The stranger led the way to the centre of the enclosure. "Here’s my blockhouse," he said. "We’ve piled up the baggage, you see. I say, you’re a trump, you know. Are any more coming up?" "I sent word to Fort Hall, but that’s seventy miles from here, and we can’t expect help for two or three days." "That’s bad. We’ve been on short rations for a week and haven’t got a single full meal left. My men are as weak as rats, and I’ve had a knock myself, as you see"--his right arm was in a sling--"so that if those fellows outside pluck up their courage to make a rush I’m afraid we shall be done for." "Not a bit of it," said John cheerfully. "How did you get hurt?" "An arrow made a gash in my forearm. I was in a bit of a funk at first; my men said it was sure to be poisoned. But I’m all right so far: had some antiseptic lotion, and the wound seems to be healing. My man told you how we got into this mess, didn’t he? We’ve had an awful time of it; for six weeks on end had to fight and dodge these ruffians; and my poor father----" "Yes, I’m very sorry," said John, as the other stopped. "What I can’t make out," went on the young man presently, "is why these fellows haven’t rushed our boma. They were reinforced yesterday by six or eight men with rifles, Swahilis, too, to judge by their dress, and as I’ve only sixteen men left out of the forty we started with, and only five have rifles (four deserted with rifles yesterday), we couldn’t have held out for an hour. There’s a couple of hundred of them, I guess, and a dozen or more have got rifles or else smooth-bore muskets, and those at close quarters are just as dangerous as rifles, as we know to our cost." He did not say, but John learnt afterwards, that it was probably his own fearlessness and activity which had daunted the besiegers. He had had to get assistance in loading his rifle, and could only fire from the left shoulder; but as sure as one of the enemy showed himself within range he became a target, and several had been accounted for during the past few days. Having no doubt been informed by the deserters from his safari, however, that provisions had run short, the besiegers were quite content to play a waiting game. "What do you think we can do?" asked the stranger. John said nothing for a few moments: he was thinking hard. "I wish I could see your face," went on the other. "It’s rather odd, this--two fellows who don’t know each other talking in the dark. I don’t even know your name." "Halliday," said John, adding with a laugh, as he struck a match; "take a good look while the light lasts." By the feeble light each saw a clean-shaven face burnt almost the colour of copper by the sun. "You aren’t a bad-looking chap, and my name’s Ferrier," said the stranger. "Can we do anything, do you think?"