The long trail: A story of African adventure — John Shaqi
The long trail: A story of African adventureStrang, Herbert
General
The long trail: A story of African adventure
Strang, Herbert
Adventure stories; Africa -- Juvenile fiction; Black people -- Africa -- Juvenile fiction
He hastened back to the bend, and concealed himself by Gambaru's side
among the rushes.
It was perhaps five minutes later that the first man of the advance
guard appeared round the bend. He walked straight down to the
bridge-head, followed by five others. Royce watched them eagerly,
his heart beating fast. Everything depended on what would happen in
the next minute.
To his dismay, instead of walking at once on to the bridge, they
stood in a group at the end, all talking together. Were they going
to wait until the prisoners came down? If they did, it would spoil
everything.
For half a minute Royce waited in a fever of suspense. Then, to his
great joy, the men formed single file again and began to cross the
bridge.
Now he had a new anxiety--the fear that John would not act quickly
enough. But the first of the Tubus was still some yards from the
farther bank when there was a slight swishing sound, a tremendous
splash, and a babel of yells from the men whom the cutting of the
ropes had plunged into the river.
Then John, drenched with water, but beaming with delight, came
rushing up to join his master, who, with Gambaru, had left his
hiding-place and stationed himself at the near side of the bend.
As Royce had expected, the shouts of the men had the effect of
bringing up the nearest man of the escort at the double, leaving the
group of prisoners, of which he was in charge, to follow. The moment
he showed himself round the corner Royce dealt him a blow that
stretched him on the ground. Gambaru, acting on Royce's
instructions, instantly pounced on the man, tore the turban from his
head, and calling to John to assist him, stuffed into his mouth a gag
made of the linen, and pinioned his arms with strips shred from his
loincloth.
Royce, meanwhile, stood waiting for the next man, at the same time
watching with some anxiety the operations of his Hausas. All,
perhaps, depended on their quickness. His anxiety was needless.
With ready wit John perceived the nature of his master's design, and
within twenty seconds the fallen Tubu was helpless and harmless.
[Illustration: COLLAPSE]
A few moments later a second Tubu dashed round the bend. Like the
first, he had left his gang of prisoners, and run ahead to discover
the cause of the outcry, which had now ceased, for the men of the
advance guard had been carried far down the rapid stream.
The second man was served as the first had been. A third and a
fourth appeared, only to meet the same fate. Then there was a pause.
Either the remaining members of the escort had not heard their
comrades' yells, or the ensuing silence had reassured them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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