"If you must be serious, I don't think your notion of an immediate dash is a good one. The men have had a lot of hard marching, and we ought to give them a good rest--a full day, at any rate."
"I dare say that would be wise, but the worst of it is that it will give time for that crowd outside to grow still bigger, and the chances of our getting through them safely will be slighter than ever."
"But remember they've got to eat, as well as we, and the more there are of them the worse their position. The country we came through was practically barren, and when they have used up the food they have with them they'll have to range about for more. That'll be our chance. I vote we sit tight for a while."
"All right. Here's Said with our supper: what is it to-night, khansaman?"
"I suffer pangs, sir, in serving gents with such slops, et cetera, but cupboard is bare, sir, to quote classic of Mother Hubbard; all I can provide for sustenance is cassava bread, beans, and bovril. Incredulity of native mind, sir, is as colossal as credulity. Carved wooden stick is a devil right enough: but when I tell them my little brown bottle contains concentrated essence of stall-fed ox, lo! they grin all over their mug and ask where are its four legs."
"That's rather a good thing, for they won't envy us our supper. We shall do very well, as long as it lasts."
"Ah, sir, I remember the beautiful words of Dr. Johnson, great lexicographer: 'And every moment makes my little less.' Hunger is the best sauce, sir, but it does not fill the saucepan."
This night, like the last, was undisturbed. On the afternoon of the next day, when John had ceased to look for any offensive movement on the part of the enemy, he saw a great crowd of them issue from the wood, and come yelling across the ground towards the causeway.
"Hallo! They're getting desperate," he said to Ferrier. He immediately brought up all the men who had firearms and placed them at the gap in the wall, bidding them keep under cover and fire when he gave the word. The yelling horde were met by a volley just as they reached the landward end of the causeway; but though several men dropped it did not check the rush, and John concluded from their intense excitement that they had been stimulating their courage with fermented liquor. Some sprang on to the causeway, and began to run across it; others took to the water, which soon swarmed with black heads moving towards the fort. The garrison fired as fast as they could reload, but the men rushing in single file along the causeway did not present a good target, and the swimmers were far too numerous to be dealt with by a dropping fire from the wall. The defenders in their turn were how the mark for a fusillade from the further shore of the pool, where several Swahilis had taken up their position, finding a little shelter in the reeds, and doing their best to cover the attack of the natives. John looked eagerly among them for the big form of Juma, resolving if he saw him to pick him off; the fall of their leader might demoralize or dishearten the rest. But Juma never came in sight; apparently he was directing the movement from a place of safety in the rear.