Charge! Part 71

At that moment he turned sharply to listen, and I listened too. As the Boer suddenly leaped down, uttering a warning cry, I sat up, and Denham followed my example; for there was a rushing sound in the darkness from the side opposite that fronting the fort, and the tramp of many feet, followed by the ringing notes of a bugle, taken up by another and another, succeeded by so close a volley that the wagon lantern looked dim in the flashes from the rifles. Then came a ringing cheer, bugle-notes sounding the charge; and in the darkness, with cheers that thrilled us through and through, a couple of regiments rushed the Boer lines from the rear with the bayonet.

Chapter Forty Six.

How we were saved.

"Hurrah!"

"Hurrah!"

We yelled together with all our might; but our cheers sounded like whispers amidst the noises of firing in front and the rush of men from the rear. The Boer sentries, however, were true to their duty even in the midst of the terrible confusion in their lines; and four of them made at once, rifle in hand, for the wagon. But we were mad with excitement now, and crack, crack, our revolvers began to speak. Our shots and the rapid advance of the soldiers made them turn and flee.

Then came the crash: the cheering and bayonet-work of the charge, as our men dashed through the Boer lines, scattering them, horse and man, across the veldt, panic-stricken.

"Denham," I cried excitedly; "my friends!" He said nothing for a moment; then, unable to give me comfort, he said, "Oh, if the Colonel could only bring our fellows out now and charge!"

Just then bugles rang out the recall, and in the midst of the many sounds Bob's voice rose from the front of the wagon: "In here, father-quick!"

The pair had only just clambered in when we heard the shouting of an order and tramping of feet, and half a company of foot with fixed bayonets dashed up to the wagon, the light within having attracted attention. At the moment it looked like escaping from one great peril to plunge into another; but, frantic with excitement, Denham saved us by his shout: "Hurrah! Prisoners; help!"

A young officer sprang into the wagon, sword in hand, followed by half-a-dozen of his men with bayonets levelled at us; but the officer halted the men.

"Prisoners," he cried excitedly, "or a ruse?"

"Get out!" shouted Denham. "Do you take me for a Dutchman? Look at our hands and feet."

A sergeant sprang forward and took the swinging lantern from the hook, opened its door, and, as he held it down, they saw our horribly swollen and useless limbs, with the hide-thongs just freshly cut through.

"Who did that?" asked the young officer.

"My young brother here," I said quickly; "we were just going to try and escape."

"Ah!" cried the young man sharply, as an angry murmur ran round the group. "You couldn't escape with feet like that. I mean, who tied you up in that brutal way?"

"The Boers!" cried Denham pa.s.sionately, for his face was convulsed, and he looked hysterical and weak now.

The soldiers uttered a fierce yell, and as others crowded to back and front I heard a burst of excited e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns, oaths, and threats.

"'Tention!" shouted the officer.

"Now then," he cried, "who are you? Oh, I see you both belong to the Light Horse."

"Yes," I said, for Denham was speechless. "They took us last night as we were trying to creep through their lines to come to you for help."

"Ah!" cried the officer.

"They said we were spies, and we were to be shot at daybreak."

"We've come and shot them instead," said the officer. His men inside and out burst into a wild cheer. "But who are these? Boers?"

"No," I cried quickly. "My father and brother, who came to help us to escape."

"That's right," cried the officer, and the firing and cheering went on near at hand. Then he added hastily, "Sergeant and four men stop and help these gentlemen to the rear. Now, my lads, forward!"

He sprang out into the darkness, followed by his men, and we were left together, with my father down upon his knees holding me to his breast, and his lips close by my ear murmuring softly two words again and again-"Thank G.o.d! Thank G.o.d!" while Bob held on to one of my hands, jerking it spasmodically; and then I heard him cry out to one of the soldiers, "Don't stare at me like that! I can't help it. You'd be as bad if you were as young."

"What!" cried a rough voice. "Why, I'm 'most as bad, and I'm six-and-thirty; and here's big George wiping one eye on his cuff."

"Sweat, Sergeant, sweat," growled a rough voice, and there was a laugh from other three men.

"That was a lie, George," said the Sergeant. "Why don't you own up like a man?"

"Well, 'nuff to make any one turn soft when he's cooling down after a fight like this. Look at them two poor fellows here."

"Ah!" came in chorus, as the men standing around bent down in sympathy.

"'Tention!" cried the Sergeant. "Here. Files one and three mount guard front and rear of this dropsical timber-wagon. Two and four get some water. First aid here. Stop a minute. No; kneel down and just rub their legs gently as if you were trying to take out those furrows made by the ropes.-Why, your legs and feet are like stone, sir."

"Are they?" said Denham, quietly now, as he reached forward to shake the Sergeant's hand. "I didn't know-I don't feel as if I had any legs at all. There," he added excitedly, "I want to shake hands with you all round. It's so much better than being shot in the morning."

"Ay-ay!" cried the men eagerly.

"Oh, never mind our hurts."

"But we must, sir. I didn't know you were an orfficer at first," said the Sergeant. "I say, look at your head."

"I can't," said Denham, with a faint attempt at mirth which was very pitiful.

"Well, I can, sir, and you can look at your comrade's. Did the Boers do that too?"

"No," cried Denham fiercely; "it was a brute of a renegade Irishman serving with the Boers."

"Is he out yonder now, sir?" said the Sergeant, giving his head a side jerk in the direction from which, in the darkness, came the sound of cheering and scattered shots.

"Yes, I believe so," said Denham.

"Then I'm sorry for him, that's all," said the Sergeant dryly.

"Ah! Do you think your men are whipping them?"

"Think!" cried the Sergeant scornfully. "Think, sir? Why, we've got at 'em at last with the bay'net. They've been playing at shooting behind a stone and firing at a target-targets being us-till we've been sick of it, and then up on horse and gallop away; but we've got at 'em at last with the bay'net, and there's no need to think."

"But," I cried excitedly, as I strained my ears to listen, "they're coming back."

"Eh?" cried the Sergeant. "Here, files two and four support one and three. Hold your fire till they're close in, and then receive 'em on your bay'nets."

The two men who were chafing our deadened ankles sprang to their places, while my brother reached out of the side of the wagon and dragged in two rifles, evidently their own, and Denham and I c.o.c.ked the revolvers we had thrust back into our b.r.e.a.s.t.s.