Kitabı oku: «The Kopje Garrison: A Story of the Boer War», sayfa 13
Chapter Twenty.
All about it
The men forgot their thirst in the excitement of the incident, and as soon as Lennox showed signs of recovering a little from the state of exhaustion in which he lay, every one volunteered to be his bearer. But before he had been carried far he made signs for the men to stop, and upon being set down he took Dickenson’s arm, and, leaning upon him heavily, marched slowly with the men for the rest of the way towards the colonel’s quarters.
They were met, though, before they were half-way, their slow approach being seen and taken for a sign that there was something wrong; and colonel, major, doctor, and the other officers hurried to meet them and hear briefly what had occurred.
“Why, Lennox, my lad,” cried the doctor after a short examination, “you ought to be dead. You must be a tough one. There, I’ll see what I can do for you.”
He took the young officer in his charge from that moment, and his first order was that his patient was to be left entirely alone, and, after partaking of a little refreshment, he was to rest and sleep for as many hours as he could.
“The poor fellow has had a terrible shock,” he said to the colonel.
“Of course; but one naturally would like to know how he managed to escape.”
“Very naturally, my dear sir; but his eyes tell me that if his brain is not allowed to recover its tone he’ll have a bad attack of fever. A man can’t go through such an experience as that without being terribly weakened. I want him to be led into thinking of everything else but his escape. I dare say after a few hours he will be wanting to talk excitedly about all he felt; but he mustn’t. Not a question must be asked.”
As it happened, the patient did exactly what the doctor wished: he slept, or, rather, sank into a state of stupor which lasted for many hours, came to his senses again, partook of a little food, and then dropped asleep once more; and this was repeated for days before he thoroughly recovered, and then began of his own volition to speak of his experience.
It was about a week after his mishap, in the evening, when Dickenson, just returned from a skirmish in which the Boers had been driven back, was seated beside his rough couch watching him intently.
“Don’t sit staring at me like that, old fellow,” said Lennox suddenly. “You look as if you thought I was going to die.”
“Not you! You look a lot better to-night.”
“I am, I know.”
“How?” asked Dickenson laconically.
“Because I’ve begun to worry about not being on duty and helping.”
“Yes; that’s a good sign,” said Dickenson. “Capital. Feel stronger?”
“Yes. It’s just as if my strength has begun to come back all at once. Did you drive off the enemy to-day?”
“Famously. Gave them a regular licking.”
“That’s right. But tell me about Corporal May.”
“Oh no, you’re not to bother about that.”
“Tell me about Corporal May,” persisted Lennox.
“Doctor said you weren’t to worry about such things.”
“It isn’t a worry now. I felt at first that if I thought much about that business in the cave I should go off my head; but I’m quite cool and comfortable now. Tell me – is he quite well again?”
“Not quite. He has had a touch of fever and been a bit loose in the knob, just as if he had been frightened out of his wits.”
“Of course,” said Lennox quietly. “I was nearly the same. I did not know at the time, but I do now. He is getting better, though?”
“Fast; only he’s a bit of a humbug with it. I thought so, and the doctor endorses my ideas. He likes being ill and nursed and petted with the best food, so as to keep out of the hard work. I don’t like the fellow a bit. There, you’ve talked enough now, so I’ll be gone.”
“No; stop,” said Lennox. “Tell me about the stores of corn we found in that cave.”
“Hang the cave! You’re not to talk about it.”
“Tell me about the grain,” persisted Lennox.
“Oh, very well; we’re going on eating it, for if it hadn’t turned up as it did we should have been obliged to surrender or cut our way through.”
“But there’s plenty yet?”
“Oh yes, heaps; and we got about thirty sheep two days ago.”
“Capital,” said Lennox, rubbing his hands softly. “Now tell me – where is the grain stored?”
“Where the niggers put it when they collected it there.”
“Not moved?”
“No. It couldn’t be in a better place – a worse, I mean. Bother the cave! I wish you wouldn’t keep on thinking about it.”
“Very well, I won’t. Tell me about the prisoners.”
“Ah, that’s better. The brutes! But there’s nothing to tell about them. I wish they had got their deserts, but we none of us wanted to shoot them, though they did deserve it.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Lennox. “They’re a rough lot of countrymen, and they think that everything is fair in war, I suppose. Where are they?”
“Number 4 tin hut, and a fellow inside with them night and day. Then there’s the sentry outside. Makes a lot of trouble for the men.”
Lennox was silent for a few minutes before speaking again.
“I say, Bob.”
“Yes?”
“Look at this cut on my forehead.”
“I’m looking. Very pretty. It’s healing fast now.”
“Will it leave much of a scar?”
“I dare say it will,” said Dickenson mockingly. “Add to your beauty. But you ought to have one on the other side to match it.”
“I wasn’t thinking about my looks,” said Lennox, smiling.
“Gammon! You were.”
“I suppose I must have been dashed against a block of stone.”
“Good job, too. Doctor said it acted like a safety-valve, and its bleeding kept off fever.”
“I suppose so. I must have been dashed against something with great force, though.”
“Oh, never mind that. Will you leave off thinking about that cave?”
“No, I won’t,” said Lennox coolly. “I must think about it now; I can’t help it.”
“Then I’m off.”
“Why?”
“Because you were getting better, and now you are trying to make yourself worse.”
“Oh no, I’m not; and you are not going. Talking to you about it acts like a safety-valve, too. There, it’s of no use for you to try and stop me, Bob, for if you go I shall think all the more. I’ve been wanting to tell you all about it for days.”
“But the doctor said I was not to encourage you to talk about the horror.”
“Well, you are not encouraging me; you are flopping on me like a wet blanket. I say, it was horrible, wasn’t it?”
“No,” said Dickenson angrily; “but this is.”
Lennox was silent for a few minutes, and he lay so quiet that Dickenson leaned forward to gaze at him earnestly, “All right, Bob. I’m here, and getting awfully strong compared with what I was a week ago. I shall get up and come out to-morrow.”
“You won’t. You’re too weak yet.”
“Oh no, I’m not. I shall be on duty in two or three days, and as soon as I’m well enough I want you and the sergeant to come with me to have another exploration with lanterns and a rope.”
“There, I knew it. You’re going off your head again.”
“Not a bit of it.”
“Then why can’t you leave the wretched cave alone?”
“Because it interests me. I mean to go down again at the end of the rope.”
“Bah! You’re mad as a hatter. I knew you’d bring it on.”
“There, it’s of no use. I want to tell you all about it.”
“If you think I’m going to stop here and listen to a long rigmarole about that dreadful hole, you’re mistaken; so hold your tongue.”
“There’s no long rigmarole, Bob. You know how the corporal yelled out and clutched at me.”
“No; I only guessed at something of the kind,” replied Dickenson unwillingly. “We could not see much.”
“Well, in his horror at finding himself lifted he completely upset me. It was all in a moment: I felt myself gliding over the slimy stone, and then I was plunged into deep water and drawn right down.”
“But you struck out and tried to rise?” said Dickenson, overcome now by his natural eagerness to know how his comrade escaped.
“Struck out – tried to rise!” cried Lennox, with a bitter laugh. “I have some recollection of struggling in black strangling darkness for what seemed an age, the water thundering the while in my ears, before all was blank.”
“But you were horror-stricken, and felt that you must go on fighting for your life?”
“No,” said Lennox quietly. “I felt nothing till the darkness suddenly turned to bright sunshine, and I have some recollection of being driven against stones and tossed here and there, till I dragged myself out of a shallow place among the rocks and up amongst the green growth. Then a curious drowsy feeling came over me, and all was blank again. That’s all.”
“But weren’t you in agony – in horrible fear?”
“Yes, when I felt myself falling and tried to save myself.”
“I mean afterwards, when you were being forced through, that horrible passage.”
“What horrible passage?” said Lennox, with a faint smile.
“What horrible passage, man? Why, the tunnel, or channel, or whatever it is – the subterranean way of the stream under the kopje, in the bowels of the earth.”
“I told you I was horrified for a moment, and then I was choking in the water, till all seemed blank, and then I appeared to wake in the hot sunshine, where I was knocked about till I crawled out on to the bank.”
“But didn’t you suffer dreadfully?”
“No.”
“Didn’t you think about England and home, and all that?”
“No,” said Lennox quietly.
“Weren’t you in fearful agony as you fought for your life?”
“Not the slightest; and I don’t think I struggled much.”
“Well, upon my word!” cried Dickenson in a tone of disgust. “I like this!”
“Do you, Bob? I didn’t.”
“You didn’t? Look here, Drew, I’m disgusted with you.”
“Why?” said Lennox, opening his eyes wider.
“Because you’re a miserable impostor – a regular humbug.”
“What! don’t you believe I went through all that?”
“Oh yes, I believe you went through all the – all the – all the hole; but there don’t seem to have been anything else.”
“Why, what else did you expect, old fellow?”
“What I’ve been asking you – pains and agonies and frightful sufferings and despairs, and that sort of thing; and there you were, pop down into the darkness, pop under the kopje, pop out into the sunshine, and pop – no, I mean, all over.”
“Well, what would you have had me do? Stop underneath for a month?”
“No, of course not; but, hang it all! if it hadn’t been that you got that cut on your forehead and a few scratches and chips, it was no worse than taking a dive.”
“Not much,” said Lennox, looking amused.
“Well, I really call it disgusting – a miserable imposition upon your friends.”
“Why, Bob, you are talking in riddles, old fellow, or else my head’s so weak still that I can’t quite follow you.”
“Then I’ll try and make my meaning clear to your miserably weak comprehension, sir,” cried Dickenson, with mock ferocity. “Here were you just taking a bit of a dive, and there were we, your friends, from the captain down to the latest-joined private, suffering – oh! I can’t tell you what we suffered. I don’t mean to say that Roby was breaking his heart because he thought there was an end of you; but poor old Sergeant James nearly went mad with despair, and the whole party was ready to plunge in after you so as to get drowned too.”
“Did they take it like that, Bob?”
“Take it like that? Why, of course they did.”
Lennox was silent for a few moments before he said softly, “And did poor old Bob Dickenson feel something like that?”
“Why, of course he did. Broke down and made a regular fool of himself, just like a great silly-looking girl – that is,” he added hastily, “I mean, nearly – almost, you know.”
“I’m very sorry, Bob,” said Lennox gently, and his eyes looked large as he laid his hand upon his comrade’s sleeve.
“Then you don’t look it, sir. I say, don’t you go and pitch such a lame tale as this into anybody else’s ears. Here were we making a dead hero of you, and all the time – There, I’ve seen one of those little black and white Welsh birds – dippers, don’t they call ’em? – do what you did, scores of times.”
“In the dark, Bob?”
“Well – er – no – not in the dark, or of course I couldn’t have seen it. There, that’ll do. Talk about a set of fellows being sold by a lot of sentiment: we were that lot.”
“The way of the world, Bob,” said Lennox rather bitterly; “a fellow must die for people to find out that he’s a bit of a hero. But please to recollect I did nothing; it was all accident.”
“And an awfully bad accident too, old chap; only I don’t see why the doctor need have prohibited your talking about the affair. We’ve all been thinking you went through untold horrors, when it was just nothing.”
“Just nothing, Bob,” said Lennox, looking at him with a wistful smile on his lip.
“Well, no; I won’t say that, because of course it was as near as a toucher. For instance, the hole might have been too tight to let you through, and then – Ugh! Drew, old chap, don’t let us talk about it any more. It’s a hot day, and my face is wet with perspiration, but my spine feels as if it had turned to ice. Yes, it was as near as a toucher. I would rather drop into an ambush of the Boers a dozen times over than go through such a half-hour as that again.”
Chapter Twenty One.
Preparations
There was a splendid supply of corn in the great woven Kaffir baskets, and that and the captured flock of sheep did wonders; but there were many hungry mouths to feed, and the lookout was growing worse than ever. The Boers were fighting furiously all over the two states and keeping our men at bay, or else were flitting from place to place to be hunted down again, and keeping the British generals so busily at work that, though they tried hard, it was impossible to send help to the little detachment at Groenfontein, from which place they had received no news, neither were they able to get through a single despatch.
Many a long discussion took place amongst the soldiers about the state of affairs, in which Corporal May declared that it was a burning shame – that the generals only thought of saving their own skins, and didn’t care a fig for the poor fellows on duty fighting for their lives.
Sergeant James was present, and he flushed up into a rage and bullied the corporal in the way that a sergeant can bully when he is put out. He told the corporal that he was a disgrace to the army; and he told the men that as long as a British officer could move to the help of his men who were in peril, he didn’t care a snap of the fingers for his own life, but he moved.
Then it was the men’s turn, and they spoke all together and as loudly as they could; but they only said one word, and that one word was “Hooray!” repeated a great many times over, with the result that Corporal May was fully of opinion that the men put more faith in the sergeant than they did in him, and, to use one of the men’s expressions, “he sneaked off like a wet terrier with his tail between his legs.”
Discussions took place also among the officers again and again after their miserable starvation mess, which was once more, in spite of all efforts to supplement it, reduced to a very low ebb. For the brave colonel was Spartan-like in his ways.
“I can’t sit down to a better dinner than my brave lads are eating, gentlemen,” he would say. “It’s share and share alike with the Boers’ hard knocks, so it’s only fair that it should be the same with the good things of life.”
“Yes, that’s all very well, colonel,” grumbled the major; “but where are those good things?”
“Ah, where are they?” said the colonel. “Never mind; we shall win yet. The Boers have done their worst to crack this hard nut, and we’ve kept them at bay, which is almost as good as a victory.”
“But surely, sir,” said Captain Roby impatiently, “help might have been sent to us before now. Has the general forgotten us?”
“No,” said the colonel decisively. “I’m afraid that he has several detachments in the same condition as we are. That’s why we do not get any help.”
“Perhaps so, sir,” said the captain bitterly; “but I’m getting very tired of this inaction.”
“That sounds like a reproach to me, Roby,” said the colonel gravely.
“Oh no, sir; I didn’t mean that,” said the captain.
“Your words expressed it sir. Come now, speak out. What would you do if you were in my place, with three strong commandos of the Boers forming a triangle with a kopje at each apex which they hold with guns?”
“I don’t want to give an opinion, sir.”
“But every one wishes that you should. – Eh, gentlemen?”
“Certainly,” came in eager chorus.
“Well, if I must speak, I must, sir,” said the captain, flushing.
“Yes, speak without fear or favour.”
“Well, sir, all military history teaches us that generals with small armies, when surrounded by a greater force, have gained victories by attacking the enemy in detail.”
“Yes, I see what you mean,” said the colonel quietly. “You would have me attack and take first one kopje, then the second, and then the third?”
“Exactly, sir.”
“Capital strategy, Mr Roby, if it could be done; but I cannot recall any case in which a general was situated as we are, with three very strong natural forts close at hand.”
There was a murmur of assent, and Dickenson exchanged glances with Lennox, who was, with the exception of the scar on his forehead, none the worse for his terrible experience in the kopje cavern.
“You see, gentlemen,” continued the colonel, who did not display the slightest resentment at Roby’s remarks, “if the Boers were soldiers – men who could manoeuvre, attack, and carry entrenchments – they are so much stronger that they could have carried this place with ease. It would have meant severe loss, but in the end, if they had pushed matters to extremity, they must have won. As it is, they fight from cover – very easy work, when they have so many natural strongholds. I could take any of these; but while I was engaged with my men against one party, the other two would advance and take this place, with such stores as we have. Where should we be then?”
“Oh, but I’d leave half the men to defend the place, sir. Why, with a couple of companies, and a good time chosen for a surprise, I could take any of the enemy’s laagers.”
The colonel raised his eyebrows, and looked at the speaker curiously.
“You see, sir,” continued Roby, speaking in a peculiarly excited way, “the men, as an Irishman would say, are spoiling for a fight, and we are getting weaker and weaker. In another fortnight we shall be quite helpless.”
“I hope not, Mr Roby,” said the colonel dryly. “Perhaps you would like to try some such experiment with a couple of companies?”
“I should, sir,” cried the captain eagerly; and the other officers looked from one to the other wonderingly, and more wonderingly still when the colonel said calmly:
“Very well, Mr Roby. I will make my plans and observations as to which of the three laagers it would be more prudent to attack. If you do not succeed, you ought at least to be able to bring in some of the enemy’s cattle.”
That evening the colonel had a quiet council with the major, the latter being strongly opposed to the plan; but the colonel was firm.
“I do not expect much,” he said, “but it will be reading the Boers a lesson, even if he fails, and do our men good, for all this inaction is telling upon them, as I have been noticing, to my sorrow, during the past three or four days. To be frank with you, Robson, I have been maturing something of the kind.”
“But you will not give the command to Roby?” cried the major.
“Certainly not,” said the colonel emphatically. “You will take the lead.”
“Ha!” ejaculated the major.
“With Roby as second in command. I will talk with you after I have done a little scouting on my own account.”
Two days elapsed, and Captain Roby had been talking a good deal in a rather injudicious way about its being just what he expected. The colonel had been out both nights with as many men as he could mount – just a small scouting party – seen all that he could as soon as it was daylight, and returned soon after sunrise each time after a brush with the enemy, who had discovered the approach to their lines and followed the retiring party up till they came within reach of the gun, when a few shells sent them scampering back.
It was on the third night that Captain Roby sat talking to his greatest intimates, and he repeated his injudicious remarks so bitterly that Captain Edwards said severely, “I can’t sit here and listen to this, Roby. You must be off your head a little, and if you don’t mind you’ll be getting into serious trouble.”
“Trouble? What do you mean, sir?” cried Roby. “I feel it is my duty to speak.”
“And I feel it is not; and if I were Colonel Lindley I would not stand it.”
He had hardly spoken when there was the crack of a rifle, followed by another and another. The men turned out ready for anything, fully expecting that the Boers were making an attack; but Dickenson came hurrying to the colonel with the report of what had happened.
The two prisoners had been waiting their opportunity, and rising against the sentry who shared their corrugated iron prison, had snatched his bayonet from his side and struck him down, with just enough life left in him afterwards to relate what had happened. Then slipping out, they had tried to assassinate the sentry on duty, but failed, for he was too much on the alert. He had fired at them, but they had both escaped into the darkness, under cover of which, and with their thorough knowledge of the country, they managed to get right away.
“Just like Lindley,” said Roby contemptuous as soon as the alarm was over and the men had settled down again. “Any one but he would have made short work of those two fellows.”
He had hardly spoken when an orderly came to the door of the hut where he, Captain Edwards, and two more were talking, and announced that the colonel desired to speak with Captain Roby directly. The latter sprang up and darted a fierce look at Captain Edwards.
“You have lost no time in telling tales,” he said insolently.
“You are on the wrong track,” said the gentleman addressed, angrily. “I have not seen the colonel to speak to since, and I have sent no message.”
Roby turned on his heel wrathfully and went straight to the colonel’s quarters, to face him and the major, who was with him.
To his intense astonishment and delight, the colonel made the announcement that the south-west laager was to be attempted by surprise that night by a hundred and fifty men with the bayonet alone, the major in command, Captain Roby second, and Captain Edwards and the two subalterns of Roby’s company to complete the little force.
“When do we start, sir?” said Roby, with his heart beating fast.
“An hour before midnight,” said the colonel; and the major added:
“Without any sound of preparation. The men will assemble, and every precaution must be taken that not one of the blacks gets wind of the attempt so as to warn the enemy of our approach.”
“I have no more to add, Robson,” said the colonel. “You know where to make your advance. Take the place if you can without firing a shot, but of course, if fire should be necessary, use your own discretion.”
The whole business was done with the greatest absence of excitement. The three officers were warned at once; Captain Edwards looked delighted, but Dickenson began to demur.
“You are not fit to go, Drew,” he said.
“I never felt more fit,” was the reply, “and if you make any opposition you are no friend of mine.”
“Very well,” said Dickenson quietly; “but I feel that we’re going to have a sharp bit of business, and I can’t think that you are strong enough.”
“I’ve told you that I am,” said Lennox firmly. “The orders are that I go with the company, and the colonel would not send me if he did not know from his own opinion and the doctor’s report that I am fit to be with the ranks.”
There was a little whisper or two between Dickenson and Sergeant James.
“Oh, I don’t know, sir,” said the latter; “he has pulled round wonderfully during the last fortnight, and it isn’t as if we were going on a long exhausting march. Just about six or seven miles through level veldt, sir, and in the cool of the night.”
“Well, there is that,” said Dickenson thoughtfully.
“And a good rest afterwards, sir, so as to make the advance, so I hear, just at the Boers’ sleepiest time. Bah! It’ll be a mere nothing if we can only get through their lines quietly. They’ll never stand the bayonet; and I wouldn’t wish for a smarter officer to follow than Mr Lennox.”
“Nor a braver, James,” said Dickenson quietly.
“Nor a braver, sir.”
“If he is up to the mark for strength.”
“Let him alone for that, sir,” said the sergeant, with a chuckle. “I don’t say Mr Lennox will be first, but I do say he won’t be last; and the men’ll follow him anywhere, as you know, sir, well.”
“Yes,” said Dickenson, drawing a deep breath; “and it’s what we shall want to-night – a regular rush, and the bayonet home.”
“That’s it, sir; but I must go. The lads are half-mad with joy, and if I’m not handy we shall have them setting up a shout.”
But of course there was no shout, the men who, to their great disgust, were to stay and hold the camp bidding good-luck to their more fortunate comrades without a sound; while more than once, with the remembrance of the dastardly murder that had just taken place, men whispered to their comrades something about not to forget what the cowardly Boers had done.
Exact to the time, just an hour before midnight, and in profound darkness – for the moon had set but a short time before – the men, with shouldered rifles, set off with springy step, Dickenson and Lennox, to whom the country was well known from shooting and fishing excursions they had made, leading the party, not a word being uttered in the ranks, and the tramp, tramp of feet sounding light and elastic as the lads followed through the open, undulating plain, well clear of the bush, there being hardly a stone to pass till they were within a mile of the little kopje where the Boers’ laager lay.
There the broken country would begin, the land rising and being much encumbered with stones. But the place had been well surveyed by the major through his field-glass at daybreak two days before, and he had compared notes with Lennox, telling him what he had seen, and the young officer had drawn his attention to the presence of a patch of woodland that might be useful for a rallying-point should there be need. Captain Roby, too, had been well posted up; and after all that was necessary had been said, Lennox had joined his friend.
“Oh, we shall do it, Bob,” he said. “What I wonder is, that it was not tried long enough ago.”
“So do I,” was the reply. “But, I say, speak out frankly: do you feel up to the work?”
“I feel as light and active as if I were going to a football match,” was the reply.
“That’s right,” said Dickenson, with a sigh of relief.
“And you?”
“Just as if I were going to give the Boers a lesson and show them what a couple of light companies can do in a storming rush. There, save your breath for the use of your legs. Two hours’ march, two hours’ lie down, and then – ”
“Yes, Bob;” said Lennox, drawing a deep breath, and feeling for the first time that they were going on a very serious mission; “and then?”
And then there was nothing heard but the light tramp – tramp – tramp – tramp of a hundred and fifty men and their leaders, not one of whom felt the slightest doubt as to his returning safe.
