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Charge! - A Story of Briton and Boer, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 40. Joeboy Is Missing Again |
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_ CHAPTER FORTY. JOEBOY IS MISSING AGAIN "What a breakfast!" groaned Denham half-an-hour later. "Never mind," I said; "we'll get something better, perhaps, to-morrow." "That we will, even if we commando it at the point of the sword, which is another way of saying we shall steal it. I say, though, the thought of all this is sending new life into me." "I feel the same," I said; then we sat back waiting till the doctor visited us, examined our injuries, and expressed himself satisfied. "Another week," he said, "and then I shall dismiss you both. Nature and care will do the rest." The doctor then left us; and, watching for an opportunity, we called to one of the men passing the hospital, and told him to find the black. However, ten minutes later we found that this might have been saved, for the Sergeant paid us a morning call, and on leaving promised to go round by the horses and send Joeboy to us. "What news of the messengers?" we asked. The Sergeant shook his head sadly, and replied, "Don't ask me, gentlemen. It looks bad--very bad. The Boers ain't soldiers, but they're keeping their lines wonderfully tight." "That's our fault," said Denham. "We gave them such lessons by our night attack and the capture of the six wagons and teams." "I say," said the Sergeant, and he looked from one to the other. "Well, what do you say?" cried Denham. "Doctor been changing your physic?" "Why?" I said. "Because you both look fifty pounds better than you did yesterday." "It's the hope that has come, Briggs," cried Denham, his face lighting up. "Haven't got a bit to spare, have you, sir?" said the Sergeant; "because I should like to try how it would agree with my case, for I'm horribly down in the mouth at present. I don't like the look of things at all." "What do you mean?" asked Denham. "I had a look round at the horses, sir, last night." "Not got the horse-sickness, Briggs?" "No, sir, not so bad as that; but, speaking as an old cavalry man, I say that they mustn't be kept shut up much longer. But there, I shall be spoiling your looks and knocking your hope over. Good-morning, gentlemen--I mean, lieutenant and private. Glad to see you both look so well. I'll tell Joe Black you want him." "Yes, he'd upset our hopefulness altogether, Val, if it wasn't for one thing--eh?" said Denham as the wagon-tilt swung to after the Sergeant. "But, I say, that fellow of yours ought to be here by now." "Yes," I said. But we waited anxiously for quite an hour before the man we had sent came back. "Can't find the black, sir," he said. "Did you go to the horses?" "Yes, sir, and everywhere else." "You didn't go to the butcher's?" I asked. "Yes, I did; but he hadn't been there." "Perhaps he's gone out with the bullock drove." "No," said the man; "the oxen are being kept in this morning because the Boers have come a hundred yards nearer during the night. They're well in opposite the gateway, and the Colonel's having our works there strengthened." "The Sergeant didn't say a word about that," Denham said to me. I shook my head, and turned to the messenger. "Is he asleep somewhere about the walls?" I asked. "No; I looked there," was the reply. "He always snoozes up on the inner wall, just above the water-hole. There's a place where a big stone has fallen out and no bullets can get at him. I looked there twice." "Hasn't fallen down one of the holes, has he?" said Denham. "Not he, sir," replied the man, laughing. "He'd go about anywhere in the dark, looking like a bit o' nothing, only you couldn't see it in the darkness, and never knock against a thing. It's his feet, I think; they always seem to know where to put theirselves. He wouldn't tumble down any holes." "Keep a sharp lookout for him, and when you see him send him to me directly." "Yes, sir," replied the man. "I dessay he'll turn up in the course o' the morning. He's always hiding himself and coming again when you don't expect it." "I say, Val," cried Denham as soon as we were alone, "we didn't reckon on this. Why, if he doesn't turn up our plan's done." "Not at all," I said. "Eh? What do you mean? We couldn't go without him." "Indeed, but we could; and what's more, we will," I said firmly. "I would rather have had him with us; but we're going to-night--if we can." Denham seized my hand and wrung it warmly. "I like that," he said; "but you shouldn't have put in that 'if we can.'" "Obliged to," I replied. "We may be stopped." "Oh, but I shall give the password." "We may find even that will not be enough. The orders are very strict now. Besides, if we did not come back the guard would report us missing, and then there'd be great excitement at once." "What would you do, then?" he asked. "Take a lesson out of that Irishman's book." "Knock two or three sentries on the head with a stone?" "No, no," I cried, laughing. "Get a couple of reins, tie them together, and then slide down from the wall." "Good!" exclaimed Denham; and, after a pause: "Better! Yes, that will do. Start from the far corner?" "No, from just up here where Joeboy arranged the stones. We can tie up to one of those big ones that you stand on to look over. You feel strong enough to slide down?--it isn't far." "Oh yes." "Then, once on the ground, we can crawl away. That's how I mean to go all along." "What about the tethering-ropes?" "We'll go and have a look at our horses towards evening, slip the coils over our shoulders, and bring them away. No one will interfere." "Val," he cried, "you ought to be a commissioned officer." "I don't want to be," I said, laughing. "I want the war to be over, and to be able to find my people, and settle down again in peace. This fighting goes against the grain with me." "But you always seem to like it, and fight like a fury when we're in for it." "I suppose it's my nature," I said; "but I don't like it any the better." We said no more, but waited anxiously in the hope that Joeboy would return, and waited in vain, the time gliding by, some hours being passed in sleep, till we were suddenly aroused by firing. There were two or three fits of excitement in the course of the afternoon, and a smart exchange of shots which at one time threatened to develop into a regular attempt to assault the fort; but it died out at last, direct attack of entrenchments not being in accord with the Boers' ideas of fighting. It is too dangerous for men who like to be safely in hiding and to bring down their enemies as if they were wild beasts of the veldt. No Joeboy appeared, and in the dusk of evening we went across the yard, had a good look at our horses, stopped patting and caressing them for some time, then went back to the hospital unquestioned and, I believe, unseen, with the coils of raw-hide rope. From that time everything seemed to me so delightfully easy that it prognosticated certain success. The doctor came at dusk and had a chat; then the Sergeant looked us up to tell us that he had seen nothing of Joeboy, but that the butcher told him he had missed some strips of beef hung up in the sun to make biltong, and that he believed the black had taken them. "Why?" I asked sharply. "Because he was so fond of eating; and he said the black would be found curled up amongst the stones somewhere in the kopje among the baboons, sleeping off his feed." "It isn't true," I said warmly. "Joeboy wouldn't steal unless he knew we were starving, and then it would be to bring it to his master and his master's friend." "That's what I like in you, Val," said Denham as soon as the Sergeant had left us. "You always stick up for a friend when any one attacks him behind his back." "Of course," I replied angrily. "Don't be cross, old man," he cried. "I didn't mean to insult you by calling a black fellow your friend." "That wouldn't insult me. Joeboy is a humble friend, who would give his life to save mine." "I wish he was with us, then, so as to make a present of it to somebody if we should be in very awkward quarters." "I can't understand it," I said; "but we mustn't worry about that now. What about arms?" "Revolvers under our jackets, out of sight, and a few cartridges in our pouches along with the cake and beef we saved." "No rifle, bandolier, or sword?" I said thoughtfully. "Neither one nor the other, my lad. We're going to get through the lines as sick men tired of it all, and whose fighting is done." "Perhaps to be taken as spies," I said. "Ugh! Don't talk about it," cried Denham. "We're invalids, and no one can doubt that who looks at your battered head." "Or yours," I replied. "But look here, Denham; we must give up all idea of capturing wagons. What we have to do is to fetch help." "Yes, I think so too--get through the Boer lines and find the General's quarters. The other idea was too mad." We sat in silence for a while, till we felt that the time had come; then we passed our coils of rope over our chests like bandoliers, and strolled out into the dark court, to saunter here and there for a few minutes, listening to the lowing of the oxen or the fidgety stamp of a horse annoyed by a fly. Here Denham exchanged a few words with some of the men. Finally, after a glance at the officers' quarters, from which a light gleamed dimly, Denham led the way to the rough ascent, and with beating heart I followed right up on to the wall. So intense was the darkness that we had to go carefully, not seeing the first sentry till he challenged us and brought us up. Denham gave the word, and stood talking to the man, who lowered his rifle and rested the butt on the stones. "How are they to-night?" said Denham. "Quiet?" "No, sir; they seem to have been having a good eat and drink. More wagons came up from their rear; so the man I relieved told me. It's been a sort of feast, I think. Wouldn't be a bad time for a good attack on the beggars, sir. The boys are, as one of them said, spoiling for a fight." "Let them wait a bit," said Denham shortly. "It will come." "The sooner the better, sir," said the sentry; and we went on as far as the next sentry, passing the stones where we had sat to sun ourselves. We talked with this second man about the Boers, received a similar account of the proceedings of the enemy, said "Good-night," and then strolled back to the stones, to sit down for a few minutes, my heart beating harder than ever. "Now," said Denham at last, in a low tone of voice; "off with your rope, and give me one end. I'll make your line fast to mine, while you secure the other end to that big stone. Tight, mind; I don't want to fall sixty feet and break my neck." "Nor I," was my reply. "Be sure of your knot, too." "Right." Then, in the silence, we each did our part of the task, ending by Denham letting the strong thin rope glide over the edge of the great stones which formed the breastwork. The next minute we stood listening to the sounds from the court, and narrowly watched for our sentries. Far out in the darkness a feeble light or two showed where a lantern burned in the Boer lines. Everything seemed to favour our design, even to the end, and I was breathing hard with excitement, waiting to begin. Just then a hand touched my arm and glided down over my wrist. I knew what it meant, and grasped Denham's hand. "Good luck to us!" he whispered. "I'll go first and test the rope-- hush! I will. As soon as I'm down I shall lie flat and hold on. Ready?" "Yes." "Off!" _ |
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