Royce and Challis met at the foot of the hill.
"Splendid, old man!" said the former, gripping his friend by the hand. "I had almost given you up, and my men were in a frightful state of depression."
"Not more depressed than I was," rejoined Challis with a smile. "I was depressed sixteen feet below ground! But I'll tell you all about that presently. Give your men a good feed out of the reserve provisions we have brought. I'll send my lot out to prevent the Tubus from reuniting; then we'll talk things over."
Challis sent three-fourths of his force into the forest and the surrounding country, with orders to check any attempt of the scattered Tubus to combine. Meanwhile Royce's men revelled in what was, after their privations, a sumptuous feast.
While they were eating Royce and Challis attended to the few wounded.
"It's extraordinary, that so few have been lost on either side," said Challis. "It's almost a bloodless victory. The Tubus have been vastly over-rated. They seem more ready to bunk than to fight."
"The explanation is simple enough," said Royce. "They have never met with organised opposition before. They have had it all their own way, and kept the negroes down by the sheer terror of their name. Their power is gone for good now."
"I'm not sure of that," returned Challis. "Goruba is still at large. He was bowled over when he charged my pikemen, but he couldn't have been much hurt, for he got clean away."
"That's a pity. If we had collared him our victory would have been complete. None of your men saw which way he went?"
"They didn't say so."
"If we could only find out, we might pursue him. So long as he is at large, he is a danger; he may rally the fugitives, and when they have got over their fright they will be a far more formidable enemy to tackle."
"Well, let us round up some horses, in case we get word of him. We'll probably find a good many in the woods."
"A good idea. Some of the Hausas can ride—I will send them."
He selected half-a-dozen of the Hausas, including Gambaru and Kulana, and sent them under John's command to bring in any horses they might find within a short distance of the fort. While they were gone, Challis related the incident of his fall into the pit.
"But for John's disobedience I should never have got out," he concluded. "We owe a good deal to the devotion of our men, Hugh."
"We do, indeed, and it shan't go unrewarded. The way they have stuck to us is magnificent."
After about an hour, John and his party returned, riding on captured horses and leading others. They also brought several Tubu prisoners, tied to their saddles. John was evidently much excited.
"Goruba, sah!" he cried, springing from his horse. "Him run away."
"We know that," said Royce. "Which way did he go? Did you see him?"
"No see him, sah. Hah! Him berry clebber chap, sah, Gamba feel very bad, sure 'nuff."
"Who is Gamba? What do you mean?" Royce asked.
John drew forward one of the prisoners, a tall young negro slightly wounded in the thigh.
"Dis Gamba, sah," John went on. "Him say Goruba pull him off horse, knock him boko, sah. Goruba get a horse, run away all same. Gamba berry mad; what for Goruba run away, not him? Him Tubu, Goruba no Tubu; make him berry mad, sah."
John did not explain himself very clearly; but, after questioning him patiently, Royce made out that when Gamba was about to ride away Goruba pulled him from the saddle, struck him on the head, and galloped away on his horse.
Gamba resented this. He had always disliked Goruba as a stranger who had wormed his way into the confidence of the Tubu chief, and whose rise to power had awakened the jealousy of many of the tribe. He blamed Goruba, too, for the misfortunes which had lately befallen the community, and had a personal grudge against him for appropriating his horse and preventing him from fleeing to safety.
"Which way did Goruba ride?" asked Royce.
Gamba explained that Goruba had ridden northwards towards the Yo, probably to fetch reinforcements large enough to crush the Englishmen's party.
"He has got a good start," said Royce to Challis. "but there's just a chance we may catch him if we go at once."
"Especially if this fellow will guide us," said Challis.
In spite of his wound, Gamba was eager to lead the chase of the man he hated. Accordingly, Royce and Challis mounted and, accompanied by the Tubu and their six Hausas, cantered away towards the north. John, much to his disappointment, was left behind in command of the men.
As they rode on, the Englishmen got more information from Gamba, Kalana interpreting. It turned out that he was a nephew of the childless chief of the Tubus, and had expected some day to succeed him, until Goruba appeared on the scene.
Moreover, he had a special affection for the horse of which he had been deprived. It was the fastest horse owned by the tribe, and Goruba had long coveted it. He said that if Goruba rode straight for the Yo and crossed it they would never catch him. Their only chance of doing so was that he might be delayed, or halt for some reason or other.
On learning this Royce quickened the pace. Gamba led the party almost due north, through a country which had probably never before been visited by a white man. It was broken, hilly country, for the Yo was still far from the mud flats that mark its entrance into Lake Chad.
They soon had visible proof, in hoof marks, that more than one horseman had recently ridden in front of them. Clearly Goruba was not alone. Gamba dismounted and examined the tracks. He gave a grunt of satisfaction when he discovered the track of his own horse.
When they rode on he seemed to forget that he was following up an important member of his own tribe. All his attention was fixed on recovering his horse and squaring accounts with a personal enemy.
Keenly scanning the trail as he rode, he pointed out every now and then spots where stragglers had joined Goruba, until it was clear that the party with him numbered eight or nine men.
"We needn't bother about them," said Royce. "You boys, go for Goruba. You can't mistake him; he is bigger than the rest. Don't kill him if you can help it; he will be more useful to us alive than dead."
The track was easy to follow, and there was no doubt that Goruba was making straight for the Yo. It was not likely that he had given up the contest, for his treasure was still safe in the underground cave.
Royce hoped that the giant would not meet a raiding party of Tubus before he reached the headquarters of the tribe, for with his few Hausas, armed with rifles though they were, he would be no match for a large band of the negro warriors.
The sun was hot, and the stiff pace at which they rode fatigued the whole party. But Royce pressed on, hoping to make up for the start of more than an hour which Goruba had had.
At last, early in the afternoon, he caught sight of the quarry about two miles ahead, disappearing over the crest of a gentle slope.
The pursuers, who were riding down hill, urged their horses to a gallop. Easing them up the slope, they found when they had reached the top that they had gained nearly half-a-mile on the fugitives, who were apparently unaware of being followed.
From this point onwards the country was a succession of ups and downs like a switchback. The Tubus had disappeared; when next they were sighted, they had almost gained the top of another slope. Royce allowed them to pass from sight over the skyline, then galloped on to gain on them once more.
Hitherto the ground had been fairly open, but it became more wooded as they proceeded. The Tubus were hidden when the pursuers got to the crest of the hill. They gave their horses a breather, and then pushed on at full speed over a rough forest track. Royce was leading with Gamba, Challis and the rest following in single file.
It was impossible to see more than about a hundred yards in front, owing to the winding of the path among the trees. Suddenly the rearmost of the Tubus came into sight about eighty yards ahead. At the same moment he heard the thuds of the pursuers' horses, turned in his saddle, and, shouting with alarm, urged his horse forward.
"After them!" cried Royce, digging his heels into his horse's flanks.
A turn of the path brought the whole nine of the fugitives into view. The path narrowed, so that there was only room for one horseman to ride at a time. The better mounted of the Tubus tried to pass the slower, with the result that some were edged off into the wood on either side, and tried to force their way through the entangling vegetation.
"Never mind about them," cried Royce, who had seen Goruba's huge form galloping ahead of two others.
It was a wild ride. In some places the branches of trees hung down over the path, and the pursuers had to dodge them by bending low on their horses' necks. At other places the path itself was obstructed by fallen boughs and by masses of creepers, so that both pursuers and pursued had the utmost difficulty in avoiding a fall.
Royce, with his eyes fixed on Goruba, narrowly escaped coming a cropper, and was only saved by the sure-footedness of his horse, accustomed to running in this wild forest country. Gambaru was struck from his saddle by an overhanging branch, and Challis, close behind him, pulled up just in time to avoid riding over him.
One of the Tubus riding behind Goruba edged his companion off into the thicket. Royce, close on his heels, shot out his left arm as he passed and threw the man from his seat.
Then, just as his horse was steadily overhauling the man in front, there was a sudden dramatic development.
Goruba glanced round, took the measure of the situation, and drawing a pistol, while still riding at full speed, deliberately shot the horse of his follower. The beast fell with its rider. Royce was unable to check his horse in time; it turned a somersault over the fallen animal, and Royce was shot over its head into a thorn bush several yards away.
The Hausas yelled with alarm and reined up. Challis, forgetting Goruba in his anxiety for his friend, sprang from his horse and ran to assist him as he rose, torn and bleeding, from the merciless thorns.
For a few seconds Royce was too dazed with pain and shock to think or speak. Then, collecting his wits, he said:
"Don't bother about me! After Goruba—don't let him escape."
But Goruba had reckoned on the confusion and delay which his shooting the horse would occasion. By the time that Challis had remounted and dashed on in pursuit, the bold negro was out of sight.