The Kopje Garrison Part 57

"You mean, sir, that you do not believe he is still alive."

"I don't know what to say, d.i.c.kenson," said the colonel, beginning to walk up and down the hut. "You have heard this ugly report?"

"Yes, sir; and I don't believe it."

"I cannot believe it," said the colonel; "but Captain Roby keeps on repeating it to the doctor and the major; while that man who was wounded, too, endorses all his captain says. It sounds monstrous."

"Don't believe it, sir," cried d.i.c.kenson excitedly.

"I have told you that I cannot believe it," said the colonel; "but Mr Lennox is missing, and it looks horribly corroborative of Roby's tale. There, go and find him-if you can. We can't add that to our other misfortunes; it would be a disgrace to us all."

"You mean, sir," said d.i.c.kenson coldly, "if Drew Lennox had-has-well, I suppose I must say it-run away?"

"Exactly."

"Well, sir, I don't feel in the least afraid. He is either a prisoner, lying badly wounded somewhere about the kopje, or-dead."

He said the last word in a husky tone, and then started violently.

"What is it, man?" cried the colonel excitedly, for the young officer seemed as if he were suffering from some violent spasm. "Are you hurt?"

"Something seemed to hurt me, sir," said the young man; "but it was only a thought."

"A thought?"

"Yes, sir," was the reply. "I was wondering whether it was possible."

"Whether what was possible?" said the colonel impatiently. "Don't speak in riddles, man."

"No, sir. It came like a flash. Suppose the poor fellow was somewhere near the spot where we exploded the ammunition?"

"Fancy," said the colonel coldly. "There must have been plenty of places round about the part you attacked without Lennox being there. There, lose no time; find him, and bring him back."

"He half believes that wretched story put about by Roby," said d.i.c.kenson to himself as he walked stiffly away, depressed in mind as well as body, and anything but fit for his journey, as he began to feel more and more. But he made an effort, stepped out boldly in spite of a sharp, catching pain, and answered briskly to the sentries' challenges as he pa.s.sed into the light shed by the lanterns here and there.

"Ready, sir?" said a voice suddenly.

"Yes; quite. The sooner we're off the better."

"The ponies are waiting, sir; and I've got the pa.s.sword, and know exactly where the outposts are if I can hit them off in the dark, for it's twice as black as it was last night."

"Then it will be a bad time for our search."

"Search, sir?" said the sergeant bluntly. "We're going to do no searching to-night."

"What!" cried d.i.c.kenson.

"It's impossible, sir. All we can do is to get as close as we can to the kopje and find out whether the enemy is still there. Then we must wait for daylight. If the place is clear, it will be all easy going; if the Boers are still there we must have a hasty ride round, if we can, before we are discovered."

"Very well," said d.i.c.kenson slowly as they walked on to the lines where the ponies were tethered, mounted, and went off at a walk, the sergeant and d.i.c.kenson side by side and the two men close behind; while the slight, cob-like Bechuana ponies upon which they were mounted seemed to need no guiding, but kept to the track which brought them again upon outposts, where their riders were challenged, gave the word, and then went steadily on at a walk right away across the open veldt.

"Ponies know their way, sir," said the sergeant after they had ridden about a mile. "I'll be bound to say, if we let them, they'll take us right by that patch of scrub where the enemy had his surprise, and then go straight away for the kopje."

"So much the better, sergeant," said d.i.c.kenson, who spoke unwillingly, his body full of pain as his mind was of thought.

"Will you give the order for us to load?"

"Load?" said d.i.c.kenson in a tone expressing his surprise. "Oh! of course;" and he gave the necessary command, taking the rifle handed to him by one of the men as they rode on. "I was thinking of our chances of finding the Boers out scouting. I suppose it is quite possible that we may run against a patrol."

"More than likely, sir. They'll be eager enough to find out some way of paying back what we gave them to-day."

"Of course, and-What does this mean?" whispered d.i.c.kenson, for his pony stopped short, as did the others, the sergeant's mount uttering a sharp, challenging neigh and beginning to fidget.

"Means danger, sir," whispered the sergeant. "We loaded none too soon."

There was nothing for it but to sit fast, peering into the wall of darkness that surrounded them, trying vainly to make out the approaching danger, every man listening intently. Fully ten minutes elapsed, and not a sound was heard. The ponies, well-trained by the Boers to stand, remained for a time perfectly motionless, till all at once, just as d.i.c.kenson was about to whisper to the sergeant that their mounts had probably only been startled by some wild animal of the desert, one of them impatiently stretched out its neck (drawing the hand holding the reins forward), snuffed at the earth, and began to crop at the stunted brush through which they were pa.s.sing. The others immediately followed suit, and, letting them have their own way, the party sat once more listening in vain.

Then came a surprise. All at once, from what d.i.c.kenson judged to be some fifty feet away, there was the peculiar ruff! ruff! ruff! ruff! of some one walking slowly through the low scrub, which there was not unlike walking over a heather-covered track.

"Stand," cried the lieutenant sharply, "or we fire."

"No. Hold hard," cried a familiar voice. "Who goes there? d.i.c.kenson, is that you?"

"Lennox! Thank Heaven!"

The steps quickened till he who made them came staggering up to the lieutenant's pony, at which he caught, but reached short, stumbled, and fell.

The sergeant was off his pony in a moment, handing the reins to a companion, and helping the lost man to rise.

"Are you all right?" said d.i.c.kenson excitedly as he reached down, felt for, and firmly grasped his friend's wet, cold hand.

"All right?" said Lennox bitterly. "Well, as all right as a man can be who was about to lie down utterly exhausted, when he heard your pony."

"But are you wounded?"

"No; only been nearly strangled and torn to pieces. But don't ask me questions. Water!" A water-bottle was handed to the poor fellow, and they heard him drink with avidity. Then ceasing for a short s.p.a.ce, he said, "I was just going to lie down and give it up, for I was completely lost." He began drinking again, and then, with a deep breath of relief: "Whose is this?"

"Mine, sir," said the sergeant, and he took the bottle from the trembling outstretched hand which offered it.

"Thankye, sergeant," sighed the exhausted man. "It does one good to hear your voice again. Are we far from Groenfontein?"

"About three miles," said d.i.c.kenson.

"Ah!" said Lennox, with a groan. "Then I can't do it."

"Yes, you can," said d.i.c.kenson warmly. "Here, hold on by the nag's mane while I dismount. We'll get you into the saddle, and walk the pony home."

"Excuse me, sir; I'm dismounted," said the sergeant, "and I'd rather walk, please."