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Updated: May 17, 2025
It was a contest between a pair of high-powered field glasses and the eyesight of a native. Vainly Wilmshurst wiped the lenses and looked and looked again without being able to satisfy himself that Bela Moshi's statement was correct. "Here, you boy!" said the sergeant addressing Tari Barl. "You come here an' use yer eyes all one time quick. Say who am white man on der black horse."
Bela Moshi was smart with the machine-gun, too, while for scouting and tracking work there were few who equalled him. The regiment was father and mother to the ebon warrior, while of all the officers Wilmshurst was his special favourite. The subaltern realised it but could give no reason for Bela Moshi's preferential treatment; not that Wilmshurst had gone out of his way to favour the man.
"As things are going it reminds me of that kid's game 'Ring-a-ring-o'-Roses' simply barging round and round and getting no forrarder." "Dashed smart chap that servant of yours, Wilmshurst," remarked Laxdale, after the subaltern had related the story of Bela Moshi's devotion. "And how is he progressing?" "Splendidly, according to Dr. Barkley's latest report," replied Dudley.
Crouching on the enormous limb Bela Moshi remained motionless for a few moments a patch of huddled black and khaki hardly distinguishable from the sun-baked bark. Then he dropped lightly to the ground and by a movement of his arms signalled to some of the Haussas to approach. "By Jove, Bela Moshi's found him!" exclaimed Danvers, and the three subalterns hurried to the spot.
At the warning shot the retiring enemy stopped short almost in the jaws of the trap that awaited them; then at a hot pace they disappeared into the bush to be swallowed up in the rapidly deepening night. "Find out who fired that shot, sergeant," ordered Wilmshurst. Bela Moshi's efforts were unavailing. Even when the platoon was paraded and every man's rifle examined the culprit was not discovered.
Already one of the men had cut away Bela Moshi's tunic, revealing a bullet wound on the right side of the chest. Even as Dudley placed his water-bottle to the sergeant's lips the Haussa's eyes closed and he lost consciousness. "What do you make of it?" asked Dudley, addressing the man attending to the patient. "He's as like to snuff it, sir," he replied.
"And if we come out of this business alive I'll see that Bela Moshi's case is reported to the proper quarter," declared Dudley. "The only thing against him is the want of water," said the corporal. "I'd risk getting plugged for the sake of a couple of bottles of water. How about the well, sir?"
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