Forging the Blades: A Tale of the Zulu Rebellion

by Bertram Mitford

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

  OF THE BUSH ROAD.

  An advance guard of twenty men was thrown forward; Ben Halse's trap andthat containing the other storekeeper's family being in the middle ofthe main body, which was ready to close up around both at a moment'swarning. Scouts were thrown out, but there were places in which thethick bush rendered the services of such entirely useless.

  The prospectors especially were inclined to treat the whole thing as apicnic; indeed, there was hardly a man there present who was notspoiling for a fight--and would have been intensely disappointed if nosuch were put up. The women and children were certainly a drawback;stray bullets have an uncomfortable knack of splattering in anywhere.That the escort might be overwhelmed by weight of numbers and utterlywiped out never occurred to them. Nearly a hundred police in fullfighting kit, and the dozen or so of extra rifles, ought to be able tohold their own against all Zululand. Isandhlwana? Oh yes; but that wasout of date; out-of-date weapons and out-of-date men. With quick-firingrifles, and an abundance of ammunition, they could hold out for everagainst a mob of ricksha pullers and kitchen boys, for such were thesorry substitutes for the old-time splendid legionaries of the lastking. The civilian element, in view of its victory that morning, wasinclined to treat the whole situation as a joke.

  Denham, however, formed an exception to this spirit, so, too, did BenHalse, for the same reason. Inspector Bray, an experienced officer, whowas in command of the Force, felt not a little anxious; he would nothave felt anything of the kind but for his charges; and there was a verycritical bit of the road just beyond the Gilwana drift--several miles ofthickly bushed country. If they were attacked at all it would be there,he prophesied to Denham, who was riding beside him.

  It was a lovely afternoon, the air brisk, fresh and crisp, the skycloudless. The scattered thorn-bushes were alive with bird voices, butthat dark hang of forest on the rugged hills, now on the right hand, nowon the left, there it was that the element of menace lay.

  "It's the devil," he said, "to have women to look after. I beg yourpardon, Denham, but I'm talking generally. You see, any tumble-downshanty of a brick building will stop a bullet, but nothing will here.You can make 'em lie down in the bottom of a trap, for instance, butthat's not bullet-proof. And I think I see Miss Halse, for instance,consenting to do anything of the kind."

  "I'd be sorry for the chump, black or white, she had got the sights of arifle on," he answered, with a thrill of pride. "She's just a deadshot."

  "So I've heard," said Bray, with a twinkle in his eyes. "You must havehad a good time together all this while. Good sport--and all that?"

  "No, you don't draw me, Bray. I'm a collector, and I never heard thatbirds and snakes were `royal' game."

  "Rather hard to keep one's piece from going off--by accident, ofcourse--when a waterbuck or something _strays_ across the road, eh?"

  But this chaff was interrupted by a trooper, who had ridden back fromthe advance guard, and the intelligence he brought caused his superiorto swear. The river was down, and the passage of the Gilwana driftwould be impossible for at least a couple of hours.

  "That's that infernal thunder burst up in the hills early this morning,"declared Bray. Then he gave orders to off-saddle where they were, for,of course, he had originally intended to do so on the further side.However, it was open here, at any rate, and they might still be able topush through the thickest and most dangerous part before dark.

  "This is a real old picnic now, Miss Halse," pronounced Sub-InspectorDering, as he helped to unpack from the spider the requisite thingswhich had been brought along for lunch. "Lord, what a nuisance thosekids are!" he added in an undertone. "Always howling."

  For Minton's small family was uttering shrilling expostulation at thedelayed meal. The while vedettes were posted, and the police, split upinto groups, were discussing their rations. The officers and thecivilian element were making a picnic together, and as such it seemed,but the stacked rifles and full bandoliers told a different tale.

  "What d'you think, Halse?" said Inspector Bray, as the two talked apartwhile the others were laughing and joking and making merry as they laidout the things. "Shall we slip through, or shall we get a chance atSapazani?"

  "Can't say. You see, I've been cut off from communication ever since Ileft home. But I should say the chances are about even. One thing youmay rely upon, we have been watched every inch of the way."

  "Sure?"

  "Dead cert. However, let's fall-to, at any rate. We'll be ready forthem if they do come, and we can't do more."

  The picnic proceeded merrily enough. Sub-Inspector Dering attachedhimself very attentively to Verna. He was aware of her engagement, buthe was an Irishman, and therefore bound to attach himself to thebest-looking woman present. Harry Stride was rather silent, hardlytalking with the other prospectors, among whom he had chosen to keephimself. But when the after-lunch pipes came out, Bray, with an escortof a dozen men, started off to examine the drift for himself, and withhim went Denham.

  It was barely two miles off. The river, not a wide one, swirled betweenhigh, clayey banks fringed with dense bush. If attacked at the point ofcrossing the matter might be serious.

  He was relieved. The high-water mark of the flood had left a broad, wetstripe between it and the surface. The stream was subsiding rapidly.

  "In half-an-hour we shall be able to take it," he said. "Hallo! Don'tsee anything, Denham?"

  "Yes," said the latter, with his glasses to his eyes. "It looks likecattle. Yes, it is; black and white ones. But they are not beingdriven; they seem to be grazing."

  Away on the hill, some seven hundred yards beyond the river, where thebush thinned out into rocks and open ground, white specks were visibleto the naked eye.

  "It's a signal, I believe," said Bray. "Well, we'll take the drift now,at any rate. If we are to have a fight here, I prefer it by daylight."And he ordered a trooper to gallop back to the camp with instructions tosaddle up and inspan immediately.

  In a surprisingly short space of time the troop was ready to march. Buta delay occurred through Minton's rotten harness, which kept giving wayin all sorts of unexpected directions. Inspector Bray cursed hideouslyto himself; but for the presence of the women he might have earnedheartfelt admiration from his troop at large by reason of his proficientoriginality in that direction. Willing hands, and handy ones, therewere and plenty, but by the time the damage was repaired quite aconsiderable portion of precious time had been wasted.

  Again at the drift more delay. The storekeeper's wretched horses stuck.All the flogging in the world was of no use; and there was the trap inthe middle of the stream, the water flowing through the bottom boardssoaking everything, and the woman and children howling dismally. Had anattack been delivered then the result might have been disastrous. ButBen Halse outspanned his pair and hitched them on, and by this aid, andmuch shouting and flogging, the whole outfit emerged, panting anddripping on the opposite bank. By then a great deal more valuable timehad been lost. And it was nearly sundown, and about seven miles of themost dangerous and bushy part of the road had to be negotiated.

  The early afternoon was drawing in, and there is little or no twilightin those latitudes. They had covered about three miles from the drift,when suddenly and without any warning a mass of Zulus rose up from thebush on One side of the road, and roaring "_Usutu_!" charged down uponthe front of the column. They were naked, save for their _mutyas_ andornaments of flowing cowhair, and carried shields and bright,business-like assegais.

  "Sapazani's people," exclaimed Ben Halse. "Look out for the chief,boys. You can't mistake him once you sight him--half a head taller thanthe longest here."

  There was not even time to dismount, but the revolvers of the police atsuch close quarters, aimed low, poured such a terrific fire into theadvancing mass that those behind could not come on for the line ofwrithing, struggling bodies that lay in front.

  "Give it them again, boys," yelled
Sub-Inspector Dering, lifting the topoff the skull of a gigantic savage who was clutching at his bridle reinwith one hand, a broad assegai held ready to strike in the other. Thegreat body toppled over with a thud, and at the same time anothercrashing volley sent many more to earth, the residue dropping into coveragain. With splendid discipline the troop resumed its march.

  Fresh cartridges were slapped into the pistols; it seemed likely toprove a revolver duel, in that the bush was too thick to admit of usingrifles. The trained horses, being all together, had shown themselveswonderfully free from restiveness. As for the men, an extraordinarythrill of excitement had run through all ranks. This was battle indeed,and, so far, they had held their own.

  For a few minutes they kept on in silence, with pulses tingling, butcool-nerved, alert, ready for any fresh move. Then a volley brokeforth, flashing redly from the dim duskiness of the slope. Bulletshummed over the heads of the troop, two of them splintering the side ofBen Halse's spider. Verna, who had got out her magazine rifle, and wasstraining her eyes in search of a mark, heard them and moved not amuscle. Her father, who was driving, but whose revolver was ready tohis hand, also took no notice. But just before the volley ceased downwent a trooper almost under the wheels of the trap.

  "In here with him," cried Verna, springing to the ground, and herselfhelping to lift the stricken man in. He was badly hurt, too, andinsensible, but there was little enough time then for attending thewounded, for immediately a fresh volley was poured in. This time twotroopers fell, one shot stone dead. The concealed savages raised adeafening roar of exultation.

  But now some of them began to show themselves. There was a break in thedense bush, and in their eagerness they began to cross this too soon.The order for half the escort to dismount was followed by a volley fromthe rifles. It was now too dark to see the result clearly but from thevengeful yells that went up it was obvious that more than one bullet hadgone home. Again the volleys roared redly through the night.

  A chain is no stronger than its weakest link, which for present purposesmay be taken to mean that two of the prospectors' horses had gone deadlame. After the repulse of the first attack the escort had been goingat a trot, and the prospectors, who had been bringing up the rear, haddropped dangerously behind, and among all the noise and firing theirshouts to that effect had gone unheard. One, galloping furiously up,now brought the intelligence.

  "Dickinson, ten men and come along," yelled Dering, who was lookingafter the rear of the column. "Those devils'll have 'em if we ain'tsharp."

  It happened that Denham had been chatting with the sergeant,incidentally little dreaming of the nature of the other's furtiveinterest in him. Now that there was a call to the rescue he dashed offwith the party. These they came up with not far down the road. Robsonhad been hit by a bullet and badly wounded, and a comrade was supportinghim on his horse. Stride's horse was one of the lame ones, and Stridehimself was doing all he knew by kicks and blows and cursed to urge thatnoble but unreliable animal onward. Just then the enemy seemed tobecome aware that something was wrong.

  "Look out, sir," warned Dickinson to his officer. "On the right!"

  They could hear the bushes parting, the thud of running feet. ThenStride's horse fell.

  "Here, jump up, man!" cried Denham. "Up behind me. My horse is asstrong as the devil."

  "_Usutu_!" broke from the onrushing crowd. "_Usutu, 'Sutu_!"

  The savage forms were almost in among them now--assegais ready.

  "Quick, quick, damn it!" shouted Denham. Stride hesitated no longer,and the horse with its double burden started off after the rest.

  The roar of the war-shout was right in their ears now. They had justregained their comrades when something seemed to strike Denham with adebilitating numbness, followed by a spasm of the most intense agony.His hold relaxed. He was conscious of a roaring inside his head, andout of it. The whole world seemed to be whirling round with him.

  Rescuers and rescued reached the column just in time, just as anotherfierce attack was delivered. But again that well-directed volley wasavailable, and the assailants dropped back. Moreover, the bush endedhere, and in the face of that determined repulse the savages had nostomach for trying their luck in the open. The troop moved onunmolested.

  Then was heard a voice, a clear, woman's voice, audible in the stillnight to every man in the whole escort.

  "Where is Mr Denham?"

  A thrill of instinctive consternation ran through all who heard.Denham's name was called up and down the line of march, but with noresult. In the confusion attendant on the last close attack on therescue party nobody had seen anybody. It had been very much a case ofevery man for himself. Some one, however, had seen Denham mount Stridebehind him on his horse. And then Stride himself came forward.

  "You left him," said Verna, her pale face and gleaming eyes lookingdreadful in the brilliant starlight. "He saved you, and you left him.You coward!"

  "So help me, God, I didn't!" objected Stride vehemently. "I don'treally know what happened. I'll go back this moment and look for him.Any one go with me?" looking around somewhat vacantly. "Then I'll goalone." Then he swayed and tottered, pulled himself together, thensubsided on the ground, in total unconsciousness.

  "He's hit, himself," said one of the police who were bending over thewounded man. "Rather. He's got it bang through the chest."

  Verna looked at the fallen man, and her bitter resentment left her, butnot her grief.

  "I am going back to look for him," she said. "Who'll volunteer?"

  "You shan't go," said her father decisively; "but I will. How many mencan you spare me, Bray?"

  Inspector Bray was not pleased. Here he had brought off this expeditionwith success, even with brilliancy, and now the kudos he would gainwould be utterly marred. For to allow any of his men to go on thisinsane quest would mean to send them to their death. There was not achance of the missing man being found, except cut into small pieces.Still, if it had been any other than Ben Halse--and, besides, that whiteface, those eyes, gleaming in the starlight!

  "You can have ten," he said gruffly, "if you can get as many tovolunteer."

  Ten? The whole troop wanted to volunteer on the spot. But the ten werechosen.

  "I'll be somethinged if I follow up this investigation any further,"said Sergeant Dickinson, who was one of those chosen, to himself, asthey set out. "He may have killed a hundred blanked `Sheenies' for allI care. I'm not going to hunt down a chap like that. I'd rather chuckthe Force."

  It may be said that the search party utterly failed in its object. Itwas met by overwhelming numbers, and there was nothing for it but aprecipitate retreat upon the column again.

  Then and for all the days to come Verna Halse realised that for her thelight of the world had gone out.