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The Kopje Garrison: A Story of the Boer War, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 19. Not Dead Yet |
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_ CHAPTER NINETEEN. NOT DEAD YET The entrance at last, with the glorious light of the sun shining in, man after man drawing a heavy sighing breath of relief; and as they gathered outside on the shelf where the sentries were awaiting their coming, it seemed to every one there that for a few moments the world had never looked so bright and beautiful. Then down came the mental cloud of thought upon all, and they formed up solemnly, ready to march down. "Well, Corporal May," said the captain, "do you think you can walk?" "Yes, sir," replied the man. "My head's thick and confused-like, but every mouthful of this air I swallow seems to be pulling me round. I can walk, sir, but I may have to fall out and come slowly." "Yes, yes, of course," said the captain, with whom the corporal had always been a petted favourite. "Don't hurry, my lad.--Sergeant, you and another man fall out too, if it is more than he can manage." Then turning to the rest of the party, the captain glanced along the rank at the saddened faces which showed how great a favourite the young lieutenant had been, and something like a feeling of jealousy flashed through him as he began to think how it would have been if he had been the missing man. But the ungenerous thought died out as quickly as it had arisen, and he marched on with the men slowly, so as to make it easier for the corporal, till half the slope of the kopje had been zigzagged down, when he called a halt. "Sit or lie about in the sunshine for ten minutes, my lads," he said, and the men gladly obeyed, dropping on the hot stones and tufts of brush, to begin talking together in a low voice, as they let their eyes wander over the prospect around, now looking, by contrast with the black horror through which they had passed, as if no more beautiful scene had ever met their eyes. "How are you, Dickenson?" said the captain after they had sat together for a few minutes, drinking in the sunlight and air. The young lieutenant started and looked at him strangely for a few moments before he spoke with a curious catch in his voice. "Is it all true?" he said. The captain's lips parted, but no words came; he only bowed his head slowly, and once more there was silence, till it was broken by Dickenson. "Poor old Drew!" he said softly. "Well, I hope when my time comes I shall die in the same way." "What!" cried the captain, with a look of horror which brought a grim smile to the subaltern's quivering lip. "I did not mean that," he said sadly; "by a bullet, I hope, but doing what poor old Drew was doing--saving another man's life." He turned his head on one side, reached out his hand, and picked from the sun-dried growth close at hand a little dull-red, star-like flower whose petals were hard and horny, one of the so-called everlasting tribe, and taking off his helmet, carefully tucked it in the lining. "Off the kopje in which he died," said Dickenson, in reply to an inquiring look directed at him by the captain. "For his people at home if I live to get back. They'll like to have it." Captain Roby said nothing aloud, but he thought, and his thoughts were something to this effect: "Who'd ever have thought it of this light-hearted, chaffing, joking fellow? Why, if they had been brothers he couldn't have taken it more to heart. Ha! I never liked the poor lad, and I don't think he liked me. There were times when I believe I hated him for--for--for--Well, why did I dislike him? Because other people liked him better than they did me, I suppose. Ah, well! like or not like, it's all over now." He sat thinking for a few minutes longer, watching Dickenson furtively as he now kept turning himself a little this way and that way and changed his seat twice for a fresh piece of hot stone. Suddenly at his last change he caught the captain's eye, and said quite cheerfully: "Getting a bit drier now." Then, seeing a surprised look in his brother officer's countenance, he said quietly, "I'm a soldier, sir, and we've no time for thinking if there's another comrade gone out of our ranks." "No," said Roby laconically, and he hold out his hand, in which Dickenson slowly laid his own, looking rather wistfully as he felt it pressed warmly. "I--I hope we shall be better friends in the future, Dickenson," said the captain rather awkwardly. "I hope so too, sir," replied Dickenson, but there was more sadness than warmth in his tones as his hand was released. "Yes; soldiers have no time for being otherwise.--There!" The captain sprang up, and Dickenson stiffly followed his example. "Fall in, my lads.--Well, corporal, how are you now?" "Head's horrid bad, sir; but this bit of a rest has pulled me together. I should like to fall out when we get near the way down to the spring." "Of course, my lad, of course.--Here, any one else like a drink?" "Yes, sir," came in chorus from the rank. "All of us, please, sir," added the sergeant. "Very well, then; we'll fall out again for a few minutes when get down. 'Tention! Right face--march!" The men went on, all the better for their rest, while the captain joined Dickenson in the rear, and marched step by step with him for some minutes in silence. "What confoundedly bad walking it is down here!" he said at last. "Shakes a man all to pieces." "I hadn't noticed it," said Dickenson, with something like a sigh. "I say!" Dickenson turned to look in the captain's face. "Come straight to the chief with me, Dickenson. I don't like my job of telling him. He'll say I oughtn't to have let the poor fellow go down." "I don't think he will," replied Dickenson, after a few moments' silence. "The old man's as hard as stone over a bit of want of discipline; but he's always just." "Think so?" said the captain. "Yes. Always just. I'll come with you, though I feel as weak as water now. But I shall be better still when we get down to the quarters; and it has got to be done." No more was said till the bottom of the kopje was nearly reached, and at a word from the sergeant the men went off left incline down and down and in and out among the loose blocks of weathered and lichen-covered stone which had fallen from the precipices above, while, as glimpses kept appearing of the flashing, dancing water, the men began to increase their pace, till the two foremost leaped down from rock to rock, and one who had outpaced his comrade bounded down out of sight into the deep gully along which the limpid water ran. "Oh!" exclaimed Dickenson, suddenly stopping short with his face distorted by a look of agony. "What's the matter?" cried the captain anxiously. "Taken bad?" "No, no. The men!" said the young officer huskily. "The water--the men are going to drink. That place in the cavern--it is, of course, where Groenfontein rises." "Yes, of course," replied the captain; "but it is too late now." He had hardly uttered the words before there was a yell of horror which made him stop short, for the foremost man came clambering back into sight, gesticulating, and they could see that he looked white and scared. "Oh!" cried the captain. "It will be _sauve qui peut_! The Boers have surprised us, and the lads have nothing but their side-arms. Got your revolver? I've mine. Let's do the best we can. Cover, my lads, cover." "No, no, no!" cried Dickenson in a choking voice. "I can't help it, Roby. I feel broken down. He has found poor Drew below there, washed out by the stream!" "Come on," cried the captain, and in another few moments they were with the men, who were closing round their startled comrade. "Couldn't help it," the poor fellow panted as his officers came within hearing. "I came upon him so sudden; I thought it was a ghost." "Hold your tongue, fool!" growled the sergeant. "Fall in! Show some respect for your poor dead officer.--Beg pardon, gentlemen. They've found the lieutenant's body, and--thank Heaven we can--we can--_Ur-r-r_!" he ended, with a growl and a tug at the top button of his khaki jacket. The men shuffled into their places and stood fast, imitating the action of their officers, who gravely doffed their helmets and stepped down into the hollow, where, upon a patch of green growth a few feet above the rippling water foaming and swirling in miniature cascades among the rocks, poor Lennox lay stretched out upon his back in the full sunshine, which had dried up the blood from a long cut upon his forehead, where it had trickled down one side of his face. He looked pale and ghastly, and there was a discoloration about his mouth and on one cheek where he seemed to have been battered by striking against the stones amongst which he had been driven in his rush through the horrible subterranean channel of the stream; but otherwise he looked as peaceful as if he were asleep. The captain stopped short, gazing at him, while Dickenson dropped lightly down till he was beside his comrade, and sank gently upon one knee, to bend lower, take hold of the right hand that lay across his chest, and then--"like a girl!" as he afterwards said--he unconsciously let fall two great scalding tears upon his comrade's cheek. The effect was magical. Lennox's eyes opened wildly, to stare blankly in the lieutenant's face, and the latter sprang to his feet, flinging his helmet high over his head as he turned to the line of waiting men above him and roared out hoarsely: "Hurrah! Cheer, boys, cheer!" The shout that rang out was deafening for so small a detachment, and two more followed, louder still; while the next minute discipline was forgotten and the men came bounding down to group about the figure staring at them wildly as if not yet fully comprehending what it all meant, till the lookers-on began shaking hands with one another in their wild delight. Then Dickenson saw the light of recognition dawn in his comrade's face, a faint smile appear about his mouth and the corners of his eyes, which gradually closed again; but his lips parted, and as Dickenson bent lower he heard faintly: "Not dead yet, old man, but,"--His voice sounded very faint after he had paused a few moments, and then continued: "It was very near." _ |
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