Chapter Seven.Refugees.It was shortly after noon when Jack set out from Kimberley on his long ride to Johannesburg, and as he could not expect to get there before the afternoon of 11th October, when the ultimatum addressed by President Kruger to the British Government expired, he determined to ride at a moderate pace, for he knew that Wilfred would wait for his arrival. But there was another matter to be considered. An Englishman would now be a marked man in the Transvaal or the Orange Free State, so that if he wished to get through undetected, he must choose the darkest hours for travelling, and lie up during the day.About five miles out from Kimberley he pulled up, knee-haltered his ponies, and sat down on a boulder, with a map of the two republics spread out before him.“Let me see!” he thought; “I must pick out a route which will be little frequented just now. The Transvaallers, I know, are rushing west and north to Mafeking and the northern border, and east and south towards Natal. The other fellows in the southern state are making down this way to Kimberley with some of the Transvaallers, and they are certain to combine at Bloemfontein, coming across country by train. The remainder go east to Natal. That leaves the Vaal River deserted, and that ought to be my direction. I will wait here till dusk, and then cut straight to the right into the Orange Free State, and make for the road to Hoopstad. From there I must manage to get to the neighbourhood of Reitzburg, cross the river, and trust to luck to get through the remaining distance. It will be touch and go, but, dressed as I am, I ought to have a chance.”And, indeed, looking at Jack anyone might have admitted the same. Clad in Mr Hunter’s old tweed suit, which was a size or two too big for him across the shoulders and round the waist, but all too short at wrists and ankles, he looked for all the world like the average Boer. Beneath his trousers he wore a pair of high riding-boots, round his neck was a blue woollen scarf, and on his head a dilapidated and weather-beaten felt hat. Over his left shoulder was a bandolier filled with cartridges, and hitched over the other, and drawn tight against his back so that the butt swung well free of his saddle, was his Lee-Metford rifle. In addition he carried a water-bottle, a mackintosh sheet, with a hole in the middle through which he could put his head, and his Mauser pistol, which was comfortably hidden away in its old position.Extra shoes, or implements for putting them on to his ponies, were not wanted, for in addition to their many other good points, these shaggy, unkempt-looking Basuto animals, though never shod, were nevertheless equally fast over grass or stony ground.It was still early in the day, and after riding on a few miles, Jack pulled up again and off-saddled, so as to rest his ponies. Whilst they set about foraging for themselves, he sat under a large eucalyptus-tree, pulled out his pipe and lit it, and proceeded to clean his rifle. A few hours later the shadow in which he sat had lengthened considerably, and he turned round towards the west to see the sun, which had been streaming down upon him all the day, just declining behind a far-distant range of mountains. It was a sight which set Jack moralising, for here, before his eyes, was a gorgeous scene, a fit subject for any artist. The sun was sinking in a splendour of gold and purple lights, and the heavens above it were decked with beautifully red and silver-streaked blue clouds, against which the jagged broken peaks of the mountains stood up boldly, while their rugged and boulder-strewn slopes, and the stretch of rolling veldt below, were already clouded with the shades of coming night. It was a peaceful scene, and why, thought Jack, should not all the beings dwelling within reach of it, or, for the matter of that, dwelling in a country capable of displaying such a prospect as lay before him, live in peace and good brotherhood with one another and enjoy it? South Africa was a vast country, so sparsely populated that one could ride for miles and miles without sighting so much as a roof or habitation, let alone a man. And yet no one thought of the beauties of the country. Other and deeper matters vexed their minds, and because they could not agree they were on the brink of a sanguinary war which would mean an awful loss of life, and—what then?“Mr Hunter says it’s a case of British supremacy,” he murmured. “Yes, that’s what it is, and that is what it shall be when the war is over.” And straightway Jack forgot all about the declining sun, and the peaceful landscape, and with a curious feeling of elation, which the thought of coming excitement had given him, knocked the ashes out of his pipe, jumped briskly to his feet, and set about saddling his ponies.Half an hour later it was dark, save for a small moon which just gave sufficient light to show the road. Jack vaulted into his saddle, hitched his rifle over his shoulder, shook the reins, and cantered off across the main road running north, and then on over the rolling veldt, which was just beginning to send forth a few blades of fresh green grass.Alternately cantering and walking, and changing from one pony to the other, he kept steadily on, the unshod hoofs of his animals making no sound, so that Jack had the advantage of being able to hear anyone approaching. Five hours later he stumbled upon the road from Kimberley to Hoopstad, and at once off-saddled to rest himself and his ponies for an hour.During that time no one passed, and having eaten a good meal of biscuit and hard-boiled eggs, he started again, riding along just by the side of the road, and turning on to it now and again, when the veldt was so strewn with boulders or cut up by nullahs and deep water-courses as to make it difficult for him to pick his way.About half an hour later he heard a low, murmuring sound in the distance, and in a few moments could plainly distinguish galloping hoofs. Instantly he turned on to the veldt, and made for a steep kopje a hundred yards off, amongst the boulders of which he quickly hid both himself and the animals.He was not a moment too soon, for just as he got Vic and Prince prone on the ground, and had seated himself on the quarters of one of them, a couple of horsemen came spurring up alongside the road, while three more at that moment galloped round from the farther side of the kopje on which he was hiding, looking ghostly and white in the faint rays of the moon. They all pulled up within a few yards of Jack, and one of them, whom he recognised at once as Hans Schloss, the fat and vindictive little German, turning in his saddle pointed to the top of the hill, and cried out: “Ha, my friends, there is the flag, and here we shall all gather before riding on to kill those pigs of Englishmen in Kimberley!”“That’s so,” another voice broke in. “That’s the flag kopje, and your friends the Transvaal burghers will be joining us at midnight. They are coming through from Bloemhof, and should be here in good time. Then, Hans, my boy, we shall ride for Kimberley, but as for killing the Rooineks, that is another matter. We shall not catch them napping. They are ready, but if the good Lord will give us strength we shall drive them out. Then, Hans, you shall kill them, and they shall be filled with fear at the sight of you. Ha, ha! you will frighten them out of their lives, my brave comrade!”The Boer chuckled audibly, and Hans Schloss, whose self-conceit and density were almost as pronounced as his fatness, failed to see the thinly-veiled sarcasm, and joined in heartily, dropping one hand upon his thigh and assuming such an attitude of importance that his companions roared at the sight.“Two days more, and we shall be over the border,” another of the Boers cried, when the laughter had died down, “and then there will be good work for all of us. For years we have waited, and now our dreams are to be realised. Even now most of the Uitlanders will have left us, and those who have not gone are hurrying as fast as possible to the frontiers. Well, they had better do so, for after 11th October it will be an evil day for any of them should we catch them. Only a few who have permits signed are to be allowed to stay, and those we will set to work at native labour. It will be more fitted for them.”“Yes,” chimed in another with a hoarse chuckle, “they shall be set to work at our trenches, and if an English bullet should pick them out, then all the better. But softly, Carl! In two days’ time we shall be rid of the Rooineks, ’tis true, but they are a stubborn nation, and these boys they send against us are filled with pluck. Our leaders have asked us to believe otherwise, but we, who have lived in the towns, know that it is not always so. They will fight us, and to the death. But we shall beat them, and then what a prospect there will be before us! Ourselves one of the big Dutch states of Africa, we shall have ships upon the sea, while here the natives will slave to dig out the gold and diamonds. Independence is a great thing, but for us who have seen something of the world besides a lonely farm, wealth and riches in abundance are more to be desired. And we shall get them by the help of these Kafirs, while we live the same old peaceful life. Then we shall sail over to London—if England still exists—and our old enemies will be glad to welcome the Boer millionaires who have come to visit them and help them with their gold.”What other wild dreams this bearded young man would have spoken of is difficult to guess, for at this moment a commando of Boer horsemen trotted up on the road. Within five minutes all had halted, and were seated upon the ground or boulders lying thickly everywhere, smoking their pipes and conversing in loud tones while they waited for the arrival of their friends who were following them, and for the burghers from the Transvaal who were to join with them in attacking Kimberley.All this time Jack had remained silently amongst the huge splintered rocks tumbled haphazard on the kopje, listening with all his ears, and ready at a moment’s notice to slip away and gallop for his life. He was in a precarious position, even more so than when a prisoner in the magazine near Volksrust. For here he was surrounded by a band of men armed to the teeth and ready for war, and only too willing to wreak their vengeance on the hated English. Glancing up at the top of the kopje, he noticed now what he had failed to see before, a broad flag, the vierkleur, flying from a post wedged between the rocks. A few seconds’ consideration showed him that his best course was to lie quietly where he was, without attempting to move, unless some Boer happened to discover him. His ponies lay as if dead upon the ground, and were not likely to betray him except by snorting or answering the neighs of other animals, and to guard against this he rapidly passed the thong employed in knee-haltering them round their muzzles, effectively preventing them from making a sound.Minutes passed, dragging terribly slowly for Jack, but at last there was a distant shout, and a few moments later a commando, about five hundred strong, rode silently across the veldt and pulled up on the road. Almost at the same instant a large force of men and wagons came up on the road from Hoopstad, and after all bad exchanged greetings, and a brief prayer had been recited by one of them, who was evidently in command, they scrambled into their saddles and set off at a walk.Jack watched them file past, in threes and fours, and in any kind of order. Then came the wagons, drawn by long spans of patient, toiling oxen, showing clearly in the white moonlight, so that several large pieces of cannon were visible. More wagons followed, heaped high with shell and cases of ammunition, while others contained sacks of flour and mealies, and a few Boer women who had cast in their lot with their men folk, and had come to act as cooks. There were also a few Kafir servants and drivers; while in rear of all rode a small body of bearded men, joking and laughing uproariously, and evidently in the highest spirits at the prospects before them. Jack gave them half an hour to get well away, and to make sure that there were no stragglers following. Then he cast off the thongs from the muzzles of Vic and Prince, and was soon cantering along by the side of the road as before in the direction of Hoopstad. By four in the morning, when the clouds in the east were beginning to brighten, he had ridden some sixty miles, and was within fifteen of Hoopstad. He now searched about for a secure hiding-place, and presently came across an isolated farm standing a few miles back from the road. Leaving his ponies hidden upon the side of another convenient kopje, he stole forward, and soon reached the building. There was no one about, not even a dog, and he at once boldly walked up to the door. It was locked, but a window he tried was unlatched, and Jack at once squeezed through it and drew up the blind. The farmhouse consisted of two large rooms, a kitchen and a bedroom, and both were empty.“Ah, all gone to the war!” thought Jack. “This place will suit me perfectly. It’s well away from the road, so that no one is likely to come near, and if anyone does, he will find the door locked, and will probably go away at once.”Unlocking the door, he went out and fetched his ponies, leading them into the farmhouse, and stabling them in the kitchen. Then he searched about in the few outhouses, and having discovered some straw and oats, came back and made his animals quite comfortable. Another journey procured water for them, and then, locking the door once more and pulling down the blind, Jack first indulged in a much-needed meal, and then lay down in a bed in the sleeping-room.When he awoke the sun was already more than half-way overhead, and as soon as it was dark he set out again, and by early morning had reached the neighbourhood of Reitzburg. Here he was forced to camp in the open, in a thick belt of scrub composed of acacias and mimosa shrubs, for there was no comfortable farmhouse available. But it was much the same to Jack. He enjoyed a good meal, watered Vic and Prince, knee-haltered them, and once more lay down to sleep.Early on the following morning, as day was beginning to break, he rode round to the back of Johannesburg and pulled up at Mr Hunter’s house. No one was to be seen, so he stabled his ponies, and then knocked loudly at the door.“Who’sthat?” Mr Hunter shouted from above; and then, when Jack had made himself known and had been admitted, cried in astonishment: “Good heavens, my boy! I did not expect you for two days at least, and perhaps not then, for I asked you to do an almost impossible thing. However have you managed to get here? My letter can only have reached you on the 9th at the earliest, and here you are at dawn on the 12th. But come in, my lad; you must be tired out, and will want a good sleep.”“Yes, I am a little done up,” Jack admitted. “I have been riding ever since dusk yesterday, and did the same for two whole nights before that. I have ridden every inch of the way from Kimberley, through Hoopstad and Reitzburg, and my legs and back are so stiff that I can scarcely move them. I think I’ll have a hot bath if I can get one, and then get Tom Thumb to rub me down with oil. A good tuck-in and a small nip of brandy will set me up again, and after a few hours’ sleep I shall be fit to start for the border.”Accordingly Jack jumped into a hot bath, and was well rubbed with oil. After that he partook of a good meal and at once turned in between beautifully-clean sheets, to which, down Kimberley way, he had been a total stranger, except when he and Tom returned from one of their expeditions.Almost before his head was on the pillow he was fast asleep, and when he woke again, feeling wonderfully refreshed, it was already getting dusk.“Ah, there you are!” cried Mr Hunter with satisfaction, when he made his appearance in the dining-room. “Now I will tell you what has happened since the ultimatum, and indeed since war became a certainty. On October let the governments at Pretoria and Bloemfontein called up their burghers, and since then our streets have been filled with men, all on their way to the front, armed and supplied with ammunition, and trusting to an iniquitous system of commandeering to obtain other necessaries. No one’s property has been safe, and we in Johannesburg have suffered, I believe, more heavily than any others. My store has been practically denuded of its contents, so that I now congratulate myself on having cancelled all expected consignments of goods from Durban for the past three months, and having cleared all goods remaining here as rapidly as possible. Some of my friends have not been so fortunate, and have lost everything valuable to men about to embark in a campaign. Horses have been seized everywhere, and there again I have been wise in time. Two weeks ago I sent over the four-wheeled cart and four good horses to Ted Ellison’s farm, ten miles out from here. They will be perfectly safe there, for Ted married a Boer girl five years ago, and she is a good little woman, who would gladly see all this trouble over and a British government here, with the usual peace and good order.“At the present moment my stables are cleared of everything save your two ponies, and they will be safe till you start, for the Boers have twice paid me a visit, and have commandeered every saddle and horse I had left.”“I’m glad to hear about the team and cart,” said Jack thoughtfully. “But why not take the train down to the border. Surely Kruger and his friends will grant all refugees a safe-conduct?”“Safe-conduct! A precious fine conduct they are giving us! Thousands of poor creatures are clamouring to be taken down, and have been doing so for these past three days. But what can you expect, Jack? It is a single line to Natal, and every inch of it is occupied in passing down trains laden with burghers. The refugees are quite a secondary matter, and by all accounts are experiencing cruel times. All available carriages are packed with Boers, and our poor country-people have to do as best they can in open cattle trucks or coal wagons.“Then every station is crammed with armed and excited Transvaallers, who have committed all sorts of detestable acts. I know this is the case, for Joe Pearson, who works on the railway in ordinary times, watched train after train of refugees passing through one of the stations. The older Boers are quiet and well conducted, but it is the younger men who have committed these excesses. Threatening to shoot helpless passengers is the least of them. They have actually kept the poor people in the sidings for as many as twenty-four hours, absolutely preventing their leaving the trucks to obtain food or water. It is really terrible. The unhappy women and children, who form a good proportion of the refugees, have been exposed to the weather for three days between here and Laing’s Nek, and you can imagine what that has meant, for you yourself experienced the heavy rain last night. I hear one or two of the children died on the way down.“It is dreadfully sad, terribly sad. But there is one consolation, England will demand a just retribution when the time comes.“That is why I have decided to send Mrs Hunter down by road, rather than let her run the risks of the journey by train. The horses are good ones, and ought to get you to Volksrust quicker than the rail; that is, of course, if they are not commandeered. If that were to happen, I suppose you would have to get to the nearest station. But I can leave that to you, Jack. You have an old head upon those broad shoulders of yours.”“I’ll do my best, never fear, Mr Hunter,” Jack exclaimed. “And now about starting. I suppose we had better do so at once. Mrs Hunter can ride Vic, and Wilfred and I will take it in turns to get on Prince’s back.”“Yes, I think you had better go at once, my lad. Mrs Hunter is ready, and Tom Thumb carried over a hamper of provisions to Ted Ellison’s last night. All I shall ask you to carry is this bag of notes and gold-dust. Wilfred has another, and Mrs Hunter a third. I shall stay here to look after the house and property, and to keep an eye on the mines. I have already asked for a permit, and ought to get it, as I am one of the oldest residents here.”“By the way, Mr Hunter,” said Jack suddenly, “this is the 12th. Has the war begun yet? I suppose it has, as these Boer fellows seem to have been in readiness long ago.“Yes, it has already opened with a sharp affair with an armoured train below Mafeking, and I am sorry to say our boys, under Captain Nesbit, V.C., were taken prisoners. The news has only just reached us, but it appears they made a gallant stand before they were taken, and accounted for a few of the Boers. They were running up from Kimberley to Mafeking, and suddenly came upon a part where the rails had been broken up. It was a regular trap, for the enemy had their guns already laid for it, and used them freely. Well, it is just the opening incident of a long campaign, that is all.”By now it was quite dark, and after a tender farewell from her husband, Mrs Hunter and the two lads, Jack and Wilfred, slipped round to the stables.A few minutes later the door was opened silently, and they issued out on to the veldt, Mrs Hunter and Wilfred mounted respectively upon Vic and Prince, while Jack walked alongside.An hour and a half later Ted Ellison’s farm was reached. The heavy spring-cart was already standing in the yard, with the hamper stowed inside, and it took very little time to put the team in and hook up the traces.“Now, Wilfred,” said Jack, who had all this time been thinking how best to arrange matters so as to ensure their safe arrival in Natal, “you hop up there and take the reins. When you get into the road, keep the team at a steady trot, and if anyone shouts to you in Dutch, answer them, and keep rattling on. You know their lingo, and that should be a great advantage. I am going to keep some way ahead of you, and shall scout on one side of the road first and then on the other. If you hear a whistle like this”—and Jack gave a low but peculiarly piercing and long-drawn-out whistle, which he had learnt from Tom Salter—“pull up at once, and wait till I tell you the road is clear. If I whistle twice, turn on to the veldt, and whip up till you are well away from the road.”Having given his directions, Jack vaulted on to Prince’s back, and, leading Vic, turned away from the farm, after thanking Ted Ellison and his wife, who heartily wished them a safe journey.For three miles they went at a slow pace, Jack riding close beside the cart. Then they struck across the main wagon-road to Natal, and Jack at once cantered ahead on the veldt. To all appearances he was a young Boer burgher bound for the wars, so that even if he did happen to run across anyone, he was not likely to be recognised in the darkness as an Englishman. Beneath his coat he still wore his bandolier, and his pistol under his waistcoat, while his rifle was firmly strapped to the side of the empty saddle on Vic’s back.Mile after mile passed by without a single Boer appearing. Then the sky, which had been open up to this, became banked up with clouds, and very soon a heavy storm broke, thunder roared, and large, jagged forks of lightning flickered everywhere, lighting up the lonely road running across the veldt. Then the rain began to pour down in a heavy deluge.Wilfred and Mrs Hunter were well provided with waterproofs, and Jack by this time was enveloped in his large mackintosh, only his head and his broad-brimmed hat being exposed, while the ends of the rubber sheet fell over his pony’s neck and quarters, and completely protected his legs.Suddenly, as he was cantering silently along on the veldt, the only sounds being the noise of the thunder and the squish, squish of the ponies’ feet, a brilliant flash of lightning seemed to pierce the ground some yards behind him, and almost instantly a hoarse voice cried out: “Wie gaat daar?”He cantered on, and a moment after heard Wilfred answer the hail, for it was evident that Jack himself had escaped discovery, while the team and cart, trotting along on the open road, had been shown up by the flash. Then there was a second hoarse hail, and an order for the cart to pull up. But Wilfred paid no heed, and instead whipped up his horses, and sent them flying down the road.Jack meanwhile had turned to the left and then ridden back, well away from the road, till he was on a level with the cart. Then he turned towards it and pulled up. As he did so a second flash showed Wilfred standing up and using his whip freely, while two mounted Boers were galloping along on either side of the leaders, vainly endeavouring to pull them up. At last, however, finding themselves unsuccessful, and stung to madness by Wilfred’s whip, one of them lifted his rifle and fired at the near leader, bringing the animal to the ground like a stone. The others stopped at once, almost throwing Mrs Hunter and Wilfred out of the cart.Seeing that there was likely to be trouble, Jack at once reached over and unstrapped his rifle. Then he galloped up to the cart, to find that Mrs Hunter had been roughly dragged on to the road, while the second Boer was hastily lashing Wilfred to the wheel of the cart. What his intentions were was evident, for at that moment he completed the lashing, strode away a few paces, and lifted his rifle to his shoulder.“Stop that!” shouted Jack, pulling up close to him. “We are refugees and deserve fair treatment!”In an instant the Boer, who was a fierce young fellow, swung round and fired point-blank at him, the bullet cutting a streak from the brim of his hat.Jack’s answer was even more rapid. His rifle spoke out, and the Boer dropped prone on the road. Then he swung round just in time to duck and escape a second bullet from the other Boer, and before the latter could load again, Jack’s Mauser pistol had safely reached his hand beneath the mackintosh, and the muzzle of it just showed at the edge in front, directed straight for the man’s head.“Drop your rifle!” he said sternly. “That’s it! Now take off your cartridge-belt! That will do! Stand over there in the road! Now, Wilfred,” he said, turning to his friend, “as soon as Mrs Hunter has set you loose, back the cart away from the leader and cut the harness. Then drive on, and I will catch you up.”“Move on up the road in front of me,” he continued, addressing the Boer, “and if you attempt any tricks I’ll put a bullet through you!”The young Boer evidently understood every word, for with a downcast air he set out along the road in the direction of Johannesburg, with Jack a couple of yards behind him. A mile farther on, when the storm seemed to have reached its height, and the thunder was roaring overhead in long, continuous claps, Jack quietly pulled up, turned on to the veldt, and galloped back, leaving his prisoner still marching on in blissful ignorance.When he arrived at the scene of the recent conflict he dismounted, picked up both of the Boer rifles and bandoliers, and, mounting again, galloped away into the veldt, where he smashed the butts against a boulder.“That fellow is safe to return as soon as he finds I have slipped away,” he thought, “and if I left the rifles the chances are he would follow and stalk me. That will settle him at any rate.”Once more he cantered on, and caught up the cart about two miles along the road. Wilfred at once pulled up, and the two young fellows held a consultation.“It was a piece of bad luck all through,” said Jack, with an exclamation of disgust. “If there had been light enough I should have seen those fellows, and could have warned you so as to avoid them. That flash of lightning just spoilt our chances. If it hadn’t been for that we should have got through. One thing is certain too, that if we had given in to them, and pulled up when they ordered us to do so, we should have had our cart and horses commandeered, and then we should have been in a nice pickle.”“That’s just what I thought,” answered Wilfred. “I knew it meant that we were prisoners, or that the cart and team would go, so I held on and gave them a taste of the whip when they came alongside. My word, though, it was a precious near shave for us! I very nearly went flying on to the horses’ backs. But as it is, neither of us is hurt, thanks to you, Jack, old boy!”“Well, it was a near shave,” agreed Jack. “That Boer’s bullet has cut a long slice out of my hat. I was sorry to shoot the poor fellow, but he brought it on himself, and certainly deserved it, for he meant to kill you. But now, about the other man. I took him up the road, and on the way back broke the rifles. I noticed, too, that both their horses had scampered away on to the veldt. For all that he is now on his way to the nearest station, and before two hours have passed the news will have been telegraphed down the road to Yolksrust, and the Boers will be on the look-out for us. What are we to do? We are sure to run our heads into a trap if we go on in this direction.”“Why not bear to the right and strike into the road for Villiersdorp in the Orange Free State, and from there to Harrismith?” asked Mrs Hunter. “I have driven along it more than once. We can cross the Vaal by the drift (ford), and by taking that route shall put the Boers off the scent.”“That’s a capital plan, Mrs Hunter!” cried Jack. “What do you think, Wilfred?”“Yes, I quite agree with Mother,” Wilfred answered. “The Villiersdorp road will be the one for us, and once we get into the other state we shall be comparatively safe from molestation, for the burghers there are not nearly so bitter against us as are these Transvaallers.”Accordingly the cart was driven off the road to the right, and then across the veldt in a south-westerly direction. Soon they bumped across the railway, and before dawn were on the other road. Driving along it a little way they came to a part which was covered with kopjes, and here, within easy distance of the road, they made a halt, pulling the cart into a deep donga (big water-course), where it was completely hidden. Alongside it they stretched out their mackintoshes on the sodden ground, and having waited till the day had broken, and satisfied themselves that no one was about, they lay down and fell asleep.Three nights later they were in the neighbourhood of Harrismith without having met with any adventure of note upon the way, and on the following night they drove past Albertina, where they discarded the cart, leaving it for the first comer to appropriate, and pushed forward to Van Reenen’s Pass in the Drakenberg mountains. This they knew was already watched by a force of Free Stater Boers, but they were looking more for an invasion from Natal than for refugees endeavouring to slip through from their own country.Jack scouted ahead, and having found the pass free of men, went back and informed his companions. Then they pushed on again, Wilfred leading one of the three horses and riding another, while Mrs Hunter boldly clung to the back of the third. A pitch-black darkness and heavy rain again favoured them, and they slipped through the pass and down to the plain below unchallenged.Two hours later the welcome hail “Who goes there?” in healthy English, greeted them, and having shouted back “Friends”, they halted and waited for the cavalry patrol to give them permission to go on.Soon afterwards they were in Ladysmith, and had found rooms at the hotel, where their arrival after their long and adventurous drive caused quite a sensation. But all three were too tired to do much talking. They snatched a hasty meal, and retired to bed, where they were soon sleeping the sleep of exhaustion.There was no need for them to rise at dusk and set out again, for they were now in the British camp and in British territory, so that when Jack did wake, late in the afternoon, he rolled over again and dozed off for more than two hours longer. Then he turned out, shook Wilfred, who was asleep in a bed in the same room, and, accompanied by him, crossed the camp and indulged in a swim in a large pool of water where many of the soldiers were bathing.“Now, what is the order?” cried Jack, when they had returned to the hotel and had sat down to dinner with Mrs Hunter, in a room in which many of the officers were dining. “I suppose you will go down to Pietermaritzburg or Durban, Mrs Hunter, and if Wilfred will escort you there, I will stay here for a day or two, and then make across to Kimberley. There may be something going on here during the next few days, and if so I should like to be in it.”“Yes, that is what I shall do, Jack,” Mrs Hunter replied. “I have friends at ’Maritzburg, and will join them to-morrow. Probably any wounded there may be—and I fear there will be many of them, poor fellows, before long—will be sent down there to the hospitals, and if so I shall occupy myself in nursing them. I have had some experience, and I dare say everyone willing to act the good Samaritan will be welcomed.”“Then I will take you down there, Mother,” said Wilfred, “and after that will go with Jack if I may. Father told me it was more than probable that he would be ejected from the Transvaal before long, for he has no direct connection with the mines. In that case he will come south, and I shall wait here on the chance of his doing so. We shall hear from him before long, and if he is able to remain in Johannesburg I shall go across to Kimberley and join Jack.”“Very well, then, I shall expect you some day, but I think you will have to wait for the relieving force,” Jack said. “Kimberley is already closely invested, I have no doubt, and you would have no chance of getting in, for you do not know the country. I do, however, and now that I have had such practice at long-distance riding, I shall slip in if I can, and then volunteer to carry despatches either south to De Aar, or north to Mafeking. Later on, if the town is not relieved—and a long siege seems to be expected,—I shall get out again, and see whether I cannot join one or other of the relieving-forces which are certain to be sent. For the present I shall rest here a little while.”Accordingly Jack made himself at home, and on the following day, when Wilfred and Mrs Hunter had departed, he turned out into the camp, and was not long in making friends with a number of young officers, and with some of the soldiers.Ladysmith he found was much like other towns in the district. Its most prominent building was the Town Hall, round which there were clusters of stores and verandahed houses, mostly with tin roofs, which reflected the rays of the sun like a number of large mirrors. In and about the houses, and around the town, was a more or less treeless, open plain, while surrounding it on every side were ridges and mountains which had a most imposing effect.Jack was soon in conversation with a young captain of the gunners, and with him he made a tour of the camps, thoroughly enjoying the sight of all the tents, wagons, and guns, and the hundreds of khaki-clothed soldiers bustling about in their shirt sleeves preparing the mid-day meal All seemed to be in the very cheeriest of spirits, and as Jack and his new friend passed amongst them he heard many a laughing allusion to “Old Crujer” and the Boers.In one corner of the camp a game of football was going on, and the combatants, selected from two of the British regiments, were playing in their shirt sleeves with as much keenness and energy as they would have displayed at home before a crowd of onlookers. Here, however, there were only a few officers watching the game, and a sprinkling of other “Tommies”, smart, healthy-looking men, smoking their pipes and cigarettes, and making the most of the few days of ease which remained before a sterner struggle would demand all their strength and courage.“Fine boys, aren’t they!” remarked the captain. “They are never so happy as when they are kicking a football, or joining in some sort of sport. I dare say if we have to stay here very long we shall hold a gymkhana, a kind of athletic meeting on a large scale, and then Tommy is in his element. Ah, they are jolly good fellows, and it’s a real pleasure to serve with them!”Soon after this Jack said “Good-bye!” and returned to his hotel, where, after luncheon, he again turned in for a sleep, for he had ridden some four hundred miles in little more than a week, and still felt the effect of the fatigue.
It was shortly after noon when Jack set out from Kimberley on his long ride to Johannesburg, and as he could not expect to get there before the afternoon of 11th October, when the ultimatum addressed by President Kruger to the British Government expired, he determined to ride at a moderate pace, for he knew that Wilfred would wait for his arrival. But there was another matter to be considered. An Englishman would now be a marked man in the Transvaal or the Orange Free State, so that if he wished to get through undetected, he must choose the darkest hours for travelling, and lie up during the day.
About five miles out from Kimberley he pulled up, knee-haltered his ponies, and sat down on a boulder, with a map of the two republics spread out before him.
“Let me see!” he thought; “I must pick out a route which will be little frequented just now. The Transvaallers, I know, are rushing west and north to Mafeking and the northern border, and east and south towards Natal. The other fellows in the southern state are making down this way to Kimberley with some of the Transvaallers, and they are certain to combine at Bloemfontein, coming across country by train. The remainder go east to Natal. That leaves the Vaal River deserted, and that ought to be my direction. I will wait here till dusk, and then cut straight to the right into the Orange Free State, and make for the road to Hoopstad. From there I must manage to get to the neighbourhood of Reitzburg, cross the river, and trust to luck to get through the remaining distance. It will be touch and go, but, dressed as I am, I ought to have a chance.”
And, indeed, looking at Jack anyone might have admitted the same. Clad in Mr Hunter’s old tweed suit, which was a size or two too big for him across the shoulders and round the waist, but all too short at wrists and ankles, he looked for all the world like the average Boer. Beneath his trousers he wore a pair of high riding-boots, round his neck was a blue woollen scarf, and on his head a dilapidated and weather-beaten felt hat. Over his left shoulder was a bandolier filled with cartridges, and hitched over the other, and drawn tight against his back so that the butt swung well free of his saddle, was his Lee-Metford rifle. In addition he carried a water-bottle, a mackintosh sheet, with a hole in the middle through which he could put his head, and his Mauser pistol, which was comfortably hidden away in its old position.
Extra shoes, or implements for putting them on to his ponies, were not wanted, for in addition to their many other good points, these shaggy, unkempt-looking Basuto animals, though never shod, were nevertheless equally fast over grass or stony ground.
It was still early in the day, and after riding on a few miles, Jack pulled up again and off-saddled, so as to rest his ponies. Whilst they set about foraging for themselves, he sat under a large eucalyptus-tree, pulled out his pipe and lit it, and proceeded to clean his rifle. A few hours later the shadow in which he sat had lengthened considerably, and he turned round towards the west to see the sun, which had been streaming down upon him all the day, just declining behind a far-distant range of mountains. It was a sight which set Jack moralising, for here, before his eyes, was a gorgeous scene, a fit subject for any artist. The sun was sinking in a splendour of gold and purple lights, and the heavens above it were decked with beautifully red and silver-streaked blue clouds, against which the jagged broken peaks of the mountains stood up boldly, while their rugged and boulder-strewn slopes, and the stretch of rolling veldt below, were already clouded with the shades of coming night. It was a peaceful scene, and why, thought Jack, should not all the beings dwelling within reach of it, or, for the matter of that, dwelling in a country capable of displaying such a prospect as lay before him, live in peace and good brotherhood with one another and enjoy it? South Africa was a vast country, so sparsely populated that one could ride for miles and miles without sighting so much as a roof or habitation, let alone a man. And yet no one thought of the beauties of the country. Other and deeper matters vexed their minds, and because they could not agree they were on the brink of a sanguinary war which would mean an awful loss of life, and—what then?
“Mr Hunter says it’s a case of British supremacy,” he murmured. “Yes, that’s what it is, and that is what it shall be when the war is over.” And straightway Jack forgot all about the declining sun, and the peaceful landscape, and with a curious feeling of elation, which the thought of coming excitement had given him, knocked the ashes out of his pipe, jumped briskly to his feet, and set about saddling his ponies.
Half an hour later it was dark, save for a small moon which just gave sufficient light to show the road. Jack vaulted into his saddle, hitched his rifle over his shoulder, shook the reins, and cantered off across the main road running north, and then on over the rolling veldt, which was just beginning to send forth a few blades of fresh green grass.
Alternately cantering and walking, and changing from one pony to the other, he kept steadily on, the unshod hoofs of his animals making no sound, so that Jack had the advantage of being able to hear anyone approaching. Five hours later he stumbled upon the road from Kimberley to Hoopstad, and at once off-saddled to rest himself and his ponies for an hour.
During that time no one passed, and having eaten a good meal of biscuit and hard-boiled eggs, he started again, riding along just by the side of the road, and turning on to it now and again, when the veldt was so strewn with boulders or cut up by nullahs and deep water-courses as to make it difficult for him to pick his way.
About half an hour later he heard a low, murmuring sound in the distance, and in a few moments could plainly distinguish galloping hoofs. Instantly he turned on to the veldt, and made for a steep kopje a hundred yards off, amongst the boulders of which he quickly hid both himself and the animals.
He was not a moment too soon, for just as he got Vic and Prince prone on the ground, and had seated himself on the quarters of one of them, a couple of horsemen came spurring up alongside the road, while three more at that moment galloped round from the farther side of the kopje on which he was hiding, looking ghostly and white in the faint rays of the moon. They all pulled up within a few yards of Jack, and one of them, whom he recognised at once as Hans Schloss, the fat and vindictive little German, turning in his saddle pointed to the top of the hill, and cried out: “Ha, my friends, there is the flag, and here we shall all gather before riding on to kill those pigs of Englishmen in Kimberley!”
“That’s so,” another voice broke in. “That’s the flag kopje, and your friends the Transvaal burghers will be joining us at midnight. They are coming through from Bloemhof, and should be here in good time. Then, Hans, my boy, we shall ride for Kimberley, but as for killing the Rooineks, that is another matter. We shall not catch them napping. They are ready, but if the good Lord will give us strength we shall drive them out. Then, Hans, you shall kill them, and they shall be filled with fear at the sight of you. Ha, ha! you will frighten them out of their lives, my brave comrade!”
The Boer chuckled audibly, and Hans Schloss, whose self-conceit and density were almost as pronounced as his fatness, failed to see the thinly-veiled sarcasm, and joined in heartily, dropping one hand upon his thigh and assuming such an attitude of importance that his companions roared at the sight.
“Two days more, and we shall be over the border,” another of the Boers cried, when the laughter had died down, “and then there will be good work for all of us. For years we have waited, and now our dreams are to be realised. Even now most of the Uitlanders will have left us, and those who have not gone are hurrying as fast as possible to the frontiers. Well, they had better do so, for after 11th October it will be an evil day for any of them should we catch them. Only a few who have permits signed are to be allowed to stay, and those we will set to work at native labour. It will be more fitted for them.”
“Yes,” chimed in another with a hoarse chuckle, “they shall be set to work at our trenches, and if an English bullet should pick them out, then all the better. But softly, Carl! In two days’ time we shall be rid of the Rooineks, ’tis true, but they are a stubborn nation, and these boys they send against us are filled with pluck. Our leaders have asked us to believe otherwise, but we, who have lived in the towns, know that it is not always so. They will fight us, and to the death. But we shall beat them, and then what a prospect there will be before us! Ourselves one of the big Dutch states of Africa, we shall have ships upon the sea, while here the natives will slave to dig out the gold and diamonds. Independence is a great thing, but for us who have seen something of the world besides a lonely farm, wealth and riches in abundance are more to be desired. And we shall get them by the help of these Kafirs, while we live the same old peaceful life. Then we shall sail over to London—if England still exists—and our old enemies will be glad to welcome the Boer millionaires who have come to visit them and help them with their gold.”
What other wild dreams this bearded young man would have spoken of is difficult to guess, for at this moment a commando of Boer horsemen trotted up on the road. Within five minutes all had halted, and were seated upon the ground or boulders lying thickly everywhere, smoking their pipes and conversing in loud tones while they waited for the arrival of their friends who were following them, and for the burghers from the Transvaal who were to join with them in attacking Kimberley.
All this time Jack had remained silently amongst the huge splintered rocks tumbled haphazard on the kopje, listening with all his ears, and ready at a moment’s notice to slip away and gallop for his life. He was in a precarious position, even more so than when a prisoner in the magazine near Volksrust. For here he was surrounded by a band of men armed to the teeth and ready for war, and only too willing to wreak their vengeance on the hated English. Glancing up at the top of the kopje, he noticed now what he had failed to see before, a broad flag, the vierkleur, flying from a post wedged between the rocks. A few seconds’ consideration showed him that his best course was to lie quietly where he was, without attempting to move, unless some Boer happened to discover him. His ponies lay as if dead upon the ground, and were not likely to betray him except by snorting or answering the neighs of other animals, and to guard against this he rapidly passed the thong employed in knee-haltering them round their muzzles, effectively preventing them from making a sound.
Minutes passed, dragging terribly slowly for Jack, but at last there was a distant shout, and a few moments later a commando, about five hundred strong, rode silently across the veldt and pulled up on the road. Almost at the same instant a large force of men and wagons came up on the road from Hoopstad, and after all bad exchanged greetings, and a brief prayer had been recited by one of them, who was evidently in command, they scrambled into their saddles and set off at a walk.
Jack watched them file past, in threes and fours, and in any kind of order. Then came the wagons, drawn by long spans of patient, toiling oxen, showing clearly in the white moonlight, so that several large pieces of cannon were visible. More wagons followed, heaped high with shell and cases of ammunition, while others contained sacks of flour and mealies, and a few Boer women who had cast in their lot with their men folk, and had come to act as cooks. There were also a few Kafir servants and drivers; while in rear of all rode a small body of bearded men, joking and laughing uproariously, and evidently in the highest spirits at the prospects before them. Jack gave them half an hour to get well away, and to make sure that there were no stragglers following. Then he cast off the thongs from the muzzles of Vic and Prince, and was soon cantering along by the side of the road as before in the direction of Hoopstad. By four in the morning, when the clouds in the east were beginning to brighten, he had ridden some sixty miles, and was within fifteen of Hoopstad. He now searched about for a secure hiding-place, and presently came across an isolated farm standing a few miles back from the road. Leaving his ponies hidden upon the side of another convenient kopje, he stole forward, and soon reached the building. There was no one about, not even a dog, and he at once boldly walked up to the door. It was locked, but a window he tried was unlatched, and Jack at once squeezed through it and drew up the blind. The farmhouse consisted of two large rooms, a kitchen and a bedroom, and both were empty.
“Ah, all gone to the war!” thought Jack. “This place will suit me perfectly. It’s well away from the road, so that no one is likely to come near, and if anyone does, he will find the door locked, and will probably go away at once.”
Unlocking the door, he went out and fetched his ponies, leading them into the farmhouse, and stabling them in the kitchen. Then he searched about in the few outhouses, and having discovered some straw and oats, came back and made his animals quite comfortable. Another journey procured water for them, and then, locking the door once more and pulling down the blind, Jack first indulged in a much-needed meal, and then lay down in a bed in the sleeping-room.
When he awoke the sun was already more than half-way overhead, and as soon as it was dark he set out again, and by early morning had reached the neighbourhood of Reitzburg. Here he was forced to camp in the open, in a thick belt of scrub composed of acacias and mimosa shrubs, for there was no comfortable farmhouse available. But it was much the same to Jack. He enjoyed a good meal, watered Vic and Prince, knee-haltered them, and once more lay down to sleep.
Early on the following morning, as day was beginning to break, he rode round to the back of Johannesburg and pulled up at Mr Hunter’s house. No one was to be seen, so he stabled his ponies, and then knocked loudly at the door.
“Who’sthat?” Mr Hunter shouted from above; and then, when Jack had made himself known and had been admitted, cried in astonishment: “Good heavens, my boy! I did not expect you for two days at least, and perhaps not then, for I asked you to do an almost impossible thing. However have you managed to get here? My letter can only have reached you on the 9th at the earliest, and here you are at dawn on the 12th. But come in, my lad; you must be tired out, and will want a good sleep.”
“Yes, I am a little done up,” Jack admitted. “I have been riding ever since dusk yesterday, and did the same for two whole nights before that. I have ridden every inch of the way from Kimberley, through Hoopstad and Reitzburg, and my legs and back are so stiff that I can scarcely move them. I think I’ll have a hot bath if I can get one, and then get Tom Thumb to rub me down with oil. A good tuck-in and a small nip of brandy will set me up again, and after a few hours’ sleep I shall be fit to start for the border.”
Accordingly Jack jumped into a hot bath, and was well rubbed with oil. After that he partook of a good meal and at once turned in between beautifully-clean sheets, to which, down Kimberley way, he had been a total stranger, except when he and Tom returned from one of their expeditions.
Almost before his head was on the pillow he was fast asleep, and when he woke again, feeling wonderfully refreshed, it was already getting dusk.
“Ah, there you are!” cried Mr Hunter with satisfaction, when he made his appearance in the dining-room. “Now I will tell you what has happened since the ultimatum, and indeed since war became a certainty. On October let the governments at Pretoria and Bloemfontein called up their burghers, and since then our streets have been filled with men, all on their way to the front, armed and supplied with ammunition, and trusting to an iniquitous system of commandeering to obtain other necessaries. No one’s property has been safe, and we in Johannesburg have suffered, I believe, more heavily than any others. My store has been practically denuded of its contents, so that I now congratulate myself on having cancelled all expected consignments of goods from Durban for the past three months, and having cleared all goods remaining here as rapidly as possible. Some of my friends have not been so fortunate, and have lost everything valuable to men about to embark in a campaign. Horses have been seized everywhere, and there again I have been wise in time. Two weeks ago I sent over the four-wheeled cart and four good horses to Ted Ellison’s farm, ten miles out from here. They will be perfectly safe there, for Ted married a Boer girl five years ago, and she is a good little woman, who would gladly see all this trouble over and a British government here, with the usual peace and good order.
“At the present moment my stables are cleared of everything save your two ponies, and they will be safe till you start, for the Boers have twice paid me a visit, and have commandeered every saddle and horse I had left.”
“I’m glad to hear about the team and cart,” said Jack thoughtfully. “But why not take the train down to the border. Surely Kruger and his friends will grant all refugees a safe-conduct?”
“Safe-conduct! A precious fine conduct they are giving us! Thousands of poor creatures are clamouring to be taken down, and have been doing so for these past three days. But what can you expect, Jack? It is a single line to Natal, and every inch of it is occupied in passing down trains laden with burghers. The refugees are quite a secondary matter, and by all accounts are experiencing cruel times. All available carriages are packed with Boers, and our poor country-people have to do as best they can in open cattle trucks or coal wagons.
“Then every station is crammed with armed and excited Transvaallers, who have committed all sorts of detestable acts. I know this is the case, for Joe Pearson, who works on the railway in ordinary times, watched train after train of refugees passing through one of the stations. The older Boers are quiet and well conducted, but it is the younger men who have committed these excesses. Threatening to shoot helpless passengers is the least of them. They have actually kept the poor people in the sidings for as many as twenty-four hours, absolutely preventing their leaving the trucks to obtain food or water. It is really terrible. The unhappy women and children, who form a good proportion of the refugees, have been exposed to the weather for three days between here and Laing’s Nek, and you can imagine what that has meant, for you yourself experienced the heavy rain last night. I hear one or two of the children died on the way down.
“It is dreadfully sad, terribly sad. But there is one consolation, England will demand a just retribution when the time comes.
“That is why I have decided to send Mrs Hunter down by road, rather than let her run the risks of the journey by train. The horses are good ones, and ought to get you to Volksrust quicker than the rail; that is, of course, if they are not commandeered. If that were to happen, I suppose you would have to get to the nearest station. But I can leave that to you, Jack. You have an old head upon those broad shoulders of yours.”
“I’ll do my best, never fear, Mr Hunter,” Jack exclaimed. “And now about starting. I suppose we had better do so at once. Mrs Hunter can ride Vic, and Wilfred and I will take it in turns to get on Prince’s back.”
“Yes, I think you had better go at once, my lad. Mrs Hunter is ready, and Tom Thumb carried over a hamper of provisions to Ted Ellison’s last night. All I shall ask you to carry is this bag of notes and gold-dust. Wilfred has another, and Mrs Hunter a third. I shall stay here to look after the house and property, and to keep an eye on the mines. I have already asked for a permit, and ought to get it, as I am one of the oldest residents here.”
“By the way, Mr Hunter,” said Jack suddenly, “this is the 12th. Has the war begun yet? I suppose it has, as these Boer fellows seem to have been in readiness long ago.
“Yes, it has already opened with a sharp affair with an armoured train below Mafeking, and I am sorry to say our boys, under Captain Nesbit, V.C., were taken prisoners. The news has only just reached us, but it appears they made a gallant stand before they were taken, and accounted for a few of the Boers. They were running up from Kimberley to Mafeking, and suddenly came upon a part where the rails had been broken up. It was a regular trap, for the enemy had their guns already laid for it, and used them freely. Well, it is just the opening incident of a long campaign, that is all.”
By now it was quite dark, and after a tender farewell from her husband, Mrs Hunter and the two lads, Jack and Wilfred, slipped round to the stables.
A few minutes later the door was opened silently, and they issued out on to the veldt, Mrs Hunter and Wilfred mounted respectively upon Vic and Prince, while Jack walked alongside.
An hour and a half later Ted Ellison’s farm was reached. The heavy spring-cart was already standing in the yard, with the hamper stowed inside, and it took very little time to put the team in and hook up the traces.
“Now, Wilfred,” said Jack, who had all this time been thinking how best to arrange matters so as to ensure their safe arrival in Natal, “you hop up there and take the reins. When you get into the road, keep the team at a steady trot, and if anyone shouts to you in Dutch, answer them, and keep rattling on. You know their lingo, and that should be a great advantage. I am going to keep some way ahead of you, and shall scout on one side of the road first and then on the other. If you hear a whistle like this”—and Jack gave a low but peculiarly piercing and long-drawn-out whistle, which he had learnt from Tom Salter—“pull up at once, and wait till I tell you the road is clear. If I whistle twice, turn on to the veldt, and whip up till you are well away from the road.”
Having given his directions, Jack vaulted on to Prince’s back, and, leading Vic, turned away from the farm, after thanking Ted Ellison and his wife, who heartily wished them a safe journey.
For three miles they went at a slow pace, Jack riding close beside the cart. Then they struck across the main wagon-road to Natal, and Jack at once cantered ahead on the veldt. To all appearances he was a young Boer burgher bound for the wars, so that even if he did happen to run across anyone, he was not likely to be recognised in the darkness as an Englishman. Beneath his coat he still wore his bandolier, and his pistol under his waistcoat, while his rifle was firmly strapped to the side of the empty saddle on Vic’s back.
Mile after mile passed by without a single Boer appearing. Then the sky, which had been open up to this, became banked up with clouds, and very soon a heavy storm broke, thunder roared, and large, jagged forks of lightning flickered everywhere, lighting up the lonely road running across the veldt. Then the rain began to pour down in a heavy deluge.
Wilfred and Mrs Hunter were well provided with waterproofs, and Jack by this time was enveloped in his large mackintosh, only his head and his broad-brimmed hat being exposed, while the ends of the rubber sheet fell over his pony’s neck and quarters, and completely protected his legs.
Suddenly, as he was cantering silently along on the veldt, the only sounds being the noise of the thunder and the squish, squish of the ponies’ feet, a brilliant flash of lightning seemed to pierce the ground some yards behind him, and almost instantly a hoarse voice cried out: “Wie gaat daar?”
He cantered on, and a moment after heard Wilfred answer the hail, for it was evident that Jack himself had escaped discovery, while the team and cart, trotting along on the open road, had been shown up by the flash. Then there was a second hoarse hail, and an order for the cart to pull up. But Wilfred paid no heed, and instead whipped up his horses, and sent them flying down the road.
Jack meanwhile had turned to the left and then ridden back, well away from the road, till he was on a level with the cart. Then he turned towards it and pulled up. As he did so a second flash showed Wilfred standing up and using his whip freely, while two mounted Boers were galloping along on either side of the leaders, vainly endeavouring to pull them up. At last, however, finding themselves unsuccessful, and stung to madness by Wilfred’s whip, one of them lifted his rifle and fired at the near leader, bringing the animal to the ground like a stone. The others stopped at once, almost throwing Mrs Hunter and Wilfred out of the cart.
Seeing that there was likely to be trouble, Jack at once reached over and unstrapped his rifle. Then he galloped up to the cart, to find that Mrs Hunter had been roughly dragged on to the road, while the second Boer was hastily lashing Wilfred to the wheel of the cart. What his intentions were was evident, for at that moment he completed the lashing, strode away a few paces, and lifted his rifle to his shoulder.
“Stop that!” shouted Jack, pulling up close to him. “We are refugees and deserve fair treatment!”
In an instant the Boer, who was a fierce young fellow, swung round and fired point-blank at him, the bullet cutting a streak from the brim of his hat.
Jack’s answer was even more rapid. His rifle spoke out, and the Boer dropped prone on the road. Then he swung round just in time to duck and escape a second bullet from the other Boer, and before the latter could load again, Jack’s Mauser pistol had safely reached his hand beneath the mackintosh, and the muzzle of it just showed at the edge in front, directed straight for the man’s head.
“Drop your rifle!” he said sternly. “That’s it! Now take off your cartridge-belt! That will do! Stand over there in the road! Now, Wilfred,” he said, turning to his friend, “as soon as Mrs Hunter has set you loose, back the cart away from the leader and cut the harness. Then drive on, and I will catch you up.”
“Move on up the road in front of me,” he continued, addressing the Boer, “and if you attempt any tricks I’ll put a bullet through you!”
The young Boer evidently understood every word, for with a downcast air he set out along the road in the direction of Johannesburg, with Jack a couple of yards behind him. A mile farther on, when the storm seemed to have reached its height, and the thunder was roaring overhead in long, continuous claps, Jack quietly pulled up, turned on to the veldt, and galloped back, leaving his prisoner still marching on in blissful ignorance.
When he arrived at the scene of the recent conflict he dismounted, picked up both of the Boer rifles and bandoliers, and, mounting again, galloped away into the veldt, where he smashed the butts against a boulder.
“That fellow is safe to return as soon as he finds I have slipped away,” he thought, “and if I left the rifles the chances are he would follow and stalk me. That will settle him at any rate.”
Once more he cantered on, and caught up the cart about two miles along the road. Wilfred at once pulled up, and the two young fellows held a consultation.
“It was a piece of bad luck all through,” said Jack, with an exclamation of disgust. “If there had been light enough I should have seen those fellows, and could have warned you so as to avoid them. That flash of lightning just spoilt our chances. If it hadn’t been for that we should have got through. One thing is certain too, that if we had given in to them, and pulled up when they ordered us to do so, we should have had our cart and horses commandeered, and then we should have been in a nice pickle.”
“That’s just what I thought,” answered Wilfred. “I knew it meant that we were prisoners, or that the cart and team would go, so I held on and gave them a taste of the whip when they came alongside. My word, though, it was a precious near shave for us! I very nearly went flying on to the horses’ backs. But as it is, neither of us is hurt, thanks to you, Jack, old boy!”
“Well, it was a near shave,” agreed Jack. “That Boer’s bullet has cut a long slice out of my hat. I was sorry to shoot the poor fellow, but he brought it on himself, and certainly deserved it, for he meant to kill you. But now, about the other man. I took him up the road, and on the way back broke the rifles. I noticed, too, that both their horses had scampered away on to the veldt. For all that he is now on his way to the nearest station, and before two hours have passed the news will have been telegraphed down the road to Yolksrust, and the Boers will be on the look-out for us. What are we to do? We are sure to run our heads into a trap if we go on in this direction.”
“Why not bear to the right and strike into the road for Villiersdorp in the Orange Free State, and from there to Harrismith?” asked Mrs Hunter. “I have driven along it more than once. We can cross the Vaal by the drift (ford), and by taking that route shall put the Boers off the scent.”
“That’s a capital plan, Mrs Hunter!” cried Jack. “What do you think, Wilfred?”
“Yes, I quite agree with Mother,” Wilfred answered. “The Villiersdorp road will be the one for us, and once we get into the other state we shall be comparatively safe from molestation, for the burghers there are not nearly so bitter against us as are these Transvaallers.”
Accordingly the cart was driven off the road to the right, and then across the veldt in a south-westerly direction. Soon they bumped across the railway, and before dawn were on the other road. Driving along it a little way they came to a part which was covered with kopjes, and here, within easy distance of the road, they made a halt, pulling the cart into a deep donga (big water-course), where it was completely hidden. Alongside it they stretched out their mackintoshes on the sodden ground, and having waited till the day had broken, and satisfied themselves that no one was about, they lay down and fell asleep.
Three nights later they were in the neighbourhood of Harrismith without having met with any adventure of note upon the way, and on the following night they drove past Albertina, where they discarded the cart, leaving it for the first comer to appropriate, and pushed forward to Van Reenen’s Pass in the Drakenberg mountains. This they knew was already watched by a force of Free Stater Boers, but they were looking more for an invasion from Natal than for refugees endeavouring to slip through from their own country.
Jack scouted ahead, and having found the pass free of men, went back and informed his companions. Then they pushed on again, Wilfred leading one of the three horses and riding another, while Mrs Hunter boldly clung to the back of the third. A pitch-black darkness and heavy rain again favoured them, and they slipped through the pass and down to the plain below unchallenged.
Two hours later the welcome hail “Who goes there?” in healthy English, greeted them, and having shouted back “Friends”, they halted and waited for the cavalry patrol to give them permission to go on.
Soon afterwards they were in Ladysmith, and had found rooms at the hotel, where their arrival after their long and adventurous drive caused quite a sensation. But all three were too tired to do much talking. They snatched a hasty meal, and retired to bed, where they were soon sleeping the sleep of exhaustion.
There was no need for them to rise at dusk and set out again, for they were now in the British camp and in British territory, so that when Jack did wake, late in the afternoon, he rolled over again and dozed off for more than two hours longer. Then he turned out, shook Wilfred, who was asleep in a bed in the same room, and, accompanied by him, crossed the camp and indulged in a swim in a large pool of water where many of the soldiers were bathing.
“Now, what is the order?” cried Jack, when they had returned to the hotel and had sat down to dinner with Mrs Hunter, in a room in which many of the officers were dining. “I suppose you will go down to Pietermaritzburg or Durban, Mrs Hunter, and if Wilfred will escort you there, I will stay here for a day or two, and then make across to Kimberley. There may be something going on here during the next few days, and if so I should like to be in it.”
“Yes, that is what I shall do, Jack,” Mrs Hunter replied. “I have friends at ’Maritzburg, and will join them to-morrow. Probably any wounded there may be—and I fear there will be many of them, poor fellows, before long—will be sent down there to the hospitals, and if so I shall occupy myself in nursing them. I have had some experience, and I dare say everyone willing to act the good Samaritan will be welcomed.”
“Then I will take you down there, Mother,” said Wilfred, “and after that will go with Jack if I may. Father told me it was more than probable that he would be ejected from the Transvaal before long, for he has no direct connection with the mines. In that case he will come south, and I shall wait here on the chance of his doing so. We shall hear from him before long, and if he is able to remain in Johannesburg I shall go across to Kimberley and join Jack.”
“Very well, then, I shall expect you some day, but I think you will have to wait for the relieving force,” Jack said. “Kimberley is already closely invested, I have no doubt, and you would have no chance of getting in, for you do not know the country. I do, however, and now that I have had such practice at long-distance riding, I shall slip in if I can, and then volunteer to carry despatches either south to De Aar, or north to Mafeking. Later on, if the town is not relieved—and a long siege seems to be expected,—I shall get out again, and see whether I cannot join one or other of the relieving-forces which are certain to be sent. For the present I shall rest here a little while.”
Accordingly Jack made himself at home, and on the following day, when Wilfred and Mrs Hunter had departed, he turned out into the camp, and was not long in making friends with a number of young officers, and with some of the soldiers.
Ladysmith he found was much like other towns in the district. Its most prominent building was the Town Hall, round which there were clusters of stores and verandahed houses, mostly with tin roofs, which reflected the rays of the sun like a number of large mirrors. In and about the houses, and around the town, was a more or less treeless, open plain, while surrounding it on every side were ridges and mountains which had a most imposing effect.
Jack was soon in conversation with a young captain of the gunners, and with him he made a tour of the camps, thoroughly enjoying the sight of all the tents, wagons, and guns, and the hundreds of khaki-clothed soldiers bustling about in their shirt sleeves preparing the mid-day meal All seemed to be in the very cheeriest of spirits, and as Jack and his new friend passed amongst them he heard many a laughing allusion to “Old Crujer” and the Boers.
In one corner of the camp a game of football was going on, and the combatants, selected from two of the British regiments, were playing in their shirt sleeves with as much keenness and energy as they would have displayed at home before a crowd of onlookers. Here, however, there were only a few officers watching the game, and a sprinkling of other “Tommies”, smart, healthy-looking men, smoking their pipes and cigarettes, and making the most of the few days of ease which remained before a sterner struggle would demand all their strength and courage.
“Fine boys, aren’t they!” remarked the captain. “They are never so happy as when they are kicking a football, or joining in some sort of sport. I dare say if we have to stay here very long we shall hold a gymkhana, a kind of athletic meeting on a large scale, and then Tommy is in his element. Ah, they are jolly good fellows, and it’s a real pleasure to serve with them!”
Soon after this Jack said “Good-bye!” and returned to his hotel, where, after luncheon, he again turned in for a sleep, for he had ridden some four hundred miles in little more than a week, and still felt the effect of the fatigue.
Chapter Eight.The Battle of Glencoe.When Jack came down to breakfast on the morning following the departure of Mrs Hunter and Wilfred for Pietermaritzburg, there was only one vacant place in the cramped little dining-room of the hotel, and on taking his seat he found himself face to face with a young fellow some three years older than himself, who was dressed in civilian riding-costume which closely resembled the khaki uniform worn by officers.He was a jovial-looking fellow, with clean-shaven face, laughing eyes, and a head which was covered with closely-cropped red hair.“Good morning!” he said, as Jack sat down. “It’s not much of a breakfast this morning; but then what can you expect with so many of these lusty officers about. They’ve eaten us out of house and home. Well, they’ll fight all the better. By the way, what are you? Volunteer, Natal carbineer, or civilian? Excuse my asking, but I am a stranger here, and am anxious to get information.”“Then you have come to the wrong man this time,” Jack answered with a smile. “I only arrived a day ago, and know simply nothing.”“In that case I dare say I shall be able to teach you then. My name’s O’Farnel, Lord Edward O’Farnel, commonly known as ‘Farney’. If we’re both strangers we had better look round together.”“Delighted, I’m sure!” Jack exclaimed. “I was wondering what I should do with myself. I only came through from Johnny’s Burg a few days ago, and before that I had ridden over from Kimberley; so you can understand I am a perfect stranger here.”“That was a long ride,” said Lord O’Farnel. “Tell me about it, and what kind of an experience you had coming down. By all accounts some of the refugees had a terrible time of it.”Jack at once complied, and before the meal was over found himself on most friendly terms with the young lord who sat opposite him.“Now tell me something about yourself,” he said, when he had told O’Farnel how he had come down from Johannesburg, and how he had spent his time since arriving in Africa.“Something about myself, is it?” replied his companion. “Well, there’s very little. I’m twenty-two or thereabouts, Irish, and have no profession. Away back in good old Ireland I’ve a castle and a mansion, and any amount of acres which bring me in about twopence halfpenny a year. Ah, it’s a fine place, and very good to look at, but ruination to keep up! I said ‘Good-bye’ to it three years ago, and since then I have been travelling round. Last year I went home for a week, thinking they’d be pleased to see me; but, bless your life, the old caretaker in the mansion was the only one who cared a jot. The others thought I had come for the rent, so the very next morning they had dug a grave in front of the hall-door and put an old black coffin near it with a notice on top, written in the best of Irish, advising me to clear out at once. Pleasant fellows! They’ve quaint ways about them, but they are good-hearted all the same.“I took their advice and left at once, and then came out here to see what I could do at the mines. But Kruger and his friends had upset everything, so I went south to Durban for a time, and when there was a talk of fun up here I took the train and came on the chance of seeing it. But how to do it is the next thing. What do you think, Somerton?”“I am going back to Kimberley very soon,” said Jack; “but if there is to be a struggle in this direction I shall stay for a time and join in if I can. I was told yesterday that volunteers are badly wanted, and that anyone could be taken for the Imperial Light Horse. But that would be more or less of a tie. I really don’t see why we should not take part in all the fun as simple volunteers. Have you a rifle and a mount?”“Yes, I have a good pony and the usual rifle,” O’Farnel answered; “and what is more, my kit makes me practically the same as any of the volunteers. I have been here for the last week, and so can put you in the way of things. I know one of the officers in a regiment stationed here. Let us look him up. I dare say he could get whatever you want, and I should advise you to buy a suit of khaki and a pair of putties. Then we will see whether we cannot go along with the troops.”Accordingly Jack and O’Farnel strolled across to one of the camps and were fortunate enough to find the officer of whom the latter had spoken.“Hallo, Farney!” he exclaimed, as they stopped opposite his tent. “So you’ve come up here! I thought you were going to stay at Durban.”“No, I’ve got a restless fit on, Roper, and have come to see what is doing here. This is Jack Somerton, a friend of mine. By the way, he wants to get some kit. Can you help him?”“I may be able to,” answered Roper. “Come over to the quartermaster and we will see what he has to say.” When they reached the quartermaster’s stores, which were temporarily in a large tin house, they found that he had a complete kit to sell, one of the men having been killed on the way up to Ladysmith in a railway accident.The clothes were just the right size for Jack, and he quickly became possessed of them.“There,” said Roper, as he handed them to Jack, “it’s not exactly correct, you know. These should be sold by auction in the regiment. But no one wants them, and you have paid more than they would have fetched at a sale.”“Now we want to know whether you can help us to see some of the fun,” said O’Farnel. “We will volunteer for anything so long as it does not tie us down.”“Then I should advise your going farther north,” said Roper. “Here you are not likely to come in for much, for the Free Staters compel us to keep on the watch. But General Symons is at Dundee, up towards the north of Natal, about thirty miles away, and if you go up there you are certain to see some fighting. He has 4000 men, and he will strike the first big blow. Look here, Farney, I’ll give you a note to a fellow I know in the Hussars up there, and if there’s to be a battle, he will see that you both have a share in it.”“Thanks, that will suit us capitally!” said Lord O’Farnel. “We’ll start as soon as you can give me the note, for it would be an awful disappointment to arrive too late.”A few moments afterwards they returned to their hotel, where Jack discarded his shabby tweed suit and donned the khaki.“There you are now,” said Farney, looking quizzically at him. “You look just like the ordinary ‘Tommy’, and will do. My word, though, I thought what a quiet-looking fellow you were before; but now, what with the rifle and bayonet and that broad-brimmed hat, you look a regular mountebank! But come along. There is nothing to keep us, and we may as well start north at once.”Having paid their bills, Jack and his new friend, Farney, saddled up their ponies and took the road for Glencoe.It was a long ride, but the road passed through some wonderful bits of rugged scenery, and about half-way up they fell in with an ammunition column, with a small escort, and an officer who proved a perfect mine of information.“Oh, yes!” he said, when Farney asked him, “there’s going to be a big battle up this way within a very short time. We are stationed at Dundee to check the invasion. We cannot stop it, for I suppose there must be thirty to forty thousand Boers marching south, besides others threatening our communications with Ladysmith. But we are bound to make a stand somewhere, just to show the beggars that they cannot have things all their own way.“I hear all the enemy came over the border on the evening of 11th October, and on Saturday they were at Newcastle. Since then they have been pushing slowly south, while hundreds of wagons have followed them. They mean business, do those Boers, and we shall have a pretty hard job to turn them out of Natal when reinforcements reach us.”“Then you think we shall have to retire?” said Jack.“I’m sure,” replied the officer. “Joubert is as cunning as a fox, and a clever soldier. He is marching in three columns. One came through Botha’s Pass, close below Majuba. The centre one has passed through Newcastle, and the third, on our right, is marching down the eastern border, and will no doubt make a dash to cut our communications. They are too many for us. We shall have a go at them, hammer them, and then retire to Ladysmith, where we shall entrench ourselves and wait for reinforcements, which will take some weeks to reach us.“I suppose you fellows are going up as volunteers? There are lots more like you. If you have never been under fire, you will have that experience before long. It’s not so bad after all. Keep cool, and take, advantage of every scrap of cover. Keep an eye overhead, too, if you can. It is possible to dodge a shell, and the farther you can get away from it the better.”It was late on the evening of 19th October when Jack and Farney reached the British tents at Craigside Camp, between Dundee and Glencoe, and close against Talana Hill, which was to be the scene of the next day’s battle.A few enquiries soon brought them to the Hussar quarters, and having introduced themselves to Roper’s friend, by means of his note, they were both able to get a shake-down in a tent near by for the night, as well as a good meal.They had had a long and tiring ride, and were soon asleep, wrapped in the blankets which each one had carried strapped behind his saddle.Just as daylight dawned on the following morning they were startled from their sleep by a succession of loud reports, followed in a few seconds by the screaming of several shells overhead and by an explosion close at hand.“By Jove, they’ve started already, so we’re in the nick of time!” exclaimed Jack, jumping up and rushing outside the tent, where he was joined by Farney. “What has happened?” he asked an officer, who was passing at that moment.“Lucas Meyer has occupied Talana Hill,” was the reply, “and he is shelling us with six guns. Wait a few minutes! Our batteries are galloping out, and you will see how soon they will polish those beggars off!”Hastily slinging their belts across their shoulders and picking up their rifles and blankets, Jack and his friend saddled their ponies, which had spent the night close by, and cantered out of the camp after the British guns, which had already taken up a position.“That was a close one,” exclaimed Jack calmly a moment later, as a shell whizzed just above his head and plunged into the ground behind, where it failed to explode. “A foot lower and it would have knocked my head to pieces!”“Ah, there’s many a slip!” laughed Farney light-heartedly. “Look at our fellows! They are giving our friends over there a good peppering.”Jack turned to watch the British guns, of which there were twelve, and then directed the field-glasses which he had purchased in Ladysmith at the heights of the Talana Hill. There he could see six cannon belching forth sharp spirts of flame, but no smoke, for the latest ammunition was being used.As he looked, the British batteries spoke out, and the reports were followed by a succession of blinding flashes close by the Boer guns.For twenty minutes the storm of shell continued to fall, and by that time the enemy had ceased to fire, and their guns stood unattended.By now the troops had poured out of the camp, and while some remained behind in case of an attack, the King’s Royal Rifles, a gallant corps commonly known as the 60th, the Dublin Fusiliers, and the Royal Irish Fusiliers, both regiments composed of stalwart, dashing Irishmen, fell in on the bugle-call, and formed up for the attack. Smart, bold fellows they all looked too, clad in their khaki uniforms, with belts, helmets, and buttons all of the same mud-colour. And true heroes they were soon to prove themselves, for the bugles now rang out the “Advance”, and in open order they set off for Talana Hill across a wide, sweeping plain, almost completely devoid of cover, and shortly to be swept by a murderous hail of Mauser bullets directed by unseen hands.At this moment another Boer commando was reported advancing from the left, and the Leicester Regiment and a battery of guns was sent against them.“By George, it looks as though we meant to clear that hill!” exclaimed Farney excitedly. “What shall we do, Somerton? Leave our horses and follow them, or stay where we are for a time?”“Let us ask Preston,” said Jack, nodding to the Hussar officer who had befriended them on the previous night, and who galloped up at that moment.“Look here, Preston,” Farney called out. “Somerton and I want to have a hand in this battle. What shall we do?”“If you will take my advice,” Preston answered, “you will join us. The chances are you would be in the way over there with the regulars, and your ponies would certainly be picked off. We are going to form over by the shoulder of the hill, and when our boys have set the beggars running, we will gallop round and break them up. There will be some fun in it, and you may both of you just as well have a share.”Accordingly Jack and Lord O’Farnel joined the Hussars and a body of mounted infantry supplied by the Rifle Regiments and by the Dublin Fusiliers.Jack was mounted on Prince, and had left Vic behind, as it was unlikely that he would require two mounts.They rode forward close in rear of the advancing regiments until the bullets began to whistle past them, while now and again some poor fellow tumbled forward on the ground. But undeterred, with never a backward glance or a thought of flinching, the three British regiments pushed forward, the nonchalance and absolute coolness of the men being superb. They acted just as if on a big field-day at home in the Long Valley, and as if sure that, within a certain time, and after firing so many rounds and marching a given number of miles, they would return to camp, and to a comfortable dinner which would await them.Many of the men smoked pipes and cigarettes, and joked and called to one another as they advanced, but for all that, beneath all their dogged pluck and coolness, there was a certain restlessness, a nervous grasp of the rifle, and a keen look in their eyes which told that they had braced themselves for a determined effort, and that nothing, not even thoughts of sweethearts and wives and children at home, or even death, should deter them from mounting the slopes of the hill in front of them and putting the Boers to flight.“By Jove, it’s fine to see them!” Farney cried, with a ring of pride in his voice. “Look at them now! They have opened out, and the foremost lines have reached the edge of the hill. Ah, now they are giving it to them! Volley-firing, regular and well delivered. Look at them now, Jack; they are pushing up the hill, and more of the poor fellows are dropping! Ah! who would now dare to say that my countrymen are disloyal? I know some of them have acted as blackguards at home, but they are the scum of Irishmen, while these soldiers are real, brave boys!”By this time the three advancing regiments had commenced to climb the hill, and the batteries had galloped up to closer range, and were now pouring in a hail of shrapnel at the puffs of flame which told where the Boer marksmen were. On our side, too, the men were cunningly taking advantage of every stone and boulder, or bravely facing the hail where no cover existed, and from their rifles a steady discharge of bullets was kept up at the heights above.And behind them, and right up in the firing line, with no time to think of cover, the army surgeons and the bearers of the Army Medical Corps were at work picking up the wounded, applying dressings, and carrying the poor fellows away with a coolness and bravery which matched that of the other soldiers.But our lads were gradually creeping up the hill, and were now within 300 yards of the summit, where they lay down, and poured in murderous volleys at the Boers, while a few feet overhead a succession of screaming shells flew by, to plunge amongst the boulders a few moments later, and burst with an appalling roar, scattering death-dealing bullets on every side.Gallantly did our brave fellows fight, and gallantly too did the Boer marksmen prove their devotion to their country. Struck down on every side, they still stuck to their posts, and in those last few minutes added numbers to our list of dead and wounded.But British pluck, whether bred in England, Ireland, Scotland, or Wales, or indeed in any of our colonies, was not to be gainsaid. With a roaring cheer and the shrill notes of the “charge” sounding along the hill, the British fixed bayonets, sprang to their feet, and made one rush for the summit of Talana, never pausing to fire, but trusting to reach the enemy and apply cold steel, the most terrifying death of all. But the Boers did not wait for them. Those that had held so stubbornly to the crest of the hill had performed their allotted task, for they had enabled their comrades to withdraw the guns and retreat in order; and now, springing from behind the boulders, they darted down the other side, a mark for the bullets of our soldiers.Meanwhile the two hundred cavalry with whom Jack and Farney had thrown in their lot had been quietly walking their horses round the shoulder of the hill. As the infantry lay down for the last time before the charge, Colonel Moller, who was in command, gave the order to trot, and the little column swept round the shoulder, a Maxim gun on a galloping carriage trundling along in the centre. Arrived in sight of the reverse side of the hill, they halted for a few moments and waited for the flight of the Boers. Already they were retiring in ones and twos, but a minute later they came in a swarm.“Draw swords! Trot! Charge! At them, my lads!” came in quick, sharp tones, and in a second the horsemen had opened out, and were going pell-mell across the open space.Jack was close to Farney, and as, like the mounted infantry, neither possessed a sword, they had fixed their bayonets on their rifles, and holding the latter close to the lock, with the bayonet well advanced, prepared to use them as lances.A moment later they were amongst the flying enemy, bullets singing about their heads and knocking men out of their saddles. But all the time the sabres were flashing fiercely in the sunlight, and Jack and his friend were using their bayonets to advantage. It was a wild ten minutes, and what happened during that time Jack never knew. Almost before he had expected it, Boers rose up in front of him and fired point-blank in his face. One bullet actually grazed his forehead and sent his hat flying, while another smashed his water-bottle to pieces. But he knew nothing about it at the time. Gripping Prince firmly with his knees, and keeping him well in hand, he leant forward in the saddle prepared to act at any moment. Suddenly a huge, bearded Boer stood in his way, half-hidden by a boulder, and, waiting till Jack was almost on him, pulled his trigger. What happened to the bullet Jack never knew; probably it went beneath his arm, for he found a slit in the sleeve after the fight was over, but the concussion and flash of light almost blinded him. Next moment with a hitch at the reins and a touch with his leg, given almost unconsciously, he was round the boulder and had plunged his bayonet into the Boer’s body.Then he dashed on and set his pony full-tilt at three of the enemy who were standing close together and emptying their magazines into the troopers. One he despatched with his bayonet, a second was knocked senseless by Prince’s shoulder, and the third was cut down a second later by a man galloping along close behind Jack.But many of the Boers had managed to reach their ponies, and were galloping away to join their friends; and after them the gallant little body of horsemen spurred, determined to teach them a lesson if they could only reach them. A mile farther on, as they were passing some rocky ground, a line of fire spurted out from some bushes, and Lord O’Farnel, who had kept close to Jack, was thrown senseless to the ground, a bullet having killed his pony. Jack at once pulled up and dismounted, to find his friend huddled upon the ground with one leg twisted suspiciously beneath him.A glance told Jack that it was broken, and that it would be impossible to move his friend until something had been done. As a preliminary he straightened the limb out, and then turned Farney on his back and opened his collar. That done, he sprinkled some water on his face, obtaining it from his friend’s bottle, and looked round to see what had become of the column with whom they had charged.They were out of sight, and it looked as though the two young fellows were alone, but the phit, phit of two bullets flying past his head, and the loud thuds and spurts of dust which followed, told him that some of the Boers were still in the neighbourhood and were firing at him. But he could see no one, though he searched all round. He and his friend lay in a wide hollow about half a mile across, and close to an isolated patch of boulders which cropped up in the centre.“There are some Boers over there,” thought Jack, “and if I am not precious careful they will bag me. But I’m not going to get hit or taken if I can help it.”Determined to make a fight for it, and protect his unconscious friend, he took Farney by the shoulders and dragged him across the ground as gently as possible till he was in a spot with an almost complete barrier of boulders round him. Then he called Prince and ordered him to lie down, which the obedient animal did at once.A few moments later Jack himself was hidden behind the rocks, and was busied in loading his own and Farney’s rifle, and in laying cartridges close at hand. “That’s all right,” he muttered. “Both magazines are full, so I ought to give a good account of myself. Now I’ll pile up a few more boulders, or I shall be getting some of those bullets flying closer to my head than I like.”Keeping his body sheltered as much as possible, he rapidly piled up pieces of rock till there was a complete breastwork round himself and Farney. Then he sprinkled more water on the latter’s face, and finding that he was recovering consciousness, repeated it till his companion opened his eyes, looked about him in bewilderment, and then smiled serenely at Jack.“That you, Jack?” he asked. “What’s wrong with my leg? It feels quite dead; and where are the other fellows?”“Oh, the others have gone on, Farney!” Jack replied, “and as far as I can make out your right leg is broken somewhere above the knee. We’re here alone, old chap, and about a dozen Boers are sitting down firing at us. But they can keep that up all day without doing us any harm. We are in a regular fort here.”“Then you’ll have to defend it alone,” replied Farney, with a groan. “I’m just like a log. Half a minute though! Lend me that Mauser of yours. If they try to rush us, I shall be able to use that to some purpose.”Jack, who was lying flat on the ground all this time, handed his pistol to his friend, and then raised his head carefully and looked round. As he did so he saw a white flag flying from a rifle barrel some hundreds of yards away at the edge of the hollow. He at once tied his own handkerchief to his rifle and waved it. Then he stood up and advanced to meet the Boer who had first shown the white flag.“You are surrounded,” the latter said, “and so are all your comrades. Lay down your arms and surrender at once, or we will not be responsible for your life.”“Surrender!” said Jack in reply. “I shall certainly not do that yet. You have been firing at me for a good half-hour without touching me. Let me advise you to clear off, or else you will find yourselves prisoners long before you take me. The English are close at hand and will be here soon. You had better get away as quick as you can.”“Ah! we will see to that,” the Boer answered calmly. “I will give you five minutes longer, and if at the end of that time you have not agreed to surrender I shall give my men orders to shoot you like a dog.”“Very well,” said Jack coolly; “but I should advise you to leave me alone and get away while you can.”The Boer gave an impatient stamp with his foot and turned round brusquely, while Jack made his way back to his friend.“They have called upon me to surrender,” he said, “and I have refused, and advised them to clear off whilst they can. They are to give me five minutes, and if I haven’t raised the white flag by then they will attack.”“Well, what are you going to do?” asked Lord O’Farnel anxiously. “Don’t throw your life away, old boy. Mount your pony and make a dash for it! I’ll take care of myself.”“Oh no, you won’t!” exclaimed Jack sharply. “You’re hurt, and I’m going to get you safely back to friends. I’ve two rifles and plenty of ammunition. These Boers will have to shoot pretty well to touch us here, and if they want to get closer they will have to cross the open ground. If they try that game I think I can promise to stop every one of them before they reach me. But when it gets dark I suppose the game will be up. If your leg wasn’t broken I’d make a dash for it.”“Why not pack me up now?” asked Farney. “One rifle will be ample for you, for the magazine holds ten cartridges. Pull the lock out of the other, and tie my leg to it. I was shown how to make a gun splint by an army doctor and will put you up to the trick. Now open the lock, old boy. That’s it! Put the butt up under my arm and buckle it there with my belt. Now tie the leg to the barrel with my handkerchief and bandolier. That’s it! you’re a splendid surgeon, Jack. If you tie my other leg to the damaged one, you can do what you like without hurting me.”Jack did as he was directed. Placing the butt of the rifle beneath the arm he secured it there with Farney’s belt. Then he made the injured leg fast to the barrel, and with his own handkerchief and belt lashed both legs together.By this time more than five minutes had passed, and bullets had again begun to patter against the stones. But by dint of lifting a few more boulders into position Jack succeeded in constructing a few apertures through which he could see every part of the plain surrounding him. To reply to the shots directed against him was useless, for there was nothing but a series of faint puffs of flame to aim at. Still, he occasionally let off his rifle, to show the enemy that he was on the alert.Lying flat on the ground, he crawled from side to side of the fort, keeping a particularly sharp watch in the direction in which the white flag had been shown. Suddenly he saw the flag lifted again, but this time it was waved rapidly to and fro, and then lowered. A moment later about a dozen dark figures burst from various parts of the ridge surrounding the hollow, and commenced to run towards him.Leaning his rifle on a boulder, Jack took a steady aim and fired, the leader, who still carried the white flag attached to his weapon, falling forward on his face at once. Then he loaded again and picked off another of the attackers.Within a minute he had discharged five more cartridges, his aim proving true on every occasion, so that as many as four Boers now lay motionless upon the ground, while three more were limping slowly away.Then Jack made use of his magazine, and within as many seconds had shot two more of the Boers who happened to be close together.The slaughter proved too much for the men who were attacking. At no time fond of exposing themselves in the open, they had dared it now knowing that only one rifle was opposed to them. But that rifle in Jack’s hands was a deadly one, and, astonished and dismayed at the accurate shooting and at the loss they had already suffered, the remaining Boers turned and fled for their lives, Jack sending a few parting shots after them.“They will let us alone for a little while after that,” he exclaimed with a grunt of satisfaction. “Well, in a couple of hours it will be dark, and if they haven’t taken me by then, I shall make a bolt for it. Will you be ready, Farney?”“Ready, old chap!” answered Lord O’Farnel with a gay laugh. “Of course I shall be! I dare say it will hurt a bit, but I don’t want to become a Boer prisoner any more than you do. But how are you going to manage? I shall be awfully in the way. Why not leave me, and when you have reached the camp, come back for me with a few others to help you, and a stretcher?”Jack glared at his friend.“Did I not say I was going to get you out of this?” he said brusquely. “I’m going to do it, and if you say another word I shall think you are afraid I shall hurt you!”“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Farney. “Don’t get annoyed. ’Pon my word, for a quiet inoffensive young chap, you are quite the boldest I have ever met. Have a try at getting me out and you will not hear a groan from me. But I wish I could help you. It’s hateful to have to lie here and never fire a shot, whilst those fellows are sending showers of bullets at us.”“Very well,” replied Jack in a softer tone, “wait till it is dark and we will get out of this. Half a minute, though. I think I shall be able to put these Boers off the scent.”Giving a sharp look round to see that a second rush was not being made, Jack slipped out of the fort, and, opening his knife, commenced cutting a big armful of grass and weed which grew beneath many of the boulders. Then, still hidden from the Boers, he hacked at a small tree which stood near at hand, and crawled back to the fort dragging it after him. Bundling the reeds and grass into as close compass as possible, he bound them round with others. Then he cut the branches off the tree and thrust the slim pole it left up through the centre of his bundle. With his friend’s hat on top his dummy was completed, and a few moments later he had arranged a heap of stones with which to prop it up.“There,” he said, surveying the reeds with satisfaction, “as soon as it gets dusk we will put that up. That will make them think I am still here, and when night really falls I shall lift you as well as I can, get on Prince, and ride away in the direction in which we were galloping. If they look for us anywhere, it will be towards the camp, so that by going the opposite way, and leaving our dummy up, we shall put them completely off the scent.”“Well, you are a ’cute one!” chuckled Farney. “Put them off the scent! I should think it would! But you’ll find me an awful weight, old chap. Still, I’ve no doubt you’ll manage it. You’ve stuck to this business like a brick, and as you’ve said you’ll get me back to the camp I believe you’ll do it.”It was already late in the afternoon, and the sun had sunk behind the sharp ridge of the Drakenberg range. But there was still sufficient light to see across the open ground to the circumference of the hollow, and since Jack had nothing more to do than to keep a good lookout, he opened his haversack and made a hearty meal of biscuits and a piece of cheese. Lord O’Farnel wouldn’t touch a mouthful. Poor fellow! though evidently suffering acute agony from his broken leg, he never allowed so much as a groan to escape him. But his knitted forehead and the perspiration on his face showed that he was in pain, which was so severe that, though he had not touched a morsel since the previous night, he refused even to nibble a biscuit. But he drank all that remained in his water-bottle, and seemed much refreshed.“Now, I think it is about time to stick our dummy up,” said Jack, when it became so dark that the edges of the hollow were indistinct.Slowly lifting the bundle, he perched it above the rocks, and wedged the stake between the stones; as he did so, a volley fired from some twenty rifles, showing that reinforcements had reached the Boers, was discharged at the figure, and a dozen or more bullets passed through it.For ten minutes the firing continued and then slackened off, till it ceased altogether. By this time it was almost pitch dark, so that Jack determined to set off.Prince was already on his feet, and having placed him close to a boulder which he could use as a mounting-block, he went across to Lord O’Farnel, slung his rifle across his shoulder, grasped his pistol in his right hand, after having slipped one arm under his friend’s legs, and, passing the other beneath his shoulders, lifted him gently from the ground.“Put your arms round my neck,” he whispered. “Now hold on as tight as you can.”Stepping across the fort, Jack mounted the boulder and seated himself on Prince’s back.A touch with his heel sent the pony ahead, and soon they were out in the open, heading away from the camp.About five minutes later Jack managed to hook his fingers in the reins and pull up, for the sound of approaching footsteps fell on his ear. Then two dusky figures slipped by in the darkness, and having given them time to pass on, Jack once more set his animal going. When he had ridden about a mile, and was well clear of the hollow, there was a sudden burst of firing behind him followed by fierce shouts, changing almost immediately to angry cries, which reached him distinctly in the still night air.“Ah!” he thought, “the Boers have been fairly taken in, and have rushed the fort, only to find a dummy there. I expect they are mad with rage.”Turning to the left, he now made a wide détour, and about two hours later rode into Craigside camp, utterly worn out with his exertions.He was at once greeted with anxious questions as to the safety and whereabouts of the column with whom he and Lord O’Farnel had ridden. But his first duty was to his friend, whom he carried towards the hospital tent. Here he found all the surgeons who were not out on the elopes of Talana Hill searching for the killed and wounded, hard at work treating the cases that had been brought in. But they had time to look to Lord O’Farnel.“What’s happened?” asked one of them, coming out of the tent and helping Jack to dismount with his burden. “Broken thigh? You’ve got that splint put on very nicely. Let us carry him in and look at him.”A minute later Farney was lying on a stretcher, and the splint was being taken off.But the poor fellow knew nothing about it. Up to that he had borne the jolting, as he was being carried in Jack’s arms, without a murmur, but when they reached the camp, his arms, which had been round his friend’s neck, relaxed, and he went off into a dead faint. Jack waited long enough to see his clothes removed and the limb set. Then he went out of the tent and strolled back towards the quarters he had occupied on the previous night, leading Prince with him.“Hi! Somerton!” someone shouted at this moment, “where are you?”Jack walked towards the sound, and was met by a young officer carrying a lantern, and at once recognised him as one he had met in the Hussar mess on the previous night, and who was pointed out to him as being on the staff.“I’ve been sent after you,” the officer said, “to ask what has become of Moller’s horse. You and O’Farnel rode out with them, I know, but none of them has returned up to this, though we heard firing in their direction. It begins to look nasty. Do you think they have been trapped?”“I should not be at all surprised if they have been,” Jack answered. “O’Farnel and I were cut off and surrounded about a mile beyond the shoulder of the hill, and the remainder of our fellows rode on still farther. Towards evening I also heard firing right away behind, and there was more than one gun at work. I fear they have been taken. The Boer flight was a ruse. They certainly, bolted from the top of Talana Hill, but once they reached their friends with the guns they must have rallied. I know we were surrounded by about twenty of them.”“Then they have been taken,” exclaimed the young staff-officer with conviction. “It’s bad luck, and just spoils our victory. It was just like the plucky beggars to ride on when they must have known that hosts of Boers were near them. But how did you manage to get away, Somerton? Our friends didn’t let you go, I’m sure, and twenty to two, and one of those two wounded, is precious long odds to fight against.”“Oh, they did their best to bag us!” answered Jack quietly. “But we played their own particular game. O’Farnel was knocked over and badly hurt, so I stopped to help him. Then, when the Boers began to fire, I dragged him behind the stones, built up a kind of fort round us, and banged at them in return. They told me to surrender, and I advised them to clear off. Then they made a rush, but that didn’t help them, for I was able to bowl several of them over long before they reached the fort. After that they got under cover again, and as soon as it was dark we slipped away, leaving a dummy stuck up on a stick to make them believe we were there. They made a splendid rush in the dark and captured it, and weren’t they wild when they found we had gone!”“By Jove! do you mean to say you kept a lot of them at bay, and got clean away, bringing a badly-injured man with you?” exclaimed the officer. “Well, you’re a plucky beggar, and I shall tell our general. By the way, have you heard that poor General Symons was badly hit, and is now in hospital?”“I haven’t heard anything,” Jack answered. “Tell me how many men we have lost.”“Ah, it’s a big list!” answered the staff-officer with a sigh. “Ten officers killed and 22 wounded; 30 men killed and 150 wounded. It’s a big bill to pay for our success, but I suppose no bigger than one might have expected. I dare say there will be one or two more to add to it when the search parties have come in. They have been out a long time now, and the Boer prisoners we took are helping like bricks. They can fight, can those fellows, and our engagement to-day will teach both sides a lesson. We shall respect them more, and follow their tactics of taking cover; while they will have learnt that Rooineks are lads filled with any amount of pluck. By Jove! it was grand to see the way in which the 60th and the Irishmen went up that hill. They have covered themselves with glory, and to-morrow the whole world will be singing their praises.”“Yes, they are fine fellows,” agreed Jack. “I thought it hardly possible that men could advance in the teeth of such a storm of bullets. But tell me what losses the Boers suffered, and what our movements are likely to be after this.”“The Boers lost heavily. They must have done so,” answered the officer; “but exactly how many were killed and wounded it is impossible to state. They make it a rule to carry as many as they can away with them, and the list will never be published. Even in Pretoria they will never know. As to our future movements, I believe we shall retire on Ladysmith very shortly. In fact I expect it will be as much as we can do to get there at all. Even now our communications may have been cut, and we shall have to fight our way through. When we reach the base camp I hear we shall make a stand and entrench ourselves. If you are anxious to be cooped up there for a few weeks you had better join some of the Natal volunteers. If not, I advise you to get away as quickly as you can. Well, good-night, Somerton! I’m glad you showed your metal and brought O’Farnel out.”“Good-night!” answered Jack, and then walked across to the tent, and having tethered his pony and brought him some water, snatched a meagre repast and lay down to sleep. Early next morning he went to see how O’Farnel was getting on.As he reached the tent the surgeon in charge of the hospital emerged, and, recognising him, shook him cordially by the hand.“My dear fellow,” he said enthusiastically, “O’Farnel has told us all about your gallant action. Let me congratulate you. It was splendid, and you have shown our enemies what one plucky youngster can do against a crowd of them. Your friend is doing nicely, and I fancy is longing to see you. He’s at the end. Take care not to lean upon the stretcher or you may disturb the splints.”Jack thanked the surgeon for his congratulations, modestly disclaiming any praise for what he had done. Then he lifted the flap of the tent and entered.“Hallo, Jack!” Farney sang out cheerfully from the farther end; “come here, my preserver, and let me thank you.”“Oh, never mind that, Farney!” Jack replied shortly. “Tell me how you feel.”“But I do mind, old chap!” persisted O’Farnel earnestly. “Jack, you are a real plucky fellow, and if you did not exactly save my life, you certainly kept me from becoming a Boer prisoner. It was fine the way you kept all those fellows away from our fort, and it was noble of you to stick by me. There, I know you don’t like my saying anything about it. Shake hands, old boy; but you’ll not forget that Farney is deeply in your debt, and will not be happy till he has repaid you.“Now, I hear our fellows are about to retire. That means we shall be left here under the red-cross flag. What will you do? Go with them, I suppose?”“Yes; I think I shall slip away now,” replied Jack. “They tell me all the troops are likely to be shut up in Ladysmith, and as I promised to go to Kimberley, I shall set out at once. Good-bye, Farney! You’ll get on well, I hope, and soon be about again.”The two bade one another farewell, and, issuing from the tent, Jack returned to his own quarters and saddled up his ponies. Late that evening he arrived once more at Ladysmith, and took up his quarters at the hotel. Here he learnt that another big battle had been fought during that afternoon at Elandslaagte, and that a large number had fallen on both sides. Tired though he was, he at once rode back along the road to Dundee, and arrived at the scene of the day’s battle after covering some fifteen miles.Then he joined a search-party, and all that night and on into the following morning he helped to bring in the poor fellows who had been wounded. Boers and British were picked up just as they were found, and treated with equal kindness. And all the while, as the searchers toiled amongst the boulders on the hill, thunder roared above them, and forked lightning lit up the scene, while a bitterly cold rain fell in torrents, soaking everyone to the skin, and increasing the troubles of the wounded.The battle of Elandslaagte proved to have been almost similar to that of Talana Mill, and as stubbornly fought. Commencing as a mere reconnaissance under General French, it had developed into a pitched battle. As usual the Boers were hidden amongst the boulders of a huge kopje with two guns at the summit; and up the slopes of this, with shell from our own batteries pounding overhead, and a hail of bullets pouring down at them, the Manchesters, the Devons, and the Gordon Highlanders, assisted by the Imperial Light Horse, rushed with dauntless courage, capturing the position, and bayoneting those of the Boers who had not fled. Many of the enemy were thrust through and through by the lances of our troopers and by the sabres of the 5th Dragoon Guards, for our men were not likely to spare anyone when just before they had seen many of their own comrades shot down on the side of the kopje by a party of Boers bearing the white flag.And all the time, while shells were screaming, and bursting to form a huge red blotch against the dark hillside, while men were gallantly forcing their way up to the summit, and others were shooting them down, a violent storm was raging, and sheets of water were almost hiding the combatants from one another.And now, as Jack helped to find the killed and wounded, the thunder of the guns and the rattle of the rifles had ceased for good, and only fierce gusts of ice-cold wind and rain whistled across the ground and moaned and shrieked mournfully round the boulders. Late on the following day the list of killed and wounded was complete, and on our side included 4 officers killed and 31 wounded; a total which, with direct evidence from prisoners, went far to prove that the Boers purposely picked off our gallant leaders. Of rank and file we lost 37 killed and 175 wounded; while on the enemy’s side numbers were again uncertain, though more than 100 dead bodies were found, and amongst these that of their commanding officer. Many prisoners were taken, and one of them proved to be Colonel Schiel, an ex-German officer who had trained the Transvaal artillerists in the use of cannon.Two days after the battle of Elandslaagte, Jack was back at Ladysmith, and having rested his ponies, he managed to secure places in a railway truck for them, and was rapidly conveyed to Durban. Here he engaged a passage in a steamer sailing in less than a week for Port Elizabeth, and, having stabled his ponies, took the train back to ’Maritzburg, where he called upon the Hunters, and took up his quarters with them for the short time which intervened before the ship was to sail.Later on, full particulars from northern Natal reached him, and he learned with a thrill of pride that despite the numbers of the enemy who were endeavouring to cut off the troops at Glencoe, the latter had retired, under the leadership of General Yule, to Ladysmith, making use of the Helpmakaar road. It had been a dangerous and exceedingly trying march, and to make it possible all the wounded, including the gallant General Symons, who subsequently succumbed to his injury, had been left behind under the red-cross flag and in charge of our own army surgeons. And the Boers had shown that flag all due respect, and had indeed been most kind and humane to all our poor fellows.To aid the retirement, General White had marched from Ladysmith and had fought an engagement at Reitfontein. Once the forces had joined hands they fell back on Ladysmith. A series of fiercely—contested engagements was then fought out, the British troops slowly retiring upon their camp before the advancing hordes of Boers. An unfortunate accident during this retirement resulted in the capture, after a gallant stand, of some thousand of our brave fellows. They lost their way in the dark, and the mules stampeded with their guns. Still, they occupied Nicholson’s Nek and fought to the bitter end, when, their ammunition having failed, they were compelled to surrender. On our side many were killed and wounded, and on the enemy’s, the losses were reported to have been exceptionally severe. But the Boers pressed on, and at length, after a few days of skirmishing and fighting, closely invested Ladysmith, and then marched on as far as Colenso and the River Tugela.Then for days and days little was heard of the besieged garrison, save that they were continually bombarded by heavy guns, fired some five miles away, and to which the naval twelve-pounders and 4.7-inch guns replied, the latter having arrived with a naval brigade 500 strong just in the nick of time.Once the Boers attempted an assault, during which they lost heavily. They were repulsed, and from that date, for many long weeks, they kept up a desultory bombardment, but never returned to the assault. And inside the camp the troops played football and polo, now and again varying the monotony of the siege by a gallant sortie, in which they destroyed more than one of the enemy’s guns. And thus we will leave them for a time, boldly holding their own, while we return to Jack Somerton.
When Jack came down to breakfast on the morning following the departure of Mrs Hunter and Wilfred for Pietermaritzburg, there was only one vacant place in the cramped little dining-room of the hotel, and on taking his seat he found himself face to face with a young fellow some three years older than himself, who was dressed in civilian riding-costume which closely resembled the khaki uniform worn by officers.
He was a jovial-looking fellow, with clean-shaven face, laughing eyes, and a head which was covered with closely-cropped red hair.
“Good morning!” he said, as Jack sat down. “It’s not much of a breakfast this morning; but then what can you expect with so many of these lusty officers about. They’ve eaten us out of house and home. Well, they’ll fight all the better. By the way, what are you? Volunteer, Natal carbineer, or civilian? Excuse my asking, but I am a stranger here, and am anxious to get information.”
“Then you have come to the wrong man this time,” Jack answered with a smile. “I only arrived a day ago, and know simply nothing.”
“In that case I dare say I shall be able to teach you then. My name’s O’Farnel, Lord Edward O’Farnel, commonly known as ‘Farney’. If we’re both strangers we had better look round together.”
“Delighted, I’m sure!” Jack exclaimed. “I was wondering what I should do with myself. I only came through from Johnny’s Burg a few days ago, and before that I had ridden over from Kimberley; so you can understand I am a perfect stranger here.”
“That was a long ride,” said Lord O’Farnel. “Tell me about it, and what kind of an experience you had coming down. By all accounts some of the refugees had a terrible time of it.”
Jack at once complied, and before the meal was over found himself on most friendly terms with the young lord who sat opposite him.
“Now tell me something about yourself,” he said, when he had told O’Farnel how he had come down from Johannesburg, and how he had spent his time since arriving in Africa.
“Something about myself, is it?” replied his companion. “Well, there’s very little. I’m twenty-two or thereabouts, Irish, and have no profession. Away back in good old Ireland I’ve a castle and a mansion, and any amount of acres which bring me in about twopence halfpenny a year. Ah, it’s a fine place, and very good to look at, but ruination to keep up! I said ‘Good-bye’ to it three years ago, and since then I have been travelling round. Last year I went home for a week, thinking they’d be pleased to see me; but, bless your life, the old caretaker in the mansion was the only one who cared a jot. The others thought I had come for the rent, so the very next morning they had dug a grave in front of the hall-door and put an old black coffin near it with a notice on top, written in the best of Irish, advising me to clear out at once. Pleasant fellows! They’ve quaint ways about them, but they are good-hearted all the same.
“I took their advice and left at once, and then came out here to see what I could do at the mines. But Kruger and his friends had upset everything, so I went south to Durban for a time, and when there was a talk of fun up here I took the train and came on the chance of seeing it. But how to do it is the next thing. What do you think, Somerton?”
“I am going back to Kimberley very soon,” said Jack; “but if there is to be a struggle in this direction I shall stay for a time and join in if I can. I was told yesterday that volunteers are badly wanted, and that anyone could be taken for the Imperial Light Horse. But that would be more or less of a tie. I really don’t see why we should not take part in all the fun as simple volunteers. Have you a rifle and a mount?”
“Yes, I have a good pony and the usual rifle,” O’Farnel answered; “and what is more, my kit makes me practically the same as any of the volunteers. I have been here for the last week, and so can put you in the way of things. I know one of the officers in a regiment stationed here. Let us look him up. I dare say he could get whatever you want, and I should advise you to buy a suit of khaki and a pair of putties. Then we will see whether we cannot go along with the troops.”
Accordingly Jack and O’Farnel strolled across to one of the camps and were fortunate enough to find the officer of whom the latter had spoken.
“Hallo, Farney!” he exclaimed, as they stopped opposite his tent. “So you’ve come up here! I thought you were going to stay at Durban.”
“No, I’ve got a restless fit on, Roper, and have come to see what is doing here. This is Jack Somerton, a friend of mine. By the way, he wants to get some kit. Can you help him?”
“I may be able to,” answered Roper. “Come over to the quartermaster and we will see what he has to say.” When they reached the quartermaster’s stores, which were temporarily in a large tin house, they found that he had a complete kit to sell, one of the men having been killed on the way up to Ladysmith in a railway accident.
The clothes were just the right size for Jack, and he quickly became possessed of them.
“There,” said Roper, as he handed them to Jack, “it’s not exactly correct, you know. These should be sold by auction in the regiment. But no one wants them, and you have paid more than they would have fetched at a sale.”
“Now we want to know whether you can help us to see some of the fun,” said O’Farnel. “We will volunteer for anything so long as it does not tie us down.”
“Then I should advise your going farther north,” said Roper. “Here you are not likely to come in for much, for the Free Staters compel us to keep on the watch. But General Symons is at Dundee, up towards the north of Natal, about thirty miles away, and if you go up there you are certain to see some fighting. He has 4000 men, and he will strike the first big blow. Look here, Farney, I’ll give you a note to a fellow I know in the Hussars up there, and if there’s to be a battle, he will see that you both have a share in it.”
“Thanks, that will suit us capitally!” said Lord O’Farnel. “We’ll start as soon as you can give me the note, for it would be an awful disappointment to arrive too late.”
A few moments afterwards they returned to their hotel, where Jack discarded his shabby tweed suit and donned the khaki.
“There you are now,” said Farney, looking quizzically at him. “You look just like the ordinary ‘Tommy’, and will do. My word, though, I thought what a quiet-looking fellow you were before; but now, what with the rifle and bayonet and that broad-brimmed hat, you look a regular mountebank! But come along. There is nothing to keep us, and we may as well start north at once.”
Having paid their bills, Jack and his new friend, Farney, saddled up their ponies and took the road for Glencoe.
It was a long ride, but the road passed through some wonderful bits of rugged scenery, and about half-way up they fell in with an ammunition column, with a small escort, and an officer who proved a perfect mine of information.
“Oh, yes!” he said, when Farney asked him, “there’s going to be a big battle up this way within a very short time. We are stationed at Dundee to check the invasion. We cannot stop it, for I suppose there must be thirty to forty thousand Boers marching south, besides others threatening our communications with Ladysmith. But we are bound to make a stand somewhere, just to show the beggars that they cannot have things all their own way.
“I hear all the enemy came over the border on the evening of 11th October, and on Saturday they were at Newcastle. Since then they have been pushing slowly south, while hundreds of wagons have followed them. They mean business, do those Boers, and we shall have a pretty hard job to turn them out of Natal when reinforcements reach us.”
“Then you think we shall have to retire?” said Jack.
“I’m sure,” replied the officer. “Joubert is as cunning as a fox, and a clever soldier. He is marching in three columns. One came through Botha’s Pass, close below Majuba. The centre one has passed through Newcastle, and the third, on our right, is marching down the eastern border, and will no doubt make a dash to cut our communications. They are too many for us. We shall have a go at them, hammer them, and then retire to Ladysmith, where we shall entrench ourselves and wait for reinforcements, which will take some weeks to reach us.
“I suppose you fellows are going up as volunteers? There are lots more like you. If you have never been under fire, you will have that experience before long. It’s not so bad after all. Keep cool, and take, advantage of every scrap of cover. Keep an eye overhead, too, if you can. It is possible to dodge a shell, and the farther you can get away from it the better.”
It was late on the evening of 19th October when Jack and Farney reached the British tents at Craigside Camp, between Dundee and Glencoe, and close against Talana Hill, which was to be the scene of the next day’s battle.
A few enquiries soon brought them to the Hussar quarters, and having introduced themselves to Roper’s friend, by means of his note, they were both able to get a shake-down in a tent near by for the night, as well as a good meal.
They had had a long and tiring ride, and were soon asleep, wrapped in the blankets which each one had carried strapped behind his saddle.
Just as daylight dawned on the following morning they were startled from their sleep by a succession of loud reports, followed in a few seconds by the screaming of several shells overhead and by an explosion close at hand.
“By Jove, they’ve started already, so we’re in the nick of time!” exclaimed Jack, jumping up and rushing outside the tent, where he was joined by Farney. “What has happened?” he asked an officer, who was passing at that moment.
“Lucas Meyer has occupied Talana Hill,” was the reply, “and he is shelling us with six guns. Wait a few minutes! Our batteries are galloping out, and you will see how soon they will polish those beggars off!”
Hastily slinging their belts across their shoulders and picking up their rifles and blankets, Jack and his friend saddled their ponies, which had spent the night close by, and cantered out of the camp after the British guns, which had already taken up a position.
“That was a close one,” exclaimed Jack calmly a moment later, as a shell whizzed just above his head and plunged into the ground behind, where it failed to explode. “A foot lower and it would have knocked my head to pieces!”
“Ah, there’s many a slip!” laughed Farney light-heartedly. “Look at our fellows! They are giving our friends over there a good peppering.”
Jack turned to watch the British guns, of which there were twelve, and then directed the field-glasses which he had purchased in Ladysmith at the heights of the Talana Hill. There he could see six cannon belching forth sharp spirts of flame, but no smoke, for the latest ammunition was being used.
As he looked, the British batteries spoke out, and the reports were followed by a succession of blinding flashes close by the Boer guns.
For twenty minutes the storm of shell continued to fall, and by that time the enemy had ceased to fire, and their guns stood unattended.
By now the troops had poured out of the camp, and while some remained behind in case of an attack, the King’s Royal Rifles, a gallant corps commonly known as the 60th, the Dublin Fusiliers, and the Royal Irish Fusiliers, both regiments composed of stalwart, dashing Irishmen, fell in on the bugle-call, and formed up for the attack. Smart, bold fellows they all looked too, clad in their khaki uniforms, with belts, helmets, and buttons all of the same mud-colour. And true heroes they were soon to prove themselves, for the bugles now rang out the “Advance”, and in open order they set off for Talana Hill across a wide, sweeping plain, almost completely devoid of cover, and shortly to be swept by a murderous hail of Mauser bullets directed by unseen hands.
At this moment another Boer commando was reported advancing from the left, and the Leicester Regiment and a battery of guns was sent against them.
“By George, it looks as though we meant to clear that hill!” exclaimed Farney excitedly. “What shall we do, Somerton? Leave our horses and follow them, or stay where we are for a time?”
“Let us ask Preston,” said Jack, nodding to the Hussar officer who had befriended them on the previous night, and who galloped up at that moment.
“Look here, Preston,” Farney called out. “Somerton and I want to have a hand in this battle. What shall we do?”
“If you will take my advice,” Preston answered, “you will join us. The chances are you would be in the way over there with the regulars, and your ponies would certainly be picked off. We are going to form over by the shoulder of the hill, and when our boys have set the beggars running, we will gallop round and break them up. There will be some fun in it, and you may both of you just as well have a share.”
Accordingly Jack and Lord O’Farnel joined the Hussars and a body of mounted infantry supplied by the Rifle Regiments and by the Dublin Fusiliers.
Jack was mounted on Prince, and had left Vic behind, as it was unlikely that he would require two mounts.
They rode forward close in rear of the advancing regiments until the bullets began to whistle past them, while now and again some poor fellow tumbled forward on the ground. But undeterred, with never a backward glance or a thought of flinching, the three British regiments pushed forward, the nonchalance and absolute coolness of the men being superb. They acted just as if on a big field-day at home in the Long Valley, and as if sure that, within a certain time, and after firing so many rounds and marching a given number of miles, they would return to camp, and to a comfortable dinner which would await them.
Many of the men smoked pipes and cigarettes, and joked and called to one another as they advanced, but for all that, beneath all their dogged pluck and coolness, there was a certain restlessness, a nervous grasp of the rifle, and a keen look in their eyes which told that they had braced themselves for a determined effort, and that nothing, not even thoughts of sweethearts and wives and children at home, or even death, should deter them from mounting the slopes of the hill in front of them and putting the Boers to flight.
“By Jove, it’s fine to see them!” Farney cried, with a ring of pride in his voice. “Look at them now! They have opened out, and the foremost lines have reached the edge of the hill. Ah, now they are giving it to them! Volley-firing, regular and well delivered. Look at them now, Jack; they are pushing up the hill, and more of the poor fellows are dropping! Ah! who would now dare to say that my countrymen are disloyal? I know some of them have acted as blackguards at home, but they are the scum of Irishmen, while these soldiers are real, brave boys!”
By this time the three advancing regiments had commenced to climb the hill, and the batteries had galloped up to closer range, and were now pouring in a hail of shrapnel at the puffs of flame which told where the Boer marksmen were. On our side, too, the men were cunningly taking advantage of every stone and boulder, or bravely facing the hail where no cover existed, and from their rifles a steady discharge of bullets was kept up at the heights above.
And behind them, and right up in the firing line, with no time to think of cover, the army surgeons and the bearers of the Army Medical Corps were at work picking up the wounded, applying dressings, and carrying the poor fellows away with a coolness and bravery which matched that of the other soldiers.
But our lads were gradually creeping up the hill, and were now within 300 yards of the summit, where they lay down, and poured in murderous volleys at the Boers, while a few feet overhead a succession of screaming shells flew by, to plunge amongst the boulders a few moments later, and burst with an appalling roar, scattering death-dealing bullets on every side.
Gallantly did our brave fellows fight, and gallantly too did the Boer marksmen prove their devotion to their country. Struck down on every side, they still stuck to their posts, and in those last few minutes added numbers to our list of dead and wounded.
But British pluck, whether bred in England, Ireland, Scotland, or Wales, or indeed in any of our colonies, was not to be gainsaid. With a roaring cheer and the shrill notes of the “charge” sounding along the hill, the British fixed bayonets, sprang to their feet, and made one rush for the summit of Talana, never pausing to fire, but trusting to reach the enemy and apply cold steel, the most terrifying death of all. But the Boers did not wait for them. Those that had held so stubbornly to the crest of the hill had performed their allotted task, for they had enabled their comrades to withdraw the guns and retreat in order; and now, springing from behind the boulders, they darted down the other side, a mark for the bullets of our soldiers.
Meanwhile the two hundred cavalry with whom Jack and Farney had thrown in their lot had been quietly walking their horses round the shoulder of the hill. As the infantry lay down for the last time before the charge, Colonel Moller, who was in command, gave the order to trot, and the little column swept round the shoulder, a Maxim gun on a galloping carriage trundling along in the centre. Arrived in sight of the reverse side of the hill, they halted for a few moments and waited for the flight of the Boers. Already they were retiring in ones and twos, but a minute later they came in a swarm.
“Draw swords! Trot! Charge! At them, my lads!” came in quick, sharp tones, and in a second the horsemen had opened out, and were going pell-mell across the open space.
Jack was close to Farney, and as, like the mounted infantry, neither possessed a sword, they had fixed their bayonets on their rifles, and holding the latter close to the lock, with the bayonet well advanced, prepared to use them as lances.
A moment later they were amongst the flying enemy, bullets singing about their heads and knocking men out of their saddles. But all the time the sabres were flashing fiercely in the sunlight, and Jack and his friend were using their bayonets to advantage. It was a wild ten minutes, and what happened during that time Jack never knew. Almost before he had expected it, Boers rose up in front of him and fired point-blank in his face. One bullet actually grazed his forehead and sent his hat flying, while another smashed his water-bottle to pieces. But he knew nothing about it at the time. Gripping Prince firmly with his knees, and keeping him well in hand, he leant forward in the saddle prepared to act at any moment. Suddenly a huge, bearded Boer stood in his way, half-hidden by a boulder, and, waiting till Jack was almost on him, pulled his trigger. What happened to the bullet Jack never knew; probably it went beneath his arm, for he found a slit in the sleeve after the fight was over, but the concussion and flash of light almost blinded him. Next moment with a hitch at the reins and a touch with his leg, given almost unconsciously, he was round the boulder and had plunged his bayonet into the Boer’s body.
Then he dashed on and set his pony full-tilt at three of the enemy who were standing close together and emptying their magazines into the troopers. One he despatched with his bayonet, a second was knocked senseless by Prince’s shoulder, and the third was cut down a second later by a man galloping along close behind Jack.
But many of the Boers had managed to reach their ponies, and were galloping away to join their friends; and after them the gallant little body of horsemen spurred, determined to teach them a lesson if they could only reach them. A mile farther on, as they were passing some rocky ground, a line of fire spurted out from some bushes, and Lord O’Farnel, who had kept close to Jack, was thrown senseless to the ground, a bullet having killed his pony. Jack at once pulled up and dismounted, to find his friend huddled upon the ground with one leg twisted suspiciously beneath him.
A glance told Jack that it was broken, and that it would be impossible to move his friend until something had been done. As a preliminary he straightened the limb out, and then turned Farney on his back and opened his collar. That done, he sprinkled some water on his face, obtaining it from his friend’s bottle, and looked round to see what had become of the column with whom they had charged.
They were out of sight, and it looked as though the two young fellows were alone, but the phit, phit of two bullets flying past his head, and the loud thuds and spurts of dust which followed, told him that some of the Boers were still in the neighbourhood and were firing at him. But he could see no one, though he searched all round. He and his friend lay in a wide hollow about half a mile across, and close to an isolated patch of boulders which cropped up in the centre.
“There are some Boers over there,” thought Jack, “and if I am not precious careful they will bag me. But I’m not going to get hit or taken if I can help it.”
Determined to make a fight for it, and protect his unconscious friend, he took Farney by the shoulders and dragged him across the ground as gently as possible till he was in a spot with an almost complete barrier of boulders round him. Then he called Prince and ordered him to lie down, which the obedient animal did at once.
A few moments later Jack himself was hidden behind the rocks, and was busied in loading his own and Farney’s rifle, and in laying cartridges close at hand. “That’s all right,” he muttered. “Both magazines are full, so I ought to give a good account of myself. Now I’ll pile up a few more boulders, or I shall be getting some of those bullets flying closer to my head than I like.”
Keeping his body sheltered as much as possible, he rapidly piled up pieces of rock till there was a complete breastwork round himself and Farney. Then he sprinkled more water on the latter’s face, and finding that he was recovering consciousness, repeated it till his companion opened his eyes, looked about him in bewilderment, and then smiled serenely at Jack.
“That you, Jack?” he asked. “What’s wrong with my leg? It feels quite dead; and where are the other fellows?”
“Oh, the others have gone on, Farney!” Jack replied, “and as far as I can make out your right leg is broken somewhere above the knee. We’re here alone, old chap, and about a dozen Boers are sitting down firing at us. But they can keep that up all day without doing us any harm. We are in a regular fort here.”
“Then you’ll have to defend it alone,” replied Farney, with a groan. “I’m just like a log. Half a minute though! Lend me that Mauser of yours. If they try to rush us, I shall be able to use that to some purpose.”
Jack, who was lying flat on the ground all this time, handed his pistol to his friend, and then raised his head carefully and looked round. As he did so he saw a white flag flying from a rifle barrel some hundreds of yards away at the edge of the hollow. He at once tied his own handkerchief to his rifle and waved it. Then he stood up and advanced to meet the Boer who had first shown the white flag.
“You are surrounded,” the latter said, “and so are all your comrades. Lay down your arms and surrender at once, or we will not be responsible for your life.”
“Surrender!” said Jack in reply. “I shall certainly not do that yet. You have been firing at me for a good half-hour without touching me. Let me advise you to clear off, or else you will find yourselves prisoners long before you take me. The English are close at hand and will be here soon. You had better get away as quick as you can.”
“Ah! we will see to that,” the Boer answered calmly. “I will give you five minutes longer, and if at the end of that time you have not agreed to surrender I shall give my men orders to shoot you like a dog.”
“Very well,” said Jack coolly; “but I should advise you to leave me alone and get away while you can.”
The Boer gave an impatient stamp with his foot and turned round brusquely, while Jack made his way back to his friend.
“They have called upon me to surrender,” he said, “and I have refused, and advised them to clear off whilst they can. They are to give me five minutes, and if I haven’t raised the white flag by then they will attack.”
“Well, what are you going to do?” asked Lord O’Farnel anxiously. “Don’t throw your life away, old boy. Mount your pony and make a dash for it! I’ll take care of myself.”
“Oh no, you won’t!” exclaimed Jack sharply. “You’re hurt, and I’m going to get you safely back to friends. I’ve two rifles and plenty of ammunition. These Boers will have to shoot pretty well to touch us here, and if they want to get closer they will have to cross the open ground. If they try that game I think I can promise to stop every one of them before they reach me. But when it gets dark I suppose the game will be up. If your leg wasn’t broken I’d make a dash for it.”
“Why not pack me up now?” asked Farney. “One rifle will be ample for you, for the magazine holds ten cartridges. Pull the lock out of the other, and tie my leg to it. I was shown how to make a gun splint by an army doctor and will put you up to the trick. Now open the lock, old boy. That’s it! Put the butt up under my arm and buckle it there with my belt. Now tie the leg to the barrel with my handkerchief and bandolier. That’s it! you’re a splendid surgeon, Jack. If you tie my other leg to the damaged one, you can do what you like without hurting me.”
Jack did as he was directed. Placing the butt of the rifle beneath the arm he secured it there with Farney’s belt. Then he made the injured leg fast to the barrel, and with his own handkerchief and belt lashed both legs together.
By this time more than five minutes had passed, and bullets had again begun to patter against the stones. But by dint of lifting a few more boulders into position Jack succeeded in constructing a few apertures through which he could see every part of the plain surrounding him. To reply to the shots directed against him was useless, for there was nothing but a series of faint puffs of flame to aim at. Still, he occasionally let off his rifle, to show the enemy that he was on the alert.
Lying flat on the ground, he crawled from side to side of the fort, keeping a particularly sharp watch in the direction in which the white flag had been shown. Suddenly he saw the flag lifted again, but this time it was waved rapidly to and fro, and then lowered. A moment later about a dozen dark figures burst from various parts of the ridge surrounding the hollow, and commenced to run towards him.
Leaning his rifle on a boulder, Jack took a steady aim and fired, the leader, who still carried the white flag attached to his weapon, falling forward on his face at once. Then he loaded again and picked off another of the attackers.
Within a minute he had discharged five more cartridges, his aim proving true on every occasion, so that as many as four Boers now lay motionless upon the ground, while three more were limping slowly away.
Then Jack made use of his magazine, and within as many seconds had shot two more of the Boers who happened to be close together.
The slaughter proved too much for the men who were attacking. At no time fond of exposing themselves in the open, they had dared it now knowing that only one rifle was opposed to them. But that rifle in Jack’s hands was a deadly one, and, astonished and dismayed at the accurate shooting and at the loss they had already suffered, the remaining Boers turned and fled for their lives, Jack sending a few parting shots after them.
“They will let us alone for a little while after that,” he exclaimed with a grunt of satisfaction. “Well, in a couple of hours it will be dark, and if they haven’t taken me by then, I shall make a bolt for it. Will you be ready, Farney?”
“Ready, old chap!” answered Lord O’Farnel with a gay laugh. “Of course I shall be! I dare say it will hurt a bit, but I don’t want to become a Boer prisoner any more than you do. But how are you going to manage? I shall be awfully in the way. Why not leave me, and when you have reached the camp, come back for me with a few others to help you, and a stretcher?”
Jack glared at his friend.
“Did I not say I was going to get you out of this?” he said brusquely. “I’m going to do it, and if you say another word I shall think you are afraid I shall hurt you!”
“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Farney. “Don’t get annoyed. ’Pon my word, for a quiet inoffensive young chap, you are quite the boldest I have ever met. Have a try at getting me out and you will not hear a groan from me. But I wish I could help you. It’s hateful to have to lie here and never fire a shot, whilst those fellows are sending showers of bullets at us.”
“Very well,” replied Jack in a softer tone, “wait till it is dark and we will get out of this. Half a minute, though. I think I shall be able to put these Boers off the scent.”
Giving a sharp look round to see that a second rush was not being made, Jack slipped out of the fort, and, opening his knife, commenced cutting a big armful of grass and weed which grew beneath many of the boulders. Then, still hidden from the Boers, he hacked at a small tree which stood near at hand, and crawled back to the fort dragging it after him. Bundling the reeds and grass into as close compass as possible, he bound them round with others. Then he cut the branches off the tree and thrust the slim pole it left up through the centre of his bundle. With his friend’s hat on top his dummy was completed, and a few moments later he had arranged a heap of stones with which to prop it up.
“There,” he said, surveying the reeds with satisfaction, “as soon as it gets dusk we will put that up. That will make them think I am still here, and when night really falls I shall lift you as well as I can, get on Prince, and ride away in the direction in which we were galloping. If they look for us anywhere, it will be towards the camp, so that by going the opposite way, and leaving our dummy up, we shall put them completely off the scent.”
“Well, you are a ’cute one!” chuckled Farney. “Put them off the scent! I should think it would! But you’ll find me an awful weight, old chap. Still, I’ve no doubt you’ll manage it. You’ve stuck to this business like a brick, and as you’ve said you’ll get me back to the camp I believe you’ll do it.”
It was already late in the afternoon, and the sun had sunk behind the sharp ridge of the Drakenberg range. But there was still sufficient light to see across the open ground to the circumference of the hollow, and since Jack had nothing more to do than to keep a good lookout, he opened his haversack and made a hearty meal of biscuits and a piece of cheese. Lord O’Farnel wouldn’t touch a mouthful. Poor fellow! though evidently suffering acute agony from his broken leg, he never allowed so much as a groan to escape him. But his knitted forehead and the perspiration on his face showed that he was in pain, which was so severe that, though he had not touched a morsel since the previous night, he refused even to nibble a biscuit. But he drank all that remained in his water-bottle, and seemed much refreshed.
“Now, I think it is about time to stick our dummy up,” said Jack, when it became so dark that the edges of the hollow were indistinct.
Slowly lifting the bundle, he perched it above the rocks, and wedged the stake between the stones; as he did so, a volley fired from some twenty rifles, showing that reinforcements had reached the Boers, was discharged at the figure, and a dozen or more bullets passed through it.
For ten minutes the firing continued and then slackened off, till it ceased altogether. By this time it was almost pitch dark, so that Jack determined to set off.
Prince was already on his feet, and having placed him close to a boulder which he could use as a mounting-block, he went across to Lord O’Farnel, slung his rifle across his shoulder, grasped his pistol in his right hand, after having slipped one arm under his friend’s legs, and, passing the other beneath his shoulders, lifted him gently from the ground.
“Put your arms round my neck,” he whispered. “Now hold on as tight as you can.”
Stepping across the fort, Jack mounted the boulder and seated himself on Prince’s back.
A touch with his heel sent the pony ahead, and soon they were out in the open, heading away from the camp.
About five minutes later Jack managed to hook his fingers in the reins and pull up, for the sound of approaching footsteps fell on his ear. Then two dusky figures slipped by in the darkness, and having given them time to pass on, Jack once more set his animal going. When he had ridden about a mile, and was well clear of the hollow, there was a sudden burst of firing behind him followed by fierce shouts, changing almost immediately to angry cries, which reached him distinctly in the still night air.
“Ah!” he thought, “the Boers have been fairly taken in, and have rushed the fort, only to find a dummy there. I expect they are mad with rage.”
Turning to the left, he now made a wide détour, and about two hours later rode into Craigside camp, utterly worn out with his exertions.
He was at once greeted with anxious questions as to the safety and whereabouts of the column with whom he and Lord O’Farnel had ridden. But his first duty was to his friend, whom he carried towards the hospital tent. Here he found all the surgeons who were not out on the elopes of Talana Hill searching for the killed and wounded, hard at work treating the cases that had been brought in. But they had time to look to Lord O’Farnel.
“What’s happened?” asked one of them, coming out of the tent and helping Jack to dismount with his burden. “Broken thigh? You’ve got that splint put on very nicely. Let us carry him in and look at him.”
A minute later Farney was lying on a stretcher, and the splint was being taken off.
But the poor fellow knew nothing about it. Up to that he had borne the jolting, as he was being carried in Jack’s arms, without a murmur, but when they reached the camp, his arms, which had been round his friend’s neck, relaxed, and he went off into a dead faint. Jack waited long enough to see his clothes removed and the limb set. Then he went out of the tent and strolled back towards the quarters he had occupied on the previous night, leading Prince with him.
“Hi! Somerton!” someone shouted at this moment, “where are you?”
Jack walked towards the sound, and was met by a young officer carrying a lantern, and at once recognised him as one he had met in the Hussar mess on the previous night, and who was pointed out to him as being on the staff.
“I’ve been sent after you,” the officer said, “to ask what has become of Moller’s horse. You and O’Farnel rode out with them, I know, but none of them has returned up to this, though we heard firing in their direction. It begins to look nasty. Do you think they have been trapped?”
“I should not be at all surprised if they have been,” Jack answered. “O’Farnel and I were cut off and surrounded about a mile beyond the shoulder of the hill, and the remainder of our fellows rode on still farther. Towards evening I also heard firing right away behind, and there was more than one gun at work. I fear they have been taken. The Boer flight was a ruse. They certainly, bolted from the top of Talana Hill, but once they reached their friends with the guns they must have rallied. I know we were surrounded by about twenty of them.”
“Then they have been taken,” exclaimed the young staff-officer with conviction. “It’s bad luck, and just spoils our victory. It was just like the plucky beggars to ride on when they must have known that hosts of Boers were near them. But how did you manage to get away, Somerton? Our friends didn’t let you go, I’m sure, and twenty to two, and one of those two wounded, is precious long odds to fight against.”
“Oh, they did their best to bag us!” answered Jack quietly. “But we played their own particular game. O’Farnel was knocked over and badly hurt, so I stopped to help him. Then, when the Boers began to fire, I dragged him behind the stones, built up a kind of fort round us, and banged at them in return. They told me to surrender, and I advised them to clear off. Then they made a rush, but that didn’t help them, for I was able to bowl several of them over long before they reached the fort. After that they got under cover again, and as soon as it was dark we slipped away, leaving a dummy stuck up on a stick to make them believe we were there. They made a splendid rush in the dark and captured it, and weren’t they wild when they found we had gone!”
“By Jove! do you mean to say you kept a lot of them at bay, and got clean away, bringing a badly-injured man with you?” exclaimed the officer. “Well, you’re a plucky beggar, and I shall tell our general. By the way, have you heard that poor General Symons was badly hit, and is now in hospital?”
“I haven’t heard anything,” Jack answered. “Tell me how many men we have lost.”
“Ah, it’s a big list!” answered the staff-officer with a sigh. “Ten officers killed and 22 wounded; 30 men killed and 150 wounded. It’s a big bill to pay for our success, but I suppose no bigger than one might have expected. I dare say there will be one or two more to add to it when the search parties have come in. They have been out a long time now, and the Boer prisoners we took are helping like bricks. They can fight, can those fellows, and our engagement to-day will teach both sides a lesson. We shall respect them more, and follow their tactics of taking cover; while they will have learnt that Rooineks are lads filled with any amount of pluck. By Jove! it was grand to see the way in which the 60th and the Irishmen went up that hill. They have covered themselves with glory, and to-morrow the whole world will be singing their praises.”
“Yes, they are fine fellows,” agreed Jack. “I thought it hardly possible that men could advance in the teeth of such a storm of bullets. But tell me what losses the Boers suffered, and what our movements are likely to be after this.”
“The Boers lost heavily. They must have done so,” answered the officer; “but exactly how many were killed and wounded it is impossible to state. They make it a rule to carry as many as they can away with them, and the list will never be published. Even in Pretoria they will never know. As to our future movements, I believe we shall retire on Ladysmith very shortly. In fact I expect it will be as much as we can do to get there at all. Even now our communications may have been cut, and we shall have to fight our way through. When we reach the base camp I hear we shall make a stand and entrench ourselves. If you are anxious to be cooped up there for a few weeks you had better join some of the Natal volunteers. If not, I advise you to get away as quickly as you can. Well, good-night, Somerton! I’m glad you showed your metal and brought O’Farnel out.”
“Good-night!” answered Jack, and then walked across to the tent, and having tethered his pony and brought him some water, snatched a meagre repast and lay down to sleep. Early next morning he went to see how O’Farnel was getting on.
As he reached the tent the surgeon in charge of the hospital emerged, and, recognising him, shook him cordially by the hand.
“My dear fellow,” he said enthusiastically, “O’Farnel has told us all about your gallant action. Let me congratulate you. It was splendid, and you have shown our enemies what one plucky youngster can do against a crowd of them. Your friend is doing nicely, and I fancy is longing to see you. He’s at the end. Take care not to lean upon the stretcher or you may disturb the splints.”
Jack thanked the surgeon for his congratulations, modestly disclaiming any praise for what he had done. Then he lifted the flap of the tent and entered.
“Hallo, Jack!” Farney sang out cheerfully from the farther end; “come here, my preserver, and let me thank you.”
“Oh, never mind that, Farney!” Jack replied shortly. “Tell me how you feel.”
“But I do mind, old chap!” persisted O’Farnel earnestly. “Jack, you are a real plucky fellow, and if you did not exactly save my life, you certainly kept me from becoming a Boer prisoner. It was fine the way you kept all those fellows away from our fort, and it was noble of you to stick by me. There, I know you don’t like my saying anything about it. Shake hands, old boy; but you’ll not forget that Farney is deeply in your debt, and will not be happy till he has repaid you.
“Now, I hear our fellows are about to retire. That means we shall be left here under the red-cross flag. What will you do? Go with them, I suppose?”
“Yes; I think I shall slip away now,” replied Jack. “They tell me all the troops are likely to be shut up in Ladysmith, and as I promised to go to Kimberley, I shall set out at once. Good-bye, Farney! You’ll get on well, I hope, and soon be about again.”
The two bade one another farewell, and, issuing from the tent, Jack returned to his own quarters and saddled up his ponies. Late that evening he arrived once more at Ladysmith, and took up his quarters at the hotel. Here he learnt that another big battle had been fought during that afternoon at Elandslaagte, and that a large number had fallen on both sides. Tired though he was, he at once rode back along the road to Dundee, and arrived at the scene of the day’s battle after covering some fifteen miles.
Then he joined a search-party, and all that night and on into the following morning he helped to bring in the poor fellows who had been wounded. Boers and British were picked up just as they were found, and treated with equal kindness. And all the while, as the searchers toiled amongst the boulders on the hill, thunder roared above them, and forked lightning lit up the scene, while a bitterly cold rain fell in torrents, soaking everyone to the skin, and increasing the troubles of the wounded.
The battle of Elandslaagte proved to have been almost similar to that of Talana Mill, and as stubbornly fought. Commencing as a mere reconnaissance under General French, it had developed into a pitched battle. As usual the Boers were hidden amongst the boulders of a huge kopje with two guns at the summit; and up the slopes of this, with shell from our own batteries pounding overhead, and a hail of bullets pouring down at them, the Manchesters, the Devons, and the Gordon Highlanders, assisted by the Imperial Light Horse, rushed with dauntless courage, capturing the position, and bayoneting those of the Boers who had not fled. Many of the enemy were thrust through and through by the lances of our troopers and by the sabres of the 5th Dragoon Guards, for our men were not likely to spare anyone when just before they had seen many of their own comrades shot down on the side of the kopje by a party of Boers bearing the white flag.
And all the time, while shells were screaming, and bursting to form a huge red blotch against the dark hillside, while men were gallantly forcing their way up to the summit, and others were shooting them down, a violent storm was raging, and sheets of water were almost hiding the combatants from one another.
And now, as Jack helped to find the killed and wounded, the thunder of the guns and the rattle of the rifles had ceased for good, and only fierce gusts of ice-cold wind and rain whistled across the ground and moaned and shrieked mournfully round the boulders. Late on the following day the list of killed and wounded was complete, and on our side included 4 officers killed and 31 wounded; a total which, with direct evidence from prisoners, went far to prove that the Boers purposely picked off our gallant leaders. Of rank and file we lost 37 killed and 175 wounded; while on the enemy’s side numbers were again uncertain, though more than 100 dead bodies were found, and amongst these that of their commanding officer. Many prisoners were taken, and one of them proved to be Colonel Schiel, an ex-German officer who had trained the Transvaal artillerists in the use of cannon.
Two days after the battle of Elandslaagte, Jack was back at Ladysmith, and having rested his ponies, he managed to secure places in a railway truck for them, and was rapidly conveyed to Durban. Here he engaged a passage in a steamer sailing in less than a week for Port Elizabeth, and, having stabled his ponies, took the train back to ’Maritzburg, where he called upon the Hunters, and took up his quarters with them for the short time which intervened before the ship was to sail.
Later on, full particulars from northern Natal reached him, and he learned with a thrill of pride that despite the numbers of the enemy who were endeavouring to cut off the troops at Glencoe, the latter had retired, under the leadership of General Yule, to Ladysmith, making use of the Helpmakaar road. It had been a dangerous and exceedingly trying march, and to make it possible all the wounded, including the gallant General Symons, who subsequently succumbed to his injury, had been left behind under the red-cross flag and in charge of our own army surgeons. And the Boers had shown that flag all due respect, and had indeed been most kind and humane to all our poor fellows.
To aid the retirement, General White had marched from Ladysmith and had fought an engagement at Reitfontein. Once the forces had joined hands they fell back on Ladysmith. A series of fiercely—contested engagements was then fought out, the British troops slowly retiring upon their camp before the advancing hordes of Boers. An unfortunate accident during this retirement resulted in the capture, after a gallant stand, of some thousand of our brave fellows. They lost their way in the dark, and the mules stampeded with their guns. Still, they occupied Nicholson’s Nek and fought to the bitter end, when, their ammunition having failed, they were compelled to surrender. On our side many were killed and wounded, and on the enemy’s, the losses were reported to have been exceptionally severe. But the Boers pressed on, and at length, after a few days of skirmishing and fighting, closely invested Ladysmith, and then marched on as far as Colenso and the River Tugela.
Then for days and days little was heard of the besieged garrison, save that they were continually bombarded by heavy guns, fired some five miles away, and to which the naval twelve-pounders and 4.7-inch guns replied, the latter having arrived with a naval brigade 500 strong just in the nick of time.
Once the Boers attempted an assault, during which they lost heavily. They were repulsed, and from that date, for many long weeks, they kept up a desultory bombardment, but never returned to the assault. And inside the camp the troops played football and polo, now and again varying the monotony of the siege by a gallant sortie, in which they destroyed more than one of the enemy’s guns. And thus we will leave them for a time, boldly holding their own, while we return to Jack Somerton.