With Rifle and Bayonet Part 33

"Why, who's this?" the officer demanded a second later, as Guy was brought up a prisoner and halted in front of him between two Highlanders with fixed bayonets.

"Don't know, sir," one of the men answered shortly, with a Scotch accent. "He was firing away like mad down the hill, and there were a couple of dead Boers at his feet lying over a pile of rifles."

"That's my friend who was helping me, Rawlings," Jack explained hastily.

"Look here; how long are you likely to be on this hill?"

"Just as long as it takes to blow this infernal gun to pieces," the officer coolly replied. "Why do you want to know? Can I help you?"

"Yes, we left a poor English lady and her child down there," Jack answered, pointing down the hill. "I'll go and fetch her, and then we will all get back together."

"That'll suit me, Somerton," Rawlings replied. "A lady in distress, old boy, and you never need appeal twice to a soldier. Cut along then, and get back as soon as you can. Sergeant, detail three men to help. Quick about it, lads! Sing out when you're near again."

A minute later Jack and his escort were tearing down the hill, and having found Mrs Robb, returned with her to their friends.

"Ah! you're there, are you, Somerton?" Rawlings cried calmly. "All right then! slip along down the hill and we'll follow you. Now, where's the lantern? That's it. Line the top of the hill, boys, till the fuse begins to splutter. Then we'll run for it."

It was an exciting moment, and Jack, who had stayed behind, revelled in it, for this was just the kind of hazardous work that he enjoyed. But by this time the fuse was burning brightly, and the Highlanders fell back, having placed a heavy charge of gun-cotton in the breech of the Creuzot gun.

Five minutes later there was a loud report, and the breech had been blown to atoms and the rifling destroyed.

But it must not be supposed that all this time the sortie party had been left undisturbed. On the contrary, a dash, which had at first been merely in the nature of a gallant attempt to destroy a gun which had annoyed the garrison in the camp below, had now developed into a sharp affair. Recovering from their first surprise, the Boers on the left of the hill had leapt from their hard couches, and had moved upwards against the British troops in extended order. Soon their bullets began to swish close to the gun, and one or two of the Highlanders were wounded. But the others lay down behind boulders, and soon their rifle fire was answering the flashes below.

Immediately the fuse had become fairly alight the officer drew off his men, and, carrying the wounded, moved down the hill towards the camp. A minute later and Mrs Robb and her child were in the centre.

"Look out, sir!" the sergeant shouted at this moment; "they've got between us and the camp!"

"Then are you ready with those bayonets?" Rawlings cried cheerfully.

"Charge right through them!"

Five minutes of wild, fierce fighting followed, for British troops, whether English, Irish, or Scotch, are perfect demons when their blood is roused and they are armed with that deadly weapon which none know better how to use. It seems to be an understood thing with them that, however much firing of guns there may be, and however thickly the bullets may fly, matters are not satisfactory and ended as they should be unless the bugle sounds "the charge", and they rush with a cheer and hurl themselves upon the enemy.

The brave Highlanders, with their kilts blowing from side to side, rushed headlong at the Boers, and simply split them into two parties.

Then they turned upon each one, and with a savage fierceness and a splendid disregard of the danger they incurred, forged a way into them and thrust them back at the points of the murderous bayonets.

Prominent amongst them was the giant who had ended Hans Schloss's career, and by his side, using a bayonet which he had taken from a wounded soldier, was Jack Somerton, using it too with a vigour and a quickness which sent many a Boer to his last account.

"Get together there, me boys!" the Highlander by his side shouted.

"Now, at 'em! Remember Majuba, and give them a taste of your steel!"

His comrades answered with a hoa.r.s.e cheer, and shouting "Remember Majuba!" fell upon the remaining Boers and put them to flight. Then they picked up those who had fallen and returned slowly to the camp, a rearguard marching behind them and answering the volleys discharged at them with a brisk fusillade.

Soon they were out of harm's way, and stepped forward to the inspiriting wail of a bagpipe. About half an hour later it became light, and the whole garrison of Ladysmith who were free to do so turned out to welcome them. They had heard the firing, seen the flash of the gun-cotton which had destroyed the gun, and so learned that some of their number were making a sortie. It was a surprise to them as much as to the enemy; but to have published the news the day before would have meant a certain reverse, for in the town and camp, fraternising with our troops, were still men bought with Pretoria gold--spies and traitors who lived in the guise of harmless and refugee civilians, and yet were ready to send news of intended movements to the Boers.

But now that the sortie was an accomplished fact, and had proved such a signal success, the troops flocked out in hundreds and cheered the gallant party, relieving of their burdens those who were carrying the wounded.

Then a couple of ambulance wagons galloped up, and while one of them halted and took in the poor fellows, the other went ahead, one of the surgeons climbing in behind. A few hundred yards farther on a sh.e.l.l dropped and exploded near them, and a groan burst from all who were watching; for the work done for all who were helpless or hurt, by the medical staff, had already roused a feeling of deep grat.i.tude in the hearts of the men.

Undaunted by the sh.e.l.l, and by another which quickly followed it, the ambulance wagon galloped on, a white flag with the red cross of Geneva flying above it. On arriving close to the hill, the surgeon was seen to leap out, and, followed by four stretcher-bearers, to walk hither and thither in search of the one or two men who had been left behind. Soon they found them, in the midst of a pile of wounded Boers, and, carrying them to the wagon, returned to the camp at a leisurely pace, the enemy this time letting them go unmolested.

Meanwhile the sortie party had almost been carried to their tents, while the officer who had been in command turned to the strangers who had so strangely joined his forces.

"What's the matter, Somerton?" he cried. "You look awfully white. Not hit, I hope?"

"Oh, I'm all right! It's nothing, thanks!" Jack answered. But his looks belied his words. He was deadly pale. His head was in a whirl, and now that all the excitement and danger was over, the power to control his feelings deserted him. His rifle dropped from his hand, he staggered forward, and fell senseless at the feet of his astonished friends.

Guy rushed to his side, and with the help of Rawlings, Mr Hunter, and Mr Richardson carried him to a field hospital which happened to be near. There it was found that a bullet had struck the magazine of his Mauser pistol, and, exploding the ammunition, had shattered the weapon and torn a deep wound in his side. But, strange to say, Jack had barely felt it at the time, though on the way back to the camp the pain had been excruciating. He had received the wound when charging with the bayonet, and the loss of blood which followed had at last told upon his strength.

When he recovered consciousness he was lying in a comfortable cot in a huge marquee, in which were fifteen others. In front of him, calmly st.i.tching beneath the flap-like awning, was an army nursing sister, one of that band of n.o.ble women who follow our armies everywhere. She was st.i.tching quietly, and seemed quite unconcerned when sh.e.l.l after sh.e.l.l, thrown from the Boer guns, fell in the camp.

Jack stirred, and at once gave vent to a sharp cry of pain, for the slightest movement caused him agony.

"Ah, so you've come to at last!" said the sister in a gentle voice, jumping up from her seat and coming to the side of his cot. "Now you must drink this. It is nasty stuff, but will do you good, and to-morrow, if you are strong enough, I will tell you how my life has been pestered these last two days by the hundreds of friends who have called to ask after you."

"Friends!" said Jack feebly. "What friends? I have only a few here."

"You have far more than you imagine," the sister replied with a smile.

"But I am disobeying orders. You are not to talk."

With gentle hands she arranged his pillows and saw that he was comfortable, and Jack fell into an easy sleep as he was in the act of thanking her.

But on the following day he was unconscious again, for his wound was inflamed and he was in the height of a fever. Against this his iron const.i.tution fought for two long weeks, during which he was tenderly looked after by the nurse, and watched with anxious feeling by the surgeons. And all this time Guy and his father and Mr Hunter hovered outside in the depths of despair, waiting impatiently for the first good news of their friend.

At last one day he showed signs of improvement, and two weeks later was rapidly recovering. The change in his condition caused a wave of gladness to spread over the beleaguered town, for Guy and his n.o.ble comrade, to whom he unstintingly and generously gave most of the credit, were the heroes of Ladysmith. Their adventures were detailed round many a camp fire, and if one soldier puffed more fiercely at his pipe, and swore beneath his breath that Jack was a downright good fellow, hundreds did, from the officers downwards.

As for Mrs Robb, the forlorn but brave little English lady whom the two young fellows had befriended at such risk to themselves, she was now quite happy once more, for her husband had escaped from his captors and had joined her in the camp.

And now to return for one brief moment to Frampton Grange, the family seat of the Somertons, and the amiable mistress and youth who resided there. Jack's accident in London and his voyage to Africa had long ceased to be topics of interest to them, and, indeed, beyond wondering occasionally what had become of him, they never troubled themselves about him. Jack had written to them several times, but neither Mrs Somerton nor Frank had deigned to respond, and in consequence he had for months kept silent, so that they had no idea of his whereabouts.

But Dr Hanly was a regular correspondent of Jack's, and when the latter wrote and said that they were on the eve of war, and that he should volunteer for service, the doctor sent the letter down to the Grange, so that Mrs Somerton might read it.

Who shall say what were the thoughts of this disappointed woman, or of the worldly son who lived with her? Frampton Grange was a charming and luxurious residence, and the legacy to which Jack was ent.i.tled at a certain age was by no means a small one. What if something happened to him? Then all would come to Mrs Somerton, and in due course to Frank.

The very thought of it made the latter more unbearable, his airs and graces grew even more exasperating, and he finally became a veritable ruler of the house, with the result that there were many changes in the household. The first to leave was the old butler, who had been for years in the service of the family, and then one by one the other domestics quitted the house.

Kruger's ultimatum was delivered, hostilities commenced, and mother and son scanned the newspapers and the long list of casualties with expectant feelings. Judge of their disappointment, then, when, instead of wounded, killed, or missing, Jack's name appeared in large type, and beneath it a long article describing the adventures of a young Englishman, by name Jack Somerton, of a good old family at home, who had ridden from Kimberley to Johannesburg to aid the refugees, and had afterwards brought news to the beleaguered town, after having accomplished a gallant deed on the way.

No sooner had this appeared than another telegram announced his successful dash for Mafeking, and his subsequent daring ride to the north.

Then came silence. There was no news of him. Messages from Tuli and Mafeking stated that nothing further had been heard of him, and it was feared that he had been captured. But advices from Pretoria failed to mention his name amongst the lists of prisoners, and the master and mistress of Frampton Grange felt their hopes rise high.

But later, after more than a month of silence, the busy flash-light from Ladysmith explained how Jack Somerton had come n.o.bly to the fore again.

Dr Hanly was beside himself with pride and pleasure, and no sooner had he read the news than he darted off to the Grange and congratulated Mrs Somerton. He was an observant man, was this little doctor; given to thinking charitably of everyone; but when he saw the little enthusiasm his intelligence caused he was astounded and disgusted, and at once left the house with the firm intention of never going there again till Jack returned.

Dr Hanly was not the only neighbour who showed his appreciation of our hero's services to his country. From far and near people called to offer their congratulations, and letters poured in in shoals. So much so, indeed, that Mrs Somerton and her son gradually began to look upon the other side. They were not altogether bad or selfish, and in time they too, feeling a kind of reflected glory, began to think more kindly of the homeless lad they had treated so harshly. In this satisfactory condition we will leave them, and while Jack Somerton lies in his bed in that field hospital in the invested camp at Ladysmith we will return to the British troops in other parts of South Africa.

It will be remembered that on the receipt of Kruger's ultimatum England had despatched a large army over the 6000 miles of water which cut her off from South Africa, and this force had arrived at its destination in due course, armed and ready for war, and accompanied by supplies. In addition, local colonial forces were rapidly enlisted, for it was apparent to all that no one could approach so close to the Boers in slimness and astuteness in fighting as these hardy young sons of the old country, who, finding themselves crowded out by the more fortunate ones, had betaken themselves to this fair land of South Africa to set up new homes. And with them, to do all and every arm of the service justice, must be cla.s.sed the gallant volunteers from Australia, Canada, and New Zealand. For the most part used to a rough life in the bush, they proved most valuable scouts, and were as fine a body of men as could be met with.