While Bill sped back to the fort, John scrambled down the bluff and hurried over the plain. As he proceeded the sounds of firing became ever clearer, and when he had covered about two miles at a swinging pace he could also hear shouts. He had come almost to a thin belt of forest when he saw figures approaching among the trees. Dropping down behind a bush, he eagerly watched them. At the edge of the forest they came clearly into view, and he saw that they were black men, marching in single file, rapidly, in spite of heavy loads. From behind them came at short intervals the still louder crack of rifles, and the more voluminous shouts of men. In a few moments he recognized them as men of his safari, and rose to meet them. His figure suddenly appearing above the bush startled them, and they instantly dropped their loads with yells, and began to run away. But a shout from him dispelled their fright; they turned, and hastened towards him, leaving their loads, however, where they had thrown them. When they met him they told him in accents of terror that the msungu was fighting with a great host of bad men. Two or three showed wounds they had received. John ordered them to return to their loads and take them up, and then to look out for the party following him. He hurried forward into the wood, and half-a-mile further on came upon Ferrier with the rest of the safari, slowly retiring before a horde of savages. He had supposed that the "great host" of which the porters had spoken was an exaggeration born of their panic, but he saw that Ferrier and his men were, in fact, holding at bay a crowd of natives, among whom he perceived the white garments of Swahilis. Ferrier had Coja on his right and Said Mohammed on his left, each at a few yards’ interval, the remainder of the party, armed only with bows and arrows, being spread out on each side over a considerable space to avoid the risk of being outflanked. They were retiring slowly, taking cover behind trees, picking off any of the enemy who showed themselves. Ferrier himself was a dead shot now that he had recovered the full use of his arm. Several men had fallen to his unerring aim. What execution Coja and Said Mohammed did John never knew; but their shots had been effective in daunting the enemy, who had not dared to come too near, or to make a rush. With a little more courage and generalship the savages, vastly outnumbering the safari, could have swept round them and had them at their mercy; but the young Canadian had hitherto managed to hold off the bolder spirits who pressed him in front, and the others followed on without as yet attempting a flanking movement. "Good man!" cried John, as he hastened to Ferrier’s side. "My lot are coming up. We had better get out of this wood, or they’ll be all round us."