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Camp Fire Yarns of the Lost Legion Part 7

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I had not the least fear, bar accidents, of their being able to catch me by riding me down, as my hard-fed, splendid-conditioned horse for pace and staying powers was far and away superior to their half-starved, gra.s.s-fed nags; and even if they had a good animal or two, looted from settlers, among them, yet these would have so deteriorated in their brutal hands as to be quite unfit to cope with my gallant mount; besides, in a long chase, like this might be, riding and handling would count a lot, and even if one or two did press me I could back my carbine against their guns, as a Maori is a vile shot.

All these thoughts pa.s.sed through my brain during the few minutes I was galloping along the gully and gradually ascending to the level of the plain. But Bobby Burns speaks the truth when he remarks that the schemes of both mice and men are liable to go crooked; for my hastily and maybe well-thought-out plan was all blown to blue blazes the moment I emerged from the gully, as it was all I could do to swing my horse to the right to prevent riding slap-bang into a big gang of Maoris, some of whom were mounted.

This party were making for the entry I had just left, for as I shot out of it the nearest of them was within ten yards of me. They straggled in a diagonal line, about 100 yards long, across to what was evidently the outlet to another gully, as in the hurried glance I took of them I saw a horseman emerging as if from the ground. The presence of these bounders, although not exactly astonis.h.i.+ng, was most undesirable, and I sent my horse along, so as to escape nearer acquaintance with them; nor did they seem to be quite pleased with me, as they all started yelling like fiends, and those who carried their fire-locks capped at once fired them off in my direction, while with one accord they all began to chase me.

It was high time for me to get out of that, but my horse's pace soon carried me clear out of gun-shot danger, and I quickly edged away to my left to try and find, when I reached the gully, which I knew must be close in that direction, a crossing-place, so that I could get round the enemy's flank and still carry out my duty. One thing I was sure of, the Hau Haus would never give up the pursuit so long as there was the ghost of a chance of catching me.

As I expected, I soon came to a ravine running east, towards the river, and at the first glance saw that it was a teaser. Over twenty feet in depth, its sides, composed of hard pumice-stone, were quite perpendicular and unnegotiable, even by a monkey. I therefore had to continue along the brink, while a loud, jeering yell made me understand that the natives well knew there was no possibility of my being able to cross it. I was annoyed, more than annoyed, and I determined to solace myself by picking off one of the hilarious bounders, but decided first of all to try the other flank. Letting my horse go, I again crossed, diagonally, the enemy's front, only to find myself, after a gallop of not more than 400 yards, brought up by a similar gully. Again the jeering yell broke out, and I knew I was cornered between these infernal ravines and the Waikato River.

 

I halted and turned so as to take a good look at the pursuing Hau Haus, and determined to make it hot for the leading man, but was sold again, as I found they had extended in line between the two ravines.

They were over a hundred in number, including at least forty mounted men, these latter being scattered among the footmen, with the exception of some eight or ten, who rode together about a hundred yards in rear of the line, with the evident intention of strengthening any part of it, should I charge and try to break through. This for a moment I thought of doing, but on looking towards the spots where the only two outlets I knew of were situated, I saw clumps of men stationed at them, so I was convinced it was no use charging, at least not at this period of the game.

The deliberate way the Hau Haus were advancing showed me that they knew it was impossible for me to break away to either flank, and that they were systematically going to pen me up against the river and try to capture me alive. This I determined they should not do; somehow I was convinced that my day had not yet come, and I had such an inner conviction I was going to wriggle out of my sc.r.a.pe that I felt quite easy about myself and only anxious about my horse.

The moment I halted the enemy began to poke fun at me. One shouted: "Get fins, like a fish, for yourself and horse, then swim the river."

Another wag roared out: "Grow wings like a pigeon and fly back to your home." This was advice which, although not solicited, could scarcely be called rude. But another ribald ruffian was not only rude but grossly personal, for, running out in front of the line, he howled out, with the most insulting gestures: "Render yourself up to us; the women are making ready the ovens, and I hunger for your flesh."

I shouted back, and my voice carried far in those days: "You whose head is fit to be boiled" (the most awful insult in the Maori tongue), "thou at least shalt not partake of the feast; go feed on the spirits of your fathers." The old sneider carbine, though laughed at nowadays, was true up to 300 yards, and the Maori was not more than 200 yards from me. He had just begun to make some nasty, uncalled-for remarks when I proved the correctness of my prophecy to him, by dropping him in his tracks, thereby cutting short what might have been a most eloquent oration.

A wild yell with a wilder volley answered my shot, and the line made a kokiri (short charge) in my direction. I only lingered long enough to shout in Maori, "I have caught the first man" (a most important and lucky omen in Maori warfare), then turned and cantered away out of rifle-range, as it would never do to have my horse wounded.

It was high time I should put on my considering cap and think out the situation and my future movements. It would have been far more to my advantage had they followed me in a straggling mob, as then I could have picked off the leaders, and it would have denoted anxiety, on their part, lest I should find some possible crossing by which I could escape; but the quiet, methodical way they were going about their business showed me that they considered my chance of getting away was nil, and that they had made up their minds to risk nothing, that the gullies could not be crossed, so that their intention was to drive me before them to the river's bank, and hive me there at their own convenience, the river being uncrossable.

But halt! Was the river uncrossable? I knew it to be a very dangerous one, even for such swimmers as my horse and self, who together had crossed many a bad river before; but I was also aware that the natives' great dread of it was caused by superst.i.tious nervousness, just as much as it was caused by its actual dangers. Of course there were very many parts of it quite impossible, but perhaps I might find a place where a determined attempt would have a chance of success.

Anyhow I would go and have a look at it.

The river was not more than three miles from me and I cantered steadily towards it, so as not to tire my horse, but still give me time to examine the banks and select the best places to enter, and get out of it, provided I should make up my mind to risk the crossing.

It did not take me long to reach the bank, and I rode along it from one gully to the other. Both of these ran down to the water's edge, and the bank of the river near both of them was fully twenty feet high, and perpendicular; but half-way between them was a natural depression in the plain, that ran at a gentle slope down to the bank, where it was only four or five feet above the water, which was very deep right up to the bank. This depression slanted upstream, a point in my favour, and this was evidently the place I must take-off from.

The river was indeed a n.o.ble one, quite 200 yards broad, and evidently of great depth. Its enormous volume of water, forcing itself along, confined by the high banks, reminded me of a big fat boy b.u.t.toned up tight in a suit of clothes far too small for him, wriggling and writhing about, trying to make them more comfortable.

I next turned my attention to the other side, to see if I could spot a place up which we could scramble. The far bank, though lower than the one I was on, was still very steep, and I knew there must be a great depth of water under it; but some 200 yards downstream the land ran out to a point, and there was just the possibility of my horse finding footing there. The current also seemed to set from my side of the river towards this point, and if so it would help me enormously. I tested this by tearing off a branch from a bush and throwing it in, when I saw it rapidly swept towards the spot I hoped to make. The rate at which it was carried also gave me some idea of the tremendous rush of water, the surface of which seemed to writhe and winkle as if in mortal anguish, while the numerous whirlpools informed me what a furious undertow there must be.

Great was the risk we should run in attempting to cross, yet under the circ.u.mstances I determined to run it. I felt certain I was not going under that day, and anyhow a clean death in the sweet, cool water of the river was far preferable to being turned into long pig by my brutal pursuers. Then again they might kill my horse and catch me with sufficient life remaining in me to make it worth their trouble to torture it out of me. No fear, I wanted none of that; the river was my dart, especially as my old nurse had always a.s.sured me of quite another kind of death than drowning, and, sure, she was known in my part of the world as a knowledgable woman.

The few minutes I had sat and watched the stream at the taking-off place, I had talked to and explained matters to my glorious horse.

What's that you say? a horse can't understand you? Rot! you taxi-cab, motor-busing new chum. A horse you have treated as a pal, and not as a slave, will understand any simple matter you explain to him, far better than the ordinary Englishman can understand the beauties of tariff reform. Bear that in mind, you mud-splas.h.i.+ng, dust-creating greenhorn, if you ever want to become worth your salt on the frontier.

Anyhow, my horse understood me, and I rode up to the plain again.

The Hau Haus were not far off, and when they saw me regain the level they evidently thought I had funked the river and was going to try to escape on terra firma, for they saluted me with loud laughter and jeers. Unbuckling my wallet straps, for I had them on my saddle, although I had left the wallets themselves behind me, I carefully fastened my carbine across the pommel of the saddle and also crossed the stirrups. Then, as a farewell to my pursuers, I shouted: "O ye slaves and dogs, I go to bathe in the Waikato; come with me, if ye be not afraid." I turned my horse and, gripping my saddle, with thighs and legs like a vice, I started at a canter down the slope, increasing my pace and urging him on with my voice, until at last we charged the river at full gallop. The n.o.ble animal knew well what I expected from him, for as soon as I gave him his head he pointed his ears and, gathering himself together at every bound, without a swerve, the slightest balk, or the least hesitation, measured his take-off to a nicety, and leaped far out into the air. I was quite prepared for the plunge. I had twisted my hand well into his mane, and had taken a deep breath as we made the spring. I felt the rush through the air, and saw the s.h.i.+ning water below us, that seemed to rise and meet us, but I felt no shock; for although we must have raised the deuce of a splash, and must have sunk somewhat, yet we seemed to come to the surface immediately, and the first sensation I noticed was the current tugging at me, as if trying to pull me out of my saddle.

We had taken the water exactly as I hoped we should do--that is, with the horse's head turned well upstream--so that the tremendous force of the current, although it swept us rapidly downstream, yet carried us diagonally across it. My horse was swimming deep but magnificently, and was not a bit flurried or nervous, and although the current kept tugging at me I had small trouble in retaining my seat, while I eased him in every way I could, talking to him and encouraging him the whole pa.s.sage. The crossing seemed to take but a very short time, and I saw we should reach the bank above the point. I was very glad of this, as the current ran round the point like a mill sluice, and I did not know how it set on the other side, or what sort of a bank there was round it. We neared the sh.o.r.e, and I turned the good nag's head towards it, for him to make his effort, but feared the water would be too deep, as although the bank sloped, yet from the water it looked very, very steep. Just as we reached it I felt the n.o.ble animal give a tremendous heave, with a mighty rearing plunge; his hind feet must have touched bottom, for he landed with both fore feet on the bank. Like a flash I was over his withers, taking the reins with me, and scrambled to my feet on the slope. It was with difficulty I could keep my footing, but I managed somehow, and, tugging at the reins, I shouted his name and encouraged him all I knew. Gathering himself together, he made another tremendous spring and, with me scrambling in front of him, in a few bounds he reached the top, where I lavished much praise and many endearments on him, these being cut short by the song of an Enfield bullet as it whistled over us; so I led him under cover, loosed his girths, unbuckled my carbine and returned at once to the bank. We had crossed, they might try, and as I had had more of their company than I desired, I intended my carbine to dissuade them; I examined its breech and found that, notwithstanding its bath, it was in good working order, so that was all right. My appearance was greeted with yells, a straggling volley and a frantic war-dance. I never lack in politeness, so, to return their compliments, I danced a step or two myself, shouting, "Come to me, come to me"; then, dropping to a p.r.o.ne position, I took careful aim at a Johnny who was executing a _pas seul_. My shot spoiled his performance, for he sat down suddenly and was quickly removed by his friends.

I have heard that actors retire gracefully from the stage when the G.o.ds express their disapproval by heaving defunct cats and doubtful eggs at them, but I should think they would greatly expedite their movements if a man opened out with a carbine. Yes, they would quickly leave a clear stage; at least it was so in this case, as the company I disapproved of, cutting their dances short, dispersed in a moment, taking their wounded man with them, and hastened in their exits by two more bullets, both of which, I fancy, touched meat.

The Hau Haus having retired, I returned to my horse, removed the saddle and gave him a good rub-down with a handful of fern; then we lunched together. His oats were none the worse for their ducking, while my biscuits, if pulpy, were palatable, and we enjoyed them. The sun quickly dried me and we made for home. There was no chance of reaching the Rat's Tooth from the side I was on; besides, I considered it my duty to inform my colonel of the presence of the Maoris. Another thing, what were they doing there? I suspected they had large plantations of potatoes in that bush, and that when they blundered up against me they were on their way to dig them up and had brought their horses to carry them away on. If my conjectures were right, I now knew where to find them.

After a hard, scrambling journey over fern ridges we reached the fort, and I reported to the colonel, who babbled a bit at my failure to complete my duty, but was quite pacified when I told him my conjectures about the potatoes. He was not an Irishman, true, but he dearly loved a spud, and if my ideas about them turned out correct, the capture of these potatoes would be of enormous value to us, as the Government were at their wits' end how to keep us and our horses supplied with rations, while the loss of them, to the enemy, would be very severe.

That night a strong force, on foot, under my guidance, crossed the river and made for the big gully where I had first seen the spoor. We made a smart night's march, hoping to surprise the enemy and catch them on the hop. In that we failed, their outposts being well on the alert; but in the ensuing skirmish we killed a few of them, captured all their horses and an immense quant.i.ty of potatoes, large numbers of these having been already dug up and packed ready for transport, so that my friends the Hau Haus had worked hard for nothing, except our benefit, and I felt very pleased. Was I spiteful? I wonder.

But somehow, now I have spun the yarn out, something seems to have gone wrong with it; for when I come to look at the heading it distinctly states that the tale is to be a yarn about the Scout that Failed. And now I come to think it over, I was really not scouting at all, but only trying to open communications with another column, though to do that is certainly the work of a scout, and I moreover was a scout, but yet I was not scouting. Then as to Failure. Sure if I did fail to find the Rat's Tooth, faith! I found the spuds.

Therefore the t.i.tle is a misnomer or I've put the wrong yarn to the right t.i.tle, or the wrong t.i.tle to the right yarn, but anyhow, failure or not, you've the yarn, so digest it and make the best of it, as we did the potatoes; and I a.s.sure you there was no failure about them. And as now this finale has bothered me as much as those confounded gullies did, I must confess that after partaking of perhaps too many of those spuds, and very good they were, I broke out into poetry in honour of my glorious horse. I will only give you one verse, so don't run away:

"A man may love a bow-wow, or a man may love a girl, He may prate on points of pedigree, or rave about a curl, But a trooper can love both of these, in a tiny way of course, For most of his affections are lavished on his horse.

Oh, some men love a steamer yacht, and some love jaunting cars, And I hear that in a big balloon men soon will visit Mars; But here's a toast you all must drink, refuse it if you can, A health to the n.o.ble warhorse, G.o.d's greatest gift to man."

Don't throw pannikins at me, but blame potatoes and ration rum taken on an empty stomach. Good-night.

CHAPTER VII

SOME MIRACULOUS ESCAPES I HAVE KNOWN

"There's a sweet little cherub who sits up aloft And looks after the life of poor Jack."

DIBDIN.

By miraculous escapes I mean those escapes from death that have been entirely engineered by the Power above, who has preserved the life of human beings when they were utterly helpless, and who, for some inscrutable reason, saves one life and allows others to be destroyed.

The yarns I am now going to spin will ill.u.s.trate, I think, what I have written above.

About midnight on 6th September 1868 a New Zealand Field Force, under the command of Colonel McDonnell, consisting of 200 white men and 70 friendly natives, left camp, crossed the deep, rapid and icy-cold River Waingongora, and started to attack Tetokowaru in his stronghold Te-ngutu-o-te-manu.

I am not going to inflict on you the miserable yarn of the unfortunate fight, as I have written it elsewhere; suffice it to say that the great majority of the 200 white men were untrained new chums, and that over 40 of them bolted at the first volley. The remainder stood their ground, although they refused to extend; so we lost one-third of our number, killed and wounded, in less than a quarter of an hour, and had to retreat, leaving our dead and many wounded men behind us.

So that you can understand the position of affairs, I may tell you that Colonel McDonnell, retaining the command of 100 of the white men, had sent the remaining 100 under Major Von Tempsky, to act on the right of his own party, and, as soon as he saw that nothing but a retreat could save the remainder of his force, he sent Captain McDonnell, his brother, to Von Tempsky with orders for the Major to retreat at once, and join up with his own party.

This order was delivered, but a few seconds later the Major was shot dead. Captain McDonnell then gave the order to Captain Buck, who promised to carry it out. Captain McDonnell returned to his brother, and the retreat began. Instead of immediately obeying the order, Captain Buck endeavoured to recover the Major's body, and was at once shot dead, without having pa.s.sed the order on to anyone else. The next senior officer, Captain Roberts, took command of the party; but, as he was ignorant of the order to retreat, he still continued to hold his ground, until he was informed by some of his men that the Colonel had retreated. Joined by a few friendly natives, he retired by another route, and led the remains of his shattered and worn-out party into camp next morning.

Having given you a rough idea how things stood with our men on the afternoon of the 7th (please remember the date), I will now start the yarn.

It was late in the afternoon when Captain Roberts began his retreat, pursued by a party of Hau Haus. His men, nearly all new chums, behaved badly; but with a few good men, and the friendly natives who had joined him, he kept the enemy at bay till nightfall, when they drew off.

Now among his party he had a man named Dore, one of the Wellington Rangers, and a new chum.

This poor fellow had his arm, just below the shoulder, smashed to pieces by a bullet, fell, fainted from loss of blood, and was abandoned.

When he came to, he found himself stripped of everything, with the exception of his tattered and blood-stained s.h.i.+rt.

He must have been discovered by the pursuing Hau Haus, who had evidently thought him dead, but who, although they stripped him, forbore to tomahawk him or mutilate his body. This in itself was a marvel, and shows that that sweet little cherub must have taken his case in hand, as, with one other exception, the Hau Haus were never known to omit tomahawking and mutilating a dead body.

The poor chap hid in a hollow rata-tree, and when it was quite dark attempted to find his way back to camp. He, however, was a new chum, knew nothing of bush work, and consequently lost his way, wandering in a circle, and always returning to the vicinity of the blood-stained pah and ferocious Hau Haus. This he continued to do for three days; but on the evening of the 10th he managed to get out of the bush into the open country, and made for the camp. All this time he had been without a bite of food, with a severe raw wound, with only the fragment of a s.h.i.+rt to protect him against the icy-cold sleet and frost, and although all that time in the close vicinity of the Hau Hau pah, he miraculously escaped being spotted.

As I said before, on the evening of the 10th he found himself in the open country, and struck out for the drift across the flooded Waingongora River. He remembered reaching it, then lost recollection.

How he crossed that drift, a very bad one even for a strong and healthy man to tackle alone, is more than a miracle; but he always a.s.serted he was fired on while doing so, and fainted on reaching the bank.

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Camp Fire Yarns of the Lost Legion Part 7 summary

You're reading Camp Fire Yarns of the Lost Legion. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): G. Hamilton Browne. Already has 674 views.

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