The Kopje Garrison Part 63

"Not yet-the brute!" cried d.i.c.kenson through his teeth.

"He'll have the other two safe, sir."

"Other two?" cried d.i.c.kenson wonderingly.

"What! don't you see, sir? There's another of the ponies. .h.i.t."

"Good gracious!" cried d.i.c.kenson, in such a homely, grandmotherly style that, in spite of their perilous position, the sergeant could not help smiling.

But his face was as hard as an iron mask directly, as he saw the look of anguish in his young officer's face, d.i.c.kenson having just seen the second pony standing with drooping head and all four legs widely separated, rocking to and fro for a few moments, before dropping heavily, perfectly dead.

Crack! came again from the same place, and another of the grazing ponies flung up its head, neighing shrilly, before springing forward to gallop for a couple of hundred yards and then fall.

And crack! again, and its following puff of smoke, making the fourth pony start and begin to limp for a few yards with its off foreleg broken; and crack! once more, and the sound of a sharp rap caused by another bullet striking the suffering beast right in the middle of the shoulder-blade, when it dropped dead instantly, pierced through the heart.

"Best shot yet, sir," said the sergeant grimly; "put the poor beast out of its misery. Now," he muttered to himself, "we know what we've got to expect if we don't stop his little game."

"Every man watch below where the smoke rose," said d.i.c.kenson slowly and sternly. "That man can't see without exposing himself in some way. Yes; be on the alert. Look! he's pressing the sand away to right and left with the barrel of his rifle. Mind, don't fire till you've got a thoroughly good chance."

No one spoke, but all lay flat upon their chests, watching the moving right and left of a gun-barrel which was directed towards them, but pointing so that if fired a bullet would have gone over their heads. It was hard to see; but the sun glinted from its polished surface from time to time, and moment by moment they noted that it was becoming more horizontal.

Every man's sight was strained to the utmost; every nerve was on the quiver; so that not one of the four felt that he could trust himself to shoot when the crucial moment came.

It came more quickly than they expected; for, after a few moments of intense strain, the barrel was suddenly depressed, till through the clear air the watchers distinctly saw a tiny hole and nothing more. Then all at once the sun glinted from something else-a something that flashed brightly for one instant, and was then obscured by smoke-the smoke that darted from the little, just perceptible orifice of the small-bore Mauser and that which shot out from four British rifles, to combine into one slowly rising cloud; while as the commingled reports of five rifles, friendly and inimical, died away, to the surprise of d.i.c.kenson and his men they saw the figure of a big swarthy Boer staggering towards them with both hands pressed to his face. The next moment he was lying just in front of his hiding-place, stretched out-dead.

Chapter Thirty One.

Safe at Last.

"Ha!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed d.i.c.kenson, with a sigh of relief, and he turned away to creep to where Lennox lay, finding him still plunged in the same state of stupor.

"One ought to lay him in the shade," he thought; but there was very little that he could do beyond drawing a few pieces of the thorn bush together to hang over his face. He then took out his handkerchief to lay over the bush, but hastily s.n.a.t.c.hed it away again. "Bah!" he muttered. "It's like making a white bull's-eye for them to fire at."

Then he crept back to his position, with the bullets still whizzing overhead or striking up the dust, and he almost wondered that no one had been hit.

"I hope Mr Lennox is better, sir," said the sergeant respectfully.

"I see no difference, sergeant. But what does that mean?"

"What we used to call 'stalking horse,' sir, down in the Ess.e.x marshes. Creeping up under the shelter of their mounts."

"Then they are getting nearer?"

"Yes, sir. Don't you think we might begin to pay them back? We could hit their ponies if we couldn't hit them."

"Yes, sergeant, soon," replied the young officer, carefully scanning the enemy's approach; "but I think I'd let them get a hundred yards, or even two, nearer before we begin. The business is simplified."

"Is it, sir?"

"I mean, there's no question of retreating now that the ponies are gone. It's either fight to the last, or surrender."

"You mean, sir, that there were three things to do?"

"Yes; and now it's one of two."

"Isn't it only one, sir? I think the lads feel as I do, right-down savage, and ready to fight to the last."

"Very well," said d.i.c.kenson; "then we'll light to the last."

The sergeant smiled, and then for a time all lay perfectly still, fully expecting that one or other of the many bullets which came whizzing by would find its billet; but though there were several very narrow escapes, no one was. .h.i.t, and though the enemy in front had greatly lessened the distance, their bullets struck no nearer. But the men grew very impatient under the terrible strain, and all three kept on turning their heads to watch their officer, who lay frowning, his rifle in front and his chin supported by his folded arms.

"Ah!" came at last, in an involuntary sigh of relief from all three, as they saw d.i.c.kenson alter his position after the enemy had made a fresh and perceptible decrease in the distance between them by urging their ponies forward, the men's legs being strongly marked, giving the ponies the appearance of being furnished with another pair, as their riders stood taking aim and resting their rifles across the saddles.

But no order to fire came from d.i.c.kenson, who still remained quiet. Then all at once:

"Sergeant," he said, "I've practised a great deal with the sporting rifle, but done very little of this sort of thing myself. I'm going to try now if I can't stop this miserable sneaking approach of the enemy."

The men gave a hearty cheer.

"I'm sorry for the poor ponies," he said, "for I think this range will be well within the power of the service arm."

"Yes, sir, quite," said the sergeant promptly.

d.i.c.kenson was silent once again, and they saw him taking a long, careful aim at the nearest Boer. The effect of his shot was that the pony he had aimed at sprang forward, leaving a Boer visible, facing them in astonishment before he turned to run.

"Fire!" said d.i.c.kenson, and three shots followed almost instantaneously, while the running Boer was seen lying upon the earth.

"Be ready!" said d.i.c.kenson, aiming now at another of the ponies, and paying no heed to six or seven replies from the exasperated Boers.

The pony now fired at reared up, and in the clear suns.h.i.+ne the man who was aiming across it was seen to be crushed down by the poor animal's fall, and he did not rise again.

Once more d.i.c.kenson's rifle rang out, and he s.h.i.+fted it back now to his right, to fire his fourth shot almost without aiming. As the smoke cleared away by the time the young officer had replaced the exploded cartridges, one pony could be seen struggling on the ground, another was galloping away, while two men were crawling backward on hands and knees.

"It seems like butchery, sergeant," said d.i.c.kenson, taking another long aim before firing again. "Missed!"

"No, sir: I saw the pony start," said the sergeant eagerly. "There, look at him!"

For the two men cheered on seeing the pony limp for a few yards and then fall, just beyond where his master was lying stretched out on his face.

"Poor brute!" said d.i.c.kenson in a low voice.

"He didn't say it was butchery when that chap was knocking down our mounts at quarter this distance," said the sergeant to himself. "But, my word, he can shoot! I shouldn't like to change places with the Boers when he's behind a rifle."

Just then the men cheered, for three more of the enemy who had been stalking them were seen to spring into the saddle, lie flat down over their willing mounts, and gallop away as hard as they could to join their comrades.