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Charge! - A Story of Briton and Boer, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 31. Denham's Bad Luck |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY ONE. DENHAM'S BAD LUCK The men of the corps were in high glee during the following days, the Boers making two or three attempts to cut off our grazing horses and oxen, but smarting terribly for being so venturesome. In each case they were sent to the right-about, while our cattle were driven back into safety without the loss of a man. The enemy still surrounded us, occupying precisely the same lines; and, thoroughly dissatisfied with a style of fighting which meant taking them into the open to attack our stronghold, they laagered and strengthened their position, waiting for us to attack them. This could only be done at the risk of terrible loss and disaster, for the Boers were so numerous that any attempt to cut through them might only result in our small force being surrounded and overwhelmed by sheer weight of numbers. Therefore our Colonel decided not to make an attack. "The Colonel says they're ten to one, Val; and as we've plenty of water and provisions, he will leave all 'acting on the aggressive' to the Doppies." This remark was made by my companion Denham when we had been in possession of the old fortress for nearly a fortnight. At first, while still suffering a little from the injuries I had received, the confinement was depressing; but as I gradually recovered from my wrenches and bruises, and as there was so much to do, and we were so often called upon to be ready for the enemy, the days and nights passed not unpleasantly. Discipline was strictly enforced, and everything was carried out in the most orderly way. Horses and cattle were watered and sent out to graze in charge of escorts, and a troop was drawn up beyond the walls, ready to dash out should the Boers attempt to cut them off; guard was regularly mounted; and the men were set to build stone walls and roofs in parts of the old place, to give protection from the cold nights and the rain that might fall at any time. As for the men, they were as jolly as the proverbial sandboys; and at night the walls echoed with song and chorus. Then games were contrived, some played by the light of the fires and others outside the walls. Bats, balls, and stumps were made for cricket; of course very roughly fashioned, but they afforded as much amusement as if they had come straight from one of the best English makers. There was, however, a monotony about our food-supply, and the officers more than once banteringly asked me when I was going to cut out another half-dozen wagons. "Bring more variety next time," they said merrily. "Pick out one loaded with tea, coffee, sugar, and butter." "Yes," cried Denham, laughing; "and when you are about it, bring us some pots and kettles and potatoes. We can eat the big ones; and, as we seem to be settled here for the rest of our days, we're going to start a garden and plant the little 'taters in that." "To be sure," said another officer; "and I say, young fellow, mind and choose one of the next teams with some milch-cows in it. I feel as if I should like to milk." I laughed too, but I felt as if I should not much like to undertake such another expedition as the last, and that it would be pleasanter to remain content with the roast beef and very decent bread our men contrived to make in the old furnace after it had been a bit modified, or with the "cookies" that were readily made on an iron plate over a fire of glowing embers. Oh no! I don't mean damper, that stodgy cake of flour and water fried in a pan; they were the very eatable cakes one of our corporals turned out by mixing plenty of good beef-dripping with the flour, and kneading all up together. They were excellent--or, as Denham said, would have been if we had possessed some salt. One of our greatest difficulties was the want of fuel, for it was scarce around the old stronghold when we had cut down all the trees and bushes growing out of the ledges and cracks about the kopje; and the question had been mooted whether we should not be obliged to blast out some of the roots wedged in amongst the stones by ramming in cartridges. But while there was any possibility of making adventurous raids in all directions where patches of trees existed, and the men could gallop out, halt, and each man, armed with sword and a piece of rein, cut his faggot, bind it up, and gallop back, gunpowder was too valuable to be used for blasting roots. This was now, however, becoming a terribly difficult problem, for the enemy--eagerly seizing upon the chance to make reprisals when these were attended by no great risk to themselves-- had more than once chased and nearly captured our foraging parties. Consequently all thoughts of fires for warmth during the cold nights, when they would have been most welcome, were abandoned; while the men eagerly volunteered for cooks' assistants; and the officers were not above gathering in the old furnace-place of a night, after the cooking was over, for the benefit of the warmth still emitted by the impromptu oven. Meanwhile every economy possible was practised, and the fuel store jealously guarded. The said fuel store consisted of every bone of the slaughtered animals that could be saved, and even the hides; these, though malodorous, giving out a fine heat when helped by the green faggots, which were in turn started ablaze by chips of the gradually broken-up wagons. Then, too, the veldt was laid under contribution, men going out mounted, and furnished with sacks, which they generally brought back full of the scattered bones of game which had at one time swarmed in the neighbourhood, but had been ruthlessly slaughtered by the Boers. So the days glided on, with not the slightest prospect, apparently, of our escape. "Every one's getting precious impatient, Val," said Denham one day when we were idling up on the walls with his field-glass, after lying listlessly chatting about the old place and wondering what sort of people they were who built it, and whether they did originally come gold-hunting from Tyre and Sidon. "Yes," he added, "we are impatient in the extreme." "It doesn't seem like it," I replied; "the men are contented enough." "Pooh! They're nobody. I mean the officers. The chief's leg's pretty nearly right again, and he was saying at mess only yesterday that it was a most unnatural state of affairs for British officers to be forced by a set of low-bred Dutch Boers, no better than farm-labourers, to eat their beef without either mustard, horse-radish, or salt." "Horrible state of destitution," I said quietly. "None of your sneers, Farmer Val," he cried. "He's right, and I'm getting sick of it myself. He says it is such an ignoble position for a mounted corps to suffer themselves to be shut up here, and not to make another dash for freedom." "Well, I shall be glad if we make another attempt to get through their lines," I said thoughtfully. "That's what the Major said, when, hang me! if the chief didn't turn suddenly round like a weathercock, and say that what we were doing was quite right, because we held this great force of Boers occupied so that the General might carry out his plans without being harassed by so large a body of men." "That's right enough," I said. "Don't you get blowing hot and cold," cried Denham, with impatience. "Then some one else sided with the Colonel. It was the doctor, I think. He said the General must know when, where, and how we were situated, and that sooner or later he would attack the Boers, rout them, and set us at liberty." "That sounds wise," I hazarded. "No, it doesn't," said my companion; "because we shouldn't want setting at liberty then. Do you suppose that if we heard the General's guns, and found that he was attacking the enemy, we should sit still here and look on?" "Well, it wouldn't be right," I replied. "Right? Of course not. As soon as the attack was made we should file out and begin to hover on the enemy's flank or rear, or somewhere else, waiting our time, and then go at them like a wedge and scatter them. Oh, how I do long to begin!" "It seems to me," I said thoughtfully, "that the General ought to have sent some one to find us and bring us a despatch ordering the Colonel what to do." "I dare say he has--half-a-dozen by now--and the Boers have captured them; but it doesn't matter." "Doesn't matter?" I said wonderingly. "No; because, depend upon it, he'd have ordered us to sit fast till he came." "Well, but oughtn't the Colonel to have sent out a despatch or two telling the General how we are fixed?" "Yes--no--I don't know," said Denham sourly. "I'm only a subaltern--a bit of machinery that is wound up sometimes by my superior officers, and then I turn round till I'm stopped. Subalterns are not expected to have any brains, or to think for themselves." "Now you are exaggerating," I said. "Not a bit of it, my little man. But I know what I should have done if I had been chief." "What's that?" "Sent out a smart fellow who could track and ride." "With a despatch for the General?" "No; a message that couldn't fall into the enemy's hands. I'd have gone like a shot." "You couldn't send yourself," I said dryly. "Eh? What do you mean?" "You were telling me what you would have done if you had been chief." "Bah! Yah! Don't you pretend to be so sharp. That's what the old man ought to do, though--send out a messenger, and if he didn't find the General he'd find out how things are going. I believe the Boers are licking our regular troops." "Oh, nonsense!" I said, looking startled. "Impossible." "Nothing's impossible in war, my boy. I'm getting uncomfortable. You'd go with a message if you were ordered?" "Of course," I said. "Of course you would. That's what the chief ought to do, and I've a good mind to tell him so. But I say," he added, in alarm, "don't you go and tell any one what I've been talking about." I looked him in the face and laughed. "Of course you will not," said Denham confidently. "Hullo! Going?" "Yes; I want to go and see how the great Irish captain is," I replied. "What do you want to go and see him for?" said my companion angrily. "I hardly know," I replied. "I like to see that he's getting better." "Well, you are a rum chap," cried Denham. "I should have thought you would like to go and sit upon the bragging brute. Why, last time, when I went with you, he talked to both of us as if we were two privates in his Boer corps." "Yes, he's a self-satisfied, inflated sort of fellow; but he's wounded and a prisoner." "What of that? It's only what he ought to be. I want to know what's to be done with him." "The Colonel won't send him to the Boer lines when he's well enough to move, I hope." "Not he. I expect he'll be kept till he can be handed over to the General. Here, I'll come with you." I was quite willing, and we descended to the hospital, as the shut-off part of one of the passages was called; and there sat the only patient and prisoner, with an armed sentry close at hand to prevent any attempt at escape. The Captain turned his head sharply on hearing our footsteps, and gave us both a haughty stare, which amused Denham, making him look to me and smile. "Oh, you've come at last," said the patient. "I've been wanting you." "What is it?" I said. "Water?" "Bah!" he replied, his upper lip curling. "I want you to bring your chief officer here." "I dare say you do, my fine fellow," cried Denham. "Pretty good for a prisoner! You don't suppose he'll come--do you? Here, what do you want? Tell me, and I'll carry your message to the chief." Moriarty gave the young officer a contemptuous glance, and then turned to me. "Go and tell the Colonel, or whatever he is, that I am greatly surprised at his inattention to my former message." "Did you send a message?" I asked, surprised by his words. "Of course I did, two days ago, by the surgeon. It's not gentlemanly of your Colonel. Go and tell him that I feel well enough to move now, and that I desire him to send me with a proper escort, and under a white flag, to make an exchange of prisoners." "Well, I'll take your message," I said; "but--" "Yes, go at once," said Moriarty, "and bring me back an answer, for I'm sick of this place." He turned away, and, without so much as a glance at Denham, lay back, staring up at the sky. "Well," said Denham when we were out of hearing, "of all the arrogance and cheek I ever witnessed, that fellow possesses the most. Here, what are you going to do?" "Take the message to the Colonel," I replied. "Going to do what?" cried Denham. "Nothing of the kind." "But I promised him." "I know you did; but you must have a fit of delirium coming on. It's being too much up in the sun." "Nonsense," I said. "I've no time for joking." "Joking, my dear boy? Nothing of the kind. I'm going to take you to the doctor; he'll nip your complaint in the bud." "Absurd," I cried. "Come with me to the Colonel." "What! To deliver the message?" "Of course." "No, Val, my boy. I like you too well to let you go to the old man. Do you know what he'd do?" "Send me back to our friend there with a message as sharp as a sword. Of course I know he will not send him across to the Boers." "My dear Val," said Denham solemnly, "let me inform your ignorance exactly what would happen. I know the chief from old experience. He'll sit back and listen to you with one of those pleasant smiles he puts on when he's working himself up into a rage. He'll completely disarm you-- as he did me once--and all the time, as he hears you patiently to the end, he'll think nothing about my lord Paddy there, but associate you, my poor boy, with what he will consider about the most outrageous piece of impudence he ever had addressed to him. Then suddenly he'll spring up and say--No, I will not spoil the purity of the atmosphere this beautiful evening by repeating a favourite expletive of his--he'll say something you will not at all like, and then almost kick you out of his quarters." "I don't believe it," I said. "That's giving me the lie, Val, my boy. He'll be in such a rage that he'll forget himself; for, though he's a splendid soldier, and as brave a man as ever crossed a charger, he is one of the--" "What, Mr Denham?" said the gentleman of whom he spoke, suddenly standing before us. "Pray speak out; I like to hear what my officers think of me." _ |
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