'Tween Snow and Fire: A Tale of the Last Kafir War

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'Tween Snow and Fire: A Tale of the Last Kafir War Page 19

by Bertram Mitford


  CHAPTER NINETEEN.

  THE LAST CARTRIDGE.

  This is what they saw.

  Over the brow of the high ridge, about a mile in their rear, a dark masswas advancing. It was like a disturbed ants' nest--on they came, thosedark forms, swarming over the hill--and the sun glinted on assegaiblades and gun-barrels as the savage host poured down the steep slope,glancing from bush to bush, rapidly and in silence.

  "I'm afraid we shall have to give up the cattle, lads, and fight our wayout," said Shelton, as he took in the full strength of the advancingKafirs. "Those chaps mean business, and there are too many of them andtoo few of us."

  "We'll make it hot for 'em, all the same," said Carhayes, with a scowl."I have just put two more nicks on my gun-stock--not sure I oughtn't tohave had four or five, but am only certain of two--Hallo! That's near."

  It was. A bullet had swept his hat off, whirling it away a dozen yards.At the same time puffs of smoke began to issue from the hillside, andthe twigs of the bushes beyond were sadly cut about as the enemy'smissiles hummed overhead--but always overhead--pretty thickly. Atfirst, the said enemy was rather chary of showing himself, although theycould see groups of red figures flitting from bush to bush, and thewhigge of bullets and potlegs became more and more unpleasantly near,while from the slope above jets of smoke and flame kept bursting forthat all points.

  The plan of the whites was to make a running fight of it. Whileone-half of the patrol drove on the cattle, the other half was to fighton foot, covering their comrades' retreat, but always keeping nearenough to close up, if necessary.

  "Now, boys--let 'em have it!" cried Shelton, as a strong body of theenemy made a sudden rush upon their left flank to draw their attention,while another party, with a chorus of shouts and deafening whistles, andwaving their assegais and karosses, darted in between the cattle andtheir captors, with the object of separating and driving off the former.

  A volley was discharged--with deadly effect, as testified by the numberwho fell, wounded, maimed, or stone dead. The rest rushed on, glidingin among the fleeing cattle--whistling and yelling in a frenzy ofexcitement.

  "Keep cool, boys, and fire low," cried Carhayes--who was in command ofthe dismounted party--as a crowd of Kafirs suddenly started up on theirrear, and, with assegais uplifted, threatened a determined charge."Now!"

  Again there was a roar, as the whole fire was poured into the advancingmass. Even the horses, steady, trained steeds as they were, began toshow restiveness, terrified by the continuous crash of firing and thefierce yells of the savages. Then, without pausing to reload, every mandischarged his revolver into the very thick of the leaping,ochre-smeared warriors. It was too much. The latter wavered, thendropped into cover.

  But the respite was only a temporary one. Changing his tactics, thefierce foe no longer attempted an open _coup de main_, but takingadvantage of the bush he pressed the handful of whites who formed therear guard so hotly as to force them to close up on their comrades, inorder to avoid being entirely surrounded and cut off from the latter.But however bad had been their marksmanship earlier in the day, whileexcited and practising at the two fleeing Kafirs at long range, ourfrontiersmen were now in a different vein. There was nothing wild abouttheir shooting now. Steady of eye, and cool of brain, they were keenlyalive to every opportunity. Directly a Kafir showed his head he wasmorally certain to receive a ball through it, or so uncomfortably closeas to make him feel as if he had escaped by a miracle, and think twiceabout exposing himself a second time.

  Meanwhile the cattle were being driven off by the enemy, and indeedmatters had become so serious as to render this a mere secondaryconsideration. From the bush on three sides a continuous fire was keptup, and had the Kafirs been even moderately decent shots not a man ofthat patrol would have lived to tell the tale; but partly through fearof exposing themselves, partly through fear of their own fire-arms, tothe use of which they were completely unaccustomed, the savages madesuch wild shooting that their missiles flew high overhead. Now andthen, however, a shot would take effect. One man received a bullet inthe shoulder, another had his bridle hand shattered. Several of thehorses were badly wounded, but, as yet, there were no fatalities. Theenemy, confident in the strength of his overwhelming numbers, waxedbolder--crowding in closer and closer. Every bush was alive with Kafirwarriors, who kept starting up when and where least expected in a mannerthat would have been highly disconcerting to any but cool and determinedmen.

  But this is just what these were. All hope of saving the spoil had beenabandoned. The frontiersmen, dismounted now, were fighting the savagesin their own way, from bush to bush.

  "This is getting rather too hot," muttered Shelton, with an ominousshake of the head. "We shall be hemmed in directly. Our best chancewould be for someone to break through and ride to the camp for help."Yet he hesitated to despatch anyone upon so dangerous a service.

  Just then several assegais came whizzing in among them. Two horses weretransfixed, and Hoste received a slight wound in the leg.

  "Damn!" he cried furiously, stamping with pain, while a roar of laughterwent up from his fellows, "Let me catch a squint at John Kafir's sootymug! Ah!"

  His piece flew to his shoulder--then it cracked. He had just glimpsed awoolly head, decked with a strip of jackal's skin, peering from behind abush not twenty yards away, and whose owner, doubtless, attracted by thelaughter of those devil-may-care whites, had put it forward to see whatthe fun was about. A kicking, struggling sound, mingled with stifledgroans, seemed to show that the shot had been effective.

  "Downed him! Hooray!" yelled Hoste, still squirming under the smart ofthe assegai prick in his calf. "Charge of _loepers_ that time--musthave knocked daylight through him!"

  Taking advantage of this diversion, a tall, gaunt Kafir, risingnoiselessly amid a mass of tangled creepers, was deliberately aiming atsomebody. So silent had been his movements, so occupied were the otherwhites, that he was entirely unperceived. His eye went down to thebreech. He seemed to require a long and careful aim.

  But just then he was perceived by one, and instinctively Eustace broughthis piece to bear. But he did not fire. For like a flash he noted thatthe savage was aiming _full at Carhayes' back_.

  The latter, sublimely unconscious of his deadly peril, was keenly alerton the look out for an enemy in the other direction. Eustace felt hisheart going like a hammer, and he turned white and cold. There in thewild bush, surrounded by ruthless enemies, the sweet face of Eanswythpassed before him, amid the smoke of powder and the crash of volleys.She was his now--his at last. The life which had stood between them nowstood no more.

  With a frightful fascination, he crouched motionless. Carhayes wasstill unconscious of his imminent peril--his broad back turned full tothe deadly tube of the savage. The distance was barely fifteen yards.The latter could not miss.

  It all passed like lightning--the awful, the scathing temptation. Hecould not do it. And with the thought, his finger pressed ever solightly on the trigger, and the Kafir crashed heavily backward, shotthrough the brain--while the ball from his gun, which, with a supremeeffort he had discharged in his death throes, hummed perilously near hisintended victim's head.

  "Hallo, Milne! You got in that shot just right," cried one of the men,who had turned in time to take in the situation--not the whole of it,luckily.

  Eustace said nothing. His better nature had triumphed. Still, as heslipped a fresh cartridge into his smoking piece, there was a feeling ofdesolation upon him, as though the intoxicating sense of possessing thewhole world had been within his grasp, and as suddenly reft from itagain. The extremely critical position in which he--in which the wholeparty--stood, passed unheeded. "Fool!" whispered the tempting, gibingfiend. "You had your opportunity and you threw it away. You will neverhave it again. She is lost to you forever now. Never can you hope topossess her!"

  And now the firing opened from an unexpected quarter--and behold, thebushy slope in front was alive with Kafir
warriors. The patrol wasentirely surrounded, and now the savages began to shout exultantly toeach other.

  "We have got the white men in a hole," they cried. "Ha! They cannotget out. Look, the sun is shining very bright, but it will be dark forthe white men long before it touches the hill. They are caught likewolves in a trap. _Hau_!"

  "Ho-ho! Are they!" sung out Carhayes, in reply to this taunt. "When awolf is caught in a trap, the dogs cannot kill him without feeling histeeth. The Amaxosa dogs have caught not a wolf, but a lion. Here isone of his bites." And quick as lightning he brought up his rifle andpicked off a tall Gcaleka, who was flitting from one bush to another acouple of hundred yards above. The Kafir lurched heavily forward,convulsively clutching the earth with both hands. A yell of rage arosefrom the savages and a perfect hail of bullets and assegais camewhistling around the whites--fortunately still overhead.

  "Aha!" roared Carhayes with a shout of reckless laughter. "Now does anyother dog want to feel the lion's bite? Ha, ha! I am he whom thepeople call Umlilwane. `The Little Fire' can burn. He it was whohelped to burn the kraal of Sarili, the Great Chief of the House ofGcaleka. He it is who has `burned' the life out of many dogs of therace of Xosa. He will burn out the lives of many more! Ha, ha--dogs--black scum! Come forth! Try who can stand before The Little Fire andnot be burned up--utterly consumed away! Come forth, dogs, come forth!"

  Catching their comrade's dare-devil spirit, the men laughed and cheeredwildly. But the Kafirs, full of hate and rage, forgot their prudence.A great mass of them leaped from their cover, and shrilling their wildwar-whistles, snapped their assegais off short, and bore down upon thehandful of whites in full impetuous charge.

  Critical as the moment was, the latter were prepared never moredangerously cool than now when it was almost a case of selling theirlives dearly. They instantly gave way, melting into cover with theserpent-like celerity of the savages themselves, and before these couldso much as swerve, they poured such a deadly cross-fire upon the compactonrushing mass that in a second the ground was strewn with a groaning,writhing heap of humanity.

  With a roar like a wild beast, Carhayes sprang from his cover and,wrenching a heavy knob-kerrie from the hand of a dead Kafir, dashedamong the fallen and struggling foe, striking to right and left,braining all those who showed the slightest sign of resistance or evenof life. A Berserk ferocity seemed to have seized the man. His hairand beard fairly bristled, his eyes glared, as he stood erect, whirlingthe heavy club, spattered and shiny with blood and brains. He roaredagain:

  "Ho, dogs! Come and stand before the lion! Come, feel his bite--whodares? Ha, ha!" he laughed, bringing the kerrie down with a sickeningcrash upon the head of a prostrate warrior whom he had detected in theact of making a last desperate stab at him with an assegai--shatteringthe skull to atoms. "Come, stand before me, cowards. Come, and beground to atoms."

  But to this challenge no answer was returned. There was a strangesilence among the enemy. What did it portend? That he was about tothrow up the game and withdraw? No such luck. His strength was toogreat, and he was burning with vengeful rage at the loss of so many men.It could only mean that he was planning some new and desperate move.

  "I say, Milne, lend us a few cartridges; I've shot away all mine."

  Eustace, without a word, handed half a dozen to the speaker. Thelatter, a fine young fellow of twenty-one, was enjoying his firstexperience in the noble game of war. He had been blazing awaythroughout the day as though conscious of the presence of a waggon-loadof ammunition in the patrol.

  "Thanks awfully--Ah-h!"

  The last ejaculation escaped him in a kind of shuddering sigh. Hisfeatures grew livid, and the cartridges which he had just graspeddropped from his grasp as he sank to the ground with scarcely astruggle. A Kafir had crawled up behind him, and had stabbed himbetween the shoulders with a broad-bladed assegai--right through to theheart. A deep vengeful curse went up from his comrades, and they lookedwildly around for an object on which to exact retribution. In vain.The wily foe was not going to show himself.

  But the incident threw a new light upon the state of affairs, and a verylurid one it was. Several had run out of ammunition, but had refrainedfrom saying so lest the fact, becoming known, should discourage theothers. Now it was of no use disguising matters further. There werebarely fifty rounds left among the whole patrol--that is to say,something less than a round and a half per man. And they were stillhemmed in by hundreds of the enemy, closely hemmed in, too, as therecent fatality proved, and it still wanted a good many hours till dark.Small wonder that a very gloomy expression rested upon almost everycountenance. The position was almost as bad as it could possibly be.

 

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