Charge! Part 2

"The commando?" said my father, while I felt staggered, only half-grasping the import of his words.

"Yes, sor, the commando. D'ye suppose ye are to have the protection of the State, and do nothing again' your counthry's inimies? If ye do ye're greatly mistaken. Every man must take his turn to difind the counthry, and ye may feel preciously contented that ye don't have to join yerself."

"But I have heard of no rising," said my father, looking at me anxiously. "The blacks all about here are peaceable and friendly."

"Not the blackest blacks, sor," said the man, drawing himself up and raising one hand and his voice in an oratorical way; "the blacks I mane are white-skinned, but black in the heart through and through; the blacks who are the dispisers of progress, the foes of freedom, the inimies of the counthry, sor-the despicable, insolent Saxons."

"Do you mean the English?" said my father coolly.

"I do that, sor," said the man defiantly; "and the day has dawned at last when the down-thrampled Boers are goin' to give them a lesson that shall make the British lion snaik out of this counthry with his tail between his legs like a beaten dog."

"You are a British subject, sir," said my father.

"Mahn, I scorrun it," cried our visitor. "I have thrown off all fealty years ago, and am a free Irishman, and captain of the body of brave men who are going to dhrive the tyranny of England out of this colony for ever."

"This is all news to me, sir," said my father coldly.

"Is it, sor?" said our visitor mockingly. "Then I'm proud to be the bearer of the great news."

"Do you mean to tell me, then," said my father, "that there is war declared by England against the Boers?"

"No, sor," cried the fellow insolently; "but I tell you that we have declared war again' the brutal Saxon."

"We, sir?" said my father gravely. "But you are one of the Queen's servants-an Irishman."

"Nothing of the sort, sor. I disown England; I disowned her when I came out here to throw meself into the arrums of the brave, suffering, pathriotic race around me, and placed my sword at their service."

"Then you are a soldier, I presume?" said my father.

"I was tin years in the arrmy, sor," said our visitor, drawing himself up and clapping his hand upon his chest. "Look at thim," he continued, pointing to his followers drawn up in line. "A part of my following, and as fine irrigular cavalry as ever threw leg over saddle.-Look here, young man, ye're in luck, for ye'll have the honour of serving in Captain Eustace Moriarty's troop."

"You are Captain Eustace Moriarty?" said my father.

"I am, sor."

"Then I must tell you, sir," said my father, "that though I have taken up land here and made it my home, I claim my rights as an Englishman not to make myself a traitor by taking up arms against my Queen."

"A thraitor!" cried the captain. "Bah! That for the Queen;" and he snapped his fingers. "But ye're not asked to serve now. That can wait till ye're wanted. It's the bhoy we want, and maybe after a bit it'll be you."

"My son thinks as I do," said my father sternly.

"Does he, now?" said the captain mockingly. "Then I shall have to tache him to think as I do, and it won't take long. D'ye hear me, bhoy?"

"I hear what you say, sir," I replied. "Of course I think as my father does, and I refuse to serve against England."

"I expected it," said the man, with cool insolence. "It's what I expected from a young Saxon. But look here, me bhoy; ye've got to serrve whether ye like it or whether ye don't. What's more, ye've got to come at once. So get yer horse, and clap the saddle on. Fetch him his rifle and his cartridge-bolt, and let there be no more nonsense."

"You heard what my son said, sir," said my father haughtily. "If it were against a black enemy of the country we should both be willing."

"Didn't I tell ye it was again' a black inimy?" said the man mockingly.

"I heard you insult the Queen and her Government, sir," said my father; "and, once more, my son refuses to serve."

"The coward!-the white-livered cub!" cried the captain contemptuously.

"What!" I cried, springing forward; but my father flung his hand across my chest, and Bob rushed in past Aunt Jenny, as if to take refuge from the scene.

"Quite right, old man," said the captain, coolly stroking his beard. "And look here, bhoy whether ye like it or not, ye're a sojer now; I'm yer shuperior officer, and it's time of war. If a man strikes his shuperior officer, he's stood up with a handkerchief tied across his eyes to prevent him from winking and spoiling the men's aim, and then the firing-party does the rest."

As he spoke he made a sign, and half-a-dozen of the mounted Boers rode up.

"Sargint," he said, "the young colt's a bit fractious. Ye'll take him in hand. Fasten his hands behind him ready. Two of ye go round to the pen there and pick out the most likely horse, saddle and bridle him, and bring him here. Ye've got some green-leather thongs. Then put him upon the horse with his face to the tail, and tie his ankles underneath. It'll be a fine lesson for the bhoy in rough-riding."

The men were quick enough. Before I had even thought of trying to make my escape, two of the Boers were off their horses and made me their prisoner, while the rest of the little troop rode closer up and surrounded us.

Then other two of the men rode off behind the house, and I stood breathing hard, biting my lips, and feeling as if something hot was burning my chest as I tried hard to catch my father's averted eyes.

Just then the Irish renegade captain burst into a hearty laugh, and I wrenched myself round to look, and felt better. A minute before, I had seen Bob disappear into the house, and had mentally denounced him as a miserable little coward; but my eyes flashed now as I saw him hurry out with three rifles over his right shoulder, a bandolier belt across his left, and two more, well filled with cartridges, hanging to the barrels of the rifles.

"Bedad!" said the captain, "and he's worth fifty of his big, hulking brother! But ye're too shmall, darlint. Wait a year or two longer, and ye shall fight under me like a man."

Bob made a rush for father; but one of the Boers leaned down and caught him by the shoulder, while another s.n.a.t.c.hed the rifles from his hands, and laid them across the pommel of the saddle in which he sat.

"Give up, Bob; give up," cried father sternly, as my brother began to struggle with all his might. "It is no use to fight against fate."

"Hear him now," said the captain. "He can talk sinse at times."

"Yes," said my father, "at times;" and he gave the captain a look which made him turn away his eyes.-"Val, my boy, I cannot have you exposed to the ignominy of being bound."

"Sure, no," cried the captain. "I forgot to say a wurrud about stirrup-leathers across his back if he didn't behave himself."

"Fate is against us for the present, my boy," continued my father, "and you must ride with this party till I have applied to the proper quarters to get the matter righted."

"Now, man, be aloive," said the captain, and I winced and looked vainly round for a way of escape; but I was seized by the wrist by another dismounted Boer, who slipped a raw-hide noose over my wrist, just as two more came riding back, leading my own horse, Sandho, between them. The poor beast, who followed me like a dog, uttered a shrill neigh as soon as he caught sight of me, springing forward to reach my side.

"Stop!" cried my father loudly; "there is no need for that. My son will ride with you, sir."

"Indade, sir, I'm obleeged to ye for the inforrmation," said the captain mockingly; "but sure it's a work of shupererrogation, me dear friend, for I knew it, and that he was going to ride backward. If, however, he gives up sinsibly, he may ride with his back to the horse's tail, and ye needn't tie his ankles togither. Have ye ever ridden that horse before?"

"He has ridden it hundreds of times, ever since it was a foal," said my father quickly, for I felt choked.-"Stop, man," he added angrily; "your captain said my son was not to be bound."

"Sure I didn't say a wurrud about his wrists, old man," cried the captain contemptuously. "Ye want too much. I've let him off about the ankles, and let him ride face forward, so be contint. Make his wrists fast behind him."

I was compelled to resign myself to my fate, and stood fighting hard to keep down all emotion while my wrists were secured firmly behind my back, the thin raw-hide cutting painfully into the flesh.

By this time Sandho was bridled and saddled, and just then my father turned to Bob.

"Take in those rifles, my boy," he said.