An advance guard of twenty men was thrown forward; Ben Halse's trap and
that containing the other storekeeper's family being in the middle of
the main body, which was ready to close up around both at a moment's
warning. Scouts were thrown out, but there were places in which the
thick bush rendered the services of such entirely useless.
The prospectors especially were inclined to treat the whole thing as a
picnic; indeed, there was hardly a man there present who was not
spoiling for a fight--and would have been intensely disappointed if no
such were put up. The women and children were certainly a drawback;
stray bullets have an uncomfortable knack of splattering in anywhere.
That the escort might be overwhelmed by weight of numbers and utterly
wiped out never occurred to them. Nearly a hundred police in full
fighting kit, and the dozen or so of extra rifles, ought to be able to
hold their own against all Zululand. Isandhlwana? Oh yes; but that was
out of date; out-of-date weapons and out-of-date men. With quick-firing
rifles, and an abundance of ammunition, they could hold out for ever
against a mob of ricksha pullers and kitchen boys, for such were the
sorry substitutes for the old-time splendid legionaries of the last
king. The civilian element, in view of its victory that morning, was
inclined to treat the whole situation as a joke.
Denham, however, formed an exception to this spirit, so, too, did Ben
Halse, for the same reason. Inspector Bray, an experienced officer, who
was in command of the Force, felt not a little anxious; he would not
have felt anything of the kind but for his charges; and there was a very
critical bit of the road just beyond the Gilwana drift--several miles of
thickly bushed country. If they were attacked at all it would be there,
he prophesied to Denham, who was riding beside him.
It was a lovely afternoon, the air brisk, fresh and crisp, the sky
cloudless. The scattered thorn-bushes were alive with bird voices, but
that dark hang of forest on the rugged hills, now on the right hand, now
on the left, there it was that the element of menace lay.
"It's the devil," he said, "to have women to look after. I beg your
pardon, Denham, but I'm talking generally. You see, any tumble-down
shanty of a brick building will stop a bullet, but nothing will here.
You can make 'em lie down in the bottom of a trap, for instance, but
that's not bullet-proof. And I think I see Miss Halse, for instance,
consenting to do anything of the kind."
"I'd be sorry for the chump, black or white, she had got the sights of a
rifle on," he answered, with a thrill of pride. "She's just a dead
shot."
"So I've heard," said Bray, with a twinkle in his eyes. "You must have
had a good time together all this while. Good sport--and all that?"
"No, you don't draw me, Bray. I'm a collector, and I never heard that
birds and snakes were `royal' game."
"Rather hard to keep one's piece from going off--by accident, of
course--when a waterbuck or something _strays_ across the road, eh?"
But this chaff was interrupted by a trooper, who had ridden back from
the advance guard, and the intelligence he brought caused his superior
to swear. The river was down, and the passage of the Gilwana drift
would be impossible for at least a couple of hours.
"That's that infernal thunder burst up in the hills early this morning,"
declared Bray. Then he gave orders to off-saddle where they were, for,
of course, he had originally intended to do so on the further side.
However, it was open here, at any rate, and they might still be able to
push through the thickest and most dangerous part before dark.
"This is a real old picnic now, Miss Halse," pronounced Sub-Inspector
Dering, as he helped to unpack from the spider the requisite things
which had been brought along for lunch. "Lord, what a nuisance those
kids are!" he added in an undertone. "Always howling."
For Minton's small family was uttering shrilling expostulation at the
delayed meal. The while vedettes were posted, and the police, split up
into groups, were discussing their rations. The officers and the
civilian element were making a picnic together, and as such it seemed,
but the stacked rifles and full bandoliers told a different tale.
"What d'you think, Halse?" said Inspector Bray, as the two talked apart
while the others were laughing and joking and making merry as they laid
out the things. "Shall we slip through, or shall we get a chance at
Sapazani?"
"Can't say. You see, I've been cut off from communication ever since I
left home. But I should say the chances are about even. One thing you
may rely upon, we have been watched every inch of the way."
"Sure?"
"Dead cert. However, let's fall-to, at any rate. We'll be ready for
them if they do come, and we can't do more."
The picnic proceeded merrily enough. Sub-Inspector Dering attached
himself very attentively to Verna. He was aware of her engagement, but
he was an Irishman, and therefore bound to attach himself to the
best-looking woman present. Harry Stride was rather silent, hardly
talking with the other prospectors, among whom he had chosen to keep
himself. But when the after-lunch pipes came out, Bray, with an escort
of a dozen men, started off to examine the drift for himself, and with
him went Denham.
It was barely two miles off. The river, not a wide one, swirled between
high, clayey banks fringed with dense bush. If attacked at the point of
crossing the matter might be serious.
He was relieved. The high-water mark of the flood had left a broad, wet
stripe between it and the surface. The stream was subsiding rapidly.
"In half-an-hour we shall be able to take it," he said. "Hallo! Don't
see anything, Denham?"
"Yes," said the latter, with his glasses to his eyes. "It looks like
cattle. Yes, it is; black and white ones. But they are not being
driven; they seem to be grazing."
Away on the hill, some seven hundred yards beyond the river, where the
bush thinned out into rocks and open ground, white specks were visible
to the naked eye.
"It's a signal, I believe," said Bray. "Well, we'll take the drift now,
at any rate. If we are to have a fight here, I prefer it by daylight."
And he ordered a trooper to gallop back to the camp with instructions to
saddle up and inspan immediately.
In a surprisingly short space of time the troop was ready to march. But
a delay occurred through Minton's rotten harness, which kept giving way
in all sorts of unexpected directions. Inspector Bray cursed hideously
to himself; but for the presence of the women he might have earned
heartfelt admiration from his troop at large by reason of his proficient
originality in that direction. Willing hands, and handy ones, there
were and plenty, but by the time the damage was repaired quite a
considerable portion of precious time had been wasted.
Again at the drift more delay. The storekeeper's wretched horses stuck.
All the flogging in the world was of no use; and there was the trap in
the middle of the stream, the water flowing through the bottom boards
soaking everything, and the woman and children howling dismally. Had an
attack been delivered then the result might have been disastrous. But
Ben Halse outspanned his pair and hitched them on, and by this aid, and
much shouting and flogging, the whole outfit emerged, panting and
dripping on the opposite bank. By then a great deal more valuable time
had been lost. And it was nearly sundown, and about seven miles of the
most dangerous and bushy part of the road had to be negotiated.
The early afternoon was drawing in, and there is little or no twilight
in those latitudes. They had covered about three miles from the drift,
when suddenly and without any warning a mass of Zulus rose up from the
bush on One side of the road, and roaring "_Usutu_!" charged down upon
the front of the column. They were naked, save for their _mutyas_ and
ornaments of flowing cowhair, and carried shields and bright,
business-like assegais.
"Sapazani's people," exclaimed Ben Halse. "Look out for the chief,
boys. You can't mistake him once you sight him--half a head taller than
the longest here."
There was not even time to dismount, but the revolvers of the police at
such close quarters, aimed low, poured such a terrific fire into the
advancing mass that those behind could not come on for the line of
writhing, struggling bodies that lay in front.
"Give it them again, boys," yelled Sub-Inspector Dering, lifting the top
off the skull of a gigantic savage who was clutching at his bridle rein
with one hand, a broad assegai held ready to strike in the other. The
great body toppled over with a thud, and at the same time another
crashing volley sent many more to earth, the residue dropping into cover
again. With splendid discipline the troop resumed its march.
Fresh cartridges were slapped into the pistols; it seemed likely to
prove a revolver duel, in that the bush was too thick to admit of using
rifles. The trained horses, being all together, had shown themselves
wonderfully free from restiveness. As for the men, an extraordinary
thrill of excitement had run through all ranks. This was battle indeed,
and, so far, they had held their own.
For a few minutes they kept on in silence, with pulses tingling, but
cool-nerved, alert, ready for any fresh move. Then a volley broke
forth, flashing redly from the dim duskiness of the slope. Bullets
hummed over the heads of the troop, two of them splintering the side of
Ben Halse's spider. Verna, who had got out her magazine rifle, and was
straining her eyes in search of a mark, heard them and moved not a
muscle. Her father, who was driving, but whose revolver was ready to
his hand, also took no notice. But just before the volley ceased down
went a trooper almost under the wheels of the trap.
"In here with him," cried Verna, springing to the ground, and herself
helping to lift the stricken man in. He was badly hurt, too, and
insensible, but there was little enough time then for attending the
wounded, for immediately a fresh volley was poured in. This time two
troopers fell, one shot stone dead. The concealed savages raised a
deafening roar of exultation.
But now some of them began to show themselves. There was a break in the
dense bush, and in their eagerness they began to cross this too soon.
The order for half the escort to dismount was followed by a volley from
the rifles. It was now too dark to see the result clearly but from the
vengeful yells that went up it was obvious that more than one bullet had
gone home. Again the volleys roared redly through the night.
A chain is no stronger than its weakest link, which for present purposes
may be taken to mean that two of the prospectors' horses had gone dead
lame. After the repulse of the first attack the escort had been going
at a trot, and the prospectors, who had been bringing up the rear, had
dropped dangerously behind, and among all the noise and firing their
shouts to that effect had gone unheard. One, galloping furiously up,
now brought the intelligence.
"Dickinson, ten men and come along," yelled Dering, who was looking
after the rear of the column. "Those devils'll have 'em if we ain't
sharp."
It happened that Denham had been chatting with the sergeant,
incidentally little dreaming of the nature of the other's furtive
interest in him. Now that there was a call to the rescue he dashed off
with the party. These they came up with not far down the road. Robson
had been hit by a bullet and badly wounded, and a comrade was supporting
him on his horse. Stride's horse was one of the lame ones, and Stride
himself was doing all he knew by kicks and blows and cursed to urge that
noble but unreliable animal onward. Just then the enemy seemed to
become aware that something was wrong.
"Look out, sir," warned Dickinson to his officer. "On the right!"
They could hear the bushes parting, the thud of running feet. Then
Stride's horse fell.
"Here, jump up, man!" cried Denham. "Up behind me. My horse is as
strong as the devil."
"_Usutu_!" broke from the onrushing crowd. "_Usutu, 'Sutu_!"
The savage forms were almost in among them now--assegais ready.
"Quick, quick, damn it!" shouted Denham. Stride hesitated no longer,
and the horse with its double burden started off after the rest.
The roar of the war-shout was right in their ears now. They had just
regained their comrades when something seemed to strike Denham with a
debilitating numbness, followed by a spasm of the most intense agony.
His hold relaxed. He was conscious of a roaring inside his head, and
out of it. The whole world seemed to be whirling round with him.
Rescuers and rescued reached the column just in time, just as another
fierce attack was delivered. But again that well-directed volley was
available, and the assailants dropped back. Moreover, the bush ended
here, and in the face of that determined repulse the savages had no
stomach for trying their luck in the open. The troop moved on
unmolested.
Then was heard a voice, a clear, woman's voice, audible in the still
night to every man in the whole escort.
"Where is Mr Denham?"
A thrill of instinctive consternation ran through all who heard.
Denham's name was called up and down the line of march, but with no
result. In the confusion attendant on the last close attack on the
rescue party nobody had seen anybody. It had been very much a case of
every man for himself. Some one, however, had seen Denham mount Stride
behind him on his horse. And then Stride himself came forward.
"You left him," said Verna, her pale face and gleaming eyes looking
dreadful in the brilliant starlight. "He saved you, and you left him.
You coward!"
"So help me, God, I didn't!" objected Stride vehemently. "I don't
really know what happened. I'll go back this moment and look for him.
Any one go with me?" looking around somewhat vacantly. "Then I'll go
alone." Then he swayed and tottered, pulled himself together, then
subsided on the ground, in total unconsciousness.
"He's hit, himself," said one of the police who were bending over the
wounded man. "Rather. He's got it bang through the chest."
Verna looked at the fallen man, and her bitter resentment left her, but
not her grief.
"I am going back to look for him," she said. "Who'll volunteer?"
"You shan't go," said her father decisively; "but I will. How many men
can you spare me, Bray?"
Inspector Bray was not pleased. Here he had brought off this expedition
with success, even with brilliancy, and now the kudos he would gain
would be utterly marred. For to allow any of his men to go on this
insane quest would mean to send them to their death. There was not a
chance of the missing man being found, except cut into small pieces.
Still, if it had been any other than Ben Halse--and, besides, that white
face, those eyes, gleaming in the starlight!
"You can have ten," he said gruffly, "if you can get as many to
volunteer."
Ten? The whole troop wanted to volunteer on the spot. But the ten were
chosen.
"I'll be somethinged if I follow up this investigation any further,"
said Sergeant Dickinson, who was one of those chosen, to himself, as
they set out. "He may have killed a hundred blanked `Sheenies' for all
I care. I'm not going to hunt down a chap like that. I'd rather chuck
the Force."
It may be said that the search party utterly failed in its object. It
was met by overwhelming numbers, and there was nothing for it but a
precipitate retreat upon the column again.
Then and for all the days to come Verna Halse realised that for her the
light of the world had gone out.