"There's music, sonny, in the veld and bush, and in the night cries of
the wild animiles and birds; but I yeard onct a sound I shall never
forget, and I guess there was in it a whole book of potery. But you
ain't finished about your podder."
"Never mind the frog, the snake has swallowed him by this. Tell me the
story."
"Well it were in the Borna Pass, time of the Kaffir War, and the ole
94th were halted in the jaws of the pass, waitin' for the cool of the
afternoon before they marched. I recomember it well--the dark woods in
the narrow pass rising up till they 'most shut out the sky; the
red-coats down by the water; the smoke rising in tall columns from the
cooking fires; the horses standing in a bunch switching the flies offen
'em; the oxen knee-deep in the water; and a silence born of the hot sun
over all. It were as quiet as Sunday down in the mouth of the pass,
with the sun running up and down the bayonets like fire, and no red to
stain them, for there was no news of Kaffirs within a day's march.
"I yeard a honey-bird call outer the black of the wood, and I jes' moved
off with nothin' mor'n a pipe and a clasp-knife.
"`Where you going, Abe?' said a little bugler chap, lookin' up from the
shade of a bush.
"`Bee huntin', sonny.'
"`I'll come along o' you,' he sed; `as there ain't no bloomin' Kafs to
hunt, bees'll do.'
"He were a little chap, with his lips all cracked by the sun, and a
little nose that you couldn't see for the freckles, and brown eyes like
you see in a bird or a buck--clear and bright. Always he were on the
move, like a willey-wagtail, and him and me were chums. Ah yes; many a
story I tole him by the camp fire, him a sitting with his chin in his
hands staring at me with his big round eyes, and they called him `Abe's
kid,' 'cos I downed a fellow for boosting him with a leather belt. I
tole you how a little dream lad had come to me one night outer the sea;
that were he, my son--that were my little boy."
"Did he die?" I said, looking at the old man.
"He went away, sonny, but he said he'd wait for me, and he'll keep his
word." There was a wistful look in the old man's face as he looked
towards the sea for some time in silence. "Yes; we slipped inter the
wood, the honey-bird calling--the only sound outer the great stillness
of the woods, 'cept for the crushing of the dried leaves under our
tread, and the bird, flitting like a shadder from tree to tree, led us
on deeper and deeper into the heart of the Borna Pass, till I pulled up
to take bearings.
"`We must get away back, little chap,' I said.
"`Then it's not true what you tole me about the honey-bird?' and he
looked at me askance.
"`Why not?' said I.
"`'Cos there he is a calling like mad, same as ever. I don't believe
he's a honey-bird, and I don't believe any of them stories you've been
tellin' me. You're no pal of mine,' he said, looking at me with a
wrinkle 'tween his eyes.
"`I'm thinkin' we're gettin' too far from the lines,' I sed, `and you
ain't used to the bush if Kaffirs were to come.'
"`You're afraid,' he sed; `that's what.'
"`Come on,' I sed, like a fool; and I went on, stooping through the
bush, going mighty quick, and him panting after me. `I can smell
honey,' I sed, stopping short, and noticin' that the bird had done his
flight.
"`Garn!' he sed, wrinkling up his little nose. There was a holler tree
standin' up in a little clearin' no bigger'n a room, and the hum of the
bees came to us as we stood.
"`I see 'em,' he says; `look at 'em streaming in! What a lark! Cut a
hole with your knife,' he says, `'an I'll carry some honey back in this
bugle,' and he laughed.
"`Well,' says I, `who's been tellin' lies?'
"He laughed again.
"`I takes it back, Abe,' he says. `Oh my eye! Jes' look!'
"I seed then we'd clomb high up on the left side of the pass, and from
the clearin' there was a sight of the hanging woods over against us, of
the narrow path below, and the soldiers away down to the left.
"`Now you've seed the bee-tree,' I says, `we mus' go back.'
"`Jes' a little honey, Abe,' he says; `jes' a little to take back, else
that Jimmy'll never b'lieve I been up here.'
"I were looking across at the dark wood, and I said to him quietly, `Get
behind the tree,' for I'd seed a Kaffir stretched out on a grey rock
that stood outer the bush.
"`What's the row?' he says, looking a little scared. Maybe 'cos I
looked the same.
"`Take off that coat,' I sed; for the red showed up plain.
"`Take off the Queen's coat?' he sed, going red and white; `not me!'
"`My lad,' I sed to him quiet; `there are Kaffirs in the bush.'
"`What larx,' he sed in a whisper, and his eyes opening wide as he
stared at me.
"`And if you keep your coat on they'll see you.'
"`Let 'em,' he said, swallering his throat.
"`Take it off,' I said.
"`Not me.'
"`Then I leave you.' And with that I slipped away, but turned on my
tracks and come back softly to peer at him. He were still standing
behin' the tree, looking away off at the soldiers, but his coat were
buttoned up tight to his throat I went up to him tip-toe and touched him
on the soldier, and he gave a low cry and jumped aside with his fists
up. When he seed who it were, the tears came into his eyes.
"`Abe Pike,' he sed, tremblin', `that's a mean trick to play on a boy--a
mean dirty trick.'
"I allow it were mean, but I thought I'd skeer him into taking off that
red rag. Then I give it up. `Come on,' I sed, `foller me; stop when I
stop, run when I run, and keep quiet.'
"So we sot off tenderly through the bush, and we hadn't gone mor'n fifty
paces when I smelt the Kaffirs. I sank down; he did, too, and I peered
through the shadders. A sound came to us--the sound of naked feet, of
moving branches--and I knew the pass were full of men.
"He touched me on the arm as the bugle call to `fall in' rang along into
the still pass, ekering as it went from side to side.
"I put my mouth to his ear to tell him the Kaffirs were swarming, and
that we could not go on, but must go up the ridge and work round to the
troops.
"`What are the Kaffirs doing?' he sed.
"`They are making an ambush.'
"`And the General doesn't know?'
"`No, sonny, he doesn't.'
"`And they'll march in and be stabbed,' he whispered, with his eyes
round and staring.
"`Oh, they'll fight their way out,' I sed. `Come on after me.'
"`Good-bye,' he said, sitting down. `You go on--I'm tired.'
"`I'll carry you, little chap,' says I, and I picked him up, but he was
heavy for his size, and the bush was thick, and more than that, he
kicked.
"So I sot him down, and I yeard a Kaffir calling out to his friends to
know what the noise was. I motioned to him to come, but he sot there,
with his face white, and shook his head; then he altered his mind. `Go
on,' he said, `I'll foller--go quick!' So I sot off up the ridge
through the wood, slipping from tree to tree, thinking he were coming,
when all of a sudden outer the wood, ringing out clear and loud, a bugle
sounded the alarm. I looked round and the boy were not there. I ran
back, and saw him with the bugle to his lips, and his cheeks swelling as
he blew another blast. I can hear it now--the call of that little chap,
with the muttered cries of the Kaffirs, and the sound of their naked
feet running, as they came up.
"`You little devil,' I yelled; `they'll kill you. Run!'
"He gave me one look over his shoulder, and he put his life into that
last blow. As the last note went swinging away, there came an answering
note from the regiment--to form square.
"`That'll be Jimmy,' he said. And the next minnit an assegai struck him
on the neck, and he fell into my arms."
Abe stopped, and looked away.
"What, then?" I said, touching him on the shoulder.
"I don't know, sonny, what happened, till I laid him down afore the
General."
"You carried him out?"
"I s'pose so--I s'pose so--seeing as we were both there; and my clothes
were in rags from the thorns, and my head cut open with a kerrie. Yes,
I laid him afore the General.
"`What's this?' he says.
"`General,' I said, `this boy has saved the regiment; he could a' run--
but he didn't.'
"`Who sounded the alarm?' he sed.
"`It was him, and the pass is full of Kaffirs.'
"The General stooped down, and looked into the little feller's face.
"`Damn you, man,' he said, turning on me; `what did you take him into
the wood for?'
"The little chap opened his eyes, and they were fixed, all glazed, on
the General, and the officers stood around, looking, and the soldiers in
the square.
"The General brought his hand to his cap, then he wheeled round: `Ninety
fourth--present--arms!'
"The ranks came to a salute, and the officers brought their heels
together and their swords up.
"The little chap let his eyes scan the lines.
"`They are saluting you, my brave boy,' said the General.
"I felt him move in my arms, and I lifted his hand to his head to
salute. Then he sighed, then he smiled, and his eyes closed. `I'll
wait for you, Abe,' he said, and he was dead.
"`Ninety-fourth,' said the General, `the enemy's in the pass.'
"They came by in columns, and as they passed, they looked at the little
chap and saluted, and they went on in silence with their mouths shut.
"They clean frightened the Kaffirs that time; and next day--they buried
the little chap--the band playing--and all the regiment in full dress.
My little chap--my little chap!" said Abe, in a whisper--"`I'll wait for
you, Abe,' he sed. And when he sounds the bugle ole Abe'll go. Yes, I
sit and listen for it." He sat still, looking toward the sea, and I
went quietly away.