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The Kopje Garrison: A Story of the Boer War, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 22. For A Night Attack |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. FOR A NIGHT ATTACK It was a weird march in the silence and darkness, but the men were as elastic of spirits as if they had been on their way to some festivity. There may have been some exceptions, but extremely few; and Dickenson was not above suggesting one, not ill-naturedly, but in his anxiety for the success of the expedition, as he explained to Lennox in a whisper when they were talking over the merits of the different non-commissioned officers. "I don't believe I shall ever make a good soldier, Drew," he said. "What!" was the reply; and then, "Why?" "Oh, I suppose I've got my whack of what some people call brute courage, for as soon as I get excited or hurt I never think of being afraid, but go it half-mad-like, wanting to do all the mischief I can to whoever it is that has hurt me; but what I shall always want will be the cool, calm chess-player's head that helps a man to take advantage of every move the enemy makes, and check him. I shall always be the fellow who shoves out his queen and castle and goes slashing into the adversary till he smashes him or gets too far to retreat, and is then smashed up himself." "Well, be content with what you can do," said Lennox, "and trust to the cool-headed man as your leader. You'll be right enough in your way." "Thankye. I say, how a trip like this makes you think of your men and what they can do!" "Naturally," said Lennox. "One of the things I've learnt is," continued Dickenson, "how much a regiment like ours depends on its non-commissioned officers." "Of course," replied Lennox. "They're all long-experienced, highly-trained, picked men. See how they step into the breach sometimes when the leaders are down." "By George, yes!" whispered Dickenson enthusiastically.--"Oh, bother that stone! Hff!--And I hope we sha'n't have them stepping into any breaches to-night." "Why?" "Why! Because we don't want the leaders to go down." "No, of course not," said Lennox, laughing softly. "But, talking about non-commissioned officers, we're strong enough. Look at James." "Oh yes; he's as good as a colonel in his way." "And the other sergeants too." "Capital, well-tried men," said Dickenson; "but I was thinking of the corporals." "Well, there's hardly a man among them who mightn't be made a sergeant to-morrow." "Hum!" said Dickenson. "What do you mean?" cried Lennox shortly. "What I say. Hum! Would you make that chap Corporal May a sergeant?" "Well, no: I don't think I would." "Don't think? Why, the fellow's as great a coward as he is a sneak." "Don't make worse of the man than he is." "I won't," said Dickenson. "I'll amend my charge. He's as great a sneak as he is a coward." "Poor fellow! he mustn't come to you for his character." "Poor fellow! Yes, that's what he is--an awfully poor fellow. Corporal May? Corporal _Mayn't_, it ought to be. No, he needn't come to me for his character. He'll have to go to Roby, who is trying his best to get him promoted. Asked me the other day whether I didn't think he was the next man for sergeant." "What did you say?" "Told Roby that he ought to be the very last." "You did?" "Of course: right out." "What did Roby say?" "Told me I was a fool--he didn't use that word, but he meant it--and then said downright that fortunately my opinion as to the men's qualities wasn't worth much." "What did you say to that?" "'Thankye;' that's all. Bah! It set me thinking about what a moll the fellow was in that cave business. It was sheer cowardice, old man. He confessed it, and through that your accident happened. I don't like Corporal May, and I wish to goodness he wasn't with us to-night. I'm hopeful, though." "Hopeful? Of course. I dare say he'll behave very well." "I daren't, old man; but I'm hopeful that he'll fall out with a sore foot or a sprained ankle through stumbling over a stone or bush. That's the sort of fellow who does--" "Pst! We're talking too much," whispered Lennox, to turn the conversation, which troubled him, for inwardly he felt ready to endorse every word his comrade had uttered. "Oh, I'm talking in a fly's whisper. What a fellow you are! Always ready to defend anybody." "Pst!" "There you go again with your _Pst_! Just like a sick locomotive." "What's that?" "I didn't hear anything. Oh yes, I do. That howl. There it goes again. One of those beautiful hyenas. I say, Drew." "Yes?" "My old people at home live in one of those aesthetic Surrey villages full of old maids and cranks who keep all kinds of useless dogs and cats. The old folks are awfully annoyed by them of a night. When I've been down there staying for a visit I've felt ready to jump out of bed and shell the neighbourhood with jugs, basins, and water-bottles. But _lex talionis_, as the lawyers call it--pay 'em back in their own coin. What a game it would be to take the old people home a nice pet hyena or a young jackal to serenade the village of a night!" "There is an old proverb about cutting your nose off to be revenged upon your face. There, be quiet; I want to think of the work in hand." "I don't," replied Dickenson; "not till we're going to begin, and then I'm on." The night grew darker as they drew nearer to their goal, for a thin veil of cloud shut out the stars; but it was agreed that it was all the better for the advance. In fact, everything was favourable; for the British force had week by week grown less demonstrative, contenting itself with acting on the defensive, and the reconnoitring that had gone on during the past few days had been thoroughly masked by the attempts successfully made to carry off a few sheep, this being taken by the enemy as the real object of the excursions. For the Boers, after their long investment of Groenfontein and the way in which they had cut off all communications, were perfectly convinced that the garrison was rapidly growing weaker, and that as soon as ever their ammunition died out the prize would fall into their hands like so much ripe fruit. They were thus lulled as it were into a state of security, which enabled the little surprise force to reach the place made for without encountering a single scout. Then, with the men still fresh, a halt was made where the character of the ground suddenly changed from open, rolling, bush-sprinkled veldt to a slight ascent dotted with rugged stones, which afforded excellent cover for a series of rushes if their approach were discovered before they were close up. This was about a mile from the little low kopje where the Boers were laagered; and as soon as the word to halt had been whispered along the line the men lay down to rest for the two hours settled in the plans before making their final advance, while the first alarm of the sentries on guard was to be the signal for the bayonet-charge. "I don't think we need say any more to the lads," whispered the major as the officers crept together for a few final words. "They all know that the striking of a match for a furtive pipe would be fatal to the expedition." "Yes," said Captain Roby, "and to a good many of us. But the lads may be trusted." "Yes, I believe so," said the major. "There's one thing I should like to say, though," said Roby. "I've been thinking about it all the time we've been on the march." "What is it, Roby?" said the major.--"Can you hear, Edwards--all of you?" "Yes--yes," was murmured, for the officers' heads were pretty close together. "I've been thinking," said Captain Roby, "that if we divided our force and attacked on two sides at once, the Boers would believe that we were in far greater force, and the panic would be the greater." "Excellent advice," said the major, "if our numbers were double; but it would weaken our attack by half--oh, by far more than half. No, Roby, I shall keep to the original plan. We don't know enough of the kopje, and in the darkness we could not ensure making the attack at the same moment, nor yet in the weakest places. We must keep as we are. Get as close as we can without being discovered, and then the bugles must sound, and with a good British cheer we must be into them." "Yes, yes, yes," was murmured, and Captain Roby was silent for a brief space. "Very well, sir," he said coldly. "You know best." "I don't know that, Roby," replied the major; "but I think that is the better plan--a sudden, sharply delivered surprise with the bayonet. The enemy will have no chance to fire much, and we shall be at such close quarters that they will be at a terrible disadvantage." "Yes," said Captain Edwards as the major ceased speaking; "let them have their rear open to run, and let our task be to get them on the run. I agree with the major: no alterations now." "No," said Dickenson in a low growl; "no swapping horses when you're crossing a stream." "I have done," said Roby, and all settled down into silence, the officers resting like the men, but rising to creep along the line from time to time to whisper a word or two with the non-commissioned officers, whom they found thoroughly on the alert, ready to rouse up a man here and there who was coolly enough extended upon his back sleeping, to pass the time to the best advantage before it was time to fight. Every now and then there came a doleful, despairing yelp from some hungry animal prowling about in search of prey, and mostly from the direction of the Boer laager, where food could be scented. Twice, too, from far off to their left, where the wide veldt extended, there came the distant, awe-inspiring, thunderous roar of a lion; but for the most part of the time the stillness around was most impressive, with sound travelling so easily in the clear air that the neighing of horses was plainly heard again and again, evidently coming from the Boer laager, unless, as Lennox suggested, a patrol might be scouting round. But as each time it came apparently from precisely the same place, the first idea was adopted, especially as it was exactly where the enemy's camp was marked down. The two hours seemed very long to Lennox, who lay thinking of home, and of how little those he loved could realise the risky position he occupied that night. Dickenson was flat upon his back with his hands under his head, going over again the scene in the cavern when he was looking down the chasm and watching the movement of the light his friend had attached to his belt. "Not a pleasant thing to think about," he said to himself, "but it makes me feel savage against that corporal, and it's getting my monkey up, for we've got to fight to-night as we never fought before. We've got to whip, as the Yankees say--'whip till we make the beggars run.' What a piece of impudence it does seem!" he said to himself a little later on. "Here we are, about a hundred and fifty hungry men, and I'll be bound to say there's about fifteen hundred of the enemy. But then they don't grasp it. They're beggars to sleep, and if we're lucky we shall be on to them before they know where they are. Oh, we shall do it;" and he lay thinking again of Corporal May, feeling like a boy once more; and he was just at the pitch when he muttered to himself, "What a pity it is that an officer must not strike one of his men!--for I should dearly like to punch that fellow's head.--Ha! here's the major. Never mind, there'll be other heads waiting over yonder, and I dare say I shall get all I want." He turned over quickly, not to speak, but to grip his comrade's hand, for the word was being passed to fall in, and as he and Lennox gripped each other's hands hard and in silence, a soft, rustling movement was heard. For the men were springing to their feet and arranging their pouches and belts, before giving their rifles a thorough rub to get rid of the clinging clew. "Fall in" was whispered, and the men took their places with hardly a sound. "Fix bayonets!" was the next order, and a faint--very faint--metallic clicking ran along the lines, followed by a silence so deep that the breathing of the men could be heard. "Forward!" There was no need for more, and the officers led off, with the one idea of getting as close to the Boers as possible before they were discovered, and then charging home, keeping their men as much together as they could, and knowing full well that much must be left to chance. The next minute the men were advancing softly in double line, opening out and closing up, as obstacles in the shape of stone and bush began to be frequent. But there was no hurry, no excitement. They had ample time, and when one portion of the force was a little entangled by a patch of bush thicker than usual, those on either side halted so as to keep touch, and in this way the first half-mile was passed, the only sound they heard being the neighing of a horse somewhere in front. _ |
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