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Marcus: The Young Centurion, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 24. First Check |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. FIRST CHECK It was a glorious change from the terrible inactivity of waiting to energetic action, and the feeling was shared by all. Lupe leaped out of the chariot, the driver involuntarily shook the reins to urge the ponies forward forgetful of the fact that they were held on either side, and the beautiful little animals tried to plunge onward, but feeling the check upon their bits, snorted and began to rear while both Marcus and Serge had to make a struggle to control the desire within their breasts which urged them to break forward into a run. But the knowledge of the need of caution prevailed, and glancing to right and left in search of watching enemies, they had the satisfaction of seeing the chaos of rocks rising above their heads and quite concealing them, though on the other hand their progress became more painful, their way more burdened with stones. But it was glorious work to Marcus. These masses of rock were only difficulties in the way waiting to be mastered. It was quite refreshing to leave the leading of the horses to the driver and add their strength in pulling, pushing, and now and then seizing the spokes to hoist a wheel over some stony bar. Their progress was slow towards the far end of the amphitheatre, but every score of yards was something gained, and all worked eagerly till at last the lower end of the amphitheatre was reached, where the rocks closed in again and a small ravine was before them, whose bottom was the bed of a mountain torrent along which a shallow stream hurried, hardly above the soles of the adventurers' sandals, though the smooth rocks of the bed and sides showed plainly enough that there were times when a furious flood dashed along, laden with smaller stones and gravel, whose effects were to polish the bigger rocks in their way. "Better not talk," growled Serge, as they began to make quicker progress. "I don't suppose anyone is here; they'll all have gone to the front; but you never know, and every bad word is picked up by the rocks and sent flying far away till it drops plump into somebody's ear. Steady's the word, boy. Keep your little chap still. I don't suppose this bit of a streamlet keeps like this. I expect the narrow bed opens out soon, for the hills seem to grow smaller and smaller here, and I am hoping that we shall come upon level ground so that we may get a gallop to stretch the ponies' legs." "Ah, I hope so," cried Marcus, eagerly. "Now you are beginning to talk, Serge, like a man." "And that means, boy, that I was talking a bit ago like some old woman, I suppose. Well, part of a soldier's duty is to take care. Steady you, sir, and don't splash the water up like that," the old soldier continued softly to the pony whose head he held. "It's all very nice for you, and I dare say the water feels nice and pleasant to your hoofs; but keep quiet. You don't have to polish the rust off your armour--I do. I wish to goodness we could get on good dry ground." Like the rest of mountain torrents, the one whose bed they were following zig-zagged in all directions, so that even from their old point of vantage they had been able to see but a very little way along, and were quite content with the knowledge that the rocks rose up some fifteen or twenty feet above their heads, amply sufficient to shelter them from the sight of the enemy who lay away on either side, while now as they journeyed along the rocky bed, with the rattle of the wheels multiplied by the echoes, nothing was visible a hundred yards ahead, and as fast as one angle was turned there lay another a short distance in front. But they were descending towards the plains; the plashing stream as it hurried along taught them that, and at the end of about a quarter of a mile of little interrupted progress they were cheered on by the fact that the rocks on either side grew lower, rapidly ceasing to afford them protection, and before long hardly rising to their shoulders. There was another turn, and then another, and then Marcus cried eagerly: "The hills are seeming to get farther away, Serge, and we must soon be out in the plain. I wonder what's beyond that turning." "Open ground, I should say, my lad," said the old soldier, gravely; "but we must take care. We want the open ground for the horses, but not for ourselves." "I don't understand you," cried Marcus, sharply. "I spoke plainly enough, boy. I meant this: no shelter for us, don't you see, and if the enemy look back some of them may turn and come in pursuit." "Ah, of course," cried Marcus. "Well, if they do, and catch us, you will have to fight, Serge, and drive them back." "That's right, my boy, and I'll do my best: but if I do, and get the worst of it, you never mind but go right on." "Yes," said Marcus, drily, "when you are ready to come too." Serge grunted with satisfaction, and then, possibly from the solemnity of the desolate place along which they travelled, they tramped silently along over the rocky bed, their footsteps and those of the horses being the only sounds as they neared the sharp angle where the stream bed seemed to open out. Marcus said afterwards that Serge should have been more cautious, and Serge retorted that Marcus was captain and ought to have sent on a scout in front. But as it was, the scout who acted, sent on himself, and that scout was Lupe, who, attracted by the openness of the rocks in front, suddenly bounded forward with a cheery bark, sending the water flying, and exciting the ponies into starting forward at a canter. Almost involuntarily the holders of their reins let go and, acting as if on one impulse, caught at the sides of the chariot and sprang in, steadying themselves in their position as the heavy vehicle dashed on along the shallow bed, which was now wonderfully free of stones, while the driver participating in the dog's excitement, uttered a low cry and shook his reins, so that a minute later the chariot swung round the angle into where the ravine suddenly came to an end and a low level valley opened out. Right at the edge of the stream, and not far in front, a cluster of rough camp shelters seemed to spring up before them, and from out of the huts where they had been sheltering from the sun, a body of about two score spear-armed men suddenly appeared. _ |
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