Chapter Thirteen.Realities of War.I glanced round at the little group of men, every face wearing the same serious aspect; then I lowered my eyes to continue my task of trying to restore Denham to his senses, while the moments glided by, and many shots were fired at our position; yet there was no change in the officer’s condition.“He isn’t dead—is he?” said one of the troopers. “Dead? No!” I cried angrily; but even as I spoke a chill of horror ran through me, for the utterly inanimate state of my new friend suggested that the shock of the blow might have been fatal.“But he doesn’t seem to have a spark of life in him, poor chap!”“He’ll recover soon,” I said as firmly as I could, and determined to put the best face upon the matter.“But we can’t wait for ‘soon,’” cried another man impatiently. “In less than a quarter of an hour the Doppers will be down upon us, and then it’s either a bullet apiece or prisoners.”“We must carry him down to where the Colonel is with the rest of the troopers,” I said. “No, no. Set him on a horse.”“He can’t possibly sit a horse,” I said firmly; “and if you put him on one it will take two men to keep him in his place.”“We can’t spare them,” cried the first man who had spoken. “We want all our rifles to be speaking as we retire.”Just then a thought struck me.“He must be carried,” I said.“It can’t be done, sir,” was the reply. “The men can’t be spared. One of us must have him in front of the saddle as we retreat.”“No, no,” I said. “Here, wait a minute.—Joeboy!” I shouted, and, shield and assagai in hand, the black dashed to my side as if to defend me from some attack.“Can you carry this officer on your back down the valley, Joeboy?” I said.“Um!” was the prompt reply. “You take my spears.”“Yes. Hang them to my saddle,” I said. “Quick!”The next minute I helped to raise the insensible man carefully on to the black’s broad back as he bent down on one knee, Denham’s arms being placed round Joeboy’s neck; and then, at his request, the wrists were bound together with a sash.“Now,” I said, “can you do it?”“Um!” was the reply; and, without a word being uttered by way of order, the man rose softly to his feet and set off at a slow, steady walk down towards the little force of mounted rifles waiting, a couple of miles or so away, to receive our news.No sooner were we well out of the cover which had sheltered us than the firing increased, showing that our movements were under observation; but the pattering shots, which seemed to strike every spot save where we moved at a pace regulated by Joeboy’s steady walk, had no effect upon the discipline of the little party. The sergeant, a middle-aged man, like a Cornish farmer, now took the command. He ordered half the party to follow close after their woundedofficer, and halted the second half, who stood dismounted and covered by their horses, to reply to the enemy’s fire.Instead of checking the shots, our reply seemed only to increase them; but we had the satisfaction of knowing that the fire was concentrated upon us, and that Lieutenant Denham and his bearer were running no risk of being brought down. This was kept up for fully ten minutes, during which our friends had got some distance. Then the order was given to mount; and, giving our horses their heads, we went in single file clattering along the stone-strewn and often slippery track, followed by a scattered shower of bullets, horribly badly aimed, for we had taken our enemies by surprise.We could not go very fast; but the pace was fast enough to overtake our companions soon, who formed up under the best cover they could find, leaving us room to pass and ride on to where Joeboy trudged manfully on, and then draw rein and walk our horses, listening to the pattering of the Doppers’ bullets and the steady and regular reply of our men.“Has he moved or spoken, Joeboy?” I said anxiously as I rode alongside.“Um!” replied Joeboy.“’Fraid he gone dead, Boss Val.”“No, no!” I said, laying my hand against Denham’s neck. “I believe he is only stunned. Are you getting tired?”“Um!” growled the great black. It seemed wonderful what expression he could put into that one ejaculation, which sounded now as if he were saying, “Tired? No: I could go on like this till dark.”I said no more, but fell back into my place, where I found the next man eager enough to talk.“They brag about the Boers’ shooting; but I don’t think much of it, nor of ours neither, if you come to that. I don’t wish any harm to them who made all this trouble; but I should like for our boys to bring down a man at every shot. It would bring some of the rest to their senses. I say, you don’t think young Mr Denham’s going home, do you?”“No,” I said sharply. “I think he only wants getting on to a bed, to lie till the shock of his hurt has passed away.”“Yes, that’s it,” said the trooper; “bed’s a grand thing for nearly everything. I never knew how grand it was till I came on this business and had to sleep out here on the stones. You haven’t begun to find out what it is to be away from your bed at times.”“I’ve slept out on the veldt or up in a kopje scores of times,” I replied, “and have grown used to it.”“Oh!” said my companion, glancing at me to see if I was telling the truth. Then, apparently satisfied, he continued: “I wish those who made this war had to do all the fighting. I’m sick of it.”“Already?” I said.“Yes; I was sick of it before we began to hit out. What’s the sense of it? Here am I, five-and-twenty, hale, hearty, and strong, trying to get shot. But of course one had to come. I mean to make some of them pay for it, though.”“But you volunteered.”“Of course. I say, though, I don’t wonder at you making a run for it. Nice game to have to fight on the enemy’s side! I should like that—oh yes, very much indeed! My rifle would have gone off by accident sometimes and hit the wrong man. I say, though, oughtn’t the Colonel to hear all this firing, and come up to help us?”“That’s what I’ve been thinking,” I replied. “I should be very glad if we saw him on ahead. But we must have a couple of miles to go yet to join them—mustn’t we?”“Yes, quite that; but, my word!” cried my companion, “they’re going it now. They’re firing shots enough to bring down every one of our rear-guard.”“Yes; and it will be our turn again directly, when they trot on.”“They ought to be here by now,” continued my new comrade. “I don’t believe they’ll come.”“Why?” I said anxiously.“They’ll all be shot down.”“Nonsense,” I said. “Listen; those are their rifles replying.”“I suppose so,” was the reply, given thoughtfully. “But what a strange echo the hills give back here!”“Yes,” I said. “That’s why it’s called Echo Nek.”“I suppose so; but—but— Here, I say, those are not echoes we can hear now.”“Nonsense! What can they be, then?”“Some one else firing. Can’t you hear? It sounds from right in front.”“Well, that’s how echoes do sound. The reports come down the pass and strike against the face of the rocks, and are reflected off.”“That’s all very nicely put, comrade,” said the young man, “and I dare say it’s scientific and ‘all according to Cocker,’ as my father used to say; but you’re not going to make me believe those are echoes we can hear right in front. Now, you listen.”I did as he suggested, and the rattling of the Boers’ rifles came plainly enough, their many reverberations, as the reports seemed to strike from side to side, almost drowning the feeble replies of our own men. Then, after a perceptible pause, fresh reports were heard, and certainly these seemed to come from some distance away in front.“There!” cried my companion triumphantly. “What do you say to that?”“That the shots echo again from some high hills in front.”“Boss Val,” cried Joeboy just then, and I touched Sandho with my heels, making him spring on to where the big black was straining his neck to look back, but trudging steadily on all the while.“What is it, Joeboy?” I said anxiously. “Has he moved or spoken?”“Um! Not said a word; but some one shooting over-over.”He nodded his head in the direction we were going, and now I grasped the fact that I had before doubted—namely, that firing was going on in our front.I drew the sergeant’s attention to it directly, and he nodded.“That settles it at once,” he said. “Here have I been telling myself it was all my fancy; but now you hear it I feel it must be fact.”“I hear it; so does my man, and the trooper who rides next to me.”“Yes; and we can all hear it now,” said the Sergeant. “Well, it’s plain enough. We’re in a tight place, my lad, for there’s only one answer to it, and it explains why the Colonel hasn’t sent us some support, for he must have heard the firing.”“What do you make of it, then?”“That the Doppers are better soldiers than we give them credit for being, and they’ve got round to the Colonel’s rear somehow, and shut him in this giant hogs’-trough of a valley.”“Think so?” I said anxiously, as I thought of the Lieutenant.“I’m sure of it. Now then; that’s not our business. Halt! Right about! Take position behind those stones. Dismount and cover the retreat. Here they come.”The clatter of the horses of the other party came plainly to our ears as we took our places ready to reply to the Boers’ fire. I had intended to have another look at the wounded man before this took place, and was therefore much disappointed; but there was no help for it, and I stood with Sandho fairly well sheltered behind a stone five feet high, upon which my rifle rested. Then the party we were to relieve cantered by, with two men wounded and supported on their horses; and as I watched the puffs of smoke and listened to the bullets spattering and splaying the rocks, with the buzz of the high shots now sounding so familiar, I wondered at being able to take it all so coolly.“I suppose it’s because I’m beginning to get used to it,” I thought. Then I began to speculate as to what would happen now if the sergeant was right, and we were to be attacked front and rear; and what it would feel like if I were hit, as seemed very likely now that the enemy were getting so near. But I glanced right and left at my companions, just in time, to see the Sergeant start back, to stand shaking his right hand vigorously, and directly after I saw the blood beginning to drip from his finger-ends.“Much hurt?” I asked, hurrying to his side, dragging out my handkerchief the while.“No!” he roared; “only a scratch. Back to your place, sir! Who told you to leave? Here; stop! As you are here you may as well tie that rag round it.”He said these last words more gently, and smiled as I rapidly bound up his injury as well as I could.“Thank ye, my lad,” he said. “I must preserve discipline, and we’re getting pressed. Taken off a bit of the middle finger—hasn’t it?”“Half of it, I’m afraid,” I said.“What have you got to be afraid of? Might have been worse. Suppose it had been the first finger; then I shouldn’t have been able to draw trigger—eh? That’ll do—won’t it? I’m in a hurry.”“I haven’t stopped the bleeding,” I replied.“Never mind. Mother Nature will soon do that. Now then, back you go. Show them how you young farmers can shoot.”I was on my way back to my place when the clattering of hoofs made me turn my head, and I saw a man in the Light Horse uniform come galloping up, utterly regardless of the danger he ran from obstructing stones.“Back!” he shouted. “Retire on the main body as fast as you can go. Colonel’s orders.”We were in full retreat at once, after emptying our rifles upon the steadily advancing enemy, who came on, running from stone to stone, cleverly taking advantage of every bit of cover. We soon came in sight of the men we had relieved, who were hurrying to the rear as fast as they could get their wounded men along; while, to my great satisfaction, there was Joeboy striding along at a tremendous rate: it was a walk, but such a walk as would have compelled me to trot to keep up with him. He could not have kept it up much longer, I could see, for the perspiration was streaming down his face and neck, and he was breathing hard; but at the end of another quarter of a mile, as the firing in front grew louder and louder, I saw about a couple of dozen of the troopers coming to our help, four of whom dismounted, giving up their horses to comrades, and quickly spreading a blanket upon the ground.It struck me at once that Joeboy would refuse to give up his load; but I got up to him just in time, and at a word from me the young officer, still perfectly insensible, was lifted from the big black’s shoulders, laid upon the blanket, and then the four men took the corners in a good grip and trotted off at the double. Joeboy, grinning with satisfaction, now took hold of my saddle-bow and ran by my side till we reached the strong position in a great notch in one side of the valley, where the Colonel was defending himself against a large body of the enemy coming on from the plains below.It was a capitally chosen spot, as I soon saw, for there was a smooth open part in front of the notch, which backed right into the side; and the stones across the path, front and rear, formed capital breastworks for the dismounted men who lined them, all the horses having been turned into the gap in the huge wall, where they were quite out of the line of fire.“Splendid!” said the Sergeant to me, as we waited to take our turn at the defence.“But we shall be attacked on both sides,” I said. “Oughtn’t we to get in there with the horses?”“No, you recruit, you,” said the Sergeant. “We shall be between two fires; but don’t you see how the enemy will be crippled? Every shot that goes over us, whether it’s upward or downward, goes among the Doppies. They’re firing at us, but at their own friends as well.”“Of course,” I replied. “I did not see that.”“I didn’t at first,” he said; “but our Colonel’s got his head screwed on the right way, and the position is famous. Well, why don’t you say ‘Hurrah!’ or ‘Bravo!’ or something of the sort?”“Because I don’t feel satisfied,” I said.“You young fellows never are,” said the Sergeant. “What’s the matter with you now?”“We can hold out, of course,” I said, “as long as our ammunition lasts; but what about afterwards?”“Bother afterwards!” he said sharply; “a hundred things may happen before it comes to afterwards.”“Then, if they determine to hold on, they can force us to surrender.”“Never,” said the Sergeant; “so no more croaking.”“But what about provisions?”“Every man has his rations in a satchel.”“But water?”“Every man has his bottle well filled, my lad.”“But when the water-bottles are empty and the food is done? What about feeding the horses? What about watering them?”“Yah!” growled the Sergeant savagely. “Call yourself a volunteer? What do you mean by coming here prophesying all sorts of evil? Do you want to starve the horses and see ’em die of thirst? Here, I say, my lad,” he whispered, “don’t let any of the boys hear that. You’ve hit the weak point of the defence a regular staggerer. You’re quite right; but we must hold on, and perhaps after a good peppering they’ll draw off. If they don’t, it means forming up and making a dash, and that’s what the Colonel won’t do if he can help it, on account of the loss.”I had no more time for talking, for directly after I was ordered to take my place behind one of the stones to make the best use I could of my rifle in keeping back the enemy, who were now descending the pass in great numbers, while the firing from the rear was so furious that it was plain enough that the ascending force was stronger than the one with which they were trying to join hands.
I glanced round at the little group of men, every face wearing the same serious aspect; then I lowered my eyes to continue my task of trying to restore Denham to his senses, while the moments glided by, and many shots were fired at our position; yet there was no change in the officer’s condition.
“He isn’t dead—is he?” said one of the troopers. “Dead? No!” I cried angrily; but even as I spoke a chill of horror ran through me, for the utterly inanimate state of my new friend suggested that the shock of the blow might have been fatal.
“But he doesn’t seem to have a spark of life in him, poor chap!”
“He’ll recover soon,” I said as firmly as I could, and determined to put the best face upon the matter.
“But we can’t wait for ‘soon,’” cried another man impatiently. “In less than a quarter of an hour the Doppers will be down upon us, and then it’s either a bullet apiece or prisoners.”
“We must carry him down to where the Colonel is with the rest of the troopers,” I said. “No, no. Set him on a horse.”
“He can’t possibly sit a horse,” I said firmly; “and if you put him on one it will take two men to keep him in his place.”
“We can’t spare them,” cried the first man who had spoken. “We want all our rifles to be speaking as we retire.”
Just then a thought struck me.
“He must be carried,” I said.
“It can’t be done, sir,” was the reply. “The men can’t be spared. One of us must have him in front of the saddle as we retreat.”
“No, no,” I said. “Here, wait a minute.—Joeboy!” I shouted, and, shield and assagai in hand, the black dashed to my side as if to defend me from some attack.
“Can you carry this officer on your back down the valley, Joeboy?” I said.
“Um!” was the prompt reply. “You take my spears.”
“Yes. Hang them to my saddle,” I said. “Quick!”
The next minute I helped to raise the insensible man carefully on to the black’s broad back as he bent down on one knee, Denham’s arms being placed round Joeboy’s neck; and then, at his request, the wrists were bound together with a sash.
“Now,” I said, “can you do it?”
“Um!” was the reply; and, without a word being uttered by way of order, the man rose softly to his feet and set off at a slow, steady walk down towards the little force of mounted rifles waiting, a couple of miles or so away, to receive our news.
No sooner were we well out of the cover which had sheltered us than the firing increased, showing that our movements were under observation; but the pattering shots, which seemed to strike every spot save where we moved at a pace regulated by Joeboy’s steady walk, had no effect upon the discipline of the little party. The sergeant, a middle-aged man, like a Cornish farmer, now took the command. He ordered half the party to follow close after their woundedofficer, and halted the second half, who stood dismounted and covered by their horses, to reply to the enemy’s fire.
Instead of checking the shots, our reply seemed only to increase them; but we had the satisfaction of knowing that the fire was concentrated upon us, and that Lieutenant Denham and his bearer were running no risk of being brought down. This was kept up for fully ten minutes, during which our friends had got some distance. Then the order was given to mount; and, giving our horses their heads, we went in single file clattering along the stone-strewn and often slippery track, followed by a scattered shower of bullets, horribly badly aimed, for we had taken our enemies by surprise.
We could not go very fast; but the pace was fast enough to overtake our companions soon, who formed up under the best cover they could find, leaving us room to pass and ride on to where Joeboy trudged manfully on, and then draw rein and walk our horses, listening to the pattering of the Doppers’ bullets and the steady and regular reply of our men.
“Has he moved or spoken, Joeboy?” I said anxiously as I rode alongside.
“Um!” replied Joeboy.
“’Fraid he gone dead, Boss Val.”
“No, no!” I said, laying my hand against Denham’s neck. “I believe he is only stunned. Are you getting tired?”
“Um!” growled the great black. It seemed wonderful what expression he could put into that one ejaculation, which sounded now as if he were saying, “Tired? No: I could go on like this till dark.”
I said no more, but fell back into my place, where I found the next man eager enough to talk.
“They brag about the Boers’ shooting; but I don’t think much of it, nor of ours neither, if you come to that. I don’t wish any harm to them who made all this trouble; but I should like for our boys to bring down a man at every shot. It would bring some of the rest to their senses. I say, you don’t think young Mr Denham’s going home, do you?”
“No,” I said sharply. “I think he only wants getting on to a bed, to lie till the shock of his hurt has passed away.”
“Yes, that’s it,” said the trooper; “bed’s a grand thing for nearly everything. I never knew how grand it was till I came on this business and had to sleep out here on the stones. You haven’t begun to find out what it is to be away from your bed at times.”
“I’ve slept out on the veldt or up in a kopje scores of times,” I replied, “and have grown used to it.”
“Oh!” said my companion, glancing at me to see if I was telling the truth. Then, apparently satisfied, he continued: “I wish those who made this war had to do all the fighting. I’m sick of it.”
“Already?” I said.
“Yes; I was sick of it before we began to hit out. What’s the sense of it? Here am I, five-and-twenty, hale, hearty, and strong, trying to get shot. But of course one had to come. I mean to make some of them pay for it, though.”
“But you volunteered.”
“Of course. I say, though, I don’t wonder at you making a run for it. Nice game to have to fight on the enemy’s side! I should like that—oh yes, very much indeed! My rifle would have gone off by accident sometimes and hit the wrong man. I say, though, oughtn’t the Colonel to hear all this firing, and come up to help us?”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking,” I replied. “I should be very glad if we saw him on ahead. But we must have a couple of miles to go yet to join them—mustn’t we?”
“Yes, quite that; but, my word!” cried my companion, “they’re going it now. They’re firing shots enough to bring down every one of our rear-guard.”
“Yes; and it will be our turn again directly, when they trot on.”
“They ought to be here by now,” continued my new comrade. “I don’t believe they’ll come.”
“Why?” I said anxiously.
“They’ll all be shot down.”
“Nonsense,” I said. “Listen; those are their rifles replying.”
“I suppose so,” was the reply, given thoughtfully. “But what a strange echo the hills give back here!”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s why it’s called Echo Nek.”
“I suppose so; but—but— Here, I say, those are not echoes we can hear now.”
“Nonsense! What can they be, then?”
“Some one else firing. Can’t you hear? It sounds from right in front.”
“Well, that’s how echoes do sound. The reports come down the pass and strike against the face of the rocks, and are reflected off.”
“That’s all very nicely put, comrade,” said the young man, “and I dare say it’s scientific and ‘all according to Cocker,’ as my father used to say; but you’re not going to make me believe those are echoes we can hear right in front. Now, you listen.”
I did as he suggested, and the rattling of the Boers’ rifles came plainly enough, their many reverberations, as the reports seemed to strike from side to side, almost drowning the feeble replies of our own men. Then, after a perceptible pause, fresh reports were heard, and certainly these seemed to come from some distance away in front.
“There!” cried my companion triumphantly. “What do you say to that?”
“That the shots echo again from some high hills in front.”
“Boss Val,” cried Joeboy just then, and I touched Sandho with my heels, making him spring on to where the big black was straining his neck to look back, but trudging steadily on all the while.
“What is it, Joeboy?” I said anxiously. “Has he moved or spoken?”
“Um! Not said a word; but some one shooting over-over.”
He nodded his head in the direction we were going, and now I grasped the fact that I had before doubted—namely, that firing was going on in our front.
I drew the sergeant’s attention to it directly, and he nodded.
“That settles it at once,” he said. “Here have I been telling myself it was all my fancy; but now you hear it I feel it must be fact.”
“I hear it; so does my man, and the trooper who rides next to me.”
“Yes; and we can all hear it now,” said the Sergeant. “Well, it’s plain enough. We’re in a tight place, my lad, for there’s only one answer to it, and it explains why the Colonel hasn’t sent us some support, for he must have heard the firing.”
“What do you make of it, then?”
“That the Doppers are better soldiers than we give them credit for being, and they’ve got round to the Colonel’s rear somehow, and shut him in this giant hogs’-trough of a valley.”
“Think so?” I said anxiously, as I thought of the Lieutenant.
“I’m sure of it. Now then; that’s not our business. Halt! Right about! Take position behind those stones. Dismount and cover the retreat. Here they come.”
The clatter of the horses of the other party came plainly to our ears as we took our places ready to reply to the Boers’ fire. I had intended to have another look at the wounded man before this took place, and was therefore much disappointed; but there was no help for it, and I stood with Sandho fairly well sheltered behind a stone five feet high, upon which my rifle rested. Then the party we were to relieve cantered by, with two men wounded and supported on their horses; and as I watched the puffs of smoke and listened to the bullets spattering and splaying the rocks, with the buzz of the high shots now sounding so familiar, I wondered at being able to take it all so coolly.
“I suppose it’s because I’m beginning to get used to it,” I thought. Then I began to speculate as to what would happen now if the sergeant was right, and we were to be attacked front and rear; and what it would feel like if I were hit, as seemed very likely now that the enemy were getting so near. But I glanced right and left at my companions, just in time, to see the Sergeant start back, to stand shaking his right hand vigorously, and directly after I saw the blood beginning to drip from his finger-ends.
“Much hurt?” I asked, hurrying to his side, dragging out my handkerchief the while.
“No!” he roared; “only a scratch. Back to your place, sir! Who told you to leave? Here; stop! As you are here you may as well tie that rag round it.”
He said these last words more gently, and smiled as I rapidly bound up his injury as well as I could.
“Thank ye, my lad,” he said. “I must preserve discipline, and we’re getting pressed. Taken off a bit of the middle finger—hasn’t it?”
“Half of it, I’m afraid,” I said.
“What have you got to be afraid of? Might have been worse. Suppose it had been the first finger; then I shouldn’t have been able to draw trigger—eh? That’ll do—won’t it? I’m in a hurry.”
“I haven’t stopped the bleeding,” I replied.
“Never mind. Mother Nature will soon do that. Now then, back you go. Show them how you young farmers can shoot.”
I was on my way back to my place when the clattering of hoofs made me turn my head, and I saw a man in the Light Horse uniform come galloping up, utterly regardless of the danger he ran from obstructing stones.
“Back!” he shouted. “Retire on the main body as fast as you can go. Colonel’s orders.”
We were in full retreat at once, after emptying our rifles upon the steadily advancing enemy, who came on, running from stone to stone, cleverly taking advantage of every bit of cover. We soon came in sight of the men we had relieved, who were hurrying to the rear as fast as they could get their wounded men along; while, to my great satisfaction, there was Joeboy striding along at a tremendous rate: it was a walk, but such a walk as would have compelled me to trot to keep up with him. He could not have kept it up much longer, I could see, for the perspiration was streaming down his face and neck, and he was breathing hard; but at the end of another quarter of a mile, as the firing in front grew louder and louder, I saw about a couple of dozen of the troopers coming to our help, four of whom dismounted, giving up their horses to comrades, and quickly spreading a blanket upon the ground.
It struck me at once that Joeboy would refuse to give up his load; but I got up to him just in time, and at a word from me the young officer, still perfectly insensible, was lifted from the big black’s shoulders, laid upon the blanket, and then the four men took the corners in a good grip and trotted off at the double. Joeboy, grinning with satisfaction, now took hold of my saddle-bow and ran by my side till we reached the strong position in a great notch in one side of the valley, where the Colonel was defending himself against a large body of the enemy coming on from the plains below.
It was a capitally chosen spot, as I soon saw, for there was a smooth open part in front of the notch, which backed right into the side; and the stones across the path, front and rear, formed capital breastworks for the dismounted men who lined them, all the horses having been turned into the gap in the huge wall, where they were quite out of the line of fire.
“Splendid!” said the Sergeant to me, as we waited to take our turn at the defence.
“But we shall be attacked on both sides,” I said. “Oughtn’t we to get in there with the horses?”
“No, you recruit, you,” said the Sergeant. “We shall be between two fires; but don’t you see how the enemy will be crippled? Every shot that goes over us, whether it’s upward or downward, goes among the Doppies. They’re firing at us, but at their own friends as well.”
“Of course,” I replied. “I did not see that.”
“I didn’t at first,” he said; “but our Colonel’s got his head screwed on the right way, and the position is famous. Well, why don’t you say ‘Hurrah!’ or ‘Bravo!’ or something of the sort?”
“Because I don’t feel satisfied,” I said.
“You young fellows never are,” said the Sergeant. “What’s the matter with you now?”
“We can hold out, of course,” I said, “as long as our ammunition lasts; but what about afterwards?”
“Bother afterwards!” he said sharply; “a hundred things may happen before it comes to afterwards.”
“Then, if they determine to hold on, they can force us to surrender.”
“Never,” said the Sergeant; “so no more croaking.”
“But what about provisions?”
“Every man has his rations in a satchel.”
“But water?”
“Every man has his bottle well filled, my lad.”
“But when the water-bottles are empty and the food is done? What about feeding the horses? What about watering them?”
“Yah!” growled the Sergeant savagely. “Call yourself a volunteer? What do you mean by coming here prophesying all sorts of evil? Do you want to starve the horses and see ’em die of thirst? Here, I say, my lad,” he whispered, “don’t let any of the boys hear that. You’ve hit the weak point of the defence a regular staggerer. You’re quite right; but we must hold on, and perhaps after a good peppering they’ll draw off. If they don’t, it means forming up and making a dash, and that’s what the Colonel won’t do if he can help it, on account of the loss.”
I had no more time for talking, for directly after I was ordered to take my place behind one of the stones to make the best use I could of my rifle in keeping back the enemy, who were now descending the pass in great numbers, while the firing from the rear was so furious that it was plain enough that the ascending force was stronger than the one with which they were trying to join hands.
Chapter Fourteen.How I Used My Cartridges.It was a strange experience for one who had come fresh from a home life; and in the intervals of tiring I could not help wondering whether it was not all a dream. The reality, however, forced itself on me too strongly as the light went on, the spaces about the stones being literally littered with battered bullets which had assumed all kinds of strange shapes after coming in contact with the stones—flat, mushroom-shaped, twisted, the conical points struck off diagonally, and the like; but we were so sheltered that if the Boers fired low we were unhurt, and if they fired high their shots went over among comrades. Signals were now made from above and below, with the result that the attacking party coming down the pass divided, to line the sides of the place as far as they could, so that their shots crossed our defences, and the attacking party from below followed their old tactics; thus our defences were swept by a cross-fire, and fewer Boers fell by the bullets of their friends. But these movements on the part of the Boers had brought them better within range of our pieces, for they were more exposed upon climbing up the slopes; and I had plain evidence of the loss they sustained.At last night began to fall, and the firing of the attacking force, dropped off. It was plain that the Boers were retiring, possibly disheartened by their heavy losses. Then, soon after dark, lights began to appear, just out of range, both up and down the pass; but it was probable that the fight would be resumed as soon as it was daylight again.Two-thirds of the men were now set at liberty to take what rest and refreshment they could, the remaining third being upon sentry-duty, ready to give the alarm should a night attack be attempted; but of this there was little probability.Taking advantage of not being on sentry-duty, I made my way to the niche in the mountain-side which had been taken for hospital purposes, and here found Denham rolled up in a horseman’s cloak and sleeping peacefully. I felt his forehead gently, and then his wrists and hands, to find all cool and comfortable; but I knew I must not wake him. Just then a figure close by stirred, and I started, for a voice said, “He’s asleep.”“Yes, I know,” I replied; “but has he been awake?”“Yes; an hour ago.”“How did he seem?” I asked.“Said it hurt him a deal, just as if his ribs were broken. Ah! he doesn’t know what pain is.”“Do you?” I said.“Rather!” said the man. “One of their bullets went right through my thigh just about six inches below my hip. That is pain. It’s just as if a red-hot iron was being pushed through.”“Can I get anything for you?” I said.“No,” was the gruff reply; “unless you can get me a heap of patience to bear all this pain.”I tried to say a few comforting words to him, but they only seemed to irritate.“Don’t,” he said peevishly. “I know you want to be kind, my lad; but I’m not myself now, and it only makes me feel mad. There, thank ye for it all; but please go before I say something ungrateful.”I crept away and tried to find the doctor who was with the corps; but he was busy with his wounded men, of whom he had about twenty. Giving up the satisfaction of getting his report about the young Lieutenant, I went to where Sandho was picketed with the rest, and stood by his head for about half-an-hour, petting and caressing him, before going back towards the rough breastwork—partly natural, partly artificial—which served as a shelter from the bullets.I soon came upon one of the sentries, who challenged me; but he made room for me beside him after a few words had passed.“Oh yes,” he said, “you can stay here if you like; but why don’t you go and lie down till you have to relieve guard?”“Because I feel too excited to sleep,” I replied.“Humph! Yes, it has been warm work,” said the sentry; “but I suppose we shall get used to it. I’m excited; but I feel as if I’d give anything to lie down for an hour.”“Well, lie down,” I said. “I’ll keep watch for you.”“You will?” he said joyfully. “No, no; I’m not going to break down like that. Don’t say any more about it. It’s like tempting a man. Here, I say,” he whispered eagerly, “how quiet they are! You don’t think they’re going to make a night attack—do you?”“No,” I said; “it’s not likely. What good could they do when they couldn’t see to shoot?”“None, of course. It’s not as if they were soldiers with bayonets. The only thing they could do would be to stampede the horses.”“What!” I whispered excitedly. “Oh, I say, don’t talk like that.”“Only a bit of an idea that came into my head. Don’t see anything—do you?”“Nothing,” I replied. “It’s dark; but there’s a curious transparent look about the night, and I think we should see any one directly if he were advancing.”“How? I don’t see that’s at all likely.”“If any one passed along it would be like a shadow crossing the grey stones. They look quite grey in the starlight.”“Well, yes, they do,” he said; “and—I say, what’s that?”He pointed towards the Boers’ camp-fires, and, startled by his tone, I looked eagerly in the direction pointed out; but there were the piles of grey stones looking dull and shadowy, but no sign to me of anything else.“Fancy,” I said.“No. Just as you spoke I saw something dark go across one of the stones. Shall I fire?”“Certainly not. It would be alarming every one for nothing. We talked about seeing things pass the grey stones, and that made you think you saw some one.”“Perhaps so,” he said thoughtfully. “Anyhow, there’s nothing here now. I say, that seems to have woke me up.”“It would,” I said; and then I crouched a little lower, shading my eyes from the starlight and keenly sweeping the chaotic wilderness of rocks again and again, but seeing nothing.I heard, though, the steps of the sentry away to my left, and soon after a faint cough to my right sounded quite loudly.“It wouldn’t have done for you to have gone to sleep with me taking your place, for I suppose some officer will be visiting the posts before very long, and then you’d have been found out if I hadn’t woke you in time.”I said this in a low tone not much above a whisper, in case any one was going the rounds; but he did not take any notice.“It wouldn’t have done, you know,” I said.There was a low, heavy sighing breath, which made me start in wonder, and then turn towards my companion, to find that his rifle was resting against the stone, and that he had sunk sidewise against another and was fast asleep.“Completely fagged out,” I said to myself, with a feeling of pity for him. “He did fight bravely against it; but the drowsiness was too much for him.”One moment I felt ready to take hold of his arm and shake him, but I did not. I was there with his rifle ready to my hand, and if I kept his watch, perhaps only for a few minutes, he would wake up again, refreshed and better able to keep it till he was relieved.“It often is so,” I said to myself. “One drops asleep after dinner, and then wakes up ready to go for any length of time. It’s being a good comrade to the poor fellow,” I thought; and, picking up his rifle, I took over his duty just as if it were my own, keeping my eyes wandering over the dark grey stones in front, and sweeping the whole space. Then my breath suddenly felt as if checked in my surprise, for about thirty yards away, as near as I could guess, there was a dark shadow passing one of the great blocks.“Fancy,” I said to myself as soon as I could recover from my surprise; and, treating myself as I had treated my fellow-trooper, I mentally declared I had thought about it till I seemed to see it.“It’s all imagination,” I said again; and then I lowered the rifle I held, a thrill running through me as I distinctly saw the dark shadow again, but nearer than before. This time I was certain it was not imagination. A figure—enemy or no—was cautiously stealing towards our lines! My first impulse was to fire at the figure and give the alarm; but on second thoughts I hesitated to go to such an extreme. Fixing my eyes upon the dark, shadowy form, I cocked my rifle, and called hoarsely upon whoever it was to stop.“Ah! No shoot, no shoot,” cried a familiar voice.“Joeboy!” I exclaimed.“Um!” was the reply; and, to my astonishment, the black came hurrying towards me, bending under a load which stuck out curiously from his sides and back.“Why, what have you been doing out there?”“Been get all these,” he said as he forced his way between a couple of stones, which caught his bulky load and checked him for a few moments.“You idiot!” I said in a low tone, for I was afraid now that I had alarmed the sentries on either side; but though Joeboy’s load on one side bumped against my companion sentry, he was so utterly wearied out that he did not stir.“Um? Idiot?” said Joeboy. “Boss Val going to be hungry. Joeboy hungry. Been to get all these.”“What are they—forage-bags?”“Um!” he said.“But where did you get them—whose are they?”“Doppies’. All in a heap. Brought them all along.”A little further questioning made it all clear—that under cover of the darkness the plucky fellow had crept up the valley, taking advantage of the shelter afforded by the stones, passed the lines of the Boers, and hunted about till he came upon something worth having in the shape of a pile of canvas forage-bags containing the men’s provender, which they had left together and in charge of a sentinel, so as to be unencumbered in their attack upon us.“But what about the sentry?” I said suspiciously.“Um? Fast asleep,” said Joeboy.“What! all the time you were loading yourself with these bags?”“Um!”“You did not send him to sleep, did you?” I said suspiciously.“Um? Killum?”“Yes.”“No,” said Joeboy coolly. “Didn’t wake up. Lot more couldn’t carry. Plenty to eat now.”“Then you actually went foraging up there, and got back safely with this load?”“Um!” said Joeboy. “Boss Val must have plenty to eat. Doppies nearly caught um.”“So I should expect,” I said. “But you nearly got shot, stealing up to the lines like this.”He laughed softly.“Boss Val wouldn’t shoot Joeboy. Doppies nearly ketch him. Big lot coming down now.”“What!” I said excitedly. “Some of them coming down?”“Um! Big lot coming down to fight.”I began to grasp now that after all there was some night expedition on the way, and that the pile of haversacks Joeboy had found had been deposited there to leave the men free and unfettered.“Look here,” I said sharply; “are you sure that the Doppies are coming down?”“Um! Great big lot.”“Here, you,” I whispered, “wake up!” and I shook and shook the sentry roughly, making him spring up and make a snatch at his rifle.“Thank ye,” he said. “I say, I was nearly dropping off to sleep.”“Very,” I said dryly; “but keep awake now. My man here has just brought in news that the enemy are coming on down the pass.”“What—for a night-attack?”“Yes.”“The beasts!” he cried, and he raised his rifle to fire and give the alarm.“No, no,” I said; “don’t fire unless you see them. I’ll go and give the alarm. Stand fast till reinforcements come.—Here, Joeboy, bring your load into camp.”I led the way straight to the Colonel, being challenged twice before I reached the side where he, in company with his officers, lay sleeping in their horsemen’s heavy cloaks.All sprang up at once, and each started to rouse his following, with the result that in a few minutes the whole force was under arms and divided in two bodies to join the line of sentries who paced up and down the pass.It was only now I became aware of the Colonel’s plan of strategy, which was to defend the position as long as seemed wise, and then for each line to fold back, making the pivot of the movements the ends of the lines by the niche in the hillside where the horses were sheltered. Then, on the performance of this evolution, there would be a double line facing outward for the defence of the horses, in a position enormously strong from the impossibility of there being any attack from flanks or rear.So far we had no news of any attack threatening from the Boers who held the lower part of the pass; but scouts had been sent out in that direction to get in touch with the enemy, and their return was anxiously awaited where the men were in position; but the minutes glided by in the midst of a profound silence, and I began to feel a doubt about the correctness of Joeboy’s announcement.I was in the centre of the line which would receive the shock of the descending Boers, and Joeboy had stationed himself behind me as soon as he had bestowed his plunder in safety; and at last, as there was no sound to indicate that the enemy was on the move, I began to grow terribly impatient, feeling as I did that before long the Colonel and his officers would be reproaching me for giving a false alarm.“Are you quite sure, Joeboy?” I whispered, turning to him where he squatted with assagai in hand and his shield spread across his knees.“Um?” he whispered. “Yes, quite sure. Come soon.”They did not come soon, and I grew more and more excited and angry; but I refrained from questioning the black any more, feeling as I did the uselessness of that course, and being unwilling to bring down upon myself the reproof of the officers for talking at a time when the order had been passed for strict silence, so that the Boers might meet with a complete surprise.It seemed to me that an hour had passed, during which I stood behind the natural breastwork of a stone upon which my rifle rested, gazing straight away up the pass, and straining my sense of hearing to catch something to suggest that the enemy was in motion; but there was not a sound in the grim and desolate gap between the hills, and my beating heart sank lower and lower as I glanced back at Joeboy, who reached towards me.“Doppy long time,” he said, hardly above his breath.“They won’t come,” I whispered back angrily. “You fancied it all.”“Um?”“You fancied it all. They would not come on in the night.”“Boss Val wait a bit. Come soon.”“Ugh!” I ejaculated; and a voice somewhere near whispered, “Silence in the ranks!” The command was needed, for a low murmur was beginning to make itself heard.All was still again directly after, and the time glided slowly on again, till that which I expected came suddenly; for I heard the trampling of feet behind me in the darkness, and a voice whispered, “Where’s that new recruit Moray?”“I am here, sir,” I said.“Quick! the Colonel wants you.”I left my post, and another man stepped into my place, while I followed the sergeant who had summoned me.“I say, young fellow,” he said, “you’re in for a bullying. The Colonel’s horribly wild about your false alarm. Are you sure the Doppies were coming on?”I told him what I had learned, and that I had felt obliged to report it.“Humph! Yes, of course; but it’s a great pity, when the men wanted rest.”The next minute I was facing the Colonel in the middle of the pass, where he stood with a group of the officers, about half-way between the two lines of men facing up and down, but lying so close that they were only visible here and there.“Oh, here you are, young fellow!” were the words that saluted me, spoken in a low, angry whisper. “Now then, where are these two attacking parties of Boers?”“I only reported that one was coming, sir—one descending the pass.”“Very well; you shall have credit for only one, then. Well, where is it?”“I can’t say, sir,” I replied. “I was warned of it by my native servant.”“Then just go back and flog your native servant till you have given him a lesson against spreading false alarms to rob tired men of their rest. It is perfectly abominable—just when we want all our strength for the work in hand for us to-morrow.”“I’m very sorry, sir,” I said.“Sorry? What must I be, then? I can’t fight unless I have plenty to eat and as much sleep as I can get. There, get back to your post. I wish to goodness you had stopped at home or joined the Boers, or done something else with yourself, instead of coming and giving this confounded false alarm. Be off.—Here, call in the men again, and— Yes, what now?”“Enemy coming up the pass in great strength, sir,” said one of the scouts, who had come breathlessly back.“What!” said the Colonel in a hurried whisper. “Could you make them out?”“Yes, sir; two or three hundred, I should say.”“You got near enough to see?”“I couldn’t see much, sir; but I could hear. They seemed to spread right across from the side I was on.”“Here, you, Moray,” said the Colonel, turning to me, for at this announcement I had stood fast. “Get back to your post; and I beg your pardon.—Yes; who are you?”—for another scout came in to endorse the words of the first. He had scouted down the other side of the widening pass, and according to his report the enemy could not be a quarter of a mile away.“Thank goodness!” said the Colonel fervently. “Mr Moray, I spoke in haste and disappointment. Now then, gentlemen, perfect silence, please. I believe we shall hear some signal from below, and that is what the party above are waiting for. Then they will attack simultaneously, to give us a surprise, and we’re going to surprise them. Every one to his post, please; and then, at their first rush, let it be volleys and slow falling back, so as to keep them from breaking our too open formation.”The next minute every man was in his place, and the pass so dark and still that it was impossible to believe that a terrible conflict was so close at hand. As I stood waiting and listening for the enemy’s order to attack, I could feel my heart gothrob, throb, throb, throb, so hard that I seemed to be hearing it at the same time making a dull echo in my brain.Still there was no sign; and at last I began to go over my brief interview with the Colonel, and to wonder whether he would turn now upon the two scouts and charge them with having deceived themselves, for according to their report the enemy ought to have been upon us long before. I had got to this point when all at once I felt an arm upon my shoulder, and could just make out at the side and front of my face a big hand pointing forward towards the stones a hundred feet away.“Um!” whispered Joeboy, with his lips close to my ear. “See um now. Big lots.”“I can see nothing,” I whispered.“Joeboy can. Lie down ready. Boss Val going to shoot?”“When I get the order,” I said softly, and my heart beat more heavily than ever, for I felt now that the black must be right. I had had for years past proofs of the wonderful power of his sight, and had not a doubt that, though they were invisible to me, a large body of the enemy were clustering among the stones ready for the assault upon our position.Then I heard from somewhere below a faint, rushing, whistling sound, as of a firework, followed by a crack, and the white stars of a rocket lit up the sides of the pass and made the stones in front visible in a soft glare. The next instant from front and rear, almost simultaneously, there were flashes and a scattered roar, while the sides of the pass took up the reports, forming a deafening roll of thunder running down towards the plain.Before this was half-over there was the rush of men before us, the stones and the spaces between seeming to be alive with running and leaping Boers, shouting and cheering like mad as they came on, their purpose being to scare us and frighten the horses into a stampede, which, if it had followed, must have been equally fatal to their comrades attacking from the rear as it would have been to us; but, instead of the enemy being gratified by hearing the clattering of hundreds of hoofs, they were received by a series of sharp volleys proceeding from our two lines of men. These were so inadequately returned that the officers in the rear ran to and fro bidding us stand firm and keep up the fire, no attempt being made to fall back towards the gap where the horses were tethered.Those were tremendously exciting minutes, and in the confusion, the crack of the rifles, and the reverberations, I hardly know what I did, except that I kept on firing without taking aim, for the simple reason that there was nothing visible in the smoke and darkness unless one had tried to aim at a spot from whence flashes came; and as the men attacking us were constantly on the move, that would have been useless.I found afterwards, on talking to the men above me, that they had behaved in precisely the same way as I did—they kept on firing; while all were in constant expectation of having to club their rifles to beat back the enemy should they come on with a rush.However, we never came to close quarters that night; for, failing in sweeping our men back in the first surprise, the enemy drew off a short distance till all were well under cover, and then kept up their fire, each party of the enemy seeming utterly regardless of the risk to their own comrades beyond us.In the midst of the roar and reverberation I was startled by a hand laid upon my shoulder, and, turning sharply, I found the sergeant by my side.“Fall back,” he said; and as I obeyed I thrust my hand to my cartridge-belt so as to reload, when, to my utter astonishment, I found it was two-thirds empty. This was soon remedied; for, as we—that is to say, about half the defenders of the upper side of our stronghold—stood fast, non-commissioned officers came running along and thrust packets of cartridges into our hands.It was, as I have said, very dark; but I could just manage to see beneath the canopy of smoke which rose slowly that half the lower line of defenders had fallen back. Directly after, we were all hurried to the front of the great niche and ordered to man the rocks there in front of the horses.While settling ourselves in every advantageous position we could find, the firing went on as briskly as ever, the Boers blazing away at our two lines of men, who replied as fast as they could load; and, as far as I could tell by the sound, the fusillade did not slacken.Then I began to understand what was about to happen, and could not help laughing to myself when I saw the part of our line we had left firing suddenly come hurrying in, to pass through an opening in our ranks; and no sooner were they safe than the lower line fell back and came running into the shelter, to join up with the others.As soon as these detachments were out of the way we had orders to fire four cartridges each, half of us firing as well up the pass as possible, the other half to fire as far downwards as they could. After these four rounds each we were to cease firing: this was, of course, to prevent the Boers from noticing that our fire had slackened and then ceased; and it answered exactly as the Colonel had intended, for the bull-headed and obstinate enemy went on for the next half-hour firing away at the stones where we had been, each side believing that a portion of the reports and echoes were caused by our firing, and all the time our men stood laughing and enjoying the blunder, and pretty sure that the enemy must be bringing down some of their own comrades. Whether the enemy found this out at last, or were dissatisfied at not being able to silence our fire, I don’t know; but suddenly there was another train of sparks rushing up through the smoke, and the bursting of a rocket far on high, sending down a dingy bluish light through the overhanging cloud. Then the firing stopped as if by magic.Instantly every man was on thequi vive, the front of the niche bristling with rifles ready to deliver volley after volley as soon as the rush we all expected began; but we waited in vain. When skirmishers were sent out to feel their way cautiously in the darkness, through which the smoke was slowly rising, we still waited and listened, expecting to hear them fired upon; but again we waited in vain. Both parties of the enemy had retired for the night; and, as soon as the Colonel was satisfied of this, the necessary advance-posts were sent out and stationed, and the men then ordered to lie down on their arms and get what sleep they could.
It was a strange experience for one who had come fresh from a home life; and in the intervals of tiring I could not help wondering whether it was not all a dream. The reality, however, forced itself on me too strongly as the light went on, the spaces about the stones being literally littered with battered bullets which had assumed all kinds of strange shapes after coming in contact with the stones—flat, mushroom-shaped, twisted, the conical points struck off diagonally, and the like; but we were so sheltered that if the Boers fired low we were unhurt, and if they fired high their shots went over among comrades. Signals were now made from above and below, with the result that the attacking party coming down the pass divided, to line the sides of the place as far as they could, so that their shots crossed our defences, and the attacking party from below followed their old tactics; thus our defences were swept by a cross-fire, and fewer Boers fell by the bullets of their friends. But these movements on the part of the Boers had brought them better within range of our pieces, for they were more exposed upon climbing up the slopes; and I had plain evidence of the loss they sustained.
At last night began to fall, and the firing of the attacking force, dropped off. It was plain that the Boers were retiring, possibly disheartened by their heavy losses. Then, soon after dark, lights began to appear, just out of range, both up and down the pass; but it was probable that the fight would be resumed as soon as it was daylight again.
Two-thirds of the men were now set at liberty to take what rest and refreshment they could, the remaining third being upon sentry-duty, ready to give the alarm should a night attack be attempted; but of this there was little probability.
Taking advantage of not being on sentry-duty, I made my way to the niche in the mountain-side which had been taken for hospital purposes, and here found Denham rolled up in a horseman’s cloak and sleeping peacefully. I felt his forehead gently, and then his wrists and hands, to find all cool and comfortable; but I knew I must not wake him. Just then a figure close by stirred, and I started, for a voice said, “He’s asleep.”
“Yes, I know,” I replied; “but has he been awake?”
“Yes; an hour ago.”
“How did he seem?” I asked.
“Said it hurt him a deal, just as if his ribs were broken. Ah! he doesn’t know what pain is.”
“Do you?” I said.
“Rather!” said the man. “One of their bullets went right through my thigh just about six inches below my hip. That is pain. It’s just as if a red-hot iron was being pushed through.”
“Can I get anything for you?” I said.
“No,” was the gruff reply; “unless you can get me a heap of patience to bear all this pain.”
I tried to say a few comforting words to him, but they only seemed to irritate.
“Don’t,” he said peevishly. “I know you want to be kind, my lad; but I’m not myself now, and it only makes me feel mad. There, thank ye for it all; but please go before I say something ungrateful.”
I crept away and tried to find the doctor who was with the corps; but he was busy with his wounded men, of whom he had about twenty. Giving up the satisfaction of getting his report about the young Lieutenant, I went to where Sandho was picketed with the rest, and stood by his head for about half-an-hour, petting and caressing him, before going back towards the rough breastwork—partly natural, partly artificial—which served as a shelter from the bullets.
I soon came upon one of the sentries, who challenged me; but he made room for me beside him after a few words had passed.
“Oh yes,” he said, “you can stay here if you like; but why don’t you go and lie down till you have to relieve guard?”
“Because I feel too excited to sleep,” I replied.
“Humph! Yes, it has been warm work,” said the sentry; “but I suppose we shall get used to it. I’m excited; but I feel as if I’d give anything to lie down for an hour.”
“Well, lie down,” I said. “I’ll keep watch for you.”
“You will?” he said joyfully. “No, no; I’m not going to break down like that. Don’t say any more about it. It’s like tempting a man. Here, I say,” he whispered eagerly, “how quiet they are! You don’t think they’re going to make a night attack—do you?”
“No,” I said; “it’s not likely. What good could they do when they couldn’t see to shoot?”
“None, of course. It’s not as if they were soldiers with bayonets. The only thing they could do would be to stampede the horses.”
“What!” I whispered excitedly. “Oh, I say, don’t talk like that.”
“Only a bit of an idea that came into my head. Don’t see anything—do you?”
“Nothing,” I replied. “It’s dark; but there’s a curious transparent look about the night, and I think we should see any one directly if he were advancing.”
“How? I don’t see that’s at all likely.”
“If any one passed along it would be like a shadow crossing the grey stones. They look quite grey in the starlight.”
“Well, yes, they do,” he said; “and—I say, what’s that?”
He pointed towards the Boers’ camp-fires, and, startled by his tone, I looked eagerly in the direction pointed out; but there were the piles of grey stones looking dull and shadowy, but no sign to me of anything else.
“Fancy,” I said.
“No. Just as you spoke I saw something dark go across one of the stones. Shall I fire?”
“Certainly not. It would be alarming every one for nothing. We talked about seeing things pass the grey stones, and that made you think you saw some one.”
“Perhaps so,” he said thoughtfully. “Anyhow, there’s nothing here now. I say, that seems to have woke me up.”
“It would,” I said; and then I crouched a little lower, shading my eyes from the starlight and keenly sweeping the chaotic wilderness of rocks again and again, but seeing nothing.
I heard, though, the steps of the sentry away to my left, and soon after a faint cough to my right sounded quite loudly.
“It wouldn’t have done for you to have gone to sleep with me taking your place, for I suppose some officer will be visiting the posts before very long, and then you’d have been found out if I hadn’t woke you in time.”
I said this in a low tone not much above a whisper, in case any one was going the rounds; but he did not take any notice.
“It wouldn’t have done, you know,” I said.
There was a low, heavy sighing breath, which made me start in wonder, and then turn towards my companion, to find that his rifle was resting against the stone, and that he had sunk sidewise against another and was fast asleep.
“Completely fagged out,” I said to myself, with a feeling of pity for him. “He did fight bravely against it; but the drowsiness was too much for him.”
One moment I felt ready to take hold of his arm and shake him, but I did not. I was there with his rifle ready to my hand, and if I kept his watch, perhaps only for a few minutes, he would wake up again, refreshed and better able to keep it till he was relieved.
“It often is so,” I said to myself. “One drops asleep after dinner, and then wakes up ready to go for any length of time. It’s being a good comrade to the poor fellow,” I thought; and, picking up his rifle, I took over his duty just as if it were my own, keeping my eyes wandering over the dark grey stones in front, and sweeping the whole space. Then my breath suddenly felt as if checked in my surprise, for about thirty yards away, as near as I could guess, there was a dark shadow passing one of the great blocks.
“Fancy,” I said to myself as soon as I could recover from my surprise; and, treating myself as I had treated my fellow-trooper, I mentally declared I had thought about it till I seemed to see it.
“It’s all imagination,” I said again; and then I lowered the rifle I held, a thrill running through me as I distinctly saw the dark shadow again, but nearer than before. This time I was certain it was not imagination. A figure—enemy or no—was cautiously stealing towards our lines! My first impulse was to fire at the figure and give the alarm; but on second thoughts I hesitated to go to such an extreme. Fixing my eyes upon the dark, shadowy form, I cocked my rifle, and called hoarsely upon whoever it was to stop.
“Ah! No shoot, no shoot,” cried a familiar voice.
“Joeboy!” I exclaimed.
“Um!” was the reply; and, to my astonishment, the black came hurrying towards me, bending under a load which stuck out curiously from his sides and back.
“Why, what have you been doing out there?”
“Been get all these,” he said as he forced his way between a couple of stones, which caught his bulky load and checked him for a few moments.
“You idiot!” I said in a low tone, for I was afraid now that I had alarmed the sentries on either side; but though Joeboy’s load on one side bumped against my companion sentry, he was so utterly wearied out that he did not stir.
“Um? Idiot?” said Joeboy. “Boss Val going to be hungry. Joeboy hungry. Been to get all these.”
“What are they—forage-bags?”
“Um!” he said.
“But where did you get them—whose are they?”
“Doppies’. All in a heap. Brought them all along.”
A little further questioning made it all clear—that under cover of the darkness the plucky fellow had crept up the valley, taking advantage of the shelter afforded by the stones, passed the lines of the Boers, and hunted about till he came upon something worth having in the shape of a pile of canvas forage-bags containing the men’s provender, which they had left together and in charge of a sentinel, so as to be unencumbered in their attack upon us.
“But what about the sentry?” I said suspiciously.
“Um? Fast asleep,” said Joeboy.
“What! all the time you were loading yourself with these bags?”
“Um!”
“You did not send him to sleep, did you?” I said suspiciously.
“Um? Killum?”
“Yes.”
“No,” said Joeboy coolly. “Didn’t wake up. Lot more couldn’t carry. Plenty to eat now.”
“Then you actually went foraging up there, and got back safely with this load?”
“Um!” said Joeboy. “Boss Val must have plenty to eat. Doppies nearly caught um.”
“So I should expect,” I said. “But you nearly got shot, stealing up to the lines like this.”
He laughed softly.
“Boss Val wouldn’t shoot Joeboy. Doppies nearly ketch him. Big lot coming down now.”
“What!” I said excitedly. “Some of them coming down?”
“Um! Big lot coming down to fight.”
I began to grasp now that after all there was some night expedition on the way, and that the pile of haversacks Joeboy had found had been deposited there to leave the men free and unfettered.
“Look here,” I said sharply; “are you sure that the Doppies are coming down?”
“Um! Great big lot.”
“Here, you,” I whispered, “wake up!” and I shook and shook the sentry roughly, making him spring up and make a snatch at his rifle.
“Thank ye,” he said. “I say, I was nearly dropping off to sleep.”
“Very,” I said dryly; “but keep awake now. My man here has just brought in news that the enemy are coming on down the pass.”
“What—for a night-attack?”
“Yes.”
“The beasts!” he cried, and he raised his rifle to fire and give the alarm.
“No, no,” I said; “don’t fire unless you see them. I’ll go and give the alarm. Stand fast till reinforcements come.—Here, Joeboy, bring your load into camp.”
I led the way straight to the Colonel, being challenged twice before I reached the side where he, in company with his officers, lay sleeping in their horsemen’s heavy cloaks.
All sprang up at once, and each started to rouse his following, with the result that in a few minutes the whole force was under arms and divided in two bodies to join the line of sentries who paced up and down the pass.
It was only now I became aware of the Colonel’s plan of strategy, which was to defend the position as long as seemed wise, and then for each line to fold back, making the pivot of the movements the ends of the lines by the niche in the hillside where the horses were sheltered. Then, on the performance of this evolution, there would be a double line facing outward for the defence of the horses, in a position enormously strong from the impossibility of there being any attack from flanks or rear.
So far we had no news of any attack threatening from the Boers who held the lower part of the pass; but scouts had been sent out in that direction to get in touch with the enemy, and their return was anxiously awaited where the men were in position; but the minutes glided by in the midst of a profound silence, and I began to feel a doubt about the correctness of Joeboy’s announcement.
I was in the centre of the line which would receive the shock of the descending Boers, and Joeboy had stationed himself behind me as soon as he had bestowed his plunder in safety; and at last, as there was no sound to indicate that the enemy was on the move, I began to grow terribly impatient, feeling as I did that before long the Colonel and his officers would be reproaching me for giving a false alarm.
“Are you quite sure, Joeboy?” I whispered, turning to him where he squatted with assagai in hand and his shield spread across his knees.
“Um?” he whispered. “Yes, quite sure. Come soon.”
They did not come soon, and I grew more and more excited and angry; but I refrained from questioning the black any more, feeling as I did the uselessness of that course, and being unwilling to bring down upon myself the reproof of the officers for talking at a time when the order had been passed for strict silence, so that the Boers might meet with a complete surprise.
It seemed to me that an hour had passed, during which I stood behind the natural breastwork of a stone upon which my rifle rested, gazing straight away up the pass, and straining my sense of hearing to catch something to suggest that the enemy was in motion; but there was not a sound in the grim and desolate gap between the hills, and my beating heart sank lower and lower as I glanced back at Joeboy, who reached towards me.
“Doppy long time,” he said, hardly above his breath.
“They won’t come,” I whispered back angrily. “You fancied it all.”
“Um?”
“You fancied it all. They would not come on in the night.”
“Boss Val wait a bit. Come soon.”
“Ugh!” I ejaculated; and a voice somewhere near whispered, “Silence in the ranks!” The command was needed, for a low murmur was beginning to make itself heard.
All was still again directly after, and the time glided slowly on again, till that which I expected came suddenly; for I heard the trampling of feet behind me in the darkness, and a voice whispered, “Where’s that new recruit Moray?”
“I am here, sir,” I said.
“Quick! the Colonel wants you.”
I left my post, and another man stepped into my place, while I followed the sergeant who had summoned me.
“I say, young fellow,” he said, “you’re in for a bullying. The Colonel’s horribly wild about your false alarm. Are you sure the Doppies were coming on?”
I told him what I had learned, and that I had felt obliged to report it.
“Humph! Yes, of course; but it’s a great pity, when the men wanted rest.”
The next minute I was facing the Colonel in the middle of the pass, where he stood with a group of the officers, about half-way between the two lines of men facing up and down, but lying so close that they were only visible here and there.
“Oh, here you are, young fellow!” were the words that saluted me, spoken in a low, angry whisper. “Now then, where are these two attacking parties of Boers?”
“I only reported that one was coming, sir—one descending the pass.”
“Very well; you shall have credit for only one, then. Well, where is it?”
“I can’t say, sir,” I replied. “I was warned of it by my native servant.”
“Then just go back and flog your native servant till you have given him a lesson against spreading false alarms to rob tired men of their rest. It is perfectly abominable—just when we want all our strength for the work in hand for us to-morrow.”
“I’m very sorry, sir,” I said.
“Sorry? What must I be, then? I can’t fight unless I have plenty to eat and as much sleep as I can get. There, get back to your post. I wish to goodness you had stopped at home or joined the Boers, or done something else with yourself, instead of coming and giving this confounded false alarm. Be off.—Here, call in the men again, and— Yes, what now?”
“Enemy coming up the pass in great strength, sir,” said one of the scouts, who had come breathlessly back.
“What!” said the Colonel in a hurried whisper. “Could you make them out?”
“Yes, sir; two or three hundred, I should say.”
“You got near enough to see?”
“I couldn’t see much, sir; but I could hear. They seemed to spread right across from the side I was on.”
“Here, you, Moray,” said the Colonel, turning to me, for at this announcement I had stood fast. “Get back to your post; and I beg your pardon.—Yes; who are you?”—for another scout came in to endorse the words of the first. He had scouted down the other side of the widening pass, and according to his report the enemy could not be a quarter of a mile away.
“Thank goodness!” said the Colonel fervently. “Mr Moray, I spoke in haste and disappointment. Now then, gentlemen, perfect silence, please. I believe we shall hear some signal from below, and that is what the party above are waiting for. Then they will attack simultaneously, to give us a surprise, and we’re going to surprise them. Every one to his post, please; and then, at their first rush, let it be volleys and slow falling back, so as to keep them from breaking our too open formation.”
The next minute every man was in his place, and the pass so dark and still that it was impossible to believe that a terrible conflict was so close at hand. As I stood waiting and listening for the enemy’s order to attack, I could feel my heart gothrob, throb, throb, throb, so hard that I seemed to be hearing it at the same time making a dull echo in my brain.
Still there was no sign; and at last I began to go over my brief interview with the Colonel, and to wonder whether he would turn now upon the two scouts and charge them with having deceived themselves, for according to their report the enemy ought to have been upon us long before. I had got to this point when all at once I felt an arm upon my shoulder, and could just make out at the side and front of my face a big hand pointing forward towards the stones a hundred feet away.
“Um!” whispered Joeboy, with his lips close to my ear. “See um now. Big lots.”
“I can see nothing,” I whispered.
“Joeboy can. Lie down ready. Boss Val going to shoot?”
“When I get the order,” I said softly, and my heart beat more heavily than ever, for I felt now that the black must be right. I had had for years past proofs of the wonderful power of his sight, and had not a doubt that, though they were invisible to me, a large body of the enemy were clustering among the stones ready for the assault upon our position.
Then I heard from somewhere below a faint, rushing, whistling sound, as of a firework, followed by a crack, and the white stars of a rocket lit up the sides of the pass and made the stones in front visible in a soft glare. The next instant from front and rear, almost simultaneously, there were flashes and a scattered roar, while the sides of the pass took up the reports, forming a deafening roll of thunder running down towards the plain.
Before this was half-over there was the rush of men before us, the stones and the spaces between seeming to be alive with running and leaping Boers, shouting and cheering like mad as they came on, their purpose being to scare us and frighten the horses into a stampede, which, if it had followed, must have been equally fatal to their comrades attacking from the rear as it would have been to us; but, instead of the enemy being gratified by hearing the clattering of hundreds of hoofs, they were received by a series of sharp volleys proceeding from our two lines of men. These were so inadequately returned that the officers in the rear ran to and fro bidding us stand firm and keep up the fire, no attempt being made to fall back towards the gap where the horses were tethered.
Those were tremendously exciting minutes, and in the confusion, the crack of the rifles, and the reverberations, I hardly know what I did, except that I kept on firing without taking aim, for the simple reason that there was nothing visible in the smoke and darkness unless one had tried to aim at a spot from whence flashes came; and as the men attacking us were constantly on the move, that would have been useless.
I found afterwards, on talking to the men above me, that they had behaved in precisely the same way as I did—they kept on firing; while all were in constant expectation of having to club their rifles to beat back the enemy should they come on with a rush.
However, we never came to close quarters that night; for, failing in sweeping our men back in the first surprise, the enemy drew off a short distance till all were well under cover, and then kept up their fire, each party of the enemy seeming utterly regardless of the risk to their own comrades beyond us.
In the midst of the roar and reverberation I was startled by a hand laid upon my shoulder, and, turning sharply, I found the sergeant by my side.
“Fall back,” he said; and as I obeyed I thrust my hand to my cartridge-belt so as to reload, when, to my utter astonishment, I found it was two-thirds empty. This was soon remedied; for, as we—that is to say, about half the defenders of the upper side of our stronghold—stood fast, non-commissioned officers came running along and thrust packets of cartridges into our hands.
It was, as I have said, very dark; but I could just manage to see beneath the canopy of smoke which rose slowly that half the lower line of defenders had fallen back. Directly after, we were all hurried to the front of the great niche and ordered to man the rocks there in front of the horses.
While settling ourselves in every advantageous position we could find, the firing went on as briskly as ever, the Boers blazing away at our two lines of men, who replied as fast as they could load; and, as far as I could tell by the sound, the fusillade did not slacken.
Then I began to understand what was about to happen, and could not help laughing to myself when I saw the part of our line we had left firing suddenly come hurrying in, to pass through an opening in our ranks; and no sooner were they safe than the lower line fell back and came running into the shelter, to join up with the others.
As soon as these detachments were out of the way we had orders to fire four cartridges each, half of us firing as well up the pass as possible, the other half to fire as far downwards as they could. After these four rounds each we were to cease firing: this was, of course, to prevent the Boers from noticing that our fire had slackened and then ceased; and it answered exactly as the Colonel had intended, for the bull-headed and obstinate enemy went on for the next half-hour firing away at the stones where we had been, each side believing that a portion of the reports and echoes were caused by our firing, and all the time our men stood laughing and enjoying the blunder, and pretty sure that the enemy must be bringing down some of their own comrades. Whether the enemy found this out at last, or were dissatisfied at not being able to silence our fire, I don’t know; but suddenly there was another train of sparks rushing up through the smoke, and the bursting of a rocket far on high, sending down a dingy bluish light through the overhanging cloud. Then the firing stopped as if by magic.
Instantly every man was on thequi vive, the front of the niche bristling with rifles ready to deliver volley after volley as soon as the rush we all expected began; but we waited in vain. When skirmishers were sent out to feel their way cautiously in the darkness, through which the smoke was slowly rising, we still waited and listened, expecting to hear them fired upon; but again we waited in vain. Both parties of the enemy had retired for the night; and, as soon as the Colonel was satisfied of this, the necessary advance-posts were sent out and stationed, and the men then ordered to lie down on their arms and get what sleep they could.
Chapter Fifteen.The Sergeant’s Wound.There were the hard stones for our couches, and the air up in the pass was sharp and cold; but we were all pretty close together, and in five minutes it did not seem as if any one was awake, though doubtless the few poor fellows who had been wounded—I may say wonderfully few considering what we had gone through—did not get much sleep. I was one of those who did lie awake for a time, gazing up at the clear, bright stars which began to peer down through the clearing-off smoke, but only for a few minutes; then a calm, restful feeling began to steal over me, and I was sleeping as sound as if on one of the feather-beds at the farm, where in course of years they had grown plentiful and big.We were not, however, to pass the night in peace; for directly after, as it seemed to me, I started up in the darkness, roused by firing. Then the trumpet-call rang out, and we were all up ready for the rush that was in progress; while I was startled and confused, and unable to understand why the now mounted Boers should be guilty of such an insane action as to attack us there, nestling among the stones. We were all ready, but no orders came to fire, and all crouched or stood with finger on trigger, gradually grasping what it all meant, and listening to the trampling of hoofs going steadily on, till at last the Colonel’s familiar voice was heard from close to where I stood.“Hold your fire, my lads. We should be doing no good by bringing a few down. Let them join their friends. They’ve come to the conclusion that this is too hard a nut to crack.”This is what happened: the enemy’s lower party had waited till nearly daylight, and then approached quietly till their coming had been noticed by our outpost sentries, who fired to give the alarm, when they made a sudden dash to get up the pass to join the detachment of Boers above. This they were allowed to do unmolested, the Colonel saying that nothing was to be gained by stopping them, and that an advance up the pass was work for infantry, not for a mounted force.Daylight came soon afterwards, I suppose; but I did not watch for the dawn, for, as soon as the last of the horsemen had passed and the word was given, I sank down again and slept as a tired lad can sleep. Again, as it seemed, only a few minutes expired before the trumpet once more rang out, and I had to shake myself together, when the first face that looked into mine was that of Joeboy, who was standing close by me with a heap of haversacks at his feet, and grinning at me with a good-humoured smile. I didn’t smile, for I felt stiff and full of aches and pains; but before long fires were burning and water getting hot. I had a good shower-bath, too, in a gurgling spring of water which came down a rift by the gap in the pass. Then sweet hot coffee and slices of bread and cold ham out of one of the haversacks Joeboy had foraged for seemed to quite alter the face of nature. Perhaps it was that the sun came out warm and bright, and that the blue sky was beautiful; but I gave the bread, ham, and coffee the credit of it all. Ah! what a breakfast that was! It seemed to me the most delicious I had ever eaten; but before it was begun I had been to see Denham, who was sitting up with his chest tightly bandaged. He was ready to hold out a hand as soon as he saw me.“Hullo, Moray!” he cried, “how are you this morning?”“It’s how are you?” I replied.“Oh, I’m all right. A bit stiff, and I’ve got a bruise in the back, the doctor says, like; the top of a silk hat.”“You haven’t seen it?” I said.“Have I got a neck like an ostrich or a giraffe? No, of course I haven’t.”“But is anything broken?” I asked anxiously.“No, not even cracked. The pot’s quite sound, so the doctor hasn’t put in a single rivet.”“I am glad,” I said heartily.“That’s right—thank you,” said the poor fellow, smiling pleasantly, and he kept his eyes fixed upon me for some moments. Then in a light bantering way he went on, “Doctor said the well-worn old thing.”“What was that?” I asked.“Oh, that if it hadn’t been for that bullet and brass cartridge-case, backed up by the thick leather belt, that Boer’s bullet would have bored—now, now, you were going to laugh,” he cried.“That I wasn’t,” I said wonderingly. “What is there to laugh at?”“Oh, you thought I was making a pun: bored a hole right through me.”“Rubbish!” I said. “Just as if I should have thought so lightly about so terribly dangerous an injury.”“Good boy!” he cried merrily. “I like that. I see you’ve been very nicely brought up. That must be due to your aunt—aunt—aunt— What’s her name?”“Never mind,” I said shortly; “but if you can laugh and joke like that there’s no need for me to feel anxious about your hurt.”“Not a bit, Solomon,” he cried merrily. “There you go again, trying to make puns—solemn un—eh? I say, though, you do look solemn this morning, Val. I know: want your breakfast—eh!”“Had it,” I said, smiling now.“I do, my young recruit. I’m longing for a cup of hot coffee or tea. But I say, Val, my lad,” he continued, seriously now, “I haven’t felt in a very laughing humour while I lay awake part of the night.”“I suppose not,” I said earnestly. “It must have been very terrible to lie here listening to the fighting—wounded, too—and not able to join in.”“Well, yes, that was pretty bail; but I didn’t worry about that. I knew the Colonel would manage all right. I was worried.”“What worried you?” I said—“the pain?”“Oh no; I grinned and bore that. Here, come closer; I don’t want that chap to hear.”“What is it?” I said, closing up.“It was that business yesterday, when I was hit.”“Oh, I wouldn’t think about it,” I said.“Can’t help it. I did try precious hard to carry it off before I quite broke down.”“You bore it all like a hero,” I said.“No, I didn’t, lad. I bore it like a big boarding-school girl. Oh! it was pitiful. Fainted dead away.”“No wonder,” I replied, smiling. “You’re not made of cast-iron.”“Here, I say, you fellow,” he cried; “just you keep your position. None of your insolence, please. Recollect that you’re only a raw recruit, and I’m your officer.”“Certainly,” I said, smiling. “I thought we were both volunteers.”“So we are, old fellow, off duty; but it must be officer and private on duty. I say, tell me, though, about the boys and the Sergeant. Did they sneer?”“Sneer?” I cried indignantly. “You’re insulting the brave fellows. They carried you down splendidly, and I believe there wasn’t a man here who wouldn’t have died for you.”“But—but,” he said huskily, “they must have thought me very weak and girlish.”“I must have thought so too—eh?”“Of course,” he said, in a peculiar way.“Then, of course, I didn’t,” I cried warmly; “I thought you the bravest, pluckiest fellow I had ever seen.”“Lay it on thick, old fellow,” he said huskily; “butter away. Can’t you think of something a little stronger than plucky and brave—and—don’t take any notice of me, Val, old lad. I’m a bit weak this morning.”“Of course you are,” I said sharply, and dashed off at once into a fresh subject. “I say, I must go and hunt out the Sergeant. That was a nasty wound he got after you were hit.”My words had the right effect.“The Sergeant?” he cried. “Oh, poor old chap! we can’t spare him. Was he hurt badly?”“Oh no, he laughed it off, just as you did your injury; but I am afraid he has lost one finger.”“Ah, my young hero!” cried a cheery voice, and I started round and saluted, for it was the Colonel. “How’s the wound—eh?”“Oh, it isn’t a wound, sir,” said Denham rather impatiently. “Only a bad bruise.”“Very nearly something worse.—Morning, my lad:” this to me, and I felt the colour flush up into my cheeks. “You behaved uncommonly well last night, and we’re all very much indebted to you. Pretty good, this, for a recruit. I heartily wish you had been with us two or three months, and you should certainly have had your first stripes.”I mumbled out something about doing my best.“You did,” said the Colonel. “I’m sorry I spoke so hastily to you in my error. I didn’t know you two were friends.”“We are, sir,” said Denham warmly.“Oh, of course; I remember. You shot together some time ago.”“Yes, sir,” said Denham, “and I had a grand time with Val Moray, here—big game shooting.”“Not such big game shooting as you are going to have here,” said the Colonel. “I’m glad to see you so much better, Denham. Be careful, and mind what the doctor says to you.”He hurried away, and as soon as he had passed out of sight the Sergeant, with his arm in a sling, came up from where he had been waiting to ask how his young officer fared, giving me a friendly nod at the same time.“Oh, there’s nothing the matter with me, Briggs,” said Denham. “I shall be all right now. Thank you heartily, though, for what you did for me.”“Did for you, sir?” said the Sergeant gruffly. “I did nothing, only just in the way of duty.”“Oh, that was it—was it?” said Denham. “Then you did it uncommonly well—didn’t he, Moray?”“Splendidly,” I said, with a fair display of enthusiasm.“Look here, you, sir,” said the Sergeant very gruffly as he turned upon me; “young recruits to the corps have got all their work cut out to learn their duty, without criticising their superior officers. So just you hold your tongue.”“That’s a snub, Moray,” said Denham; “but never mind.—Look here, Sergeant, how’s your wound?”“Wound, sir?” he replied. “I haven’t got any wound.”“Then why is your arm in a sling?”“Oh, that, sir? That’s a bit of the doctor’s nonsense. He said I was to keep it on, so I suppose I must. But it isn’t a wound.”“What is it, then?” said Denham sharply.“Bullet cut my finger; that’s all.”“Did it cut it much?” asked Denham.“Took a little bit off, and I went to the doctor for a piece o’ sticking-plaster, and he as good as called me a fool.”“What did you say, then, to make him?”“I said nothing, sir, only that I wanted the plaster.”“Did he give you some?”“No, sir; but I suppose he wanted to try his new bag o’ tools, and got hold of me. ‘Hold still,’ he says, ‘or I shall give you chloroform.’ ‘Can’t you make it a drop o’ whisky, sir?’ I says. ‘Yes, if you behave yourself,’ he says. ‘Look here, I can’t plaster up a place like this. Your finger’s in rags, and the bone’s in splinters.’ ‘Oh, it’ll soon grow together, sir,’ I says. ‘Nothing of the kind, sir,’ he says; ‘it’ll go bad if I don’t make a clean job of it. Now then, shut your eyes, and sit still in that chair. I won’t hurt you much.’”“Did he?” said Denham.“Pretty tidy, sir; just about as much as he could. He takes out a tool or two, and before I knew where I was he’d made a clean cut or two and taken off some more of my finger, right down to the middle joint. ‘There,’ he says, as soon as he’d put some cotton-wool soaked with nasty stuff on the place, after sewing and plastering it up—‘there, that’ll heal up quickly and well now!’”“Of course,” said Denham. “Made a clean job of it.”“Clean job, sir?” said the Sergeant. “Well, yes, he did it clean enough, and so was the lint and stuff; but it’s made my finger so ugly. It looks horrid. I say, sir, do you think the finger’ll grow again?”“No, Briggs, I don’t; so you must make the best of it.”“But crabs’ and lobsters’ claws grow again, sir; for I’ve seen ’em do it at home, down in Cornwall.”“Yes; but we’re not crabs and lobsters, Sergeant. There, never mind about such a bit of a wound as that.”“I don’t, sir—not me; but it do look ugly, and feels as awkward as if I’d lost an arm. There, I must be off, sir. I’ve got to see to our poor fellows who are to go off in a wagon back to the town.”“How many were hurt?” said Denham eagerly.“Five; and pretty badly, too.”“Any one—” Then Denham stopped short.“No, sir, not one, thank goodness; but those lads won’t be on horseback again these two months to come. Doctor wanted me to go with the wagon, but I soon let him know that wouldn’t do.”“Poor fellows!” said Denham as soon as the Sergeant had gone. “That’s the horrible part of it, getting wounded and being sent back to hospital. It’s what I dread.”“You won’t attempt to mount to-day?” I said. “You’d better follow in one of the wagons.”“Think so?” he said quietly. “Well, we shall see.”I did see in the course of that morning. For, when the order was given to march, and the column wound down in and out among the stones of the pass, Denham was riding with the troop, looking rather white, and no doubt suffering a good deal; but he would not show it, and we rode away. For a despatch had been brought to the Colonel from the General in command of the forces, ordering the Light Horse to join him on the veldt a dozen miles away as soon as the British regiment of foot reached the mouth of the pass; and, as I afterwards learned, the Colonel’s orders were to keep away from the kopjes and mountainous passes, where the Boers had only to lie up and pick off all who approached, and wait for opportunities to attack them in the open.It was Denham who told me, and also what the Colonel said, his words being, “Then we shall do nothing, for the Doppies will take good care not to give us a chance to cut them up in the plains.”As we rode down the pass we could see some of the enemy’s sentries high up among the mountainous parts; but we were not to attack them there; and, with a good deal of growling amongst the men, we kept on. Then every one seemed to cheer up when, a couple of hours later, we came in sight of a long line of infantry steadily advancing, and the rocks rang soon afterwards with the men’s cheers as they drew up to let us pass.“No fear of the Boers getting past them,” said Denham to me. “I shouldn’t wonder if their orders are to mount the pass, go over the Nek, and hold it. Maybe we shall meet them again after we’ve made a circuit and got round the mountains and on to the plain.”
There were the hard stones for our couches, and the air up in the pass was sharp and cold; but we were all pretty close together, and in five minutes it did not seem as if any one was awake, though doubtless the few poor fellows who had been wounded—I may say wonderfully few considering what we had gone through—did not get much sleep. I was one of those who did lie awake for a time, gazing up at the clear, bright stars which began to peer down through the clearing-off smoke, but only for a few minutes; then a calm, restful feeling began to steal over me, and I was sleeping as sound as if on one of the feather-beds at the farm, where in course of years they had grown plentiful and big.
We were not, however, to pass the night in peace; for directly after, as it seemed to me, I started up in the darkness, roused by firing. Then the trumpet-call rang out, and we were all up ready for the rush that was in progress; while I was startled and confused, and unable to understand why the now mounted Boers should be guilty of such an insane action as to attack us there, nestling among the stones. We were all ready, but no orders came to fire, and all crouched or stood with finger on trigger, gradually grasping what it all meant, and listening to the trampling of hoofs going steadily on, till at last the Colonel’s familiar voice was heard from close to where I stood.
“Hold your fire, my lads. We should be doing no good by bringing a few down. Let them join their friends. They’ve come to the conclusion that this is too hard a nut to crack.”
This is what happened: the enemy’s lower party had waited till nearly daylight, and then approached quietly till their coming had been noticed by our outpost sentries, who fired to give the alarm, when they made a sudden dash to get up the pass to join the detachment of Boers above. This they were allowed to do unmolested, the Colonel saying that nothing was to be gained by stopping them, and that an advance up the pass was work for infantry, not for a mounted force.
Daylight came soon afterwards, I suppose; but I did not watch for the dawn, for, as soon as the last of the horsemen had passed and the word was given, I sank down again and slept as a tired lad can sleep. Again, as it seemed, only a few minutes expired before the trumpet once more rang out, and I had to shake myself together, when the first face that looked into mine was that of Joeboy, who was standing close by me with a heap of haversacks at his feet, and grinning at me with a good-humoured smile. I didn’t smile, for I felt stiff and full of aches and pains; but before long fires were burning and water getting hot. I had a good shower-bath, too, in a gurgling spring of water which came down a rift by the gap in the pass. Then sweet hot coffee and slices of bread and cold ham out of one of the haversacks Joeboy had foraged for seemed to quite alter the face of nature. Perhaps it was that the sun came out warm and bright, and that the blue sky was beautiful; but I gave the bread, ham, and coffee the credit of it all. Ah! what a breakfast that was! It seemed to me the most delicious I had ever eaten; but before it was begun I had been to see Denham, who was sitting up with his chest tightly bandaged. He was ready to hold out a hand as soon as he saw me.
“Hullo, Moray!” he cried, “how are you this morning?”
“It’s how are you?” I replied.
“Oh, I’m all right. A bit stiff, and I’ve got a bruise in the back, the doctor says, like; the top of a silk hat.”
“You haven’t seen it?” I said.
“Have I got a neck like an ostrich or a giraffe? No, of course I haven’t.”
“But is anything broken?” I asked anxiously.
“No, not even cracked. The pot’s quite sound, so the doctor hasn’t put in a single rivet.”
“I am glad,” I said heartily.
“That’s right—thank you,” said the poor fellow, smiling pleasantly, and he kept his eyes fixed upon me for some moments. Then in a light bantering way he went on, “Doctor said the well-worn old thing.”
“What was that?” I asked.
“Oh, that if it hadn’t been for that bullet and brass cartridge-case, backed up by the thick leather belt, that Boer’s bullet would have bored—now, now, you were going to laugh,” he cried.
“That I wasn’t,” I said wonderingly. “What is there to laugh at?”
“Oh, you thought I was making a pun: bored a hole right through me.”
“Rubbish!” I said. “Just as if I should have thought so lightly about so terribly dangerous an injury.”
“Good boy!” he cried merrily. “I like that. I see you’ve been very nicely brought up. That must be due to your aunt—aunt—aunt— What’s her name?”
“Never mind,” I said shortly; “but if you can laugh and joke like that there’s no need for me to feel anxious about your hurt.”
“Not a bit, Solomon,” he cried merrily. “There you go again, trying to make puns—solemn un—eh? I say, though, you do look solemn this morning, Val. I know: want your breakfast—eh!”
“Had it,” I said, smiling now.
“I do, my young recruit. I’m longing for a cup of hot coffee or tea. But I say, Val, my lad,” he continued, seriously now, “I haven’t felt in a very laughing humour while I lay awake part of the night.”
“I suppose not,” I said earnestly. “It must have been very terrible to lie here listening to the fighting—wounded, too—and not able to join in.”
“Well, yes, that was pretty bail; but I didn’t worry about that. I knew the Colonel would manage all right. I was worried.”
“What worried you?” I said—“the pain?”
“Oh no; I grinned and bore that. Here, come closer; I don’t want that chap to hear.”
“What is it?” I said, closing up.
“It was that business yesterday, when I was hit.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t think about it,” I said.
“Can’t help it. I did try precious hard to carry it off before I quite broke down.”
“You bore it all like a hero,” I said.
“No, I didn’t, lad. I bore it like a big boarding-school girl. Oh! it was pitiful. Fainted dead away.”
“No wonder,” I replied, smiling. “You’re not made of cast-iron.”
“Here, I say, you fellow,” he cried; “just you keep your position. None of your insolence, please. Recollect that you’re only a raw recruit, and I’m your officer.”
“Certainly,” I said, smiling. “I thought we were both volunteers.”
“So we are, old fellow, off duty; but it must be officer and private on duty. I say, tell me, though, about the boys and the Sergeant. Did they sneer?”
“Sneer?” I cried indignantly. “You’re insulting the brave fellows. They carried you down splendidly, and I believe there wasn’t a man here who wouldn’t have died for you.”
“But—but,” he said huskily, “they must have thought me very weak and girlish.”
“I must have thought so too—eh?”
“Of course,” he said, in a peculiar way.
“Then, of course, I didn’t,” I cried warmly; “I thought you the bravest, pluckiest fellow I had ever seen.”
“Lay it on thick, old fellow,” he said huskily; “butter away. Can’t you think of something a little stronger than plucky and brave—and—don’t take any notice of me, Val, old lad. I’m a bit weak this morning.”
“Of course you are,” I said sharply, and dashed off at once into a fresh subject. “I say, I must go and hunt out the Sergeant. That was a nasty wound he got after you were hit.”
My words had the right effect.
“The Sergeant?” he cried. “Oh, poor old chap! we can’t spare him. Was he hurt badly?”
“Oh no, he laughed it off, just as you did your injury; but I am afraid he has lost one finger.”
“Ah, my young hero!” cried a cheery voice, and I started round and saluted, for it was the Colonel. “How’s the wound—eh?”
“Oh, it isn’t a wound, sir,” said Denham rather impatiently. “Only a bad bruise.”
“Very nearly something worse.—Morning, my lad:” this to me, and I felt the colour flush up into my cheeks. “You behaved uncommonly well last night, and we’re all very much indebted to you. Pretty good, this, for a recruit. I heartily wish you had been with us two or three months, and you should certainly have had your first stripes.”
I mumbled out something about doing my best.
“You did,” said the Colonel. “I’m sorry I spoke so hastily to you in my error. I didn’t know you two were friends.”
“We are, sir,” said Denham warmly.
“Oh, of course; I remember. You shot together some time ago.”
“Yes, sir,” said Denham, “and I had a grand time with Val Moray, here—big game shooting.”
“Not such big game shooting as you are going to have here,” said the Colonel. “I’m glad to see you so much better, Denham. Be careful, and mind what the doctor says to you.”
He hurried away, and as soon as he had passed out of sight the Sergeant, with his arm in a sling, came up from where he had been waiting to ask how his young officer fared, giving me a friendly nod at the same time.
“Oh, there’s nothing the matter with me, Briggs,” said Denham. “I shall be all right now. Thank you heartily, though, for what you did for me.”
“Did for you, sir?” said the Sergeant gruffly. “I did nothing, only just in the way of duty.”
“Oh, that was it—was it?” said Denham. “Then you did it uncommonly well—didn’t he, Moray?”
“Splendidly,” I said, with a fair display of enthusiasm.
“Look here, you, sir,” said the Sergeant very gruffly as he turned upon me; “young recruits to the corps have got all their work cut out to learn their duty, without criticising their superior officers. So just you hold your tongue.”
“That’s a snub, Moray,” said Denham; “but never mind.—Look here, Sergeant, how’s your wound?”
“Wound, sir?” he replied. “I haven’t got any wound.”
“Then why is your arm in a sling?”
“Oh, that, sir? That’s a bit of the doctor’s nonsense. He said I was to keep it on, so I suppose I must. But it isn’t a wound.”
“What is it, then?” said Denham sharply.
“Bullet cut my finger; that’s all.”
“Did it cut it much?” asked Denham.
“Took a little bit off, and I went to the doctor for a piece o’ sticking-plaster, and he as good as called me a fool.”
“What did you say, then, to make him?”
“I said nothing, sir, only that I wanted the plaster.”
“Did he give you some?”
“No, sir; but I suppose he wanted to try his new bag o’ tools, and got hold of me. ‘Hold still,’ he says, ‘or I shall give you chloroform.’ ‘Can’t you make it a drop o’ whisky, sir?’ I says. ‘Yes, if you behave yourself,’ he says. ‘Look here, I can’t plaster up a place like this. Your finger’s in rags, and the bone’s in splinters.’ ‘Oh, it’ll soon grow together, sir,’ I says. ‘Nothing of the kind, sir,’ he says; ‘it’ll go bad if I don’t make a clean job of it. Now then, shut your eyes, and sit still in that chair. I won’t hurt you much.’”
“Did he?” said Denham.
“Pretty tidy, sir; just about as much as he could. He takes out a tool or two, and before I knew where I was he’d made a clean cut or two and taken off some more of my finger, right down to the middle joint. ‘There,’ he says, as soon as he’d put some cotton-wool soaked with nasty stuff on the place, after sewing and plastering it up—‘there, that’ll heal up quickly and well now!’”
“Of course,” said Denham. “Made a clean job of it.”
“Clean job, sir?” said the Sergeant. “Well, yes, he did it clean enough, and so was the lint and stuff; but it’s made my finger so ugly. It looks horrid. I say, sir, do you think the finger’ll grow again?”
“No, Briggs, I don’t; so you must make the best of it.”
“But crabs’ and lobsters’ claws grow again, sir; for I’ve seen ’em do it at home, down in Cornwall.”
“Yes; but we’re not crabs and lobsters, Sergeant. There, never mind about such a bit of a wound as that.”
“I don’t, sir—not me; but it do look ugly, and feels as awkward as if I’d lost an arm. There, I must be off, sir. I’ve got to see to our poor fellows who are to go off in a wagon back to the town.”
“How many were hurt?” said Denham eagerly.
“Five; and pretty badly, too.”
“Any one—” Then Denham stopped short.
“No, sir, not one, thank goodness; but those lads won’t be on horseback again these two months to come. Doctor wanted me to go with the wagon, but I soon let him know that wouldn’t do.”
“Poor fellows!” said Denham as soon as the Sergeant had gone. “That’s the horrible part of it, getting wounded and being sent back to hospital. It’s what I dread.”
“You won’t attempt to mount to-day?” I said. “You’d better follow in one of the wagons.”
“Think so?” he said quietly. “Well, we shall see.”
I did see in the course of that morning. For, when the order was given to march, and the column wound down in and out among the stones of the pass, Denham was riding with the troop, looking rather white, and no doubt suffering a good deal; but he would not show it, and we rode away. For a despatch had been brought to the Colonel from the General in command of the forces, ordering the Light Horse to join him on the veldt a dozen miles away as soon as the British regiment of foot reached the mouth of the pass; and, as I afterwards learned, the Colonel’s orders were to keep away from the kopjes and mountainous passes, where the Boers had only to lie up and pick off all who approached, and wait for opportunities to attack them in the open.
It was Denham who told me, and also what the Colonel said, his words being, “Then we shall do nothing, for the Doppies will take good care not to give us a chance to cut them up in the plains.”
As we rode down the pass we could see some of the enemy’s sentries high up among the mountainous parts; but we were not to attack them there; and, with a good deal of growling amongst the men, we kept on. Then every one seemed to cheer up when, a couple of hours later, we came in sight of a long line of infantry steadily advancing, and the rocks rang soon afterwards with the men’s cheers as they drew up to let us pass.
“No fear of the Boers getting past them,” said Denham to me. “I shouldn’t wonder if their orders are to mount the pass, go over the Nek, and hold it. Maybe we shall meet them again after we’ve made a circuit and got round the mountains and on to the plain.”