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Through the buzz of insects there came from the forest, gradually blending over wide distances, a gentle throbbing. The porters lifted their round heads beyond the fires. The sharp profiles of the askaris were motionless. A wail floated over the camp: "The drums of the Mambava!" The throbbing died away. But soon it began again in the north, then in the south, and swelled to a continuous rumbling.
Kingozi stared indifferently into the distance; but as each gift was added to the others he reached forward to touch it as a sign of acceptance. Their burdens deposited, they took their places in front of the ranks of the warriors. "Am I supposed to speak?" asked the Leopard Woman. "Surely." "Shouldn't we order out our askaris with their guns to make the parade?" "No.
With a bottle of spirits by his side von Argerlich sprawled upon a camp bed, while in the absence of mosquito curtain two lean Askaris, terrified by the Hun's drunken outburst, were diligently fanning him with broad leaves of a palm, knowing that if their efforts relaxed or developed into greater zeal than the hauptmann desired, the schambok awaited them.
By midnight all was prepared. The porters lay beside their loads, ready to swing them aloft at a moment's notice. The armed askaris loitered between the balance of the safari and the Arab village, ready to form a rear guard for the retreat that was to begin the moment that the head man brought that which the white masters awaited.
Thus it was he had earned the name by which he was known from Zanzibar to Berbera, "He-who-slays-lions-with-the-knife," had earned the envy and hatred of the fat white man and the Arabs, the boundless admiration of the Swahili askaris, hunters and porters, and the deep dog-like affection of Moussa Isa....
Up sprang the curved line of khaki-clad troopers, each man covering one of the enemy with his rifle, while a stern order to surrender immediately was given to the completely astonished Germans. The Askaris obeyed the command without demur, but the Germans were made of stiffer material. Throwing themselves at full length they grasped their rifles.
The village headman revealed the news of the wilds, which had been transmitted from tribe to tribe by native travelers, or by the far-carrying beat of wooden gongs. A safari, passing to the north, had penetrated the land of the Mambava. In that safari there were two white men and many askaris. They had now journeyed through the forests of the people of Muene-Motapa.
In this predicament the Askaris halted and faced about. Already the Haussas were astride the first trench and interlocked with the nearmost of their foes, the while a German machine gun was playing on the combatants with the delightful impartiality that a Hun displays to save his own hide. Temporarily the Haussas' charge was checked. The machine gun was playing havoc with them.
Her English was faultless, but some slight unusual spacing of the words, some ultra-clarity of pronunciation, rather than a recognizable accent, made evident that the language was not her own. "Your askaris are slack," said Kingozi briefly. "And how of these?" she demanded imperiously, sweeping with an almost theatrical gesture the miserable-looking group of hammock bearers.
The clearness of the atmosphere rendered his task lighter, while the change of weather would tend to keep the Askaris within their lines. Even German military despotism could not conquer the native levies' dread of a thunderstorm.
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