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The Kopje Garrison: A Story of the Boer War, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 12. The Boer Advance |
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_ CHAPTER TWELVE. THE BOER ADVANCE The scouting parties went out in three different directions after a long survey from the top of the kopje, the routes being marked out for the leaders in consultation with the colonel, who, glass in hand, selected the most likely routes to be followed so that the enemy might be avoided, and the more distant country reached where two or three Boer farms were known to be situated. Then, with three of the best mounted men in each, they set off; and the colonel took especial care that no one of the many friendly--said to be friendly--natives who hung about the camp should follow. It was a necessary precaution, for the outposts stopped no less than a dozen men stealing through the long grass on both sides of the river, and, to their great disappointment, turned them back to go and squat down sulkily in such shade as they could find. The instructions given were that at the latest the scouts were to be back at sundown, so as to give ample time for pointing out the route to be followed and preparations made for the raid to come. Plenty of discussion ensued when the scouts had ridden off at a walk, opening out so as not to take the attention of the Boers; and as far as could be made out by the watchers there was not a sign of an enemy upon either of the hills. The question of the discussion was which company of the regiment would be called upon to start upon the raid, the members of each hoping to be selected; and Captain Roby maintaining loudly, in a sharp, snappish way, that without doubt his company would be chosen, and turning fiercely upon any of his brother officers who differed from him. "He's precious cock-sure, Drew," said Dickenson later on, as they strolled together up the steep sides of the kopje; "but we had our bit of work this morning, and it is not likely that the old man will send us." "Of course not; but it was of no use to say anything. Our failure has had a strange effect upon the poor fellow, and a word would act upon him like fire upon tinder." "Yes; but the starvation picnic has had its effect on other people too. Who's he that he should have the monopoly of getting into a passion about nothing? I say, though, as we were up there this morning I don't see what is the use of our going up again; there'll be no shade at the top, and we shall be half-roasted." "Don't come, then," said Lennox quietly. "I'm going up to see if I can follow the scouts with a glass." "Don't come?" cried Dickenson sharply. "Well, I like that! Here's another one touched by the sun. Old Roby is not to have the monopoly of getting into a fantigue." "Nonsense! I'm not out of temper," said Lennox. "Not out of temper? Well, upon my word! But I shall come all the same. I would now if it were ten times as hot." "Very well," said Lennox, drawing his breath hard so as to command his temper, for he felt really ruffled now by the heat and his comrade's way of talking. They climbed slowly on, step for step, till, as they zigzagged up into a good position which displayed the sun-bathed landscape shimmering in the heat, Lennox caught a glimpse of one of the scouting parties in the distance, and was about to draw his companion's attention to it when Dickenson suddenly caught at his arm and pointed to a glowing patch of the rock in the full blaze of the sun. "Look," he said. "Big snake." "Nonsense!" said Lennox angrily; "there are no snakes up here." Their eyes met the next instant with so meaning a look in them that both burst out laughing, Dickenson holding out his hand, which was taken at once. "I forgive old Roby," he said. "So do I," said Lennox frankly. "Heat and hunger do upset a man's temper. See our fellows out there?" He pointed in the direction where he had seen the mounted figures, feeling for his glass the while. "Not our men," said Dickenson, following his example, and together they produced their glasses. "Oh yes," said Lennox. "I am certain it was they." "And I'm as certain it was not," cried Dickenson. Their eyes met again; but this time they felt too serious to laugh, and were silent for some moments. Dickenson then said frankly: "Look here, old chap, there's something wrong with us. We've got the new complaint--the Robitis; and we'd better not argue about anything, or we shall have a fight. My temper feels as if it had got all the skin off." "And I'm as irritable as Roby was this morning. Never mind. Can you make out the mounted men now?" "No," said Dickenson after a pause. "Can you?" "No. They're gone behind that patch of forest. There," he continued, closing his glass, "let's get up to the top and sit in the men's shelter; there'll be a bit of air up there." He proved to be right, for a pleasant breeze, comparatively cool, was blowing on the other side of the mountain and tempering the glare of the sunshine, while they found that there was a bit of shade behind a turret-like projection standing out of the granite, looking as if it had been built up by human hands. There they sat and watched for hours, scanning the veldt, which literally quivered in the heat; but they looked in vain for any movement on the part of the enemy, who had been disturbed by the scouts, and at last made up their minds to go down--truth to tell, moved by the same reason, the pangs of hunger asserting themselves in a way almost too painful to be borne. "Let's go," said Dickenson; "they've got right away in safety. I believe the Boers are all asleep this hot day, and in the right of it: plenty to eat and nothing to do." "Yes, let's go. I'm longing for a long cool drink down below there. Pst! What's that?" "One of the fellows round there by the gun," said Dickenson. "No," whispered Lennox decidedly; "it was close at hand. Did you hear it?" "Yes. Sounded like the rock splitting in this fiery sunshine." "More like a piece falling somewhere inside--beneath our feet--and I distinctly heard a soft, echoing rumble." "Come along down, old man," said Dickenson. "It's too hot to be up here, and if we stop any longer we shall have something worse than being hungry--a bad touch of the sun. I feel quite ready to go off my head and imagine all sorts of things. For instance, there's a swimming before my eyes which makes me fancy I can see puffs of smoke rising out yonder, and a singing and cracking in my ears like distant firing." "Where?" cried Lennox excitedly. "Yes, of course. I can see the puffs plainly, and hear the faint cracking of the fire. Bob, my lad, then that sharp sound we heard must have been the reverberation of a gun." "Oh dear!" groaned Dickenson. "Come along down, and let's get our heads in the cool stream and drink like fishes." "Don't be foolish! Get out your glass." "To drink with?" "No! Absurd! To watch the firing." "There is no firing, man," cried Dickenson. "There is, I tell you." "Oh, he has got it too," groaned Dickenson. "Very well; all right-- there is fighting going on out there a couple of miles away, and I can see the smoke and hear the cracking of the rifles. But come on down and let's have a drink of water all the same; there's plenty of that." "You're saying that to humour me," said Lennox, with his glass to his eyes; "but I'm not half-delirious from sunstroke. Get out your glass and look. The Boers are coming on in a long extended line, and they must be driving in our scouts." "You don't mean it, do you, old chap?" cried Dickenson, dragging out his glass. "Yes; there's no mistake about it." _Crack_! went a rifle from behind the projection, a few yards away; and directly after, as the two officers began scurrying down, the bugles were ringing out in the market-square, and the colonel gave his orders for supports to go out, check the Boer advance, and bring the scouting party or parties in. _ |
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