"I dare say I could find a few more adjectives to illustrate your
character, sir," said the doctor rather pompously; "but I think that
will do."
"So do I, sir," said Denham; "but let me tell you that you don't allow
for our having to lie helpless here fretting our very hearts out because
we can't join the ranks."
"There you go again, sir," cried the doctor. "Always grumbling. Look
at you both; wounds healing up."
"Ugh!" cried Denham. "Mine are horrid." I winced again.
"Your muscles are recovering their tone."
"I can hardly move without pain," groaned Denham. I screwed up my face
in sympathy.
"Your bruises dying out."
"Doctor!" shouted Denham, "do you think I haven't looked at myself? I'm
horrible."
This time I groaned.
"How do you know? You haven't got a looking-glass, surely?"
"No; but I've seen my wretched face in a bucket of water," cried Denham.
"Bah! Conceited young puppy! And compared notes, too, both of you,
I'll be bound."
"Of course we have, lying about here with nothing to do but suffer and
fret. You don't seem to do us a bit of good."
"What!" cried the doctor. "Why, if it hadn't been for me you'd have had
no faces at all worth looking at. Most likely--There, there, there! I
won't get into a temper with you both, and tell you what might have
happened."
"Both would have died, and a good job too," cried Denham bitterly.
"Come, come!" said the doctor gently; "don't talk like that. I know, I
know. It has been very hard to bear, and you both have been rather slow
at getting strong again. But be reasonable. This hasn't been a proper
hospital, and it isn't now a convalescent home, where I could coax you
both back into health and strength. I've no appliances or medicines
worth speaking about, and I must confess that the diet upon which I am
trying to feed you up is not perfect."
"Perfect, Val!" cried Denham. "Just listen to him. Everything is
horrible."
"Quite right, my dear boy," said the doctor; "it is."
"The bread--Ugh! It always tastes of burnt bones and skin and grease."
"Yes," said the doctor, with a sigh; "but that's all the fuel we have
for heating the oven now the wagons are burned."
"Then the soup, or beef-tea, or whatever you call it. I don't know
which is worst--that which is boiled up in a pannikin or the nauseous
mess made by soaking raw beef in a bucket of water."
"But it is warmed afterwards, my dear boy," said the doctor, "and it is
extremely nutritious."
"Ugh!" shuddered Denham. "What stuff for a poor fellow recovering from
wounds! I can't and I won't take any more of it."
The doctor smiled, and looked hard at the grumbler.
"Won't you, Denham?" he said. "Oh yes, you will; and you're going to
have bits of steak to-day, frizzled on ramrods."
"Over a bone fire!" cried Denham. "I'm sick of it all."
"Come, come, come! you're getting ever so much stronger, both of you."
"But are we really, doctor?" I said; "or are you saying this to cheer
us up?"
"Ask yourselves, boys. You know as well as I do that you are. Climb up
on the wall this morning and sit in the sunshine; but mind you keep well
in shelter. I don't want one of the Boers to undo in a moment what has
taken me so long to do."
"Oh, I don't know," said Denham dismally. "We're poor sort of
machines--always getting out of order."
"Have you two been falling out?" said the doctor, turning to me.
"No," I said; "we haven't had a word. Denham's in rather a bad temper
this morning."
"Why, you impudent beggar!" he cried, "for two pins I'd punch your
head."
"Bravo!" cried the doctor. "Here, I'll give 'em to you. Humph! No;
only got one. Stop a minute; I'll give you a needle out of my case
instead. Will that do?"
"Look here, doctor," cried Denham; "I can't stand chaff now."
"Chaff, my dear boy? I'm in earnest. That's right; go at him. Have a
really good fight. It will do you good."
"Bah!" cried Denham, as he saw me laughing. "Here, come along up to the
wall, Val. I don't want to fall out with the doctor any more."
"That you don't," said that gentleman, offering his hand. "There,
good-morning, patients. I know. But cheer up. I like that bit of
spirit Denham showed just now. It was a splendid sign. You'll eat the
grill when it comes?"
He did not wait for an answer, but bustled away, Denham looking after
him till he was out of hearing.
"I wish I hadn't been so snappish with him," he said rather
remorsefully. "He has done a lot for us."
"Heaps," I said.
"And we must seem very ungrateful."
"He knows how fretful weak people can be," I said. "Come, let's get up
into the sunshine."
For I was having hard work with poor Denham in those days. His
sufferings had affected him in a curious way. He was completely soured,
and a word or two, however well meant, often sent him into a towering
rage. Even then I had to temporise, for he turned impatiently away.
"Hang the sunshine!" he said.
"But it will do you good," I said.
"I don't want to get any good. It only makes me worse. I shall stop
down here in the shade."
"I'm sorry," I said, "for I wanted to be up in the fresh air this
morning."
"Oh, well, if you want to go I'll come with you."
"Yes, do," I said; and we went out into the great court, where the
horses were fidgeting, and biting and kicking at one another, and being
shouted at by the men, who were brushing away at their coats to get them
into as high a state of perfection as possible. There were the bullocks
too, sadly reduced in numbers, and suggesting famine if some new efforts
were not made.
"Don't stop looking about," said Denham peevishly. "How worn and shabby
the men look! It gives me the horrors."
I followed him, but after his remark I gave a sharp look at the groups
of men we passed, especially one long double line going through the
sword exercise and pursuing-practice under the instructions of Sergeant
Briggs; and as, at every barked-out order, the men made their
sabre-blades flash in the sunshine, I felt a thrill as of returning
strength run through me; but I noticed how thin, though still active and
strong, the fellows looked.
We climbed up the rugged stones, which had gradually been arranged till
the way was pretty easy, and reached the top of the wall, now protected
by a good breastwork high enough to enable our sentries to keep well
under cover.
It was very bright and breezy up there; but Denham did not seem disposed
to sit down quietly and rest in the sun, for he stepped up at once to
where he could gaze over the breastwork, resting his elbows on the
stones and his chin upon his hands.
"Hi, Denham! don't do that," I said. "It's not safe."
"Bah! I want to look out for those ammunition-wagons old Briggs was
talking about."
"But--" I began, and then I was silent, for Joeboy had followed us up,
and seeing Denham's perilous position, he stepped up behind him, put his
hands to his waist, and lifted him down as if he had been a child.
"How dare--Oh, it's you, Blackie," he said, laughing.
It was a strange laugh, and I could see that the poor fellow had a
peculiar look in his eyes. For as Joeboy snatched more than lifted him
down, _ping, whiz_, the humming of two bullets went so close to his head
on either side that he winced twice--to right and to left; and _crack_,
_crack_ came the reports of the rifles fired from the Boer lines
opposite.
"Doppie want to shoot Boss Denham," said Joeboy coolly. "Shoot
straight."
"Yes, they shoot straight," said Denham; "but I didn't think--I don't
know, though; perhaps I did think. I say, Val," he added in a strange,
inconsequent way, as if rather ashamed of his recklessness, "that was
rather near--wasn't it?"
"Why do you act like that?" I said reproachfully.
"I suppose it was out of bravado," he replied, seeming to return to his
old manner again. "I wanted to show the brutes the contempt I feel for
them."
"You only made them laugh to see how quickly your head disappeared when
they fired."
"How do you know?" he said sharply.
"Because that's exactly what they would do," I replied.
Denham frowned, and turned to Joeboy.
"Here," he said, "put up that big stone on the edge there."
The black obeyed, and then Denham pointed to another.
"Put that one beside it, and leave just room between them for me to peer
out. I want to see whether it's possible to do as you did, Val, and
bring out a wagon of cartridge-boxes."
Joeboy raised first one and then another great stone upon the edge as he
was told, and Denham stepped up directly to look between them, but
bobbed his head and stepped down again directly, for _spat, spat, spat_,
three rifle-bullets struck the stones and fell rattling down.
Denham looked sharply towards me, frowning angrily; but I met his eyes
without shrinking.
"I wish I wasn't so nervous," he said, by way of apology. "It's from
being weak, I suppose."
"It's enough to make a strong man shrink," I said. "Don't look again.
The next bullet may come between the stones and hit you."
"But I must look," he said angrily. "It's quite time you and I did
something to help."
"If you are hit it will do every one else harm instead of good."
He turned upon me fiercely, but calmed down directly.
"Yes," he said; "I suppose you're right. Oh, here's the Sergeant coming
up. He has done drilling, I suppose."
The Sergeant announced that this was so directly after joining us.
"The boys are getting splendid with the sword now," he said, seating
himself upon a block of stone and wiping his moist brow; "but it's
dreary work not being able to get them to work."
"Tell the Colonel to get them all out, then, and make a charge. We
ought to be able to scatter this mob."
"So we could, sir," said the Sergeant gruffly, "but they won't give us a
chance. If they'd make a mob of themselves we'd soon scatter them,
numerous as they are; but it's of no use to talk; we can't charge wagons
and rifle-pits. It wouldn't be fair to the lads. Why, they'd empty
half our saddles before we got up to them, and then it would be horrible
work to get through. No, it can't be done, Mr Denham, and you know it
as well as I do."
"No, I don't," said my companion stubbornly. "It ought to be done.
Once we were all through, the enemy would take to flight."
"Once we were all through," said the Sergeant, with a grim chuckle; "but
that's it. How many would get through? Now, just put it another way,
sir. Say there's only six or seven of them out there, and there's one
on our side. That's about how it stands as to numbers. Very well; say
you lead that charger of yours out. The Boers see what's going to
happen directly, and the minute you're up in the saddle they begin to
fire at you--the whole seven."
"You said six," cried Denham.
"Six or seven, sir. Well, let it be six. Don't you think it very
likely that one out of the six Doppies would manage to hit you?"
Denham frowned and remained silent, while Joeboy sat all of a heap, his
arms round his knees, watching the Sergeant, and I saw his ears twitch
as if he were trying hard to grasp the whole of the non-com's theory.
"You think not, sir?" continued Briggs. "Well, I don't agree with you.
They'd hit you perhaps before you got far; they'd hit you for certain,
you or your horse, before you got close up; and let me tell you that the
chances would be ever so much worse if we were galloping up to them in
line."
"Yes, you're right, Sergeant," said Denham slowly. "It would be murder,
and the chief couldn't, in justice to the men, call upon them to charge.
But they'd follow us," he added excitedly.
"Follow their officers, sir? Of course they would, and some of 'em
would get through."
"Gloriously," cried Denham.
"Well, I suppose some of those fine writers who make history would call
it glorious; but I should call it horrible waste of good stuff. It
wouldn't do, sir--it wouldn't do, for there'd be nothing to gain by it.
If we could make an opening in the enemy's lines and put 'em a bit into
disorder, so as to give a chance for another regiment to slip in and
rout 'em, it would be splendid; but to do it your way would be just
chucking good men's lives away."
"Yes, yes, Sergeant; you're right, and the Colonel's right, and I'm all
wrong. I know better; but my head got so knocked about by that renegade
Irishman and my fall down that hole that it doesn't work right yet."
"I know, sir," said the Sergeant, nodding his head. "When you talk in
that bitter way I know it isn't my brave, clever young officer speaking;
and I say to myself, `Wait a bit, old man; he'll soon come round.'"
"Thank you, Sergeant; thank you," said Denham, holding out his hand,
which Briggs grasped, shook warmly, then turned to me to go through the
same business; he did so hotly, for my hand felt crushed, and I vainly
tried to respond as heartily, while the tears of pain rose in my eyes,
but did not dim them so much that I could not see my torturer's eyes
were also moist.
"Well, what are you looking at?" he growled. "I say, don't squeeze a
man's hand like that. Why, you've made my eyes water, lad. Look,
they're quite wet. Phew! You did squeeze."
"It's because he has so much vice in him, Briggs," said Denham, smiling.
"That's it, Mr Denham. Well, we must wait, for there's nothing to be
done but send one or two smart fellows to creep through the enemy's
ranks in the night, on foot. You can't get horsemen through."
"You mean, send for help from the nearest British force?" said Denham.
"That's it, sir--some one to tell the officer in command that we shall
soon be on our last legs here; but if he'll como on and attack them in
the rear, we'll be out and at 'em as soon as we hear the shooting; and
if we didn't polish off the Doppies then, why, we should deserve to
lose."
"Briggs," said Denham warmly, "of course that's the plan. You ought to
have been in command of the corps yourself."
"Ah! now your head's getting a bit the better of you again, sir,"
replied the Sergeant, "or you wouldn't talk like that. What I say's
only second-hand. That's the chief's plan."
"Then why doesn't he carry it out?" I said indignantly.
"You hold your tongue," growled the Sergeant. "You're only a recruit
yet, and your head's getting the better of you too.--Yes, Mr Denham,
that's the Colonel's own plan, and he's tried it every night for the
last twelve nights."
"What!" I cried.
"Yes, my lad; called quietly for volunteers, and sent out twelve of our
lads; but so far there don't seem to be one that has got through, and
the game gets expensive. There, I must go down again now and get to
duty. I saw you two coming up while I was going through the exercise,
and I'm very glad to see you both looking so much better.--Well, Joe
Black," he said as he turned away, "how's Mr Moray's horse?"
"Um? Coat shine beautiful," said Joeboy.
"And enough to make it, my lad, seeing the way you rub him down."
"Denham," I said that night as we lay wakefully gazing up at the stars,
"do you feel any stronger yet?"
"I don't know. I seem to fancy I do. Why?"
"I thought you did because you've been so quiet ever since we had that
talk with the Sergeant. I feel stronger."
"Why do you ask?" he said.
"Because I've been thinking that I ought to do that job, and you ought
to be on the lookout again, to come to my help if I succeed."
"No," he said quickly; "it's a job for two. I'd go with you."
"But I should take Joeboy."
"Then it's a job for three, Val; we can take our time, and the slower we
go perhaps the better. If we get stopped by the Boers, we're wounded
and getting away from the fighting."
"Yes, that might do. We do look bad."
"Horribly bad, Val. You look a miserable wreck of a fellow."
"And you, I won't say what," I retorted, a little irritably.
"So much the better. When shall we go--to-night?"
"No. Let's have a good sleep to-night, and talk to Joeboy about it in
the morning. To-morrow night as soon as it's dark we'll be off," I
said.
"The Colonel won't let us go if we volunteer."
"Of course not. Let's go without leave; but that will look like
deserting."
"I don't care what it looks like so long as we can get through and bring
help."
"The same here."
"But we ought to steal away to-night," said Denham.
"No; let's have Joeboy. Ha!" I said, with a sigh of relief. "I seem
to see my way now, and I shall sleep like a top."
"I'm so relieved, Val, old chap, that I'm half-asleep now. Quite a
restful feeling has come over me. Good-night."
"Good-night," I replied; and I have some faint recollection of the rays
of a lantern beating down and looking red through my eyelids, and then
of feeling a soft hand upon my temples. But the next thing I fully
realised was that it was a bright, sunny morning, and that Denham was
sitting up in his sack-bed.
"How do you feel?" he cried eagerly.
"Like going off as soon as it's dark."
"So do I," he said. "I'm a deal better now. What's the first thing to
do--smuggle some meal to take with us?"
"I don't know," I replied. "Yes, perhaps we'd better take some; and,
I say, we must have bandages on our heads as well as the
sticking-plaster."
"Of course. Then, I say, as soon as ever we've had breakfast we'll talk
to Joeboy."
"Exactly," I replied. "He'll be half-mad to go, and when we've said all
we want to him we'll come back and lie down again."
"Oh! What for?"
"So as to rest and sleep all we possibly can, for if all goes well we
shan't have a wink to-night."
"Perhaps you're right," said Denham.
"There's one more thing to think about."
"What's that?"
"Our going off without leave," I said--"you an officer, I a private."
"Oh! I say, don't get raising up obstacles."
"I don't want to," I said; "but this is serious."
"Very, for us to run such risks; and of course it isn't according to
rule. But it's an exception. Let's argue it out, for it does look
ugly."
"Go on," I said, "for I want my conscience cleared."
"Look here, then; what are we going to do?"
"Try and get help, of course."
"Then I consider that sufficient excuse for anything--in a corps of
irregulars. Old Briggs would say it was mutinous in the regular army.
To go on: if we asked leave, the Colonel or Major would say we were mad,
and that we are not fit. Then--Oh, look here, I'm not going to argue,
Val. I confess it's all wrong, only there's one thing to be said: we're
not going to desert our ranks, for we're both on the sick-list; and,
come what may, I mean to go and bring help somehow. You're not shirking
the job after sleeping on it?"
"No," I said emphatically. "Now for breakfast, and then we'll have a
talk with Joeboy."