The Curse of Carne's Hold Part 23

Ronald gave him a sketch of the plan that had been determined upon by himself and Kreta.

"Well, I think you have a chance at any rate," the officer said, when he concluded. "Of course the risk of detection in the midst of the Kaffirs will be tremendous, but still there seems just a chance of your escape.

In any case no one can possibly disapprove of your endeavour to save this young lady from the awful fate that will certainly be hers unless you can rescue her. Poor girl! Even though I don't know her, it makes my blood run cold to think of an English lady in the hands of those savages. If I were not in command of the convoy, I would gladly go with you and take my chance."

As soon as the encampment was reached, Kreta came up to Ronald.

"Must change clothes," he said, "and go as Kaffir." Ronald nodded his head, as he had already decided that this step was absolutely necessary.

"Must paint black," the chief went on; "how do that?"

"The only way I can see is to powder some burnt wood and mix it with a little oil."

"Yes, that do," the chief said.

"I will be with you in five minutes. I must hand over the command to the corporal."

"Corporal James," he said, when he went up to him, "I hand over the command of this detachment to you. You are, of course, to keep by the waggons and protect them to King Williamstown."

"But where are you going, sergeant?" the corporal asked, in surprise.

"I have arranged with Mr. Nolan to go away on detached duty for two or three days. I am going to try to get the unfortunate women who were carried off this morning out of the hands of the Kaffirs." The corporal looked at him as if he had doubts as to his sanity.

"I may not succeed," Ronald went on, "but I am going to try. At any rate, I hand over the command to you. I quite understand that Mr. Nolan cannot give me leave, and that I run the risk of punishment for leaving the convoy; but I have made up my mind to risk that."

"Well, of course you know best, sergeant; but it seems to me that, punishment or no punishment, there is not much chance of your rejoining the corps; it is just throwing away your life going among them savages."

"I don't think it is as bad as that," Ronald said, "although of course there is a risk of it. At any rate, corporal, you can take the convoy safely into King Williamstown. That's your part of the business."

Ronald then returned to the encampment of the native levies. A number of sticks were charred and then sc.r.a.ped. There was no oil to be found, but as a subst.i.tute the charcoal was mixed with a little cart-grease. Ronald then stripped, and was smeared all over with the ointment, which was then rubbed into him. Some more powdered charcoal was then sprinkled over him, and this also rubbed until he was a shiny black, the operation affording great amus.e.m.e.nt to the Fingoes. Then a sort of petticoat, consisting of strips of hide reaching half-way down to the knee and sewn to a leathern belt, was put round his waist, and his toilet was complete.

Nothing could be done as to his hair, which was already cut quite short to prevent its forming a receptacle for dust. The Kaffirs have, as a rule, scarcely any hair on their heads, and nothing could have made Ronald's head resemble theirs. As, however, the disguise was only meant to pa.s.s at night, this did not matter. When all was done, the Fingoes applauded by clapping their hands and performing a wild dance round Ronald, while the women, who now crowded up, shrieked with laughter.

The chief walked gravely round him two or three times, and then p.r.o.nounced that he would pa.s.s muster. A bandolier for cartridges, of native make, was slung over his shoulder, and with a rifle in one hand and a spear in the other, and two or three necklaces of bra.s.s beads round his neck, Ronald would, at a short distance, pa.s.s muster as a Kaffir warrior. In order to test his appearance, he strolled across to where Mr. Nolan was inspecting the serving out of rations.

"What do you want?" the officer asked. "The allowance for all the men has been served out already; if you haven't got yours you must speak to Kreta about it. I can't go into the question with each of you."

"Then you think I shall do very well, Mr. Nolan?"

The officer started.

"Good Heavens, sergeant, is it you? I had not the slightest conception of it. You are certainly admirably disguised, and, except for your hair, you might walk through the streets of Cape Town without any one suspecting you; but you will never be able to get through the woods barefooted."

"I have been thinking of that myself," Ronald said, "and the only thing I can see is to get them to make me a sort of sandal. Of course it wouldn't do in the daytime, but at night it would not be observed, unless I were to go close to a fire or light of some sort."

"Yes, that would be the best plan," the officer agreed. "I dare say the women can manufacture you something in that way. There is the hide of that bullock we killed yesterday, in the front waggon; it was a black one."

Ronald cut off a portion of the hide, and went across to the natives and explained to them what he wanted. Putting his foot on the hide, a piece was cut off large enough to form the sole of the foot and come up about an inch all round; holes were made in this, and it was laced on to the foot with thin strips of hide. The hair was, of course, outside, and Ronald found it by no means uncomfortable.

"You ride horse," the chief said, "back to bush. I take one fellow with me to bring him back."

Ronald was pleased at the suggestion, for he was by no means sure how he should feel after a walk of ten miles in his new foot-gear.

CHAPTER XII.

IN THE AMATOLAS.

The corporal had already spread the news among the men of Ronald's intended enterprise, and they gave him a hearty cheer as he rode off.

Mr. Nolan had advised him to keep the native who was going to fetch his horse back.

"You won't want to walk into King Williamstown in that guise," he said; "therefore you had best put your uniform into the valise, and tell the man to meet you at any point you like--I should say the nearer to the bush the better; for if you succeed in getting the young lady out of these rascals' clutches you may be pursued, and, if your horse is handy, may succeed in getting her away, when you would otherwise be soon overtaken."

Ronald thankfully accepted the suggestion, for he saw that it might indeed be of vital importance to him to have his horse ready at hand.

With a last wave of his hand he rode off, the chief and his six companions trotting alongside.

The sun had set an hour when they reached the spot at which the chief had directed his two followers to meet him. They had not yet arrived.

"Do you think they will be sure to be able to find the place?" Ronald asked the chief.

"A Fingo never loses his way," the chief replied. "Find his way in dark, all same as day."

In spite of the chief's a.s.surance, Ronald was fidgety and anxious. He wrapped a blanket round him, and walked restlessly up and down. It was nearly an hour before the chief, who, with his companions, had thrown himself down and lighted a pipe, which pa.s.sed from hand to hand, said suddenly:

"One man come!"

Ronald listened intently, but could hear nothing. A moment later a dark figure came up.

Kreta at once questioned him, and a long conversation took place between them.

"What is he saying, chief? What is he saying?" Ronald broke in impatiently several times; but it was not until the man had finished that the chief translated.

"White girl alive, incos, the other two women alive, but not live long, torture them bad. Going to take girl to Macomo."

"Thank G.o.d for that," Ronald exclaimed, fervently, for he had all day been tormented with the fear that Mary Armstrong might have met with her fate directly she was carried away.

"Where are they going to take her?"

"A lot of them go off to-night; go straight to Amatolas; take her with them."

"How many, Kreta; will there be any chance of attacking them on the way?"

The chief asked a question of his messenger.

"Heaps of them," he said to Ronald, for the natives are incapable of counting beyond very low figures. "Too many; no chance to attack them; must follow behind. They show us the way."