occupied in trying to load his revolver, replied there
was:* “Be sharp, and arm to defend the camp.” This
I immediately did, stepping out in front of his tent;
but though I saw many dusky forms before me, it was
too dark to discern whether they were friend or foe.
Whilst standing, in hesitation how to act, stones
kept whizzing over and around me, and I received a
blow with one in the inside of my knee, which nearly
knocked my leg from under me; it came from the left,
where I had not been looking. I then ran under lee
of the fly of the tent to take a better survey, and, by
stooping low, could perceive the heads of some men
peeping like monkeys over the boxes. Lieutenant Burton
now said, “ Don’t step back, or they will think we
are retiring.” Chagrined by this rebuke at my management
in fighting, and imagining by the remark I was
expected to defend the camp, I stepped boldly to the
front, and fired at close quarters into the first man
before me. He was stooping to get a sight of my
figure in relief against the sky; he fell back at the
discharge, and I saw no more of him. Proceeding on,
I saw some more men also stooping; I fired into the
foremost, and he likewise fell back, but I do not know
that I hit him. I then fired into a third man at close
quarters, who also receded, possibly uninjured, though
* I must here notice, although I have endeavoured to stick as closely
as possible to the narration of my own story in these pages, that I saw
Heme, who had been guarding the rear, opposed to the whole brunt of
the attack, fighting gallantly with his sable antagonists; and from the
resolution with which he fired at them, he must have done some
damage.
I cannot say. I was now close to the brink of the
rising-ground, entirely surrounded by men, when I
placed the muzzle of the Dean & Adams against the
breast of the largest man before me, and pulled the
trigger, but pulled in vain; the cylinder would not
rotate; I imagine a cap had got jammed by the trig-
ger-guard. In a fit of desperation, I was raising the
revolver to hit the man in the face with it, when I
suddenly found my legs powerless to support me, and
I was falling, grasping for support, and gasping for
breath, I did not then know why, though afterwards I
discovered it was caused by the shock of a heavy blow
on the lungs.
In another instant I was on the ground with a dozen
Somali on the top of me. The man I had endeavoured
to shoot wrenched the pistol out of my hand, and the
way the scoundrel handled me sent a creeping shudder
all over me. I felt as if my hair stood on end; and,
not knowing who my opponents were, I feared that
they belonged to a tribe called Eesa, who are notorious,
not only for their ferocity in fighting, but for the unmanly
mutilations they delight in. Indescribable was
my relief when I found that my most dreadful fears
were without foundation. The men were in reality
feeling whether, after an Arab fashion, I was carrying
a dagger between my legs, to rip up a foe after his
victim was supposed to be powerless. Finding me
naked, all but a few rags, they tied my hands behind
my back, and began speaking to me in Arabic. Not
knowing a word of that language, I spoke in broken