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Charge! A Story of Briton and Boer

by George Manville Fenn · English · Gutenberg #21302 · 641,318 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Charge! A Story of Briton and Boer

Author: George Manville Fenn

Illustrator: William H. C. Groome


        
Release date: May 4, 2007 [eBook #21302]

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/21302

Credits: Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHARGE! A STORY OF BRITON AND BOER ***




Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England





Charge!  A Story of Briton and Boer, by George Manville Fenn.

________________________________________________________________________

The earliest European settlers in South Africa were mostly Dutch.  They
were known as Boers, the Dutch word for farmer.  They were doing well,
and even though the British had come to rule the country, their
comfortable and profitable existence was all that most of them wanted.
However, an Irishman of the name of Moriarty thought otherwise, and
urged them to rebel against the British, simply because there is a class
of Irish people that enjoy fights, and the English are their nearest
neighbours, and Ireland was part of Great Britain.

Val Moray is the son of John Moray, who is farming in South Africa, and
he has a brother, Bob.  There is also a Kaffir worker on the farm, Joe,
or by his preference Joeboy.  Joeboy is a co-hero of the story.
Moriarty arrives with a few of the Boers and demands that Val be handed
over to him to go and fight the British.  Val has to go, but manages to
escape.  He gets to a place where his father has whispered to him would
be where Joeboy was to wait for him.  They meet up with a Light Horse
unit of the British army, where Val meets an old friend, Denham, and
they take part in various skirmishes against the Boers, in which they
are injured and captured, but manage to escape with the help of Bob and
John.

There is plenty of action, but one can't help feeling that the author
has bitten off more than he can chew, as these skirmishes in real life
became more than that, and the whole thing became a real, if pointless,
war.  NH

________________________________________________________________________

CHARGE!  A STORY OF BRITON AND BOER, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.



CHAPTER ONE.

HOME, SWEET HOME.

"Hi!  Val!  Come, quick!"

"What's the matter?"  I said excitedly, for my brother Bob came tearing
down to the enclosure, sending the long-legged young ostriches
scampering away towards the other side; and I knew directly that
something unusual must be on the way, or, after the warnings he had
received about not startling the wild young coveys, he would not have
dashed up like that.

"I dunno.  Father sent me to fetch you while he got the guns ready.  He
said something about mounted men on the other side of the kopje, so it
can't be Kaffirs.  I say, do back me up, Val, and get father to let me
have a gun."

"Ugh! you bloodthirsty young wretch!"  I cried as I started with him for
our place, now partly hidden by the orchard--apple and pear trees--I had
helped to plant seven years before, when father really pitched his tent
by the kopje, and he, Bob--a little, round-headed tot of a fellow then--
Aunt Jenny, and I lived in the canvas construction till we had built a
house of stone.

The orchard was planted long before the tent was given up--all trees
that father had ordered to be sent to us from a famous nursery in
Hertfordshire.  How well I remember it all!--the arrival of the four big
bundles wrapped in matting, and tied behind a great Cape wagon drawn by
twenty oxen, whose foreloper was a big, shiny black fellow, who wore a
tremendous straw hat, and seemed to think that was all he needed in the
way of clothes, as it was big enough to keep off the sun (of which there
was a great deal) and the rain (of which there was little).  In fact, he
wore scarcely anything else--only part of a very old pair of canvas
trousers, which he made comfortable and according to his taste by
cutting down at the top, so as to get rid of the waist, and tearing
close in the fork till the legs were about three inches long.

I remember it all so well: seeing the foreloper come striding along by
the foremost pair of oxen, holding one of them by its horn, and carrying
a long, thin pole like a very big fishing-rod over his shoulder, for use
instead of a whip to guide the oxen.  Yes, I recollect it as if it were
only yesterday.  I looked at him, and he looked at me.  My eyes were
fixed upon those trousers; and I burst out, boy-like, into the heartiest
fit of laughter I ever had.  As I laughed his eyes opened wider and
wider, and the corners of his mouth began to creep back farther and
farther till they nearly disappeared.  Then, suddenly, his mouth flew
open, showing a wonderfully white set of teeth, and he gave vent to
"Yer-her!  Yawk, yawk, yawk, yawk!  Yor-hor!"  Then he helped to outspan
the oxen, and I showed him and the man with the wagon where to find
water.  At every order I gave he opened his mouth and laughed at me; but
he eagerly did all I bade, and followed me back to the wagon to help in
unloading the bundles of trees, taking the greatest interest in
everything, and lifting the boxes and packages of stores which had come
with the trees, no matter what their weight, as if he enjoyed putting
forth his tremendous strength.

"Well, Val," said my father as he took out his big knife to cut the
string, and then carefully unlaced it--for string was precious out in
the desert--"I thought I'd chance a few; but it's quite a spec, and I'm
afraid they'll be all dried up.  However, we'll try them; and now they
are here we must get them in at once.  Mind, I shall look to you to make
them grow if they are still alive."

"How am I to make them grow, father?"  I said.

"With water, my boy.  You must bring down buckets from the spring till
we have time to dig a channel; and then they'll shift for themselves.  I
hope they'll grow, for it will be pleasant for you and Bob to sit under
them sometimes and eat apples and pears such as your father used to have
in his old orchard at home."

"Yes, father," I said; "and for you too."

"Perhaps, my boy; perhaps," he said, with a sigh.  "We shall see.--Here,
Jenny!"

My aunt was already at the door, in her print sun-bonnet, and looking
very cross, I thought.

"Yes," she said.

"Give these two men a good hearty meal; I dare say they're pretty
hungry."

"It's all ready, John," she said.

"That's right, my dear," said my father; and then, as if to himself, "I
might have known."  Turning to the short, thick-set Dutch Boer in charge
of the wagon, father told him to go to the big wagon-sheet supported on
poles, which we used for a dining-room, and then clapped the big black
on the shoulder, bidding him go too.

"Get two spades, Val," he said as soon as the men were gone; "and you,
Bob, come off that bundle of trees.  It wasn't sent all these thousands
of miles by ship and wagon to make you a horse."

I fetched the spades while my father went on unpacking the little trees,
Bob being set to help by unlacing the string from the pleasant-smelling
Russian mats.  Before the new arrivals were cast loose, the big black,
with a tremendous sandwich of bread and bacon, had joined us, and showed
at once that he meant to help.  After taking a big bite, he put his
sandwich down while he carried trees to the places where they were to be
planted, and after putting them down, returned for another bite, giving
me a grin every time.

Then the spades were taken up; and by that time the Boer had eaten and
drunk as much as he could, and gone to sit on the big chest in front of
the wagon, where he filled his pipe and began to smoke, never offering
to help, but watching us with his eyes half-closed.

"Here, steady, nigger!" said my father, smiling; "we're not going to
bury bullocks.  Little holes like this just where I put in these pegs.--
You keep him in hand, Val.  I never saw such a strong fellow before."

The great black fellow grinned and dug away, making the rich and soft
dry earth fly as he turned it out; while he laughed with delight every
time I checked him, and followed me to another place.

By that time he had finished his sandwich, and a thought occurred to me.

"Here, Bob," I said; "put down those pegs"--for he was marching about
with us, looking very serious, with the bundle of pegs under his arm.
"Go and ask Aunt Jenny to cut another big bit of bread and a very large
slice of bacon, and bring 'em here."

Bob ran off, and the big black looked at me, threw back his head, and
laughed, and laughed again, as he drove the spade deeply into the rich
loamy soil; and when the bread and bacon came he laughed, and bit with
those great white teeth of his, and munched and chewed like the
lying-down oxen, and dug and dug, till my father said, "No more
to-night," and bade me carry in the spades.

That night, before going to bed, tired, but happy with the thoughts of
our orchard to come, I walked with father beneath the great stars, going
round the place--father with his rifle over his shoulder--to see if all
was safe.

We went straight to the wagon, to find the oxen all lying down chewing
their cud, and from under the tilt there came a deep, heavy snore; but
there was also a rustling sound, a big black head popped out, and the
man said, in a deep, thick voice:

"Boss, hear lion?"

"No," said my father sharply.  "Did you, boy?"

"Iss.  _Oom!  Wawk, wawk, wawk_.  Boss, lissum."

We stood there in the silence, and for a full minute I could hear
nothing but the deep snore of the Boer and chewing of the oxen.  Then,
distinctly heard, but evidently at a great distance, there was the
tremendous barking roar of a lion, and my father uttered a deep "Ha!"

"Boss shoot lion," said the black in a quiet, contented way; and from
out of the darkness beneath the great wagon came the sound of the
foreloper settling himself down once more to sleep.  I remember
wondering whether he had anything to cover himself, for the night was
fresh and cold.  I asked my father.

"Yes; I saw him with a sheepskin over his shoulders.  He won't hurt."

We were interrupted by no lion that night, and at the first dawn of day
we were out with the spades again; our black visitor, under my
direction, digging the holes for the trees, while father planted, and
Bob held the stems straight upright till their roots were all nicely
spread out, and soil carefully placed amongst them, and trampled firmly
in.

This went on till breakfast-time, when Aunt Jenny called us, and the
Dutchman came and sat with us, while the great Kaffir carried his
portion away, and sat under the wagon to munch.

After the meal the Boer lit his pipe, sat down on a piece of rock, and
smoked and looked on till midday, by which time the fruit-trees were all
planted, and the big Kaffir had trotted to and fro with a couple of
buckets, bringing water to fill up the saucer-like depressions placed
about each tree.  Then Aunt Jenny called us to dinner, and after that
the Boer said it was time to inspan and begin the journey back.

Oh, how well I remember it all!--seeing my father opening a wash-leather
bag and paying the Boer the sum that had been agreed upon, and that he
wasn't satisfied, but asked for another dollar for the work done by his
man.  Then father laughed and said he ought to charge for the meals that
had been eaten; but he gave the Boer the money all the same; and Aunt
Jenny uttered a deep grunt, and said afterwards in her old-fashioned
way, "Oh John, what a foolish boy you are!"  Then he kissed her and
said, "Yes, Jen.  I always was.  You didn't half-teach me when I was
young."

This was after we had watched the wagon grow smaller and smaller in the
distance on its way back, and after the great black had stood and looked
down at me and laughed in his big, noisy way.

Then once more we were alone in the great desert, father looking proudly
down at his little orchard, and Bob walking up and down touching every
tree, and counting them over again.

"Begins to look homely now, Val," he said; "but we must work, boy--
work."

We did work hard to make that place the home it grew to.

"It's for you, boys," he said, "when I'm dead and gone;" and it was
about that time I began to think and understand more fully how father
was doing it all for the sake of us boys, and to try and ease his
heart-ache.  Aunt Jenny set me thinking by her words, and at last I
fully grasped how it all was.

"I believe he'd have died broken-hearted, Val," she said to me, "if I
hadn't come to him.  It was after your poor dear mother passed away.  I
told him he was not acting like a man and a father to give up like that,
and it roused him; and one day--you remember, it was when I had come to
keep house for him--he turned to me and said, `I shall never be happy in
England again; and I've been thinking it would be a good thing to take
those boys out to the Cape and settle there.  They'll grow up well and
strong in the new land, and I shall try to make a home for them yonder.'
`Yes, John,' I said, `that's the very thing you ought to do.'  `Ah,' he
said, `but it means leaving you behind, Jenny, dear, and you'll perhaps
never set eyes upon them again.'  `Oh, yes, I shall, John,' I said, `for
I've come to stay.'  `What!' he cried; `would you go with us, sis?'
`Yes,' I said, `to the very end of the world.'  So we came here, Val,
where there's plenty of room, and no neighbours to find fault with our
ways."

That's how it was; and now I can admire and think of how Aunt Jenny, the
prim maiden lady, gave up all her own old ways to set to and work and
drudge for us all, living in a wagon and then in a tent, and smiling
pleasantly at the trees we planted, and bringing us lunch where we were
working away, dragging down stones for the house which progressed so
slowly, though father's ideas wore modest.

"For," said he, "we'll build one big stone room, Val, and make it into
two with part of the tent.  Then by-and-by we'll build another room
against it, and then another and another till we get it into a house."

Yes, it was hard work getting the stones, and we were busy enough one
day in the hot sunshine, about a month after the wagon had been with the
trees and stores, when Bob suddenly stood shading his eyes, and cried:

"Some one's coming!"

We looked up, and there, far in the distance, I saw a black figure
striding along under a great, broad matting-hat.

"Why, it looks like that great Kaffir, father," I said.

"Nonsense, boy," he replied; "the Kaffirs all look alike at a distance."

"But it is, father," I cried excitedly.  "Look; he's waving his big hat
because he sees us."  I waved mine in answer; and directly after he
began to run, coming up laughing merrily, and ending by throwing down
three assagais and the bundle he carried, as he cried:

"Come back, boss."

We gave him something to eat, and the next minute he was lifting and
carrying stones, working like a slave; and at night he told me in his
way that he was going to stop along with old boss and young boss and
little boss and old gal, and never go away no more.



CHAPTER TWO.

OUR UGLY VISITOR.

The black fellow's arrival at such a time was most welcome; but my
father put no faith in his declaration.

"They're all alike, Val," he said.  "He's a quick worker, and as willing
and good-tempered as a man can be; but he'll only stay with us till he
has earned wages enough to buy himself some bright-coloured blankets and
handkerchiefs, and then he'll be off back to his tribe."

"Think so, father?"  I said.  "He seems to like us all here.  He says
it's better than being with the Boers.  He always says he means to
stay."

"He does mean it, of course," said my father; "but these black fellows
are like big children, and are easily led away by some new attraction.
We shall wake up some morning and find him gone."

But seven years glided away, during which apprenticeshiplike time
Joeboy, as we called him--for he would not be content with Joe when he
had heard the "boy" after it once or twice, "Joeboy" quite taking his
fancy--worked for us constantly, and became the most useful of fellows
upon our farm, ready to do anything and do it well, as his strength
became tempered with education.  In fact, it grew to be a favourite
saying with my father, "I don't know what we should have done without
Joeboy."

One of the first persons I saw that morning, when I trotted towards the
house after being called by my brother, was the great black hurrying out
to meet us; and as we got closer it was to see his face puckered up and
his eyes flashing, as he said to me hoarsely:

"Won't go, Boss Val; won't go.  You tell the Boss I've run up into the
hills.  Won't go."

"Here, what do you mean?"  I said.

"Boss Boers come to fetch up go and fight.  Won't go."

"Nonsense," I said.  "I dare say they've only come to buy bullocks."

"No," said the black, shaking his head fiercely.  "Come to fetch
Joeboy."

"Here, don't run away."

"On'y go up in kopje," he said.  "Hide dar."

He rushed away, and I was sure I knew where he would hide himself.  Then
I walked on with my brother, to find my father and Aunt Jenny by the
door.

"What's it all about, father?"  I asked.

"I don't know yet, my boy; but we soon shall.  There's about a score of
the Boers, well mounted and armed.  Yonder they are, coming at a walk.
There were only twelve; but another party have caught up to them, and
maybe there are more."

"Joeboy has run off in a fright," I said.  "He thinks they've come to
fetch him."

"Oh no; it isn't that, my boy," said my father.  "I fear it's something
worse."

"What?"  I said wonderingly.



CHAPTER THREE.

MY FIRST REAL TROUBLE.

Before my father could reply a body of horsemen cantered up, every man
well mounted, rifle in hand, and carrying a cross-belt over his left
shoulder fitted with cartridges, bandolier fashion.  Their leader, a
big, heavily-bearded, fierce-looking fellow, dropped from his saddle,
threw the rein to one of his companions, and then swaggered up to us,
scanning us with his eyes half-closed, and with a haughty, contemptuous
expression in his countenance.

"Ye're John Moray, I suppose?" he said, turning to my father, after
looking me up and down in a way I, a hot-blooded and independent lad of
eighteen, did not at all like.

"Yes," said my father quietly, "I'm John Moray.  Do you want some
refreshment for your men and horses?"

"Yes, of course," said our visitor; and I wondered why such a
big-bearded, broad-shouldered fellow should speak in so high-pitched a
tone.  That he was Irish he proved directly; but that excited no
surprise, for we were accustomed to offer hospitality to men of various
nationalities from time to time--Scots, Finns, Germans, Swedes, and
Norwegians--trekking up-country in search of a place to settle on.

"Will you dismount and tie up, then?" said my father; "and we'll see
what we can do.--Val, my lad, you will see to the horses having a feed?"

"Yes, father," was on my lips, when the Irish leader turned upon me
sharply with:

"Oh, ye're Val--are ye?"

"Yes," I said, rather sharply, for the man's aggressive manner nettled
me; "my name is Valentine."

"And is it, now?" he said, with a mocking laugh.  "Ye're a penny plain
and tuppence coloured, I suppose?  Coloured, bedad!  Look at his face!"

"I don't see the joke," I said sharply.

"Don't ye, now?  Then ye soon will, my fine chap.  Let's see, now; how
old are ye?"

I made no reply, and my father replied gravely:

"My son is eighteen."

"Is he, now?  And ye're forty, I suppose?"

"I am sorry to say I am over fifty," replied my father, as I stood
chafing at the man's insolent, bullying tone.

"Then ye don't look it, sor.  But there, we'll leave ye alone for a bit.
I dare say we can do without ye this time, and take the bhoy."

"What for--where?" said my father quickly.

"What for--where?" cried the man.  "For the commando, of course."

"The commando?" said my father, while I felt staggered, only
half-grasping the import of his words.

"Yes, sor, the commando.  D'ye suppose ye are to have the protection of
the State, and do nothing again' your counthry's inimies?  If ye do
ye're greatly mistaken.  Every man must take his turn to difind the
counthry, and ye may feel preciously contented that ye don't have to
join yerself."

"But I have heard of no rising," said my father, looking at me
anxiously.  "The blacks all about here are peaceable and friendly."

"Not the blackest blacks, sor," said the man, drawing himself up and
raising one hand and his voice in an oratorical way; "the blacks I mane
are white-skinned, but black in the heart through and through; the
blacks who are the dispisers of progress, the foes of freedom, the
inimies of the counthry, sor--the despicable, insolent Saxons."

"Do you mean the English?" said my father coolly.

"I do that, sor," said the man defiantly; "and the day has dawned at
last when the down-thrampled Boers are goin' to give them a lesson that
shall make the British lion snaik out of this counthry with his tail
between his legs like a beaten dog."

"You are a British subject, sir," said my father.

"Mahn, I scorrun it," cried our visitor.  "I have thrown off all fealty
years ago, and am a free Irishman, and captain of the body of brave men
who are going to dhrive the tyranny of England out of this colony for
ever."

"This is all news to me, sir," said my father coldly.

"Is it, sor?" said our visitor mockingly.  "Then I'm proud to be the
bearer of the great news."

"Do you mean to tell me, then," said my father, "that there is war
declared by England against the Boers?"

"No, sor," cried the fellow insolently; "but I tell you that we have
declared war again' the brutal Saxon."

"We, sir?" said my father gravely.  "But you are one of the Queen's
servants--an Irishman."

"Nothing of the sort, sor.  I disown England; I disowned her when I came
out here to throw meself into the arrums of the brave, suffering,
pathriotic race around me, and placed my sword at their service."

"Then you are a soldier, I presume?" said my father.

"I was tin years in the arrmy, sor," said our visitor, drawing himself
up and clapping his hand upon his chest.  "Look at thim," he continued,
pointing to his followers drawn up in line.  "A part of my following,
and as fine irrigular cavalry as ever threw leg over saddle.--Look here,
young man, ye're in luck, for ye'll have the honour of serving in
Captain Eustace Moriarty's troop."

"You are Captain Eustace Moriarty?" said my father.

"I am, sor."

"Then I must tell you, sir," said my father, "that though I have taken
up land here and made it my home, I claim my rights as an Englishman not
to make myself a traitor by taking up arms against my Queen."

"A thraitor!" cried the captain.  "Bah!  That for the Queen;" and he
snapped his fingers.  "But ye're not asked to serve now.  That can wait
till ye're wanted.  It's the bhoy we want, and maybe after a bit it'll
be you."

"My son thinks as I do," said my father sternly.

"Does he, now?" said the captain mockingly.  "Then I shall have to
tache him to think as I do, and it won't take long.  D'ye hear me,
bhoy?"

"I hear what you say, sir," I replied.  "Of course I think as my father
does, and I refuse to serve against England."

"I expected it," said the man, with cool insolence.  "It's what I
expected from a young Saxon.  But look here, me bhoy; ye've got to
serrve whether ye like it or whether ye don't.  What's more, ye've got
to come at once.  So get yer horse, and clap the saddle on.  Fetch him
his rifle and his cartridge-bolt, and let there be no more nonsense."

"You heard what my son said, sir," said my father haughtily.  "If it
were against a black enemy of the country we should both be willing."

"Didn't I tell ye it was again' a black inimy?" said the man mockingly.

"I heard you insult the Queen and her Government, sir," said my father;
"and, once more, my son refuses to serve."

"The coward!--the white-livered cub!" cried the captain contemptuously.

"What!"  I cried, springing forward; but my father flung his hand across
my chest, and Bob rushed in past Aunt Jenny, as if to take refuge from
the scene.

"Quite right, old man," said the captain, coolly stroking his beard.
"And look here, bhoy whether ye like it or not, ye're a sojer now; I'm
yer shuperior officer, and it's time of war.  If a man strikes his
shuperior officer, he's stood up with a handkerchief tied across his
eyes to prevent him from winking and spoiling the men's aim, and then
the firing-party does the rest."

As he spoke he made a sign, and half-a-dozen of the mounted Boers rode
up.

"Sargint," he said, "the young colt's a bit fractious.  Ye'll take him
in hand.  Fasten his hands behind him ready.  Two of ye go round to the
pen there and pick out the most likely horse, saddle and bridle him, and
bring him here.  Ye've got some green-leather thongs.  Then put him upon
the horse with his face to the tail, and tie his ankles underneath.
It'll be a fine lesson for the bhoy in rough-riding."

The men were quick enough.  Before I had even thought of trying to make
my escape, two of the Boers were off their horses and made me their
prisoner, while the rest of the little troop rode closer up and
surrounded us.

Then other two of the men rode off behind the house, and I stood
breathing hard, biting my lips, and feeling as if something hot was
burning my chest as I tried hard to catch my father's averted eyes.

Just then the Irish renegade captain burst into a hearty laugh, and I
wrenched myself round to look, and felt better.  A minute before, I had
seen Bob disappear into the house, and had mentally denounced him as a
miserable little coward; but my eyes flashed now as I saw him hurry out
with three rifles over his right shoulder, a bandolier belt across his
left, and two more, well filled with cartridges, hanging to the barrels
of the rifles.

"Bedad!" said the captain, "and he's worth fifty of his big, hulking
brother!  But ye're too shmall, darlint.  Wait a year or two longer, and
ye shall fight under me like a man."

Bob made a rush for father; but one of the Boers leaned down and caught
him by the shoulder, while another snatched the rifles from his hands,
and laid them across the pommel of the saddle in which he sat.

"Give up, Bob; give up," cried father sternly, as my brother began to
struggle with all his might.  "It is no use to fight against fate."

"Hear him now," said the captain.  "He can talk sinse at times."

"Yes," said my father, "at times;" and he gave the captain a look which
made him turn away his eyes.--"Val, my boy, I cannot have you exposed to
the ignominy of being bound."

"Sure, no," cried the captain.  "I forgot to say a wurrud about
stirrup-leathers across his back if he didn't behave himself."

"Fate is against us for the present, my boy," continued my father, "and
you must ride with this party till I have applied to the proper quarters
to get the matter righted."

"Now, man, be aloive," said the captain, and I winced and looked vainly
round for a way of escape; but I was seized by the wrist by another
dismounted Boer, who slipped a raw-hide noose over my wrist, just as two
more came riding back, leading my own horse, Sandho, between them.  The
poor beast, who followed me like a dog, uttered a shrill neigh as soon
as he caught sight of me, springing forward to reach my side.

"Stop!" cried my father loudly; "there is no need for that.  My son will
ride with you, sir."

"Indade, sir, I'm obleeged to ye for the inforrmation," said the captain
mockingly; "but sure it's a work of shupererrogation, me dear friend,
for I knew it, and that he was going to ride backward.  If, however, he
gives up sinsibly, he may ride with his back to the horse's tail, and ye
needn't tie his ankles togither.  Have ye ever ridden that horse
before?"

"He has ridden it hundreds of times, ever since it was a foal," said my
father quickly, for I felt choked.--"Stop, man," he added angrily; "your
captain said my son was not to be bound."

"Sure I didn't say a wurrud about his wrists, old man," cried the
captain contemptuously.  "Ye want too much.  I've let him off about the
ankles, and let him ride face forward, so be contint.  Make his wrists
fast behind him."

I was compelled to resign myself to my fate, and stood fighting hard to
keep down all emotion while my wrists were secured firmly behind my
back, the thin raw-hide cutting painfully into the flesh.

By this time Sandho was bridled and saddled, and just then my father
turned to Bob.

"Take in those rifles, my boy," he said.

The captain turned sharply and gave my father a searching look; but he
contented himself with nodding, and my brother snatched the rifles from
where they lay across the Boer's knees, and rushed indoors with them.

I knew well enough why, poor fellow: it was to hide the tears struggling
to rise, and of which he was ashamed.

Just then I had harder work than ever to control my own feelings, for
Aunt Jenny hurried towards me, but was kept back by my captors; and I
saw her go to my father and throw her arms about his neck, while he bent
over her and seemed to be trying to whisper comfort.

"There, up with ye, me bhoy," cried the captain.  "Ye can't mount,
though, with yer hands behind yer like a prishner.--Lift him on, two of
ye, like a sack."

"That they shan't," I said between my teeth; and feeling now that what
was to como was inevitable, I took a couple of steps to my horse's side.

"Stand!"  I said aloud as I raised one foot to the stirrup; and Sandho
stood as rigid as if of bronze, while I made a spring, raised myself up,
and threw my leg over.

"Well done, bhoy!" cried the captain as I sank into the saddle.--"You,
Hooger, take his rein.  Unfasten one end from the bit so as to give ye
double length, and ye'd better buckle it to your saddle-bow.--Now look
here, me fine fellow," he continued, addressing me, "ye'll give me none
of your nawnsense; for, look ye, my bhoys are all practised shots with
the rifle.  They can bring down a spring-bok going at full speed, so
they can easily bring ye down and yer nag too.  There's twenty of them,
and I'm a good shot meself, so ye know what to expect if ye thry to
escape."

I said nothing, for I was thinking with agony about poor Aunt Jenny, who
was now coming up to me, and the captain laughed as he saw her
pain-wrung countenance.

"Good-bye, Val, my boy," said my father slowly; "and bear up like a
man."

That was all, and he turned away.

The next moment Bob was clinging to my arm.

"O Val!  O Val!  O Val!" he cried in a choking voice, and then he
dropped back, poor boy, for he could say no more.

"Be sharp there and get it done, me bhoy," said the captain.  "Ye can
say good-bye to the owld woman; but lave the cat and the dogs till ye
come back."

"Are you going to march at once?" said my father as Aunt Jenny came to
my side, and I gripped my saddle and bent down for her to put her arms
round my neck.

"Sor, ye see that I am," said the captain.

"But you and your men will take something to eat and drink?"

"Something to send them asleep?" said the captain suspiciously.  "I'm
thinkin' they can last till we get back to Drak Pass, where there's a
shtore.  I'm obleeged to ye all the same.--There, that'll do, owld lady.
I'll make a man of the bhoy, and send him back safe and sound, if some
of the raw recruits of the brutal Saxons don't shoot him."

"Good-bye, then.  God bless you and protect you, Val!" said Aunt Jenny,
with a sob, as she loosened her grip of my neck, and I straightened
myself up, feeling my heart swell and the blood bound in my veins, for
while my father kept the captain in converse, she, with quivering lips,
had breathed words of hope into my ear.

"Listen, Val," she said.  "Your father bids me say that you are to watch
for your chance, and then make a dash for your liberty.  Gallop to Echo
Nek, and you will find Joeboy waiting there with a rifle and cartridges.
But you must not come back here.  Joeboy will bring a letter."

My heart was bounding with hope, and I felt ready for anything just
then, as the captain gave the orders "Mount!" and then "Forward!"  But
the next minute my spirits sank into the darkness of misery.  For what
had Aunt Jenny said?  Joeboy would be waiting at Echo Nek with a rifle
and cartridges.  Yes; but poor Joeboy had taken flight at the appearance
of the Boers, and fled for his liberty, in the belief that they had come
for him.



CHAPTER FOUR.

WAITING FOR MY CHANCE.

I rode on painfully as regarded my wrists; for above them my arms
throbbed and burned as if the veins were distended almost to
bursting-point, while my hands grew gradually cold and numb, and then
became insensible as so much lead.  The physical pain, however, was
nothing to what I felt mentally.  Only an hour or two before I was
leading that calm, happy home-life, without a trouble beyond some petty
disappointment in the garden or farm or during one of the hunting or
shooting expeditions with Joeboy to carry my game; and now a
lightning-like stroke seemed to have descended to end my idyllic
boy-life and make me a man full of suffering, and with a future which I
abhorred.

"No," I argued, "I must escape, even if they do send a shower of bullets
to bring me down."  I did not believe much in the vaunted powers of the
Boers with the rifle.  I knew that they could shoot well, but no better
than my father and his two pupils, meaning Bob and myself; and I felt
that we should have been very doubtful about bringing down a man going
at full gallop, even in the brightest daylight; and I meant to make my
venture in the dusk of the evening or after dark if only my captors
would continue their journey then.  Once well started, and my rein free
of the man who held it buckled to his saddle-bow, I had no fear at all,
for I was sure that in a straight race there was not a Boer amongst them
who could overtake me, they being heavy, middle-aged men, while I was
young and light, quite at home in the saddle, and Sandho as much at home
with me, upon his back.  Arms?  I could do without them.  Reins?  I
needed none, if only free of the one which held me to my left-hand
guard; for an extra pressure of either leg would send my beautiful
little Australian horse in the direction I wished to turn, while a word
of encouragement would send him on like the wind, and an order sharply
uttered check him even if at full speed.

I had had Sandho four years, mounting him as soon as he was strong
enough to bear me, and ever since we seemed to have been companions more
than master and servant.  We had played together; I had hunted him, and
he had hunted me--finding me, too, when I hid from him; and he answered
when out grazing on the veldt with a cheery neigh before galloping to
meet me.  Why, there had been times when we had both lain down to sleep
together on the distant plains, my head resting on his glossy neck; so,
now that he was bearing me along, comparatively helpless, and I felt his
elastic, springy form beneath me, I was ashamed of my despair, convinced
that if I gave the word he would snap that rein at the first bound, and
bear me safely away.

I made up my mind that if I could defer my attempt till it was dark I
should be safe.  If, however, I were obliged to venture in daylight, I
would make my dash by some rocky pass or kopje on the way, where Sandho
would easily leave the Boers' horses behind, he being almost as
sure-footed as a goat.

The captain drew rein a little, so that I came alongside during the
first part of our ride, and he cast his eye over my bonds and gave the
Boer who had the leading-rein a sharp order or two about keeping a good
lookout.  To this the dull, heavy fellow responded with a surly growl.
After this the Irishman banteringly asked me if I was comfortable.

My answer was an angry glare--at least, I meant it to be--but the only
effect was to make him laugh.

"Ye've got a bad seat in the saddle, and it will be a good lesson to ye
in riding, bhoy.  Make ye sit up.  I hate to see a military man with his
showlders up and his nose down close to his charrger's mane.  Faith, I'm
half-disposed to make ye throw the stirrups over the nag's neck, and I
would if we'd toime.  But we've none to spare for picking ye up when ye
came off.--Here," he cried to the two men next behind, for we now rode
two and two; "why are your carbines not full-cocked--rifles, I mane?
That's right.  Fire at wanst if he tries to bowlt; don't wait for
ordhers."

I listened to the sharp clicking of the rifle-locks as the men cocked
their pieces; but somehow I did not feel scared, for a feeling of
desperation was upon me, and I was strung-up to dare anything to get my
liberty; and, besides, my father's orders were that I should make a
dash.

"They can't hit me," I said to myself; and wherever the track was fair
going we went on at a canter, drawing rein wherever the ground grew bad.
At these latter times the captain began talking loudly in a
highly-pitched and half-contemptuous way to the leading men; and when
his words reached my ears I made out that his subject was either about
military evolutions and a man's bearing in the saddle, or else, in a
harsh and bitter tone, about the brutal Saxon who was at last going to
receive his dues for his long years of evil-doing and tyranny towards
the oppressed.  Hearing such talk, I rode on half-wondering what England
had been doing towards the Irish at home and the Boers abroad, for this
was all news to me, and I had never noticed among the Dutch settlers on
the veldt anything but a stolid kind of contentment with their
prosperous lot; there not being a single case of poverty, as far as I
knew, within a hundred miles of our pleasant home.

At the thought of home a strange swelling came in my throat, and the
wide, open veldt before me looked dim as I pictured all I had left
behind; for, happy as had been the life I led, and lovely as everything
around had always seemed, home had never seemed so beautiful as now.
However, I set my teeth hard, knit my brows, and with an effort seemed
to swallow down that swelling lump in my throat, at the same time
nipping Sandho's sides so sharply that he gathered himself up to bound
off; but he was checked by a savage snatch at the rein, and received a
blow with the barrel of my escort's rifle, as the surly and scowling
brute beside me growled out a fierce oath in Dutch.

The plunge Sandho gave nearly unseated me, and in another moment he
would have been rearing and kicking to get free; but a few gentle words
from my lips soothed the poor beast down, and he settled into his canter
once more, while I fell to wondering whether my poor horse could think
and would understand that the brutal treatment did not come from his
master.

On and on we rode over ground familiar to me, for many a long journey
from home had I been in every direction--hunting, shooting, or with our
wagon and oxen and Joeboy as foreloper, on journeys of many days through
the wilderness, to fetch stores for home use or to dispose of game or
stock.  So beautiful it all seemed; now it was so wretched for me to
leave it all, and to be forced to go and fight against my brothers, so
to speak, in a cause that I felt I must hate.  As I rode on, thinking
thus, I could see that there was no such oppression and tyranny as the
Irish captain spoke of; nothing but a bitter and contemptible
race-hatred, fostered by idle and discontented men.

"But I shan't have to fight," I said to myself.  "They talk about
freedom, and drag me away as a slave; but I too mean to be free."

From that moment the gloomy lookout ahead seemed to pass away, the veldt
seeming glorious in the afternoon sunshine; and, cantering through the
invigorating air, I could have enjoyed my ride but for the constrained
position in which I sat, and the dull pain in my arms and shoulders.  I
tried to forget this, and listened to the captain's words, for he grew
more and more loquacious.  I gathered that he reckoned upon picking up
other two young fellows of my own stamp at the farm twenty miles from
ours; and I noted that, no matter what he said, his words were listened
to in gloomy silence or received with grunting monosyllables, while the
Boers talked among themselves only about home and farming work or the
sale of stock.  More than once, too, I heard one of the men near me
wonder how the housewife would be getting on with the beasts and sheep.
The words were spoken in Boer Dutch; but in the course of years I had
become pretty well acquainted with the expressions of ordinary life.
Thus it seemed as if the men were anything but contented followers of
their noisy, vapouring leader.

At last the farm was reached, and we halted for refreshment, spending
about half-an-hour to water and feed the horses, during which time I was
carefully guarded.  There was no opposition here.  The two recruits to
the commando, as they termed it, had been duly served with notice, and
within the time named they were ready with their horses, and armed; but
when we made our start I could see with what surly unwillingness they
took their places in the rank, and noticed too that they were nearly as
strictly watched as I was.  In fact, I saw them exchange glances after
receiving a bullying order from Moriarty, and felt that it would not
have taken much to cause a display of temper on the part of the
recruits.

That, however, by the way: my thoughts were too much taken up with my
own position to pay much heed to the two young Boers; for when we were
once more on our route for our next stopping-place, where we were to
halt for the night, I felt that the time was rapidly approaching when I
must make my escape.  I did not say to myself _try_ to make my escape,
but to make it; for I had no fear of being unsuccessful.  The night was
coming on fast, and I knew that there was no moon, which was all in my
favour; and, once free, all I had to do was to make straight for home--a
ride of perhaps thirty miles through the wild country, keeping away from
the track, and with nothing to fear.  Yes, there wore the lions,
plentiful enough in the wilder parts; but the thought of them did not
damp me, for Sandho would soon give me warning if any were near, and
carry me well out of danger.

Then there was the next day.  I was to make for Echo Nek, and there,
meet Joeboy, who would bear my father's instructions; but would Joeboy
be there?  My heart sank a little at the thought of how doubtful this
was; but I soon cheered up again.  At the worst it meant waiting a day
or two, for I should not venture, home.  The Boers would ride back--of
that I felt sure; then, thinking I should certainly seek for refuge with
my people, they would scour the country in search of me, and they might
search Echo Nek, though it was ten miles away.

"Never mind," I said to myself cheerily enough; "that all belongs to
what _may be_: let's think only of _will be_;" and I rode on, scanning
the track and keeping a good lookout from side to side for the likeliest
spot for my attempt.  I was still keenly watching when the shades of
evening darkened into night, and the right place had not yet come; there
were even moments when doubts began to creep in, for my arms grew
acutely painful, and this thought worried me terribly: "Helpless as I am
now, and growing weary, shall I have the strength to carry out my plan?"
I still had strength enough to drive out the doubting thought, and
forced myself into watching eagerly for my chance, having pretty well
determined what I would do first, trusting to the sudden surprise to
give me a few moments' start.

In vain I looked for such a sanctuary as a rocky pile of scattered
granite would afford, for it had at last grown dark--a clear,
semi-transparent darkness, through which I could see twenty or thirty
yards in any direction; beyond that distance everything rapidly grew
black.  If I could at once get fifty yards away, there was apparently
clear galloping ground, and distance would at any moment furnish me with
a dark hiding-place.  All I wanted was the start; but how to get it?

I had my big knife in my pocket; but I might as well have been without
it, fastened as I was.  So, though I thought and thought, I could see no
way of dividing that rein; the idea of raising it to my teeth being
dismissed as an impossibility, as also of Sandho cutting it with his own
powerful nip, for I knew the idea of communicating my desire to the
horse was absurd.  "How to manage?  How to manage?"  I kept on saying to
myself.  The idea would not come; and as it grew darker our canter gave
place to a round trot, and soon after we steadied down to a walk.

Suppose I suddenly made Sandho rear up?  That would be easy, for I could
make him rise on his hind-legs and fight with his fore.  But what good
would that do?  No more than making him kick violently in all
directions, as he turned his fore-feet into a pivot upon which he
turned, bringing his heels round to all points of the compass, and
delivering smashing blows with them.  Splendid practice this when a
litter of half-grown lions were trying to pull him down, but now not
likely to do more than bring down punishment upon the poor beast.

Again and again I made up my mind to make him give a sudden bound; but
the chances were that it would not snap the rein, only cruelly drag the
poor fellow's mouth.  And the minutes glided by, and the position grew
more and more hopeless.  Then, suddenly, I seemed to see the only
possible way of getting clear.  We rode with long reins, my father and
I, and I began to wonder why I had not thought of putting my plan in
action before.



CHAPTER FIVE.

A DASH FOR LIBERTY.

As I have said, one of my reins was unbuckled, passed over the horse's
neck, and buckled to the Boer's saddle-bow; and in consequence of the
length of the strap, it hung down in a long curve when we were riding a
fair distance apart, so I felt I had only to press my horse close
alongside that of my companion to slacken the leather strap still
further.  My plan was almost a forlorn hope; but I could think of no
other, and determined to try it, even if, as would probably be the case,
it meant no more than dragging me suddenly from the saddle, to fall and
be trampled among the horses' heels.  Still, I was determined, and only
waited now for the thrilling moment when I would try.

We rode on for what seemed to me another mile, and still one moment
seemed as good as another.  I was ready to despair.  Then the time came.
The Boer at my side, having slung his cocked rifle over his shoulder,
fumbled in the darkness for something.  Guessing what my companion was
about to do, with a slight pressure of my right leg I made Sandho edge
gradually closer.  I was quite right.  He took out a big Dutch pipe and
a pouch, proceeding to fill the bowl and press down the tobacco; and as
he worked so did I.  Edging Sandho nearer and nearer, with my heart
beginning to beat with big, heavy throbs, I withdrew my left foot from
the stirrup, lowered it down in front of the loosely-hanging rein, and,
as soon as that was level with my ankle, twisted my foot again and
again, till the rein was three times round.  Then I felt the drag upon
the Boer's saddle-bow, just as the man was getting a light; and at that
moment my leg came in contact with his so suddenly that it jerked him,
and the match he had struck went out.

"Thunder and lightning!" he growled, kicking out to drive Sandho farther
away, but missing him, for I had just thrust my toe back into the
stirrup-iron and was pressing my horse away.

The next minute scratch went another match, the bright light shining out
for a moment between us so that I could see the man's face plainly as he
held the burning splint between his hands on a level with his chin.
Then it was out again, for with a loud, shrill cry I was urging Sandho
to make his great effort--one which, as I have said, meant either
freedom--if the escape of one bound as I was could be so regarded--or
the horse galloping away and leaving me to be trampled under foot.

"_Ri_--_ri_--_ri_--_ri_--_ri_--_ri_!"  I half-shrieked, and Sandho made
a tremendous bound.  There was a jerk at my left leg which nearly
dragged me from the saddle, and then we were off and away, the horse
tearing over the level plain out into the darkness; while close behind,
after a momentary pause, I heard the trampling of horses and the
high-pitched voice of the Irish leader yelling out orders.  Then flash
after flash cut the darkness, and _crack, crack, crack_ came the reports
of the rifles, as the men fired in what they believed to be my
direction; but I heard no whistling bullet, and the firing ceased as
quickly as it had begun, for there was the risk of my pursuers
inflicting injury upon their fellows who led, and whom I could hear
thundering along behind me, while with voice and knee I urged Sandho on
at his greatest speed.

A wild feeling of elation sent the blood dancing through my veins as we
raced along, and I was ready to burst out into shout after shout of
triumph, for I was free! free!  And away we went, I almost perfectly
helpless, and knowing I must trust to my brave horse to carry me beyond
the reach of pursuit.

_Throb, throb, throb_ went his hoofs on the soft earth, and _throb,
throb, throb_ went my heart, during what seemed now like some wild,
feverish dream in which I was careering onward through the
semi-transparent darkness, fully expecting every moment to see some
great patch of brush or pile of loose granite loom up before us, to be
followed by a tremendous leap, a crash as we came to horrible grief, and
then insensibility; but nothing of the kind occurred, for I had chosen
the happiest moment for my attempt, and we were galloping over the
almost level veldt.  But evidently guided by the beat of my horse's
hoofs, the Boers were still in full chase, the deep thudding of their
troopers sounding loud and clear.

For a few minutes, in the wild excitement, I could think of nothing but
whispering words of encouragement to Sandho, as I lay right forward now
and pressed and caressed him with my legs; while, as I reached towards
his head, I could just make out the delicate ears, and see them laid
back to listen to my words every time I spoke.

Then a strange pain brought me more consciousness of my position.  It
was not the aching above my crippled wrists, but in my left leg, which
felt strained and stretched as if on the rack, and for a few moments I
fancied my foot had been torn off at the ankle; but the next moment I
knew this was absurd, for I could rise in my stirrups.  Still, I knew my
leg was badly hurt, and that I must now endeavour to do something to
free my hands.

All this time we were tearing along at racing pace, while with dogged
obstinacy the Boers--ten or a dozen of them, I judged by the beating of
the hoofs--had settled themselves to the pursuit, meaning to hunt me
down as they would track some wounded eland trying its best for life.

"This won't do," I thought as I began to grow calmer, and listened.

There they were, tearing along, far enough behind, but well on my track;
and there was I, almost helpless, struggling to get my bonds undone, but
only giving myself more pain.

The darkness was my only friend and refuge, and after a few moments'
consideration I made up my mind what to do.  At any moment the chase
might be at an end.  Seven years on the veldt had taught me well the
risks of a horseman, and I knew only too well what would happen if
Sandho did not rise in time, or failed to clear some one of the
thousands of scattered rocks; or he might plunge his foot in a hole made
by some burrowing animal, and come down crippled for life, while I was
flung over his head.  Yes, the chase might come to an end at any moment,
and all hope of reaching Echo Nek be gone; so, drawing a deep breath, I
steadied myself.  Then I strained forward as far as I could reach, and
spoke to Sandho, who uttered a whinnying snort and began to check
himself.  As soon as he had eased down into a canter I brought my left
leg to bear upon him, and an agonising pain shot up to my hip, turning
me so faint that for a minute I was giddy and nearly lost my seat; but
my pressure upon his flank had caused him to amble on at right angles to
our former course.  As my head grew clearer I brought him down to a
walk, and directly after stopped him short.  I saw his ears twitching,
and his head turned in the direction from whence came the heavy beat of
hoofs.  This sound came closer and closer, and then swept past, as I sat
with beating heart, mental distress being added to my bodily pain, for
at any moment I knew Sandho might utter a neighing challenge to the
passing horses; but he was silent, and they passed at a swinging gallop,
the sound soon growing fainter.  I was beginning to breathe more freely
when my agony was renewed; for the beating of hoofs was resumed, and I
could tell that the little troop of Boers was divided into two, and the
risk had again to be encountered.

I dared not whisper to Sandho for fear he should answer me in his own
way and reach round his soft, velvety muzzle to touch my expected hand,
now so painfully held back.  These seemed the worst, the most agonising,
moments of my flight; and I felt sick with pain, too.  If the horse
whinnied, all my desperate struggle would have been in vain; and I was
ready in my anguish to ask whether it was worth while to go on with the
desperate attempt.

All this time the horsemen came nearer and nearer.  In my agitation it
seemed they were not following the departing hoof-sounds in a direct
line, but riding in a curve which would bring them right over the spot
where we stood.

How long the moments are in such an emergency!  The time seemed to me
stretched out to an agonising length; but this second strain came to an
end, and Sandho stood motionless, with his flanks heaving beneath me.  I
could hear his breath come hard as the Boers galloped on abreast, closer
and closer; and then the _thud, thud, thud_ grew less and less plain,
till the sounds gradually became faint in the distance.  I now felt
ready to spring from my saddle and go down in thankfulness upon my
knees; but I dared not stir, for if I managed to throw myself down, I
knew perfectly well I could never get into the saddle again.



CHAPTER SIX.

NIGHT ON THE VELDT.

I sat there in the chilly darkness, listening till the last sounds of
the beating hoofs died out--began again--grew fainter--finally ceased
altogether.  Sandho stood perfectly still, with the painful heaving of
his flanks gradually easing down.  At last he uttered a low whinnying
sound, as if asking me why we did not go on; but I made no movement,
spoke no word, only sat and listened for the return of the Boers.

There was no sound, for my ruse had succeeded; and I was just beginning
to try to rouse myself from a faint, half-swooning state, when my nerves
received a fillip; for there in the distance rose the deep, barking roar
of a lion, followed by a pause, and then from a different direction came
the horrible wailing howl of the unclean prowlers who follow the monarch
of the desert to finish the remains of his feasts.

Sandho stirred uneasily and drew a deep breath, which was followed by
something strangely resembling a sigh.  I knew it was time to move; and,
shaking off a sensation of fast-approaching lethargy, I tried to get rid
of the feeling of faintness, and only roused the sharp pain afresh.
Still, that spurred me into effort; and as I pressed Sandho's sides
lightly, he began to amble gently along, while I raised my eyes to the
stars, and endeavoured to make out which way we were travelling.  There
was a soft mistiness in the great arch above me, and it was some minutes
before I could pick out a few of the familiar stars; but at last I was
certain, and made out that the Boers had galloped on nearly due north,
while Sandho's nose was pointed east.

North meant home; and without doubt they would keep on in that
direction, feeling sure that I should make for the farm.  East meant
going in the right direction for Echo Nek and the mountains, though I
should have to bear off after a time towards the north-east.  Anyhow,
matters were so far in my favour, and I tried to sit firm in the saddle
as I let the horse amble on at the pace which I had often compared to
swinging in an easy-chair; but the movement was agony now, and my great
dread was lest I should faint and fall, for the suffering seemed greater
than I could bear.

In times of emergency--as I have often learned since--we are very poor
judges, whether as boys or men, of how much the human frame can bear.
Thus, in spite of all I suffered, I kept in the saddle, while, in what
gradually seemed to grow into a horrible, fevered dream, my brave little
horse ambled on and on, and later settled into a walk.  He seemed always
to be aiming for one great dim star, which gave me encouragement; then
the dread came over me that, from his steady pursuance of our journey,
he must be making for home, and taking me right into the midst of my
enemies.

After a time he stopped short, and from the steady _crop, crop, crop_, I
knew he was amongst grass; and he grazed away long enough before moving
on again at his old amble.  Again he pulled up for another good long
feed, while I managed to find words to talk to him--foolishly, no doubt;
but it helped me and kept off the feeling of pain and loneliness,
seeming to give me strength, too, as I called him "Poor fellow," and
told him how sorry I was I could not get down to rest him, and make his
meal pleasanter by unfastening the curb and taking out his bit.

It was all folly perhaps; but my words were very earnest and true, and I
believe the poor, faithful slave liked to hear my voice, for every now
and then when I spoke he would cease cropping the rich grass, whose
moist odour rose pleasantly to my nostrils, and utter one of his low
whinnying calls.

"He is happy enough," I thought, in my dull misery; "while I, suffering
as I do, would give anything for a mouthful of water.  Oh!"  I sighed
aloud at last, "if this long night would only come to an end, and I
could reach a spruit.  Just to get down and have one long drink, before
trying to sleep and rest!"

As I said these words I felt that no sleep could possibly come to one
suffering such pain, and in desperation I once more made an effort to
free my hands, but only to set my teeth hard and utter a faint groan,
for the pain I suffered in the act seemed to increase tenfold.

I felt half-delirious and strange after that, or at least it seems so
now; but I have some recollection of Sandho going on, stopping to crop
the grass, and then going on again and again, till I found myself gazing
straight before me at a faint, dull light in the distance--a light which
increased more and more, bringing with it a kind of feeling of hope that
the long night of agony was coming to an end, for I knew I was gazing
eastward, and that it would soon be day.

Shortly afterwards I could see we were getting to the termination of the
plain, for there were scattered blocks of stone, with mountains beyond;
and something seemed to flash through me at the sight.  "Stones," I said
aloud; "of course!  Why not some rough edge against which I can saw the
raw-hide straps which bind my hands?"

There was a faint speck of orange light high up in the sky just then,
and it seemed to be reflected somehow into my brain, making me see my
way at last to a better state of things.  Hope was coming with the new
day, and the blackness of despair slowly dying out.

With the sun rapidly brightening the sky, I urged Sandho forward, but
only at a walk, for he was weary and sluggish, and the slightest
movement beyond that pace brought back the sickening pain so intensely
that I believe if he had broken into a trot I should have fainted and
fallen to the ground.  By going gently, however, we gradually neared the
wild and rocky portion beyond which the huge masses of stone towered up
into a mighty heap, forming one of the rough hills with precipitous
sides known to the Dutch settlers as "kopjes" or "heads."

I now began to revive more and more in the fresh, invigorating morning
air, and carefully examined the open veldt away to the north and east in
search of the enemy; but not a living thing was visible.  Then I turned
my attention towards the rough ground in front and the kopje beyond, as
I knew full well these were likely to be the home of other enemies,
which on an ordinary occasion would retreat before an armed and mounted
man; how they would behave towards one so completely helpless I
shuddered to think.  Sandho, however, made no sign beyond raising his
muzzle again to sniff at the breeze we encountered; and when I called
upon him to halt, he lowered his head directly and began to crop the
rich grass growing amongst the stones.

My intention now was to dismount; but I sat still, hesitating, and
looking away over the open veldt, fearing to alight, being fully aware
how helpless I should be and unequal to the task of remounting.

However, it had to be done; so, pulling myself together, I drew my feet
from the stirrups, and called upon Sandho to stand fast.  Then, lying
forward till my face touched my steed's neck, I made a desperate
effort--quickly, for I could not trust my strength--drew my injured left
leg right up on to the horse's back, and lay there perfectly still for a
few moments, suffering horribly from the pain of my overstrained
muscles, before making another effort, and then dropped down on my right
foot, dismounting on the wrong side of the horse, feeling, as I did so,
everything give way.  I had completely collapsed, and all was blank.  It
may have been an hour, or it may have been only a few minutes--possibly
only seconds--passed before I opened my eyes and gazed up, wondering
what was the meaning of the soft, warm puffs of moist air, and what it
was that kept on snuffing at my face.

"Sandho, old boy!"  I said, gazing up in his great, soft eyes, and the
wondering horse whinnied and then turned away to begin grazing once
more; while I waited for the sick feeling from which I suffered to pass
off, before trying to get up and find some sharp-edged stone against
which I could rub the raw-hide thong which bound my wrists.

It was terrible work, and I had to make a severe call upon my courage
before I made the first effort.  For it was like this: I was quite
exhausted and in a state of semi-stupor, combined with drowsiness.  So
long as I lay quite still my injuries felt dull and numbed; but at the
slightest movement my arms and shoulders gave a burning, fiery pain,
while my left leg and ankle shot out pangs almost unbearable.

The effort had to be made, though; and, setting my teeth hard, I called
up all my powers of endurance, and after a severe struggle managed to
get upon my knees.

The pain now was excruciating; and, realising that my left leg must be
badly hurt, I made another effort before I was overcome again, getting
upon my feet and reeling towards a big upright mass of granite; but
before I had taken half-a-dozen limping steps the whole scene began to
glide round me, and I fell heavily, insensible once more.

It is no easy task to rise to one's feet when lying with arms tightly
bound behind the back.  Think, then, what it must have been to one
suffering as I was--arms swollen and cut into by the leather thong,
utterly exhausted, and with one leg rendered completely useless.

Again I passed through that sickening phase of recovery from a swoon;
and then it was some time before my senses would act, and I could fully
grasp the situation and understand I must once more make that same
effort to rise.

I was thoroughly desperate now; and as soon as I fully grasped my
position I made another attempt, turning over from my back, where I lay
in agony upon my swollen hands and wrists, on to my face.  It was
impossible to keep it back, and I uttered a low cry, which brought
Sandho trotting towards me from where he was making a hearty meal.  Then
I lay quite still, with the deathly sickness passing off once more, my
heart beating heavily all the time and a feeling of thankfulness making
me glow; for there, as I lay face downwards, I knew that my helpless and
swollen arms and hands were lying on either side, perfectly numb, but
free.  In that last heavy fall, in trying to reach the stone, the thong
must have snapped, the dew-soaked raw leather falling loose; and now I
had only to wait till the circulation and sense of feeling returned.

The pain I suffered was still bad enough, but it seemed to be softened
by the feeling of joy which pervaded me; and soon after, Sandho having
wandered off again to graze, I heard a sound which nerved me to renewed
efforts--the peculiar plashing made by a horse wading into a pebbly
stream.  That was enough.  A minute later I was struggling to reach the
stone I had fought to gain before; and by its help I got upon my feet,
when I saw Sandho some twenty yards away, standing in a depression by
the side of a perpendicular mass of rock, down whose side a spring of
water gushed and ran off below the rock, to sink out of sight some
distance off.

It was hard work, and the pain excessive; but I limped and shuffled
along till I was close to the stream, and then sank down again, to lie
and drink and drink again of the sweet, pure water, every mouthful
giving me renewed energy.

I must have fallen asleep after dragging myself from the pool--a
swoon-like sleep, from which I awoke in a confused, muddled state--only
gradually grasping my position and realising how long I must have been
insensible, for the kopje above me was glowing as if on fire, bathed in
the glory which suffused the west.  My horse was lying down a dozen
yards away, with his head just raised; and in front, forming a charming
picture, was a little herd of about a dozen graceful antelopes, some
drinking, some standing in the water, and another upon the top of a low
flat stone, with head erect and long horns gracefully curving over its
back as it kept a lookout for danger; a slight movement upon my part a
few moments later making the beautiful animal utter a snort, and then
the whole party were off like the wind.

Their rush made Sandho spring to his feet with a neigh of alarm, and
then, as I made an effort and rose to a sitting position, he bounded up
to me, whinnying with pleasure, and thrust his muzzle over my shoulder.

To my delight, I found that, though painful and tender, the swelling of
my arms and wrists had gone down; while much of the pain had left my
leg, which was, however, stiff and helpless from the terrible wrench.

My first movement was to get to the spring above where the little stream
had been trampled and discoloured by the antelopes; and after a good
draught I stood up once more, feeling ready to attempt mounting again,
and see if I could reach the spot my father had appointed for the
meeting with Joeboy.  I knew, too, from sundry symptoms, that I must be
better--far better than I could have expected, for I was ravenously
hungry; and as I realised this I could not keep back a laugh.  A capital
sign this, though painful, for there was no chance of obtaining food
till I could reach some farm; but I could recall no likely place on my
way to the Nek, and so the hunger-pains had to be borne.

Leaving Sandho browsing upon the rich grass near the spring in a dainty
way, which, in combination with his appearance, suggested that he had
been feeding to his heart's content, I climbed over the rocks till I
reached the highest point of the kopje.  There, lying down, I set myself
to carefully scan the open veldt in search of mounted men; till,
satisfied there were none to be seen, I descended, mounted my horse, and
rode gently away, not suffering more than was to be expected after what
I had gone through.

The country where I now was seemed fairly familiar, and I soon made out
mountain-tops in the distance, which served as guides.  One peak in
particular I marked down as lying to the left of Echo Nek, or at all
events near the gap in the mountains I was to reach; and towards this
Sandho ambled for another hour, when the night began to close in fast.
After marking down the direction of the peak as well as I could before
the light died out on the misty horizon, I waited till it was quite
dark, then I selected a star which I calculated was just over where I
had last seen the peak, and once more rode on for what must have been
three hours; but then, concluding that to ride farther might possibly
mean going astray, I walked my horse till a tolerably suitable spot
offered itself for a halting-place till daylight, where I off-saddled
Sandho, turned him loose to graze, and settled myself down in a patch of
thorny bush to pass the night as I could.

I longed to light a fire to keep off lions; but in avoiding one enemy I
felt I might be attracting another; for if there were Boers anywhere in
the neighbourhood they would be certain to ride up, and then all my
efforts would prove to have been in vain.  Hence there was nothing for
it but to take the risk.

The night was glorious though cold, for I had been imperceptibly rising
into high ground.  The stars sparkled as if there was frost; but I had
no eyes for the beauty of the scene, hemmed in as I was by enemies.
Twice over I shivered as to the fate of poor Sandho, the deep, muttering
roar of the lions seeming to make the ground tremble and the air
vibrate.  If they scented my horse and drew near I was perfectly
defenceless, and could do nothing to save the poor beast.  So alarmed
did I grow at last upon his account that I determined to risk being
seen, and hurriedly began to collect scraps of dead wood, twigs, and
such pieces of dry grass as were likely to burn.  I did not stop to find
many; but, startled by a loud barking roar that, in my nervous state,
sounded very near, I knelt down and struck a match, holding it well
sheltered with my hands till the splint was fully alight, and then
started the grass and wood.  Fortunately these were thoroughly dry and
caught readily; but the quantity was very small, and the blaze a mere
trifle compared with what I wished to obtain.  So, as actively as I was
able, I started collecting everything I could, and carefully piled it
up; but with small success, for I had to depend entirely upon my hands
to break off scraps, and they burned away almost as fast as I could
reach the fire.

I had just thrown on as much as I could hug to my breast when I was
startled by a heavy breathing; and, turning sharply, for a moment or two
I was certain that one of the fierce beasts had crept up.  There, only a
few feet away, were a pair of glistening eyes reflecting the fitful
flames, and I began to back so as to get the fire between me and my foe.



CHAPTER SEVEN.

MY NOCTURNAL VISITOR.

As I moved it moved too; and I dimly saw the outstretched head and body,
as I supposed, of a monstrous lion about to spring, when, the fire
having flashed up more brightly, I uttered a gasp of relief.  It was
Sandho, who had come quietly up to the fire for company and protection.

I worked the harder then, and kept on hour after hour, having to take
longer and longer journeys as I exhausted the supply close at hand; and
all the time I was perfectly conscious that lions were near, prowling
round our little apology for a camp so as to spring upon the horse and
pull him down.  Every time I started for more fuel I expected to hear a
roar and feel one of the savage creatures spring upon me; but the night
wore on, with the fire giving a steadier glow as the time passed.  I
suppose the fact of my keeping up a hurried movement, making a desperate
rush here and there, with the light from the fire throwing up my figure
plainly, was too much for the great cats, and they feared to attack.
Whatever it was, they were kept at bay; and daybreak found me thoroughly
exhausted, the last growl having died out, the light showing the great
soft footprints of our enemies round and round the clump of bushes,
crossing and recrossing, and suggesting that there had been a party of
four--an old lioness and her nearly full-grown cubs.

It was a narrow escape; and, as if only too glad to get away from so
dangerous a spot, Sandho so fidgeted to start that I had hard work to
secure the broken end of his rein to the ring of the bit without
shortening it so much that I could not hold it in my hand.

I took a good look round, however, before starting, and it was well I
did so, for, clearly seen now in the level sunbeams away to the north,
there was a party of horsemen riding in my direction, and discovery
seemed certain, even if I had not already been seen.

My first idea was to spring into the saddle and gallop off; but I was in
no condition for springing into my saddle.  Crippled as I was, it meant
a slow and painful climb, and then in all probability the utmost I could
do would be to walk my horse slowly away.

To mount, lie down, and urge the horse round to the back of the clump of
bushes which had formed my shelter during the past night, and then
cautiously strike off straight away towards the mountains at a walk,
doing my best to keep the shelter of scrub between me and the enemy,
seemed the wiser plan, and this I put into execution.

I had several things in my favour by doing this: the distance between me
and the horsemen was great; and I felt certain that, if it were a
portion of the captain's troop, they had no glass of any kind.  If they
caught sight of me in making my retreat, they would only fancy they saw
the figure of some peculiar, humpbacked-looking animal; and on making
for the mountains my position upon Sandho's back would never lead them
to suppose it was a horse bearing a rider.  This supposition, too, would
be helped by the fact that there were still little herds and single
wanderers, the relics of the vast hosts of antelopes of various species,
from the tiny gazelle-like animals up through the clumsy hartebeeste and
wildebeeste to the huge eland; and at a distance I felt it possible that
myself and steed might be taken for one of these.

While thinking thus, and going through a painful struggle to get upon my
horse properly, it seemed to me that the party were visibly coming
nearer; but, hidden as we were by the bushes, I could see, from where I
lay on my horse's back, as I turned my eyes in their direction, that so
far I was not discovered.  The crucial test, however, was yet to come;
for, though I could keep Sandho out of sight for half a mile possibly,
the land was gradually rising, and in that distance or less, I knew, we
should stand out plainly in the clear air.  Then, if seen, suffer what I
might, I was determined to urge my horse on to his greatest speed,
leaving the rest to fate.

I had no trouble with my well-trained steed, which obeyed every word or
pressure; and with eyes so turned that I could keep the bush between us,
I guided Sandho on till, as I had anticipated, the party of mounted men
came gradually into view--first only the men, but soon after their
horses.  So far, they were going only at a walk, to pass the track
diagonally to my course and some distance away.

As they were so visible, I felt they must soon see me, and tried hard to
efface myself as much as possible, knowing that my dusky-brownish,
homespun breeches, flannel shirt, and tanned high boots must assimilate
well with the coat of my chestnut horse, and this cheered me a little.

Then, suddenly, I knew I was seen, for one of the men drew rein, letting
the others go on a few horse-lengths before; and, as if in answer to a
summons from the man behind, the rest of the party halted and sat gazing
in my direction.

The next minute the man who had halted by himself now dismounted, and I
saw a gleaming light glance from where he stood and then dropped down.
It was too far off for me to see distinctly; but knowledge supplied what
my eyes failed to grasp, and I knew the gleam was from his rifle-barrel
reflecting the sun's rays, and the man's attitude that of one about to
try a long shot at the uncouth animal in view beyond the thorny scrub.

There is an old-fashioned saying about people's feelings in critical
moments: that their hearts stood still.  Now, I don't believe for a
moment that mine ceased to beat; but it certainly felt as if it did,
while I lay rising and falling, yielding to Sandho's movements, and
gazing straight back at the little hole which I knew must be pointed
straight at me--invisible, of course; but the little puff of white smoke
which suddenly jetted into the air was plain enough to my eyes, and so
was the peculiar buzzing sound to my ears as the bullet passed over me
like some strange bee in a violent hurry to reach its hive.  Then came
the sharp crack as of a sjambok wielded by a strong and well-accustomed
arm.

"A miss, and no wonder!"  I exclaimed; and I suppose I must have started
and given Sandho a familiar pressure, or else it was the instinct of
self-preservation at work in the sensible animal, for he suddenly made a
bound forward so unexpectedly that I was nearly unseated; but my arms
were now free, and, reaching down and getting tight hold of his leathern
breastplate, I held on and let him go.  The instinct of
self-preservation was also strongly to the fore in me, and I lay fully
expecting to hear the whizzing of half-a-dozen more bullets and the
cracking of the rifles, since naturally I could see nothing then, my
face lying against the horse's neck, as he bounded on at an easy gallop.

Were the enemy in pursuit?

I strained my hearing, but I could make out nothing more than the
regular beat of my horse's hoofs; while, as no shots came, I felt
certain they had made out my figure and were coming on in full chase.

"They'll have a long one," I thought; for, though I was in great pain, I
found, to my intense delight, that I could accommodate myself to
Sandho's long swinging gallop as he spurned the soft loose earth behind
him, the ascent being exceedingly slight; and we were progressing in a
series of antelope-like bounds.

At last, after galloping for quite ten minutes, something in front made
Sandho swerve round to the left; and, before raising my head to see what
it was, I turned my face sidewise so as to get a glance back at my
pursuers, and could hardly believe my eyes when I saw that no Boers were
there.  It was not until I raised my head a little to gaze back in the
other direction that I could see them far away in the distance,
evidently pursuing the course they had followed before the incidents of
the halt and shot occurred.

Now I held on tightly and raised my head, endeavouring to make out why
my horse had swerved.  There it was plain enough: another of the stony
kops which rose up to block our way had forced him to gallop along the
unencumbered ground at the foot of a great line of hills, beyond which
was the peak I had marked down as being in the neighbourhood of Echo
Nek.

Unfortunately the land here was all strange to me, my journeys never
having led me so far on this side of the mountains.  Still, I felt I
must be going in the direction of the Nek, and that sooner or later I
should come to some valley into which I could strike off to the right,
and get through and round by the peak beyond which I now certainly
believed Echo Nek must be.

I made no effort to check Sandho, who was keeping on nearly level
ground, but now raised myself upright in the saddle to watch for that
which I had forgotten during the time I was in danger, but now that I
was comparatively safe seemed to be the very first thing I should seek.

Many hours had now passed since, I had broken my fast; and at eighteen
the desire for food is a tyrant against which no growing boy or young
man can fight.  But no.  To my right were the rugged, barren hills
undotted by bullock or sheep; to the left a far-spreading stretch of
unfertile veldt; and though I cantered on for another full hour not a
homestead came into sight.

At last, however, I saw a break in the continuous ridge of hills on my
right, and eased Sandho down into his gentle amble, not willing to press
him hard, for I knew that at any minute I might be obliged to urge him
to his greatest speed.

In another half-hour we were bearing off to the right, for the hills had
opened into a broad valley, at the head of which the great peak I had
seen now rose up as if to block the way; and in spite of my hunger I
felt lighter-hearted, for I was getting sure of my bearings.  Yes, there
beyond the shoulder of the peak was the crag just below which lay Echo
Nek only a few miles away, not more than an hour's canter along the
fairly even valley, and then--Oh, if Joeboy should not be there!

"He must; he is sure to be," I said half-aloud.  "Even if he were not
there, father would know how I should be pressed for food, and be there
himself."

This was an encouraging and cheering thought; and, inspired with fresh
hope, I rode on, wondering that, though the veldt looked so unpromising,
some one had not taken up land, if only in the hope of finding minerals
where the soil forbade the fruits of fertile earth; but no.  All was
barren and strange; even the granite blocks and kops were rare, and I
looked still in vain for some sign of human habitation, some track of
wheel or print of foot.  The last I did begin to see now; but they were
not the prints of ironshod hoofs, only those of antelopes, large and
small, and not too frequent.  Still, here was sign; and as I looked more
closely I twice saw the soft round prints of the great sand-coloured
cats, and my eyes began now to roam afield in the expectation of perhaps
seeing those which had made the marks.  No; the open valley that twenty
or thirty years earlier might have been alive with game was absolutely
desolate; not one of the vast herds which used to roam there, as the old
Boers had often told me, was to be seen.

There was nothing whatever to break the long slopes of sand-coloured
soil.

Ah! what was that on the ridge to my left, which ran down till it lost
itself in the open bottom of the valley along which Sandho gently
cantered?  Some white-feathered and familiar birds, displaying their
soft plumes, which looked ostrich-like in the distance.  What could it
be?  I knew no bird, in spite of my wanderings, that ever looked like
that.  Still, a bird was a bird, and game, and the thought of game at
such a time was glorious; but my spirits sank again, for I had no
weapon, and then the grapes seemed to be sour.

"It isn't a bird; only a feather or two dropped by some old cock
ostrich," I said aloud.

No.  The feathers began to rise from the edge of the ridge, and there
was a black face beneath them, then the broad breast, and finally the
full figure of a stalwart Kaffir warrior, his thin arms and ankles
ornamented with wool, his savage panoply of shield and assagai in his
left hand, and his eyes shaded by his right hand, which cut straight
across his forehead just below the fillet holding the three white
ostrich feathers.  He was evidently watching me.



CHAPTER EIGHT.

PERILS WHICH GROW.

Upon making out what was before me, the little I had heard about the war
rushed across my mind, and I saw at once that, catching the infection,
at least one of the native tribes which had been disarmed, and were
previously living at peace, had broken out, seizing the opportunity of
their Dutch and English masters being at enmity to take one side or the
other, possibly with some vague idea that they would thus regain their
independence.

What this warrior might be I could not tell at a distance, for he might
prove a Zulu still smarting under the defeat inflicted upon his nation
by the British, or a Swazi who bitterly hated the Boers for their brutal
treatment during the past.

I felt I ought to be able to tell at once by his appearance; but my
knowledge was, after all, imperfect, and I certainly could not at a
distance make out to what nation the man belonged.

I had not long time for consideration, as Sandho was steadily carrying
me nearer; but I decided to go as close as I could without getting
within range of an assagai; for it was worth some risk to get in touch
with a friendly native in my emergency, since I knew he would try all he
could to furnish me with food.

So I rode slowly on, straining my eyes the while to scan the various
points in his slight dress, but keeping a sharp lookout right and left
to make sure that his companions, if he had any, were not, after their
fashion, crawling along under cover to outflank me.  However, all seemed
safe, for there was no cover on either side; but below the black
warrior, and behind the ridge, there was ample space for a couple of
hundred of his kin to be lying out of sight, ready at a signal to spring
up and make a furious onslaught.

"And turn me into a sort of human pin-cushion, which they would fill
with their assagais," I said half-aloud.  "That wouldn't do, Sandho, old
boy; so be ready to gallop off when I pull your rein."

My horse threw up his head and laid back his ears, beginning to bound
off at once; but I checked him.

"Not yet, old boy; not yet.  When I give the word you must make a
half-turn, and we must try and circumvent them--if it is them, and not
only one.--How near dare I go?"  I asked myself; and I decided that
forty yards would be as far as I ought to venture, being of course well
on the _qui vive_.

The black--Swazi or Zulu--looked a terribly formidable enemy as he stood
above me, clearly seen against the sky, and I was beginning to feel that
I must not go much farther; but I was still in the dark as to what he
might be, friend or enemy, when he mystified me still further by
suddenly striking an attitude, standing as if suddenly turned into a
bronze figure defying some one on his right.  Directly after, he dashed
into a kind of war-dance, advancing, retreating, throwing imaginary
assagais at invisible foes, and then coming apparently to close
quarters, screening his body with his long elliptic shield, and stabbing
away at men standing and others falling all around.

I need hardly say I drew rein at once and sat ready to urge Sandho to
his greatest speed at a moment's notice, for I felt that these
evolutions might either mean defiance and a display of what he would do
to me when I came within reach, or a feint to show his friendliness.

I cast the latter idea aside at once, and came to the conclusion that my
warlike gentleman was on the watch for an opportunity to dash in after
throwing me off my guard, and then I knew only too well what would
happen--that which had befallen many an unfortunate settler in the past:
a couple of small assagais darted at him like lightning, and the thrower
rushing in after them with his stabbing weapon, followed by the fatal
termination.

Still the grotesque dance went on, yet I felt pretty safe, for I was
fully fifty yards distant, and had often proved Sandho in encounters
with wild beasts; so I had no doubt of getting away in time when the
savage made his rush which was certainly coming, as I saw the lithe
actor was gradually working himself up to a sufficient pitch of
excitement.  His eyes were rolling, his powerful black limbs shone, and
he darted here and there, leaping in the air to deliver some thrust with
greater effect, and generally carrying on in a way that would have made
me burst into a hearty fit of contemptuous laughter at the childish
exhibition, evidently meant to impress me with the fellow's great
bravery, had there not been, as I well knew, so terribly bloodthirsty an
element beneath it all.

"There, Sandho," I said softly as I leaned forward to stroke my horse's
soft arching neck, "I think we've had enough of the idiot's nonsense,
and we'll go."

I was in the act of saying these words, keenly watching all round for
danger, as well as beyond the bounding black in the full expectation of
catching sight at any moment of the plumed heads of a party of his
companions rising above the ridge, when, as if in a final effort or an
attempt at a climax to the weirdly absurd performance, the black warrior
proceeded to finish off with the slaying of about a dozen invisible
enemies around him.  Bang went his stabbing assagai against his shield,
and then _stab, stab, stab_, when he turned upon his feet as if upon a
pivot, darting his weapon as if he were some fierce creature armed with
a terrible sting.  I seemed to see in imagination an enemy go down at
every thrust; a strange thrill of horror ran through me, and an awful
kind of fascination held me seated there on my horse, as the black
warrior stabbed away till his back was completely turned to me and he
delivered a tremendous thrust, uttering a horrible yell.  Then I burst
out into a hysterical peal of laughter, and nearly fell out of the
saddle.

Why?  Because never was anything more absurd.  The warrior's face was
averted, and the long elliptically-shaped shield no longer covered the
greater part of his person; and though I had failed in recognition
before, I knew him now by the tremendously cut-down trousers he wore.

"Go on, Sandho," I said, and my horse walked gently forward, while the
actor gave three or four more thrusts to kill the rest of the dozen
invisible enemies, bringing himself face to face with me; and after
leaping high in the air, uttering a triumphant yell, he grinned at me
from ear to ear, as he breathlessly cried:

"'At's a way kill um all, Boss Val."

For it was Joeboy on the war-path, ready in his own opinion to slay all
the Boers in the state.



CHAPTER NINE.

THE FRIEND IN NEED.

"Why, Joeboy," I cried, wiping my eyes, "you're splendid.  But where's
Echo Nek?"

"Dah!" he said, pointing behind him with the dangerous-looking assagai
he carried.

"Did you see me coming?"

He nodded, it being one of his habits to say as little in English as he
could.

"Tell me: have you got anything to eat?"  I said.  "I'm starving."

He darted back to the other side of the ridge, and came back with the
strap of a big canvas satchel over his shoulder, the bag-part looking
bulky in the extreme.

"Um Tant Jenny," he said, frowning, as he shook the satchel, and then
proceeded to scrape off with the blade of his stabbing-assagai the large
ants which had scented the contents and were swarming to the attack.
"Is there any water near?"  I asked.

"Um," said Joeboy, pointing towards the other side of the ridge.

"Then there will be grass too," I said.  "Go on, and show the way.
Quick!"

The great black nodded and went off at a trot, taking me over the ridge
and down a steep slope into a large gap in the side of the hill; and a
quarter of an hour later we were alongside a bubbling stream, where
long, rich, juicy grass grew in abundance.

Directly after Sandho was grazing contentedly; and when I had drunk from
the pure fresh water, I was devouring rather than eating the magnified
salt-beef sandwiches of which the satchel contained ample store, while
Joeboy grinned to see the way in which one disappeared.

"Catch hold," I said, pushing a great sandwich towards my black
companion; but he shook his head and shrank away.

"Tant Jenny say all young Boss Val," he said, and then he laughed and
displayed a large packet carefully fastened to the inside of his shield.
This packet he opened, took out a sandwich similar to mine, then
squatted down and began to eat.

"Joeboy had plenty yes'day," he said, and he gave his front a circular
rub as if to suggest that it was still fairly stored, after which he
went on munching slowly as if to keep me company.

"Now," I said after eating a few mouthfuls, "what did my father say?"

"Big Boss say Joeboy go Echo Nek.  Stop till son Val come."

"Is that all?"  I said wonderingly.

"Yes; all Boss say."

As he spoke, however, Joeboy laid his sandwich upon the shield beside
him, and then began to fumble behind him in the band of his cut-down
trousers, out of a leopard-skin pocket attached to which he drew a
packet of common leather tied up with a slip of the same.

I opened the leather packet with trembling fingers, and found a letter,
which I eagerly read:

"Dear Val,--I take it for granted, my boy, that you will escape from
those ruffians and be lying in wait for my message.  I find, though,
that Joeboy is missing, and if he does not return I shall have to come
and meet you myself, and then I can tell you what to do.  I will,
however, write this in the hope that I can send it, as I do not want to
leave your aunt and Bob, for there is much to do, burying and hiding a
few valuables in case we are ever able to come back."

"Oh!"  I exclaimed, and Joeboy half-sprang to his feet, but subsided as
I went on:

"War has broken out, the Boers having defied the British Government.  It
has, of course, all been a surprise to me; but the news is coming in
fast.  Hodson has been here, and he tells me the English are all
receiving orders to go.  It is ruin to us, and after making such a home;
but, God help us! we must do our best.

"Of course you cannot serve against your own countrymen, and I don't
like your having anything to do with the horrible business; but if you
feel that you must join in with our people and act as a volunteer
against what is a cruel tyranny, I know you will act like a man.

"I can write no more, and Heaven knows when we may meet again.  I shall
make for Natal, of course, with as much as I can save out of the wreck--
that is, as much as the enemy will let me carry off.  Perhaps, though,
that will be nothing; and I must be content with getting away with our
lives, for I hear that the blacks are getting uneasy, as if they smelt
blood; and Heaven knows what may happen if they break out, for the white
man is their natural enemy in their eyes, and, friends now, they may be
our foes to-morrow.

"God bless and protect you, my boy!  Aunt Jenny's dear love to you, and
she is going to help me to hold Bob in, for the young dog is mad to come
after you.

"Your father, in the dear old home he is about to quit, perhaps for
ever.

"John Moray.

"_PS_:--Good news, my boy.  Joeboy has just come back, in full fighting
fig.  He will bring this, and some provision for a day or two.  I feel
sure you may trust him.  He has been showing me what he would do to any
one who tried to hurt young Boss Val.  He is like a big child; but he is
true as steel.  Good-bye.

"Heaven be with you, my boy!"

That last line was in Aunt Jenny's handwriting, and there were big
blotches on the paper where the ink had run, and over them came a few
lines in Bob's clumsy hand:

"Val, old chap, the dad says I'm not to come along with Joeboy to join.
I told him it was a shame, for I felt in a passion, and he knocked me
down.

"That's only my larks.  He did knock me down, but not with his fist or
the handle of a--I don't know how you spell it; but I mean chambock.  He
knocked me over with what he said.  He told me it was my duty to stop
and help him and auntie.  He might want me to fight for him and her.  If
he does, I'll shove in two cartridges--I mean only one bullet; and I
don't care if the old rifle kicks till she breaks my collar-bone.  I
mean to let the Boers have it for coming and upsetting us.  I never knew
how nice dear old home was before.  Old--"

That was the bottom of the paper; but upon turning it over, there at the
very top on the other side, and in the left-hand corner above the word
"Val," where my father had begun, was the word "Beasts," which I had
passed over unnoticed as being part of some memorandum on the paper when
my father took it up hurriedly to write.

I always was a weak, emotional sort of fellow--perhaps it was due to the
climate, and my having had the fever when we first came there--and the
writing looked very dim and blurry before my eyes; and yet I felt
inclined to laugh over what Bob had scribbled.  I did laugh when my eyes
grew clear again, for Bob had, apparently at the last, taken up the pen
to write along the edge of the paper, and so badly that it was hard to
read:

"I say, Joeboy looks fizzing.  He's been oiling himself over to make him
go easy, and sharpening his saygays with the scythe-rubber."

"And so there's to be no more home," I said softly as I carefully folded
up the paper and placed it in my breast.  Then somehow the terrible
feeling of hunger died out, and I only drank some more water.

"Boss Val eat lot," said Joeboy, his voice making me start.

"No more, now, Joeboy," I said.  "I'll wait a bit."

"Wait a bit," he said, nodding his head, and then carefully replacing
what I had left in the satchel.

"Fasten that to the back of my saddle," I said.

"Um!  Joeboy carry."

"No, no," I replied.  "We must part now, Joeboy.  I can't go back home,
nor stay here."

Joeboy shook his head.

"No stop," he said.  "All bad."

"You don't understand," I said.

"Um!" he said, nodding.  "Joeboy know.  Boss Val fight Boers."

"Perhaps; but you must go back and help my father if he has to leave the
farm."

There was another shake of the head and a frown; then a silence, during
which the great black seemed to be thinking out what he was to say in
English to make his meaning clear.  At last it came as he sat there with
his shield on one side, his assagais on the other; and, to my surprise,
he took up the big stabbing weapon and one of the light throwing-shafts
before touching me on the chest with a finger.

"Boss John big boss," he said solemnly.  "Boss Val little boss;" and he
held up the two spears to illustrate his words.  "Big boss say, `Go
'long my boy.'  Little boss say, `Go 'long my dad.'  Joeboy say, `Don't
car'; shan't go.  Got to go 'long Boss Val.'"

"My father told you this?"

"Um!" said the great fellow; "dat's all right."

"But you would be so much use to my father, Joe, to manage the bullocks
in the wagon."

"No," he said.  "No bullock.  Boer boy take 'em all away.  Boss John no
got nothing soon."

"You are sure my father said you were to go with me, Joeboy?"  I said
after a few minutes' pause.

"Um," he said, nodding his head fiercely.  "Say, `Take care my boy,
Joeboy.'  Joeboy take care Boss Val."

He caught up his shield and sprang to his feet, with the assagais
trembling in his big hand, looking as if he could be a terrible
adversary in a close conflict, though helpless against modern weapons of
war.

This thought made me think of myself and my own position.

"Very well, Joeboy.  I say you shall come with me."

He nodded.

"But you'll have to lend me one of your assagais till I can get a
rifle."

"Boss Val got rifle gun," he said sharply.

"Where?  No; I have only my knife."

Joeboy laughed, and ran to the side of the rift, where he began to
scratch in the sand, and a few inches down laid bare the muzzle of my
rifle, gave it a tug, and it came out with the well-filled bandolier
attached.

I caught at it with a cry of eager joy, and began to carefully dust away
every particle of sand that clung to it before slipping on the belt,
forgetting the aching pains in my wrists and left leg, as something like
a glow of confidence ran through me.  Then came back the thought of
home, with its smiling fields, orchard, and garden around the house we
had raised upon the land won from the wilderness; and the thought that I
was to be exiled from it all in consequence of this war; and the
injustice of the Boers raised a spirit of anger against them which
helped me to pull myself together and frowningly resolve to prove myself
a man.

"Action, action," I muttered.  "I should have liked to go back and see
them all again; but I must begin at once, before I am taken.  What would
they do with me?"  I said aloud; and a glance at Joeboy's face showed me
that, awkward though he was at speaking, he comprehended every word I
had said.

"Big Boss Boer," he said, nodding, "say Boss Val come fight.  No Boss
Val fight?  _Whish, whish, whish, crack, cruck_!"

He went through the movement of one wielding a bullock-lash, and
imitated the sound it made through the air and the loud cracking when it
struck home upon quivering flesh.  Then he went on, "Boss Val no fight
now!  _Bang, bang_!"

"Flog me the first time I refuse, Joeboy, and shoot me the next time."

"Um."

"Well, then, we will not give them the chance."

Joeboy shook his head violently.

"What Joeboy do now, Boss?"

"Rub my wrists, Joeboy," I said, stripping up my sleeves and showing him
their bruised state and my swollen arms.

He understood why they were so, and took first one and then the other in
his big soft grey palms, to mould and knead and rub them with untiring
patience for long enough, the effect being pleasurable in the extreme.

But I checked him when he was in the midst of it, and pointed to my leg.

"Boer tie up leg?" he said wonderingly.

I explained what was wrong, and he knelt before me, carefully removing
my laced-up boot, and giving me sickening pain as he drew off my coarse
home-knitted stocking, to lay bare the wrenched and swollen foot and
ankle.

"Um!" he said.  "Boss Val come to water."

He lifted me to the edge of the stream as easily as if I had been a
child, and when I sat down, carefully bathed the joint for fully
half-an-hour, dried it by pouring sand over it again and again, and then
as tenderly as a woman replaced stocking and boot, which latter he laced
very loosely.

"Boss Val go one leg when off Sandho."

"Yes, Joeboy," I said; "but it will soon get better."

"Um!" he said, and he looked at me inquiringly, as if for orders.

"Now we must be off, Joeboy, before the Boers hunt me out."

"Um!" he said, in token of assent; and upon my calling Sandho to my side
Joeboy helped me to mount, securing the satchel to my saddle in
obedience to my orders; and, making for Echo Nek, we went steadily on,
my intention being to get through the pass and some distance on the
other side towards the Natal border before dark.

"We shall know the road better there, Joeboy," I said after we had been
walking some time; "it all seems strange to me here."

"Joeboy know," he said.

"What! the way about here?"  I said, in surprise.  "When did you come?"

"Long while," he replied.  "Lost bullock.  Come here."

"Oh!"--then I remembered.  "Of course.  You were gone a fortnight."

"Um!" said Joeboy.

"And my father thought you had run away, and that we should never see
you again."

"How Joeboy run away?  Bullock no run.  Run other way."

"Yes," I said, laughing; "they are always ready to go in the wrong
direction.  Do you know"--I was going to say something about the rising
of one of the rivers up in the mountains somewhere near, but I stopped
short, for my companion suddenly darted to Sandho's head and pressed him
sidewise towards a pile of rocks which offered plenty of shelter from
anything in front.

"What is it, Joeboy?"  I said.  "A good shot at something?"

For answer he pointed upward at the rocks beside the pass which went by
the name of Echo Nek--the place which we had nearly reached, this great
gap in the mountains being the only spot for many miles on either side
where a horse could cross.  As to wagons, a far greater detour was
necessary to find a road.

I looked in the direction he pointed out, but for some moments I could
see nothing.  Then a faint gleam from something moving gave me warning
of what had taken place, and directly after I caught sight of the bearer
of the rifle from whose barrel the sunlight had flashed.



CHAPTER TEN.

RUNNING THE GAUNTLET.

Under other circumstances I should have leaped down from my horse and
crouched; but my leg had grown still and cold, so I sat perfectly
motionless, trying to make out some plan of action I might follow out.
To my dismay, the Boers had been quicker than I had given them credit
for, and had, so to speak, shut the principal gate in the huge wall
which in that particular part closed in their country from Natal.  The
man I had seen was doubtless one of their outposts, and for aught I knew
to the contrary the pass might be held by hundreds of the sturdy
burghers, every man a born rifleman.  To go back by the way I came meant
running into the arms of those who were scouring the country to retake
me, while to make a detour and get round to the other side of the
opening meant getting farther into the Boer country, the more populous
part, where their troops would for certain now be on the move.

It seemed there was no going backward; and upon turning to look at
Joeboy he showed he was of the same opinion.  "No go back," he said;
"all Boer.  Wait till sun gone."

"And try to steal through the pass then," I said eagerly, "in the dark?"

"Um!" he said.  "All dark.  No see Boss Val; no see horse."

"But they'll hear his hoofs.  There are sure to be plenty of sentries."

"Um, plenty much Boer.  Go soft, soft.  Then Sandho gallop."

"And what about you?"  I said, as I grasped that he meant we were to
steal along softly in the darkness till we were heard, and then that I
was to gallop.  "What about you?"

"Joeboy hold stirrup and run," he said, with a laugh.  "Boer better get
out o' way."

This seemed to be our only road out of the difficulty, and I carefully
dismounted, Joeboy leading the horse farther in amongst what was now
becoming a chaotic wilderness of stones; and here, pretty well hidden,
but quite open to discovery by a wandering party of Boers at any time,
we sat down to wait, listening to the steady _crop, crop_, as Sandho
calmly set to work to improve the occasion on grass.

As far as I could make out, the sentry we had seen was about a fifth of
a mile distant; but in all probability there were others perched up on
the lookout in various points of vantage high on either side of the
pass; while those below, I felt sure now, would be in strong force,
fulfilling the double duty of preventing English settlers from passing
out of the country save as the Boers pleased, and defending the place.

"All Boer," he said, pointing in various directions.  "Can't go.  Wait."

"Yes," I said; "we must wait till it is dark."

"Boss Val wait.  Sandho eat and rest," he said.  "Boss lie down."

"No," I replied.  "I must sit here and watch.  You lie down now."

"Boss Val lie down," said the black, shaking his head.  "Boer see um."

"Well, they'll see you," I said.

"Um!" he replied, with a nod.  "Only black man.  See Boss Val; come and
catch um."

It was my turn to nod now, for his meaning was plain.  If the Boers saw
me, my chances of escape were gone; while if by ill-luck they caught
night of him, the probability was that they would not trouble themselves
about a solitary Kaffir.

"You are right, Joeboy," I said.  "I'll keep hidden till it grows dark."

"Um!" he said softly; "get dark.  Then not see Boss Val.  Joeboy go and
look how many."

I was about to oppose this part of his plan, but upon second thoughts I
did not, but selected a better spot for my hiding-place by creeping
among the stones towards where Sandho was grazing, so as to keep him
well under my observation for fear he should stray too far, and not be
within reach should danger arise.  There he was, in a snug nook where
the grass grew thickly consequent upon there being suggestions of a
trickling spring.  The spot was well surrounded, too, by stones, which
on three sides fenced him in, and between two of these, and with a
larger one to form a support for my back, I settled myself as
comfortably as I could, for my leg was still very painful and my arms
ached terribly.  In fact, I was so weary now the time for action was
over that I was quite content to subside, and sit leaning back watching
the black while he crawled on hands and knees to Sandho, who suddenly
raised his head with a start at Joeboy's approach; but on seeing who it
was, he uttered a low whinnying sound and went on cropping the grass
once more, paying no further heed to the black, who proceeded to hobble,
his two fore-legs to keep him from going too far, and then returned to
me.

"No go away now," whispered Joeboy.

"It wasn't necessary," I said.  "I shall watch him."

"Um!" said the black, and then he pointed in the way he intended to go,
laid the shield and two throwing-assagais by me, and then went rapidly
off on all-fours, trotting like a huge black dog.

I watched till he disappeared among the stones between me and the
sentry, and twice I caught sight of him again, or rather, I should say,
of his back; but only for a moment or two, and then he was gone, while I
let my eyes rest again upon the spot where I had last seen the sentry.
Then I watched my horse, and afterwards began to take more note of my
surroundings.

It did not take long.  There were blocks of stone everywhere in the
wildest confusion, and among them here and there great straggling
patches of unwholesome-looking, fleshily-lobed prickly-pears with their
horrible thorns.  Now and then, too, were miserable, dried-up
karroo-bushes, starved among the great blocks above the rich green
hollow where Sandho grazed.  Everywhere else was parched loose red sand,
and beyond rose up the sterile mountains on either side of the pass.

Joeboy knew me better than I knew myself when he hobbled the horse, for
as I sat there watching and thinking how solitary it all was, wondering
how they were getting on at home, and whether the Boers were really in
force by the pass, a pleasant feeling of restfulness came over me, and
the mountains in the distance seemed to grow hazy and of a delicious
blue; the coarse bushes did not look so dry, nor the sickly
prickly-pears so unwholesome and like flat oval cakes of horribly
unwholesome human flesh joined together at their edges; while the little
patch of pasture where Sandho was feeding appeared to be of an
indescribably beautiful tinge of green.

"I wonder how long Joeboy will be," I remember thinking, as I drew my
injured ankle across my right knee and began to rub it softly.  "He
ought to come back soon."

Then I ceased chafing the ankle, for it was very tender, and I wondered
how long it would take to get well again, so that I could leap from
stone to stone as sure-footed as ever.

It was a relief to leave it alone, and I let it glide back till it was
outstretched upon the sand beyond the stones, where it lay resting, and
the pain began to die out.  It was restful, too, for my arms; for as
soon as I began to put any strain upon the muscles a peculiar gnawing
sensation was set up, which was complete torture till I let them lie
inert.

"The brutes!"  I muttered; "they must be half-savages still to treat one
like this; but it was all that wretched renegade's work.  I wonder
whether I shall ever meet him again.  I believe he's a miserable coward.
I'll soon see if I do.  Oh, if I can only get amongst our people, and
join them!"

These thoughts made me feel hot, and I lay back picturing all that had
taken place at our farm; but as the pain in my limbs died down, so did
my rage against the Irish captain, and I began looking round again,
thinking how beautiful the desert place looked, and what effects were
produced among the mountains by the changes in the atmosphere.  Then I
fell to watching Sandho, and then the soft effects grew hazy, and--then
hazier--and very dark, but not so dark but that I could see Joeboy's big
face as he leaned over me and said softly, "Boss Val been asleep?"

"No," I said sharply.

"Um!" whispered Joeboy, laying his hand across my mouth.  "Boer jus'
there.  Lots.  Plenty horses."

"Why, it's night," I said in a whisper as I looked round in wonder.

"Um!"

"Where's Sandho?"

Joeboy nodded his head; and, looking in the direction indicated, I could
just see the shadowy form of my grazing horse, not above eight or ten
feet away.

"Have I been asleep all this time?"  I said, with a strange feeling of
shame troubling me.

"Um!  Plenty sleep," replied Joeboy.  "Now ready?  Come 'long."

"Yes, I'm ready," I said eagerly; "but tell me, have you been up towards
the pass?"

"Um!" he said.  "Plenty Boer.  All dark."

"Do you think we can get through?"

"Um.  Mustn't talk."

He led Sandho forward, and went down on one knee to unfasten the strap
with which the horse was hobbled; then he offered me a leg up, and so
enabled me to spring into the saddle without much difficulty.  The next
minute he was leading the horse in and out among the rocks, Sandho's
hoofs striking a stone with a sharp click; after which he checked the
active little animal, and we stood together listening.  But all was
still, and the night looked as if a black cloud had been drawn across
the sky.

"Nobody can possibly see us," I said half-aloud; "and if they do they'll
think it some of their own people."

"Um!" said Joeboy, and as he said it I knew I was wrong, for I recalled
what I had read, that in time of war sentries challenge, and, failing to
receive the password of the night, fire at once.  It was a startling
thought; but we went on all the same, I for my part feeling I must trust
to my good-luck.

As we got farther in towards the mountains the obscurity increased and
the air grew cooler.  I now began to feel how impossible it would have
been for me to have come alone and found my way in the darkness, for in
a few minutes I was quite helpless; but Joeboy seemed in nowise
confused, and did not hesitate once.  It was as much as I could do to
make out his black head and shoulders, and only at times found that the
nodding ostrich-plumes were bobbing about just in front of me, as their
wearer walked steadily on, holding my horse's head.  So we went on for
nearly an hour, with Joeboy leading Sandho in and out among the great
blocks of stone which strewed our way, keeping him where the sand was
soft by getting well in front, so that the horse's steps were pretty
nearly in his own.  I could make out that we were gradually rising, and
that the rocks towered up to a great height left and right; but though I
rode with every sense upon the strain, I could neither hear nor see sign
of the enemy.

Fortunately the night was cloudy, and I knew it would be long before the
waning moon rose--not, I hoped, till we had been right through the pass.
In fact, as we went steadily on without interruption, I began to
believe the Boer I had seen must have been one of a small outpost placed
there for observation during the daylight, and that they must have
retired at dusk, while I was asleep; for I thought we must now be pretty
well through the highest part of the opening, and had there been any one
there I must have heard a challenge.

I was just about to whisper my opinion to Joeboy when he stopped our
progress and stood holding the horse's head tightly, showing me
something was wrong.  I raised myself in the stirrups to peer forward,
but everything in front was nearly black; and though I listened, holding
my breath, there was not a sound.  Then suddenly a voice from somewhere
above on the right front demanded in Dutch, "Who goes there?"

For answer Joeboy stepped on at once, and for the first time Sandho
kicked against a stone, one of his shoes not only giving out a sharp
_clink_, but striking a spark of fire.

It was as if that spark of fire struck by iron off stone had ignited the
powder in the pan of an old-fashioned gun; for from close at hand there
was a flash, the heavy report, and then a rolling volley of echoes.  I
felt Sandho bound beneath me; but the next moment he was walking
steadily along, following the hand holding his bit, and he paid no more
heed when directly after another shot was fired on ahead, another
behind, and again another and another, raising what seemed to be a
continuous roar of echoes right, left, and in front, to go rolling among
the mountains.

The hot blood flew to my face, and a thrill of excitement ran through me
as I involuntarily cocked the rifle I held across the saddle, sitting
ready to fire at the first enemy who presented himself; in fact, I
nearly drew trigger once, but my common-sense prevailed, as I felt that
we could not be seen, neither could we be heard in the roar of echoes
which took up and magnified the reports.  Joeboy was doing exactly what
was right under the circumstances--going straight on; and, unless we
found a body of men confronting us and stopping our way, or an unlucky
bullet struck one of us, it seemed probable that in a very short time we
should have achieved our purpose.

I had often heard of Echo Nek before, and had some vague idea that if
any one shouted there the tones of his voice would be reverberated from
the face of the cliffs; but I had never realised the true reason as I
did now.

The firing went steadily on, the Boer outpost being evidently under the
impression that their action would drive back the force approaching to
get into their country.  This being so, the reports increased to an
extent that showed plainly enough the presence of a strong body of men,
who had been lying inside the valley, ready to hurry forward to the
defence of the pass upon an alarm being given.

I now began to wonder how it was that we were not seen through some one
of the flashes and hit by bullets sent spattering among the stones among
which we wended our way; but none came near.  Every now and then I heard
a sharp shock against the rock, followed by a pattering downpour of
fragments.  Every shot struck high above our heads, and at the end of a
few minutes, higher still; at which I wondered, till it suddenly
occurred to me that Sandho was not climbing higher and higher up the
pass, but descending.

All this time Joeboy kept steadily on, apparently as unconcerned as if
he were leading the horse home from grazing peacefully away upon the
veldt.

I too began to feel more at my ease, for we had gone on so far that
there was a strong hope that we might be successful, unless there should
prove to be another body lower down the pass.  The next minute, though,
I felt convinced this could not be the case, for if another body were
lower down they would have been firing; or, on second thoughts, I
concluded they must have fired first, since the Boers would never
conclude that a body of men was leaving their territory.

The firing kept on for a few minutes longer, and then suddenly ceased;
while as we proceeded, with Joeboy leading on as fast as Sandho could
walk, we could hear voices behind us; men shouting and answering one
another, though it was impossible to hear what was said; but it seemed
as if they were asking one another what the firing was about, and
whether any one had seen the attacking party.  Of course this is only
what I surmised; but it satisfied me at the time, and I could not help
laughing at the waste of powder and lead occasioned by the harmless
incident of a spark being struck from a stone by a horse's foot.

We were soon, however, satisfied about one thing: that we were not being
pursued; for there was no more firing, and the voices soon died out as
we went steadily on along a rough winding track pretty free from stones.

We must have been carefully making our way onward for about an hour,
when suddenly we walked right into a mist, which made our progress more
difficult, for the great blocks of stone seemed to loom up suddenly
right in our way; and in avoiding these we somehow missed the track,
good proof of which was given me by Joeboy's action; for he suddenly
checked the horse, stooped down, felt about, and ended by lifting a
stone as big as my head and casting it from him.

"Why did you do that, Joeboy?"  I said.

"Boss wait," was the answer, and I waited, to hear the stone strike
directly after, and then keep on striking, as it went on by leaps and
bounds, making me shudder slightly as I grasped the fact that Joeboy had
checked the horse suddenly just on the brink of some precipice, down
which the stone went rolling and plunging till the sounds of its blows
died away along with the echoes it raised.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN.

"What a narrow escape, Joeboy!"  I whispered.

"Um!" he said.  "No good go that way.  Sandho break knees."

"Break his knees?"  I said.  "Yes, I should think he would!  Can you
find the way back to the track?"

"Um!  No.  All thick; all dark.  Come back little way.  Sit down and
wait."

It was good counsel, and I sat fast--rather nervously, though--while
Joeboy backed the horse.  And I had cause for my nervous sensation.  In
fact, what followed proved that, in the darkness and confusion caused by
our ignorance, Joeboy backed the horse along the edge of the precipice
instead of right away from it; for there was a sudden slip, and one of
Sandho's hind-legs went down, making the poor beast give a frantic
plunge which nearly unseated me and drove Joeboy backwards.  Then, as
the horse leaped up again, he made three or four bounds before standing
snorting and trembling; while I heard the rush and rattle of the
dislodged stones as they went hurtling down into the gorge.

"Um!  Mustn't try any more," said Joeboy coolly as he took hold of
Sandho's bridle again, and petted and caressed the poor beast till he
was calm once more.

"He'll stand now," I said, rather huskily, as I mastered a strong desire
to get down.  "Feel round for this edge, Joeboy, and find out which is
the safe way to go."

"Um!" grunted the black; and after giving Sandho a final pat on the
neck, he went down on all-fours and crawled away through the darkness so
silently that at the end of a few minutes I began to feel alarmed,
wondering whether he had made some terrible slip and gone over.

It was vain to argue with myself, for the shock I had received when the
horse slipped had not passed away.  No doubt my previous experiences had
weakened me, and made me less able to fight against what was a very
ordinary trouble for a mountain rider.

Another five minutes passed away--minutes which seemed terribly
prolonged as I sat there in the darkness knowing I dared not stir, and
convinced that we must be upon a projecting bracket of rock whose shape
I could mentally picture, with only one narrow pathway off, and that
hidden by the mist.  At last I could bear it no longer, and, leaning
forward to try and penetrate the darkness beyond the horse's head, I
called twice:

"Joeboy!  Joeboy!"

"Joeboy here, Boss," came from behind me, and I uttered a sigh of relief
as the great fellow seemed to rise up close by and laid his hand upon my
arm.

"Where have you been?"  I said in a querulous, excited way.

"Where, Boss Val say?  Go all round.  Better stop till morning."

"Yes," I said, with a sigh of relief.  "Let's stop till morning.  Here,
help me to get down."

I was obliged to ask for help, for the cold and damp air had made my
injured limbs so stiff and painful that I could hardly move them, and it
required a good strong effort to keep down a groan when I lowered myself
on to my feet, and then gladly sat down upon the damp rock.

I had no fear about Sandho, whose rein had been passed over his head and
allowed to hang down, for he had been trained to stand, and having
grazed for many hours, had no temptation to stir.

Joeboy soon settled himself close to my feet, and then began our long
and painful watching, hour after hour, through a night which seemed as
if it would never end.  I had no desire to question the black, for his
action fully proved to me that our position must be perilous unless we
left the horse to shift for himself, and all this was sufficient to keep
off any desire for sleep; while a whisper from time to time was
sufficient to satisfy myself that my companion was as wakeful as I.  As
the time passed on the mist seemed to thicken around us, with this
peculiarity striking me: it seemed to shut us completely in, so that not
a sound reached our ears, the silence being to me perfectly awful.

At last the morning was heralded by a faint puff or two of chilly air
which came and went again, till at last it settled into a soft breeze,
whose effects were soon apparent.  All at once, as I looked up, a cloud
of mist became visible, then floated away; and as if by magic the sky,
of a soft dark grey, dotted with a faint star or two, came into sight.

Then day began to advance with rapid strides, and I found my notion of
our being upon a bracket of rock was not too far-fetched, for we were
upon a jutting-out promontory of some fifty feet across, from whose
edges the rock went down in places perpendicularly, in others with a
tremendously steep slope, while the way by which we came on was not
above half-a-dozen yards wide.

"You were very wise, Joeboy," I said as I rose to look round.  "It would
have been madness to try leading Sandho off there in the fog."

"Um!" said Joe quietly; and then: "Look!"

He pointed away to our right, and, following his direction, I could here
and there make out the missing path down the pass, winding along in
rough zigzags till lost in the distance.

I was soon in my saddle again, and Joeboy led the horse off the perilous
place where we had passed the night, and then up the pass again for a
couple of hundred yards to where the track had borne off a little to the
right, but where we had kept on through the mist perfectly straight,
with nearly fatal results.

We looked anxiously up now as we turned off into the proper track, fully
expecting to see outposts of the Boers who had fired as we crossed the
head; but none were visible.  So we began to descend as rapidly as we
could, but only at a walk, for the track was terribly rough.

It was only very gradually that the valley began to open out, our way at
times being along the stony bed of a mountain torrent; while right and
left the sides of what looked like a tremendous rift in the mountain,
split open in some terrific convulsion of nature, towered up.

We went along cheerily, for every yard carried us farther from risk of
capture by the Boers; and once we were well clear of the pass a couple
of days would, I felt sure, place us safely in the land of my countrymen
with whom the Boers were at war.

"How soon shall we stop and have breakfast, Joeboy?"  I said as we were
passing through a perfect chaos of great stones which now hemmed us in
front and back.  "No fear of seeing any Boers now."

The words had hardly left my lips when Sandho stopped short, and uttered
a sharp challenging neigh, which was answered from some distance in
front; and directly after, as I turned my horse sharply to get under the
cover of a huge block we had just passed, there came the loud clattering
of hoofs and a shout, as a party of some five-and-twenty well-mounted
horsemen cantered out to bar the way.

"Then they are there," I muttered as I swung Sandho round again.  Joeboy
laid his left hand on the saddle, and away we cantered forward to
circumvent, if possible, the party in front whose horse had answered
Sandho's challenge.

The men behind yelled to us to stop.  We paid no heed, but, regardless
of the stones, cantered on, Joeboy taking them at a stride in company
with Sandho's bounds.

The next minute I was looking upon fully twenty mounted riflemen right
across our path, and a glance right and left showed me that any attempt
to get round them would be an act of madness, for no horse could pass.

I turned in my saddle and looked back, to find that the party there were
closing in upon us; and for a moment I felt ready to turn Sandho and go
at them at full gallop, so as to try and cut my way through.  I saw,
however, this would be a greater risk than going in the other direction.

"It's of no use, Joeboy," I said hoarsely; "we're trapped."

"Boss Val going to fight?" he said inquiringly, and as he asked his
question he fitted his long, elliptical shield well upon his left arm
and arranged his assagais handy for throwing.

"Two against all those, Joeboy?  No; it would be folly."

There was no time for more words, for the party which had remained in
hiding till we had passed were closing in fast; and then a couple of
young men suddenly darted out from those in front, set spurs to their
horses, and seemed to race at us, leaping the stones in their way
steeplechase fashion.

In almost less time than I take to describe it, one of them, a
good-looking, frank young fellow in an officer's uniform, rose in his
stirrups and made a snatch at my arm; but, in answer to a touch of the
heel, Sandho leaped forward, and my would-be captor passed me, riding on
several horse-lengths before he could turn and come at me again; while,
by a quick leap aside, Joeboy avoided the man who came at him, and stood
with his back to a great stone, with his assagai raised to strike.

"Surrender, you Dutch scoundrel!" roared my antagonist, drawing his
sword, "or I'll cut you down."

"Dutch scoundrel yourself, you ugly idiot of a Boer!"  I cried as
angrily, and I brought my rifle to bear upon him, holding it like a
pistol.

"Here, don't shoot," cried my adversary.  "You don't talk like a Boer."

"Why should I?" said I.  "But you're not a Dutchman--are you?"

"Hardly," he said, with a laugh.

"What are you, then?"

"Making a mistake, it seems," he replied.

"But your people are Boers?"

"They're going to beat them," he replied, "as soon as they get a chance.
Have you seen them up the Nek yonder?"

"Yes; I was running away from them.  They were shooting at us last
night."

"Hi; Robsy!  Steady there!" roared my new acquaintance.  "Steady, I say!
Friends.--You, Black Jack, put down that spear, or it'll be the worse
for you.--It's all right, sir," he continued as a grey-haired,
military-looking man now rode up, followed by half-a-dozen more.  "This
is an Englishman running away from the Boers."

"Then he's not an Englishman," said the officer sharply.  "Here, arrest
this man.--Now then, give an account of yourself, for you look
confoundedly like a spy.  Here, some one, cut that black fellow down if
he resists."

"Be quiet, Joeboy," I cried; "these are friends."

Joeboy dropped into a peaceable attitude and stood scowling at the
horsemen who surrounded us.

"Now, sir," said the officer, "why don't you speak?"

"Because you called me a spy," I said.

"Well, that seems to be what you are, you young scoundrel.  How many of
your friends are there up yonder?"

"I don't know," I said.

"Say `sir' when you speak to a gentleman," cried the officer angrily,
"and no nonsense.  Speak out--the truth if you don't want to be shot."

"Of course I don't want to be shot," I said scornfully; "and I'm not in
the habit of telling lies."

"How many Boers are there, then, up in the pass?"

"I don't know," I said.  "We crept by them in the dark."

"Why?  To come and see what forces we had here?"

"No," I said.

"Then why did you come?"

"To get away from the Boers."

"Why did you want to get away from them?" cried the officer, gazing at
me searchingly.

I was so hot and indignant that I would not speak for some little time.

"I thought so.  Making up a good story--eh?  You've caught the first
spy, Lieutenant."

"No, sir, I think not," said the young officer.

"I think you have.--Now, sir," he continued, "if you wish to save your
skin, speak out.  Why did you want to get away from the Boers?"

"Because I was commandoed," I said rather sulkily.

"Oh, then you were afraid to fight--eh?"

"No; but I was not going to fight my own countrymen."

"Oh!" said the officer, staring.  "Here, tell me, how were you
summoned?"

I told him, and that the party was led by an Irishman named Moriarty.

"Ah! yes, I know him.  Tall, handsome, dashing young Irish cavalier--
isn't he?"

"No," I said; "a middle-aged, bullying, ruffianly sort of a fellow, with
a red nose," I replied.

"Humph!  Then where do you come from?"

"Cameldorn Farm."

"Eh?  Hullo!" cried the young man who had captured me.  "I say, take off
your hat."

"What for?"  I asked.

"Because I want to look at you.  How's that scratch you got on the arm
from the lioness?"

"What do you know about the scratch?"  I said, leaning forward to look
the speaker full in the eyes.

"Why, only that I shot her.  What's your name?  Of course, Val."

"Mr Denham!"  I cried in astonishment.

"That's your humble servant, sir."

"But you've got a beard now," I cried, holding out my hand.  "Oh, I say,
I am glad to see you!"

"The same here, Val, my lad.  I say, how you've grown!  Here, Colonel,
it's all right.  I'll answer for this fellow.  Why, Val, you were
commandoed, and cutting away?"

"Yes," I cried excitedly.  "Here, Joeboy, this is Boss Denham."

"Um!" ejaculated the black, showing his teeth.

"I was running away from the Boers so as not to serve, Mr Denham," I
said eagerly, for I wanted to wipe off the slurs of coward and spy.

"Well, quite right, my lad," said the Lieutenant.  "But what were you
going to do?"

"Get into Natal, sir, and join the Light Horse."

"Well done!" laughed the Colonel, clapping me on the back; "then you've
regularly fallen upon your legs, my lad.  That your horse?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," he cried, looking me over, "and you ride him well.  We're the
Light Horse.  I'm the Colonel, at your service, and I accept you at once
as a recruit."

"You can go through the swearing-in business some other time, Val," said
the Lieutenant.  "Now then, are the Boers in force and coming down the
pass?"

I told him all I knew, and the Colonel laughed.

"You've seen a sentry and heard a few shots fired, my lad," he said.
"Why, you're not worth calling a spy."

"Am I one of the Light Horse now, sir?"  I said eagerly.

"Certainly."

"Then send me back up to the Nek, and I'll try and prove myself a better
one."

"I'll send you up, sir," said the Colonel stiffly, "with a vidette, to
feel for the enemy and try to draw him out; but we don't call members of
the Light Horse spies.  If you go on such an adventure it will be a
reconnaissance."

I felt humbled, and was silent.

"This is an old friend of yours, then, Denham?" continued the Colonel.

"Oh yes," replied the Lieutenant.  "His father, Mr Moray, was a most
kindly host to me during a long shooting expedition, and I am very glad
to have his son with us.  I hope, sir, you will place him in the same
troop as I am."

"Certainly," said the Colonel, who then turned to me in a frank, bluff
way, and held out his hand.

"Glad to have you with us, Mr Moray," he said; "and I beg your pardon
for being so rough with you.  Your appearance was a bit suspicious,
though.  But what about this black fellow?"

"He is my servant, sir," I replied.

"Humph!  But we can't allow privates in this corps to bring their
servants.  It is not a picnic nor a shooting expedition."

Some one who heard these words cried "Oh!" loudly.

"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," said the Colonel, smiling; "it is.  I
should have said this is not a hunting expedition.  We all have to rough
it."

"I beg pardon, Colonel," said Lieutenant Denham, giving me a quick look.
"Private Moray meant to say the black had been the servant at his home.
I had forgotten the man.  I remember him now.  He was a good hunter and
manager of the bullock-wagon we took up the country."

"Yes, sir," I said eagerly; "and most useful in all ways."

"Be able to forage a little for game--eh--if we run short of food?"

"Oh, yes, sir!"  I cried.

"That will do, then; let him stay with us."

Joeboy was straining his ears to catch every word, and I saw his face
light up as he caught my eye, and he gave his assagai a flourish.

"Yes," said the Colonel dryly, for he had had his eye upon the big
athletic black; "but tell him that he must obey orders, and not be
getting up any fighting upon his own account."

"He'll obey me, sir," I said, speaking so that Joeboy could hear; and he
looked at me and nodded.

"That incident is over, then," said the Colonel sharply.  "Now, Mr
Denham, take a dozen men and continue the advance.  We know now the
meaning of last night's firing; but see what you can find out about the
strength of the party holding the pass.  Be careful of your party.  We
are good shots; but recollect they are better, and I want information,
not to see you bring back half-a-dozen wounded men."

"I'll be careful, sir;" and ten minutes later, to my surprise and
delight at the way in which my position had altered during the last
half-hour, I was riding close behind Lieutenant Denham, while, proud of
his position, Joeboy was on in front, his knowledge of the pass we had
just descended being most valuable at such a time, the probabilities
tending to point out that he might be able to get well up to right or
left of the track and gain a pretty good idea of the strength of the
Boers without drawing a shot, whereas the sight of the horsemen, we
felt, would have been the signal for a shower of bullets.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

INTO THE FIRE.

"What about breakfast?  Have you had any?" said Denham.

"No," I replied; "but I have some with me;" and taking out a portion of
what was left over from the previous afternoon, I proceeded to make up
for what was lacking, eating with the better appetite for seeing that
Joeboy was busy over one of the big sandwiches provided for him by Aunt
Jenny.

This done, I seemed to forget my injuries, and rode on with the little
troop, watching the agile way in which Joeboy made his way forward, well
in advance and showing no sign of fear.

Mounted men advancing up the rugged pass had very little chance of
keeping themselves concealed.  Here and there a bend in the narrow
valley helped us; but there was always the knowledge that, if the enemy
were in force up by the neck of the pass, they had plenty of niches
among the mountains on either side to which they could climb and watch
us till well within range of their rifles, when shot after shot and puff
after puff of white smoke would appear, with very different effect, I
felt, from those fired in the darkness of the past night's scare.

All this was very suggestive of danger; but somehow I did not feel
alarmed.  There was too much excitement in the business, and I was
flushed with a feeling of triumph at being so soon in a position to
retaliate upon the people who had used me so ill.

I rode on, then, for some distance behind my officer, as I now began to
consider him, till the valley opened out, and he reined up a little to
allow me to come alongside, so that he could question me about the track
higher up.  I told him all I could, and endeavoured to impress upon him
that it would be a very bad position for his men if the Boers sighted
them.

"You would find the ground so bad and encumbered with rough stones," I
said, "that it would be impossible to gallop back."

"But we don't want to gallop back," he said, with a laugh.  "That's all
capital about the bad road, and sounds sensible as a warning; but you
must not talk about galloping back.  If the enemy does show we shall
dismount and use our rifles, retiring slowly from cover to cover.  But
you'll soon know our ways in the Light Horse."

"I hope so," I said; "but of course I am no soldier yet, and very
ignorant."

"Not of the use of your rifle, Val, my lad," he said.  "I used to envy
you."

"Oh, nonsense!"  I said.  "Of course I could shoot a bit.  My father
began to teach me very early."

"I don't believe I can shoot so well now as you did two years ago, when
we went up the country.  I don't know what you can do now.  Why, Val, I
expect you'll soon prove yourself to be a better soldier than any of us,
for our drill is precious rough; but we are improving every day."

"You have been farther up than this?"  I said, to change the
conversation, which was making me, a lad accustomed only to our solitary
farm-life, feel awkward and uncomfortable, with a suspicion that my
companion was bantering me.

"No," he replied; "only about a hundred yards farther than where we met
this morning."

"Then you'll find the riding worse than you expect."

"Well, it will be practice," he said.  "But I say, how that nigger of
yours scuffles along!  He's leaving us quite behind."

"He is sure-footed and accustomed to the rocks," I said as I watched
Joeboy, who was getting higher and higher up the precipice to our left,
as well as higher up the pass.  "He wants to get up to where he can look
over the Boers' position."

"He had better mind," said Denham.  "You ought to have taken away those
bits of vanity before he went into action."

"What bits of vanity?"  I said.

"Those white ostrich-feathers.  They make him stand out so clear to a
shooter.  Ah! he's down."

Just then Joeboy was seen to drop forward right out of sight.

"No," I said; "that was one of his jumps;" and I spoke confidently, for
I had often seen him make goat-like leaps when we had been out shooting
among the hills.

"You're wrong," said my companion confidently.  "Poor fellow! let's get
level with the place where he tumbled.  I'm sure that was a fall."

"Wait a few minutes," I said, "and you'll see him perhaps a hundred
yards farther on."

I proved to be quite right, for we soon saw Joeboy climbing steadily on
just as I had said, and he kept on getting higher and higher till we
were up to the spot where I had passed so unpleasant a night.

"My word, you did have a bad time of it!  Why, if you had gone over
there it would have killed this beautiful little horse of yours."

"Then I shouldn't have found the Light Horse," I said quietly; but I
couldn't help feeling a bit of a shiver as I gazed at the depth below
where we had stopped.

After that, as we rode on, keeping a good lookout, I began to ask a few
questions about the war which had so suddenly broken out and come like a
surprise upon us at our quiet and retired home.

"Oh," said my companion, "it is only what many people expected.  The
Boers have never been satisfied about being under England.  Plenty of
them are sensible enough, and think that the proper thing to do is to
attend to their farms and grazing cattle; but there are a set of
discontented idiots among them who have stirred them up with a lot of
political matter, telling them they are slaves of England's tyrannical
rule, and that it is time to strike for their freedom, till they have
believed that they are ill-treated.  So now they have risen, and say
that they are going to drive all the Rooineks, as they call us English,
into the sea, quite forgetting that if we had not helped them the savage
tribes around them would have overrun their country and turned them
out."

"Will they drive us into the sea?"  I asked.

"What do you think?" said Denham, with a laugh.  "Do you think we are
the sort of people to let a party of rough farmers turn us out of Natal,
just because they have been stirred up to fight by a gang of political
adventurers?  Is your father going to give up his farm that he has spent
years of his life in making out of the wilderness?"

"What?"  I cried angrily.  "No!  I should think not."

"Well, that's bringing it home to you, my lad.  I said your father's
farm.  His is only one instance."

"It isn't as if we wanted to turn the Boers out," I said.

"Of course not.  All we want is for them to behave like peaceable
neighbours, and obey the laws.  They want what they call freedom, which
is as good as saying that English laws make people slaves.  We don't
feel much like slaves--do we?"

"Is that the reason they are at war with us?"

"Something of that kind," said the Lieutenant, "as far as I understand
it.  All politics, and they are the most quarrelsome things in the
world.  People are always fighting about them somewhere."

"But--" I began.

"Oh, don't ask me," said my companion; "that's as much as I understand
about it.  All I say is that it's a great pity people should be shooting
at one another over what ought to be settled by a bit of talk.  But, I
say, look out.  What does that mean?  Halt!"

The men drew rein on the instant, as I looked forward, expecting to see
a puff of white smoke ahead, for Joeboy suddenly dropped down behind a
block of stone high up in front, and from there began to make signals,
just as if he were out in rough ground with me on the veldt and had
sighted game.

"He has seen the Boers," I said excitedly.  "Look!  He says there are
hundreds of them."

"No, he doesn't," said my companion gruffly; "he's only flourishing his
arms about like a windmill gone mad."

"But that's his way of signalling a big herd of game," I said, "and--"

Before I could say more, _puff, puff, puff_ arose the tiny white clouds
of smoke, followed by the cracking of the rifles, taken up by the echoes
till there was a continuous roar; while _phit, phit, phit_, bullets
began to drop about us, striking the stones, and others passed overhead
with an angry buzz like so many big flies.

"Retire!" shouted my companion.  "It's of no use to waste ammunition.
They're in strong force up yonder.--Here, you, Moray, what are you
about?"

"Nothing," I said sternly; "only looking for my man."

"But didn't you hear my order?" shouted Denham; and before I could do
anything to prevent him he caught Sandho's rein and put spurs to his
horse.

"Don't do that," I cried angrily.  "I can't go and leave my poor fellow
in the lurch.  I'm afraid he's hit."

"I can't stop here and have my little troop shot down on account of your
black."

"But--"

"Come on, sir!" shouted Denham; "obey orders.  Here, you're a pretty
rough sort of a pup for me to lick into shape," he added, in a friendly
way, as he trotted back amongst the stones.  "Recollect you're a soldier
now, without any will of your own.  You hand everything over to your
officer, and obey him, whether it's to ride forward into the enemy's
fire or to retire."

"But it's horrible to leave that poor fellow to his fate," I said.

"More horrible to lose the lives of the party of men entrusted to me.
Look here, my lad; it's an officer's duty never to throw away a man.  If
he is obliged to spend a few to carry some point, that's war and
necessary; but to dash them bull-headed against double odds to gain
nothing is folly."

"But I can't go on.  Let me stay back and try and help him," I said
passionately.

"Certainly not.  Be sensible.  Look here: you don't know that he's hit."

"But he dropped from behind that stone."

"Yes; but that may be his dodge.  Perhaps he's gliding back under cover
from stone to stone."

"Perhaps," I said bitterly.  "Look here: if this is your way of going to
work I've had enough of soldiering."

I rode on unwillingly, expecting to hear a furious tirade from my
companion, who still held my rein; but he was silent for a few minutes,
while the bullets kept on spattering and whizzing about us without
hitting any one.

"So you're tired of soldiering--are you?" said Denham at last.

"Yes," I said hotly.  "I never felt such a coward before."

"Rubbish!  Look here: you want me to expose my little detachment to the
fire of that strongly-posted crowd of Boers, and get half of them shot
down, so as to try and pick up your servant."

"No, I don't," I replied sharply.  "There's plenty of cover here.  I
should have got the men behind some of these blocks of stone and
returned the fire, so as to keep the enemy in check while I sent two men
dismounted to try and bring my man--our guide--in, alive or dead."

"Humph!" said my companion shortly.  "Why, I begin to think you are a
better soldier than I am;" and, to my intense surprise, he halted the
party behind a huge block which divided our way, dismounted half, and
sent them out right and loft to seek cover from whence they could reply
to the enemy's fire.  Then he turned to me.

"You must hold two horses," he said.  "I'll send two fellows to steal up
the gap from stone to stone to try and pick up your man."

"No, no," I said excitedly.  "I'll go alone."

"Suppose you find him wounded, or--"

"Dead?"  I said, finishing his sentence.

"Yes: you couldn't carry him in."

"No," I said, with a sigh.  "I'm lame still from the injury to my foot.
It hurts me so badly at times that I can hardly ride."

"Hurrah!" came from the right, and the cheer was taken up from the left,
while _crack, crack, crack_, rifles were being brought well into play.

"What does that mean?" said Denham.  "Have they brought down one of the
Dutchmen?"

He pressed his horse's sides and rode out from behind the great stone,
while I followed him, to learn directly what was the meaning of the
cheering.  It was plain enough, for there, about five hundred yards up
the narrow pass, was Joeboy coming after us at a quick run, dodging
round the great stones, and pretty well contriving to keep them between
him and the enemy, whose rifles kept on spitting bullets fiercely after
him.

It was as Denham had suggested.  Joeboy had leaped down from behind the
stone as soon as he had drawn the enemy's fire, then started to follow
us, running the gauntlet of their bullets, and reaching us in a very
short time, flushed, triumphant, and very little out of breath.

"Well," cried Denham, "see the Boers?"

"Um!" replied Joeboy.

"Were there a great many of them?"  I said eagerly, as I sat hoping the
poor fellow did not give me the credit of forsaking him in a cowardly
way.

For answer he held up both hands with fingers and thumbs outspread;
dropped them, and raised them once more; and would have kept on for long
enough if I had not checked him.

"You see," I said to Denham, "they are in great force up there."

"Yes, and no wonder," was the reply, "for it's a very strong position.
Now then, all here, and forward once more."

The men ran back into the rallying-place as quickly as so many rabbits,
mounted, and once more we were in full retreat, with Joeboy trotting
beside my horse holding on to the stirrup-iron, while Denham kept coming
to me, to talk.

"Just to give you a few lessons in the art of war," he said, with his
eyes twinkling and a laugh beginning to show at their corners.  "There,
you see we have done exactly what the Colonel wanted us to do: made a
regular reconnaissance and drawn the enemy's fire, proving that he is
holding the pass.  What the old man will do now remains to be seen.  He
won't go up here with us to try and dislodge them, but will try, I
expect, to lure them down into the open somewhere, so as to give us a
chance at them."

"They'll be too cunning," I said.  "They fight only from behind stones,
and in holes."

"Yes, they're cunning enough," said Denham; "but, like all over-clever
people, they make mistakes, or find others quite as cunning.  Look here:
you'll have to propose some dodge to the Colonel to coax them out to
give us a chance."

"I propose a plan to the Colonel?"

"Yes.  Why not?" said Denham, laughing.  "You've begun your soldiering
by teaching me, and--Oh!"

He uttered a sharp cry, and clapped his right hand round to his back.

"What is it?"  I said excitedly.  "Not hit?"

"Yes, I've got it," he muttered.  "Just look.  It hurts horribly.  I
say, though, that's a good sign--eh?"

The men halted involuntarily behind the stones, and Denham bravely kept
his seat till all were under cover, when, refusing to dismount, he
slipped off his bandolier and began to unbutton his tunic.

"You had better let us help you down," I suggested.

"No; I don't feel bad enough," he said through his teeth, speaking
viciously as if in great pain.  "I don't think I'm much hurt.  See any
blood?"

"No," I replied as he threw off his tunic and laid it across his horse's
neck.  "Here, look.  That's it.  All! there it lies."  For I had made a
snatch at a long-shaped bullet, missed it twice, and then sat pointing
out where it had fallen.  Joeboy snatched it up and handed it to me.

"Humph!" said Denham; "then it hasn't gone through me, or it would have
fallen from my back."

"Instead of your chest," I said.  "It must have been partly spent with
the long distance it travelled."

"I wish it had been quite spent," said Denham through his teeth, "Oh,
what a fuss I'm making about such a trifle!  Nothing worse than having a
stone thrown at one."

"It's gone right through the back of your jacket," said one of the men.
"Look, there's quite a big hole."

"It has not broken the skin," I said, examining his back.

"No, of course not.  Here, give me that jacket again, you.  Let's get it
on.  This is all waste of time."

He winced a good deal and looked very white; but he bravely mastered his
feeling of faintness, and struggled once more into his tunic, suffering
greatly, as I could see by the pallor breaking through his sun-browned
skin.

"Stings a bit," he said to me as he fastened the buttons; "but it might
have been worse--eh, Val?  I always was a thick-skinned fellow, and it
turns out lucky now.  How far is the nearest skirmisher?"

"A good thousand yards, I should say," I replied.

"Good, and no mistake, for the distance has saved me, Val, my lad.  But
what's that: over half a mile--eh?  Not bad shooting, and shows they
must have good rifles, bless 'em!  Now then, hand me that
cartridge-belt, and I should be glad if you'd pass it over my head, for
I'm not very ready to move."

"You will have to let the doctor see the place," I said as I extended
the bandolier so as to pass it over his head.

"Doctor?  Faugh!  What do I want with a doctor for this?  I'm going to
keep quiet, my lad, or the doctor and the Colonel between them will be
wanting to invalid me."

"Oh!"  I exclaimed sharply.

"Hullo!" he cried.  "Don't say you've got it too, lad!"

"No, no.  Look here," I said, and I held out the cartridge-belt to show
where a case was flattened--the brass exterior and the bullet within--
while the spring-like holder was broken, and the leather beneath sprayed
with lead.

"What's the matter?" said Denham, looking round, and wincing with pain
as he changed his position.

"It was no spent bullet that struck you," I said, dragging out the
damaged cartridge.  "You have the bullet in its brass case to thank for
saving your life.  Look how they're flattened."

He took the bolt in his fingers, and then held them out, examining all
carefully without a word.

"Humph!" he ejaculated at last.  "That was a narrow escape.  I think I
shall save that flattened bullet.  Not the sort of thing a man would
choose for a back-plate, but it did its work.  Yes, I must save that
flattened bit and the bullet the Boer shot.  They'll be worth taking out
of a drawer some day to show people, if we got safe through the war.
There, I'm all right now.  Attention!  March!"

The firing had ceased as he gave the orders, the first word in a sharp
military way, the second with a catching gasp, and he fell over
sidewise.  Fortunately I was close upon his left and caught him in my
arms, which were none too strong or ready for such a task; but I managed
to hold him tightly clasped round the chest as his horse moved off and
his legs sank to the ground.  A couple of the men drew rein and
dismounted directly to come to my help, they taking him from my arms to
lay him upon the stony ground.

"Fainted," I said, dismounting painfully.  "Who has a water-bottle?"

One was produced directly, and I was busily bathing the poor fellow's
face and trying to trickle a little water between his lips, when we
became painfully aware of the fact that we had moved out from cover, for
_spat, spat, spat_, three bullets struck stones near us, making it
evident that we were well in view, and that the Boers were making
targets of the different members of the group.  This was remedied
directly; but in spite of the shaking he received in being moved to the
rear of the biggest stone, Denham did not open his eyes, but lay there
perfectly insensible; while, to add to our difficulties, one of our men,
who had retaken their places in cover, to be ready to reply to the fire
if a favourable opportunity presented itself, announced that the enemy
was steadily advancing down the pass, and evidently with the intention
of clearing it of the party of cavalry which had entered between its
barren walls.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

REALITIES OF WAR.

I glanced round at the little group of men, every face wearing the same
serious aspect; then I lowered my eyes to continue my task of trying to
restore Denham to his senses, while the moments glided by, and many
shots were fired at our position; yet there was no change in the
officer's condition.

"He isn't dead--is he?" said one of the troopers.  "Dead?  No!"  I cried
angrily; but even as I spoke a chill of horror ran through me, for the
utterly inanimate state of my new friend suggested that the shock of the
blow might have been fatal.

"But he doesn't seem to have a spark of life in him, poor chap!"

"He'll recover soon," I said as firmly as I could, and determined to put
the best face upon the matter.

"But we can't wait for `soon,'" cried another man impatiently.  "In less
than a quarter of an hour the Doppers will be down upon us, and then
it's either a bullet apiece or prisoners."

"We must carry him down to where the Colonel is with the rest of the
troopers," I said.  "No, no.  Set him on a horse."

"He can't possibly sit a horse," I said firmly; "and if you put him on
one it will take two men to keep him in his place."

"We can't spare them," cried the first man who had spoken.  "We want all
our rifles to be speaking as we retire."

Just then a thought struck me.

"He must be carried," I said.

"It can't be done, sir," was the reply.  "The men can't be spared.  One
of us must have him in front of the saddle as we retreat."

"No, no," I said.  "Here, wait a minute.--Joeboy!"  I shouted, and,
shield and assagai in hand, the black dashed to my side as if to defend
me from some attack.

"Can you carry this officer on your back down the valley, Joeboy?"  I
said.

"Um!" was the prompt reply.  "You take my spears."

"Yes.  Hang them to my saddle," I said.  "Quick!"

The next minute I helped to raise the insensible man carefully on to the
black's broad back as he bent down on one knee, Denham's arms being
placed round Joeboy's neck; and then, at his request, the wrists were
bound together with a sash.

"Now," I said, "can you do it?"

"Um!" was the reply; and, without a word being uttered by way of order,
the man rose softly to his feet and set off at a slow, steady walk down
towards the little force of mounted rifles waiting, a couple of miles or
so away, to receive our news.

No sooner were we well out of the cover which had sheltered us than the
firing increased, showing that our movements were under observation; but
the pattering shots, which seemed to strike every spot save where we
moved at a pace regulated by Joeboy's steady walk, had no effect upon
the discipline of the little party.  The sergeant, a middle-aged man,
like a Cornish farmer, now took the command.  He ordered half the party
to follow close after their wounded officer, and halted the second half,
who stood dismounted and covered by their horses, to reply to the
enemy's fire.

Instead of checking the shots, our reply seemed only to increase them;
but we had the satisfaction of knowing that the fire was concentrated
upon us, and that Lieutenant Denham and his bearer were running no risk
of being brought down.  This was kept up for fully ten minutes, during
which our friends had got some distance.  Then the order was given to
mount; and, giving our horses their heads, we went in single file
clattering along the stone-strewn and often slippery track, followed by
a scattered shower of bullets, horribly badly aimed, for we had taken
our enemies by surprise.

We could not go very fast; but the pace was fast enough to overtake our
companions soon, who formed up under the best cover they could find,
leaving us room to pass and ride on to where Joeboy trudged manfully on,
and then draw rein and walk our horses, listening to the pattering of
the Doppers' bullets and the steady and regular reply of our men.

"Has he moved or spoken, Joeboy?"  I said anxiously as I rode alongside.

"Um!" replied Joeboy.

"'Fraid he gone dead, Boss Val."

"No, no!"  I said, laying my hand against Denham's neck.  "I believe he
is only stunned.  Are you getting tired?"

"Um!" growled the great black.  It seemed wonderful what expression he
could put into that one ejaculation, which sounded now as if he were
saying, "Tired?  No: I could go on like this till dark."

I said no more, but fell back into my place, where I found the next man
eager enough to talk.

"They brag about the Boers' shooting; but I don't think much of it, nor
of ours neither, if you come to that.  I don't wish any harm to them who
made all this trouble; but I should like for our boys to bring down a
man at every shot.  It would bring some of the rest to their senses.  I
say, you don't think young Mr Denham's going home, do you?"

"No," I said sharply.  "I think he only wants getting on to a bed, to
lie till the shock of his hurt has passed away."

"Yes, that's it," said the trooper; "bed's a grand thing for nearly
everything.  I never knew how grand it was till I came on this business
and had to sleep out here on the stones.  You haven't begun to find out
what it is to be away from your bed at times."

"I've slept out on the veldt or up in a kopje scores of times," I
replied, "and have grown used to it."

"Oh!" said my companion, glancing at me to see if I was telling the
truth.  Then, apparently satisfied, he continued: "I wish those who made
this war had to do all the fighting.  I'm sick of it."

"Already?"  I said.

"Yes; I was sick of it before we began to hit out.  What's the sense of
it?  Here am I, five-and-twenty, hale, hearty, and strong, trying to get
shot.  But of course one had to come.  I mean to make some of them pay
for it, though."

"But you volunteered."

"Of course.  I say, though, I don't wonder at you making a run for it.
Nice game to have to fight on the enemy's side!  I should like that--oh
yes, very much indeed!  My rifle would have gone off by accident
sometimes and hit the wrong man.  I say, though, oughtn't the Colonel to
hear all this firing, and come up to help us?"

"That's what I've been thinking," I replied.  "I should be very glad if
we saw him on ahead.  But we must have a couple of miles to go yet to
join them--mustn't we?"

"Yes, quite that; but, my word!" cried my companion, "they're going it
now.  They're firing shots enough to bring down every one of our
rear-guard."

"Yes; and it will be our turn again directly, when they trot on."

"They ought to be here by now," continued my new comrade.  "I don't
believe they'll come."

"Why?"  I said anxiously.

"They'll all be shot down."

"Nonsense," I said.  "Listen; those are their rifles replying."

"I suppose so," was the reply, given thoughtfully.  "But what a strange
echo the hills give back here!"

"Yes," I said.  "That's why it's called Echo Nek."

"I suppose so; but--but--Here, I say, those are not echoes we can hear
now."

"Nonsense!  What can they be, then?"

"Some one else firing.  Can't you hear?  It sounds from right in front."

"Well, that's how echoes do sound.  The reports come down the pass and
strike against the face of the rocks, and are reflected off."

"That's all very nicely put, comrade," said the young man, "and I dare
say it's scientific and `all according to Cocker,' as my father used to
say; but you're not going to make me believe those are echoes we can
hear right in front.  Now, you listen."

I did as he suggested, and the rattling of the Boers' rifles came
plainly enough, their many reverberations, as the reports seemed to
strike from side to side, almost drowning the feeble replies of our own
men.  Then, after a perceptible pause, fresh reports were heard, and
certainly these seemed to come from some distance away in front.

"There!" cried my companion triumphantly.  "What do you say to that?"

"That the shots echo again from some high hills in front."

"Boss Val," cried Joeboy just then, and I touched Sandho with my heels,
making him spring on to where the big black was straining his neck to
look back, but trudging steadily on all the while.

"What is it, Joeboy?"  I said anxiously.  "Has he moved or spoken?"

"Um!  Not said a word; but some one shooting over-over."

He nodded his head in the direction we were going, and now I grasped the
fact that I had before doubted--namely, that firing was going on in our
front.

I drew the sergeant's attention to it directly, and he nodded.

"That settles it at once," he said.  "Here have I been telling myself it
was all my fancy; but now you hear it I feel it must be fact."

"I hear it; so does my man, and the trooper who rides next to me."

"Yes; and we can all hear it now," said the Sergeant.  "Well, it's plain
enough.  We're in a tight place, my lad, for there's only one answer to
it, and it explains why the Colonel hasn't sent us some support, for he
must have heard the firing."

"What do you make of it, then?"

"That the Doppers are better soldiers than we give them credit for
being, and they've got round to the Colonel's rear somehow, and shut him
in this giant hogs'-trough of a valley."

"Think so?"  I said anxiously, as I thought of the Lieutenant.

"I'm sure of it.  Now then; that's not our business.  Halt!  Right
about!  Take position behind those stones.  Dismount and cover the
retreat.  Here they come."

The clatter of the horses of the other party came plainly to our ears as
we took our places ready to reply to the Boers' fire.  I had intended to
have another look at the wounded man before this took place, and was
therefore much disappointed; but there was no help for it, and I stood
with Sandho fairly well sheltered behind a stone five feet high, upon
which my rifle rested.  Then the party we were to relieve cantered by,
with two men wounded and supported on their horses; and as I watched the
puffs of smoke and listened to the bullets spattering and splaying the
rocks, with the buzz of the high shots now sounding so familiar, I
wondered at being able to take it all so coolly.

"I suppose it's because I'm beginning to get used to it," I thought.
Then I began to speculate as to what would happen now if the sergeant
was right, and we were to be attacked front and rear; and what it would
feel like if I were hit, as seemed very likely now that the enemy were
getting so near.  But I glanced right and left at my companions, just in
time, to see the Sergeant start back, to stand shaking his right hand
vigorously, and directly after I saw the blood beginning to drip from
his finger-ends.

"Much hurt?"  I asked, hurrying to his side, dragging out my
handkerchief the while.

"No!" he roared; "only a scratch.  Back to your place, sir!  Who told
you to leave?  Here; stop!  As you are here you may as well tie that rag
round it."

He said these last words more gently, and smiled as I rapidly bound up
his injury as well as I could.

"Thank ye, my lad," he said.  "I must preserve discipline, and we're
getting pressed.  Taken off a bit of the middle finger--hasn't it?"

"Half of it, I'm afraid," I said.

"What have you got to be afraid of?  Might have been worse.  Suppose it
had been the first finger; then I shouldn't have been able to draw
trigger--eh?  That'll do--won't it?  I'm in a hurry."

"I haven't stopped the bleeding," I replied.

"Never mind.  Mother Nature will soon do that.  Now then, back you go.
Show them how you young farmers can shoot."

I was on my way back to my place when the clattering of hoofs made me
turn my head, and I saw a man in the Light Horse uniform come galloping
up, utterly regardless of the danger he ran from obstructing stones.

"Back!" he shouted.  "Retire on the main body as fast as you can go.
Colonel's orders."

We were in full retreat at once, after emptying our rifles upon the
steadily advancing enemy, who came on, running from stone to stone,
cleverly taking advantage of every bit of cover.  We soon came in sight
of the men we had relieved, who were hurrying to the rear as fast as
they could get their wounded men along; while, to my great satisfaction,
there was Joeboy striding along at a tremendous rate: it was a walk, but
such a walk as would have compelled me to trot to keep up with him.  He
could not have kept it up much longer, I could see, for the perspiration
was streaming down his face and neck, and he was breathing hard; but at
the end of another quarter of a mile, as the firing in front grew louder
and louder, I saw about a couple of dozen of the troopers coming to our
help, four of whom dismounted, giving up their horses to comrades, and
quickly spreading a blanket upon the ground.

It struck me at once that Joeboy would refuse to give up his load; but I
got up to him just in time, and at a word from me the young officer,
still perfectly insensible, was lifted from the big black's shoulders,
laid upon the blanket, and then the four men took the corners in a good
grip and trotted off at the double.  Joeboy, grinning with satisfaction,
now took hold of my saddle-bow and ran by my side till we reached the
strong position in a great notch in one side of the valley, where the
Colonel was defending himself against a large body of the enemy coming
on from the plains below.

It was a capitally chosen spot, as I soon saw, for there was a smooth
open part in front of the notch, which backed right into the side; and
the stones across the path, front and rear, formed capital breastworks
for the dismounted men who lined them, all the horses having been turned
into the gap in the huge wall, where they were quite out of the line of
fire.

"Splendid!" said the Sergeant to me, as we waited to take our turn at
the defence.

"But we shall be attacked on both sides," I said.  "Oughtn't we to get
in there with the horses?"

"No, you recruit, you," said the Sergeant.  "We shall be between two
fires; but don't you see how the enemy will be crippled?  Every shot
that goes over us, whether it's upward or downward, goes among the
Doppies.  They're firing at us, but at their own friends as well."

"Of course," I replied.  "I did not see that."

"I didn't at first," he said; "but our Colonel's got his head screwed on
the right way, and the position is famous.  Well, why don't you say
`Hurrah!' or `Bravo!' or something of the sort?"

"Because I don't feel satisfied," I said.

"You young fellows never are," said the Sergeant.  "What's the matter
with you now?"

"We can hold out, of course," I said, "as long as our ammunition lasts;
but what about afterwards?"

"Bother afterwards!" he said sharply; "a hundred things may happen
before it comes to afterwards."

"Then, if they determine to hold on, they can force us to surrender."

"Never," said the Sergeant; "so no more croaking."

"But what about provisions?"

"Every man has his rations in a satchel."

"But water?"

"Every man has his bottle well filled, my lad."

"But when the water-bottles are empty and the food is done?  What about
feeding the horses?  What about watering them?"

"Yah!" growled the Sergeant savagely.  "Call yourself a volunteer?  What
do you mean by coming here prophesying all sorts of evil?  Do you want
to starve the horses and see 'em die of thirst?  Here, I say, my lad,"
he whispered, "don't let any of the boys hear that.  You've hit the weak
point of the defence a regular staggerer.  You're quite right; but we
must hold on, and perhaps after a good peppering they'll draw off.  If
they don't, it means forming up and making a dash, and that's what the
Colonel won't do if he can help it, on account of the loss."

I had no more time for talking, for directly after I was ordered to take
my place behind one of the stones to make the best use I could of my
rifle in keeping back the enemy, who were now descending the pass in
great numbers, while the firing from the rear was so furious that it was
plain enough that the ascending force was stronger than the one with
which they were trying to join hands.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

HOW I USED MY CARTRIDGES.

It was a strange experience for one who had come fresh from a home life;
and in the intervals of tiring I could not help wondering whether it was
not all a dream.  The reality, however, forced itself on me too strongly
as the light went on, the spaces about the stones being literally
littered with battered bullets which had assumed all kinds of strange
shapes after coming in contact with the stones--flat, mushroom-shaped,
twisted, the conical points struck off diagonally, and the like; but we
were so sheltered that if the Boers fired low we were unhurt, and if
they fired high their shots went over among comrades.  Signals were now
made from above and below, with the result that the attacking party
coming down the pass divided, to line the sides of the place as far as
they could, so that their shots crossed our defences, and the attacking
party from below followed their old tactics; thus our defences were
swept by a cross-fire, and fewer Boers fell by the bullets of their
friends.  But these movements on the part of the Boers had brought them
better within range of our pieces, for they were more exposed upon
climbing up the slopes; and I had plain evidence of the loss they
sustained.

At last night began to fall, and the firing of the attacking force,
dropped off.  It was plain that the Boers were retiring, possibly
disheartened by their heavy losses.  Then, soon after dark, lights began
to appear, just out of range, both up and down the pass; but it was
probable that the fight would be resumed as soon as it was daylight
again.

Two-thirds of the men were now set at liberty to take what rest and
refreshment they could, the remaining third being upon sentry-duty,
ready to give the alarm should a night attack be attempted; but of this
there was little probability.

Taking advantage of not being on sentry-duty, I made my way to the niche
in the mountain-side which had been taken for hospital purposes, and
here found Denham rolled up in a horseman's cloak and sleeping
peacefully.  I felt his forehead gently, and then his wrists and hands,
to find all cool and comfortable; but I knew I must not wake him.  Just
then a figure close by stirred, and I started, for a voice said, "He's
asleep."

"Yes, I know," I replied; "but has he been awake?"

"Yes; an hour ago."

"How did he seem?"  I asked.

"Said it hurt him a deal, just as if his ribs were broken.  Ah! he
doesn't know what pain is."

"Do you?"  I said.

"Rather!" said the man.  "One of their bullets went right through my
thigh just about six inches below my hip.  That is pain.  It's just as
if a red-hot iron was being pushed through."

"Can I get anything for you?"  I said.

"No," was the gruff reply; "unless you can get me a heap of patience to
bear all this pain."

I tried to say a few comforting words to him, but they only seemed to
irritate.

"Don't," he said peevishly.  "I know you want to be kind, my lad; but
I'm not myself now, and it only makes me feel mad.  There, thank ye for
it all; but please go before I say something ungrateful."

I crept away and tried to find the doctor who was with the corps; but he
was busy with his wounded men, of whom he had about twenty.  Giving up
the satisfaction of getting his report about the young Lieutenant, I
went to where Sandho was picketed with the rest, and stood by his head
for about half-an-hour, petting and caressing him, before going back
towards the rough breastwork--partly natural, partly artificial--which
served as a shelter from the bullets.

I soon came upon one of the sentries, who challenged me; but he made
room for me beside him after a few words had passed.

"Oh yes," he said, "you can stay here if you like; but why don't you go
and lie down till you have to relieve guard?"

"Because I feel too excited to sleep," I replied.

"Humph!  Yes, it has been warm work," said the sentry; "but I suppose we
shall get used to it.  I'm excited; but I feel as if I'd give anything
to lie down for an hour."

"Well, lie down," I said.  "I'll keep watch for you."

"You will?" he said joyfully.  "No, no; I'm not going to break down like
that.  Don't say any more about it.  It's like tempting a man.  Here, I
say," he whispered eagerly, "how quiet they are!  You don't think
they're going to make a night attack--do you?"

"No," I said; "it's not likely.  What good could they do when they
couldn't see to shoot?"

"None, of course.  It's not as if they were soldiers with bayonets.  The
only thing they could do would be to stampede the horses."

"What!"  I whispered excitedly.  "Oh, I say, don't talk like that."

"Only a bit of an idea that came into my head.  Don't see anything--do
you?"

"Nothing," I replied.  "It's dark; but there's a curious transparent
look about the night, and I think we should see any one directly if he
were advancing."

"How?  I don't see that's at all likely."

"If any one passed along it would be like a shadow crossing the grey
stones.  They look quite grey in the starlight."

"Well, yes, they do," he said; "and--I say, what's that?"

He pointed towards the Boers' camp-fires, and, startled by his tone, I
looked eagerly in the direction pointed out; but there were the piles of
grey stones looking dull and shadowy, but no sign to me of anything
else.

"Fancy," I said.

"No.  Just as you spoke I saw something dark go across one of the
stones.  Shall I fire?"

"Certainly not.  It would be alarming every one for nothing.  We talked
about seeing things pass the grey stones, and that made you think you
saw some one."

"Perhaps so," he said thoughtfully.  "Anyhow, there's nothing here now.
I say, that seems to have woke me up."

"It would," I said; and then I crouched a little lower, shading my eyes
from the starlight and keenly sweeping the chaotic wilderness of rocks
again and again, but seeing nothing.

I heard, though, the steps of the sentry away to my left, and soon after
a faint cough to my right sounded quite loudly.

"It wouldn't have done for you to have gone to sleep with me taking your
place, for I suppose some officer will be visiting the posts before very
long, and then you'd have been found out if I hadn't woke you in time."

I said this in a low tone not much above a whisper, in case any one was
going the rounds; but he did not take any notice.

"It wouldn't have done, you know," I said.

There was a low, heavy sighing breath, which made me start in wonder,
and then turn towards my companion, to find that his rifle was resting
against the stone, and that he had sunk sidewise against another and was
fast asleep.

"Completely fagged out," I said to myself, with a feeling of pity for
him.  "He did fight bravely against it; but the drowsiness was too much
for him."

One moment I felt ready to take hold of his arm and shake him, but I did
not.  I was there with his rifle ready to my hand, and if I kept his
watch, perhaps only for a few minutes, he would wake up again, refreshed
and better able to keep it till he was relieved.

"It often is so," I said to myself.  "One drops asleep after dinner, and
then wakes up ready to go for any length of time.  It's being a good
comrade to the poor fellow," I thought; and, picking up his rifle, I
took over his duty just as if it were my own, keeping my eyes wandering
over the dark grey stones in front, and sweeping the whole space.  Then
my breath suddenly felt as if checked in my surprise, for about thirty
yards away, as near as I could guess, there was a dark shadow passing
one of the great blocks.

"Fancy," I said to myself as soon as I could recover from my surprise;
and, treating myself as I had treated my fellow-trooper, I mentally
declared I had thought about it till I seemed to see it.

"It's all imagination," I said again; and then I lowered the rifle I
held, a thrill running through me as I distinctly saw the dark shadow
again, but nearer than before.  This time I was certain it was not
imagination.  A figure--enemy or no--was cautiously stealing towards our
lines!  My first impulse was to fire at the figure and give the alarm;
but on second thoughts I hesitated to go to such an extreme.  Fixing my
eyes upon the dark, shadowy form, I cocked my rifle, and called hoarsely
upon whoever it was to stop.

"Ah!  No shoot, no shoot," cried a familiar voice.

"Joeboy!"  I exclaimed.

"Um!" was the reply; and, to my astonishment, the black came hurrying
towards me, bending under a load which stuck out curiously from his
sides and back.

"Why, what have you been doing out there?"

"Been get all these," he said as he forced his way between a couple of
stones, which caught his bulky load and checked him for a few moments.

"You idiot!"  I said in a low tone, for I was afraid now that I had
alarmed the sentries on either side; but though Joeboy's load on one
side bumped against my companion sentry, he was so utterly wearied out
that he did not stir.

"Um?  Idiot?" said Joeboy.  "Boss Val going to be hungry.  Joeboy
hungry.  Been to get all these."

"What are they--forage-bags?"

"Um!" he said.

"But where did you get them--whose are they?"

"Doppies'.  All in a heap.  Brought them all along."

A little further questioning made it all clear--that under cover of the
darkness the plucky fellow had crept up the valley, taking advantage of
the shelter afforded by the stones, passed the lines of the Boers, and
hunted about till he came upon something worth having in the shape of a
pile of canvas forage-bags containing the men's provender, which they
had left together and in charge of a sentinel, so as to be unencumbered
in their attack upon us.

"But what about the sentry?"  I said suspiciously.

"Um?  Fast asleep," said Joeboy.

"What! all the time you were loading yourself with these bags?"

"Um!"

"You did not send him to sleep, did you?"  I said suspiciously.

"Um?  Killum?"

"Yes."

"No," said Joeboy coolly.  "Didn't wake up.  Lot more couldn't carry.
Plenty to eat now."

"Then you actually went foraging up there, and got back safely with this
load?"

"Um!" said Joeboy.  "Boss Val must have plenty to eat.  Doppies nearly
caught um."

"So I should expect," I said.  "But you nearly got shot, stealing up to
the lines like this."

He laughed softly.

"Boss Val wouldn't shoot Joeboy.  Doppies nearly ketch him.  Big lot
coming down now."

"What!"  I said excitedly.  "Some of them coming down?"

"Um!  Big lot coming down to fight."

I began to grasp now that after all there was some night expedition on
the way, and that the pile of haversacks Joeboy had found had been
deposited there to leave the men free and unfettered.

"Look here," I said sharply; "are you sure that the Doppies are coming
down?"

"Um!  Great big lot."

"Here, you," I whispered, "wake up!" and I shook and shook the sentry
roughly, making him spring up and make a snatch at his rifle.

"Thank ye," he said.  "I say, I was nearly dropping off to sleep."

"Very," I said dryly; "but keep awake now.  My man here has just brought
in news that the enemy are coming on down the pass."

"What--for a night-attack?"

"Yes."

"The beasts!" he cried, and he raised his rifle to fire and give the
alarm.

"No, no," I said; "don't fire unless you see them.  I'll go and give the
alarm.  Stand fast till reinforcements come.--Here, Joeboy, bring your
load into camp."

I led the way straight to the Colonel, being challenged twice before I
reached the side where he, in company with his officers, lay sleeping in
their horsemen's heavy cloaks.

All sprang up at once, and each started to rouse his following, with the
result that in a few minutes the whole force was under arms and divided
in two bodies to join the line of sentries who paced up and down the
pass.

It was only now I became aware of the Colonel's plan of strategy, which
was to defend the position as long as seemed wise, and then for each
line to fold back, making the pivot of the movements the ends of the
lines by the niche in the hillside where the horses were sheltered.
Then, on the performance of this evolution, there would be a double line
facing outward for the defence of the horses, in a position enormously
strong from the impossibility of there being any attack from flanks or
rear.

So far we had no news of any attack threatening from the Boers who held
the lower part of the pass; but scouts had been sent out in that
direction to get in touch with the enemy, and their return was anxiously
awaited where the men were in position; but the minutes glided by in the
midst of a profound silence, and I began to feel a doubt about the
correctness of Joeboy's announcement.

I was in the centre of the line which would receive the shock of the
descending Boers, and Joeboy had stationed himself behind me as soon as
he had bestowed his plunder in safety; and at last, as there was no
sound to indicate that the enemy was on the move, I began to grow
terribly impatient, feeling as I did that before long the Colonel and
his officers would be reproaching me for giving a false alarm.

"Are you quite sure, Joeboy?"  I whispered, turning to him where he
squatted with assagai in hand and his shield spread across his knees.

"Um?" he whispered.  "Yes, quite sure.  Come soon."

They did not come soon, and I grew more and more excited and angry; but
I refrained from questioning the black any more, feeling as I did the
uselessness of that course, and being unwilling to bring down upon
myself the reproof of the officers for talking at a time when the order
had been passed for strict silence, so that the Boers might meet with a
complete surprise.

It seemed to me that an hour had passed, during which I stood behind the
natural breastwork of a stone upon which my rifle rested, gazing
straight away up the pass, and straining my sense of hearing to catch
something to suggest that the enemy was in motion; but there was not a
sound in the grim and desolate gap between the hills, and my beating
heart sank lower and lower as I glanced back at Joeboy, who reached
towards me.

"Doppy long time," he said, hardly above his breath.

"They won't come," I whispered back angrily.  "You fancied it all."

"Um?"

"You fancied it all.  They would not come on in the night."

"Boss Val wait a bit.  Come soon."

"Ugh!"  I ejaculated; and a voice somewhere near whispered, "Silence in
the ranks!"  The command was needed, for a low murmur was beginning to
make itself heard.

All was still again directly after, and the time glided slowly on again,
till that which I expected came suddenly; for I heard the trampling of
feet behind me in the darkness, and a voice whispered, "Where's that new
recruit Moray?"

"I am here, sir," I said.

"Quick! the Colonel wants you."

I left my post, and another man stepped into my place, while I followed
the sergeant who had summoned me.

"I say, young fellow," he said, "you're in for a bullying.  The
Colonel's horribly wild about your false alarm.  Are you sure the
Doppies were coming on?"

I told him what I had learned, and that I had felt obliged to report it.

"Humph!  Yes, of course; but it's a great pity, when the men wanted
rest."

The next minute I was facing the Colonel in the middle of the pass,
where he stood with a group of the officers, about half-way between the
two lines of men facing up and down, but lying so close that they were
only visible here and there.

"Oh, here you are, young fellow!" were the words that saluted me, spoken
in a low, angry whisper.  "Now then, where are these two attacking
parties of Boers?"

"I only reported that one was coming, sir--one descending the pass."

"Very well; you shall have credit for only one, then.  Well, where is
it?"

"I can't say, sir," I replied.  "I was warned of it by my native
servant."

"Then just go back and flog your native servant till you have given him
a lesson against spreading false alarms to rob tired men of their rest.
It is perfectly abominable--just when we want all our strength for the
work in hand for us to-morrow."

"I'm very sorry, sir," I said.

"Sorry?  What must I be, then?  I can't fight unless I have plenty to
eat and as much sleep as I can get.  There, get back to your post.  I
wish to goodness you had stopped at home or joined the Boers, or done
something else with yourself, instead of coming and giving this
confounded false alarm.  Be off.--Here, call in the men again, and--Yes,
what now?"

"Enemy coming up the pass in great strength, sir," said one of the
scouts, who had come breathlessly back.

"What!" said the Colonel in a hurried whisper.  "Could you make them
out?"

"Yes, sir; two or three hundred, I should say."

"You got near enough to see?"

"I couldn't see much, sir; but I could hear.  They seemed to spread
right across from the side I was on."

"Here, you, Moray," said the Colonel, turning to me, for at this
announcement I had stood fast.  "Get back to your post; and I beg your
pardon.--Yes; who are you?"--for another scout came in to endorse the
words of the first.  He had scouted down the other side of the widening
pass, and according to his report the enemy could not be a quarter of a
mile away.

"Thank goodness!" said the Colonel fervently.  "Mr Moray, I spoke in
haste and disappointment.  Now then, gentlemen, perfect silence, please.
I believe we shall hear some signal from below, and that is what the
party above are waiting for.  Then they will attack simultaneously, to
give us a surprise, and we're going to surprise them.  Every one to his
post, please; and then, at their first rush, let it be volleys and slow
falling back, so as to keep them from breaking our too open formation."

The next minute every man was in his place, and the pass so dark and
still that it was impossible to believe that a terrible conflict was so
close at hand.  As I stood waiting and listening for the enemy's order
to attack, I could feel my heart go _throb, throb, throb, throb_, so
hard that I seemed to be hearing it at the same time making a dull echo
in my brain.

Still there was no sign; and at last I began to go over my brief
interview with the Colonel, and to wonder whether he would turn now upon
the two scouts and charge them with having deceived themselves, for
according to their report the enemy ought to have been upon us long
before.  I had got to this point when all at once I felt an arm upon my
shoulder, and could just make out at the side and front of my face a big
hand pointing forward towards the stones a hundred feet away.

"Um!" whispered Joeboy, with his lips close to my ear.  "See um now.
Big lots."

"I can see nothing," I whispered.

"Joeboy can.  Lie down ready.  Boss Val going to shoot?"

"When I get the order," I said softly, and my heart beat more heavily
than ever, for I felt now that the black must be right.  I had had for
years past proofs of the wonderful power of his sight, and had not a
doubt that, though they were invisible to me, a large body of the enemy
were clustering among the stones ready for the assault upon our
position.

Then I heard from somewhere below a faint, rushing, whistling sound, as
of a firework, followed by a crack, and the white stars of a rocket lit
up the sides of the pass and made the stones in front visible in a soft
glare.  The next instant from front and rear, almost simultaneously,
there were flashes and a scattered roar, while the sides of the pass
took up the reports, forming a deafening roll of thunder running down
towards the plain.

Before this was half-over there was the rush of men before us, the
stones and the spaces between seeming to be alive with running and
leaping Boers, shouting and cheering like mad as they came on, their
purpose being to scare us and frighten the horses into a stampede,
which, if it had followed, must have been equally fatal to their
comrades attacking from the rear as it would have been to us; but,
instead of the enemy being gratified by hearing the clattering of
hundreds of hoofs, they were received by a series of sharp volleys
proceeding from our two lines of men.  These were so inadequately
returned that the officers in the rear ran to and fro bidding us stand
firm and keep up the fire, no attempt being made to fall back towards
the gap where the horses were tethered.

Those were tremendously exciting minutes, and in the confusion, the
crack of the rifles, and the reverberations, I hardly know what I did,
except that I kept on firing without taking aim, for the simple reason
that there was nothing visible in the smoke and darkness unless one had
tried to aim at a spot from whence flashes came; and as the men
attacking us were constantly on the move, that would have been useless.

I found afterwards, on talking to the men above me, that they had
behaved in precisely the same way as I did--they kept on firing; while
all were in constant expectation of having to club their rifles to beat
back the enemy should they come on with a rush.

However, we never came to close quarters that night; for, failing in
sweeping our men back in the first surprise, the enemy drew off a short
distance till all were well under cover, and then kept up their fire,
each party of the enemy seeming utterly regardless of the risk to their
own comrades beyond us.

In the midst of the roar and reverberation I was startled by a hand laid
upon my shoulder, and, turning sharply, I found the sergeant by my side.

"Fall back," he said; and as I obeyed I thrust my hand to my
cartridge-belt so as to reload, when, to my utter astonishment, I found
it was two-thirds empty.  This was soon remedied; for, as we--that is to
say, about half the defenders of the upper side of our stronghold--stood
fast, non-commissioned officers came running along and thrust packets of
cartridges into our hands.

It was, as I have said, very dark; but I could just manage to see
beneath the canopy of smoke which rose slowly that half the lower line
of defenders had fallen back.  Directly after, we were all hurried to
the front of the great niche and ordered to man the rocks there in front
of the horses.

While settling ourselves in every advantageous position we could find,
the firing went on as briskly as ever, the Boers blazing away at our two
lines of men, who replied as fast as they could load; and, as far as I
could tell by the sound, the fusillade did not slacken.

Then I began to understand what was about to happen, and could not help
laughing to myself when I saw the part of our line we had left firing
suddenly come hurrying in, to pass through an opening in our ranks; and
no sooner were they safe than the lower line fell back and came running
into the shelter, to join up with the others.

As soon as these detachments were out of the way we had orders to fire
four cartridges each, half of us firing as well up the pass as possible,
the other half to fire as far downwards as they could.  After these four
rounds each we were to cease firing: this was, of course, to prevent the
Boers from noticing that our fire had slackened and then ceased; and it
answered exactly as the Colonel had intended, for the bull-headed and
obstinate enemy went on for the next half-hour firing away at the stones
where we had been, each side believing that a portion of the reports and
echoes were caused by our firing, and all the time our men stood
laughing and enjoying the blunder, and pretty sure that the enemy must
be bringing down some of their own comrades.  Whether the enemy found
this out at last, or were dissatisfied at not being able to silence our
fire, I don't know; but suddenly there was another train of sparks
rushing up through the smoke, and the bursting of a rocket far on high,
sending down a dingy bluish light through the overhanging cloud.  Then
the firing stopped as if by magic.

Instantly every man was on the _qui vive_, the front of the niche
bristling with rifles ready to deliver volley after volley as soon as
the rush we all expected began; but we waited in vain.  When skirmishers
were sent out to feel their way cautiously in the darkness, through
which the smoke was slowly rising, we still waited and listened,
expecting to hear them fired upon; but again we waited in vain.  Both
parties of the enemy had retired for the night; and, as soon as the
Colonel was satisfied of this, the necessary advance-posts were sent out
and stationed, and the men then ordered to lie down on their arms and
get what sleep they could.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

THE SERGEANT'S WOUND.

There were the hard stones for our couches, and the air up in the pass
was sharp and cold; but we were all pretty close together, and in five
minutes it did not seem as if any one was awake, though doubtless the
few poor fellows who had been wounded--I may say wonderfully few
considering what we had gone through--did not get much sleep.  I was one
of those who did lie awake for a time, gazing up at the clear, bright
stars which began to peer down through the clearing-off smoke, but only
for a few minutes; then a calm, restful feeling began to steal over me,
and I was sleeping as sound as if on one of the feather-beds at the
farm, where in course of years they had grown plentiful and big.

We were not, however, to pass the night in peace; for directly after, as
it seemed to me, I started up in the darkness, roused by firing.  Then
the trumpet-call rang out, and we were all up ready for the rush that
was in progress; while I was startled and confused, and unable to
understand why the now mounted Boers should be guilty of such an insane
action as to attack us there, nestling among the stones.  We were all
ready, but no orders came to fire, and all crouched or stood with finger
on trigger, gradually grasping what it all meant, and listening to the
trampling of hoofs going steadily on, till at last the Colonel's
familiar voice was heard from close to where I stood.

"Hold your fire, my lads.  We should be doing no good by bringing a few
down.  Let them join their friends.  They've come to the conclusion that
this is too hard a nut to crack."

This is what happened: the enemy's lower party had waited till nearly
daylight, and then approached quietly till their coming had been noticed
by our outpost sentries, who fired to give the alarm, when they made a
sudden dash to get up the pass to join the detachment of Boers above.
This they were allowed to do unmolested, the Colonel saying that nothing
was to be gained by stopping them, and that an advance up the pass was
work for infantry, not for a mounted force.

Daylight came soon afterwards, I suppose; but I did not watch for the
dawn, for, as soon as the last of the horsemen had passed and the word
was given, I sank down again and slept as a tired lad can sleep.  Again,
as it seemed, only a few minutes expired before the trumpet once more
rang out, and I had to shake myself together, when the first face that
looked into mine was that of Joeboy, who was standing close by me with a
heap of haversacks at his feet, and grinning at me with a good-humoured
smile.  I didn't smile, for I felt stiff and full of aches and pains;
but before long fires were burning and water getting hot.  I had a good
shower-bath, too, in a gurgling spring of water which came down a rift
by the gap in the pass.  Then sweet hot coffee and slices of bread and
cold ham out of one of the haversacks Joeboy had foraged for seemed to
quite alter the face of nature.  Perhaps it was that the sun came out
warm and bright, and that the blue sky was beautiful; but I gave the
bread, ham, and coffee the credit of it all.  Ah! what a breakfast that
was!  It seemed to me the most delicious I had ever eaten; but before it
was begun I had been to see Denham, who was sitting up with his chest
tightly bandaged.  He was ready to hold out a hand as soon as he saw me.

"Hullo, Moray!" he cried, "how are you this morning?"

"It's how are you?"  I replied.

"Oh, I'm all right.  A bit stiff, and I've got a bruise in the back, the
doctor says, like; the top of a silk hat."

"You haven't seen it?"  I said.

"Have I got a neck like an ostrich or a giraffe?  No, of course I
haven't."

"But is anything broken?"  I asked anxiously.

"

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