The Fire Trumpet Part 60

A rattling crash as every rifle is emptied, and then with a wild cheer the men, revolver in hand, are riding at a gallop upon the kraal; but first and foremost throughout is their undaunted leader. And the Kafirs, their ranks already sadly thinned out, unable to withstand the onslaught of this mad charge, turn and fly for dear life.

"Hurrah! At them, boys!" yells Jim, discharging his revolver at the foremost of two stalwart Gcalekas, who have sprung like lightning out of the very ground, as it were. The savage, however, dives to avoid the shot, which hits one of his fellow-countrymen fair in the back, and, gathering himself like a panther, leaps at his a.s.sailant, a.s.segai in hand, aiming a furious stab at his side--but too late. The impetus of his pace carries Jim past, and the Kafir, missing his blow and his footing, falls forward on his face, to be trampled into a lifeless pulp beneath the hoofs of the horses, as the whole troop pours through the village, pistolling the fleeing or opposing enemy, and the ground is strewn with human forms, dead and dying.

And now the fight has become a stampede and a rout. Shut in on three sides by the hors.e.m.e.n bearing down upon them, the fleeing Kafirs run like bucks along the river bank, to make good their escape ere yon dark cloud of advancing Fingoes, sweeping steadily down to cut them off, shall get in front of them. Can they do this, they may yet hope to count up their scattered remnant in the welcome shelter of that dark forest line a few miles off. At any rate, they will cut their way through the Fingo dogs, and many a fierce warrior, grinding his teeth as he grips his a.s.segai, starts off with renewed vigour, to pour out the heart's blood of at any rate one of his despised foes before he dies.

Suddenly the flight stops, and with a rallying cry a body of the Kafirs make a stand. They are beyond the reach of the sh.e.l.ls, and by this time the rout has scattered far over the plain; and the nearest Fingoes, who have been slowly overtaking their enemies, waver and hesitate, quailing before their former masters, who throw out at them threats and fierce taunts. The fugitives have nothing but empty guns, which being mostly muzzle-loaders, they have no time to reload. a.s.segais are thrown, and more than one whooping and hitherto exultant Fingo wallows in the dust, transfixed by the deadly javelin. In another minute these cowardly auxiliaries will turn and fly, as the Gcalekas, with clubbed guns and gripping their large stabbing a.s.segais, furiously charge them, uttering their war-cry--when behold, a body of hors.e.m.e.n comes sweeping up, Jim Brathwaite's troop leading, and the tide is turned. The Fingoes, inspired with fresh courage, stand, and sneak behind the whites, waiting for these to disperse the enemy, and then go quietly after them and a.s.segai the wounded lying upon the ground.

"Hallo!" cried Armitage. "Hold on; Gough's down."

"Oh, it's nothing, I'm not hurt," is the plucky reply, as the young fellow leaps clear of his horse, which, stabbed to the heart by a wounded Kafir who lay on the ground, had fallen with a crash.

"Bight you are. Better fall in with the dismounted men," and away rides the speaker.

Suddenly one of the Kafirs, watching his opportunity, springs like a cat on to the saddle of a trooper, and gripping him round the neck with one arm, stabs him to the heart with the other; then loosing his murderous embrace as he and his victim slide to the earth together, he runs like the wind, casting his glance from side to side in search of another possible victim, when he falls, pierced by a couple of revolver bullets.

Another savage is suddenly descried by Hicks and Armitage, who are riding together, rus.h.i.+ng at a man, who with his bridle over his arm stands coolly awaiting his approach. This man both of them have noticed during the pursuit. Working apparently alone, he has kept himself entirely free from flurry and excitement, reining in every now and then and taking a deliberate shot at long range, almost invariably bringing down one of the foe. And now they watch him, as a great sinewy Kafir rushes at him like a wild beast, now leaping high in the air, now dropping into the gra.s.s, then zig-zagging as if to get round the white man, who stands perfectly calm through it all, with a slightly sneering smile upon his face, but covering this dancing, leaping a.s.sailant with his gun-barrels.

Crack! The savage falls. Then, as suddenly, he picks himself up, and with a wild shout rushes at his cool antagonist.

"He's got him, by G.o.d!" cries Hicks, as in a tension of excitement he marks the artful feint of the barbarian and, as he thinks, the turning of the tables. But the other never moves, nor does the expression of his countenance alter by a single hair's breadth.

Crack! Another report, and the fierce warrior falls, this time stone-dead, leaping nearly against the barrel which at point-blank had sent a full charge of "loopers" straight through his heart.

"Whoop! Hooray!" yelled Hicks, wild with excitement. "Grand old shot, that! Thought you were a gone c.o.o.n, by Jove!"

The other quickly slipped a couple of cartridges into the smoking breech of his gun, and looked up with a slight smile at this remark; and what he saw soon changed the smile into an outright laugh. For Hicks was staring at him, speechless and open-mouthed, while even Armitage looked somewhat dumbfoundered.

"The devil!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Hicks, and relapsed into staring again.

"That's uncivil," remarked the stranger, drily.

"Why, hang it, it is--Claverton, no one else! Arthur, old boy, where on earth _have_ you dropped from? I vow this is the best thing that's happened for years. We thought you must be dead and buried, hearing nothing about you," and leaping to the ground, honest Hicks wrung his former comrade's hand as if he would crush that remarkably useful member.

Something in the last phrase jarred upon Claverton. Lilian had said much the same thing when they had met.

"Well, here I am at any rate. Turned up again like the proverbial 's.h.i.+se' coin," he replied. "How's yourself? Flouris.h.i.+ng apparently.

You look as if 'the holy estate' agreed with you. And Jack? I say, Jack; bet you two to one in anything you like you don't drop that chap scuttling away over there."

"Done for you!" cried Armitage, sighting his rifle and drawing a bead on one of the retreating enemy, distant some seven hundred yards.

"No. Hand over!" cried Claverton. "Missed him clean. Give you another shot, though."

But the other shot was likewise a failure; and the Gcaleka got off scot-free to rejoin, if he listed, the bosom of his family.

"Never mind, Jack. I won't dun you for the stakes, I only wanted to see if you had left off that villainous sporting habit of yours."

"But, Arthur--how the deuce did you come here?" went on Hicks. "You're not a Volunteer--those fellows are all jingling with chains and whistles."

"Yes, I am. Kaffrarian Rangers, full private. And then?"

"And then? Why, you must join us without any further _indaba_. We'll have a high old time of it. Do you mean to say you can cut all your old friends and go and fight among strangers? Bos.h.!.+"

Claverton whistled meditatively as he surveyed the field of battle and of flight. Here and there lay a dark object in a heap amid the gra.s.s, just as it had fallen--the slain body of a Gcaleka warrior--and scattered afar rode the pursuing hors.e.m.e.n.

"Well, I don't know," he said. "I should rather like to cut in with you fellows. I'll see if it can be managed."

"Of course you will," said Hicks, light-heartedly. "By Jove, if that isn't 'the retire.'"

For the clear notes of the bugle were ringing afar, and in obedience to the summons the straggling hors.e.m.e.n began to collect from all parts of the field, and to retrace their steps, marvelling not a little at this sudden and unlooked-for mandate. And from the chief's village, the "Great Place," went up a great cloud of smoke, as, having hunted out its fleeing inhabitants, the last of the attacking force had flung a torch into the thatch tenements, setting the whole in a blaze; and above the bursting flames great rolling pillars of smoke mounted to the sky.

Slowly the pursuers straggled back, their horses and themselves wet with perspiration and grimy with dust and powder; many hatless, having lost their "roofing," they said, in the hurry-scurry of the charge or of the pursuit; while a darker stain showed upon others, whether on their clothes or accoutrements--the stain of blood. The horses were panting after their long gallop, and the riders commenting freely on the events of the morning in a loud, excited tone. Many carried a.s.segais, whole or broken, which they had taken as trophies, also bead-work, and other articles of native apparel or adornment. And in the rear marched the Fingo contingent, howling their war-song and looking intensely valiant now that the danger was over.

"_Manzi! Ndipe manzi_!" ["Water. Give me water."] besought a faint voice.

Our party stopped, looking searchingly around. Several bodies of the enemy lay about, all apparently lifeless.

"Let the skunk die," said a rough-looking fellow, who, with several others, had joined them when the rally was sounded. "Or give him his quietus in the shape of a leaden pill. A pretty dance they've led us all this time, and now to be calling on us to do hospital nurse for them. d.a.m.ned if I do."

"Well, a pretty dance we've led them to-day, at any rate. Poor devil!

It won't do any one any harm to give him a drink," rejoined Claverton, dismounting and scrutinising the only one who showed sign of life. A tall, finely-made young Kafir lay with eyes half unclosed, and breathing heavily, apparently in great pain. Claverton bent over him as he repeated his fevered entreaty.

"Well, you may do nurse, I shan't, so good day to you," jeered the first speaker, riding on, while Hicks and Armitage reined in a moment, looking from their newly-found chum to the wounded man as if wondering what was coming next. But Claverton, without heeding anybody, took a large flask from his pocket, and poured a little of its contents between the Kafir's teeth. Then filling the cup with water from the river, which ran hard by, he raised the wounded man's head, and let him drain off the desired fluid.

"More," whispered the Kafir; and having filled the little vessel again, Claverton watched his _protege_ drink the contents greedily. Then, with a deep sigh of relief, the sufferer lay back with closed eyes.

"That'll do, Arthur. Come on, now, and leave the beggar alone," cried Hicks, impatiently. "Or are you going to set up an 'ambulance' all over the field?"

"Don't know," replied the other, imperturbably. "It's not much trouble, and we've been shooting such a lot of the poor devils that one may as well give one of them the consolation of a drink _in extremis_." And he stood contemplating his _protege_, who he had ascertained was not dangerously though badly wounded by a ball in the side. Then it occurred to him that the face of the stricken savage was not altogether unfamiliar to him; but where he had seen it he could not remember.

And now the war-song of the Fingoes drew nearer, and hearing it, the wounded man once more unclosed his eyes, with a mingled expression of despair and resignation and contempt. There was not a chance for him, he thought. The "dogs" would come up, and the white man would stand by and tell them to kill him. Well, what did it matter? They were dogs, and he was a warrior of the Amaxosa--nothing could get rid of that fact.

Then, just as he thought his hour had come, the white man remarked in his own tongue: "Lie perfectly still and shut your eyes. If the Fingoes see that you're alive, even though I may save you now, they will surely come back and kill you before you can get away." And the other obeyed.

Claverton slowly proceeded to fill and light his pipe, as if he had dismounted with that object and that alone, and the Fingoes, their a.s.segais red and blood-stained, marched past, looking about as though in search of any of the dreaded foe still living. They saluted the white man with servile acclamation, and pa.s.sed on.

"Now," continued he, when the savage auxiliaries were well out of the way, "wait until the coast's clear, and then hook it. Go and tell Kreli that if he's wise he'll shut up fighting and come and sing small, and acknowledge that he's made an a.s.s of himself. You see, we don't want to kill you fellows unless we are obliged, and then we'll do for the lot of you. Now be off as soon as you can."

The young Kafir, who was by no means a bad-looking fellow, smiled as he softly murmured a.s.sent, and, with a grateful look in his eyes, he laid hold of his benefactor's foot and drew it to his lips in token of grat.i.tude.

"All right," said the latter; "now look to yourself," and mounting his horse he overtook the rest, who had been making merry over their friend's eccentricity.

"Now you've done the wet-nurse trick, old chap, we'll get back to camp and have a gla.s.s of grog," said Armitage.

"That's a good idea," a.s.sented Claverton. He did not mind their chaff, and would not have even if it were more ill-natured. A pa.s.sing impulse had moved him to befriend this wounded savage, and he had obeyed it.

And it may be that an even yet more humanising influence was at work, and that on that fierce battle-field, reeking with blood and carnage, the image of Lilian stood, viewing him with a sweet, approving smile as he listened to the agonised prayer of the stricken barbarian, who might be the first, if ever opportunity offered, to repay his charity with an a.s.segai thrust. But having done this thing he was glad, and a softer feeling centred round his heart as if he actually heard Lilian's approving voice in his ear.

Much growling was indulged in as the burghers and volunteers, returning to camp, learned that the pursuit was to be discontinued. They had struck a decisive blow, and now were not to be allowed to follow it up.

Public discontent found its expression freely and in forcible language.

"Infernal nonsense?" repeated one big fellow in reply to a comrade's observation. "I believe you. Why, what we've done to-day is no good at all--not one blessed ha'porth. We've shot a few of these fellers and chevied a few more; but what o' that? They're thick as bees over yonder," and the speaker jerked one hand in the direction of the flight, while with the other he viciously crammed his short, wooden pipe.