On returning from the bridge, Royce was too impatient to remain at the river level and wait for news from Gambaru, perched on the heights above. He reflected, too, that when so much was at stake, it was better to make his own observations than to rely on an unskilled native.
"Gambaru's eyesight is no doubt better than mine," he thought, "but his judgment is not likely to be. And I've had some training in scouting."
He clambered up the steep acclivity until, somewhat out of breath, he reached Gambaru's side.
"Have you seen anything?" he asked.
"Nuffin, sah," the man replied.
Shading his eyes from the sun, Royce gazed earnestly over the country. He could see the track for nearly a mile, until it disappeared below the shoulder of the hill a few hundred yards from where he stood. There was no human being in sight.
Again and again he looked, becoming more and more restless at the non-appearance of the enemy. He began to fear that they had diverged from the track, and instead of directing their march towards the bridge, had made off in a body towards a ford.
But suddenly Gambaru touched his arm.
"Dat's dem, sah!" he cried, extending his arm. For a few moments Royce's less perfect vision failed to descry anything upon the track except what seemed to be a slight haze. But at length he was able to distinguish figures, and then he felt considerable surprise. The men he saw marching towards him were all on foot. Where were the horsemen whom he had previously seen at the head of the column?
"What uncommon luck!" he said to himself. "They seem to have left the track already, and gone to one side or the other to cross by some ford they know. It makes things easier."
He had expected the mounted men to accompany the column to the bridge, and then part from it to find the ford. That they had not done so proved, first that they were very confident, and secondly that the ford was at some considerable distance from the bridge.
The Tubus clearly expected no molestation by natives of the district, whom they, no doubt, regarded as completely cowed. It was equally clear that they intended, after making their detour by the ford, to meet the rest of the column at some spot beyond the bridge.
Taking care to keep under cover, Royce watched the procession until the last man appeared. All the horsemen had gone. He made out that there was a vanguard of about half a dozen armed men, and another half a dozen brought up the rear. At intervals along the column there were about the same number, acting as escort to the prisoners. The vanguard marched some two hundred yards ahead of the rest, who were strung out over at least half a mile. They marched very slowly.
It was a long time before Royce was able to distinguish the figure of his friend. He almost feared that Challis had been taken to the ford, still tied to the saddle; and it gave him a thrill of joy when at last he observed the white-clad form, about half-way down the column.
Royce had already conceived the general idea of his ambuscade; the absence of the horsemen promised to make its working out in detail much easier than he could have hoped. These details he thought out as he watched the column slowly advancing.
His plan was to let the vanguard pass over the bridge, then to sever them from the rest of the column by cutting the remainder of the ropes, and afterwards to deal with the others as circumstances might dictate. It was this last part which had given him most anxiety. Now, however, he rapidly made up his mind to attempt an operation which had been suggested by the nature of the ground.
The track, it will be remembered, made a sharp bend just where it descended to the river. On one side was the river itself, thickly fringed with rushes; on the other, the steep and almost precipitous slope. It depended on the nerve and the quickness of Gambaru whether he could take advantage of that bend to carry out his scheme.
He rapidly explained to the man what was required of him, and was delighted to find how quickly it was understood, and how eager the Hausa was to assist him. Then they slid down the slope, and while Gambaru hid amid the rushes near the bend, Royce hurried to John, waiting beneath the bridge.
"Six or seven Tubus will come on to the bridge," he said. "When they have just passed the middle, but before any of them have got to the other side, cut all the ropes I have left uncut. You understand?"
"Savvy all same, sah," said John, his eyes gleaming, his lips parted in a wide grin. "Dey go plop!"
"Then run back as fast as you can and join me. There will be other work for you."
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.
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.
Three-parts of the column of captives had meanwhile been left unguarded. But the wretched creatures marched slowly on. Roped together, men and women, with their captors before and behind, they did not dream of attempting to escape. They were too weary and listless to feel any curiosity about the brief noise ahead of them. There was nothing to flash a gleam of hope into their dejected minds.
The first gang of them, a full score in number, dragged their tired feet round the bend. Their heads were downcast, but a sudden exclamation from John caused some of them to look up in startled surprise. Among them were Kulana and three others of Royce's carriers.
John instantly slit the rope that fastened the first couple by the neck, and, passing along the line, set the prisoners free one after another. Dejection gave way to joy, silence to shouts and laughter.
"Take those rifles and spears," said Royce to his men, pointing to the weapons of the Tubus who had been laid low. "Kulana, tell these prisoners to stand aside by the river bank and keep quiet."
All this had been done out of sight of the rest of the column. In a few minutes the second gang came up. These were liberated like the first; there were three more of Royce's Hausas among them.
Again there was an interval; then the third gang appeared, and Royce thrilled with delight when he saw Challis among them.
"Here I am, old man," he called.
Challis smiled feebly, and Royce was shocked to see the change in his friend. His cheeks were pale and haggard, his eyes sunken and unnaturally bright; his figure shrunken and bent.
"I'm nearly done for," he murmured, as Royce released him.
"Poor old chap! But we'll soon have you right again. Just rest here until we have finished our job. John, get some water for Massa Chally."
He supported Challis to the foot of the grassy slope, and settled him comfortably there. Then he returned to the bend.
In due order the rest of the prisoners came along, with the last two members of the escort. When these had been dealt with, only the six men of the rearguard remained to be disposed of.
Wishing to avoid a fight, Royce considered how to complete his work. There would not be time to disarm each of the men in turn as they came round the bend. An idea occurred to him. He ordered the whole party of released prisoners to dispose themselves amid the tall rushes along the river bank, and the Hausas to carry down the fallen Tubus. He himself assisted Challis to reach a place of concealment. Thus, when the rearguard rounded the bend, there was no one in sight along the open path.
The Tubus halted in amazement when their eyes fell on the broken bridge. They looked this way and that in search of the prisoners, and Royce, watching them through the rushes, feared that they might turn tail and retreat. But after a few minutes they hastened forward, scanning the farther bank to see if by some unknown means the prisoners had been able to cross the river.
When they had almost reached the bridge-head, Royce stepped quickly from his hiding-place with the armed Hausas, and ordered John to call to the Tubus. At the shout they swung round, and saw facing them a white man and seven Hausas covering them with rifles.
John called to them to surrender and throw down their arms. For a moment they hesitated; then, recognising that between the rifles and the river there was no escape, they cast their own weapons on the ground and made signs of submission.
At Royce's instruction John ordered them to move away along the bank of the river. Then six of the Hausas advanced, took their rifles, and returned. And then the whole band of liberated prisoners sprang up from among the rushes, and the place rang with their shouts of delight.
