A Dash from Diamond City

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

  A DESPATCH-RIDER'S WORK.

  "Hurrah!" cried West, as soon as they were once more well out in theopen, their horses breathed, and ready to answer to any demand made uponthem by their riders. "Keep abreast, and open out more. Faster!faster! We have only a short start this time."

  "But we'll make the best of it," cried Ingleborough, between his teeth."Bend down well! The firing has begun!"

  "It is speaking for itself," said West grimly, as the buzzing whirr ofthe bullets began again, while faintly heard there came, half smotheredby the thudding of their own horses' hoofs, the clattering of Boermounts being led out over the stones of the ravine in which they hadbeen hid.

  "See any more of the old party?" cried West, as they rode well out nowon to the level.

  "No; we've turned off so much that they are quite in our rear."

  "Then the way's clear for the river?"

  "If we can reach it, lad," said Ingleborough; "and if we do it may be inflood, or impassable where we hit it."

  "Or a hundred other things," cried West angrily, as they tore along atfull gallop now, with the bullets flying round them.

  "Don't begin to prophesy evil! I say we're going to leave the Boers farbehind and escape."

  "I can't look at our chance in the same flowery light as you do, myboy," replied Ingleborough. "My breakfast wasn't good enough to inspireme with so much hope, and I should advise you to open your haversack."

  "Nonsense! I could not eat now!"

  "But you must be ready to if you don't begin, my lad. My advice is thatyou get ready to eat those sandwiches, for you mustn't let the goodverbal meat inside get into the enemy's hands."

  Ingleborough had hardly spoken before his horse suddenly checked,throwing him forward upon its neck and nearly sending him off. But heclung to it desperately, while the poor beast's next act was to rear up,pawing hard at the air. In spite of the difficulty, Ingleboroughshuffled himself back into the saddle, speaking encouraging words to theshivering animal, which kept on pawing at the air for a few moments andjust gave its rider time to throw himself off sidewise before it wentright over backwards, struck out with all four legs in the air, and thensubsided--motionless.

  West drew rein instantly as he tore by, and cantered back, reckless ofthe whistling bullets which were flying around.

  "Beg their pardon!" cried Ingleborough, struggling to his feet after aheavy fall. "I retract my words."

  "Hurt?" cried West excitedly.

  "Rather! Ground is pretty hard!"

  "Here," cried West, leaping off; "jump into my saddle, and I'll hold onby the mane and run."

  "Nonsense! Absurd! Don't be a fool!" cried Ingleborough angrily. "Thegame's up for me! Jump up and gallop again! Don't let the brutes takeyou too."

  "Likely!" said West, taking out his handkerchief and beginning to foldit bandage fashion. "Your head's bleeding. Let me tie this round."

  "Let it bleed!" cried Ingleborough angrily, and picking up his soft felthat, which had fallen in the dust, he stuck it on tightly. "That'sbandaged!" he said. "Now then, be off before it's too late."

  "Of course; that's just what you would have done!" said West quietly.

  "Never mind what I would have done," cried Ingleborough angrily. "Ridefor your life!"

  "Do you take me for a Dutchman?" said West coolly.

  "Oh, you fool--you fool!" cried Ingleborough, stamping his foot angrily."You'll be too late! No, they're dismounting. Now then, up with youand make a dash."

  West gave a glance to right and left, to see that some twenty of theenemy had leaped from their horses and were advancing, while twice asmany more, who covered them with their rifles, came slowly on, shoutingto him the Dutch for "Hands up!"

  The position was perilous, though the chances were even still aboutbeing taken or riding clear if he went at full gallop; but West did notstir.

  "No, thankye, old fellow," he said. "It would be such dull work ridingalone. What do you say to taking cover amongst the bushes?"

  "Bah! Cover for the front, and none for flank or rear!"

  "We could squat down back to back," said West coolly, "and shoot a fewof them first. I want to fight the brutes with their own weapons."

  "Once more, will you make a bolt of it?" cried Ingleborough faintly.

  "No--I--will--not!" said West slowly and distinctly, and then, making adash, he caught his comrade round the waist, letting him sink gentlydown upon the sand and stones, for his legs had given way and his faceturned ghastly.

  "Thanks, old man," said Ingleborough, with a feeble smile and his eyeslooking his gratitude.

  He lay still now, with his countenance seeming to grow fixed and hard;but West opened his water-flask and poured a few drops between the poorfellow's lips, when he began to revive at once, and lay perfectly stillwhile his comrade removed his hat and proceeded to bind the ready-foldedhandkerchief tightly about the bleeding wound, caused by sharp contactwith a stone when he fell.

  "West," groaned Ingleborough, recovering now a little, "once more, lad,think, think; never mind me! Mount; never mind the firing; ride foryour life!"

  "Once more, old fellow," said West, through his teeth, "I won't leaveyou in the lurch!"

  "But the despatches, lad. I am only one, and they are to save athousand."

  "Ah!" cried West, springing to his feet as if the object of his journeyhad been driven out of his head by the excitement of the moment, and hetook a step towards his horse, just as, to his intense surprise,Ingleborough's mount suddenly threw up its muzzle, made a plunge, andfound its feet, shook itself violently, and whinnied, as if it had justrecovered from being stunned.

  "Here, make one effort," cried West, seizing the steed's bridle andleading it to where its rider lay.

  "Look--your pony's all right again! Can you mount?"

  "No," said Ingleborough faintly, as he made an effort to struggle to hisknees, but only fell back with a groan. "Can't! Feel as if my neck'sbroken and my shoulder numbed. Now will you make a dash while you can?"

  West hesitated, and duty mastered friendship and humane feeling for hiscompanion. He was but one, and the despatch might deal with the livesof a thousand men in peril of their lives.

  "Yes, I must go!" he groaned, making for his horse; but he was too late.

  For though the Boers, apparently from a feeling that they were quitesure of their prey, had advanced slowly and cautiously, each man withhis rifle presented and finger on trigger, their movements showed plentyof cunning. They had opened out so as to get round the horses, watchingthe young man's actions all the time, and when he at last made for hismount they were close up, and rifle-barrels bristled around, everymuzzle threatening and grim.

  "Throw up your hands!" came in chorus from a score of throats, anddirectly after the same order was given in fair English by two of theragged, unkempt, big-bearded enemy.

  West looked fiercely round like a hunted animal brought to bay by thehounds, waiting to seize the first one that sprang, and ground his teethwith rage; but he paid no heed to the men's words.

  "Throw up your hands!" roared one of the men.

  "Throw up your own!" said West defiantly, and then to his bitterannoyance he started on one side, for there was a flash, simultaneouslya whizz close to his face, and instantly the sharp report of a rifle.

  Recovering from the sudden shock to his nerves caused by his previousunbelief that the enemy would be so cowardly as to fire upon a perfectlyhelpless prisoner, West swung himself round to face the man who hadfired at him from such close quarters that the flash of the powder hadscorched his cheek.

  The Boer was busily thrusting a fresh cartridge into the breech of hispiece, and as he met the young man's eyes he burst out into a coarse andbrutal laugh.

  "Throw up your hands, then, you cursed rooinek!" he cried, "or I'll blowout your brains!"

  "Not if I die for it!" cried West. "You cowardly cur!" And turning asthe Boers closed him in, he continued, with b
itter contempt, andspeaking in their own tongue: "I suppose you are a specimen of the bravepeasant farmers making a struggle for their liberty!"

  "You keep a civil tongue in your head, young man," growled out one ofthe party in English, "unless you want to feed the crows!"

  "You keep your cowardly gang in order first before you dictate to me!"cried West, turning upon the speaker sharply. "Do you call it manly tofire at close quarters upon a party of two?"

  "No!" said the man shortly, as he turned round and said a few angrywords in the Boer jargon--words which were received by some with angrygrowls, while the major portion remained silent and sullen.

  "You're not our cornet! Mind your own business, before you're hurt!"cried the man who had fired, taking a few steps towards the spot whereWest stood, and, seizing him savagely by the throat, he tried to forcehim to his knees.

  But he tried only with one hand--his left--his right being engaged byhis rifle, and to his utter astonishment the prisoner retorted bykicking his legs from under him and flinging him upon his back.

  A yell of anger arose from some, and of delight from others, all lookingon while the discomfited Boer sprang up with a cry of rage, cocked hisrifle, and, taking quick aim, would have fired point-blank at theprisoner had not his act been anticipated by the Boer who had beforespoken. Quick as thought he sprang upon his companion, striking thepresented rifle upwards with a blow from his own, and then grasping theinfuriated man by the collar.

  "None of that!" he cried fiercely in Dutch. "Cornet or no cornet, I'mnot going to stand by and see a cowardly murder done! We've got tofight, brother burghers, but we'll fight like soldiers and men. Ourname's been stained enough by what has been done already."

  "Here, you'd better go and fight for the rooineks," cried thediscomfited Boer fiercely.

  "I'm going to fight for my home and country, brothers," cried West'sdefender, "the same as you are: not help to murder a helpless boy whohas behaved like a brave man."

  The portion of the force who had seemed disposed to side against thespeaker were disarmed by his words, and there was a general cheer atthis, while the cause of the trouble growled out: "You're a traitor toyour country, and the commandant shall hear of this."

  "No, no, no, no!" came in chorus. "Serves you right."

  West made no resistance now, as his defender signed to him to give uphis rifle, which, plus the bandolier, was handed over with a sigh,Ingleborough's having already been taken away.

  The next thing done was to search the prisoners' pockets--watch, purse,and pocket-book being taken away, but the inner belts containing thegreater part of their money were entirely overlooked, while West stoodbreathing hard, his face wrinkled up and an agonising pain contractinghis heart, for the Boer who had defended him unbuttoned the flap of hishaversack, thrust in his hand, and brought out a couple of cake loaves,and then, one after the other, two carefully wrapped-up sandwiches,standing for a few moments with them in his hand, hesitating, whileIngleborough, who had recovered his senses, darted a meaning look at hissuffering companion.

  "It's all over with our expedition!" he said to himself. "Why didn'tpoor Noll eat his sandwiches?"

  The moments were as agonising to him as to West, who could only stand insilence; but, having become somewhat versed in the tricks of those whofought the law through his friendship with Norton, an idea crossed hismind, and turning in a faint appealing way to the Boer who seemed to beholding in suspense the scales of success and failure, he said: "Don'ttake our bit of provisions away! We're prisoners; isn't that enough?"

  The Boer fixed him with his eyes, noted his pallid face and the bloodtrickling down from the cut caused by his fall, and then, as ifsatisfied and moved by a feeling akin to compassion, he nodded his head,thrust the cake and the sandwich-like papers back into West's haversack,and let it swing again under the young man's arm.

  "Lucky for them we're not hungry!" he said, in his own tongue, "or weshouldn't have left them much."

  "Why don't you make them eat it?" cried the man who had fired. "Foraught we know, it may be poisoned."

  "Bah!" cried their friend, who had done the pair so good a turn; "letthem be!"

  A couple of the Boers then approached with reins, but, in spite of theopposition that had taken place, the man who had taken West's part againinterfered, just as they proceeded to raise Ingleborough to bind hishands behind his back.

  "There is no need!" said the man sharply. "Can't you see that he is tooweak to stand? Help him upon his horse, and one go on either side tokeep him in the saddle."

  Then turning to West, he continued: "Mount; but you will be shot downdirectly if you attempt to escape."

  "I am not going to leave my friend," said West coldly. "I could havegalloped away had I wanted to. Let me walk by his side to help him."

  The man looked at the speaker searchingly and then nodded, West takingthe place of one of the Boers, who placed himself just behind him withrifle ready. Then the little party moved off towards the kopje wherethe prisoners had been surprised.

  "How are you?" asked West, as soon as they were in motion.

  "I feel as if I were somewhere else!" was the half-laughing, half-bitterreply. "All use seems to have been completely knocked out of me, andthe hills and kopjes go sailing round and round."

  "That will soon pass off," said West, and then after a short pause:"Well, we're prisoners after all. It does seem hard now we have got sofar! I wonder where they'll send us?"

  "It does not much matter!" said Ingleborough. "Anywhere will do, if Ican lie down and rest till this dreadful swimming and confusion passesoff. As soon as it does we'll escape--to eat the sandwiches," he addedmeaningly.

  "If we can," said West; "but don't talk about them again! Oh, Ingle, Iwish I had your sharp wits."

  "Pooh! Where there's a will there's a way," said Ingleborough faintly."You might have escaped, but as you insisted upon being taken to sharemy lot I was obliged to do something, and now I must do nothing butthink of how to get away."

  The effort of talking was evidently too much for the poor fellow, andWest confined himself to keeping him upright in the saddle, from whichhe would certainly have fallen but for his comrade's willing arm.

  West was so fully occupied by his task, the two Boers offering not theslightest aid, that he paid no heed to the fact that their captors ledthem right round to the far side of the kopje, and then through a narrowgap of the rocks into a natural amphitheatre, wherein there was ampleroom for the formation of a great laager, the wagons being arranged inan irregular ellipse, thoroughly hidden from the veldt outside, whilethe rocks of the kopje roughly formed a rampart of vast strength, andapparently quite impregnable.

  West took in all he could as he and his companion in misfortune were ledthrough and within the barricade of wagons to where the horses andcattle were securely tethered, while a burst of cheering saluted thereturning party as soon as it was seen that they had prisoners and acouple of likely-looking mounts. It was a surprise, for no onejourneying across the veldt could for a moment have supposed that sosecure a natural stronghold existed behind the rocky barriers.

  The next minute the prisoners saw their sturdy ponies tied up to thetail of one of the great wagons, so near that West began to wonderwhether when darkness came it would be possible to creep to their side,cut them free, mount, and make a old dash for liberty.

  But a glance at Ingleborough showed him that this would be impossible,for the poor fellow had sunk over sidewise as soon as he had been liftedout of the saddle, and lay perfectly inert and with his eyeshalf-closed. West knelt down by him and, taking his slung water-bottle,he raised his injured companion's head a little and began to trickle, afew drops at a time, a little water between the sufferer's lips.

  He was occupied in this way when he noted that a large group of theBoers had approached, one of whom, a short sturdy-looking individual,with swarthy skin and thick black beard plentifully sprinkled with grey,suddenly said, in good English: "What is the matter
with him--shot?"

  "No," replied West. "His horse was struck, and reared up, and my friendwas thrown heavily upon his head."

  "Oh, is that all?" said the Boer nonchalantly. "Let him sleep it off!But listen, you: we shoot prisoners who try to escape."

  "I shall not try to escape and leave him," said West coldly.

  The Boer commandant, for such he proved to be, gave him a keen look andthen turned away to speak to one of the men, the result of the orders hegave being that Ingleborough was carried to one of the wagons formingthe laager, and West ordered to follow and wait upon his friend, who,after his injury had been carefully bathed and bandaged, sank into aswoon-like sleep, leaving West to sit thinking of their position andpondering upon the fact that the two Basuto ponies were tethered insight of where he sat, and that he still had the treasured-up despatchessafe.

  His great trouble now seemed to be whether he should conceal the papersabout his person or leave them in the haversack carelessly hung from theside of the wagon-tilt, lest he should be searched again and with a moreserious result than the loss of watch and purse.

  Night came at last, with the difficulty still unsolved, and a yet moreserious one to keep him awake.

  It was this: Ought he to wait till well on in the night, and then creepout by the sentry on duty outside, get to one of the ponies, and try andsteal away?

  And the time glided on, with the question still unanswered. There wasthe horse, and there was the despatch; but there were also the Boers bythe hundred, hemming him completely in, and, even if he were disposed toleave Ingleborough to his fate, any attempt seemed to be mad to adegree.