Altogether Hatibu was not so pleased with his present as I had expected him to be, and it was not long before I found out the reasons. He had enough ivory and stores to form loads for nearly all his party; but if to carrying this was added the work of watching these slaves, and possibly defending ourselves against the attacks of their friends, he did not see how we could manage to get in safety to Hamees ibu Sayf’s camp. Soon his anxiety was increased by a message from Mona Mkulla, which was nothing more nor less than a demand for an adequate present in return for his gift; failing this, he was to remain until his master could send to free him.

Hatibu consulted long and eagerly with his followers, and decided that the best thing he could do would be to send messengers to Hamees ibu Sayf to inform him of our position. He resolved also to get all the men he had left at our old camp to this place, so that, in the event of any difficulty arising with the natives, the whole party should be united, and not attacked and defeated in detail.

Mona Mkulla came several times to see Hatibu, attended only by a few spearmen and his dwarfs, by whom we never saw him unattended. He begged Hatibu very hard to give up the guns of the party, saying that these would be an ample return for the present he had made. To this request, which was simply one to render ourselves defenceless against the overwhelming numbers of the natives, Hatibu very naturally returned a refusal. As soon as the messengers had been sent away he employed the remainder of his men and the slaves Mona Mkulla had given him in constructing a camp at a short distance from the village. There we would be better able to defend ourselves from attack than if we remained scattered about in the village and mixed up with the people, and able to prevent being surprised and overpowered separately.

The place chosen was a small open bit of grass in the forest, where a small spring afforded a supply of water, and where, when the position and shape of our camp was decided upon, we should have a clear distance of at least a hundred and fifty yards between its boundary and the nearest trees.

The grass, which was over ten feet high and nearly dry, was burned down, and all hands laboured hard at forming the camp. I had often during my life in Africa admired the way in which the negro runs up a shelter from sun and storm and a defence against human enemies and wild beasts; but never had I seen such wonderful work as was done by these men from Zanzibar, all experienced travellers, to whom the building of huts and making a boma or fence round them was a portion of their every-day work.

At first they contented themselves with building a simple lean-to circle of branches open towards the interior, but by constant additions of large branches and small trees it soon became a most formidable fence. When this was completed, small platforms for the watchers were built at intervals, and protected with logs, so that those occupying them would be secure from spears and arrows, and command with their muskets all the approaches to the camp.

As soon as these necessary works had been completed, we set to work to collect corn, sweet potatoes, ground-nuts, and other provisions. These we buried as soon as we had got them, together with our ivory and other things which we did not want the people to be constantly seeing; for they were most persevering beggars, and even at times, when refused anything on which they had set their fancy, became very threatening in their manner.

Mona Mkulla often came to beg for muskets and ammunition, and also to ask if Hatibu had any more shell ornaments. Some of these latter Hatibu parted with, receiving in return fowls and goats and quantities of unripe plantains. Some days passed in this way, and we were becoming very anxious for the safety of the men we had sent away and those left behind in our old camp. Every day we saw armed men passing about, who several times seemed as if they desired to surprise our camp. Some came into it in twos and threes, gradually raising their numbers. Sometimes these unwelcome visitors were most overbearing in their manners, evidently seeking a pretext for a quarrel; but Hatibu kept his men under perfect control, and avoided all collision with them, though at the same time he let it be seen that he was prepared to resist to the utmost any overt acts of hostility.

Still no news of our companions, and we feared that they must have been surprised and killed. Hatibu, seeing that we were virtually prisoners, and might expect to be attacked at any moment, summoned his men to a consultation one night after the camp was closed. I was by this time beginning to understand what they said, and soon found that there were two parties. One said we had best remain where we were, and, if attacked, defend ourselves to the best of our ability; for sooner or later Hamees ibu Sayf would be sure to hear of the position we were in and come to our rescue. Others urged that it would be best to leave the camp at night, and, taking with us as much food as we could carry, hiding in the jungle in the day-time, and avoiding villages as much as possible, make our way towards Hamees ibu Sayf’s position.

This latter proposition did not commend itself to Hatibu. He said by doing so we should have not only to abandon the ivory we had, but the men we had left at the other camp would certainly be set upon as soon as it was known that we had left without Mona Mkulla’s leave. News would be sent by drums to all the surrounding country much quicker than we could travel, and all the paths would be beset.

The justice of his arguments was after some discussion acknowledged by all; but it was pointed out that when our companions from the old camp reached us there would be more mouths to feed, and that the slaves Mona Mkulla had given us would only eat food and be useless in assisting in the defence of our camp.

Hatibu was much struck by this, and sat silently thinking some moments; then he broke out, saying, “Shauri nduguye, brothers, the words are good: to-morrow the slaves shall find food, and they will say that we want it for them. When night comes, and all men sleep, and only beasts are awake, we will send them into the jungle and into the wilderness. We will put words into their mouths, and they will go unto Hamees ibu Sayf, the great master, and unto their own people, and their brothers and fathers will join with Hamees ibu Sayf. Then they will come all together and eat up Mona Mkulla and his men, his spears and his shields, and the master will find much ivory. Say, my brothers, men of the island, men of Unguja,[B] are not my words words of counsel and of truth?”

Hatibu’s words were taken by all as being wise. He immediately called up the slaves, who were lying roped together near a fire in the middle of the camp, and spoke to them. Some said they did not know anything about Hamees ibu Sayf’s camp. These, five in number, Hatibu said he would keep until the last moment, as we could easily turn them out of the camp when we found supplies were refused to us, and in the meantime they could be usefully employed in adding to our stores of food and firewood. Some of the others said that they knew where Ibu Sayf’s camp was, and that Tipolo, as the natives called him, was a good man, and when he had once passed his word he kept it. Others said that they had heard of him, and that their people would join their forces to his to come and attack Mona Mkulla, and revenge themselves for the many wars he had made against them.

From the slaves themselves, now they had prospects of regaining their freedom, we had many valuable suggestions. One of the most important was that, instead of sending them all off at once, they should go away by twos and threes, and so no notice would be taken of their absence. As they very truly said, the escape of a slave or two was far too ordinary an occurrence to occasion any surprise; and small parties of men would be able to travel through the country with less fear of discovery than larger ones.

This was all agreed to, and three of them were allowed to go at once, bearing with them tokens from Hatibu, and a few words scratched on a banana leaf—for paper we had none—acquainting Tipolo with our position, and begging him to come to our assistance without delay.

This having been done, it was wonderful to see how the spirits of all of us, which had been much depressed, seemed to revive. Instead of the conversation round the camp-fires turning, as it usually had done, upon when we might expect to be attacked, and how long we might hold out, it was now principally of how much ivory and how many slaves might fall to the share of each of us in the war with Mona Mkulla. Some indeed went so far as to speak of the way in which they would set up as independent traders, and how, after making much money, they would build a stone house in their much-loved Unguja.

For the next few days nothing of importance occurred. The slaves whom we liberated got away without any apparent notice being taken by our enemies; but we found that the collecting and storing of provisions became more and more difficult, and that we were constantly subjected to insults by the natives. At last one day one of our men was struck by one of the smaller chiefs who had been most hostile to us at the great meeting where we had first seen Mona Mkulla. Our man retaliated, and he and four others who were with him were set on by the people, and escaped only by showing a firm front and by using their muskets. When they came into camp they reported that they had killed some of the natives, among them the principal aggressor, and had themselves been wounded by spears and arrows.

Fortunately none of the wounds was serious, and they would not prevent the men from assisting to repel the attack on our camp, which had now become imminent. On the same evening we heard the drums of all the neighbouring villages beating, and just before sunset we heard the sound of musketry. This could only proceed from people who would be our friends, and most probably from the men we had left at the other camp, so, though our ammunition was very precious, we fired two shots, and two more about five minutes after. This Hatibu said was a signal that any of Tipolo’s men would understand if they heard it.

Our little party now manned the platforms which we had built, and looked out anxiously for any signs of friends; for we could not tell whether the firing came from those we had left in the old camp, or from a party of Hamees ibu Sayf’s men coming to our assistance.

The firing was kept up, and evidently was drawing nearer to us, but so straggling and ill-sustained that it was soon evident it could proceed from but few men. Even at dark it was still kept up.

We waited for some time, hoping that the darkness would enable our men to get away from their enemies and make towards us. Though for some time they came nearer, and we were in momentary expectation of their coming into the open space where our camp was, we heard them pass by at one end of it; and as evidently they had missed it, Hatibu gave orders for signal shots to be again fired.

In a few moments we could hear the people drawing closer as well as firing—could make out the shouts and yells of men fighting, and soon we saw the flashes of muskets. Hatibu now ordered to set on fire some large piles of dry grass which he had caused to be prepared for this purpose. When our friends saw the light they rushed for it, and came running across the open closely pursued by their enemies. By the flare of the fires we could fortunately distinguish friend from foe, and opening a place in our fence we were able to admit eleven men and save them from their pursuers, who were close upon them. Not caring to come within the circle of light, the natives contented themselves with shooting arrows from the limits of the darkness.

As soon as the fence was closed we extinguished the fires, for they now only served to show us to the natives. Some still remained on guard, others crowded round the new-comers to learn what their news was. They proved to be all that remained of the men we had left behind at our old camp. They said that for some time after we left all went well, but at last men came bringing a knife which they knew belonged to Hatibu. They said he had given it as a token to show that the message came from him, and that he said they were to come to him at once, as he had got a great store of slaves and ivory, and intended going direct to Nyangwe without returning to them. They fell at once into the trap, packed up all their things, and with the slaves and ivory set out to join us.

At first all went well with them, and the people who had brought the knife showed them the road, and acted so as to disarm all suspicion. Suddenly, however, that very afternoon, while passing through a thick and marshy piece of jungle, their guides darted into the trees, and they found themselves surrounded and attacked by a large body of men. In the first moments of their surprise they could do little to defend themselves, and their foes being sheltered by the trees, they could not get a sight at them so as to fire with any effect.

Any idea of saving ivory or goods was never entertained for a moment, and they all pressed forward towards a part where the trees seemed less thick and the ground was firmer. There, forming themselves into a circle, they prepared to sell their lives as dearly as possible. According to their account, of Zanzibar men there were then twenty-three. Among these fortunately were the fourteen who alone of the whole number were armed with muskets, the remainder having been struck down by the first volleys of spears and arrows which had been showered on them.

They were able to make a stand, and, soon after, they heard the muskets we had fired for the first signal; and knowing that some of Hamees ibu Sayf’s men must have fired them, they endeavoured to make their way in our direction. While in comparatively open ground they were able to make good headway; but in the thicker jungle their enemies closed in on them, and one after another fell beneath the spears and arrows of their assailants. Once a man was down he was abandoned; to have waited to assist him would have been only to share his fate. Once or twice they came to grassy patches; but in these they fared even worse than in the thick jungle, for grass to the height of ten or twelve feet was so thick and strong that it would support the weight of a man leaning against it. They were forced to follow the narrow tracks by which the natives made their way from village to village. As they were hurrying across the first of these, thinking that they could only be met by men in single file like themselves, they were suddenly attacked by men ambushed in spaces cut out of the grass, and separated and hidden from the path by a screen about two feet thick of grass which had been left standing. Nothing but the energy of despair enabled them to break through the men who here opposed them. Here alone they lost six of their number.

After this the jungle was fortunately more open, and as they were able to use their muskets they kept off their assailants. Coming to another grassy patch they determined to try to go round it to avoid the risk of another ambush, and found they were quite right in this, for when they got to the other side a large body of men came out of the grass and hurried after them.

Fighting and firing they kept on their way. When darkness began to set in, and they did not find our camp, their hearts sank within them; but the sound of our second signal fell upon their ears like news from heaven, and, pursued by their relentless foes, they made a rush for our camp. How they got there they could scarcely say. All were wounded. Those seriously hurt having fallen into the hands of the enemy, their fate could not be doubtful; but those who had escaped had only what we considered wounds of little consequence.