The Kopje Garrison Part 64

"Well, we've stopped that game for the present, sergeant," said d.i.c.kenson. "Perhaps we may be able to keep them off till night.-But that's a long way off," he said to himself, "and we've to fight against this scorching heat and the hunger and thirst."

"Hope so, sir," said the sergeant, in response to what he had heard; "but-"

He ceased speaking, and pointed in the direction of the patch of scrub forest where they had pa.s.sed the night.

d.i.c.kenson shaded his eyes and uttered an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n. Then after another long glance: "Ten-twenty-thirty," he said, as he watched two lines of mounted men cantering out from behind the patch right and left. "Why, there must be quite thirty more."

"I should say forty of 'em, sir."

"Why, sergeant, they're moving out to surround us."

"Yes, sir," said the sergeant coolly; "but you won't surrender?"

"Not while the cartridges last."

"Well, there's enough to account for the lot, sir, if we hand in ours and you do the firing."

The young officer burst into a forced laugh.

"Why, sergeant," he cried, "what do you take me for?"

"Soldier of the Queen, sir, ready to show the enemy that our march at the Jubilee wasn't all meant for show."

d.i.c.kenson was silent for a time.

"Ha!" he said at last, with a sigh. "I want to prove that; but there are times when holding out ceases to be justifiable-fighting becomes mere butchery."

"Yes, sir, when forty or fifty men surround four and a wounded one, shoot down their mounts so as they can't retreat, and then try and butcher them. It's all on their side, sir, not ours; and the men think as I do."

d.i.c.kenson was silent again, lying there with his teeth set and a peculiar hard look in his eyes, such as a man in the flower of his youth and strength might show when he knows the time is fast approaching for everything to end. Meanwhile the two fresh parties that had come on the scene were galloping hard to join the enclosing wings of the first comers, who stood fast, fully grasping what was to follow, and keeping the attention of their prey by firing a shot now and then, not one of which had the slightest effect.

"Oh for some water!" groaned d.i.c.kenson at last. "Poor Mr Lennox! How he must suffer!"

"Not he, sir. He's in that state that when he wakes up he'll know nothing about what has taken place. It's you that ought to have the drink, to steady your hand for what is to come."

d.i.c.kenson made no reply aloud, but he thought bitterly, "When he wakes up-when he wakes up! Where will it be: the Boer prison camp, or in the other world?"

The sergeant and the men now relapsed into a moody silence, as they lay, rifle in hand, with the sun beating down in increasing force, and a terrible thirst a.s.sailing them. d.i.c.kenson looked at their scowling faces, and a sudden impression attacked him that a feeling of resentment had arisen against him for not surrendering now that they were in such a hopeless condition. This increased till he could bear it no longer, and edging himself closer to the sergeant, he spoke to him upon the subject, with the result that the man broke into a harsh laugh.

"Don't you go thinking anything of that sort, sir, because you're wrong. Oh yes, they look savage enough, but it's only because they feel ugly. We're all three what you may call dangerous, sir. The lads want to get at the enemy to make them pay for what we're suffering. Here, you ask them yourself what they think about surrendering."

d.i.c.kenson did not hesitate, but left the sergeant, to crawl to the man beyond him, when just as he was close up a well-directed bullet struck up the sand and stones within a few inches of the man's face, half-blinding him for a time and making him forget discipline and the proximity of his officer, as he raged out a torrent of expletives against the Boer who had fired that shot.

"Let me look at your face, my lad," said d.i.c.kenson. "Are you much hurt?"

"Hurt, sir? No! It's only just as if some one had chucked a handful of dust into my eyes."

"Let me see."

A few deft applications of a finger removed the trouble from the man's eyes, and he smiled again, and then listened attentively to his officer's questions.

"Oh, it's as you think best, sir," he said at last; "but I wouldn't give up. We don't want to. All we're thinking about is giving the enemy another sickening for what they've done."

d.i.c.kenson crawled away to the other man-away to his right-to find him literally glowering when spoken to.

"What do the others say, sir-the sergeant and my comrade?"

"Never mind them," replied d.i.c.kenson. "I want to know how you feel."

"Well, sir," was the reply, "about an hour ago I felt regular sick of it, and that it would be about like throwing our lives away to hold out."

"That it would be better to surrender and chance our fate in a Boer prison?"

"Something of that sort, sir."

"And how do you feel now?"

"Just as if they've regularly got my dander up, sir. I only want to shoot as long as we've got a cartridge left. I'd give up then, for they'd never wait for us to get at them with the bayonet."

d.i.c.kenson said no more, but returned to his old place, watching the galloping Boers, who had now gone far enough to carry out their plans, and were stopping by twos to dismount and wait, this being continued till the little English party formed the centre of a very wide circle. Then a signal was made from the starting-point, and firing commenced.

Fortunately for the party it was at a tremendously long-range, for, after the way in which the enemy had suffered in regard to their ponies, they elected to keep what they considered to be outside the reach of the British rifles; and no reply was made, d.i.c.kenson declining to try and hit the poor beasts which formed the Boer shelter in a way which would only inflict a painful wound without disabling them from their masters' service.

"It would be waste of our cartridges, sergeant," he said.

"Yes, sir," was the reply; "perhaps it's best to wait. They'll be tempted into getting closer after a bit. Getting tired of it if they don't hit us, and make us put up a white flag for the doctor. Look at them. Oh, it's nonsense firing at such a distance. Their rifles carry right enough, but it's all guesswork; they can't take an aim."

The sergeant was right enough; but the bullets were dangerous, and they came now pretty rapidly from all round, striking with a vicious phit! which was terribly straining to the nerves. And all the time the heat of the sun grew more painful. There was not a breath of air; and the pull's of smoke when the enemy fired looked dim and distant, as if seen through a haze.

The sergeant made some allusion to the fact.

"Looks as if there was a change coming. There, sir, you can hardly see that man and horse."

"No," said d.i.c.kenson sadly, "but I think it's from the state of our eyes. I feel giddy, and mine are quite dim."

"Perhaps it is that, sir," said the sergeant. "Things look quite muddled up to me. Now turn a little and look yonder, out Groenfontein way."

d.i.c.kenson turned wearily, and winced, for three bullets came almost simultaneously, two with their vicious whiz-z! the other to cut up the ground and ricochet.

"Not hit, sir?" said the sergeant anxiously.

"No; but one shot was very near. Yes, I see what you mean: the Boers are mounting out in that direction. They're coming closer. We shall perhaps have a chance now," he cried, with more animation.

It seemed, though, that they were going to retire as they came, the circle being opened on the Groenfontein side and the men retiring in twos, to go on increasing in two groups, firing rapidly the while; but, to the surprise of the beleaguered party, the bullets ceased to whiz in their direction.

A dead silence fell upon the group, no one daring to speak the hope that was in him for fear of exciting his companions by an idea that might after all prove only to be imagination. Then all spoke together, and there was an excited cheer.

"Yes," cried d.i.c.kenson; "there's help coming. The Boers are retiring fast."