Charge! Part 56

"Yes," said Denham, with his eyes flas.h.i.+ng. "Plenty of prime beef and good fresh water, Briggs; but scarcely any cartridges."

"That's right, sir; and so I took the liberty, when I got a chance, of saying a word to the Colonel."

"What about?"

"The Doppies' ammunition-wagons, sir."

"Ah!" cried Denham, rising to his elbow. "I ventured to say, sir, that the young officer as brought in our supply of provisions would have laid himself flat down on the top o' the wall and watched with his gla.s.s till he had made out where the best spot was, and then after dark he'd have gone out and made a try to capture one of the ammunition-wagons, and brought it in."

"Impossible, Sergeant," said Denham.

"Bah! That word isn't in a soldier's dictionary, sir. You'd have done it if you'd been well enough."

"But the cartridges mightn't fit our rifles, Sergeant."

"Mightn't, sir; but they might. Then, if the first lot didn't, you'd have gone again and again till you had got the right sort. If none of 'em was the right sort, why, you'd ha' said, 'There's more ways of killing a cat than hanging it,' and gone on another plan."

"What other plan?" I said sharply. "There is no other plan."

"Isn't there?" said the Sergeant, grinning. "They've got one wagon that I can swear to, having made it out through the gla.s.s Mr Denham lent me, full of spare rifles of the men put out of action."

"Of course, of course," cried Denham. "Oh dear! oh dear!" he groaned, falling back again with a pitiful look in his eyes. "I'm lying here, completely done for. Why can't that doctor put us right?"

The Sergeant smoked on for a few minutes, looking fiercer than ever.

"Where's Sam Wren, sir?" he said suddenly.

"He was fretting so much last night at being kept in hospital," I replied, "that the doctor said he might rejoin his troop."

"Glad of that. He's one of our best shots. But what's gone of your blacky, Mr Moray?"

"Joeboy? I don't know," I said. "Isn't he with the horses? Oh, of course he'd be looking after mine."

"He ain't, then," said the Sergeant.

"What!" I cried excitedly; "then what about my horse? I've been lying here thinking of nothing but myself. I ought to have seen to him."

"Couldn't," said the Sergeant dryly. "But he's all right."

"Are you sure?" I cried.

The Sergeant nodded. "I saw to him myself. I like that horse."

"Oh Sergeant!" I said, with a feeling of relief. "But what about Joeboy? I did wonder once why he had not been to see me."

"I didn't look after him, sir," said the Sergeant. "He's a sort of free-lancer, and not under orders."

"But when did you see him last?" I asked.

"Well, I'm a bit puzzled about that. I say, hear that?"

"Hear them? Yes, of course," said Denham angrily. "The brutes! The cowards! Oh, if I were only well!"

"Oh, let 'em alone, sir," said the Sergeant coolly as, beginning with a few scattered shots, the firing outside had rapidly increased. "They're doing no harm. Do you know what it is?"

"Our poor fellows exposing themselves thoughtlessly, I suppose," said Denham bitterly.

"Only their hats, sir. It's about the only pleasure the poor lads have. It's a game they have for pennies. Some one invented it yesterday. Six of 'em play, and put on a penny each. Each game lasts five minutes, and the players put their hats upon the top of a stone. Then the man who has most bullets through his hat takes the pool."

"What folly!" said Denham fretfully.

"Well, as I told them, sir, it isn't good for their hats; but, as they said, it wastes the Doppies' cartridges, and pleases the lads to make fools of 'em. You can hear them cheer sometimes when a hat is suddenly pulled down. They think they've killed a man-bless 'em! They're very nice people."

"But, Sergeant, you were telling me about Joeboy," I said. "Can't you think when you saw him last?"

"Not exactly. I've been trying to think it out, because I expected you'd be asking about him. It strikes me that the last I saw of him was the night I was going the rounds after the search for that Irish prisoner. Perhaps he's tired of being shut up?"

"No," I said emphatically.

"Those blacks are men who are very fond of running wild."

"Joeboy wouldn't forsake me, Sergeant," I said impressively.

"Perhaps you're right. He always did seem very fond of you-never happy unless he was at your heels; but he hasn't been hanging about the hospital, you see. It looks like as if that Irishman had given him a crack on the head too, and pitched him down one of the mine-holes."

"Oh no; horrible!" I said.

"Glad you take it that way," said Briggs grimly, "because it would be bad for the water. Well, there's only two other things I can think of just now. One's that he might have been shot by the enemy when driving in the cattle."

"Is it possible?" I said, in alarm.

"Well, yes, it's possible," said the Sergeant; "but I didn't hear any one hint at such a thing happening."

"Oh, surely the poor fellow hasn't come to his end like that! Here, what was your other idea?"

"I thought that, being a keen, watchful sort of fellow, perhaps he might have caught sight of our prisoner escaping."

"Ah!" I e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

"Yes; and knowing what I do of my gentleman, it seemed likely that he might have followed him just to see that he didn't get into more mischief, particularly if he saw him upset you two."

"No, no; he couldn't. We saw no sign of him," I said excitedly.-"Did you, Denham?"

"Who could see a fellow like that in the dark?" cried Denham peevishly.

"It is possible that, knowing what he did of Moriarty's treatment of me, he may have felt that he had a kind of feud with him, and watched him."

"For a chance to say something to him with one of those spears he carried," said Denham, suddenly growing interested in our remarks.