Someone was firing Beza Town! In less than an hour the flames, driven
by the gale through hundreds of huts made dry as tinder by the heat,
would reduce Beza to a heap of ashes. It was inevitable, nothing could
save the place! For an instant I thought that the Arabs must have done
this thing. Then, seeing that new fires continually arose in different
places, I understood that no Arabs, but a friend or friends were at
work, who had conceived the idea of /destroying the Arabs with fire/.
My mind flew to Sammy. Without doubt Sammy had stayed behind to carry
out this terrible and masterly scheme, of which I am sure none of the
Mazitu would have thought, since it involved the absolute destruction
of their homes and property. Sammy, at whom we had always mocked, was,
after all, a great man, prepared to perish in the flames in order to
save his friends!
Babemba rushed up, pointing with a spear to the rising fire. Now my
inspiration came.
"Take all your men," I said, "except those who are armed with guns.
Divide them, encircle the town, guard the north gate, though I think
none can win back through the flames, and if any of the Arabs succeed
in breaking through the palisade, kill them.
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