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Middy and Ensign, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 59. Like Brothers In Distress |
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_ CHAPTER FIFTY NINE. LIKE BROTHERS IN DISTRESS It was a strange country to struggle through, for roads hardly had any existence. The rivers were the highways, and upon the banks the villages or campongs of the Malays were invariably placed. There were a few narrow tracks, such as the one the retreating party hurried along, but all else was dense jungle, the untrodden home of wild beasts. So dense was it that there was fortunately nothing to fear from attack on either side. It must come from the front, or else from the rear. Neither friend nor foe could penetrate many yards through the wall of verdure that shut them in to right and left. To have tried to flank them without literally breaking a way through the canes and interlacing plants was impossible. On being asked how long it would take to march to the river and strike it high up, the Malay replied, three days of hard walking; and the hearts of his hearers sank as they thought of their position, with scarcely any provender, no covering against the night dews or heavy rains, and only the earth for their resting-place, while a virulent enemy was always on their track, striving hard to cut off all they could. There was no other course open, however, but to face it, for it would have been madness to have tried to fight their way through the hostile country; and every one bent manfully to the task. As they struggled on through the steamy bush the rear-guard was changed again and again, a fresh party of defenders taking up the task of keeping the pursuers at bay, and to each man in turn was the warning given that no shot must be fired unless it could be made to tell; consequently the fire was less fierce, but, as the Malays found to their cost, more fatal. The end of the third day was approaching, and the progress of the party had grown slower and slower, for their guide's strength had failed. The poor fellow had fought on bravely in spite of his wounds, insisting that he was well enough to walk, when all the time he was suffering intense agony; and this was not to be without its result. During the day the Malays had attacked far more fiercely than usual, and though always repulsed, it had not been without loss. Several men had fallen, while others were wounded, increasing terribly the difficulties of the case, for the injured men had to be carried by those who found that their task of fighting their way through the jungle in the midst of the dense heat was already as much as they could bear. Still no one murmured. The pleasure-trip had turned out to be one of terrible misery, but each man, soldier or sailor, had a cheery word for his neighbour; and whenever an unfortunate received a spear or bullet wound, the doctor was on the spot directly, tending him; while a couple of his comrades deftly cut a few canes and bound them together, making a light litter, upon which the wounded man was placed, and carried on the shoulders of four men. The wounded made a terrible demand upon the sound; and now, to add to their trouble, men began to fall out of the ranks stricken down by disease. It was no more than the doctor anticipated; but it was terrible work. Captain Horton was one of the first--after fighting bravely in the rear--to go to the doctor and complain of his head. "I can't get on, doctor," he said. "The giddiness is dreadful, and the pain worse. Give me something to ease it all." The doctor said he would, and prescribed what he could from the little case he had with him, but he knew what was coming. Captain Horton had taken the jungle fever, and in an hour he was strapped down upon a litter, raving with delirium. Then another, and another, went down, the officers falling one after another, till Major Sandars was left alone with the doctor, who had to divide his time between attending to his many patients and handling a rifle to help in their defence. The consequence was that on the third night, instead of being near the river, they were halted in the dense jungle, with their outposts on the alert, and the rest throwing themselves beside the sick and wounded, too much exhausted even to care for food. Major Sandars and the doctor stood talking together beneath the shade of a silk-cotton tree, whose leaves seemed to keep off a portion of the heavy falling dew, and the former was waiting for an answer from his companion, who, however, did not speak. "Come, say something, doctor," exclaimed the major; "what do you think of affairs?" "What can I say?" replied the doctor, sadly; "we can go no farther." "But we must," exclaimed the major, impatiently. "The river must be reached, and a message sent down to the steamer." "There is only one way," replied Doctor Bolter. "How is that?" "Leave the sick and wounded behind, and push on. The poor fellows can carry them no farther." "Then we'll stop where we are," said the major, sharply, "for I won't leave a man behind." "Of course you will not. I knew you would say so. Then all I can recommend is that we stay as we are for a few days, and try and recruit." "With bad water, and hardly any provisions," said the major. "Ah, Bolter, this is a terribly bad business." "Yes," said the doctor, holding out his hand, which was eagerly grasped, "it is a terrible business. But you know what the foreigners say of us, Sandars?" "No: what do you mean?" "That the English never know when they are beaten. We don't know when we are beaten, and our lads are like us. God bless them, poor fellows, for they are as patient as can be!" "What do you advise, then?" said the major. "It is your duty to advise." "I did advise," said the doctor, laughing. "I proposed lopping off the bad limb of our little party, so as to leave the rest free to hobble on." "And suppose I had consented to it," said the major; "made the sick and wounded as comfortable as we could, and pushed on with the rest, what would you do?" "Do?" said Doctor Bolter; "I don't understand you." "I mean, of course you would have to come with us; for the Malays would butcher the poor fellows as soon as they came up." "Come with you, major? Are you mad? Why, who would tend the poor boys, and see to their bandages? No, my dear Sandars. Your place is with the sound, mine is with the unsound. Go on with your lot--poor fellows--and see if you can reach the river. You might perhaps send help in time to save us. If you didn't, why, I should have made them comfortable to the end, and done my duty." "My dear doctor," said Major Sandars, holding out his hand. "My dear major," said the doctor. "Good-bye, then; and God bless you!" "What!" cried the major. "And did you think I was going?" "Of course!" "More shame for you, then, for thinking me such a cur. Leave you and these poor fellows here in the midst of the jungle, to be murdered by those cowardly pirates? Not I. Why, the men would mutiny if I proposed such a thing. No; we'll wait a few hours, and then get on a few miles and rest again, the best way we can." "But you will only get the poor fellows killed if you stay," said the doctor. "Well, hadn't we all better be killed like men doing our duty, than go off and live like cowards and curs?" "Of course you had," said the doctor, speaking huskily. "But I felt that it was my duty to leave you free." "Doctor," said the major, laying his hand upon the other's shoulder, "there's nothing like trouble for making a man know what a deal of good there is in human nature. You're a good fellow, doctor. Hang it, man, you've made me feel as soft as a girl!" He turned away his face, that staunch, brave soldier, for a few moments, and then the weakness was past, and he turned sharply round to the doctor. "Now," he said, "you shall see what stuff our soldiers and sailors are made of. Come here." He led the doctor back to the rear, where the guard, sun-blackened, haggard fellows, with their clothes hanging in rags from the thorns, were on the watch, and this being out of earshot of the sick and wounded, who were all ranged side by side beneath a couple of shady spreading trees, he gave the order for the men to fall in, when, with the precision that they would have shown upon a parade ground, the soldiers fell in, making one line; the sailors another in the rear. "Face inwards!" cried the major, and he turned first to the sailors. "My lads," he said, "your officers being all down, the duty of commanding you has fallen upon me, and I thank you for the ready way in which you have obeyed my orders. You have been as willing and as trusty as my own boys here, and that is saying a great deal." There was a little shuffling of feet at this, and the men looked uncomfortable. "I am sorry to say," continued the major, "that matters have come to such a grievous pass with us, that I have to make a statement, to which I want to hear your reply. I have no occasion to speak to you, for I know that you will to a man obey my orders to the last; but I want to hear what you will say." There was a pause here, and then the major went on,-- "Matters have come to this, my lads, that I see you can stagger on no longer with the loads you have to bear. In fact, two more poor fellows are down, and it will take every fighting man to carry the others. So I have been talking the matter over with the doctor, and it has come to this, that our only chance is to leave the sick and wounded, and push on, make for the river, in the hope of getting help, and coming back to save them. What do you say?" "Lord love you, sir," cried one of the sailors, "why, afore to-night them niggers would have sarved every one of our poor mates like the doctor, there, sarves the black beadles and butterflies--stuck a pin or a kris through 'em." It was a grim subject to jest upon, and it was a serious thing; but there was a roar of laughter from the men, and the doctor chuckled till he had to hold his sides, and then wipe his eyes. "I hope not so bad as that," said the major, when he had called _Attention_! "It is, however, I fear our only hope. Will some man among you speak?" There was a shuffling and a whispering at this, and every man nudged his neighbour to begin, but no one spoke till the sergeant felt that it was his duty, and going along the front of both ranks he had a few words with the soldiers and the jacks. After this he retook his place and saluted. "Men seem to be all of one opinion, sir," he said gruffly. "And what is that opinion?" inquired the major. "They say, sir, as I say, that they wouldn't like their mates to desert them in a time of trouble like this." "That's right, sergeant," shouted a sailor. "Yes, that's a true word," shouted another. "Attention, there!" cried the major, sharply. "Go on, sergeant." "And if so be as our officer don't order us different, we'll all stick to one another, sick and sound, to the end." "Hear, hear; hurray!" cried the men, as with one voice. "Do I understand, my lads, that you will stand by the sick and wounded to the last?" "Yes, sir, all on us!" shouted the men in chorus. "Yes, sir," cried the joking sailor, "and we'll all carry one another till there's only one left as can carry; and he'll have a jolly hard time of it, that's all." The stern discipline was for a moment forgotten, and a hearty roar of laughter followed this sally. "Attention!" cried the major after a few moments, and he spoke as if he was deeply moved. "It is only what I expected from my brave lads; and I may tell you now that this is what Doctor Bolter and I had determined to do--stand together to the last." "Only we won't have any last, my lads," cried the doctor. "I hope not," said the major. "We'll go on more slowly and take longer rests, for I must have no more of you men down with sickness. Let us hope that we may win our way safely to the ship and the island yet. I would send out a little party to try and fetch help, but I fear they are beset at the residency already, and I do not think a detachment could succeed. I propose then that we all hold together and do our best." "That we will, sir," cried the men, and a voice proposed three cheers for the major. These were hardly given before he held up his hand, and in a few words thanked them, while the doctor was called away. "And now, my lads, we will go forward once more, and do the best we can. If we can only get a mile a day it is something, and every man will lend a hand. We will march at once. Yes, doctor? More bad news?" "Yes," said Doctor Bolter, bluntly; "our guide has broken down." "Broken down?" "Yes, he is quite delirious." "And," muttered the major, "we are worse than helpless without a guide." _ |
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