This was a good suggestion and one on which they acted without delay.
Taking red embers, they blew them into a flame and lit torches, which
they applied to the reeds over a width of several hundred yards. The
strong northward wind soon did the rest; indeed with a quarter of an
hour a vast sheet of flame twenty or thirty feet in height was rushing
towards the Asiki columns. Then they began their advance along the river
bank, running at a steady trot, for here the ground was open.

All that day they ran, pausing at intervals to get their breath, and at
night rested because they must. When the light came upon the following
morning they looked back from a little hill and saw the outposts of the
Asiki advancing not a mile behind. Doubtless some of the army had been
burned, but the rest, guessing their route, had forced a way through
the reeds and cut across country. So they began to run again harder than
before, and kept their lead during the morning. But when afternoon came
the Asika gained on them. Now they were breasting a long rise, the river
running in the cleft beneath, and Jeekie, who seemed to be absolutely
untiring, held Alan by the hand, Fahni following close behind. Two of
their men had fallen down and been abandoned, and the rest straggled.

"No go, Jeekie," gasped Alan, "they will catch us at the top of the
hill."

"Never say die, Major, never say die," puffed Jeekie, "they get blown
too and who know what other side of hill?"

Somehow they struggled to the crest and behold! there beneath them was a
great army of men.

"Ogula!" yelled Jeekie, "Ogula! Just what I tell you, Major, who know