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The Kopje Garrison: A Story of the Boer War, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 9. Guy Fawkes Work |
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_ CHAPTER NINE. GUY FAWKES WORK The light of the fired train had hardly flashed before the first sentry who saw it, fired, to be followed by one after another, till the bugles rang out, first one and then another, whose notes were still ringing when there was a muffled roar, then another, and another, till six had shaken the earth and a series of peculiar metallic clashes deafened all around. But before the first sentry had raised his piece to his shoulder and drawn, the sergeant, seen in the brilliant light of the running train, seemed to have gone frantically mad. "Chuck, sir, chuck!" he yelled, though Lennox needed no telling. The light which suddenly shone on the back of the cluster of sheet-iron huts had shown him what was necessary, and after raising the bag he had picked up with both hands high above his head, and hurling it as far as he could, he dashed at the others he could see packed close up against the colonel's hut, so that between him and the sergeant five had been torn from the ground and hurled in different directions outward from the buildings, leaving only the contents of a sixth and seventh bag which had been emptied in a heap connected with the long train before the others had been laid upon it in a little pile. They were none too soon, for the last bag had hardly been hurled away with all the strength that the young officer could command, and while the sergeant was yelling to him to run, before the hissing fiery serpent was close upon them. Fortunately the sergeant's crawling and the following trampling of the excited pair had broken up and crushed in the regularly laid train, scattering the powder in all directions, so that the rush of the hissing fire came momentarily to an end and gave place to a sputtering and sparkling here and there, giving Lennox and the sergeant time to rush a few yards away in headlong flight. There was a terrific scorching blast, and a tremendous push sent them staggering onward in a series of bounds before they fell headlong upon their faces; while at intervals explosion after explosion followed the fiery blast, the burning fragments setting off three of the other bags, fortunately away from where the pair had fallen. The sergeant was the first to recover himself, and raising his face a little from the ground, he shouted, "Don't move, sir! Don't move! There's two or three more to go off yet." Lennox said something, he did not know what, for he was half-stunned, the shock having had a peculiar bewildering effect. But at the second warning from his companion he began to grasp what it meant, and lay still without speaking; but he raised his head a little, to see that beneath the great canopy of foul-smelling smoke that overhung them the earth was covered with little sputtering dots of fire, either of which, if it came in contact, was sufficient to explode any powder that might remain. But two bags had escaped, the explosive blast rising upward; and the danger being apparently at an end, the principal actors in the catastrophe roused to find officers hurrying to meet them, and men coming forward armed with pails of water to dash and scatter here and there till every spark was extinct and the remaining powder had been thoroughly drenched. "Much hurt, old chap?" cried Dickenson, who was the first to reach his friend, and he supplemented his question by eagerly feeling Lennox all over. "No! No: I think not," said Lennox, "except my head, and that feels hot and scorched. Can you see anything wrong?" "Not yet; it's so dark. Here, let's take you to the doctor." "No, no!" cried Lennox. "Not so bad as that. But tell me--what about the officers sleeping in those huts?" "All right, I believe; but the backs of the houses are blown in, and the fellows at home were blown right out of their beds." "No one hurt?" "Oh yes; some of them are a bit hurt, but only bruised. But you? Oh, hang it all! somebody bring a light. Hi, there, a lantern!" "No, no!" roared the colonel out of the darkness. "Are you mad? Who's that asking for a light?" "Mr Dickenson, sir." "Bah! Keep every light away. There may be another explosion." The colonel gave a few sharp orders respecting being on the alert for an expected attack to follow this attempt--one that he felt to have been arranged to throw the little camp into confusion; and with all lights out, and a wide berth given to the neighbourhood of the headquarters, the troops stood ready to receive the on-coming Boers with fixed bayonets. But an hour passed away, and the doubled outposts and those sent out to scout had nothing to report, while all remained dark and silent in the neighbourhood of the damaged huts. Meanwhile Dickenson had hurried Lennox and the sergeant off to the doctor's quarters, where they were examined by that gentleman and his aids. "Well, upon my word, you ought to congratulate yourself, Lennox." "I do, sir," was the reply, made calmly enough. "And you too, sergeant." "Yes, sir," said the man stolidly. "Why, my good fellow, you ought to have been blown all to pieces." "Ought I, sir?" "Of course you ought. It's a wonderful escape." "Oh, I don't know, sir. What about my back hair, sir?" "Singed off, what there was of it; and yours too, Lennox. Smart much?" "Oh yes, horribly," said the latter. "Oh, well, that will soon pass off. Threw yourselves down on your faces--eh?" "No. We were knocked down." "Good thing too," said the doctor. "Saved your eyes, and the hair about them. A wonderful escape, upon my word. Yes: you ought to have been blown to atoms.--Eh? What's that, sergeant?" "I say we should have been, sir, if we hadn't scattered the powder-bags." "Scattered the powder-bags?" said a voice from the door, and the colonel stepped into the circle of light spread by the doctor's lamp. "Tell me what you know about this explosion, Lennox. How came you to be there instead of visiting your posts?" Lennox briefly explained, and the colonel stood frowning. "I don't see all this very clearly," said the colonel. "Somebody stealing the corn, and you were tracing the thieves and came upon a train laid up to my quarters. There was a sentry there; what was he about?" "No, sir: no sentry there," said Lennox. "Nonsense! I gave orders for a man to be posted there, and it was done." "I beg pardon, sir," said Lennox. "No one was there to challenge us." "Indeed!" said the colonel.--"Who's that? Oh, Mr Dickenson, examine the place as soon as it is light. There was a man there, for I saw him myself. But now then, I cannot understand how the enemy can have stolen through the lines and carried the powder where it was found. What do you say, Lennox?" "Nothing, sir. My head is so confused that I can hardly recall how it all happened." "Of course. Well, you, sergeant. You said that you scattered the powder-bags." "Yes, sir. Threw 'em about as far as we could." "We?" "Yes, sir. Mr Lennox and me." "After the train was fired?" "Oh yes, sir; it was coming on at a great rate." "Humph! Then you did a very brave action." "Oh no, sir," said the sergeant. "We were obliged to. Why, we should, as Dr Emden says, sir, have been blown all to bits if we hadn't. We were obliged to do something sharp." "Yes," said the colonel dryly. "It was sharp work, sergeant, and you saved my life and the major's." "Did we, sir? Very glad of it, sir." "But about how the powder was conveyed there. I can see nothing for it but treachery within the camp.--Of course!--Those Boers!" "But they had gone, sir," said Lennox. "Yes, and left us a memento of their visit." "Beg pardon, sir," said Dickenson. "Yes? Go on, Mr Dickenson." "I think I can see through the mystery." "Then you have better eyes than I have," said the colonel. "Proceed." "It was one of their tricks, sir," said Dickenson. "They came into camp with their wagons and waited their chance." "But the powder, man, the powder?" said the colonel impatiently. "So many bags of it, sir, each inside one of the sacks of maize; and the night they were to go away they slit their sacks open, took out the powder, and planted it at the back of your quarters, sir." "That will do, Mr Dickenson," said the colonel dryly. "Beg pardon, sir. I thought it a very likely explanation of the business." "Too likely, Mr Dickenson," said the colonel, "for it is undoubtedly the right one. The misfortune is that the treacherous scoundrels have got away. Bah! They're worse than savages! Well, let us all be thankful for our escape. I thought I had taken every precaution I could, but one never knows. Then you will not have to go into hospital, Lennox?" "Oh no, sir; I shall be all right in a few hours." "And you, Colour-Sergeant James?" "Beg pardon, sir?" said the blackened non-com, staring. "I say, and you, _Colour-Sergeant_ James," said the colonel, laying emphasis on the word colour. "You feel that you need not go into the infirmary?" "Feel, sir?" cried the sergeant, drawing himself up as stiff as his rifle. "Beg pardon, sir, but that's quite cured me. I never felt so well in my life." "I am glad of it, my man," said the colonel quietly.--"Yes?" he added as one of the junior officers came to the door. "Two men come in from the kopje, sir: a message from the sergeant with the gun. There's a strong body of the enemy close up between us and the lines on the slope. The men had to go round a long way before they could get through." "I'll come," said the colonel, and he hurried out to make some fresh arrangements, the effect of which was that as soon as it was light the action of the Boers was precipitated by a counter-attack, and after an hour's firing they were driven out of their cover, to run streaming across the veldt, their flight hastened by a few well-planted shells from the big gun and the rapid fire of the Maxim which swept the plain. _ |
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