Charge! Part 67

"I can't sleep," I said to myself, feeling that history was repeating itself, as I lay on my side in the lit-up wagon, with my wrists tied behind my back and my torture increased by having my legs served in the same way just above the ankles and again above the knees. "No one could sleep in such a position," I thought to myself; but I did not speak to my companion in misery. I was too weary and heart-sore, thinking that I should never see father, brother, aunt, or home again. "Poor old home is gone for ever," I remember, was the thought that occurred to me. Next I fell to wondering what had become of my people, and whether they had fled to Natal. Then my thoughts turned quickly to something else: to the heavy, regular breathing of Denham, who was fast asleep and suffering from a bad dream, for he began muttering angrily. Then he was silent, but only to begin again. I believed I knew the subject of his dream, for he suddenly exclaimed, "Coward-coward blow!" Then he was silent for a few minutes, breathing hard and fast as if his growing excitement had worked up to fierce pa.s.sion, for he was going over the scene of an hour ago, ending with "I'll kill you-or you shall kill me." He was suffering as if from a nightmare; and, unable to lie there listening, I managed to work myself along over the rough, cage-like bottom of the wagon till I could get my face close to his, just as he was panting and sobbing as if in a desperate encounter in which his strength was rapidly ebbing away.

"Denham!" I whispered. "Denham!"

"Ha!" he sighed softly, and ceased to struggle; while, as I lowered my head from the painful position into which I had strained it, I felt relieved to know that the poor, overwrought companion of my adventure could forget his sorrows for the time in sleep.

"I wish I could sleep, and never wake again; for when the time comes I shall be a coward"-such was the train of my thoughts. "Yes, I am sure to be a coward. One doesn't think of the bullets when one is fighting and they ping and whiz by one's head; but to stand up and face a row of rifles, waiting for the order to fire-I'm afraid I shall be a coward then."

I s.h.i.+vered now; and a minute later, as I listened to Denham's breathing, I s.h.i.+vered again. Perhaps it was from fear, perhaps it was from being cold, for the night wind, not far removed from freezing, blew up through the openings in the bottom of the wagon. I told myself it was from dread, and a peculiar feeling of shame and despair attacked me as the thought of what would occur on the coming morning rose up so vivid and clear that I strained my eyes round a little so as to look up at the hanging lantern, but lowered them again with a shudder, for I seemed to see a row of rifle-muzzles with the orifices directed down at me.

A noise occurred at the end of the wagon almost immediately, and upon looking back there was in reality the barrel of a rifle forcing back the canvas curtain, and then a second barrel appeared; but the owners only used their weapons to hold back the curtain while their big-bearded faces peered in to see if the prisoners were safe. They disappeared directly, and I could hear muttering, and could smell the fumes of their strong tobacco.

I was thinking with something like envy of the Boers' lot as compared with mine, and the envy had to do with Denham, who was sleeping soundly; and then something happened-the something which I had thought impossible; but it was quite true. I was staring painfully up at the lantern which shed its yellowish glow all around, and then it seemed to have gone out, and I was fast asleep, with the restful sensation which comes of utter exhaustion. I dreamed, and it was of home and the beautiful orchard I had helped to plant, of driving in the cattle, of chasing the ostriches over the veldt; and then it was of having Bob and Denham with me in a wagon, for we were after lions. It was night, and the moon shone in through the front of the wagon with a yellowish light like that of a lantern hanging from the top of the tilt. The wind was blowing up icily through the bottom, and I had just been awakened by the distant deep barking roar of one of the great sand-coloured brutes. His roar had startled our oxen and made them low uneasily, as if they knew what the fate of one of them would be unless a flash of fire came from beneath the wagon-tilt just as the lion had crawled up and gathered himself together for a spring. The night was very cold, and somehow the thought occurred to me that it would be a good thing if that lion made a bound right on to the wagon-box, and then jumped in to seize me and carry me off as a cat does a rat; and when its roar sounded again, nearer, all dread and pain died out, for it seemed as if it would be far better to be killed by a lion than to stand up before the muzzles of a dozen rifles and be shot as a spy, while Moriarty stood smiling malignantly at my fate. It was all very vivid as the oxen bellowed softly now, and Bob whispered into my ear, his breath feeling quite hot after the chilling iciness of the night wind. "Cheer up, old Val," he said; "they won't dare to shoot you. I shall be there, and if they attempt it, and that Irishman gives the order-you know how true I can aim? I'll send a bullet right through his head, if father isn't first."

I started violently and made an effort to rise; but I only succeeded in making a noise, as I looked up, to see the yellow lantern sending down its feeble light; but a lion was barking faintly in the distance, and some oxen close at hand were lowing uneasily. There was another sound, too, at the back of the wagon-that of some one climbing up-and in a wild fit of anxiety I listened for Bob's voice again. But it was only that of the Boer who had first seized me, and he spoke in a gruff but not unkindly way, as he said in his own tongue:

"Hullo! What's the matter? Lion scare you?"

"I've-I've been dreaming," I faltered heavily, my heart beating all the time with big, regular thumps.

"Oh!-He's dreaming too. You're two brave boys to sleep like that the night before you're both to be shot for spies."

"Ah!" I sighed as he dropped back heavily from the back of the wagon, "and it was all a dream. Ugh!" I shuddered. I lay still again, my mind going over the fantasy of the night, which came back so vividly, yet was so strangely mixed and absurd; but all the time Denham slept on, breathing heavily, dead to all the sorrows and horror of our unlucky situation.

The night was cold-bitterly cold-and I was dreadfully wide awake, wis.h.i.+ng now that I could sleep again, but wis.h.i.+ng in vain. I lay and listened to the sound of talking outside, two of the Boers engaging in a conversation in which I heard the word "cold." Then there came the sound of the drawing aside of the back curtains, and a big, soft bundle was pitched in, then another. Directly afterwards two of our guard climbed in, opened one of the bundles, and spread it out on the floor beyond us. It was a great skin karosse, or rug, such as the Kaffirs make up of the hides of the big game.

"It's a cold night," said the man who had spoken before; and, one at my head and the other at my feet, they lifted me between them on the big rug.

"Now, sleepy," he said, "rouse up."

But Denham was perfectly insensible in his deep sleep of exhaustion, and unconscious of what was going on as he was laid beside me. Then the second bundle was opened and thrown over us.

"There," said the big Boer; "we don't want you to be too cold to stand up like men in the morning. Can you go to sleep now?"

"Yes; thank you," I said hoa.r.s.ely, and I lay and listened as they got out of the wagon.

"Can I sleep?" I thought. "No. But if I could, and dream all that again! Poor old Bob!" I murmured to myself as a peculiar sensation of warmth began to creep through my numbed limbs, and once more I lay thinking about that strangely confused and realistic dream of which fragments began to flit before me, and for a time made me more wakeful, but not for long. Then the morning, the thoughts of my coming fate, the recollection of the night-alarm which seemed to have put an end to what must have been intended for a night-attack, even the sense of pain-all these died away, and I was soundly asleep once more; this time without a dream.

Chapter Forty Four.

In the Queer Prison.

I was roused up by the great skin-rug being jerked off me. I tried to rise, but sank back, just able to repress a groan, and stared wildly at the four bearded faces looking down at me. The curtains at front and rear had been thrown back, and the sun was s.h.i.+ning in from the front, the horizontal rays striking right through the wagon. For a few moments I was so much confused and stupefied by sleep that I could not grasp the meaning of the scene. Then like a flash it all came. These four Boers were going to lead us out to execution-to be shot-the fate of spies!

I set my teeth, and felt as if getting hardened now. My eyes turned to Denham, who was seeking mine. He did not speak, but nodded and smiled faintly, the look giving encouragement. Clenching my teeth, together, I mentally vowed I would not let him be ashamed of me.

Just then my attention was diverted by one of our morning visitors, who differed in appearance from the others. He was better dressed, wore his hair short, and his moustache and beard were clipped into points. His hands, which he laid upon my shoulders, were white. To my surprise, this man examined my head, with its bandages and traces of injuries. Then he looked hard in my eyes, and turned me a little over to examine my tightly-bound wrists and ankles. Next he examined Denham in the same way, my comrade gazing straight away, with his brow knit and lips tightened into a thin red line, but he never once glanced at the examiner.

"Well," said the latter, rising from one knee, "even if they are spies, you need not treat them as if they were wild beasts."

"Captain Moriarty's orders," said the Boer, whom I recognised as my captor of the previous night.

"Bah!" growled the other angrily. "You are soldiers now; act like them."

I was listening with a feeling of grat.i.tude that this man spoke differently from the others, and he saw my eyes fixed upon him.

"Do you speak German?" he asked sharply.

"No," I replied; "but I understood you just now."

He nodded, and then turned to the others to speak in a low tone. The result of this was that two of the men knelt down and set our arms free, placing them before us, for they were perfectly numb and dead. Mine looked as if the thongs had cut almost to the bone, the muscle having swollen greatly.

The party then went out at the back; but my captor, who was last, turned back and said:

"There are two sentries with loaded rifles at each end, and they have orders to fire."

"What did he say, Val?" asked Denham as soon as we were alone.

I told him, and he laughed softly.

"What is it?" I said wonderingly.

"I was only thinking," he replied. Then quickly, "Will they bind our hands again-at the last?"

"I don't know," I said in a low, husky voice. "Perhaps not."

"Let's hope not; and we must rub some feeling into them first."

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"Don't you know, old fellow? Guess."

I shook my head.

"Well, it is hard work; but look here: they didn't search us last night, only tied us hand and foot. We've got our revolvers inside our s.h.i.+rts. Let's have one shot each at Moriarty before we die."

I looked at him wonderingly, for the vivid dream of the night came back, and my brother's words seemed to be thrilling hotly in my ear once more.

Denham looked at me curiously.

"Well," he said, "wouldn't you like to shoot the wretch?"

"No," I said; "not now. If we are to die I don't want to try to kill any more."

Denham frowned, and sat gently rubbing his wrists. I followed his example during nearly an hour. While thus employed we could hear a good deal of bustle and noise going on in the neighbourhood of the wagon, and sundry odours which floated in suggested that the Boers in camp did not starve themselves. Meanwhile we were very silent and thoughtful, expecting that at any moment we might be summoned to meet our fate.

At last there was the sound of approaching steps, and I drew my breath hard as an order was given to halt, followed by the rattle of rifles being grounded.