I was dressed and armed in a few minutes. The bugle sounded the alarm,
and "The Forty" fell into position.
I heard the bugles at head-quarters, together with a confused din of
native drums, horns, and yells. The first shots had appeared to proceed
from the sentries, but these were shortly succeeded by heavy file-firing
from the whole force at the camp. An attack had evidently been made, and
a regular fight was going on: it was therefore to be expected that my
small force would soon have to act on the defensive. Spare ammunition
was quickly in readiness, and we were well prepared.
In the mean time, a general action was growing hotter every moment; the
yells of the natives and the din of their horns became louder. I was
momentarily expecting to hear the sound of cannon, and I was speculating
upon the effect that the fire of ten guns loaded with case shot would
have among such a crowd of enemies; but to my astonishment not a gun was
fired. Simply the roll of musketry continued.
In about half an hour the native yells grew fainter, the noise of their
horns and drums was reduced, and the heavy firing dwindled to dropping
shots. I heard the bugles sound "cease firing." I then heard "the
advance." Again firing commenced, this time in volleys; then I heard
once more "cease firing," and then "the retreat:" the attack was
repulsed.
I could not understand why my little station had not been attacked; but
I subsequently heard that the natives were more afraid of the "Forty
Thieves" than of the entire force. Added to this was the powerful reason
that I had only a few cows for milk, while the attraction of many
thousand head of cattle induced an attack on the camp at Gondokoro.
On the following morning before sunrise I rode up to camp to hear the
news. It appeared that the natives had actually surprised the sentries.
We had lost a corporal, killed; and a lieutenant and one soldier were
wounded by arrows.
The Baris and the Loquia had attacked in large force with the intention
of burning the station, as many were provided with flaming firebrands,
with which they had advanced bravely to the edge of the thorn fence. Had
the station not been protected by this defence it is probable that the
enemy might have succeeded in firing the houses.
As usual, the troops had fired badly. Such a fusilade as I had heard
should have covered the plain with dead. The officers and men declared
that great numbers of the enemy were killed, but their comrades had
carried off the bodies. This was true to a certain extent, as I saw
blood in many directions, and we found one Loquia lying dead with two
bullet wounds, through the head and thigh.
There can be no doubt that the camp was surprised through the neglect of
the patrol and the sleepiness of sentries, and it was only saved by the
thorn fence and the fire of so large a force as 1,100 men.
