Tom Willoughby's Scouts: A Story of the War in German East AfricaStrang, Herbert
General
Tom Willoughby's Scouts: A Story of the War in German East Africa
Strang, Herbert
German East Africa -- Juvenile fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Africa -- Juvenile fiction
For himself, he had resolved on a venturesome, if not a risky, course.
There were still a few hours of daylight left--long enough to lead a
force out of the nullah, along the foothills above, to the ravine where
the enemy were encamped. The probabilities were that, met by rifle-fire
as they descended the cleft, they would hesitate to press an attack
against unknown numbers, and make their way back to headquarters to
report the disappearance of their captain and the necessity of larger
forces. Tom thought that with luck he might reach the mouth of the
ravine in time to ambush them, cut them off, and capture them all. His
men being only partly trained, he would need perhaps twice as many as
the enemy numbered, which meant almost all the Wahehe who were able to
shoot. But his new-born confidence in his askaris led him to adopt the
bold course of leaving them to defend the southern end of the nullah.
It was scarcely likely that another hostile force was approaching in
that direction: Reinecke had probably been confident of an easy victory
through the back door. Yet nothing should be left to chance; and the
defence of the barricade might be safely entrusted for a few hours to
the askaris and the remnant of the Wahehe, with Mirambo and his party at
hand as reinforcements in case of need.
Tom lost no time in making these arrangements, and an hour after his
return he led some eighty men out through the barricade, swung round to
the right, and climbed the foothills over which the course of the ravine
lay.
"They’ll have to carry me back," thought Tom, before he had walked a
mile. "Didn’t know I was so fagged."
Tom, indeed, had been drawing rather heavily on his physical reserves,
and to-day for the first time weariness warned him against overdoing it.
Now, more than ever, was it necessary that he should not break down, for
he felt certain that the difficulties of his people were only beginning.
Having already been on his feet for eight or nine hours, he found that
march of a few miles, at the close of the day, more exhausting than he
would have imagined. The country was broken and hilly, now bare rock,
now soft spongy ground cumbered with tangled vegetation and overshadowed
by forest trees. But the chance of trapping the force that had been
sent to trap him sustained his spirits; and the mind can, for a time,
compel the body to feats beyond its normal strength. His men, fresh,
vigorous, inspirited by the return of their leader and the recapture of
Reinecke, marched on with eagerness to reach their goal: their
enthusiasm was itself a stimulant to him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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