"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.