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Updated: June 12, 2025
"Macgreg, him go," declared one of the Haussas, Macgreg being the name by which the Rhodesian was known to the black troops. Wilmshurst was astonished. He had heard nothing of the scout's movements, yet the sentry, fifty yards away, had declared quite blandly that MacGregor had passed the outlying post. "How do you know that, Brass Pot?" asked the subaltern.
MacGregor, Laxdale, and Danvers were on ahead, Spofforth and Wilmshurst about fifty paces behind, Bela Moshi with the cub was close on Dudley's heels, while the Haussas with the dead panther were some distance in the rear, the blacks carrying the officers' rifles since the hunters were clear of the bush.
"Thought I did," he replied, "but I must have been mistaken." Giving the cub into the care of Bela Moshi, Wilmshurst followed his companions as they tramped in single file along the narrow bush track, the Haussas tailing on to the end of the procession. The edge of the bush was almost reached when Laxdale, with a splendid shot at a hundred and twenty yards, brought down a large panther.
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.
Setting a guard over the prisoners Dudley sent a file of Haussas to explore the dug-out. In less than a minute the corporal returned. "Number one big hole, sah," he reported. "Me no find no one time man in no place." As a result of this somewhat mystifying intelligence Wilmshurst entered the dug-out.
Meanwhile other columns were on the track of the raiders, who, but for the vigilance and dogged determination of Lieutenant Sutton, would have "wiped out" the Waffs' bivouac during the latter's wild-goose chase. For five hours the young officer, assisted by Second-lieutenant Vipont and a handful of Haussas, held the Huns at bay.
Fired with anger at the futile ending to their tedious efforts the Haussas sent a deputation to the young officer offering to search the bush in the direction from which the shot came, for the men of the extreme left flank were emphatic in their belief that they heard the sounds of booted feet after the report. "Off you go, then," replied Wilmshurst. "Hurry back if you hear the 'Fall in."
Hardly were these preparations completed when, with a terrific roar and a tremendous cloud of dust, an explosive missile burst within two hundred yards of the platoon's position. "Dash it all!" ejaculated Wilmshurst. "That's a thundering big shell. Keep down, men." The Haussas in natural and childlike curiosity were craning their necks to see the unexpected sight.
At the sight of their young officer for it was the first time for several weeks that Wilmshurst had appeared on parade a streak of dazzling ivory started and stretched from end to end of the line as the Haussas' mouths opened wide in welcoming smiles, displaying a lavish array of teeth that contrasted vividly with their ebony features.
Having taken proper precautions against a surprise counter-attack, although such a step was unlikely in view of the demoralization of the defeated force, Wilmshurst directed his attention to the object of the expedition the saving of the seaplane. West African natives are as a rule good carpenters and blacksmiths, and the Haussas were no exception.
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