CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.
ROUGH WORK.
It was the sound of a deep breath which put an end to West's slumber,and he opened his eyes to lie staring at two more, big, brown, soft, andpeaceful-looking, not a foot away from his own.
It was some moments before full wakefulness came and he realised wherehe was, and that it was his pony, well-fed and rested, mutely asking himwhether he was not going to mount and ride off again.
It was then that the thought of danger asserted itself, and he raisedhis head and looked sharply around, to see that they were amongst stonesand bushes where; the bank went precipitously down to a beautifulwinding river flowing amongst abundant verdure. Close by him layIngleborough, still fast asleep, and beyond him the other pony, stillcropping away at the rich green growth which sprang up among the stones.Then, as far as he could see, West made out nothing but the beauty ofthe spot upon which they had stumbled in the darkness of the night. Herose to his knees stiffly enough, and was in the act of getting upon hisfeet, realising that the beautiful greenery formed a riband on eitherside of the river, beyond which was the open veldt, when he dropped downagain to reach out and grasp Ingleborough's shoulder, for in his rapidglance he had caught sight of a party of mounted men out in the fullsunshine about half-a-mile away. They were walking their horses, and itseemed for certain to be the whole or a portion of the enemy of theprevious day, for he recalled, what had not struck him at the time, thatone of the Boers was mounted upon a grey horse, and one of the others hecould see from where he watched was similarly mounted.
"Plenty of grey horses about, of course!" he muttered; "but this seemsto be the one I saw yesterday."
"What's the matter?" said Ingleborough.
"Hist! Keep quiet!" replied West. "The Boers are upon us! Look!"
Ingleborough rose cautiously, took a long earnest look through hisglass, and put it back.
"Yes, there they are," he said coolly; "there's that chap again on thewhite pony. Good job we didn't try to ford the river in the darkness.Why, we should have been swept away."
West glanced for a moment in the direction of the stream, and graspedthe truth of his companion's words, before scanning their position andtaking it in at once.
"We can't get over yonder," he said quickly.
"No," replied Ingleborough. "That cuts two ways. Neither can theyattack us from that quarter; so our rear is safe."
"We shall not be able to escape north," continued West.
"No; we are shut in there."
"Nor yet south, for they would pick us off easily before we could getthrough the rough ground to gallop away."
"Quite right, lad; and they are advancing on our front. Noll, my boy,there is only one thing to be done."
"What is that?"
"Turn that patch of rocks there into our fort, and hold out till they'veshot us down, or we've shot them, or they've made us surrender."
"What about provisions?"
"Plenty of water," said Ingleborough coolly, nodding towards the river.
"We're nearly famished now."
"Yes, lad! I certainly feel as if I could peck a bit of something if Ihad the chance. But come, there's no time for talking. There's aready-made fort for us, and the next thing is to get the ponies intocover. I say, I was right! I knew that the enemy would stick doggedlyto our trail till they ran us down."
"Look here!" cried West: "I'm going to crawl to those rocks and try andcover you while you follow with the ponies."
"No need," replied Ingleborough; "the poor things have eaten till theycan eat no more, and they'll follow us right enough. Let's try and getunder cover before we are seen."
West hesitated for a moment, for the thought arose that the Boer partymight ride away and try to find a ford, but a glance showed him that inthe brief period which had passed since he awoke and saw them the enemywere much nearer, and, following his companion's example, he began tocrawl on all-fours towards the clump of rocks pointed out, the horsesquietly following them.
They had about fifty yards to go through a cover of bushes and lumps ofrugged stone, but before they were half-way there West criedimpatiently: "I don't like it; the Boers must see the horses directly.Let's mount and make a dash for it."
"Very well!" replied Ingleborough quietly. "Perhaps it would be best!"
"Then as soon as you are up we must ride towards them till we are clearof these bushes, and then off we go to the right."
"Good; but it must be sharp work, for of course they will see us themoment we are up!" answered Ingleborough.
"We must risk it, Ingle," said West. "We never could keep them at bay.Let's have action: it would be horrible to be lying behind a rock withthe sun beating down upon us. Now then, get hold of your rein!"
There was a few moments' pause while the pair crept alongside of theirponies. Then West drew a deep breath and cried: "Mount!"
As he uttered the word he glanced over his pony's back at the advancingenemy, and saw that they had caught sight of the two animals, halted,and were in the act of taking aim at them. But neither West norIngleborough paused, raising a foot to the stirrup and being in the actof springing up, when the reports of about a dozen rifles rang out, andWest's rein was jerked out of his hand as he was thrown upon his back,while his pony made a series of tremendous bounds, the last of whichtook it into the river with a plunge of about a dozen feet right into adeep pool. The water splashed on high, glittering in the sunshine, andthe next minute the unfortunate beast was floating slowly away towardsthe swift current, just feebly pawing at the water, and on raising itshead it fell again with a heavy splash.
"They can shoot well!" said Ingleborough coolly.
West turned his gaze from the dying pony, irritated beyond measure byhis companion's easy-going coolness, and then saw the full extent oftheir trouble, for Ingleborough's pony had sunk upon its knees and thenlain gently over upon its side, to die instantly without a struggle, oneof the Boers' bullets having passed right through its brain.
"Might have been worse!" continued Ingleborough. "They did not hit us!Come along, lad! They can't see us now. Follow me, and let's creep tothe fort. Keep down, lad; keep down."
West had involuntarily dropped on all-fours as Ingleborough spoke, andnone too soon, for another dozen bullets came rattling over them,cutting the twigs and spattering amongst the rocks, while several passedclose to them with a buzzing sound.
"There!" cried Ingleborough the next minute. "No question now aboutwhat we're going to do. Here's our fort; there's plenty of water; andthe Boers have shot our provisions ready for us. We must cut some ofthe meat up for biltong, and eat as much as we can while the rest of itis fresh."
"For heaven's sake don't talk of eating!" cried West. "Look here: let'screep along through the cover and try and get away."
"On foot, followed by mounted men? No good; we should be pumped out inless than a couple of hours!"
"Then let's make the brutes pay dearly for what they've done!" criedWest angrily. "Now Ingle, let's prove to them that we can use ourrifles too! I'm going to shoot every horse I can."
"Very well: so am I; and if that does not beat them off I'm going tobring down man after man till the rest of them run for their lives. Gota good place?"
"Yes," said West, whose rifle-barrel rested in a crack between twostones.
"Then fire away; but don't waste a shot!"
"Trust me!" cried West grimly. "Now then, fire; and remember thedespatch!"
He took careful aim as he spoke, and drew trigger, with the result thatone of the Boer ponies stopped short, spun round, flung its rider, andgalloped madly away.
The next moment Ingleborough's rifle cracked, and a second pony began towalk on three legs, while the party opened out, galloping so as to forma half-circle about their enemies, the two ends resting on the riverbank and forming a radius of about three hundred yards.
"Sixteen more ponies to bring down," said Ingleborough; "and those twodismounted men will take
cover and begin to stalk us."
"That's what the whole party will do!" said West bitterly. "We shallhit no more ponies: they'll get them all into cover, and then comecreeping nearer and nearer."
At that moment Ingleborough fired again right in front where one of theBoers dismounted among some trees.
"There's one more though," said Ingleborough, for the poor brute he hadfired at reared up and then fell, to lie kicking on its flank. "Try foranother yourself, lad!"
Before he had finished speaking West had fired again, and another ponywas hit, to come tearing towards them, dragging its dismounted riderafter it, for the man clung to the reins till he was jerked off his feetand drawn along the ground some fifty yards, when his head came incontact with a stone, and he lay insensible, his pony galloping foranother hundred yards and then falling, paralysed in its hindquarters.
And now the Boers' bullets began to rattle about the stones whichprotected the hidden pair, keeping them lying close and only able tofire now and then; but they got chances which they did not miss ofbringing down, killing, or disabling five more of the enemy's ponies,which upon being left alone began to graze, and naturally exposedthemselves.
Maddened by their losses and inability to see their foes, the Boers keptreducing the distance, creeping from stone to bush and from bush tostone, rendering the defenders' position minute by minute one of greaterperil.
But the danger did not trouble West. It only increased the excitementfrom which he suffered, and, with his eyes flashing in his eagerness, hekept on showing the Boers where he lay by firing at every opportunity,religiously keeping his aim for the ponies, in the full belief thatbefore long the Boers would retire.
"It's no good to play that game!" cried Ingleborough suddenly, and hemade a quick movement, turning a little to his right and firing.
There was a hoarse yell, and a man sprang up not above a hundred yardsaway, dropped his rifle, and turning round he began to stagger away.
"You are firing at the Boers, Ingle," cried West excitedly.
"Yes: it was time!" growled Ingleborough, through his teeth, with hisvoice sounding hoarse and strange. "I've hit three. Two haven'tmoved."
"What's the matter?" asked West, in a tone of anxiety, for he felt thatsomething serious had happened to his comrade.
"Don't talk," growled Ingleborough angrily. "Look! Those two. Fire!"
Two of the Boers away to West's left front had suddenly sprung up, andbending low were running towards him, evidently making for a patch ofbush, out of which a mass of grey stone peered, not a hundred yards fromthe young men's shelter. Feeling now that it was life for life, Westglanced along the barrel of his rifle, waiting till the Boers had nearlyreached their goal, and then, just as the second dashed close behind hisleader, West drew trigger, shivering the next moment, for as the smokerose he saw one of the men lying upon his face and the other crawlingback on all-fours.
"Good shot!" said Ingleborough hoarsely, and then he uttered a deepgroan.
"Ingle, old fellow, what is it?" cried West.
The only answer he obtained was from his comrade's piece, for the latterfired again, and another Boer sprang into sight not a hundred yardsaway, fell upon his knees, and then rolled over.
"Ingle, old fellow," cried West; "don't say you're hurt!"
"Oh!" groaned Ingleborough. "Wasn't going to, old man; but that lastbrute got me."
"Hurt much?"
"Much? It's like red-hot iron through me. Oh, if I only had somewater!"
"Water?" cried West, springing up. "Yes; I'll get some."
_Crack, crack, crack_! Half-a-dozen rifles rang out in differentdirections, and in an instant West suffered for his thoughtlessunselfish act, for he felt as if someone had struck him a cruel blowwith a sjambok across the face from the front, while someone else haddriven the butt of his rifle with all his force full upon hisshoulder-blade--this blow from the back driving him forward upon hisknees and then causing him to fall across Ingleborough. Then for a fewmoments everything seemed as a blank.
"Hurt much?" came the next minute, as if from a distance.
"Hurt? No!" said West huskily, and he made an effort and rose to hisknees. Then, stung to rage by an agonising pain which stiffened himinto action, he levelled his rifle once more, took a quick aim at acouple of the Boers who were running towards them in a stoopingposition, fired, and distinctly saw one of the two drop to the ground.
The next moment someone fired over his shoulder, and the other wentdown, just as West's rifle dropped from his hand and he fell oversideways, yielding to a horribly sickening sensation, followed by ahalf-dreamy fancy that someone had felt for and got hold of his hand, togrip it in a way that was at first terribly painful--a pang seeming torun up from hand to shoulder. The pain appeared to grow worse andworse, then deadened, and came again, and so on, like spasms of agony,while all the time the firing went on from all around.
"Poor old Ingle!" was about his last clear thought; "they've killed him,and now they're firing till they've quite frightened me! Oh, how theykeep on shooting! Get it over, you cowardly brutes--nearly a score ofyou against two! Oh!" he groaned then: "if I could only have deliveredmy despatch!"
His left hand was raised painfully to his breast to feel whether thepaper was still safe; but the pain of the effort was sickening, and hishand glided over something wet and warm and sticky.
"Poor old Ingle! Blood!" flashed through his brain, as the riflereports rang out from very close now, and then all was blank.
The end of everything seemed to have come.