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A Dash from Diamond City, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 13. After A Lapse |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTEEN. AFTER A LAPSE Oliver West was sleeping soundly that night from sheer fatigue; but all the same his slumber was not pleasant, for though his body was resting his brain was hard at work. Before an hour had passed he was conscious of being cold, and in a dreamy way he felt that he ought to do what under the circumstances was impossible: that is to say, put more clothes over him, or, failing them, as he had no more, roll himself over and over in the blanket that he had brought strapped to his saddle-bow and only thrown over him when he lay down to sleep. But his body was so steeped in sleep that he did not stir, and suffered from the freezing air of the night--so tremendous a change from the torrid heat of mid-day out on the veldt. Later on, about midnight, the impression came upon him that he could hear a lion far away, seeming to make the earth quiver beneath him by giving forth in the fierce beast's strangely ventriloquial way its awe-inspiring roar, so puzzling to the listener as to whether it is far off or near. And even in his dreamy state West found himself doubting that it could be a lion's roar that he heard so near to where civilisation had driven off most of the savage beasts of the plain. But the roar came again, nearer, and in his dreams he felt sure that he was right, and he recalled, still sleeping, the fact that now and then the king of beasts followed one or other of the straggling herds of antelopes quite close to the Boers' farms. Then the curious barking roar ceased, and with it consciousness for some time. All at once he found himself wide awake, lying upon his back, and gazing straight up through the transparent darkness at the stars. He lay for some moments wondering what had awakened him, perfectly still, and listening intently for steps or the trampling of horses, feeling sure that the Boers were close at hand. Instinctively his hand was reached out to grasp the rifle, which he had laid by his side and covered from the dew or hoar frost, whichever might come, by throwing over it part of his blanket. As he touched it the cold perspiration began to start from every pore, for there was a whiff of hot breath upon his face, and he could dimly see that some large animal was stretching down its muzzle towards him, and for a few brief moments he lay as if paralysed, expecting to feel himself seized and dragged away, for now came back with keen clearness the recollection of having heard the distant roaring of a lion. He had hardly grasped this when once more, from somewhere near, the lion's terrifying cry arose, evidently, as he thought in a flash, one of the companions of the huge beast at his side. In an instant now he had grasped the truth, for as the distant lion roared there came from his right the peculiar stumbling movement of one of the hobbled horses striving to get closer to where there would be human companionship, if not protection. "Poor beast!" thought West, as his fascinated eyes stared at the dim shape above him, so close that it shut out from him the light of the stars. Then the half-paralysed listener saw clearly, for the beast raised its head and uttered a low whinnying cry, which was answered from the direction where the other hobbled pony was moving. "Woho, my boy!" whispered West, with the blood now tingling through his veins, and as the pony whinnied softly again West raised himself up with his rifle in his right hand and stretched out his left for it to come in contact with the soft warm muzzle of his pony, which pressed against it, the poor brute uttering a low sigh. Quite a minute then passed, the two ponies remaining motionless, and West listening with every nerve on the strain, knowing as he did that a lion must be in very close proximity, and fully expecting every moment that there might be a tremendous bound and the savage brute would alight either upon him or upon one of the poor shivering beasts. Then, from evidently pretty close at hand, there was a low muttering growl, the barrel of West's rifle fell into his left hand as he held the weapon pistol-wise and fired low down in the direction of the sounds. At the flash and in company with the report there was a yelping snarl and a couple of angry roars in quick succession. West fired again as nearly as he could judge where the beast would be, and the next moment Ingleborough was kneeling by his side. "What is it--lions?" he panted. "Yes," whispered West, whose fingers were busy re-loading, and he listened for the next sound, but only to hear a deep sighing breath on either side, telling that the horses had been too much terrified to start away, or else felt that they would be safer with their masters, and that to try to gallop off meant the springing of a savage enemy upon their backs. The silence continued for nearly a minute, and then there was a vicious snarling, apparently some fifty yards away, while without a moment's hesitation Ingleborough raised his rifle to his shoulder and fired as nearly as he could judge at the spot from whence the noise came. He fired twice, the shots being so close together as almost to be like one for a while. Then after a perceptible interval they were echoed from the walls of a distant kopje, and again from another, before they died away. "That has startled the lions," said Ingleborough; "but I'm afraid it will startle the Boers and bring them to see what's the matter." "Yes, the lions are gone," said West. "Hark at that! Who says horses have no sense?" For the _crop, crop, crop_ of the browsing animals had begun again from close at hand, and the comrades stood listening for some little time while the otherwise unbroken stillness once more reigned. "What's to be done?" said West. "Shall we make a start at once, or wait for daylight?" "I was thinking," replied Ingleborough. "If we start now we have the advantage of the darkness to hide us, but the disadvantage too, for we may go blundering right into the midst of some commando. I don't think the firing could do us any harm, after all, for the enemy would not be able to tell where the sounds came from. I think we had better stay where we are and wait for morning." "I think so too," said West, with a sigh of relief; "but one of us ought to watch in case the lions come back." "They will not come back!" said Ingleborough decisively. "From what I know of their habits they'll have been too much scared to risk their lives again. You hit one of them; there's no doubt about that." "You think there was more than one?" "I should say it was a family party of an old lioness and two or three half-grown cubs." "Then we may lie down and sleep again?" "Yes; we must trust to our luck, Noll; there's a good deal of chance in these affairs." West hesitated for a few minutes, and then followed his companion's example, lying awake for some time thinking of what a strange change this was from his quiet life in the offices of the company; and then, as he began to ponder over what might be to come, the subject grew too difficult for him and he fell fast asleep. But he was the first to awaken in the grey dawn, to find that the horses were close at hand, browsing away contentedly enough, and ready to neigh softly and submit to his caress when he walked up to them; while, as soon as he had satisfied himself that they had not suffered in any way, he walked in the direction in which he had fired during the night, to find footprints in several directions, and in one place the dust among some stones torn up and scattered, as if one of the brutes had fallen on its side and scratched up the earth. Plainer still in the way of proof of what had happened, there were spots and smudges of blood, giving thorough evidence that one of the lions had been wounded by the chance shot, and had fallen, and struggled fiercely to regain its feet. He had just arrived at this conclusion when Ingleborough found him. "Hallo!" cried his companion; "that was a good blind shot, Noll. Well done, lad! A full-grown lion too! Look at its pads. It must have had a nasty flesh-wound to have bled like this." "Do you think it'll be lying anywhere near, half-dead, or quite?" "No! A cat has nine lives, they say; and really this kind of beast is very, hard to kill. Look, there are the pugs, along with those of three more, all half-grown, going right away yonder into the open veldt. We might hunt 'em down, but we don't want to, eh?" "Absurd! We want to get on at once. Can you see any pug, as you call it, of Boers?" "No. I've had a good look round, and as soon as we've had a mouthful we'll be off. I say, it's wonderful, isn't it, how one can sleep out here on the veldt?" "Surrounded by dangers!" replied West. Then laconically: "Yes." Their scanty meal was soon eaten and washed down with a draught of pure water, after which they both climbed to the top of the highest part of the kopje to take a good survey of the surrounding plain. "There's nothing in sight," said Ingleborough quietly; "so we'll hurry on at once while our shoes are good." The ponies looked as fresh as ever when they were saddled and ready to start, and after an examination of the compass Ingleborough pointed out that they ought to keep along north-east to strike the Vaal somewhere that evening, and then go along its southern bank till a ford was reached, after which their journey would be north by west. "But we must be on the look-out for some lonely farm to-day," said West. "We ought to well fill our haversacks before we start again." "Never fear; we shall find plenty of food for sale so long as we have money to show the Boer ladies. Ready?" "Yes," replied West, and together they sprang into their saddles and rode down the slope, their horses carefully picking their way among the stones, till the open veldt was reached. They then struck off at a quiet canter towards a rocky ridge so as to put that between them and the kopje where they had slept, in case by any possibility their shots had been heard and a party of the enemy should ride up to it to make a search and in the course of it see them in the distance riding away. "And that would mean pursuit, a race, and the fastest horses to win," said West. "As they generally do when there is fair play," replied Ingleborough quietly. "Keep a sharp look-out forward, and I'll keep on casting an eye back at the kopje." The ridge was only about a couple of miles distant from their previous night's resting-place, proving to be fairly high, but with a gradual slope: while just as they reached the spot where the ascent began Ingleborough turned in his saddle from a long look-out backwards. "This is like wringing one's own neck," he cried. "Now then, let's canter up this bit, and as soon as we have topped it we need not be so cautious. Ready?" "Yes," cried West. "Then off! Steady! No galloping; a gentle canter." It was fortunate for the pair that they did not breathe their horses, but rode up the gentle slope at a regular lady's canter, to find the ridge pleasantly fringed with a patch of open woodland, through which their steeds easily picked their way, and on to the farther slope, which was more dotted with forest growth; but there was nothing to hinder their rate of speed--in fact, the horses began to increase the pace as a broad grassy stretch opened before them. The moment they passed out of the woodland on to the open space West uttered a word of warning and pressed his pony's side, for the first glance showed him that they had come right upon a Boer laager which was in the course of being broken up. Oxen were being in-spanned, men were tightening the girths of their ponies, and preparations were in progress everywhere for an advance in some direction. _ |
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