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Charge! - A Story of Briton and Boer, a novel by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 7. My Nocturnal Visitor

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_ CHAPTER SEVEN. MY NOCTURNAL VISITOR

As I moved it moved too; and I dimly saw the outstretched head and body, as I supposed, of a monstrous lion about to spring, when, the fire having flashed up more brightly, I uttered a gasp of relief. It was Sandho, who had come quietly up to the fire for company and protection.

I worked the harder then, and kept on hour after hour, having to take longer and longer journeys as I exhausted the supply close at hand; and all the time I was perfectly conscious that lions were near, prowling round our little apology for a camp so as to spring upon the horse and pull him down. Every time I started for more fuel I expected to hear a roar and feel one of the savage creatures spring upon me; but the night wore on, with the fire giving a steadier glow as the time passed. I suppose the fact of my keeping up a hurried movement, making a desperate rush here and there, with the light from the fire throwing up my figure plainly, was too much for the great cats, and they feared to attack. Whatever it was, they were kept at bay; and daybreak found me thoroughly exhausted, the last growl having died out, the light showing the great soft footprints of our enemies round and round the clump of bushes, crossing and recrossing, and suggesting that there had been a party of four--an old lioness and her nearly full-grown cubs.

It was a narrow escape; and, as if only too glad to get away from so dangerous a spot, Sandho so fidgeted to start that I had hard work to secure the broken end of his rein to the ring of the bit without shortening it so much that I could not hold it in my hand.

I took a good look round, however, before starting, and it was well I did so, for, clearly seen now in the level sunbeams away to the north, there was a party of horsemen riding in my direction, and discovery seemed certain, even if I had not already been seen.

My first idea was to spring into the saddle and gallop off; but I was in no condition for springing into my saddle. Crippled as I was, it meant a slow and painful climb, and then in all probability the utmost I could do would be to walk my horse slowly away.

To mount, lie down, and urge the horse round to the back of the clump of bushes which had formed my shelter during the past night, and then cautiously strike off straight away towards the mountains at a walk, doing my best to keep the shelter of scrub between me and the enemy, seemed the wiser plan, and this I put into execution.

I had several things in my favour by doing this: the distance between me and the horsemen was great; and I felt certain that, if it were a portion of the captain's troop, they had no glass of any kind. If they caught sight of me in making my retreat, they would only fancy they saw the figure of some peculiar, humpbacked-looking animal; and on making for the mountains my position upon Sandho's back would never lead them to suppose it was a horse bearing a rider. This supposition, too, would be helped by the fact that there were still little herds and single wanderers, the relics of the vast hosts of antelopes of various species, from the tiny gazelle-like animals up through the clumsy hartebeeste and wildebeeste to the huge eland; and at a distance I felt it possible that myself and steed might be taken for one of these.

While thinking thus, and going through a painful struggle to get upon my horse properly, it seemed to me that the party were visibly coming nearer; but, hidden as we were by the bushes, I could see, from where I lay on my horse's back, as I turned my eyes in their direction, that so far I was not discovered. The crucial test, however, was yet to come; for, though I could keep Sandho out of sight for half a mile possibly, the land was gradually rising, and in that distance or less, I knew, we should stand out plainly in the clear air. Then, if seen, suffer what I might, I was determined to urge my horse on to his greatest speed, leaving the rest to fate.

I had no trouble with my well-trained steed, which obeyed every word or pressure; and with eyes so turned that I could keep the bush between us, I guided Sandho on till, as I had anticipated, the party of mounted men came gradually into view--first only the men, but soon after their horses. So far, they were going only at a walk, to pass the track diagonally to my course and some distance away.

As they were so visible, I felt they must soon see me, and tried hard to efface myself as much as possible, knowing that my dusky-brownish, homespun breeches, flannel shirt, and tanned high boots must assimilate well with the coat of my chestnut horse, and this cheered me a little.

Then, suddenly, I knew I was seen, for one of the men drew rein, letting the others go on a few horse-lengths before; and, as if in answer to a summons from the man behind, the rest of the party halted and sat gazing in my direction.

The next minute the man who had halted by himself now dismounted, and I saw a gleaming light glance from where he stood and then dropped down. It was too far off for me to see distinctly; but knowledge supplied what my eyes failed to grasp, and I knew the gleam was from his rifle-barrel reflecting the sun's rays, and the man's attitude that of one about to try a long shot at the uncouth animal in view beyond the thorny scrub.

There is an old-fashioned saying about people's feelings in critical moments: that their hearts stood still. Now, I don't believe for a moment that mine ceased to beat; but it certainly felt as if it did, while I lay rising and falling, yielding to Sandho's movements, and gazing straight back at the little hole which I knew must be pointed straight at me--invisible, of course; but the little puff of white smoke which suddenly jetted into the air was plain enough to my eyes, and so was the peculiar buzzing sound to my ears as the bullet passed over me like some strange bee in a violent hurry to reach its hive. Then came the sharp crack as of a sjambok wielded by a strong and well-accustomed arm.

"A miss, and no wonder!" I exclaimed; and I suppose I must have started and given Sandho a familiar pressure, or else it was the instinct of self-preservation at work in the sensible animal, for he suddenly made a bound forward so unexpectedly that I was nearly unseated; but my arms were now free, and, reaching down and getting tight hold of his leathern breastplate, I held on and let him go. The instinct of self-preservation was also strongly to the fore in me, and I lay fully expecting to hear the whizzing of half-a-dozen more bullets and the cracking of the rifles, since naturally I could see nothing then, my face lying against the horse's neck, as he bounded on at an easy gallop.

Were the enemy in pursuit?

I strained my hearing, but I could make out nothing more than the regular beat of my horse's hoofs; while, as no shots came, I felt certain they had made out my figure and were coming on in full chase.

"They'll have a long one," I thought; for, though I was in great pain, I found, to my intense delight, that I could accommodate myself to Sandho's long swinging gallop as he spurned the soft loose earth behind him, the ascent being exceedingly slight; and we were progressing in a series of antelope-like bounds.

At last, after galloping for quite ten minutes, something in front made Sandho swerve round to the left; and, before raising my head to see what it was, I turned my face sidewise so as to get a glance back at my pursuers, and could hardly believe my eyes when I saw that no Boers were there. It was not until I raised my head a little to gaze back in the other direction that I could see them far away in the distance, evidently pursuing the course they had followed before the incidents of the halt and shot occurred.

Now I held on tightly and raised my head, endeavouring to make out why my horse had swerved. There it was plain enough: another of the stony kops which rose up to block our way had forced him to gallop along the unencumbered ground at the foot of a great line of hills, beyond which was the peak I had marked down as being in the neighbourhood of Echo Nek.

Unfortunately the land here was all strange to me, my journeys never having led me so far on this side of the mountains. Still, I felt I must be going in the direction of the Nek, and that sooner or later I should come to some valley into which I could strike off to the right, and get through and round by the peak beyond which I now certainly believed Echo Nek must be.

I made no effort to check Sandho, who was keeping on nearly level ground, but now raised myself upright in the saddle to watch for that which I had forgotten during the time I was in danger, but now that I was comparatively safe seemed to be the very first thing I should seek.

Many hours had now passed since, I had broken my fast; and at eighteen the desire for food is a tyrant against which no growing boy or young man can fight. But no. To my right were the rugged, barren hills undotted by bullock or sheep; to the left a far-spreading stretch of unfertile veldt; and though I cantered on for another full hour not a homestead came into sight.

At last, however, I saw a break in the continuous ridge of hills on my right, and eased Sandho down into his gentle amble, not willing to press him hard, for I knew that at any minute I might be obliged to urge him to his greatest speed.

In another half-hour we were bearing off to the right, for the hills had opened into a broad valley, at the head of which the great peak I had seen now rose up as if to block the way; and in spite of my hunger I felt lighter-hearted, for I was getting sure of my bearings. Yes, there beyond the shoulder of the peak was the crag just below which lay Echo Nek only a few miles away, not more than an hour's canter along the fairly even valley, and then--Oh, if Joeboy should not be there!

"He must; he is sure to be," I said half-aloud. "Even if he were not there, father would know how I should be pressed for food, and be there himself."

This was an encouraging and cheering thought; and, inspired with fresh hope, I rode on, wondering that, though the veldt looked so unpromising, some one had not taken up land, if only in the hope of finding minerals where the soil forbade the fruits of fertile earth; but no. All was barren and strange; even the granite blocks and kops were rare, and I looked still in vain for some sign of human habitation, some track of wheel or print of foot. The last I did begin to see now; but they were not the prints of ironshod hoofs, only those of antelopes, large and small, and not too frequent. Still, here was sign; and as I looked more closely I twice saw the soft round prints of the great sand-coloured cats, and my eyes began now to roam afield in the expectation of perhaps seeing those which had made the marks. No; the open valley that twenty or thirty years earlier might have been alive with game was absolutely desolate; not one of the vast herds which used to roam there, as the old Boers had often told me, was to be seen.

There was nothing whatever to break the long slopes of sand-coloured soil.

Ah! what was that on the ridge to my left, which ran down till it lost itself in the open bottom of the valley along which Sandho gently cantered? Some white-feathered and familiar birds, displaying their soft plumes, which looked ostrich-like in the distance. What could it be? I knew no bird, in spite of my wanderings, that ever looked like that. Still, a bird was a bird, and game, and the thought of game at such a time was glorious; but my spirits sank again, for I had no weapon, and then the grapes seemed to be sour.

"It isn't a bird; only a feather or two dropped by some old cock ostrich," I said aloud.

No. The feathers began to rise from the edge of the ridge, and there was a black face beneath them, then the broad breast, and finally the full figure of a stalwart Kaffir warrior, his thin arms and ankles ornamented with wool, his savage panoply of shield and assagai in his left hand, and his eyes shaded by his right hand, which cut straight across his forehead just below the fillet holding the three white ostrich feathers. He was evidently watching me. _

Read next: Chapter 8. Perils Which Grow

Read previous: Chapter 6. Night On The Veldt

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