er in the Royal Engineers and therefore thoroughly
understood that business. Indeed he understood it rather too well, since
the result of his somewhat complicated and scientific scheme of defence
was a little confusing to the simple native mind. However, with the
assistance of all the priests and of all the women and children who
were not engaged in provisioning the Mount, he built wall after wall and
redoubt after redoubt, if that is the right word, to say nothing of the
shelter trenches he dug and many pitfalls, furnished at the bottom with
sharp stakes, which he hollowed out wherever the soil could be easily
moved, to discomfit a charging enemy.

Indeed, when I saw the amount of work he had concluded in ten
days, which was not until I joined him on the mountain, I was quite
astonished.

About this time a dispute arose as to whether we should attempt to
prevent the Black Kendah from crossing the river which was now running
down, a plan that some of the elders favoured. At last the controversy
was referred to me as head general and I decided against anything of the
sort. It seemed to me that our force was too small, and that if I took
the rifle-men a great deal of ammunition might be expended with poor
result. Also in the event of any reverse or when we were finally driven
back, which must happen, there might be difficulty about remounting the
camels, our only means of escape from the horsemen who would possibly
gallop us down. Moreover the Tava had several fords, any one of which
might be selected by the enemy. So it was arranged that we should make
our first and last stand upon the Holy Mount.

On the fourteenth night from new moon our swift camel-scouts who were
posted in relays between the Tava and the Mount reported that the Black
Kendah were gathered in thousands upon the farther side of the river,
where they were engaged in celebrating magical ceremonies. On the
fifteenth night the scouts reported that they were crossing the river,
about five thousand horsemen and fifteen thousand foot soldiers, and
that at the head of them marched the huge god-elephant Jana, on which
rode Simba the King and a lame priest (evidently my friend whose foot
had been injured by the pistol), who acted as a mahout. This part of the
story I confess I did not believe, since it seemed to me impossible that
anyone could ride upon that mad rogue, Jana. Yet, as subsequent events
showed, it was in fact true. I suppose that in certain hands