never once found themselves in a part where the difficulties of the track baulked their further progress. Since the day on which the expedition had first arrived, Dick had often taken the short cut to the forest which the agent had then used, and he knew how steep and difficult it was in parts, and how much care it called for, even when the easiest descents were selected. Had he had to find his way down alone on this night, he would probably have broken a limb, or lost his foothold and rolled, certainly to be dashed senseless before he reached the bottom. Then, too, it was not a time for hurry, such a dark night as this. But they had no choice. They could already see the glare of the flaming stockade in the sky. They could hear the shouts of their enemies, and they knew, the native far better than did Dick, that already his countrymen would be on the track.

“Once in the forest we shall be safe, I think,” he said, speaking as easily as if he had made no unusual efforts, though our hero was so short of breath that he gasped.

“Then we will put out all our strength to reach that place.”

By now they were near the foot of the rocky hill, and presently they were running steadily across the level. At length they reached the edge of the forest, where they halted, Dick to throw himself on the ground and gasp there for breath.

“A fine bonfire for our enemies,” laughed the chief, exulting now that he had left the worst of the danger behind. “How is it that there is no explosion?”

No explosion! The bomb had failed! Dick looked up suddenly, his fatigue forgotten in an instant.

“Perhaps we walked through the train and scattered the powder,” he said breathlessly. “Yes, I fancy that must be the secret. But it may go yet. The oil should carry the flames.”

A little later, when both were rested, there was a violent concussion in the distance, the report shaking the trees. An instant before, a mass of burning materials shot high up above the crest, while a series of loud explosions took place, as the rockets and detonators burst in mid-air. It brought a roar of exultation from the two standing beside the edge of the forest, a roar which changed as quickly into one of consternation. For however successful the bomb had proved, however well it had destroyed the stockade, and perhaps some few of the enemy, the flames it sent into the air lit up the surroundings and showed them that if James Langdon and his men had once been taken in they were not to be so easily caught again; and, moreover, that on this occasion they were bent on retrieving their misfortunes. For racing down the crest and across the open ground came some forty Ashanti warriors, their guns flung this way and that, and bare swords in their hands. They had discovered the direction of the flying garrison, and they were in full chase, coming like a pack of hounds who hold the scent and see victory before them.

“Lead!” said Dick, shortly, as they swung into the forest. “I have my wind now, and can keep up at any pace.”

It was well for him that he could do so, for the track was not an easy one. Still there is no stimulus so strong as that which promises a swift and terrible fate to the one who lags behind. Dick knew what to expect if he were captured, and he went on without flagging. Briars and vines slashed him across both face and hands, lacerating the skin. Thorns plucked him by his clothing and tore it to shreds. He struck his knees against fallen tree-trunks, and his feet against rotting boughs. He plunged through narrow swamps and rivers, and dragged his legs through mire which threatened to hold him. And all the time the shouts of the hunters came in his wake. Talk of the music of the hounds! Dick learned during that wild dash through the heart of this dense forest to appreciate the bitterness of that statement from the point of view of the quarry fleeing for his very life. He knew now how the call of the pursuers made the blood run cold, how the yelp of Ashanti warriors made the hair rise, and the limbs stand almost still with sheer fright. Yes, he was the hare this time, and had there been a man at his heels, flogging him with a whip of knotted steel wire, or goading him with spikes, he could not have run harder. The perspiration poured from him. Blood dripped from many a cut and laceration, while his breath came in short gasps.

“Hurrah! Him massa. Wait now, you young debil. Yo wait till I say go. Hold de fire till I tell yo. Hear? Can’t yo hear dem fellers comin’?”

Once again did Dick learn to bless the sound of that voice. He dashed along beside the creek, saw the launch lying some feet away, and flung himself into the water. The chief followed suit without hesitation, and in a minute they were pushing out into the stream, the two fugitives lying flat upon the deck, breathless and exhausted with their exertions.

And close on their heels came the enemy, maddened with rage, bent on securing the whole party. As the launch slipped into the stream and rounded the corner, first one and then some thirty of the warriors came tearing along the path, their dark figures hardly distinguishable in spite of the fact that the sky was getting lighter. But they could see clearly. They caught sight of the launch, and with yells of fury made ready to follow and effect her capture.