Tom sternly bade the man climb the tree before him and hide in the foliage. "Good heavens!" he thought, "if they all turn out like this coward!" But he refused to harbour such a thought, remembering their conduct during the siege. He climbed the tree after the man, waited some twenty minutes, and then saw, fifty yards away among the trees, the head of the Arab column coming slowly along the path. The way was led by half a dozen stalwart Arabs armed with rifles, walking warily, looking right and left for signs of the enemy. They passed, and were followed by fifty Manyema armed with rifles and axes; beyond these he could not see. They came cautiously along; they passed down the main path, silently, watchfully, but without throwing out skirmishers. There was a gap of two hundred yards, and then came the main column of Manyema, armed for the most part with spears. They were marching close behind one another, and Tom's plan was to allow them to occupy the mile and a half on the main track between his tree and the stockade, and then to fall upon them while crowded into this narrow tunnel through the forest. He counted fourteen hundred of the Manyema; there was another gap; then, just as the head of the force of turbaned Arabs was emerging into view, armed with rifles and pistols of various make, a shot from the direction of the stockade announced that the obstacle had been discovered. Dropping from his perch, Tom gave the long-awaited signal to his men waiting in ambush, and an irregular fire broke out down the line of men scattered under cover along the parallel track. The musketeers numbered only about two hundred in all, but Tom reckoned on the surprise counting for a good deal, and the puffs of smoke leaping out from the brushwood at various points, with the clash of explosions, and the demoralizing effect of the hand-grenades, impressed the startled Arabs with the idea that a much larger force than their own was opposed to them.
The surprise was complete. Met by a musket-fire and a discharge of spears and arrows from behind the stockade, the Manyema could not advance; on their left flank there was evidently a well-armed force in ambush; on their right was thick forest, in which they could only find shelter by cutting a way. They halted irresolutely, seeking cover wherever they could. Slugs whizzed through the air and slapped against the trees; the firing of bullets was heard as the rifle-armed Manyema fired erratically at their invisible enemy. But after the first shock they pulled themselves together, and soon realized that they possessed better weapons than their adversaries. They began to move forward again towards the stockade, and Tom, passing down the line, saw that it was time to strike home. Ordering his men on the path to stand firm, he hurried to the stockade, upon which the Manyema had not as yet ventured to make a serious attack. He instructed a party of the musketeers to keep up a steady fire so long as there was no danger of hitting their friends; then, placing himself at the head of the remainder, he led them round the left of the position, and, forcing his way through the thinnest part of the scrub, with a cheer charged down upon the Arab column. The Bahima followed him, raising their sonorous battle-cry. This was too much for the already demoralized enemy. Finding themselves attacked both in their front and on their flanks, the Manyema lost heart, and, turning their backs, began to push along the path in full retreat.