The Fire Trumpet Part 17

Armitage looked rather foolish at this; and one or two who knew the joke t.i.ttered slightly.

"Hallo, what's the jest? Trundle it up, Naylor, we don't often catch Jack napping," said Claverton.

"Oh, I'll tell you myself," exclaimed the victim of it, airily. "Well, you know, I was down at Thorman's place one evening, and old Garthorpe came jogging up on that spindle-shanked nag of his. It was just about feeding time, so he off-saddled and got his head well into the trough in no time. Daring the evening we were talking a lot about the war scare, and the old chap stuck out that it was all bosh, in fact insinuated that we were a pack of funks. _He_ wasn't afraid of the Kafirs, he said, not one of them would hurt him, and so on. This rather put our backs up, you know; there was myself, and Johnson, and Gough, and a couple of Dutchmen, so we hit upon a little scheme to give the old fellow a bit of a funk when he left. It was as dark as pitch--"

"'And smelt of cheese,'" put in Claverton. "Why not do justice to the quotation?"

"Confound it, if you can spin the yarn better than I can, do so, by all means," retorted Armitage, in mock dudgeon.

"He wants to get out of it," said Ethel. "It won't do, though, we insist upon hearing it."

"Well, then, as I was saying, when that fellow interrupted me, it was as dark as pitch, but the moon would soon be up. I and Johnson laid our heads together, and arranged that we two and Gough should blacken our faces and go and waylay old Garthorpe in the drift about half a mile from the house. Well, we slipped out one by one and got ourselves up in style, red blankets and all, looked as thorough-paced cut-throats as ever you clapped eyes on--"

"Can quite believe it," murmured the former interrupter.

"There he is again," exclaimed Armitage, wrathfully. "Well, we got down into the drift and soon we heard the horse's feet, and old Garthorpe came mooning along, concocting some sermon or other for the next day, which was Sunday. The moon had just risen, but was not bright enough to betray our ident.i.ty. We jumped out of the bush. Johnson collared the bridle, and the other two of us drew up in line across the path. What does the old chap do, but quick as lightning pull out a revolver and poke it into Johnson's face. He dropped the bridle like a hot potato and skipped into the bush, and then old Garthorpe levels it dead at us.

We looked sharp to follow Johnson's example, and then the old chap rode quietly on, chuckling to himself. Gough swears he heard him say 'somethinged scoundrels,' but that may have been part of the sermon he was concocting. Anyhow, he turned the tables on us most completely."

"Probably the revolver wasn't loaded," suggested Claverton.

"Revolver! Sorra a bit. It was a pipe-case. We three skedaddled for our lives before a preaching old humbug at the f.a.g-end of an old pipe-case."

A roar went up from his auditors at the picture.

"Fact," repeated Armitage. "Tell you what, though; that thing looked plaguey like a pistol in the moonlight. Besides, it's just the sort of thing a fellow would bring out, you know, under the circ.u.mstances. Old Garthorpe went bragging about it all over the shop, and very soon the joke got wind. But this is all very well. How about our bet, Claverton?"

"Oh, all right, I'll take you. Two to one in half-crowns there won't be a cloud in the sky by two o'clock."

"Done," said Armitage. "Any one else game?"

But no one was. "We are not going to encourage anything so disreputable as that betting mania of yours," said Ethel.

"Well, good people," called out Jim's jovial tones, as he swung himself out of his dripping mackintosh, and stamped and sc.r.a.ped to rid his boots of the mud before entering, "how about a start this morning? Not much chance of it, is there, unless you are ready to swim for it."

"Well, _we_ must," said Naylor; "I must be home to-day. I'm expecting Smith round my way about those slaughter-oxen this afternoon, and if I'm not there, away goes a good bargain."

"Besides, we shall be all right in the trap," said his wife. "Laura, why not come with us, if you are in a hurry to get back? We could manage to make room for you and Ethel, and your horses could be led."

"Thanks; but I don't think we ought to desert our escort in that way,"

she answered. The plan suggested in no wise fell in with her views-- nor, we may add, with those of Ethel.

"It'll be outrageously shabby of you if you do, and in fact we shan't allow it," said Claverton.

"The d.a.m.ned Britishers are made of salt--afraid of a little rain,"

growled Thorman, in a low tone, at the other side of the room.

Jeffreys, to whom the remark was addressed, and who had reasons of his own for abhorring the "imported" element, acquiesced in the sneer, and just then they were summoned to breakfast. It cleared in the afternoon with startling suddenness, and as the equestrians started for home, the blue sky was without a cloud.

"This is lovely," exclaimed Ethel, as they cantered along; "but,"--and the bright laughing face clouded--"isn't it a nuisance? Will Jeffreys is going back with us."

"What, all the way?" said Claverton. "I thought we were going to choke him off at Van Rooyen's, where we picked him up."

"No such luck. He's going back to Seringa Vale; at least, so Mr Armitage says."

"Oh, that may be only Jack's chaff; but--"

He checked himself as something seemed to strike him. "Bosh!" he thought, "Jack only sees that she rather hates the bullet-headed fool, and is trying to take a rise out of her." Then aloud: "That fellow Jack is a confounded nuisance at times, and yet on the whole I think he's an acquisition."

"Oh, yes; he makes one laugh so often, which is a great thing. Just look at him now, for instance."

Both turned to watch the interesting object of their discussion, who was evidently about to keep up his reputation--for Allen, whose decrepit steed had gone dead lame, and was incapable of carrying him, had received the loan of the volatile Waschbank, which sprightly quadruped was evidently rather more than a handful to him. Armitage perceiving this, delighted to get behind and by dint of sundry clicking noises, softly articulated, to induce the already excited animal to plunge and shake his head frantically, and make violent attempts at bolting, to the dire discomfiture of the rider, who clutched the bridle spasmodically with both hands, holding on, as it were, "by the skin of his teeth."

"It's rather a shame," mused Claverton, as they contemplated the performance. "Why can't he let the poor devil alone, even for half an hour? Allen isn't a bad fellow, although he's an a.s.s in some things."

"Look out, Allen. Hold on, pay out your rein, or, by George, he'll have you off!" Armitage was saying, while Jeffreys rode behind sardonically enjoying the other's discomfiture. And the warning came none too soon, for Waschbank, finding the increased pressure of the rather sharp curb, which his rider was bearing on more and more heavily, defied his frantic attempts at a bolt, sought to vary the entertainment by suddenly rearing. Then as Allen, in a panic, quickly slackened the reins, grasping at the same time a bit of the mane, away went Waschbank with a rush and a snort, his rider still clinging on like grim Death. But this was not to last long, for one of the said rider's long spurs digging violently into his flank, the animal put down his head, and springing into the air, all four feet at once, promptly shot the hapless Allen into s.p.a.ce and a thorn-bush which grew handy. Then after vainly endeavouring in the course of half-a-dozen more "bucks" to rid himself of his saddle, the amiable brute gave a loud snort and started for home at a hand gallop.

"Hallo, Allen!" cried Claverton, dismounting to haul him out of the bush. "Jump up, old man. Not hurt, are you? That's it?" as the other staggered to his feet groaning and wincing; as well he might, for his "continuations" were stuck as full of thorns as a well-stocked pincushion is of pins. "Better thorns than broken bones, you know.

What's to be done? At the rate that brute's going he'll be within a hundred yards of Buffel's Kloof by now, or we might have exchanged.

Sticks is as quiet as a village scold on board the ducking-stool."

"Plenty more thorn-bushes," sneered Jeffreys, in a load aside. "But it's a safe enough offer now that Waschbank's gone home."

"I say," began Jack, in mock concern, "what are we to do? Toss up who shall pursue the absconding Waschbank with a pinch of salt, eh?"

"Humbugging apart, though," said Claverton, "we are only about a mile from Van Rooyen's; the best thing for Allen to do will be to walk on there, and the Dutchman will be able to rig him out with some sort of a mount to take him home."

This was arranged, and they rode on.

"I think Jack carries his jokes too far sometimes," remarked Claverton.

"He'll find his level some day."

They soon arrived at Van Rooyen's, and the Dutchman, having enjoyed a hearty laugh over poor Allen's mishap, sent for the steadiest old roadster in his paddock and mounted the dethroned hero thereon; and after resting an hour, which somehow had nearly dragged itself out to two, the party were in the saddle again, bound for their respective homes. But it is the Seringa Vale quartette--for the obnoxious Jeffreys had, after all, left them at Van Rooyen's--whom we shall now follow. It was late when they left Buffel's Kloof, and now, as they rode over the rising ground which shut the Dutchman's farmstead from sight behind, the very short gloaming of a South African day was already drawing in.

"I don't know how it is; as a rule I enjoy a ride at night," said Ethel, "but this evening I can't help wishing we were safe at home, I feel quite low and nervous;" and she shivered.

"I know how it is. You've caught cold," replied her companion. "It's a particularly warm evening, and you're shivering as if it were mid-winter. Here--wait a bit--and put this on."

In a trice he had unstrapped an ample waterproof cloak from his saddle, and, dismounting, wrapped it twice round her, tightly and securely, yet so as not to impede the management of the reins.

"Thanks. No, I wasn't cold--it's very absurd--but I feel as if something dreadful was going to happen. A kind of presentiment."

"Nonsense, child. You have been catching cold; but we shall both be catching it hot soon for being so outrageously late. Come along, here's a nice level bit, and those two are a good mile ahead."

"Yes, it's too absurd of me," she said, as they cantered on; "but--I felt a drop of rain."

They looked up. Sure enough the sky had suddenly clouded over, and several large raindrops splashed down upon the road.

"We are in for a shower, I'm afraid," said Claverton. "Nothing for it but leg-bail. However, that ancient garment will keep you as dry as a chip, unless it has suddenly performed the feat in physiology which Holy Writ a.s.sociates with the Ethiopian."