The trumpets were ringing out again to call the various parts of the
force together, a couple of regiments being sent in pursuit of the only
body of the defeated Boers which showed any cohesion, the greater part
of those who had reached their horses and escaped doing this to a great
extent singly, and the rest of that day was passed in gathering in the
wagons, disarming the prisoners, and making all secure in the laager,
which was now formed about a spruit that offered an ample supply of good
fresh water.
The capture proved to be far greater than was at first surmised, for in
addition to the four heavy guns with their wagons and special
ammunition, scores of the great lumbering Dutch wagons were full of
rifles and cartridges. Besides these, there was an ample supply of
ordinary stores, and, in addition to the many spans of oxen, hundreds of
captured horses and several flocks of sheep.
By night all was made secure in the great camp, and the despatch-riders
were made welcome at the mess presided over by the cavalry General, who
with his staff eagerly listened to the adventurers' account of their
journey, and to their report of the state of beleaguered Mafeking.
That night the pair slept in peace in the well-guarded camp after
debating about their continuance of their journey the next morning.
But when morning came the General demurred to letting them go.
"You must wait a day longer," he said, "until my boys have done more, to
clear the way, for your road must be full of revengeful Boers, the
remains of the force we defeated yesterday, and I am certain that
neither you nor your despatch would reach Kimberley if I let you go!"
"We are very anxious to be off, sir," said West, in a disappointed tone.
"And I am very anxious that the Kimberley people should have your good
news, my lad," said the general, smiling, "and the news too of how we
have taken the guns and stores meant to be used against Mafeking; but,
as I have told you before, I don't want the news you are to carry to be
found somewhere on the veldt, perhaps a year hence, along with some rags
and two brave young fellows' bones."
"Thank you, sir," said West quietly; "but when do you think we might
continue our journey?"
"That depends on the reports I get in from the men still away in
pursuit."
The men in camp were in high glee, for they had been struggling hard for
weeks to get to conclusions with the enemy, but without success, while
now their highest expectations had been more than fulfilled; but there
was plenty of sorrow to balance the joy, many poor fellows having met
their end, while the number of injured in the hospital ambulances and
tents made up a heavy list.
West and Ingleborough saw much of this, and spent no little time in
trying to soften the pangs endured by the brave lads who lay patiently
bearing their unhappy lot, suffering the agony of wounds, and many more
the miseries of disease.
There was trouble too with the prisoners, and West and his companion
were present when a desperate attempt to escape was made by a party
worked upon by one of their leaders--a half-mad fanatical being whose
preachings had led many to believe that the English conquerors were
about to reduce the Boers to a complete state of slavery.
The attempt failed, and the leader was one of those who fell in the
terrible encounter which ensued.
Both West and Ingleborough were witnesses of the resulting fight, for
the attempt was made in broad daylight, just when such a venture was
least expected, and, after those who seized upon a couple of score of
the captured horses and tried to gallop off had been recaptured, the
young men worked hard in helping to carry the wounded to the patch of
wagons that formed the field hospital.
"Ugh!" said West, with a shudder, after he and Ingleborough had
deposited a terribly-injured Boer before one of the regimental surgeons;
"let's get down to the spruit and wash some of this horror away."
"Yes," said Ingleborough, after a glance at his own hands; "we couldn't
look worse if we had been in the fight! Horrible!"
"It's one thing to be in the wild excitement of a battle, I suppose,"
said West; "but this business after seems to turn my blood cold."
Ingleborough made no reply, and the pair had enough to do afterwards in
descending the well-wooded, almost perpendicular bank to where the
little river ran bubbling and foaming along, clear and bright.
"Ha!" sighed West; "that's better! It was horrible, though, to see
those poor wretches shot down."
"Um!" murmured Ingleborough dubiously. "Not very! They killed the
sentries first with their own bayonets!"
"In a desperate struggle for freedom, though! But there, I'm not going
to try and defend them!"
"No, don't, please!" said Ingleborough. "I can't get away from the fact
that they began the war, that the Free State had no excuse whatever, and
that the enemy have behaved in the most cruel and merciless way to the
people of the towns they have besieged."
"All right! I suppose you are right; but I can't help feeling sorry for
the beaten."
"Feel sorry for our own party then!" said Ingleborough, laughing. "Why,
Noll, lad, we must not holloa till we are out of the wood. This last is
a pretty bit of success; but so far we have been horribly beaten all
round."
"Yes, yes; don't talk about it," said West sharply; "but look over
there. We needn't have been at the trouble of scrambling down this
almost perpendicular place, for there must be a much easier spot where
that fellow is walking up."
"Never mind; we'll find that slope next time, for we shall have to come
down again if we want a wash."
They sat down chatting together about the beautifully peaceful look of
the stream, while Ingleborough lit his pipe and began to smoke.
"It does seem a pity," said Ingleborough thoughtfully, exhaling a cloud
of smoke: "this gully looks as calm and peaceful as a stream on old
Dartmoor at home. My word! I wish I had a rod, a line, and some flies!
There must be fish here. I should like to throw in that pool and
forget all about despatch-bearing and guns and rifles and men using
lances. It would be a treat!"
"It looks deep and black too in there," said West. "Yes, a good day's
fishing in such a peaceful--Ugh! Come away. Let's get back to the
camp."
"Why? What's the matter?" cried Ingleborough, starting up, in the full
expectation of seeing a party of the enemy making their way down the
farther bank to get a shot at them.
But West was only pointing with averted head down at the deep black
pool, and Ingleborough's face contracted as his eyes took in all that
had excited West's horror and disgust.
For there, slowly sailing round and round just beneath the surface, were
the white faces of some half-dozen Boers, wounded to the death or
drowned in their efforts to escape the British cavalry, and washed down
from higher up by the swift stream, to go on gliding round and round the
pool till a sudden rising of the waters from some storm should give the
stream sufficient power to sweep them out.