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Charge! - A Story of Briton and Boer, a novel by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 22. Making The Best Of It

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_ CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. MAKING THE BEST OF IT

That was a terrible night which followed. We had plenty of water; but our scraps of food were sadly inadequate for the wants of the men, who, many of them wounded, were sick and despondent, and dropped down here and there to fall asleep as soon as their injuries were roughly dressed. Meanwhile the walls were as strongly manned as could be contrived under the circumstances; and the weary horses were now watered and given the last handful of grain in the bags, after which they stood snuffing about among the stones, every now and then uttering an impatient neigh--Sandho as bad as any of them, though he had fared better, for I had given him half my biscuits and a piece of bread-cake.

By nightfall the entrance had been strongly fortified with a massive wall of stones, a narrow side-opening being left, large enough to admit any straggler who might manage to reach our camp; and then all but the sentries, after a last look at the Boers' fires in the distance, lay down anywhere to sleep; but pain and weariness kept me as wakeful as a group of officers, among whose voices I was glad to hear that of Sergeant Briggs, who spoke the most cheerily of them all.

"If you'll not mind, gentlemen," he said, "I should like to say that our position isn't so bad as you think."

"Why, it couldn't be worse," said the Major.

"Begging your pardon, sir, yes," said Sergeant Briggs. "We've plenty of water, and our marksmen can keep the Boers at a distance as long as you like. They won't face our rifles."

"But the horses, man!"

"They can be taken out to graze, sir, covered by our rifle-fire. There's a good patch of green out yonder."

"But we can't go and graze," said another officer.

"No, sir; but we shall be hungry enough by to-morrow night to be ready for a raid on the Boers' provision wagons. There'll be plenty, and we must cut one out, fasten a dozen reins to it, and bring it up here."

"Humph! We might try," said the Major.

"And we will," said one of our captains. "Why, we might capture some of their ammunition too," he added.

"Yes, sir. They've got pack-mules with their small-arms ammunition; and with a bit of scheming and a night surprise it might be done," said the Sergeant. "And there's another thing I had my eyes on to-day."

"What's that, Briggs?" said the Major.

"A train of bullocks, sir; and if one of you gentlemen can shoot the train with a field-glass just before sunset to-morrow night, if we're here, and give me half-a-dozen men and that black chap as come along with young Mr Moray, I shouldn't wonder if we had grilled steak for supper just by way of a change."

"Why, Sergeant," cried the Major, "if you're not our adjutant before this war's over it shan't be my fault."

"Thank ye, sir," said Briggs stolidly; "but I should like to get the beef for the boys and a load of mealies for the horses before we talk about that. And now, if you wouldn't mind, I'll have a couple of hours' sleep."

I felt for a few minutes so much brightened up that I was ready to go off too; but the thoughts of poor Denham lying out dead or wounded somewhere on the veldt kept me awake, and I was in greater pain than ever from the blow I had received. And there I lay in my misery till about midnight, when there was an alarm from the sentries of horsemen approaching, and I sprang to my feet. _

Read next: Chapter 23. "Il Faut Manger"

Read previous: Chapter 21. I Have My Doubts

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