It was in the last few days of October, when the hot season and the
rains of South Africa were about to set in, that Jack Somerton and his
friends at length found safety in the beleaguered town of Kimberley,
after their stubborn and protracted fight in the farmhouse of the
Russels. By this time the war had been many days in progress, for
President Kruger's ultimatum was despatched on October 9th, and
hostilities had commenced on the afternoon of the 11th by an invasion of
British territory.
We have seen that to meet that invasion and to stem the flow of the
jubilant Boers there were only some 20,000 English regulars in South
Africa at the time; and to these the feat of rolling back the
overwhelming forces of the burghers in Natal, the protection of our
northern towns in Cape Colony, and the garrisoning of Mafeking and
Kimberley was a practical impossibility. Yet, with the dogged pluck and
determination for which their predecessors had ever been known, that
small army had done wonders already.
By October 6th, when war seemed so inevitable, 10,000 additional troops
were ordered to be despatched forthwith to South Africa; and since the
case was an urgent one, the regiments in India, which are always kept on
a war footing, were mainly drawn upon.
But to transport men, guns, horses, and ammunition from India to Africa,
or across the 6000 miles of heaving water which intervene between
England and Cape Colony, is no small matter. Indeed it is a gigantic
undertaking. Transports have to be chartered and specially prepared;
food, forage for the horses, arms, medicines, tents, clothing, and a
thousand-and-one more items, all of great importance, have to be
conveyed, and cannot be prepared in a minute. But in spite of all
difficulties the 10,000 troops were soon afloat and _en route_ for the
scene of the war.
Contrast for a moment these almost insurmountable difficulties with
those of the Boer nation with whom we were contending. For them the
only items which called for special transport were guns and ammunition.
For the burghers a train journey of some twenty hours, or a long march
on horseback of, at the most, 200 miles, brought them to the borders,
and all need, for the time being, of a commissariat train was obviated
by the fact that each and every man carried on his own person, or
attached to his saddle, sufficient ammunition and food to last him
several days.
But the fact that the Orange Free State had thrown in its lot with the
Transvaal Republic called for bigger forces, and on October 7th, the day
following the order for the above 10,000 troops, the Home Government
gave instructions for the calling up of 25,000 of our Reserves, and the
mobilisation of an army corps and of one cavalry division. Parliament
was also summoned specially to meet on October 17th.
Ten days were given for the Reserves to present themselves, and these
ten days may be easily described as a time of intense anxiety to the
nation.
The old days of lifelong service in the army had disappeared, and now
young men who joined the ranks did so for a few years only, after which
they were in a condition of thorough military training, and were at
liberty to go back to civil life as reserves. In this capacity they
were paid a certain sum per diem for a limited number of years, and were
liable during that time to be called back to don the queen's uniform and
carry a rifle should their country have need of their services. It was
an experiment, and one for which England will never have cause to blame
herself.
The revival of the Boer trouble, the memory of Amajuba and Laing's Nek,
together with the fact that this present war was forced upon us against
our wishes, sent a thrill of patriotic fervour through the length and
breadth of the land.
Almost 100 per cent of the Reserves answered the call, and the few
absentees were for the most part at sea in merchant vessels. Nor was
this all. When England found herself face to face with a gigantic
struggle, that generosity for which all her people have been noted was
shown on every hand. If the manhood of the country could respond so
nobly to the call to arms, then they should be rewarded for it, and
those who were left behind would make it their duty to care for the
helpless wife and child.
Everywhere employers showed their patriotic spirit by declaring that
those of their servants who left for the war should find their places
waiting for them when they returned. And not only that, a large
proportion at once arranged to pay half wages to the wife or dependants
of the reservist, thus lifting a load of anxious care from the brave
fellows' minds.
Thousands of pounds were subscribed for the maintenance of the homeless
refugees from Johannesburg and other places, and later on large funds
were raised, so that the widows and orphans of all the gallant men of
the army or navy who gave their lives for their country might never know
what it was to want. Money privately subscribed provided hospital ships
and beds, and in this manner our American cousins showed their
friendship, for they equipped and despatched _The Maine_ for the
treatment of our wounded.
To even mention each and every one of the incidents which showed the
fervid patriotism of the people, and their intense loyalty to and love
for their beloved queen, would be impossible.
But no description of our preparations for this war is complete without
a reference to the splendid patriotism of our colonies and of our home
volunteers. Unasked, they clamoured loudly to participate in the
struggle, and while for the time being our own citizen soldiers were not
accepted, contingents of splendid men were welcomed from Canada,
Australia, and New Zealand.
Thus it will be seen that England prepared for war, a war which it was
confidently expected would be of short duration. An army corps was
mobilised, and those who, by family ties or by reason of their civil
duties, were compelled to stay at home, saw to their particular part of
the patriotic work.
And then, when all was ready, they first of all despatched Sir Redvers
Buller, one of our finest veterans, to take command of the accumulating
army in South Africa, and afterwards, for many days in succession,
accompanied the soldiers in shouting, cheering thousands to Waterloo
Station, and sent them off on the first stage of their long journey with
many a "God-speed!" and with hoarse cheers which showed how truly their
good wishes went with them.
And who amongst us who formed one of that crowd did not feel a strange
rising in the throat and an inability to say exactly all we wished to
those who were leaving England--perhaps for the last time? We longed to
join the gallant fellows, and when we saw one of them turn aside for the
moment, just to brush away the tears that would come, and get his lips
steady again ere he bade a long farewell to his weeping wife and, most
likely, to the infant in her arms, our hearts prompted us to step
forward and wring his hand, just to show him that we thought all the
more of him for his feeling.
Those were stirring scones indeed, and that great lady and the country
for whom all our gallant troops were about to sail over the sea will
never, never forget them. What happened to those brave men and officers
we despatched will be described in due course. The surprising strength
of the enemy, their careful and long-thought-out preparations, and their
modern and overpowering armaments will be spoken of, as will the painful
events which led to England's awakening. For the present we shall leave
her with the eyes of all her people at home and in the colonies turned
hopefully and anxiously to that far-off field of battle, while we return
to Jack Somerton and his friends in Kimberley.
On the morning after their safe arrival in the town, Tom Salter took
Wilfred and Jack to the conning-tower erected in the De Beers compound
and pointed out the various points in the defences. It was a remarkable
scene. In all directions were huge mounds of debris removed from the
diamond mines, and these, with the help of ample native labour, had been
converted into fortresses, while outside all was an entanglement of
barbed wire completely surrounding the town. From their elevated
position they could look down on every post, and to Jack, who had been
in the town many times before, and indeed to anyone, it was most strange
to see the townsmen and regulars manning the defences or scouting
outside, while down below them 10,000 natives laboured in the huge
compound, delving for the diamonds which after all might fall into the
Boers hands.
"Just shows what we think of those fellows," laughed Tom Salter, jerking
his thumb in the direction of the Boer laagers. "They have been round
us since the 14th of this month, and they've done nothing but look on
all the time. If we were in their places I expect we should just make
one big rush to take the town; but your Boer hates that kind of work,
and so is content to look on while guns are coming from Pretoria. Then,
I expect, they will make us jump a little."
"How many men have you here?" asked Jack.
"About 3000 all told," answered Tom. "We are under the command of
Colonel Kekewich, and Cecil Rhodes is here to keep us company. A good
number of our force are colonial troopers and volunteers, but we have
the 1st Battalion of the Loyal North Lancashire Regiment here, besides a
few gunners and engineers. I can tell you, my boy, we shall be a pretty
tough lot to conquer. Why, only a few days ago we made a sortie towards
Macfarlane's Farm in the north, and bagged a number of the Boers,
including Commandant Botha. We had 3 killed and 21 wounded--not a great
loss when you consider the work we did. It was grand fun, and I've no
doubt, now that Cronje has given Mafeking up as hopeless and come down
here, we shall give them another taste. Now tell me all the outside
news. How did you get across to Johnny's Burg, and what have you been
doing since? Last night you spoke of Glencoe and Ladysmith. 'Pon my
word, Jack, you are just like the proverbial bad penny. You seem to
turn up all over the place."
Jack laughed heartily at Tom Salter's remark, and then proceeded to tell
him about his adventures since leaving Kimberley. Then Tom in turn told
him all that had happened during his absence.
It seemed that Kimberley was by no means unprepared. Both Government
and the De Beers Company had poured supplies and arms into the town, and
there was sufficient to last for many weeks. The water-supply had been
cut off, but there was plenty to be obtained in the town, and there was
therefore no fear on that point. Altogether the inhabitants were faring
better than might have been expected. All food was to be had at
standard prices, and they were protected by a force which, if not too
ample, at any rate made up for their lack of numbers by a dauntless
determination to hold the town.
No one was allowed to leave the neighbourhood of the defences or to
enter the town without a signed permit, and this was strongly adhered
to, for, as in Mafeking, and indeed in our camps in any part of South
Africa, spies swarmed everywhere.
But if the garrison were determined to hold the town, they were equally
prepared to make the time pass easily. Mr Cecil Rhodes, the
administrator of Rhodesia and at once a brilliantly clever and most
popular man, dispensed hospitality on every side. He gave dinners and
dances to enliven the people, and at one of them, which occurred on the
night after their arrival, Jack was present with the Russels, and
waltzed with Eileen to the strains of inspiriting music. Then they
slipped out, and, climbing on a mound near by, stared across the veldt
at the Boer laagers and then back at the defences of Kimberley, all
easily distinguishable under the rays of a glorious moon.
"How lovely it all looks in this light!" said Eileen gently. "What a
pity that there should be such a thing as war! But I can see it is
necessary, for if the English troops did not fight they would be driven
out of the country, and then none of us would be safe. I am sorry about
the old home too. I loved it and the flower-garden; but it was far
better to defend it as we did than give in to the Boers. Jack, do you
know I have never really thanked you for all you did, and for saving me
from that brutal man. Only last night Father said that we owed our
lives to you. I am proud of you, Jack! Shake hands!"
Jack was astonished. He stuttered, grew confused, and then dropped
Eileen's hand as though it were a hot coal, for he was a bashful lad,
and in a terrible fright all the time that Eileen would burst into tears
or throw herself in his arms in the excitement of the moment.
"Oh, never mind what I did, Eileen!" he blurted out. "I'd have done it
for anyone else; and Wilfred deserves your thanks as much as I do. Now
let us go in."
Eileen obeyed, feeling glad that she had at last thanked her preserver.
She had met Jack many times, and had come to know that he was a plucky,
good-looking young Englishman. That he had taken her thanks so
brusquely did not jar her feelings. She understood him, and knew that
though he did not show it he was really gratified. Therefore, taking
his arm again, she returned to the dancing-room, and five minutes later
she was watching her stalwart hero waltzing round, with a light in her
dark eyes which, had he seen it, would have set his heart beating. But
Jack had other matters to think about, and on the following morning
approached Tom Salter on the matter.
"I came up here to act as a despatch-rider," he said, "and I want you to
help me. I know the country all round as well as anyone, and ought to
be able to get through. Whom ought I to apply to?"
"No need to apply to anyone," answered Tom. "I saw one of the officers
last night, and told him all about you. News came in three days ago
from the south, and you also brought information when you came. What we
want to know is how Mafeking is getting on, and I expect you will be
asked to ride in that direction. It will be ticklish work, my boy, but
it seems to me that you are specially suited for it, for you have
already ridden more than once in the enemy's country. Come with me now
to head-quarters and I will send in your name."
Jack followed him through the town, and a few minutes later was shown
into the commanding-officer's rooms. Here he was cordially greeted, and
before anything was said about the ride to Mafeking he was urged to tell
the officers present all about the defence of Mr Russel's house. Then
he was asked whether he was willing to ride to the north with
despatches.
Jack answered that he was, and promised to be ready to set out that
evening.
"Very well," said one of the officers, "we will have the despatches
ready for you. Come here at dusk and you will find a good horse waiting
to carry you. Above all, do not let anyone know that you are to start.
There are spies everywhere."
Jack promised to observe this precaution, and without even dropping so
much as a hint to Wilfred, who joined him a few minutes later, walked
all round the defences of the town.
Late in the afternoon he filled his bandolier, saw that the magazines of
his rifle and pistol were prepared, and then walked into the room where
the Russels, Tom Salter, and Wilfred were. There was now no reason for
keeping his mission a secret, and as he joined the party in a cup of
afternoon-tea he told them that he was about to set out for Mafeking.
Wilfred's face at once showed his disappointment, for he would have
gladly accompanied his friend; while Eileen went suddenly pale to the
lips, and almost dropped her cup. But she recovered herself quickly,
and said good-bye cheerfully.
"Good-bye, Jack!" she murmured earnestly. "Take care of yourself, for
we should all be sorry if you were captured."
"By Jove, old chap," Wilfred broke in impetuously, "I wish I were going
with you! It will be awfully flat here without you to liven us up. I
only hope we shall have plenty of fighting while you are away.
Good-bye, and if you meet any of the Boers just give them fits! You're
well able to."
Frank Russel and Tom Salter slapped him heartily on the back and wished
him luck, and in another moment he was striding up the street, with
clanking spurs, looking a typical young colonist, and one, moreover,
well able to take care of himself.
Arrived at the head-quarter office, he was shown in, and accosted by the
same officer as before.
"Here are your despatches," he said, producing a thin piece of
tissue-paper very finely written upon, "and now we must decide where to
hide them. It is an important document, and if it fell into the Boers'
hands would do us a large amount of harm. What do you think of the
puggaree round your hat for a hiding-place?"
"Well, it seems to me," replied Jack, "that that is just the kind of
thing they would search. I have been thinking about it as I came along,
and believe that a far safer place will be in the case of my Mauser
pistol. Here it is, under my arm, and it has already escaped
detection."
"Splendid! Of course that will be far and away the best place,"
exclaimed the officer. "And now, in case the Boers should capture you,
here is a letter stating that you are a despatch-rider acting for the
British. Without that they would probably shoot you as a spy. Now you
can start as soon as you like. If you reach Mafeking in safety, tell
the boys there that all goes swimmingly with us, and we hope it is the
same with them. Well, good-bye, Somerton, and the best of luck go with
you!"
They shook hands, and Jack clattered downstairs and into the street,
where he found a shaggy-looking horse waiting for him. In a moment he
had vaulted lightly into the saddle, and was riding away towards the
nearest gate which lay to the east. He had chosen this purposely, for
had the Boers obtained an inkling of the direction in which he was to
ride, the telegraph wire which was at their service between the two
beleaguered towns would have warned all the burghers to look out for
him. At the gate he was challenged, and on giving a special pass-word,
which he had been instructed to use, a lamp was flashed for a moment on
his face, and he was allowed to proceed.
"Good luck to yer, mate!" said the sentry who had received the
countersign. "Give our best respects to the chaps up north, and tell
them we're having a fine time down this way. Ta, ta, old horse! Mind
the palings as you go out; they are a bit inclined to scratch yer."
"So long, Joey!" laughed Jack cheerfully, recognising the sentry as one
of the volunteers he had met the night before.
Cantering on he carefully avoided the high fence of barbed wire, and,
riding through an opening in it, was almost immediately challenged by a
picket, and was compelled to pull up suddenly, to find a couple of
bayonets pointed at his chest.
"Gently, boys!" he called out in a low voice. "You'll be sticking those
things through me next time. I'm Jack Somerton, and `Buller' is the
pass-word."
"Right; `Buller' it is," was the answer. "Pass on, Jack, and go easy
when you get half a mile away; there's a lot of our dear Boer friends
prowling about over there."
Jack thanked the man for his advice, and cantered on again. Then he
pulled up, dismounted, and led his pony along over the grass, pausing
every now and again to listen and search the darkness in all directions.
At this moment the search-light from the town was suddenly turned on,
and passing well above his head was flashed across the veldt in front of
him, and then all round till it fell upon the same spot again.
Jack stopped where he was and followed it carefully with his eyes.
Again it flashed round the town, and then was suddenly cut off, leaving
everything in absolute darkness. Springing on his pony, Jack touched it
with his spurs and galloped ahead, and did not draw rein again till he
had ridden a good five miles. Then he dismounted for a few minutes, and
having allowed the animal sufficient time to rest, jogged on at a gentle
canter, the most comfortable pace at which to cover a long distance.
There was no difficulty about keeping in the right direction, for his
rides with Tom Salter had taught him how to make use of the stars as
guides, so that he went on for several hours with a short halt here and
there, and by three in the morning found himself well on the way to
Vryburg, and only a few miles to the west of the railway.
By this time the clouds on his left hand were already beginning to
lighten, warning him that ere long dawn would sweep over the wide range
of veldt, and that unless he wished to be discovered by the enemy he had
better set about finding some hiding-place. Fortunately there was no
difficulty in this, for he was now well in the bush country which
stretches in a wide belt north and south of Vryburg. Up to this he had
ridden by the side of it, but now he turned to the left, and, jumping to
the ground, led his pony on amongst the bushes. Threading his way
carefully between the clumps of mimosa and cactus, and the still more
painful wait-a-bit thorns, he at length came to a small and precipitous
kopje, covered with rugged boulders and bush, and clambered up to the
top.
Here he found a small hollow almost surrounded with boulders, and with
sufficient grass to give his pony a good feed, and still allow room for
himself to lie down. It was just the place for a secret camp, and five
minutes later he had taken possession of it. Vic--as he had called the
pony in memory of his favourite--was soon knee-haltered and busily
picking at the herbage, and Jack was equally busy devouring some bread
and meat he had brought in his haversack.
By the time he had satisfied his hunger and lit a pipe there was bright
daylight, and, crawling to the edge of the kopje, he squeezed his body
between two of the boulders, and with the help of his glasses made a
thorough survey of his surroundings. About six miles on his right the
snakelike track of the giant railway from Cape Town _via_ Kimberley and
Mafeking to Buluwayo, met his eye, while away in the distance was
Vryburg, looking like a white blotch against the green bush which almost
surrounded it.
But nowhere was there a Boer to be seen, and, satisfied that for the
present he ran no chance of discovery, Jack lay down on his mackintosh
sheet, wrapped himself in his blanket, and with his head resting on his
saddle was soon fast asleep.
Shortly after noon he woke again, and there being no one in sight he
saddled up, and, leading his horse to the foot of the kopje, pushed
forward on the long ride to Mafeking. But though all seemed quiet, he
was not to reach his destination without some startling adventures. Had
he but known it, three roughly-dressed Boers had caught sight of his
figure as he left his hiding-place, and, following him cautiously
through the bush, had soon surrounded him. Wide-awake as Jack generally
was, it was only when a horseman mounted on a snaggy pony suddenly
appeared in front of him that he became aware that there was a Boer
within miles of him. To halt and glance all round was the work of an
instant only, and showed him the figures of two other horsemen hemming
him in on every side. Next moment he had slipped to the ground and had
unslung his rifle. Fortunately he happened to be riding through a thick
part of the bush, so that, lying flat on the ground, he was completely
invisible to the advancing Boers. When within three hundred yards of
him all three halted and shouted to him to surrender. By this time, in
spite of the sharp spikes and thorns, Jack had crawled a little way into
the bush and was some feet from his pony. Then, gently kneeling up, he
lifted his head inch by inch and looked about. Immediately surrounding
him was a thick clump of mimosa bush which completely hid him, while the
Boers, seated upon their animals, were well above the top of it.
"I'll wait a moment where I am," thought Jack, "and if they fire I will
pick one of them off and crawl away to another position at once. Then
I'll fire at another. There are three of them, but after all I am in a
good position, and unless they gallop in and finish me, I ought to get
safely away."
Once more one of the Boers shouted to him to surrender, and as Jack kept
silent, all three fired at the bush close to his pony, one of the
bullets killing the poor animal instantly, while another passed through
the top of Jack's hat, as he happened to be just in the line of fire.
In no way put out by the occurrence, though his hat leapt from his head,
Jack hastily replaced it, and, lifting his rifle, fired at the man whose
bullet had so nearly been the means of ending his career. At such a
short range it was not a difficult shot, and the Boer threw up his arms
and fell backwards over the quarters of his pony with a bullet through
his chest.
Next moment there were two sharp reports, and the ominous swish, swish
of Mauser projectiles flying close above him. But Jack escaped unhurt,
and though the Boers emptied their magazines into that part of the bush
they did not touch him, for a second after firing he had again dropped
on all-fours and crawled away to the left. Once more he lifted his
head, to find the two remaining horsemen, rifle in hand, standing up in
their stirrups and searching the thick mimosa shrubs in front of them,
ready to open fire the instant he showed himself.
Jack crawled on a little farther till he came to a spot where, still
lying prone on the ground, it was possible to get a good sight of the
enemy. Taking a careful aim, he once more fired, and had the
satisfaction of seeing another of the Boers fall, while the third
hastily discharged his rifle and galloped away, Jack sending a bullet
whizzing after him.
Then he rose to his feet and strode over to the man who had just tumbled
from his pony. He was quite dead, and as Jack had no means of burying
him he left him there in the bush, and, taking his pony, which had, like
all well-trained animals, remained close by his master's side, he walked
across to look at the other Boer. He found the poor fellow in the
centre of a dense thorn bush, groaning feebly, while a thin stream of
blood ran from his lips.
But a minute before he had been an enemy, and had, indeed, very nearly
been the death of Jack; but for all that he was now a fellow-being in
distress, and Jack determined to do what he could for him. He was a
big, bearded man of thirty-five, and no light weight to lift. But
Jack's strong arms soon carried him on to an open patch of grass. Then
he gave him a drink from his water-bottle, and proceeded to look to his
wound. There was little to be seen, merely a small puncture in front of
the chest and a slightly larger one behind. Searching in the man's
pocket, Jack produced a scarf and tied it tightly round the chest. Then
he gave him another drink, and five minutes later had the satisfaction
of finding him stronger and able to speak. "Where are your friends?" he
asked. "If they are near, and you will promise that I shall not be
taken prisoner, I will carry you to them."
"They are at Vryburg," the wounded man answered in a whisper; "but I
cannot promise that they would not take you prisoner. Elof Vuurren is
no lover of the English. It would be better for you to leave me to die
alone."
Jack thought the matter over for a few moments. If he left the poor
fellow in the bush he knew that his fate was sealed, for he would never
be found. Why should he not risk it, and show these Boers that the
English could be kind and good to them, and not, as the field-cornets
and leaders were always telling the burghers, cowards and brutes. Jack
looked again at the wounded man, and the sight of his helpless and
pitiable condition at once decided him. Unwinding the puggaree from the
Boer's hat, he brought one of the ponies close alongside him, and
putting out all his strength, lifted him into the saddle. Then he
lashed his ankles together beneath the pony's body, and, leading the
spare animal by the reins, set off for Vryburg through the bush.
It was a long and tedious march, but in three hours' time he was
opposite the town, and, leaving the belt of scrub in which he had been
walking, he turned into the open. A mile farther on thirty Boers came
cantering towards them, and, taking a hurried farewell of the wounded
man, Jack vaulted on to the other pony and cantered off.
A few minutes later the wounded Boer was amongst his comrades, and,
looking back, Jack saw him feebly moving his arms as though explaining
the manner in which the Englishman had brought him in, and begging them
not to follow him. But the sight of one of the hated Rooineks proved
too much for the Boers, and with a shout they left their comrade, and,
putting their animals into a mad gallop, came thundering after Jack.
In a moment he had dug his spurs into the wiry little animal upon whose
back he rode, and, turning towards the bush again, galloped directly
towards it at his fastest pace. When within 300 yards of the mimosa
scrub another body of horsemen appeared directly in front of him, riding
amongst the thorn bushes, and as soon as they caught sight of him, and
of the men who were pursuing him, they scattered to right and left and
rode off, leaping the rocks and bushes in their way, and evidently
intending to surround him.
It was a desperate predicament, but Jack's coolness never deserted him,
and he instantly decided how to act. Turning sharply to the right, he
galloped on at the same headlong pace parallel to the belt of bush, but
drawing closer to it. Suddenly he turned to the left again, and,
applying his spurs, set his pony straight for the centre of the Boers
who had appeared in front of him.
It was a smart manoeuvre, for the horsemen had already separated, so
that by the time Jack reached the line of bush there were only two in
front of him. His rifle was already in his hand and his bayonet fixed.
Holding the weapon ready to strike, he charged straight at the two
Boers, who levelled their rifles at him and fired. One of the bullets
flew close by his head, and the other actually struck and severed his
stirrup leather without touching him. In an instant Jack dropped his
reins and raising his rifle, took a hasty aim, and pulled the trigger.
It was a lucky shot, for one of the ponies pitched forward, throwing its
rider violently over its head.
The other man boldly stood his ground, and, rising in his stirrup, took
a deliberate aim and sent a bullet swishing so close past Jack's head
that it cut his ear. Before he could repeat the shot Jack was on him,
and had thrust his bayonet through him and swept him off his saddle.
After that there was a quarter of an hour of the wildest excitement.
Tearing madly forward, his pony leapt everything that came in its path
and soon outdistanced the pursuers, who had halted at the fringe of bush
and were now sending volleys after him. But horse and rider seemed to
bear a charmed life, till an unlucky bullet struck the plucky little
animal and caused it to fall. Jack went flying some yards ahead into a
thick mimosa bush, which broke his fall, and, extricating himself and
picking up his rifle, darted off. Showers of bullets followed him, but
by bending low he escaped them all, and an hour later was in the heart
of the bush and safe from the pursuing Boers. By that time he was
thoroughly exhausted. He threw himself panting on the ground and
remained motionless for a long time. Then he rose to his feet once more
and set off in the direction of Mafeking.
All that night he trudged on, and spent the following day beneath the
shade of a friendly thorn bush. Then he started again, and reached his
destination just as the next day was dawning. Footsore and weary, he
staggered up to one of the pickets, and, hastily answering his hail of
"Who goes there?" with "Friend", snatched at the man's water-bottle and
greedily gulped down the contents. Then, feeling stronger and more
refreshed, he limped on into the town and handed his despatches to the
redoubtable Baden-Powell, who welcomed him heartily.