Tween Snow and Fire Part 20

"We are four fools," said Payne laconically, knocking the ashes out of his pipe and pocketing that useful implement.

"_Ja_! That's so," said Carhayes, joining heartily in the laugh which greeted this remark. "And now, boys, are we on for the fun, that's the question?"

"We just are," cried Hoste, whose dare-devil recklessness was akin to that of Carhayes. The other two acquiesced silently, but as they caught each other's glance, a curious satirical twinkle lurked in the eyes of both men.

"A case of the tail wagging the dog," presently whispered Payne to Eustace. "Two wise men led by two fools!"

The track, rough and stony, took longer to follow than they had expected. Moreover they had to exercise extreme care, lest the clink of the hoof-stroke of a shod horse perchance stumbling on the rocky way should be borne to the quick, watchful ears of those they were following. At length, however, the brow of the ridge was gained, and there before them lay a rolling expanse of open country, yet not so open as Carhayes had predicted, for it was pretty thickly dotted with mimosa, and the gra.s.s was long, coa.r.s.e, and tangled, rendering rapid riding dangerous in parts.

Suddenly they came right upon a kraal nestling in a mimosa covered valley. Three old hags were seated against one of the beehive shaped huts, otherwise the place seemed quite deserted. No children were to be seen--not even a half-starved cur skulking around--and of men or cattle there was no sign. The spoor they were following had grown very indistinct, and here seemed to split up into several directions.

The old women, frightful, toothless crones, all wrinkles and flaps, showed no signs of alarm at this unexpected appearance of the invading white men. On the contrary, they began to abuse them roundly in a shrill, quavering treble.

"Macbeth _in excelsis_!" murmured Eustace at sight of them.

"Stop that cackling, you old h.e.l.l-cats!" said Carhayes with a growl like that of a savage dog, as he drew his revolver and pointed it right at them, a pantomime which they thoroughly understood, for their high-pitched abuse dropped to a most doleful howl. "Here, Eustace. You can patter the lingo better than any of us, and I haven't the patience, d.a.m.n it! Ask these old rag bags which way the fellows with the oxen took."

"We know nothing about men or oxen," came the prompt and whimpering reply.

"You do know. Tell us quickly!" repeated Eustace warningly.

Sullenly the first disclaimer was reiterated.

A furious expletive burst from Carhayes.

"We can't lose any more time being fooled by these infernal old hags!"

he cried. "If they don't tell us before I count five I'll put a bullet through each of them. Now--_Inye_--_zimbini_--_zintatu_..." [One-- two--three.]

"Hold hard, don't be a fool," warned Payne. "The shots are bound to be heard."

"So they are. I know a better trick than that." And striking a match Carhayes walked his horse up to the nearest hut. This was sufficient.

The old crones shrieked for mercy, while one of them quavered out:

"Ride that way, _abelungu_!" [White men] pointing in a direction they had not intended to take. "But you will have to ride far--very far."

Believing they had inspired sufficient terror to insure the truth of this information, and furiously cursing the time wasted in eliciting it, Carhayes crammed the spurs into his horse's flanks and started off at a gallop, followed by the other three. But the old crone's statement proved correct. A couple of miles further the tracks, which had been more or less scattered and indistinct, converged into one broad spoor.

Another ridge, then down into a kloof, and up the other side. Then, as they gained the brow of yet another ridge, an excited e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n burst from the lips of all four. Nearly a mile in front, stringing up a long, gradual acclivity, trotted the thirteen oxen, urged forward by three natives.

"Hurrah! Now we'll cut 'em out!" yelled Carhayes, as they dashed forward in pursuit. The Kafirs, loath to abandon their spoil until absolutely forced to do so, redoubled their efforts, as with loud shouts and waving karosses they strove to accelerate the pace of the already overdriven animals.

"We'd better risk a long shot," shouted Hoste, as it became apparent that the pursued were very near the top of the rise, and in another moment would be out of sight. "There may be a lot of bush, on the other side, and we may lose them."

"No. Better not lose time or distance," said the more prudent Payne.

"We'll have 'em directly."

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

"ONWARD THEY PLY--IN DREADFUL RACE."

The Kafirs, with their spoil, had disappeared, and on the pursuers gaining the ridge, there seemed, as Hoste had suggested, a pretty good chance of losing them altogether; for the mere depression of the ground down which they were racing, narrowed and deepened into a long, winding valley, thickly overgrown with mimosa bushes and tall gra.s.s. The marauders could now be seen straining every nerve to gain this--with their booty, if possible--if not, without it. Every shouted summons to them to stand or be shot seemed only to have the effect of causing them to redouble their efforts--winding in and out among the gra.s.s and thorn-bushes with the rapidity of serpents.

The pursuers were gaining. Rough and tangled as the ground now became, the speed of horses was bound to tell in the race. A few moments more and the spoil would be theirs. Suddenly, but very quietly, Eustace said:

"I say, you fellows--don't look round, but--turn your horses' heads and ride like the devil! _We are in a trap_!"

The amazed, the startled look that came upon the faces of those three would have been entertaining in the extreme, but for the seriousness of the occasion. However, they were men accustomed to critical situations.

Accordingly, they slackened, as directed, and suddenly headed round their horses as if they had decided to abandon the pursuit.

Not a minute too soon had come Eustace's discovery and warning. Like the pa.s.sing movement of a sudden gust, the gra.s.s and bushes rustled and waved, as a long line of ambushed savages sprang up on either side, and with a wild and deafening yell charged forward upon the thoroughly disconcerted and now sadly demoralised four.

The Kafirs had been lying hidden in horseshoe formation. Had our friends advanced a hundred yards further their doom would have been sealed. They would have been hemmed in completely. Happily, however, when Eustace uttered his warning, they had not quite got between the extremities of the "shoe."

As it stood, however, the situation was appalling to the last degree.

Terrified to madness, the horses became almost unmanageable, rearing and plunging in a perfect frenzy, of fear, and it was all that their riders could do to steer them through the bristling thorn-bushes, a single plunge into one of which would, at the rate they were going, hurl both steed and rider to the earth. And, again, the wild war-cry pealed through the valley, and every bush and tussock of gra.s.s seemed to _grow_ enemies--seemed to swarm with dark, sinuous forms, to blaze with the gleam of a.s.segai blades and rolling eyeb.a.l.l.s. The race for spoil had become a race for life.

There had been barely a hundred yards between them and their a.s.sailants when the latter first sprang up, and this distance had alarmingly decreased, for the nature of the ground, rough and overgrown with long, tangled gra.s.s, and the fact that they were being forced up-hill, tended to neutralise whatever advantage might lie with the mounted men.

Moreover the horses, in no small degree blown after their recent spurt, were not at their best, whereas the Kafir warriors, active, hard as iron, had the advantage on that rough ground. On they pressed--their lithe, sinuous, ochre-greased bodies flashing through the gra.s.s like serpents--whooping, shouting, rending the air with their shrill, ear-splitting war-whistles. Although many of them had guns, yet not a shot was fired. Either those who led did not care to waste time in stopping to aim, and those who were behind feared to injure their friends in front; or for some reason of their own they were anxious to capture the white men alive. On it sped, that fearful race, the pursuers slowly but surely gaining. And now, from the swarming numbers of the main body, "horns" began to spread out at an angle to the line of flight as though to close up and intercept them further on, at some point best known to themselves.

It was a case of every man for himself. Hoste and Payne had gained some slight start, Eustace and Carhayes bringing up the rear. The latter, gripping his revolver, was in the act of delivering a shot into the thick of a ma.s.s of warriors who had raced up to within ten yards of them, when his horse stumbled. The animal had put its foot into an ant-bear hole concealed in the long gra.s.s. Down it came, plunging heavily forward on its nose, and shooting its rider over its head.

A deafening roar of exultation went up from the pursuers as they flung themselves upon Carhayes. Still, half-stunned as he was, the desperate pluck of the unfortunate man caused him to make an effort to rise. Only an effort though. As he rose to his knees he was beaten to the ground in a moment beneath the savage blows of the kerries of his a.s.sailants.

Eustace heard the crash of the fall, and turning his head, in spite of the deadly risk he ran in suffering his attention to wander from his own course even for a second, he took in the whole scene--the crowd of whooping, excited barbarians, cl.u.s.tering round the fallen man, a.s.segais and kerries waving in the air, then the dull, sickening sound of blows.

And even in that moment of deadly peril, his own fate as hopeless as that of the slain man, a thrill of fierce exultation shot through him.

Fortune had once more played into his hands. Eanswyth was his. He had got his second chance. This time it was out of his power to throw it away even had he wished to do so. Still--the mockery of it! It had come too late.

Meanwhile, Payne and Hoste, being the best mounted, had obtained some little start, but even upon them the extended lines of the fierce pursuers were beginning to close.

"Now, George--both together! Let 'em have it!" yelled Hoste, pointing his revolver at the foremost of a ma.s.s of Kafirs who were charging in upon them on his side. The ball sped. The savage, a tall, sinewy warrior, naked as at his birth save for a collar of jackals' teeth and a leather belt round his waist, leaped high in the air and fell stone dead, shot through the heart. At the same time Payne's pistol spoke, and another barbarian fell, his knee shattered by the bullet. Crack!

and down went another while in the act of poising his a.s.segai for a fling.

"Up-hill work, but nearly through!" cried Payne as he dropped another of the pursuers in his tracks. The frightened steeds, with ears thrown back and nostrils distended, tugged frantically at their bits as they tore along, but the agile barbarians seemed to keep pace with them, though they refrained from again attempting to close. But now they began to throw their a.s.segais. One of these grazed Payne's shoulder and stuck fast in the ground in front, quivering nervously. Another scored the flank of Hoste's horse, causing the poor animal to snort and bound with the sharp pain. Another stuck into Payne's boot, while a fourth hit Hoste fair between the shoulders, but having been hurled at long range and being withal a somewhat blunt weapon, it failed to penetrate the stout cord jacket.

"Devilish good shot, that," remarked the target. "But I say, George, where are the other fellows?"

"Dunno! It's a case of every man for himself now, and all his work cut out at that."

All this had been the work of but a few minutes, and now the brow of the hill was reached. A furious and bitter curse burst from the pair.

For on the plain beneath, converging upon their line of flight in such wise as to meet and utterly cut them off, extended two strong bodies of the enemy. These had circled round the hill, while the fugitives had been forced to the top of it, and now they would join hands before the latter could hope to pa.s.s through the rapidly closing circle.

"Through them, George. It's our only show!" cried Hoste. And with the reins gripped in his left hand and his revolver in his right, he sat down to his saddle for the last and final charge. It was a wildly exciting moment--the issues, life or death.

The lines were rapidly closing in. With maddened yells and a.s.segais uplifted, the Kafir warriors were straining every effort to complete that fatal circle. A few yards more--twenty--ten! it was done. They were hemmed in.

But the headlong, dashing valour of the two men stood them well. Not a moment did they pause. With a wild shout Hoste put his horse straight at a huge barbarian who strove to stop him--knocking the savage sprawling, and through the opening thus breached the two hors.e.m.e.n shot like an arrow from the bow, and having the advantage of a down-hill course they left the fierce and yelling crowd behind in a trice. Far from safe were they yet. A hole concealed in the gra.s.s--a strained sinew--a hundred unforeseen circ.u.mstances--and they would be at the mercy of their merciless foes.