'Tween Snow and Fire: A Tale of the Last Kafir War
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CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
"ONWARD THEY PLY--IN DREADFUL RACE."
The Kafirs, with their spoil, had disappeared, and on the pursuersgaining the ridge, there seemed, as Hoste had suggested, a pretty goodchance of losing them altogether; for the mere depression of the grounddown which they were racing, narrowed and deepened into a long, windingvalley, thickly overgrown with mimosa bushes and tall grass. Themarauders could now be seen straining every nerve to gain this--withtheir booty, if possible--if not, without it. Every shouted summons tothem to stand or be shot seemed only to have the effect of causing themto redouble their efforts--winding in and out among the grass andthorn-bushes with the rapidity of serpents.
The pursuers were gaining. Rough and tangled as the ground now became,the speed of horses was bound to tell in the race. A few moments moreand the spoil would be theirs. Suddenly, but very quietly, Eustacesaid:
"I say, you fellows--don't look round, but--turn your horses' heads andride like the devil! _We are in a trap_!"
The amazed, the startled look that came upon the faces of those threewould have been entertaining in the extreme, but for the seriousness ofthe occasion. However, they were men accustomed to critical situations.Accordingly, they slackened, as directed, and suddenly headed roundtheir horses as if they had decided to abandon the pursuit.
Not a minute too soon had come Eustace's discovery and warning. Likethe passing movement of a sudden gust, the grass and bushes rustled andwaved, as a long line of ambushed savages sprang up on either side, andwith a wild and deafening yell charged forward upon the thoroughlydisconcerted and now sadly demoralised four.
The Kafirs had been lying hidden in horseshoe formation. Had ourfriends advanced a hundred yards further their doom would have beensealed. They would have been hemmed in completely. Happily, however,when Eustace uttered his warning, they had not quite got between theextremities of the "shoe."
As it stood, however, the situation was appalling to the last degree.Terrified to madness, the horses became almost unmanageable, rearing andplunging in a perfect frenzy, of fear, and it was all that their riderscould do to steer them through the bristling thorn-bushes, a singleplunge into one of which would, at the rate they were going, hurl bothsteed and rider to the earth. And, again, the wild war-cry pealedthrough the valley, and every bush and tussock of grass seemed to _grow_enemies--seemed to swarm with dark, sinuous forms, to blaze with thegleam of assegai blades and rolling eyeballs. The race for spoil hadbecome a race for life.
There had been barely a hundred yards between them and their assailantswhen the latter first sprang up, and this distance had alarminglydecreased, for the nature of the ground, rough and overgrown with long,tangled grass, and the fact that they were being forced up-hill, tendedto neutralise whatever advantage might lie with the mounted men.Moreover the horses, in no small degree blown after their recent spurt,were not at their best, whereas the Kafir warriors, active, hard asiron, had the advantage on that rough ground. On they pressed--theirlithe, sinuous, ochre-greased bodies flashing through the grass likeserpents--whooping, shouting, rending the air with their shrill,ear-splitting war-whistles. Although many of them had guns, yet not ashot was fired. Either those who led did not care to waste time instopping to aim, and those who were behind feared to injure theirfriends in front; or for some reason of their own they were anxious tocapture the white men alive. On it sped, that fearful race, thepursuers slowly but surely gaining. And now, from the swarming numbersof the main body, "horns" began to spread out at an angle to the line offlight as though to close up and intercept them further on, at somepoint best known to themselves.
It was a case of every man for himself. Hoste and Payne had gained someslight start, Eustace and Carhayes bringing up the rear. The latter,gripping his revolver, was in the act of delivering a shot into thethick of a mass of warriors who had raced up to within ten yards ofthem, when his horse stumbled. The animal had put its foot into anant-bear hole concealed in the long grass. Down it came, plungingheavily forward on its nose, and shooting its rider over its head.
A deafening roar of exultation went up from the pursuers as they flungthemselves upon Carhayes. Still, half-stunned as he was, the desperatepluck of the unfortunate man caused him to make an effort to rise. Onlyan effort though. As he rose to his knees he was beaten to the groundin a moment beneath the savage blows of the kerries of his assailants.
Eustace heard the crash of the fall, and turning his head, in spite ofthe deadly risk he ran in suffering his attention to wander from his owncourse even for a second, he took in the whole scene--the crowd ofwhooping, excited barbarians, clustering round the fallen man, assegaisand kerries waving in the air, then the dull, sickening sound of blows.And even in that moment of deadly peril, his own fate as hopeless asthat of the slain man, a thrill of fierce exultation shot through him.Fortune had once more played into his hands. Eanswyth was his. He hadgot his second chance. This time it was out of his power to throw itaway even had he wished to do so. Still--the mockery of it! It hadcome too late.
Meanwhile, Payne and Hoste, being the best mounted, had obtained somelittle start, but even upon them the extended lines of the fiercepursuers were beginning to close.
"Now, George--both together! Let 'em have it!" yelled Hoste, pointinghis revolver at the foremost of a mass of Kafirs who were charging inupon them on his side. The ball sped. The savage, a tall, sinewywarrior, naked as at his birth save for a collar of jackals' teeth and aleather belt round his waist, leaped high in the air and fell stonedead, shot through the heart. At the same time Payne's pistol spoke,and another barbarian fell, his knee shattered by the bullet. Crack!and down went another while in the act of poising his assegai for afling.
"Up-hill work, but nearly through!" cried Payne as he dropped another ofthe pursuers in his tracks. The frightened steeds, with ears thrownback and nostrils distended, tugged frantically at their bits as theytore along, but the agile barbarians seemed to keep pace with them,though they refrained from again attempting to close. But now theybegan to throw their assegais. One of these grazed Payne's shoulder andstuck fast in the ground in front, quivering nervously. Another scoredthe flank of Hoste's horse, causing the poor animal to snort and boundwith the sharp pain. Another stuck into Payne's boot, while a fourthhit Hoste fair between the shoulders, but having been hurled at longrange and being withal a somewhat blunt weapon, it failed to penetratethe stout cord jacket.
"Devilish good shot, that," remarked the target. "But I say, George,where are the other fellows?"
"Dunno! It's a case of every man for himself now, and all his work cutout at that."
All this had been the work of but a few minutes, and now the brow of thehill was reached. A furious and bitter curse burst from the pair.
For on the plain beneath, converging upon their line of flight in suchwise as to meet and utterly cut them off, extended two strong bodies ofthe enemy. These had circled round the hill, while the fugitives hadbeen forced to the top of it, and now they would join hands before thelatter could hope to pass through the rapidly closing circle.
"Through them, George. It's our only show!" cried Hoste. And with thereins gripped in his left hand and his revolver in his right, he satdown to his saddle for the last and final charge. It was a wildlyexciting moment--the issues, life or death.
The lines were rapidly closing in. With maddened yells and assegaisuplifted, the Kafir warriors were straining every effort to completethat fatal circle. A few yards more--twenty--ten! it was done. Theywere hemmed in.
But the headlong, dashing valour of the two men stood them well. Not amoment did they pause. With a wild shout Hoste put his horse straightat a huge barbarian who strove to stop him--knocking the savagesprawling, and through the opening thus breached the two horsemen shotlike an arrow from the bow, and having the advantage of a down-hillcourse they left the fierce and yelling crowd behind in a trice. Farfrom safe were they yet. A hole concealed in the gra
ss--a strainedsinew--a hundred unforeseen circumstances--and they would be at themercy of their merciless foes.
And now the latter began to open fire upon them, and the crackle of thevolley behind mingled with the ugly hum of missiles overhead and around.
"_Allamaghtaag_! My horse is hit!" exclaimed Payne, feeling the animalsquirm under him in a manner there was no mistaking.
"So?" was the concerned reply. "He's got to go, though, as long as youcan keep him on his legs. If we can't reach the river, or at any ratethe thick bush along it, we're done for."
They turned their heads. Though beyond the reach of their missiles now,they could see that the Kafirs had by no means relinquished the pursuit.On they came--a dense, dark mass streaming across the plain--steady ofcruel purpose--pertinacious as a pack of bloodhounds. Hoste's steed wasbeginning to show ominous signs of exhaustion, while that of hiscompanion, bleeding freely from a bullet hole in the flank, was liableto drop at any moment. And the welcome bush was still a great way off--so, too, was the hour of darkness.
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Meanwhile Eustace, spurring for dear life, realised to the bitter fullthat the terrible event which, in spite of himself, he had so ardentlydesired, could be of no benefit to him now. For he knew that he wasdoomed. Nothing short of a miracle could save his life--which is tosay, nothing could. The very earth seemed to grow enemies. Behind,around, in front, everywhere, those cat-like, sinuous forms sprang up asif by magic. Suddenly his bridle was seized. A mass of warriorspressed around him, assegais raised. Quick as thought he pointed hisrevolver at the foremost, and pressed the trigger; but the plunging ofhis horse nearly unseated him, and the ball whistled harmlessly over theKafir's shoulder. At the same time a blow on the wrist knocked theweapon from his grasp. He saw the gleam of assegai points, the deadlyglare of hatred in the sea of rolling eyes closing in upon him. Then atall warrior, springing like a leopard, struck full at his heart with alarge, broad-bladed assegai.
It was done like lightning. The flash of the broad blade was in hiseyes. The blow, delivered with all the strength of a powerful, musculararm, descended. A hard, numbing knock on the chest, a sharp, crashingpain in the head--Eustace swayed in his saddle, and toppled heavily tothe earth. And again the fierce death-shout pealed forth over the wild_veldt_, and was taken up and echoed in tones of hellish exultation fromend to end of the excited barbarian host.
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The night has melted into dawn; the dawn into sunrise. The first raysare just beginning to gild the tops of the great krantzes overhangingthe Hashi. At the foot of one of these krantzes lies the motionlessfigure of a man. Dead? No, asleep. Slumbering as if he would neverwake again.
There is a faint rustle in the thick bush which grows right up to thefoot of the krantz--a rustle as of something or somebody forcing a waythrough--cautiously, stealthily approaching the sleeper. The lattersnores on.
The bushes part, and a man steps forth. For a moment he stands,noiselessly contemplating the prostrate figure. Then he emits a low,sardonic chuckle.
At the sound the sleeper springs up. In a twinkling he draws hisrevolver, then rubs his eyes, and bursts into a laugh.
"Don't make such a row, man," warns the new arrival. "The bush may befull of niggers now, hunting for us. We are in a nice sort of a hole,whichever way you look at it."
"Oh, we'll get out of it somehow," is Hoste's sanguine reply. "When wegot separated last night, I didn't know whether we should ever see eachother again, George. I suppose there's no chance for the other twofellows?"
"Not a shadow of a chance. Both wiped out."
"H'm! Poor chaps," says Hoste seriously. "As for ourselves, here weare, stranded without even a horse between us; right at the wrong end ofthe country; hostile niggers all over the shop, and all our fellows gonehome. Bright look out, isn't it!"
"We are two fools," answers Payne sententiously.