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Updated: May 23, 2025
Ulrich, ten thousand pardons, but in two years a man is apt to alter, especially in these strenuous times. Has anything happened that you have been compelled to drop your Scottish name? Let me think. Ach! I have it. MacGregor, was it not?" Ulrich von Gobendorff shook his head. "Nothing compelled me, Max," he replied. "The time was ripe therefore Robert MacGregor is no more.
"Can you get clear of the colony?" he asked. "Every frontier is guarded, while since the Jaguar succeeded in running her cargo of quick-firers ashore even the coast is rigidly patrolled by those accursed English cruisers." "Give me a dozen native carriers, rifles and ammunition, and I'll wager that before another fortnight I'll be in Rhodesia," declared von Gobendorff.
This task having been completed von Gobendorff noticed with a certain amount of apprehension that the freeboards betwixt the edge of the gaping hole and the water was less than four inches. In the excitement of the encounter the Hun had overlooked the fact that already the canoe was within the influence of the rapids.
By the bye, have you heard anything lately of your brother, Ernst?" "Not for many months," replied Ulrich von Gobendorff. "The last time I received indirect tidings that he was doing good work in England. It will take a very smart man to catch Ernst. He is one of the most wily Secret Service Agents in the employ of the German Imperial Government."
As the sun sank von Gobendorff collected a heap of wood and leaves and kindled a fire. For the present he judged that he was practically free from pursuit. In any case he would take the risk of lighting a fire. It was not likely that British patrols would be wandering through the dense tropical vegetation during the hours of darkness.
The grilling operation in progress the fire-tender ran to the canoe to return with a couple of small gourds of water, some dried berries somewhat resembling coffee beans and a flat cake of mealie bread. Von Gobendorff soon discovered that the natives had been serving in the German outpost at G'henge, a position overrun and captured by a Sikh battalion about three months previously.
Ground will be cool enough by then, I reckon." "Von Gobendorff won't stand much chance in that," remarked another, indicating the devastated ground. "We may find his remains. That'll be some satisfaction." "Unless he started the fire," added Wilmshurst. "But we were surrounding his hiding-place," declared the first speaker. "We believe we were," continued the subaltern.
Under the temporarily exhilarating effect of the rank spirit they were beginning to forget their physical exhaustion. "To be on the safe side," continued von Gobendorff, "it will be necessary for me to get as far away from the Nth-West African Regiment as I can. I presume that you have no objection to my leaving you, Herr Oberst?" Von Lindenfelt grunted assent.
Caught by the full force of the current the dug-out swung round, crashed against the tree and, listing, was immediately swamped by the inrush of water. Von Gobendorff leapt to safety. With cat-like agility he swarmed up the inclined bank. Here he stood and waited, watching the efforts of the two natives to save themselves.
Without the need of further aid from the Birwas he was now within measurable distance of the Karewenda Hills. Another six hours ought to find him in at least the temporary shelter of the German fortified post of Twashi. With a sardonic expression on his face von Gobendorff waited and watched. For a full five minutes the grim struggle was maintained. The trapped Birwa's strength was fast failing.
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