"WATER, OR I SHALL DIE!"
Pen's heart beat heavily as he lay listening to the tramping of feet
upon the rocky shelf, and at last the sounds seemed so close that he
drew himself together ready to spring to his feet and do what he could
to protect his injured comrade. For in his strange position the idea
was strong upon him that their first recognition by the enemy might be
made with the presentation of a bayonet's point.
But his anticipations proved to be only the work of an excited brain;
and, as he lay perfectly still once more, the heavy tramp, tramp, a good
deal wanting in the regularity of the British troops, died out, and he
relieved the oppression that bore down upon his breast with a deep sigh.
Nothing was visible as the sounds died out; and, waiting till he felt
that he was safe, he changed his position slightly so as to try and make
out whether the rear-guard of the enemy had quite disappeared.
In an instant he had shrunk down again amongst the bushes, for there,
about a hundred yards away, at the point of an angle where the mule-path
struck off suddenly to the left, and at a spot that had undoubtedly been
chosen for its command of the road backward, he became aware of the
presence of an outpost of seven or eight men.
This was startling, for it put a check upon any attempt at movement upon
his own part.
Pen lay thinking for a few moments, during which he made sure that his
comrade was still plunged in a deep, stupor-like sleep. Then, after a
little investigation, he settled how he could move slightly without
drawing the attention of the vedette; and, taking advantage thereof,
crawled cautiously about a couple of yards with the greatest care.
Then, looking back as he slowly raised his head, which he covered with a
few leafy twigs, he was by no means surprised to see at the edge of the
mule-path about a quarter of a mile away another vedette. This shut off
any attempt at retreat in that direction, and he was about to move again
when he was startled by a flash of light reflected from a musket-barrel
whose bearer was one acting as the leader of a third vedette moving up
the side of the valley across the river, and which soon came to a halt
at about the same height above the stream as that which he occupied
himself.
The lad could not control a movement of impatience as the little knot of
infantry settled themselves exactly opposite to his own hiding-place,
and in a position from which the French soldiers must be able to control
one slope of the valley for a mile in each direction.
"It's maddening!" thought Pen. "I sha'n't be able to stir, and I dare
say they'll have more vedettes stationed about. It means giving up, and
nothing else."
Very slowly and cautiously he wrenched himself round, and then rolled
over twice so as to bring himself alongside of his sleeping comrade; and
then, as he resumed his reconnoitring, where he was just able to command
the farther side of the valley away to his right and in a direction
where he hoped to find the land clear, he started again.
"Why, they are everywhere!" said the lad half-aloud and with a faint
groan of dismay; for there, higher up the opposite side, were a couple
of sentries who seemed to be looking straight down upon him. "Why, they
must have seen me!" he muttered; and for quite an hour now he lay
without stirring, half in the expectation of seeing the low bushes in
motion and a little party of the blue-coated enemy coming across to
secure fresh prisoners.
But the time wore on, with the chill of the night dying out in the warm
sunshine now beginning to search Pen's side of the valley with the
bright shafts of light, which suggested to him the necessity for
covering his well-kept rifle with the leafy twigs he was able to gather
cautiously so as not to betray his presence.
He was in the act of doing this when, turning his head slightly, a flash
of light began to play right into his eyes, and he stopped short once
more to try and make out whether this had been seen by either of the
enemy on duty, for he now awoke to the fact that poor Punch's bugle was
lying quite exposed.
The fact was so startling that, instead of trying to reach its cord and
draw the glistening instrument towards him, he lay perfectly still
again, sweeping the sides of the valley as far as he could in search of
danger, but searching in vain, till the thought occurred to him that he
might achieve the object he had in view by cautiously taking out his
knife and cutting twig after twig so that they might fall across the
curving polished copper.
This he contrived to do, and then lay still once more, breathing freely
in the full hope that if he gave up further attempt at movement he might
escape detection.
"Besides," he said to himself, with a bitter smile playing upon his
lips, "if they do make us out they may not trouble, for they will think
we are dead."
He lay still then, waiting for Punch to awaken so that he could warn him
to lie perfectly quiet.
The hours glided by, with the sun rising higher and setting the watcher
thinking, in spite of his misery, weariness, and the pangs of hunger
that attacked him, of what a wonderfully beautiful contrast there was
between the night and the day. With nothing else that he could do, he
recalled the horrors of the past hours, the alternating chills of cold
and despair, and the howlings of the wolves; and he uttered more than
one sigh of relief as his eyes swept the peaks away across the valley,
which here and there sent forth flashes of light from a few scattered
patches of melting snow, the beautiful violet shadows of the transverse
gullies through which sparkling rivulets descended with many a fall to
join the main stream, which dashed onward with the dull, musical roar
which rose and fell, now quite loud, then almost dying completely away.
The valley formed a very paradise to the unfortunate fugitive, and he
muttered bitterly:
"How beautiful it would have been under other circumstances, when such a
wondrous scene of peace was not disfigured by war! So bitterly cold
last night," thought the young private impatiently, for he was fighting
now against two assaults, both of which came upon him when he was trying
hard to lie perfectly still and maintain his equanimity while the pangs
of hunger and thirst were growing poignant. "It seems so easy," he
muttered, "to lie still and keep silence, and here I am feeling that I
must move and do something, and wanting so horribly to talk. It would
be better if that poor boy would only awaken and speak to me. And
there's that water, too," he continued, as the faint plashing, rippling
sound rose to his ears from below. "Oh, how I could drink! I wish the
wind would rise, so that I couldn't hear that dull plashing sound. How
terribly hot the sun is; and it's getting worse!"
Then a horrible thought struck him, that Punch might suddenly wake up
and begin to talk aloud, feverish and delirious from his sufferings; and
then when Pen's troubles were at their very worst, and he could hardly
contain himself and keep from creeping downwards to the water's edge, it
seemed as if a cloud swept over him, and all was blank, for how long he
could not tell, but his fingers closed sharply to clutch the twigs and
grass amongst which he lay as he started into full consciousness.
"Why, I have been asleep!" he muttered. "I must have been;" and he
stared wildly around. There was a great shadow there, and now the sun
is beating down upon that little gully and lighting up the flashing
waters of the fall. "Why, I must have been sleeping for hours, and it
must be quite midday."
His eyes now sought the positions of the different vedettes, and all was
so brilliant and clear that he saw where the men had stood up their
muskets against bush or tree, noted the flash from bayonets and the
duller gleam from musket-barrels. In one case, too, the men were
sheltering themselves beneath a tree, and this sent an additional pang
of suffering through the lad, as he felt for the first time that the sun
was playing with burning force upon his neck.
"It's of no use," he said. "Even if they see me, I must move."
But he made the movement with the mental excuse that it was to see how
his wounded companion fared.
It only meant seizing hold of a clump of wiry heather twice over and
drawing himself to where his face was close to the sleeper. Then he
resigned himself again with a sigh to try and bear his position.
"He's best off," he muttered, "bad as he is, for he can't feel what I
do."
How the rest of that day of scorching sunshine and cruel thirst passed
onward Pen Gray could not afterwards recall. For the most part it was
like a feverish dream, till he awoke to the fact that the sun was
sinking fast, and that from time to time a gentle breath of cool air was
wafted down from the mountains.
Then the hunger began to torture him again, though at times the thirst
was less. His brain was clearer, though, and he lay alternately
watching the vedettes and noting that they had somewhat changed their
positions, and trying to perfect his plans as to what he must do as soon
as the shades of night should render it possible for him to move unseen.
Finally, the last sentry was completely blotted out by the gathering
darkness; and, uttering the words aloud, "Now for it!" Pen tried to
raise himself to his knees before proceeding to carry out his plan, when
he sank back again with an ejaculation half of wonder, half of dread.
For a feeling of utter numbness shot through him, paralysing every
movement; while, prickling and stinging, every fibre of his frame
literally quivered as he lay there in despair, feeling that all his
planning had been in vain, and that now the time had arrived when he
might carry out his attempt in safety the power of movement had
absolutely gone.
How long he lay like this he could not tell, but it was until the
night-breeze was coming down briskly from the mountains, and the sound
of the plashing water far below sent a sudden feeling of excitement
through his nerves.
"Water!" he muttered. "Water, or I shall die!"