In the Whirl of the Rising Part 30

"This is a fresh crowd," he cried. "Those who tackled us first hadn't a gun among them."

Then, from among the gra.s.s and bushes, dark forms arose, and the spurt of smoke and the 'whigge' of great clumsy missiles accompanied the appearance of each. But there were cool heads and fine shots among those white men, and the dusky barbarian found in a surprisingly short s.p.a.ce of time that even momentary exposure meant almost certain death.

Moreover, from the hurry and flurry of it, all untrained to quick shooting as he was, he could take no aim, and sent his bullet humming away harmlessly to high heaven. Fortunately, too, the outfit had got beyond the valley, and here in the open ground there was no elevated point of vantage whence it could be raked.

Yet the situation was becoming serious. Heartened by their reinforcement, and the moral effect of knowing that they, too, were returning the fire of the Amakiwa, though as yet harmlessly, the original attacking force was pressing forward under cover of the firing and confusion, swarming up stealthily in the bush and long gra.s.s, preparing for a final and decisive rush. But somehow that rush never quite came off. The fire of those cool, experienced whites was too determined, too hot, too deadly. Moving with judgment and rapidity, the mounted men would dart right up to any ma.s.sing of the dark crowd, and pouring their fire literally into their faces would break up any attempt at an organised charge. But they did not come off unscathed. Three were wounded at close quarters, two had their horses stabbed right under them, but with unfailing cool-headedness and magnificent valour these were kept from falling into the hands of the savages.

For half an hour this continued, and indeed it seemed as though some supernatural power was aiding that mere handful of men against swarming odds, as with brain dizzy and the whole world seeming to grow glistening leaping bodies and gleaming blades and great waving s.h.i.+elds, the air to buzz with the vibrating war-hiss--that handful fought its way step by step.

The red sun had just touched the far skyline when the a.s.sailants slackened, then drew off, and there--not half a mile distant--rose the substantial stockade of the Kezane Store. A ringing cheer went up, and even the played-out mules snuffed the air and p.r.i.c.ked up their ears, and pulled forward with a will.

The long, hard, running fight--valiantly fought--was over, and there in front lay rest and safety--for a time.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

THE KEZANE STORE.

The Kezane Store--shop, inn, farm, posting-stables rolled into one--was almost a small fort, in that its buildings were enclosed within a stout stockade of mopani poles. This is exactly as its owner intended it should be; and now the said owner--an elderly German who had served in the Franco-Prussian war--came forth, together with three other white men, to welcome the party.

"_Ach_! dot was very exciting," he said. "We was hearing the fight--for the last hour--coming nearer and nearer. We was not able to help outside, only four of us, but we was ready to shoot from here if the Matabele had come near enough."

The excitement of the men was now fairly let loose, and everybody seemed to be talking at once; fighting the battle over again in bulk, or recounting individual experiences. The surviving half of the handful of police were more subdued--the recollection of five dead comrades left behind on the road having something to do with it.

"Good old Grunberger," sang out Jim Steele. "You ought to have been with us, a jolly old soldier like you. You'd have been a tiger."

"_Ach_! I do not know," replied the old German quite flattered. "Now, chentlemen, you will all come and haf some drinks wit me. Wit me, you understand."

"Good for you, Grunberger," said Peters. "But we can't leave everything entirely without a guard. Why, they might come on again at any moment.

Who'll volunteer for first guard?"

There was perforce no actual discipline among this scratch corps, and the speaker, or even Lamont himself, had no power to enforce obedience to any single order they might issue. But these men had gone through a splendid experience together. Quite half of them had never before seen a life taken, or a shot fired in anger, in their lives; yet when put to it they had made a gallant running fight, against tremendous odds, with judgment and pluck such as no similar number of trained soldiers could have excelled them in. They had succeeded in their object, and had succeeded brilliantly, and the glow of satisfaction which this inspired was heightened by the absolute certainty that had they overtaken the mule-waggon ten minutes later their arrival would have been too late.

All this had implanted in them an instinctive soldierly spirit, and not a man there would have dreamed of questioning an order issued by Lamont, or even Peters. Yet the latter now invited some of them to 'volunteer.'

The whole corps responded.

"Half a dozen 'll do," was the answer, and those who seemed the most willing were duly told off. The while the ladies were being looked after by the storekeeper's wife.

Lamont was helping to look after the wounded. Fortunately, among the three men who found themselves at Kezane when they arrived was a young doctor from Buluwayo; and his services being readily and skilfully given, there was no cause whatever for anxiety on the part of these less lucky ones.

"Where's the captain?" sang out Jim Steele, as the residue of the corps were doing full and jovial justice to the hospitable German's invitation. "We must have the captain. We want to drink his jolly good health. Here it is. Here's to Captain Lamont, and ripping good luck to him."

The toast was drunk with a roar of cheering.

"He's helping look after the wounded," said Peters. "There's a doctor here luckily, and he's having them seen to all right."

A sort of compunctious silence fell upon the others at this announcement. Here they were, refres.h.i.+ng and making merry and enjoying themselves, while the man who had led them, and taken a tiger's share in the fight, had gone straight away to care for their wounded comrades.

"Chaps," said Jim Steele shortly, "we are sweeps. D'you hear? Sweeps."

"It's all right, Jim," said Peters. "Lamont told me to look after you all, even apart from Grunberger's jolly hospitable invitation. Don't you bother about him."

"Bother about him?" echoed Jim Steele. "But that's just what we're going to do. We must have him here and drink his jolly good health.

This time it'll be my round, boys, and we're going to do it with musical honours. So, Peters, cut away and rout him out, like the good chap you are."

Peters, nothing loth, went out. He found Lamont just coming out of the house, having seen the wounded men made as snug and comfortable as they could be under the circ.u.mstances. Indeed, he had been giving the doctor actual aid with his own hands, in one case where an amputation had been necessary.

"Certainly I'll come, Peters," he said. "I want to thank these fellows for coming with me when I asked them. Heavens! to think what would have happened if they'd hung back, for you and I would have been nowhere against such odds. But--it won't bear thinking about."

A huge cheer greeted his entrance. All hands were awaiting him, gla.s.ses ready. A gigantic tumbler of whisky-and-soda was thrust into his hand by Jim Steele.

"Toss that down first, captain," said that worthy. "You've had nothing yet."

Lamont, entering into the fun of the thing, complied. Then Jim Steele went on--

"Boys, I'm going to give you the health of our captain, the biggest tiger in a fight any fellow could wish to find himself alongside of--"

The vociferous chorus of 'Hear--hear!' having subsided, he went on--

"But before doing that, I want to apologise to him--yes, to apologise, and I don't know how to do it quite low enough. The day of the race meeting I insulted you, captain. I called you a coward. A coward I think of that, boys, after what we've seen to-day. Well, now I want to say you may kick me--now, in front of everyone here, and I won't move.

So, go ahead."

"Oh, stow that, Jim Steele," interrupted Lamont, "and don't make a silly a.s.s of yourself. You were a little bit screwed, you know, and didn't know what the devil you were saying." Here the listeners roared.

"Don't you imagine I've given that another thought, because I haven't.

And calling a man anything doesn't make him so. We'll rub out that little disagreement right here."

He put out his hand, and the next moment almost wished he hadn't, when Jim Steele was doing his best to wring it off. The cheering was wildly renewed.

"Boys," went on the latter, raising his gla.s.s. "Here's Captain Lamont, and his jolly good health. And if he'll raise a corps to take the veldt and help straighten out this racket, I'm going to be the first man to join. I don't suppose there's a man jack in this room that won't join.

Is there?"

"No--no."

The answer was an enthusiastic roar. And as they drank his health they struck up the usual chorus under the circ.u.mstances--'For he's a jolly good fellow'--until the room rang again. And if the watchful savage was crawling about the dark veldt outside, in a scouting capacity--and who shall say he was not--he must have decided that Makiwa was singing war-songs with extraordinary go and zest--not to say indulging in a _Tyay'igama_ dance [see note], by way of celebrating his victory.

Then Lamont made a little speech. He thanked them for responding so readily to his call for volunteers, but he knew that they would thank themselves for the rest of their lives that it had been given to them to be the means of averting the horrible tragedy they _had_ been the means of averting. The whole country now was up in arms. These savages spared neither age nor s.e.x, he had already seen enough--and Peters would bear him out there--to prove that. Probably they would hear of more and similar ma.s.sacres elsewhere before long, but at any rate he, for one, was going to help the country in which he had lived since its opening up--to help it to the best of his ability; and whether they served with him or not he hoped and believed every man jack in that room was going to do the same.

As for himself, Jim Steele had been good enough to emphasise anything he might have done, but exactly the same and more might be said of every man who had fought that day in defence of their two fellow-countrywomen, and of none more than of Wyndham, who although he had had no opportunity of firing a shot at the would-be woman-slayers, had none the less by his coolness and skill contributed to the safety of the party as thoroughly as though he had shot a score of Matabele with his own hand.

Wyndham had just come in, and a shout of cheering greeted his appearance at these words. When this had abated Lamont went on.

They were not out of the wood yet, he said. They had either got to wait here until relieved or take the ladies back to Gandela themselves, and he himself favoured the first plan. Were they alone they would reckon it part of the day's work to fight their way, if necessary, to whatever point at which their services were most required. But the events of the afternoon had shown they were an inadequate force for escort purposes, though providentially they had been brought through that time. Again, he repeated, he could not claim to have done more than any other man who was with him, where all did so well; and to the end of his days, be they many or few, one of the proudest recollections of his life would be that of the couple of dozen or so of men who fought side by side with him, against tremendous odds, to save their fellow-countrywomen from falling into the barbarous hands of murderous and treacherous savages.

Roars of cheers greeted the closing of this speech; and then they fell to the discussion of Jim Steele's notion. For the idea had caught on.

It was determined that those who had fought that day should form the nucleus of a corps to take the field under Lamont and Peters, and that the said corps should be known as Lamont's Tigers.

"Dat is a goot name," said Grunberger, nodding his head approvingly.

"We will now drink de health of Lamont's Tigers. Chentlemen, name your drinks."

This announcement was received with great applause. Then, paper and pen having been requisitioned, every man there put down his name, pledging himself to serve in the corps and also to do all he could to induce desirable men to join it too.