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A Dash from Diamond City, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 28. A Loud Report |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. A LOUD REPORT Days of rest and nights of travel succeeded, during which the despatch-riders began to wonder at the ease with which they progressed. "I thought it would be twice as hard a task!" said West. "Here have we been two days without a sign of a Boer! We must be very near Mafeking now." "Yes, very," said Ingleborough drily; "nearer than I thought. Halt!" He drew rein as he spoke, West's pony stopping short at the same time as its companion. They had been riding steadily on through the night, and now as the ponies stood side by side they stretched out their necks in the soft cool darkness, and the sound of their cropping told that they were amongst grass. "Why did you pull up?" said West, in a cautious whisper. "For you to hear how near we are to Mafeking now." "Near?" "Yes; can't you hear the firing?" "No," said West, after a few moments' pause. "Yes, now I do," he cried eagerly, for all at once there was a dull concussion as if a blow had been delivered in the air. "A heavy gun," cried West excitedly. "Hist!" "I forgot," said West softly. "That must be one of the siege guns," he continued. "Yes," said Ingleborough, "and it must be near daybreak, with the bombarding beginning. Be careful; perhaps we are nearer the enemy than we thought." At the end of a couple of minutes there was the dull concussion of another heavy gun, and this was continued at intervals of ten or fifteen minutes during the next hour, while the adventurers advanced cautiously at a walk, keeping a sharp look-out through the transparent darkness for a patch of rocks or woodland which might serve for their next halt. But day had quite dawned before a suitable place of refuge presented itself, in the shape of one of the low kopjes. "Dismount!" whispered Ingleborough sharply, and they spent the next ten minutes carefully scanning the district round in full expectation of seeing some sign of the enemy. But nothing worse was in view than two or three of the scattered farms of the open veldt, and in the distance a dark indistinct patch which appeared to be a herd of grazing cattle, but so distant that neither could be sure. On their way to the patch of rock and brush that was to be their last resting-place before making a dash for the beleaguered town, they struck upon the trail going north and south, and in two places scared off vultures from the carcass of an unfortunate ox, shrunken and dried in the sun till little but the bones and hide were left. They were too distant to make out the smoke, but steadily increasing fire told plainly enough that they were quite near enough for a dash into the town when darkness set in that night. "You think then that this will be the best way?" said West, as they reached their shelter without seeing a sign of danger. "I am not sure yet!" replied Ingleborough. "In fact, I'm very doubtful whether we should not fail, for the place is certain to be surrounded by the enemy, and we should very likely be ridden or shot down." Oliver West laid his hand upon the despatch, pressing it so that the paper crackled beneath the cloth. "Then we had better ride in as near as we dare, and then try and creep in at the darkest time." "Let's pray for the clouds to be thick then!" said Ingleborough; "for the moon's getting past the first quarter. Last night would have done exactly." "But we were not here. Hark at the firing!" "Yes; it sounds as if Mafeking will be taken before we get there!" "For goodness' sake don't talk like that!" "Don't let's talk at all then. Let's get well into shelter. But I see no sign of water yet." Neither did the speaker after they had carefully explored the rocky hillock, but fortunately there was an ample supply of succulent grass for the ponies, which were soon after luxuriating in a good roll, before grazing contentedly away, while their riders, after another examination of the place and glance round from the highest point, had to satisfy themselves with a very scanty shelter and a much scantier meal. "Never mind," said Ingleborough; "we shall be breakfasting in luxury to-morrow morning, I hope, with our appetites sharpened by the knowledge that we have achieved our task." "I hope so!" said West gravely. "But don't doubt, my lad," cried Ingleborough cheerily. "Don't be downhearted now we are so near!" "I can't help it!" replied West. "I feel on thorns, and my state of anxiety will grow worse and worse till we get there. Hark at the firing!" "I can hear," said Ingleborough coolly. "Be very deaf if I couldn't! There, that's the last scrap of cake, so let's drown our troubles in sleep. You have first turn!" "No," replied West. "I feel too anxious to sleep! You begin." "Can't," was the reply. "If anything, I feel more anxious than you do. I couldn't rest!" "I wish we could canter gently on till we were seen by the Boers, and then go on full gallop right into the town!" said West. "Would it be too dangerous?" "Just madness!" replied Ingleborough. "No; it must be done with guile. They would cut us off for certain." "I'm afraid so!" said West. "Very well, then, we must wait for the evening." "And sit wakeful," said Ingleborough. "Yes," said West. "Sleep is impossible!" And sit there wakeful they did, hour after hour, their only satisfaction being that of seeing their weary horses enjoying a good feed untroubled by the increasing heat, or the cares which harassed their masters. For as the sun rose higher the distant firing increased, till it was evident that a terrible attack was going on, and in his weariness and despair no words on the part of Ingleborough had any effect upon West, who felt convinced that before they could continue their journey Mafeking would have fallen into the enemy's hands. There was no further talk of sleep. The heat, flies, hunger, and a burning thirst were either of them sufficient to have kept them awake, without the terrible feeling of anxiety and the alarms caused by bodies of horsemen or lines of wagons journeying in the direction they were waiting to take. Again and again parties of the Boers seemed to be coming straight for the hiding-place, and West and his companion crept on hands and knees towards their ponies, getting hold of their reins, and then crouching by them ready to mount and gallop for their lives should the necessity arise. But it did not, and in a strangely-feverish dreamlike way the day glided on and evening at last came, bringing with it wafts of cooler air and, what was of more consequence to them still, a feeling of hope, for though the firing still went on, it had dwindled down into the slow steady reports of one heavy piece discharged at about the same rate as when they had first heard the firing in the morning. "And it tells its own tale with truthful lips!" said Ingleborough. "The town is still holding out, and the defenders have ceased to reply." "Because they are nearly beaten!" said West sadly. "By no means, you croaking old raven!" cried Ingleborough cheerily. "It's because they want to save their ammunition! They only want to fire when they have something worth firing at. As for the enemy, they have the whole town to shoot at, and keep on pitching their shells in at random. There, don't be grumpy!" "I can't help it!" cried West passionately. "Give me credit for having kept up well till now. It's because we are so near success that I feel everything so keenly." "I know, old fellow, and you may trust me!" said Ingleborough. "I didn't play a false prophet's part just to encourage you. I'm speaking the simple truth! Just a little more patience, and you shall deliver your despatch." "If I could only feel that!" cried West. "It may be the saving of Mafeking to receive news perhaps of help being on the way." "Be patient then! It will soon be night, and then we'll mount and make our final dash!" "No," said West bitterly; "we shall have to make it now. Look." _ |
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