With Rifle and Bayonet Part 42

"Where from? Answer quickly, or I fire!"

"From Mafeking, with despatches," Jack replied unsuspectingly.

"Advance, friend, and give the countersign!" the sentry now called out; and as soon as Jack and Riley had approached within ten yards he shouted, "Halt! Lay down your arms at once--you are prisoners!"

"Trapped, by Jove!" shouted Jack, s.n.a.t.c.hing at his rifle; but before he could lift it a dozen other dark figures rose beside the sentry and covered him with their weapons. To resist would have been madness, and a minute later Jack and his friend were disarmed and being taken back towards the Boer camp at Magersfontein, Riley still mounted on his pony.

"What hard luck!" cried the latter bitterly. "We were within a couple of miles of our friends, and after all the trouble we had taken we deserved to get in safely."

"Yes, it was rough luck," Jack agreed cheerfully. "But it is the fortune of war, and there is no use worrying about it. I should not have minded so much if I had had a fight for it. To be taken without firing a shot is humiliating. But now we have nothing to do but to escape. I've managed that once before, and I'll do it again if the chance comes."

"Then I hope you'll take me with you," said Riley eagerly. "I've no special wish to spend my days a prisoner in Pretoria."

Soon after sunrise that morning the two prisoners were brought into the enemy's camp, and Riley was at once taken to the hospital and placed in charge of a Scotch surgeon who had been commandeered by the Boers. Jack was taken across to a large bell-tent, standing apart from the others in an open s.p.a.ce, and ushered into it. It was most elaborately furnished.

The floor was carpeted, and there was a handsome bra.s.s bedstead and a writing-table, seated behind which was a short, shabby, and vindictive-looking man, with iron-grey beard and whiskers, unkempt and undipped, and almost concealing a powerful-looking mouth, and eyes which flashed fiercely at the stranger Englishman. It was General Cronje, a man who had taken a prominent part in the first Boer war, and who had earned for himself the contempt of all Englishmen for his treacherous behaviour.

"Who are you?" he demanded, looking searchingly at Jack's face.

"I am Jack Somerton, a despatch-rider, and now a prisoner in your hands," Jack answered coolly. "Where are your despatches?"

"I don't know, general," was Jack's calm reply, for, sharp of wit, he had torn and scattered his papers on the veldt the instant after being taken prisoner.

"Search him!" cried General Cronje. And then, as soon as Jack's clothes had been thoroughly examined, he ordered him to be taken away.

Careless of the black looks with which the general favoured him, Jack swept his hat off and stalked unconcernedly out of the tent. He was then taken across to a large wagon laager, and given in charge of an armed sentry.

Ten days pa.s.sed quietly, and during that time he was well treated, and was on good terms with his captors. On the 14th of the month there was a sudden stir in the camp, and mounted men galloped in and out.

"What is the matter?" Jack asked the young sentry who was in charge of him.

"Our scouts say that your countrymen are moving," the Boer replied.

"General French--that is what you call him, I think,--has been active.

He and a lot of English guns and hors.e.m.e.n marched on Sunday to Ramdan, and next day pushed on to the Riet river. There was a fight, and we gave way, as it is not policy to prevent a foolish man running his nose into a trap. I hear he is now at the Rondeval Drift, on the Modder River, where we are again playing with him. Some fools here say he threatens our flank, but our general knows better. You will see, we shall eat up your general, and then we shall march south to Cape Town."

Jack did not correct him, but smiled secretly, hoping and believing that the big movement of which he had carried the first tidings to Kimberley and Mafeking was at last actually begun. He knew that for more than a month much work had been going on in the British camp, and if the news he had just learnt were really true, it was extremely probable that Roberts and his troops were about to strike that blow at the Boer forces which should mean the turning of the tide, and a full compensation for all the care and thought taken in making their preparations.

On the following morning a wild-looking Boer galloped up to General Cronje, who was sitting smoking and sipping coffee outside his tent, and in an excited voice informed him that the British had crossed the Modder and had captured five laagers, full of stores, 2000 sheep, and a large number of cattle.

Jack happened to be near the general at the time, and his guard, who was a friendly young Boer, interpreted what was said.

At first the news evidently caused the general some excitement, and he rose to his feet and walked restlessly up and down. Then he suddenly sat down, lit his pipe again, and smiled sourly.

"Let them take the laagers," he said in a rasping voice. "What does it matter? We shall take them back again. These Englishmen are brave, but they are fools, and have no cunning. You shall see. We will turn on him and eat up completely this General French and his men."

Three other Boer leaders were standing near at hand, and as Cronje finished speaking, two of them nodded sagely and e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed: "Ja, Ja! we shall take the English soldiers. They are not wise."

The third, however, who was a Free State burgher, differed.

"These English are not such fools as you think," he said shortly. "I tell you, there is a big force advancing on our flank, and unless we do something, and at once, we shall ourselves be captured."

"Nonsense, nonsense, you are too timid!" exclaimed Cronje fiercely, turning on him and scowling angrily at him.

The Free State commandant was on the point of answering back, and commencing a quarrel with his superior, when two more hors.e.m.e.n galloped up and reported news of the gravest importance. General French, accompanied by a column of some 10,000 mounted men and guns, was pushing straight forward for Kimberley, and the British foot were following, and already threatened the road to Bloemfontein.

Instantly all was confusion in the Boer camp. Valuables were hastily thrown into wagons, and within a very short time Gronje and his forces were in full retreat, a long column streaming across the veldt on the way to Bloemfontein, while a second and smaller one went north. Behind them they left all their stores, and even their dinners, which in the hour of departure they were unable to eat.

Jack was marched between two ruffianly-looking Boers with the first column, and watched with secret satisfaction the confusion that reigned everywhere, and the downcast looks of the men who had boasted only a few hours before that the British were in their hands.

At the head of the column, sullen and dejected, rode Cronje, and on either flank and far behind were Boer skirmishers ready to guard the long line of wagons.

All day they pushed forward, resting frequently to allow the tired oxen and mules to lie down. At night a laager was formed, but by daylight the long column had taken the road again, and was pressing forward in feverish haste towards Bloemfontein. Then came rifle shots in the distance, and with his gla.s.ses, which had fortunately not been taken from him, Jack made out men in khaki marching across the veldt some miles away.

They were the plucky soldiers of General Kelly-Kenny's division, and now, having come up with the enemy after forced marches, they showed that they were determined that he should not slip through their fingers.

On the following morning Cronje and his forces were completely surrounded and hemmed in, for the British troops had engaged fiercely, and had compelled the Boer general to laager in the dry bed of the Modder river and stop his progress towards Bloemfontein. Then foot by foot they had crept round him, and on Sunday morning, when Jack looked out, men in khaki were all round, and he knew that Cronje and his force of some 6000 Boers were doomed.

In the camp were a few other English prisoners, including Riley, and these at once set to work with spade and pickaxe, and, copying the methods of the Boers, dug deeply into the ground and then tunnelled beneath it, forming large bomb-proof chambers. And in these for four awful days they lived, never daring to emerge save at night. And all the time the British troops swept the laager, which was spread over an area of some two miles, and devastated it with lyddite and shrapnel, killing most of the draught animals and setting fire to the wagons. But no one has ever equalled the Boers at trench-digging. In a marvellous manner they constructed bomb-proof chambers, and sat there for the most part safe from the British fire. But others of them tried to keep down the volleys of our soldiers, and amongst these death was soon busy.

On the 27th of February, celebrated all over the Boer dominions as Majuba Day, Cronje and his forces capitulated unconditionally, and, throwing down their arms, marched as prisoners into the British camp.

With them were many women and children who had come from their homes to Magersfontein expressly to celebrate Majuba Day.

It was a glorious success, our first real one. And added to it all was the news that General French and his mounted men had relieved the invested and sorely-straitened town of Kimberley on the 15th.

When Jack entered Lord Roberts's camp he was greeted by many friends and acquaintances, and eagerly questioned as to his experiences. Then he was conducted to the general's tent, and gave the verbal messages entrusted to him by B.-P.

"Now, Riley," he said, as soon as he was at liberty once more, "what are you going to do with yourself? I am going to Kimberley, and if you have nothing particular to take you down to Cape Town you had better come with me. A week or so's rest will do you all the good in the world, for you are still far from strong upon your legs."

"There is no reason for me to go anywhere in particular, old chap,"

Riley answered. "I have no friends down this way, and may just as well stay in Kimberley till the road to Mafeking is open again. Yes, if you have business in Kimberley I will go along with you."

"Well," said Jack rather shamefacedly, "I cannot say that it is exactly business that takes me to the town. The fact is I am engaged to Miss Eileen Russel, and am anxious to find out how she is."

"What, Eileen Russel, daughter of the colonist whose house was bombarded at the commencement of the war!" cried Riley in astonishment. "Yes, his house was attacked," answered Jack, smiling.

"By Jove, then, you must be the fellow we all heard about!" shouted Riley, seizing Jack by the hand; "and now I understand why I could not make out where I met you before. Of course it was in Mafeking, and I remember you left us, to ride north. Good heavens, man! to think that we have been together all these days and you have never mentioned it!

Why, the fame of that beating you fellows gave the Boers close to Kimberley has gone everywhere. Shake hands again, old man, and when we reach Kimberley I shall make a point of seeing this young lady and telling her what a brick you are."

Two days later Jack and his friend left the English camp, and, pa.s.sing through the lines of the Canadian troops, who had distinguished themselves for their bravery during the whole campaign, and especially in the attack upon the Boer laager, they trotted across the open veldt to Kimberley.

Tom Salter was the first to meet them, and at once conducted Jack to the house in which the Russels had now taken up their quarters.

"There you are, lad," he said kindly, patting Jack on his broad back; "the girl's in there, just crying her eyes out for you, and fancying you've been hurt. The news came over yesterday that you had been found in Cronje's laager, and as nothing was said as to your being dead or alive, she has naturally been in a state of anxiety ever since. You go in, old boy, and I'll take care of Riley. We'll come along in half an hour and have a yarn."

There is no need to tell of the joy of the meeting between stalwart Jack and his future bride. Of this be sure, the half-hour flew by so quickly that it seemed to be only a few minutes before Tom and Riley turned up again.

"What do you think of the town now?" asked the former, eyeing Jack quizzically. "I can tell you, my lad, it's a tremendous relief to be free from those Boers and have plenty of good food and water again. I shall never forget that day when General French marched in. You'd have thought we were a lot of babies. The street was crammed with yelling crowds of pale, sickly-looking men, who had lived for weeks on less than half the accustomed amount, and I know that many a one was too feeble to choke back his sobs. And the women and the kids--G.o.d bless them!--just held up their arms and blubbered. I felt just like a girl. But it's all over now, and we're beginning to live like decent folks again, up in the air and daylight."

"Yes," Jack agreed, "you have had a terrible experience, and have come out of it wonderfully. Now it will be our turn to advance upon the Boer towns and retaliate."