Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Charge! - A Story of Briton and Boer > This page
Charge! - A Story of Briton and Boer, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 3. My First Real Trouble |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER THREE. MY FIRST REAL TROUBLE Before my father could reply a body of horsemen cantered up, every man well mounted, rifle in hand, and carrying a cross-belt over his left shoulder fitted with cartridges, bandolier fashion. Their leader, a big, heavily-bearded, fierce-looking fellow, dropped from his saddle, threw the rein to one of his companions, and then swaggered up to us, scanning us with his eyes half-closed, and with a haughty, contemptuous expression in his countenance. "Ye're John Moray, I suppose?" he said, turning to my father, after looking me up and down in a way I, a hot-blooded and independent lad of eighteen, did not at all like. "Yes," said my father quietly, "I'm John Moray. Do you want some refreshment for your men and horses?" "Yes, of course," said our visitor; and I wondered why such a big-bearded, broad-shouldered fellow should speak in so high-pitched a tone. That he was Irish he proved directly; but that excited no surprise, for we were accustomed to offer hospitality to men of various nationalities from time to time--Scots, Finns, Germans, Swedes, and Norwegians--trekking up-country in search of a place to settle on. "Will you dismount and tie up, then?" said my father; "and we'll see what we can do.--Val, my lad, you will see to the horses having a feed?" "Yes, father," was on my lips, when the Irish leader turned upon me sharply with: "Oh, ye're Val--are ye?" "Yes," I said, rather sharply, for the man's aggressive manner nettled me; "my name is Valentine." "And is it, now?" he said, with a mocking laugh. "Ye're a penny plain and tuppence coloured, I suppose? Coloured, bedad! Look at his face!" "I don't see the joke," I said sharply. "Don't ye, now? Then ye soon will, my fine chap. Let's see, now; how old are ye?" I made no reply, and my father replied gravely: "My son is eighteen." "Is he, now? And ye're forty, I suppose?" "I am sorry to say I am over fifty," replied my father, as I stood chafing at the man's insolent, bullying tone. "Then ye don't look it, sor. But there, we'll leave ye alone for a bit. I dare say we can do without ye this time, and take the bhoy." "What for--where?" said my father quickly. "What for--where?" cried the man. "For the commando, of course." "The commando?" said my father, while I felt staggered, only half-grasping the import of his words. "Yes, sor, the commando. D'ye suppose ye are to have the protection of the State, and do nothing again' your counthry's inimies? If ye do ye're greatly mistaken. Every man must take his turn to difind the counthry, and ye may feel preciously contented that ye don't have to join yerself." "But I have heard of no rising," said my father, looking at me anxiously. "The blacks all about here are peaceable and friendly." "Not the blackest blacks, sor," said the man, drawing himself up and raising one hand and his voice in an oratorical way; "the blacks I mane are white-skinned, but black in the heart through and through; the blacks who are the dispisers of progress, the foes of freedom, the inimies of the counthry, sor--the despicable, insolent Saxons." "Do you mean the English?" said my father coolly. "I do that, sor," said the man defiantly; "and the day has dawned at last when the down-thrampled Boers are goin' to give them a lesson that shall make the British lion snaik out of this counthry with his tail between his legs like a beaten dog." "You are a British subject, sir," said my father. "Mahn, I scorrun it," cried our visitor. "I have thrown off all fealty years ago, and am a free Irishman, and captain of the body of brave men who are going to dhrive the tyranny of England out of this colony for ever." "This is all news to me, sir," said my father coldly. "Is it, sor?" said our visitor mockingly. "Then I'm proud to be the bearer of the great news." "Do you mean to tell me, then," said my father, "that there is war declared by England against the Boers?" "No, sor," cried the fellow insolently; "but I tell you that we have declared war again' the brutal Saxon." "We, sir?" said my father gravely. "But you are one of the Queen's servants--an Irishman." "Nothing of the sort, sor. I disown England; I disowned her when I came out here to throw meself into the arrums of the brave, suffering, pathriotic race around me, and placed my sword at their service." "Then you are a soldier, I presume?" said my father. "I was tin years in the arrmy, sor," said our visitor, drawing himself up and clapping his hand upon his chest. "Look at thim," he continued, pointing to his followers drawn up in line. "A part of my following, and as fine irrigular cavalry as ever threw leg over saddle.--Look here, young man, ye're in luck, for ye'll have the honour of serving in Captain Eustace Moriarty's troop." "You are Captain Eustace Moriarty?" said my father. "I am, sor." "Then I must tell you, sir," said my father, "that though I have taken up land here and made it my home, I claim my rights as an Englishman not to make myself a traitor by taking up arms against my Queen." "A thraitor!" cried the captain. "Bah! That for the Queen;" and he snapped his fingers. "But ye're not asked to serve now. That can wait till ye're wanted. It's the bhoy we want, and maybe after a bit it'll be you." "My son thinks as I do," said my father sternly. "Does he, now?" said the captain mockingly. "Then I shall have to tache him to think as I do, and it won't take long. D'ye hear me, bhoy?" "I hear what you say, sir," I replied. "Of course I think as my father does, and I refuse to serve against England." "I expected it," said the man, with cool insolence. "It's what I expected from a young Saxon. But look here, me bhoy; ye've got to serrve whether ye like it or whether ye don't. What's more, ye've got to come at once. So get yer horse, and clap the saddle on. Fetch him his rifle and his cartridge-bolt, and let there be no more nonsense." "You heard what my son said, sir," said my father haughtily. "If it were against a black enemy of the country we should both be willing." "Didn't I tell ye it was again' a black inimy?" said the man mockingly. "I heard you insult the Queen and her Government, sir," said my father; "and, once more, my son refuses to serve." "The coward!--the white-livered cub!" cried the captain contemptuously. "What!" I cried, springing forward; but my father flung his hand across my chest, and Bob rushed in past Aunt Jenny, as if to take refuge from the scene. "Quite right, old man," said the captain, coolly stroking his beard. "And look here, bhoy whether ye like it or not, ye're a sojer now; I'm yer shuperior officer, and it's time of war. If a man strikes his shuperior officer, he's stood up with a handkerchief tied across his eyes to prevent him from winking and spoiling the men's aim, and then the firing-party does the rest." As he spoke he made a sign, and half-a-dozen of the mounted Boers rode up. "Sargint," he said, "the young colt's a bit fractious. Ye'll take him in hand. Fasten his hands behind him ready. Two of ye go round to the pen there and pick out the most likely horse, saddle and bridle him, and bring him here. Ye've got some green-leather thongs. Then put him upon the horse with his face to the tail, and tie his ankles underneath. It'll be a fine lesson for the bhoy in rough-riding." The men were quick enough. Before I had even thought of trying to make my escape, two of the Boers were off their horses and made me their prisoner, while the rest of the little troop rode closer up and surrounded us. Then other two of the men rode off behind the house, and I stood breathing hard, biting my lips, and feeling as if something hot was burning my chest as I tried hard to catch my father's averted eyes. Just then the Irish renegade captain burst into a hearty laugh, and I wrenched myself round to look, and felt better. A minute before, I had seen Bob disappear into the house, and had mentally denounced him as a miserable little coward; but my eyes flashed now as I saw him hurry out with three rifles over his right shoulder, a bandolier belt across his left, and two more, well filled with cartridges, hanging to the barrels of the rifles. "Bedad!" said the captain, "and he's worth fifty of his big, hulking brother! But ye're too shmall, darlint. Wait a year or two longer, and ye shall fight under me like a man." Bob made a rush for father; but one of the Boers leaned down and caught him by the shoulder, while another snatched the rifles from his hands, and laid them across the pommel of the saddle in which he sat. "Give up, Bob; give up," cried father sternly, as my brother began to struggle with all his might. "It is no use to fight against fate." "Hear him now," said the captain. "He can talk sinse at times." "Yes," said my father, "at times;" and he gave the captain a look which made him turn away his eyes.--"Val, my boy, I cannot have you exposed to the ignominy of being bound." "Sure, no," cried the captain. "I forgot to say a wurrud about stirrup-leathers across his back if he didn't behave himself." "Fate is against us for the present, my boy," continued my father, "and you must ride with this party till I have applied to the proper quarters to get the matter righted." "Now, man, be aloive," said the captain, and I winced and looked vainly round for a way of escape; but I was seized by the wrist by another dismounted Boer, who slipped a raw-hide noose over my wrist, just as two more came riding back, leading my own horse, Sandho, between them. The poor beast, who followed me like a dog, uttered a shrill neigh as soon as he caught sight of me, springing forward to reach my side. "Stop!" cried my father loudly; "there is no need for that. My son will ride with you, sir." "Indade, sir, I'm obleeged to ye for the inforrmation," said the captain mockingly; "but sure it's a work of shupererrogation, me dear friend, for I knew it, and that he was going to ride backward. If, however, he gives up sinsibly, he may ride with his back to the horse's tail, and ye needn't tie his ankles togither. Have ye ever ridden that horse before?" "He has ridden it hundreds of times, ever since it was a foal," said my father quickly, for I felt choked.--"Stop, man," he added angrily; "your captain said my son was not to be bound." "Sure I didn't say a wurrud about his wrists, old man," cried the captain contemptuously. "Ye want too much. I've let him off about the ankles, and let him ride face forward, so be contint. Make his wrists fast behind him." I was compelled to resign myself to my fate, and stood fighting hard to keep down all emotion while my wrists were secured firmly behind my back, the thin raw-hide cutting painfully into the flesh. By this time Sandho was bridled and saddled, and just then my father turned to Bob. "Take in those rifles, my boy," he said. The captain turned sharply and gave my father a searching look; but he contented himself with nodding, and my brother snatched the rifles from where they lay across the Boer's knees, and rushed indoors with them. I knew well enough why, poor fellow: it was to hide the tears struggling to rise, and of which he was ashamed. Just then I had harder work than ever to control my own feelings, for Aunt Jenny hurried towards me, but was kept back by my captors; and I saw her go to my father and throw her arms about his neck, while he bent over her and seemed to be trying to whisper comfort. "There, up with ye, me bhoy," cried the captain. "Ye can't mount, though, with yer hands behind yer like a prishner.--Lift him on, two of ye, like a sack." "That they shan't," I said between my teeth; and feeling now that what was to como was inevitable, I took a couple of steps to my horse's side. "Stand!" I said aloud as I raised one foot to the stirrup; and Sandho stood as rigid as if of bronze, while I made a spring, raised myself up, and threw my leg over. "Well done, bhoy!" cried the captain as I sank into the saddle.--"You, Hooger, take his rein. Unfasten one end from the bit so as to give ye double length, and ye'd better buckle it to your saddle-bow.--Now look here, me fine fellow," he continued, addressing me, "ye'll give me none of your nawnsense; for, look ye, my bhoys are all practised shots with the rifle. They can bring down a spring-bok going at full speed, so they can easily bring ye down and yer nag too. There's twenty of them, and I'm a good shot meself, so ye know what to expect if ye thry to escape." I said nothing, for I was thinking with agony about poor Aunt Jenny, who was now coming up to me, and the captain laughed as he saw her pain-wrung countenance. "Good-bye, Val, my boy," said my father slowly; "and bear up like a man." That was all, and he turned away. The next moment Bob was clinging to my arm. "O Val! O Val! O Val!" he cried in a choking voice, and then he dropped back, poor boy, for he could say no more. "Be sharp there and get it done, me bhoy," said the captain. "Ye can say good-bye to the owld woman; but lave the cat and the dogs till ye come back." "Are you going to march at once?" said my father as Aunt Jenny came to my side, and I gripped my saddle and bent down for her to put her arms round my neck. "Sor, ye see that I am," said the captain. "But you and your men will take something to eat and drink?" "Something to send them asleep?" said the captain suspiciously. "I'm thinkin' they can last till we get back to Drak Pass, where there's a shtore. I'm obleeged to ye all the same.--There, that'll do, owld lady. I'll make a man of the bhoy, and send him back safe and sound, if some of the raw recruits of the brutal Saxons don't shoot him." "Good-bye, then. God bless you and protect you, Val!" said Aunt Jenny, with a sob, as she loosened her grip of my neck, and I straightened myself up, feeling my heart swell and the blood bound in my veins, for while my father kept the captain in converse, she, with quivering lips, had breathed words of hope into my ear. "Listen, Val," she said. "Your father bids me say that you are to watch for your chance, and then make a dash for your liberty. Gallop to Echo Nek, and you will find Joeboy waiting there with a rifle and cartridges. But you must not come back here. Joeboy will bring a letter." My heart was bounding with hope, and I felt ready for anything just then, as the captain gave the orders "Mount!" and then "Forward!" But the next minute my spirits sank into the darkness of misery. For what had Aunt Jenny said? Joeboy would be waiting at Echo Nek with a rifle and cartridges. Yes; but poor Joeboy had taken flight at the appearance of the Boers, and fled for his liberty, in the belief that they had come for him. _ |
||