Near the barricade the sides of the nullah sloped up steeply, but were easily scalable. It occurred to Tom that the enemy might wait until nightfall and then attempt to turn his position. That, however, would involve obvious difficulties and dangers; the German could hardly afford to divide his force, if it were indeed a small one. At any rate such an operation could be defeated by unremitting vigilance, and meanwhile there was all the rest of the day, supposing his conjecture were well founded, in which to push on with his defensive works. Posting, then, some of the riflemen under cover of the vegetation on either slope, Tom set the other men to fill up the gaps in the barricade. They worked with the eagerness of those who have faith in their leader, and before the sun set Tom had the satisfaction of seeing his wall complete--a rough, slight defence, indeed--but likely to be effective against nothing worse than rifle fire. By the time darkness fell, he had begun to realise that the position of a commander-in-chief is not one to be coveted. In his own small sphere he had had, as he frankly put it to himself, quite enough of it. The physical and nervous strain of the last few days; the sense of responsibility for the welfare of the people who had so readily put their trust in him; above all, perhaps, the want of sleep; had almost, in his own words again, knocked him out. Yet he dared not even sleep while the enemy was at hand. Without him the Wahehe would be simply an unorganised mob. There was nothing for it but to reconcile himself to another wakeful night, to ensure that his sentries were alert, and to leave the organisation of the people, in their retreat up the nullah, to a hoped-for leisure. The night passed undisturbed, except for false alarms. Unaccustomed to night watching, the negroes more than once declared that they heard footsteps, and even saw faces. One of them fired off his rifle in nervous excitement at the dangers his imagination had conjured up. Their fears proved to be baseless; and in the morning, when Tom warily climbed the slope to a point from which he could overlook the ground beyond the bushes, there was no sign of the enemy. A little suspicious, he sent Mushota out to creep round the position, and, if the enemy had indeed decamped, to follow them up and see what they were about. In an hour the lad returned, elation beaming from his broad smiling face. He reported that the askaris were marching swiftly back towards the plantation; in fact, they were running away! Tom did not contradict him: the belief that the enemy had fled would encourage the people; he himself thought it likely enough that they had been recalled for more important work than rounding up a gang of mutinous recruits. But Reinecke had escaped, and Reinecke, he felt sure, would never rest until he had made a bid for vengeance on the man who had committed the crime that a rascal never forgives--found him out.