Across the Cameroons (Paperback)

Excerpt: ..."After that we may either find some place more suitable for defence, or else die in our tracks." "We can die fighting," said the younger guide. "Well, then," said Harry, "every minute counts. If we can get through we may be able to cover some miles before dawn is upon us. We must hold together, however. There will be no time to go back to look for one who is lost." They now prepared themselves to make this last and desperate bid for freedom. They played for the highest stakes, for liberty and life. They could not advance, however, without acquainting Peter Klein of their intention, and when the man was told of what they proposed to do he set to shaking in his limbs. Harry was in no mood to humour him. He had long since lost all patience with their uninvited guest. "You have two minutes," said he, "in which to choose. Either you come with us, or stay here, or else you can go over to the enemy. It does not matter very much to us which you decide to do." The man picked up his rifle. He tried to speak, and stuttered. He was incoherent from fear, though it was his own countrymen who opposed them. German and German-trained native troops were in the valley in about equal numbers. "What am I to do?" he asked. "Remain at my side," said Harry. "Do not fire until I tell you to. We are going to creep as near to the enemy as we can, and then charge through together." Klein said nothing, but they heard the bolt of his rifle shake in his hand. Then all five began to crawl down the hill, picking their way carefully over the stones, advancing as stealthily as possible. The enemy's fire had somewhat abated. Perhaps they also--true to the traditions of the Prussian army--contemplated an assault. Instead of the continuous rattle of musketry that had lasted for so long, only an occasional shot resounded in the valley. Inch by inch, they drew nearer to the enemy's position, and when not twenty yards from the place where a German officer was shouting hoarse, guttural...