*CHAPTER X*
Many thousands of miles away from high-perched fir-clad Chillata--now nolonger rain-drenched and sad, but a white fairy-land of glistening iceand snow--a large column of mounted men was slowly toiling its waythrough a waste of rocky mountains. A weary-looking column it was, themen silent and sullen-faced; the animals dull-eyed, with their ribsshowing through tightly-stretched coats. On they crawled, mile aftermile, now breasting the side of some stony mountain, now sinking intothe airless depths of gloomy gorge or desolate valley. Lower and lowerdropped the sun, and then, with one last blinding flash of light, wasgone, leaving the western sky aflame with specks of burning cloud.
Rapidly the light began to fade, a veil of hazy blue blurred themountains, a few stars twinkled feebly overhead; and then at last camethe welcome order to halt. The men clambered wearily down, and led thehorses away to where a staff officer was standing, looking dubiouslydown at a few pools of muddy water, the remains of a sometime rushingtorrent. Directing and objurgating the sullen men, he remained till thelast beast had drunk and gone; and then he too turned away in search ofsuch cheer as he might hope to find in the Headquarter Mess.
For weeks past the present day's work had been but a repetition of itspredecessor: the rise before the dawn; the eventless trek through veldtand mountain; the bivouac in some hot valley, where alone water could behoped for; the dreamless sleep, hard upon the unappetising meal; andthen once more the awakening and profitless resumption of the march.For profitless it seemed, this pursuit of the elusive Dutchman, Van derTann, rebel and murderer, whose capture many had attempted, but all, sofar, failed to achieve.
Six weeks before, full of hope and confidence in their leader, despitethe gloomy prophecies of those who had attempted the task before, thiscolumn had started on its quest, and so far not one man of the hostilecommando had they seen; apparently at its ease, it kept just one marchahead, which distance, strive as he might, Colonel Bradford foundhimself powerless to lessen.
Gradually, in the column, hope had died out, and with its death came thelonging for the comforts of civilisation: hot baths, whiskey andcigarettes for the officers, beer and tobacco for the men--luxuries thatfor the past three weeks they had been without. The former grew slackand dispirited; the latter sullen, in the last few days, indeed, almostopenly mutinous, a state of things of which their leader was only toowell aware, and which in his heart, secretly as hopeless as theirs, heknew himself powerless to combat. He was thinking of these things, andeven meditating the abandonment of his quest, as he sat on the hillsideoverlooking the bivouac, and gloomily noted the air of unwillingnesspervading the men below.
Surely it was justifiable to give up now, he thought; he had done allthat a man could, but the task set was beyond him or anyone else; betterto accept the inevitable and go back. He was but wearing out men andhorses in a vain quest, and to force the march on was to risk thecatastrophe of mutiny and consequent ruin of his career. His authority,he knew well, only hung by a hair, and the mere writing out of ordersfor the next day had become a torment, so fearful was he of a flatrefusal to obey; only, last night their issue had been received with"booing"--a sound that had filled him with nervous dread. Despite hispresent despondency, Colonel Bradford's reputation was that of a goodand able commander; and since landing in the country five months beforehis career had been one of unbroken success. Cool in action, ready ofresource, and deeply read in military lore, he had, as a brigadecommander in the main body, won high opinions from superiors andsubordinates alike, and it had been in the full hope of a successfulissue that to him had been entrusted the capture of the notorious andhitherto undefeated Van der Tann.
Unsuspected by all, however, in Bradford's character there was a weakspot, which events so far had failed to discover, and that was theinability to hold on his way, unmoved by the opinions of those aroundhim. Give him a willing army to lead and all was well, but, let the menbecome discouraged and show hostility to authority, he also, only toosoon, came to share the one feeling and fear the other. The double taskof overcoming them as well as the enemy was beyond him--as it is to allsave the Marlboroughs and Wellingtons of history--and in the presentcrisis, instead of rooting up the sprouting weeds of insubordination,his sole desire, and that the most fatal of all, was to conciliate themalcontents, with the inevitable result that the murmuring grew dailylouder.
There was one, and, probably the only one in the column, who was notonly unaffected by the general depression, but rather stimulated by it,and that was Captain Hector Graeme. So far, in his novel _role_ ofA.D.C., he had failed to justify his selection for the post by GeneralQuentin; indeed, Bradford had many times thought hard things of theAdjutant-General to the Indian Forces, for providing him with a staffofficer so negligent and ignorant of his work.
On more than one occasion he had had just reason for complaint, Hector'sarrangements as to messing and the transport of his chief's baggagehaving only too often proved defective, while his cavalier treatment ofsenior officers had brought more than one rebuke on his careless head.His sartorial eccentricities, too, were a source of constant irritationto Colonel Bradford, for now that he was no longer a regimental officerhe had given free rein to his taste for original garments; and, bizarreas were many of the uniforms worn at that time in South Africa, Hector,in unconventionality and strangeness of attire, eclipsed them all.
Several times Bradford, stung by the remarks of distinguished visitorsto his Mess, had debated the advisability of sending Graeme about hisbusiness, or at any rate palming him off on some unwary new-comer, butsomehow he had never done so; and in the last fortnight had come to beglad of his forbearance. For during that time a surprising change hadcome over his A.D.C. In proportion as the spirits of the rest wentdown, his went up, and no matter how long or profitless the day Hectornever seemed tired or depressed, but, on the contrary, cheerful and fullof fight. And gradually Bradford, harassed by doubts and theunresponsiveness of his followers, began to turn to his erstwhileobnoxious A.D.C., whose confidence in ultimate success seemed toincrease daily, and who alone amongst his fellows appeared to bethoroughly enjoying the present expedition.
He looked at him now as he lay on his back close by, calm and content,the end of a "Pinhead" cigarette--given him a the rate of one daily byhis servant from the latter's scanty store--between his teeth, and, ashe looked, he sighed. He wished that he too could feel like that.Hector heard the sigh, and, instantly opening his eyes, sat up and gazedmeditatively at the mob of men and horses below.
"Hard as nails, those horses," he observed cheerfully, "do their thirtymiles a day easy now; never so fit in their lives before."
"I don't know what you call fit, Graeme," was the moody answer, "they'reall skin and bone. Worn out, that's what they are; look at the waythey're standing."
"Only healthily tired, they'll be bucking after a night's rest. The menseem a bit sullen though, the brutes. What the dickens do they want, Iwonder? Fine weather, grand country, and quite enough to eat. Damn it,they've not fed those mules yet. I'll soon see about that," rising ashe spoke.
"Better leave the men alone, Graeme; poor devils, they're tired too.For heaven's sake don't hustle them, they'll only lose their temper andanswer back."
"Lose their temper, will they? So will I, then, and I'll warrant mine'sworse than theirs."
"There's a time, Graeme, you know, when it's better to shut one'seyes--the velvet glove, you know;" but Hector had gone, and was nowmaking his way to where a group of men were sitting in a circle, at somedistance from the famished mules.
"Velvet glove be hanged," he muttered as he went; "that's all right whenthe steel hand's inside, not the flabby digits your gloves contain.Damn, you may be a devilish fine tactician or strategist, but you don'tunderstand men. I do, and always have," and he strode on, the light ofbattle in his eyes.
Sick with nervous apprehension, Bradford watched him approach the group,and, as he reached it, say something to one of
its members. The man,turning his head, looked up without rising, and then, with a shrug ofhis shoulders, was resuming his conversation when Hector rushed at him,seized him by the collar, and dragged him to his feet. The others jumpedup and gazed in astonishment at the intruder; a murmur of anger arose,but was almost instantaneously silenced, quelled by a fury such asstaggered their dull souls. For a few minutes the winged words flew,and then Bradford saw Hector wheel round on the first man and point tothe mules. Slowly the fellow was slouching off, when for the secondtime Graeme was on him, and, whirling him round, again spoke, when theman's hand went to his cap in a salute, and he stood stiffly atattention. Another order was given, on which the rest ranged themselvesinto line, were numbered off by fours--the proving being repeated threetimes before the requisite smartness was attained--and the men weremarched briskly away to the waiting mules, which they proceeded to feed,Hector supervising. This operation completed, he rejoined his chief.
"Bit and spur, not sugar, for a tired horse," he observed, resuming hisseat on the ground. "It's not the men's fault, though; they'd be allright if properly managed."
"What did you say to them, Graeme? It seems to have been prettyeffective, whatever it was."
"Cursed them well, sir, called them every name I could lay my tongue to.That big fellow I promised to shoot if he spoke again. I'd have done ittoo, devilish near thing as it was."
"What?"
"Certainly I would, it was him or me. Obedience I meant having, and ifhe wasn't going to give it, he'd have got hurt, that's all."
"This is not the German Army, Graeme."
"No, if it were we shouldn't keep the useless devils we do in command.Old Carthew, for instance; I wish you'd let me have a go at him, sir."
"Kindly remember, Graeme, you're speaking of a senior officer."
"Well, if I am, sir, I'm only saying what every one in the column knows.Why, last night at dinner, before his officers, he said that our presentexpedition was hopeless, and that he had reason to believe you thoughtso too."
Bradford was silent.
"Of course, he ought not to have said that, Graeme," he answered after apause, "but I'm afraid he's only expressing the general feeling."
"What does that matter, sir, if it's not yours?"
"But ... perhaps it is mine, Graeme; it's certainly that of my staffofficer, Major Godwin."
"Godwin? An old woman."
"Graeme!"
"So he is, if he advises giving up; and it's all very well for him, hewon't get the blame--you will. He'll probably say afterwards too, hewas all for going on, but you wouldn't."
Again Bradford was silent. From what he knew of staff officers, hethought that this was more than likely to be true, and the idea wasunpleasant. And then a fatal and ever-to-be-regretted moment ofweakness came over him, and he turned to Graeme.
"What would you advise, then?" he said. "I don't mind owning I'm done."
"Try for a bit longer, anyway," was the instant response. "Look here,Colonel, I, as you know, am not much of a tactician, but this is not aquestion of tactics; it's a question of our will against Van der Tann'sand my--ours is stronger than his; I know it."
"I don't follow you, Graeme," said Bradford, looking puzzled, for to himpsychology was an unknown region.
"Simply this, we've been after this fellow now for six weeks and one ofus must give, and that soon. The strain is too great to last. Our lotmay be bad, but think what his must be, with us always hanging on to hisheels, and never knowing when we're going to pounce on them. I know hegoes as fast as we do, faster perhaps, but so does the rabbit than thestoat, yet the stoat gets him in the end, because the rabbit's nervegoes and he chucks it."
"Yes, but the rabbit can't turn round and fight the stoat. Van der Tanncan; a nice plight we should be in if he were to attack us to-night.Regular _cul-de-sac_ this place we're in."
"Not much attack left in men who've been pursued for six weeks; besides,they're probably thinking the same about us."
"Hum, can't say I think much of your argument, Graeme. Let's go and havetea. I suppose we've not run out of that, have we? Coming? No? Well,don't go beyond the sentry line, these Dutchmen are always prowlingabout;" and Bradford rose and walked slowly away, leaving Hector seatedon the ground.
For a few minutes he remained there, and then, his Chief out of sight,sprang up, and, evading the none too alert sentries, made his way acrosscountry till he struck a rough sheep-track leading into the heart of themountains. "I'll think this out," he muttered. "I'll get him onsomehow, the faint-hearted fool, only another day or two, and we'll havethis fellow Van der Tann. He's close by somewhere. I don't know why Ithink so, but I'm sure of it. I wish to heaven I was in charge; give mea day only, and you wouldn't know that column. I'd..." And here histhoughts wandered off, as Hector's were wont to do, into a picture ofpersonal achievements.
He had just worked out the capture of the Dutchman, having seen everydetail of the march and subsequent fight vividly before him, and wasproceeding to give orders for the disposal of the prisoners, speaking--ahabit to which he had of late become prone--half-aloud as he did so,when, striking his foot violently against a stone, the pain brought himstraightway back to earth. With a sudden shock, he became aware of thedarkness and deep silence around him, and hurriedly striking a matchlooked at his watch, which by good luck he had not forgotten to wind theprevious night. It was close on eight, and at six he had started, whichmeant that he was now, at the pace he had come, well-nigh seven milesfrom the bivouac.
By this time dinner would be over, and a search-party probably out afterhim; he must get back at once, that is, if he could find his way, whichhe rather doubted, for he had been too deeply engrossed with mentalvisions to take much note of the road he had come by. He looked behindhim, in the hope of seeing the bivouac lights, but in vain--a wall ofmountains lay between. He turned off the track, and clambered up on toa peak of rock, thinking he could possibly see better from it.
For a few minutes he stood there, straining his eyes into the darkness,but no fires were visible, only the shadowy shapes of mountains on threesides, and on the fourth a black abyss, falling sheer from his feet.Suddenly he started, a thrill of excitement running through him, for fardown below him a faint spark of light was visible; it flickered,disappeared, and then shone out once more.
In a flash, Hector's imagination had rent the veil of darkness. Thelight stood revealed as a camp-fire, its disappearance caused by thefigures of passing Dutchmen, and a faint far-away sound from the depthsthe neighing of a horse. It--it was--it could only be--Van der Tann'sbivouac. Quivering, he stood staring down, but all was black once more;the glimmer had gone, and the sound, whatever it was, had ceased.
Visionary as the glimpse of the light had been, it was enough forHector. He had asked for a lever to move Bradford, and here was thehandle thrust out for him to seize. He then and there determined towork it. After all, he was the sole witness, and what he said no onecould dispute. It would force his Chief on, that was all that mattered;and if, afterwards, he should be proved wrong, and no commando was to befound, well, what of it? Bradford would possibly say hard things, mighteven dismiss him from his staff in disgrace, but that could not hurt himmuch.
He was obscure enough now, and were his Chief allowed to carry out hispresent intention of returning, a failure self-confessed, the cloudthat, in the future, would assuredly overhang Bradford's name, wouldalso serve to blot out altogether that of the failure's personal staffofficer. No, this was his chance, the last he would have, and take ithe would. His eyes shone, his jaw set, and, clambering down from therock, he regained the sheep-track, and set off at a run for the bivouac.
* * * * *
"Where the dickens has the fellow got to, d'you think, Godwin?" saidBradford, laying down the battered-looking novel he was reading by thelight of a camp-lantern.
Dinner was long since over in the Headquarter Mess, and the two weresitting
there alone, the rest of the party having retired to bed.
"Goodness knows, sir," answered the other, a long-nosed individual witha high forehead, who was generally supposed to be the ugliest man inSouth Africa: "he's nowhere in camp, for I've sent all round to see.Must have got through the sentries and been captured, or shot, orsomething. That jacket of his would be rather a prize for a Dutch lady,make her a nice combing-jacket."
"I particularly ordered him to keep within the boundaries," saidBradford irritably. "Damn the fellow, he's been more trouble to me thanthe whole of the rest of the column. But never mind about him now;about those orders, you understand, that we remain here to-morrow torest, and the next day start back?"
"You think it's no further use, sir?"
"None, I---- Hullo, who's this? Why it's--where the dickens have youbeen, Graeme? We've been hunting all over the bivouac for you,disobeying my orders again, I suppose, and----"
"I've found Van der Tann, Colonel," panted Graeme.
"What!"
"He's in a valley about seven miles away; his whole commando's there, Isaw it."
"North, south, east, or west?" asked Godwin, his green eyes fixed onHector's face.
"Oh, over there," pointing into the darkness.
"That's west," said the Chief of the Staff, "in which case we passedwithin a few miles of him to-day. Sure you saw him, Graeme?"
"Positive. I was quite close, crept down the mountain-side--almost aprecipice it was, too--and got within a hundred yards of them; therewere about five hundred, I should say."
"That coat of yours make you invisible, Graeme?" resumed Godwin,glancing at Bradford. "You must have gone through their sentries as youdid ours. Van der Tann's commando, sir," to Bradford, "is, as you know,a thousand strong, at least."
"Major Godwin, do you mean that I'm a liar?"
"Oh, be quiet, Graeme," said Bradford wearily. "remember to whom you'retalking. Do you mean seriously to tell me you have seen Van der Tann'scommando?"
"I do."
"You're quite sure you weren't deceived by the darkness, didn't mistakecattle for horses, for instance? It's a thing anybody might do, youknow."
"I'm quite sure, sir."
Bradford stared hard at him for a moment, and then looked towards hisChief of the Staff.
"What do you make of it, Godwin?" he said.
For a few seconds the long-nosed man made no answer; his green eyes werefixed upon Hector.
"I think, sir," he said after a pause, and a rather curious quaver wasin his voice, "I think it might be worth trying."
Another pause followed, and Bradford rose, and taking a map from hishaversack spread it on the table.
"Now, Graeme," he said, "show us as nearly as you can where this fellowlies."
"There," said Graeme, putting his finger on the map.
"Could you guide a column to the place, do you think?"
"Yes, blindfold."
Another pause, then Bradford spoke, with restored confidence in hisvoice--here was something tangible to fight, not an atmosphere--"Send tocommanding officers at once, please, Major Godwin," he said, "and tellthem to come here."
Godwin left, returning a few minutes afterwards.
"We shall want three columns," continued Bradford, "one here, one there,and another where Graeme was standing. You'll take one, Godwin, Ianother, and--and Carthew, I suppose, the third."
"For heaven's sake not him, sir," put in Graeme quickly.
"Kindly hold your tongue, sir, and don't interfere," answered Bradford,his assurance growing.
"But he won't get there, sir; it's a beast of a road, and he'll turnback for certain. It's courting failure to send him. Let me have thethird column, sir, I found the man."
"You, a Captain, utterly impossible," Bradford was beginning, whenHector received quite unlooked-for support.
"With all respect, sir," said Godwin, "I think, if it could be managed,Graeme's wish should be indulged. As he says, sir, he found the man,and----" but here once more the odd quaver sounded in the speaker'svoice; he paused, and then continued, "Apart from everything else, healone knows the track."
"But how the dickens can I? He'd be junior to the leader."
"I think I could arrange that, sir. Keep Colonel Carthew with you, andgive Graeme the Colonial troops. There are less than a hundred of them,quite enough for the third column, if what he says is right about theground. He said, didn't you, Graeme?" turning to the latter, "that youwere standing on the edge of a precipice, so they're hardly likely tobreak that way. Let him have Rufford's lot, sir; he's only a Captaintoo, and won't mind, I know."
"He's a Major by now, though his name is not in the 'Gazette' yet;besides, even as a Captain, he's senior to Graeme."
Godwin, however, stuck to his point.
"Send him a note, sir, telling him to act under _Major_ Graeme's ordersto-night. You can rectify the mistake to-morrow."
"Oh, damn it, Godwin, what for?"
"Because," burst in Hector, "Major Godwin knows that I can carry thisthing through. I'll have my lot in position, sir, at any hour you like,if I have to carry them there. I don't think you know me, sir," headded quietly, and Godwin, watching his face, suddenly realised thatthis statement was possibly correct.
Between the two, Colonel Bradford gave way.
"Very well," he said slowly, "I'll write the order, though I don't likedoing it. You give it, Godwin, or, better still, as he might askquestions, you take it yourself, Graeme, to Rufford. If you like to lieabout it you can, I won't, nor shall my staff officer."
"Here's the order," writing it out as he spoke and handing it to Hector."Now be off and make your arrangements. You must be in positionoverlooking that valley before dawn. Understand?"
"Perfectly, sir," answered Graeme, and hurried away through the darknessto where the Colonial troops were lying. Here he found Rufford, and tohim handed the order.
"What's the game now?" said the latter, opening the envelope and readingits contents. "Oh, command my beggars, is it? All right, you'rewelcome to, if you can, though it's pretty hard cases you'll find 'em.Sit down, and tell us about it. Have a fill," handing him his pouch;"got no whiskey to offer you, only baccy, and that mostly dust."
"Call up your officers at once, please, Captain Rufford, and rout outthe men."
"Oho! coming the old soldier, are you? Can't be done, old chap; you'llhear something if you try it. They're all dossed down and asleep bynow."
"Rout 'em out, I say. Oh, damn it, man, don't sit gaping there, here,give me that lantern, now, where are they? The officers first, please,"and, followed by the grinning Rufford, Hector hurried away to where arow of blanket-covered figures were lying close by, and thereuponproceeded to rouse the slumberers, with an energy and flow of words,which speedily changed their feelings of wrath at the awakening intorespect and desire to be up and doing. This achieved, he flew down themen's line, cursing, exhorting, joking as he went, till all were astirand busy with bridle and saddle. Then, leaving them to their work, hehurried away to Headquarters, where his own horse was now waiting. Thishe mounted, galloped back, and, quickly marshalling his small force, wasaway, at their head, on his mission, a good half-hour before the othertwo columns had begun to turn out.
Through the black night he drove them on; now dismounting to lead upsome steep boulder-strewn hillock, now plunging down into the depths ata pace which made even the careless Colonials hold their breath.
"The devil's in the fellow," muttered Rufford, from his post in rear,whither he had been despatched to whip up stragglers. "Slack, casualbeggar I always thought him, and here he is hustling my crowd along asI'd never dare, well as I know 'em. Damme. They seem to like it too,rum thing. Wonder what he's after? Choked me off to rights when Iasked him, thought for a moment he meant braining me with that oldknobkerrie of his. Well, I don't care, let him run his own show; heseem to know all about it. Now then, close up, will you, what the hellare you hanging back for? Oh, 'halt,' is it? What'
s that? Pass it on,confound you--oh, 'officers.'" And thereupon Rufford hurried up to thefront, where he found Graeme surrounded by the rest of the officers.
"Keep back from me, will you," he was saying, "now then, listen,"whereupon, in quick sharp sentences, clear as daylight, though couchedin somewhat unmilitary phraseology, Hector proceeded to give out hisorders. "Now, be off," he concluded, and the group broke up and hurriedaway.
The tramp of feet followed soon after, and then, in single file, up camethe men, rifle at the trail; two columns of them, one on each side ofthe track. Arrived at where Hector was standing, the leading files ofeach column wheeled off to the right and left respectively, followed bythose in rear, till all were gone, swallowed up in the darkness. Nowand again the clatter of loose stones was heard, a stifled oath inanswer, and then these sounds, too, ceased, and all was still and silentas before.
For a few minutes Hector stood, his heart swelling with exultation atthe good work accomplished. In less than two hours he had brought hisforce eight miles through the heart of the mountains--and this on apitch-dark night--exactly to the spot desired.
They were not men of his own regiment either, but Colonials, who werenotoriously independent and difficult to manage, and yet without theslightest difficulty he had managed them. From the time when, in faceof their own commander's warnings, he had roused them from their beds,there had not only been no murmuring, but, on the contrary, a willingobedience and confidence in his leadership. And to-morrow, or ratherto-day, when the fighting began...
Suddenly realisation came to Hector, and from the heights he fellheadlong to the depths, the certainty of disappointment upon him. Foolthat he was to have forgotten; fighting, there would be no fighting;there was, there could be, no one in that valley below. No, thedarkness would lift, the emptiness be revealed, and all his labour wouldbe gone or nothing--worse still, unrecognised.
Hector did not fear the consequences to himself once the fraud wasdiscovered, for that was the gamble, and if he lost, he was prepared topay, but to know himself a leader of men, and for that knowledge to gounshared by all save him, that to Graeme was bitterer than death. Adreary laugh broke from his lips as the realisation of the giant hoax hehad played upon all, himself included, came home to him. He picturedBradford and the long-nosed Godwin struggling over the mountains; theircautious injunctions for silence in the ranks, the eager anticipation ofthe officers as they posted their men, and impressed upon them thenecessity of straight-shooting. God! how absurd it all was, howdamnably absurd.
Then, as hope never dies in human hearts, a thrill of excitement ranthrough him, as he became aware that the solid blackness was looseningand the hour of revelation close at hand. With heart wildly beating, hewatched the shapeless masses around him take form and become the tops ofmountains, blurred at first, and then sharply defined against a skyfading from violet to green. And suddenly it was light, and a stillgrey world stood revealed.
Straining his eyes downwards, he lay till the last patch of shadowclothing the valley below had melted away, when, with a sudden cry ofexultation, Graeme flung his helmet into the air, and rolled over andover on the grass, laughing hysterically at what he had seen. In thecentre of the valley, or, rather, horseshoe-shaped indentation in themountains, stood a rough farmhouse, with a cluster of large cattlekraals close by, and around the house and filling the kraals were darkmasses of horses. It was Van der Tann's commando beyond a doubt.
No sooner had one hope been realised, and anxiety relieved, than anotherequally insistent took its place--the fear of the escape of the quarrylying so unsuspectingly below. True, the main entrance, that on theside farthest away from him, and leading into the open veldt beyond,would be certainly held and barred by now; nor was flight possible upthe mountains on either side, for these rose sheer from the valley'slevel. No, it was not there that the danger lay, but at his end; forGraeme had made a mistake, and a bad one, the previous night. He wasnot standing at the edge of a precipice, as he had imagined, but on aneck or depression between two hilltops, whence the ground sloped gentlyto the farmhouse, forming a natural causeway at least two hundred yardsacross, and easily accessible to Boer ponies and horsemen, who, findingother exit barred, would assuredly turn about and make straight forwhere he stood. And to stop them, to block that two hundred yards, hehad but seventy-five men all told--a weak obstacle, truly, to the rushof desperate fugitives.
Thinking hard, he lay there, but no solution of the problem came, andthen through the still morning air a shot rang out from the far end ofthe valley, and at the sound the dark figures below awoke to instantlife. From the ground they sprang up, out of farmhouse and kraal theypoured, swarming in and among the crowd of horses some few feveredminutes, and then, mounting, streamed off at a gallop, heading for theentrance to the open veldt.
Immediately the roar of musketry arose in greeting, and from the rockson either side a sleet of lead beat in their faces, but for a momentthey held on, till, recognising the impossible, they rushed headlongback the way they had come, straight to where Graeme, with hisseventy-five men, was lying.
"Bang!" went a rifle close beside him, and at the sound seventy-fourothers also began to speak, disjointedly; and then were suddenly silent,for their leader was up and running down the line, shouting for the fireto cease and the men to rise and fix bayonets.
"The fellow's mad," muttered Rufford, "never mind, I'll follow you, oldchap, and, God! see, the men, after him like hounds," and Rufford sprangup and ran, wildly shouting, after Hector, who was bounding over thestones, swinging his knobkerrie as he went.
Onward rushed the opposing forces, the one a galloping mass of horsemena thousand strong, the other a weak ragged line of khaki and steel. Andwell ahead of the advancing commando a man on a white horse led the way,a big, bearded man, white-faced and shifty-eyed; and on those shiftyeyes Hector's own were fixed unwaveringly, his pace increasing as thedistance between them lessened. Either he or the Dutchman must give in amoment, he knew, and the giving of the one meant the giving of hisfollowers. They were nothing: it was between the leaders the issue lay.
Not twenty-five yards divided them, and still the big man camethundering on, his followers and Hector's checking themselvesinvoluntarily to watch--and then suddenly the end came. The whitehorse, obeying his rider's mind, and not the merciless lash, swerved,reared and then began to rein back. Up went the big man's hands, "Isurrender," he said, his shifty eyes roving from side to side. "Isurr----" And then with a choked scream he fell forward, his face ared, featureless mask from the smash of the knobkerrie; a second timethe club rose and fell, a dull crushing sound was heard, and CorneliusVan der Tann rolled sideways from his horse and fell on the ground dead.
"On, men, on," shouted Hector, "now's the time to drive it home," and herushed on, waving the bloody knobkerrie as he went, "Ah!" and a shout ofexultation burst from his lips, for again the horsemen had turned, andwere galloping back to the farmhouse and kraals, where they lay for awhile undisturbed.
Only for a time, for, on the mountain overlooking them, figures soonbegan to appear, cautiously picking their way among the rocks. A burstof firing from the buildings below greeted them, whereupon, crouchinglow, they came forward at a run, dodging from stone to stone, and thensuddenly sank to earth and were gone. A moment's pause followed, andthen came the sharp sound of shots directed straight down into thecrowded kraals. It swelled to a roar, was answered by a burst ofscreams, and then up went the white flag. Bugles rang the "Cease fire,"and silence once more.
From the far end of the valley a knot of horsemen came galloping, a redtriangular flag waving in their midst. At the sight the mountain slopesaround awoke to life, and brown figures started up from the ground,their white faces glaring in the morning sunlight. A ripple of movementwent through their ranks, helmets flew off, and were raised aloft onrifle-barrels; a murmur arose, which swelled and grew until it mergedinto a roar of triumphant cheering.
* *
* * *
"I have sent for you, gentlemen," said Colonel Bradford, addressing theassembled officers some two hours later, "to thank you all for the loyalsupport and assistance you have given me this morning. There is onething, however, I should like to say, there is one great lesson I hopeall of you have learnt in the campaign, which has just been sosuccessfully brought to a conclusion, and that, gentlemen, is thenecessity of never yielding to despondency. I am aware--I must say it,though I regret to--that amongst both officers and men there has been oflate a certain tone of discouragement. That, gentlemen, was wrong andunsoldierlike, where, I ask you, should we be now had I too showed thosefeelings? Back home, gentlemen, back home, in disgraceful retreat.
"No, gentlemen, a soldier's motto must always be _Nil desperandum_, for,as you know, 'the blackest hour is always that preceding the dawn.'" Hepaused, puffing out his chest. "That is all, I think," he added,"except to ask you to convey my thanks to your respective commands,though, of course, I shall publish an order on the subject. And now,Godwin," turning to that officer, "for breakfast. Graeme, where thedeuce has that fellow got to? What, breakfast not here? Oh, damn it,man. Ah, I forgot though, you were guiding Rufford's column, anddevilish well you did it too. By the way, that was a nasty rush youstopped, killed Van der Tann too, I hear, how did you do it? I couldn'tsee clearly from where I was."
"Went for them with the bayonet, sir; didn't wait for them to come tous, but attacked. They couldn't stick it, and went."
Bradford whistled, his face grown suddenly disapproving.
"Gad, but that was a risky thing to do, Graeme, why, you had but ahundred men."
"Seventy-five, sir, to be exact."
"And you charged them with that. You're a very lucky officer, Graeme,that's all I can say. Still, it turned out all right, though I'm hangedif I can understand how. And now for breakfast, we'll draw the Rutlands,I think, Godwin," and Bradford, humming a tune, walked gaily away.
"And that's just one of those things you never will understand,"muttered Hector, looking after him. "They don't teach that at the StaffCollege. Oh, Godwin, I didn't see you. Do you want me?"
"I do, rather," answered the long-nosed man, and then was silent,staring at Hector until he grew restive.
"What is it?" he asked sullenly.
"I should like to say, Graeme," replied Godwin, still staring, "that Iconsider you one of the pluckiest officers I've ever met."
"You--you mean that charge, sir?" said Hector, his face lighting up.
"I don't mean anything of the kind," was the unexpected answer. "I amalluding to the information you brought in last night, and on whichwe--providentially acted."
"I don't understand you, sir."
"Oh yes, you do, and so did I all the time, and that's what I mean whenI say you're the pluckiest man I've ever met. And on that pluck Icongratulate you, Graeme, only, if I were you, I shouldn't try it again,it mightn't come off a second time, you see. About that charge ofyours, though, that's a different matter, and, speaking unofficially, ofcourse, I say do _that_ again; by _that_ I mean attack whenever andwherever you can." He stopped, looked at Graeme, and burst outlaughing. Then suddenly holding out his hand, wrung Hector's in itsclammy grasp, and hurried away, leaving the other staring after him.