In the Whirl of the Rising Part 23

"Not much--in fact very little."

"Then a bird gun is the thing for you. With buckshot cartridges it's a terror--especially at close quarters. By Jove, Ancram! that last shoot we had at Courtland, you little thought that next time you and I were fellow guns it wouldn't be as against the harmless homely rocketer, but the whole real live Matabele?"

"No, rather not," answered Ancram, a little more confidently, for the cool, devil-may-care fearlessness of the other two was beginning to infect him. "And--er, Lamont, I think I'll have another peg, if I may."

The hot afternoon drowsed on, and the a.s.sailants, or besiegers rather, after the first few volleys made no further sign. It was clear that Lamont had accurately sized up their programme. Once, Peters had thought to descry the head of a savage peering round a bush, and had promptly sent a bullet where he judged the body should be, but there was nothing to tell with what success or not. Clearly they were playing a waiting game, for they made no attempt to occupy the cattle kraal, and rake the house from there. Those awful magazine rifles had established within them a wholesome fear.

But they had no idea of abandoning their plan, for all that. That house would be worth plundering. Its owner was known as one of the well-to-do settlers, and there would be stores of all kinds, and ammunition and firearms--good ones too. For the rest, they had already lost several warriors and thirsted for revenge.

During the hours of daylight the occupants were not idle. The position being menaced from one side only, they need only give cursory vigilance to the other, where the ground was too open for any wily savage to venture to risk his skin. So, while one watched, the other was busy putting up in portable packets a sufficiency of provisions to last for some days at a pinch, likewise as much ammunition as could be carried.

"Now we'll have a feed," said Lamont. "That'll last us the night through, and spare our supplies for the road. They're bound to burn this shack down in any case. Aren't they, Peters?"

"Cert."

"All right then. Now for the trap."

And Ancram looked on with mystified eyes, while Lamont was arranging what seemed like a dummy parcel on a beam over the centre of the room, and connecting it by a string to a cross string, fastened about half a yard above the ground. This anybody exploring the room was bound to trip over, and then--down came the dummy parcel, hard and violently upon the table. Having tested it several times, he untied it from the string and chucked it into a corner.

"That'll be all right. There'll be some vacant places in kingdom come filled up before sunrise," he said. And to Ancram's inquiries as to what sort of b.o.o.by trap they were concocting, the answers of both men were dark.

The sun dipped to the far horizon, throwing out his long sweeping rays of gold across the silent land. But there was no sign of the returning herd of cattle, of which Ujojo was in charge. It was significant, too, that no sign of a native servant was visible among the huts since the time that Peters had been chased in. Ujojo had, of course, run off the cattle as his share of the spoil. The few calves in the kraal were bellowing impatiently for their defaulting mothers, and some fowls were clucking and scratching about. In a few minutes it would be quite dark.

"Ready, Ancram?" said Peters.

"Ye-es. But--who's going to fetch the horses?"

"n.o.body," said Lamont briskly. "We travel per Shanks his mare."

"But--what'll Fullerton say? I borrowed a horse from him."

"Then he'll lose it. Why, if anyone tried to get out the horses he'd make such a devil of a row over it that our scheme would be blown upon right there. And they wouldn't funk rushing us in the dark, when we couldn't see to shoot straight. Now then--got your gun and cartridges?

That's right. Out of that window, and stick hard to Peters. For your life walk quietly and don't let a sound be heard. I'm going to set the trap."

But Peters protested this was his job--protesting, however, to deaf ears.

"Well then, for G.o.d's sake, Lamont, be careful," he whispered earnestly.

For all they had primed him liberally with 'Dutch courage' Ancram's heart sank into his boots, as he found himself in the fresh, cool night air, and realised that anything over a hundred savages lurked within hardly more than three times that number of yards of him, thirsting for his blood. No need to enjoin caution upon him. He stepped as though walking on hot bricks. Suddenly he gave a violent start, and some special extension of the mercy of Providence alone restrained him from blazing off his gun. For he felt, rather than heard, stealthy footsteps behind him. Then the merest whisper breathed through the darkness.

"It's all right. I've done it. Now let's get on."

And Ancram's knees tottered under him in the revulsion of feeling. No murderous savage was this, stealing up to transfix him in the darkness.

It was only that they had been joined by Lamont.

"_Whau_! it is near the time," whispered Jabula, a fighting induna of the old Insukamini regiment. "It will never be darker than this, and these fools will be asleep by now. They believe we have gone away."

"Not yet, not yet," cautioned another man of equal rank. "When they have drunk a little more they will be less watchful I know these whites and their ways."

After some more whispered discussions it was agreed that they should wait a little longer; and they lay there, in the darkness, impatiently fingering their blades, and thinking hungrily over all the good things they would find within that house when they had cut its occupants to pieces.

Savages rarely embark on night attacks, any more than they are keen to venture against unknown odds. These knew the odds they were facing: two cool and resolute men--of Ancram's presence they were unaware--armed with rifles which seemed to require no reloading, and who rarely missed their aim. If such were to be overpowered, without terrific loss of life to themselves, it must be during the hours of darkness. That was the only chance, and even it was a desperate one. But for nearly two hundred of them to retire before two men, however resolute, however well-armed--no, that was not to be thought of.

The time had come, and now each supple, crawling shape moved noiselessly through the darkness. Those who had white among their war adornments had removed such, and were indistinguishable from the blackness that enveloped them. On the edge of the cover they halted, listening intently, but that dark silent house, now quite close, gave forth no sound, showed no glimmer of a light. They moved forward once more, those creeping snakes, a portion of them spreading out over the open ground, their tactics being to surround the place completely, lest its occupants should endeavour to escape in the darkness.

The circle closed in, and now they were right under the walls. Still no sound! What did it mean? Simply that the man who had counselled further delay had spoken the right word. The occupants were probably fast asleep.

Softly, noiselessly, Jabula put forth his hand and grasped the handle of the door; softly, noiselessly, he turned it. To his amazement the door readily opened. It was not even fast.

He whispered a moment to those behind him, and he and several others entered the room. Then, as prearranged, a blaze sprang up as one of them had struck a match and lighted an impromptu torch of gra.s.s and sticks intertwisted, and rubbed over with grease. More amazement!

There, in an arm-chair, with back towards them, lounged the figure of a man. The broad-brimmed hat was pulled rather forward over the eyes, as though its wearer were fast asleep.

"U' Lamonti!" murmured Jabula; adding, by way of injunction, "He is sleepy with drink. Do not kill him. We will take him alive."

For a moment the induna and those inside the door stood contemplating the sleeping figure, the fitful glare of the impromptu torch lighting their savage faces and blood-covetous eyes. They felt no further misgiving. The other white man would be asleep too--also drunk. What surpa.s.sing fools these Amakiwa were.

"Wake, Lamonti," said Jabula, advancing to the arm-chair and its occupant. "Lo, we have come to visit thee."

And those were the last words he ever spoke, for he had tripped and stumbled over a line of taut string stretched across the room, and at the moment he did so there was a concussion that might well have shaken the world, together with a most awful and appalling roar; which, however, those within or around did not even hear, inasmuch as they, together with Lamont's homestead, had been literally blown from the face of the earth.

When the sun rose the following morning, it rose upon a strange scene.

The site of Lamont's homestead was now represented by a huge pit surrounded by a jumble of stones and fragments of wood and of iron-- human remains, also fragmentary, in ghastly profusion, mixed with half-charred shields and fused and twisted metal. And outside the radius of this indescribable ruin, an odd savage here and there was picking himself up, and blinking dazedly as he asked a comrade what had happened, and was surprised that though he could see the latter's lips moving he could not hear one word of what was said. Indeed it would be long before those who had escaped with life would recover from the shock of that awful concussion, even if they ever did.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

THE FUGITIVES.

"But--this is surely not the way to Gandela," whispered Ancram, when they had got over about three miles.

"Quite right. It isn't," answered Peters. "We'll get there kind of roundabout. You see, if by any chance our trap should miss fire, and they come after us, they'd head along the straight road to Gandela.

Where'd we be then?"

"But," objected Ancram, looking dubiously at the black line in front, just discernible in its loom against the stars, "isn't this the line of forest where we heard the lions that evening? We are not going into that--at night, too--surely?"

"Right again--as to the first. For the second--wrong. We are."

"But--the lions?"

"We must chance them."

"I told you the great G.o.d Chance counted for a lot up-country, eh, Ancram?" cut in Lamont.

The other made no reply. What with those beastly Matabele behind, with their beastly a.s.segai blades, keen and bright and hungering for his vitals, and a ramping and a roaring lion--or perhaps several--ready to spring out on him from those black depths, his heart was in his boots.

He would have given something now to have taken Lamont's advice and to have cleared right out of this infernal country. Let them but come through this safely, and then how blithely would he bid good-bye to Matabeleland, and all its abominable conditions of life, for ever.

They seemed to be following a game path as they threaded the black depths of the forest. Peters led the way, and it was a marvel to Ancram how he kept the track. Peters might be a bit too patronising and familiar under ordinary circ.u.mstances, but under such as these Peters had his uses--by Jove, he had!