On the following day a mounted orderly dashed up to the tent in which
Jack was living with Mr Hunter and Mr Richardson, and handed him a
note. It was brief and terse, and asked him to call at once at a
certain house in the town, close to General White's quarters, where a
proposition would be made to him. Jack at once jammed his hat on his
head, and, slinging his rifle and bandolier over his shoulder, set out
to keep the appointment.
"Ah, good-day, Somerton!" said a young officer of the staff who was
standing outside the door of the house. "I waited for you here, and now
that you have come we will both go in. My business is the same as
yours, and I believe I may say I am about the luckiest beggar in the
camp to be chosen for this job."
"Why, what is the job?" Jack asked in some surprise. "Oh, you'll hear
all about that in a moment, old chap!" laughed the officer, whose name
was Poynter. "Come along in; they're waiting for us."
A second later Jack was ushered into a large room, with wide-open
windows, through which he could see the helmet and bayonet of a sentry
who was marching up and down just out of ear-shot. In the middle was a
table, on which were many large plans of Ladysmith and the
neighbourhood, while behind it, seated in cane chairs, and in their
shirtsleeves, for the heat was oppressive, were three more officers of
the staff.
"Good-day, Somerton!" said the central one, evidently the senior. "Sit
down there for a moment while I just finish this matter, and then we
will have a chat."
Jack shook hands with all of them, for he had met them many times
before, and then he and Poynter took their seats on a long form close to
the window, and waited while the officer finished a document upon which
he was engaged.
"Now," he said at last, throwing down his pen, "I am ready. We want you
to do something for us, Somerton, and we have sent for you particularly,
because the matter is one of some delicacy and of great consequence.
Shortly put, it is this. It is of vital importance that certain facts
and plans shall be conveyed to General Buller at Chieveley. Of course
we could employ one of our native runners, but they are not to be relied
upon in every case, and as this matter is of the utmost importance we
have decided to send Poynter and another. Will you be that other, my
lad? We have all heard about your despatch-carrying over at Kimberley
and at Mafeking; and here, too, we have learnt something about you. I
am sure you could get through the enemy's lines if anyone could, and
could guide Poynter. What do you say about it?"
"Just what I'd like, sir!" exclaimed Jack, springing to his feet in his
excitement. "I was on the point of volunteering my services as a
despatch-carrier when your orderly galloped up. I'll undertake the
matter with pleasure, and will do my best to steer Poynter clear with
me."
"That's good, Somerton," answered the officer with satisfaction, "but it
is just the answer I expected of you. Now, each of you will be provided
with the facts which General White wishes to convey to General Buller,
and we want you to commit them to memory. Then there will be no
despatches or papers to fall into Joubert's hands should you be
captured, and if only one of you happens to get through, he will still
be able to tell Buller what we mean to do. Come over here and sit down
by my side, and I will tell you all about it."
Half an hour later Jack and his young friend Poynter were fully primed
with official secrets of the greatest importance, and had committed them
so well to memory that there was no chance of their forgetting.
"Now, I think you have heard all the facts," exclaimed the officer, "and
I leave it to yourselves to arrange how you are to get through the
enemy's lines. I need not tell you how difficult the task is. The
knowledge will make you all the more determined. You must go just as
you are, so that the harshest of the Boers could not call you spies
should they capture you; and, Poynter, you will be well advised to place
yourself in Jack Somerton's hands. People say that he is as `slim' as
Kruger himself, and I know," added the staff-officer with a kindly
smile, "that he has any amount of pluck to back it up. Remember, both
of you, that this is a service of great danger, for which, if
successful, your queen and country will not fail to reward you."
The officer shook hands cordially with Jack and his friend, who stood
for one brief moment stiffly at attention, and saluted. Then they
hurried away to Poynter's tent, and, stretched full-length in
comfortable lounge chairs, discussed the situation.
"I shall do just as the colonel suggested," said the latter. "You've
run the gauntlet of these Boers before, and I shall place myself
unreservedly in your hands. When shall we start, and what route shall
we take? It's all one to me, so long as we get through."
"We shall start to-night, of course," answered Jack after a long pause.
"We have been told that it is important that our despatches should get
through as early as possible, and by setting out as soon as darkness
falls we ought to be at the Tugela by to-morrow night. Then, as regards
the road. I was chatting with `Israel', the native runner, a few days
ago, and he told me that patrols of Boers were scouring the country
everywhere, particularly to east and west, on either side of their lines
of trenches. It seems to me that, that being the case, a bold course
will be the safest. We could walk over to the neutral camp at Intombi
Spruit this evening, to visit the hospitals, and then cut across for
Nelthorpe. We shall be within twelve miles of the river, and with luck
might even cross it before morning. If not, there must be plenty of
dongas in which we could hide up for the day and keep out of sight of
the Boers."
"By Jove, I like that idea!" exclaimed Poynter with a gay laugh, "and
we'll have a shot at getting through to-night. What shall we carry with
us?"
"Our rifles and bayonets, and some provisions; enough to last three
days," Jack answered. "I think we've settled everything now, so I'll go
across to my friends. Expect me back at five o'clock, and we'll stroll
over to Intombi Spruit. Take my advice, Poynter, have the magazine of
your rifle filled in readiness for a tussle."
"Trust me!" answered Poynter. "Well, so long, Jack! I'll see you at
five."
Jack left him sitting in the shade of the tent inspecting his rifle,
with which every officer was now armed in place of a sword, the latter
having by its conspicuousness led to the death of many a poor fellow who
had been deliberately picked off by the Boer sharpshooters. Then he
walked across to Guy Richardson, who was progressing well, and
afterwards sat down and had a long chat with Mr Hunter.
"Good-bye, Jack, lad!" said the latter as the time arrived for his young
friend to keep his appointment with Poynter. "You're the most
venturesome young fellow I have ever come across, and if all goes well,
as I feel sure it will, we shall meet again before long. Give my love
to the wife when you get through, and tell all the boys that when we've
eaten all our horses we'll take to chewing grass before we hand over
Ladysmith and ourselves to the Boers. Wasn't I right, old boy, when I
told you long ago up in Johnny's Burg that Kruger and his pleasant
friends had a surprise in store for us. Ha, ha! they were going to
drive us into the sea, and eat fish dinners in Durban! And they had got
all the guns and men ready close to the frontier too! Remember that.
We've just checked them now, that's all, and both sides are sitting
still, watching one another. But, bless you! that won't win this grand
country for the Boers. They should be up and doing; instead of that,
they act on the defensive alone, save here and at Kimberley and
Mafeking, where we've pinched their tails pretty sharply for them
whenever they have attacked. And all the while our reinforcements are
pouring into the country. Mark my words, Jack. We've had a troublous
time, and we've lost many gallant lives, and shall lose more yet; but
the tide is on the turn, and soon it will be sweeping in full flood, not
towards the coast, but across the Orange Free State to Pretoria."
"Yes, I feel sure it will all come right in the end," answered Jack,
"and you may be certain of this, when that tide does turn I shall be
somewhere near the front, and on my way to renew my acquaintance with
his honour the President of the Transvaal Republic."
Jack shook hands cordially with Mr Hunter, promised to remember his
messages, and departed to join young Poynter. He found him burning with
impatience, and longing to set out.
Half an hour later they were sauntering across to Intombi Spruit, and
here they remained till darkness fell. Then they set out as if to
return to Ladysmith, for there was no saying that a spy might not be
watching them, and, slipping amongst a pile of boulders, they waited for
some moments to make sure that they were not followed. Ten minutes
later they had cut across to the left, and were tramping silently over
the veldt in the direction of Nelthorpe. For two hours they kept on
steadily, Jack carefully selecting a path which took them clear of
boulders and rocky ground. Then suddenly, as they climbed to the summit
of a long incline, they came in sight of an extended line of fires
flickering in front of them, and stretching on either hand as far as
they could see.
"The road is over to our left," whispered Jack, "and our best plan will
be to cut down to it boldly, and endeavour to slip through the lines.
We shall have to be very cautious, for there must be sentries posted."
After another glance at the twinkling dots of fire, Jack and his friend
pushed forward, but with renewed caution, and nearly an hour later
struck the main wagon-road leading through Nelthorpe and Pieters to
Colenso. Then, walking along on the turf which skirted the beaten
track, they slowly approached the lines in which the Boers were camped.
Soon a large collection of tents away on their left attracted their
attention, while the nickering embers now and again showed up a solitary
canvas shelter, or a tented wagon, in which no doubt those of the
burghers who were not on duty were asleep.
Suddenly the clatter of hoofs sounded behind them, and a few moments
later a pony cantered past, bearing a man upon its back.
Jack and his friend lay flat on the ground as the rider passed, and were
on the point of rising to their feet again when the pony was pulled up
almost in front of them, and a voice called out a little farther on, in
execrable English, which had a highly flavoured foreign accent: "Stop
there! Who is that? Advance and give the pass-word."
"Going rounds," was the answer. Then the rider walked his pony a few
feet towards the sentry, who could now be seen in the centre of the
road.
"Ha, you are wide-awake, I see!" the former exclaimed in a loud tone.
"It is only right that you and your friends from the Free State should
do something to help us. Be ready to pass a convoy of wagons. We are
sending down stores and ammunition to Colenso, besides a few boxes of
special shells for the big guns. Remember, `Kruger' is the pass-word.
Shoot anyone who does not know it." A moment later the Boer had ridden
away, and the sentry retired into the darkness at the farther side of
the road.
"Come back here, Poynter," whispered Jack, pulling him gently by the
sleeve.
Rising to their feet, they stepped noiselessly across the turf, and
retired some hundred yards from the road.
"Look here, Poynter, are you ready to try a risky game?" exclaimed Jack
shortly, when they were well out of ear-shot of the sentry. "If so, I
believe I have got hold of an idea which will get us safely through the
Boer lines."
"Of course I am," the young officer replied, with a gay laugh. "I place
myself altogether in your hands, and will back you up through thick and
thin. So heave ahead, and tell me all about it."
"To creep through those lines ahead of us will be next door to
impossible," said Jack, "for in the dark we might stumble right up
against a sentry, and if the alarm was once given we should have to make
a dash back towards Intombi Spruit. Now, it occurred to me that we
might get a lift amongst the wagons of this convoy. Each one will be
driven by a Kafir, who most likely will be walking alongside his team.
Let us select a covered cart and slip into it. There ought to be little
difficulty about it this dark night, and if we are lucky we might even
get into one drawn by a mule team, and afterwards make use of the
animals."
"By George, Jack, what a thing to think of!" exclaimed Poynter in
delight. "Why, it's about the biggest bit of cheek I ever heard of.
Still, it is just the kind of dodge to end successfully, and we'll do as
you say."
"Ah! I am glad you approve," Jack answered quietly; "and now all we
have to do is to sit down and wait for the convoy to turn up. By the
way, to avoid confusion I will pull your sleeve when the right wagon
comes along, and then, while you jump in behind, I will slip in in
front. Look out in case someone happens to be inside. It would be a
bit of bad luck, and if we failed to silence him, there would be nothing
for it but to bolt back to Ladysmith as fast as our legs would take us."
Poynter gave a low grunt to show that he understood, and a minute later,
having arranged all their plans, the two young fellows crept down to the
edge of the road once more, and hid up in an old and deserted Kafir hut
which stood some hundreds of yards from the sentry. They had scarcely
settled down when the low rumble of wheels in the distance attracted
their attention, and looking back towards Ladysmith, they saw a couple
of lanterns suddenly appear within a short distance of them. There was
a hoarse shout and a gruff reply as the driver answered the challenge,
while at the same moment the rays from the lanterns flashed upon a low,
tented wagon, drawn by a long team of mules, at whose head the figure of
a Kafir was for one brief second silhouetted against the light, to be
swallowed up in the darkness immediately after. Then another wagon came
into view, to be followed by another and another, each one of the long
string which composed the convoy being inspected by the men who carried
the lanterns.
"The first one that comes along is the one for us," whispered Jack.
"The driver is on this side of his team, so we will skip over to the
other side of the road. Wait till the wagon is directly in front, and
then hop in as quickly as you can."
"Right! I understand," was Poynter's answer.
By this time the convoy of stores was close at hand, creeping slowly
along the road, for many of the teams were composed of oxen, and were
consequently incapable of covering much more than two miles in an hour.
There were a few minutes of suspense, and then the mules which were
leading filed past Jack and his friend like so many ghosts, followed by
a lumbering, creaking wagon which groaned and rattled at every
inequality in the road.
Jack pressed Poynter's arm, and instantly both rose from the ground and
darted towards the vehicle. With a spring Jack landed upon the
driving-board, and, diving beneath the apron of the tent, crawled on to
the top of a pile of mealie bags. Suddenly his hand fell upon the face
of someone who was lying stretched fast asleep on top of the bags, and
set his heart thumping heavily with the shock. A second later he had
clapped his other hand over the sleeper's mouth, and called gently to
his comrade to help him. But long before Poynter had grasped the
awkward situation, Jack and the stranger were engaged in a desperate
struggle, the former with both hands clasped across the man's mouth, and
the Boer--for such he proved to be--endeavouring to clutch Jack by the
throat. A moment later Poynter had come to the rescue, and long before
the line of the enemy's fires was reached the sleepy burgher was bound
hand and foot with cords taken from the mealie bags, while Jack's
handkerchief was secured in his mouth. Then he was lifted to one side,
with Poynter in attendance, while Jack stretched himself full-length
upon the bags, and peeped out through the opening in the tent.
It seemed an age before the sentry was reached, but suddenly the same
foreign voice as before called out: "Who goes there?"
Jack waited a moment, and as the Kafir driver in charge of the team of
mules did not answer, he guessed that the Boer he had discovered asleep
upon the mealies was intended to give the pass-word.
"Convoy for Colenso!" he called out in a sleepy voice. "Give the
pass-word!" replied the sentry, lifting a lantern and flashing the light
upon the wagon.
"`Kruger'," Jack called out in a still more sleepy voice, and as if he
were just stifling a yawn.
"Pass, convoy; all's well!" the sentry exclaimed, and a minute later the
wagon rumbled by him, and the man in charge of the next was heard giving
the pass-word.
"Thank goodness that's over!" whispered Jack, slipping back to Poynter's
side. "Now, we have nothing more to do but to keep this fellow quiet
and wait."
"And what then!" asked Poynter, with a chuckle. "What are we going to
do?"
"You said you'd stick by me through thick and thin," Jack replied, "and
by Jove, I'm not only going to get through to Buller with General
White's despatches, but I'll take this wagon with me. Are you ready for
the job?"
"Ready?" asked Poynter, scarcely able to repress a shout of excitement.
"Try me and you'll see soon enough. It would be grand. We should
create quite a stir in the camp!"
"Then it's settled!" answered Jack shortly. "But get your gun ready in
case of accidents, and whatever you do, keep an eye on that fellow's
gag."
Poynter gave another chuckle expressive of intense enjoyment, and,
unslinging his rifle, sat down close to his captive, while Jack once
more crawled to the front of the wagon.
An hour later the convoy passed through Pieters, being challenged by the
Boer sentries, and coming to a halt close to the railway-station. But
no one came near them. The Kafir drivers left their teams standing,
and, taking buckets from beneath the axles of the wagons, went to a
stream and procured water, which they gave to their thirsty animals.
Jack kept his eye upon the tall Zulu in charge of the mules, and watched
him watering them. Then, as the man jumped on the driving-board, he
stretched himself full-length on the mealie bags and snored loudly as if
fast asleep. A moment later the Zulu put his head into the tent, and
pulling him by the coat asked him whether he should push on, in a
language composed of English, Dutch, and Zulu. Jack sat up and yawned
in the most natural manner, and growled out an unintelligible answer.
Then he pushed the man off the wagon, as if angry with him for waking
him, and lay down once more. And all the time the young staff-officer
sat beside his unwilling captive, with his hand over his mouth so as to
make sure that he could not give an alarm.
It was touch and go, but no doubt the Kaffir driver had experienced the
ill-temper of his Boer master before, and taking the gruff answer as an
order, he sent the lash of his sjambok over the heads of the mules, with
a crack as sharp as the report of a rifle, and started them along the
road to Colenso.
Three hours later there was another halt, and, peering out through the
back of the wagon, Jack noticed that all but the leading dozen wagons
had turned aside, and their teams were being outspanned upon the veldt.
Soon a horseman carrying a lantern rode up and gave a gruff order, and
once more the wagons were set in motion.
Just as the dawn was beginning to break they reached the road bridge
over the River Tugela, and having trundled across it, pushed on towards
Colenso.
"Now we shall have to look lively, Poynter," whispered Jack calmly.
"Which part of the job will you take? Will you drive the team, or act
as rearguard?"
"I fancy I had better do the driving," answered Poynter. "I never was
much of a hand with a rifle, while with the ribbons I fancy I take some
beating. Tell me what to do, and you can rely upon my carrying it out."
"Very well," replied Jack; "as soon as we are well in the Boer camp at
Colenso I will call the Kafir, and when he puts his head in the tent I
will ask him for his whip. The sight of my rifle will persuade him to
part with it, I have no doubt. Then I will tell him to clear off, and
at the same moment you will pick up the reins, which you will find
hooked up above, and will set the team going for all they are worth.
You can leave the rest to me."
"Right!" exclaimed Poynter jovially. "I'm to keep these mules going,
and if anyone or anything gets in the way I am to drive clean over or
through them, while you pick off any of the beggars who may be
following. Jack, I'll wager a pair of boots that we pull this business
off."
"Can't take you," answered Jack shortly. "We're going to get this wagon
through at all costs!"
By now the presence of a number of Boer horsemen galloping about, and a
collection of houses, showed that the outskirts of Colenso had been
reached, but the wagon still kept on. Then a large open space was
reached, evidently in the centre of the town, and a burgher was seen
galloping towards them, evidently with orders for them to halt alongside
the others already collected there.
"Now is our time," whispered Jack. Then he tapped on the woodwork and
gave a hoarse shout. Almost instantly they heard the Kafir driver jump
on the plank in front, and a second later he pulled the curtain of the
tent aside and thrust his head in. Poynter at once grasped his whip,
while Jack presented his rifle at his head.
For a moment the Zulu's eyes nearly started out of his head, and he was
speechless with astonishment. Then, with a yell of fear he started back
and tumbled off the wagon. Poynter at once stepped out, and, picking up
the reins, shook them in a manner that showed he was a practised hand,
and with a crack of his whip set the team trotting down the road.
Another crack above their heads and they were cantering, and at this
pace he kept them, knowing that he could still expect more of them, and
that, however fast he drove, he could never keep ahead of the Boer
horsemen.
Meanwhile Jack had thrown himself upon the mealie bags, and, lifting the
flap of the tent behind, peered out in readiness to act should they be
followed. At first little notice was taken of them, but the Kafir
driver had taken to his heels, shouting that his wagon was stolen, and
soon there were loud shouts, followed by the crack of rifles and the
whistling of bullets through the tent above his head.
"Sit as low as you can, Poynter!" Jack shouted, and his friend, who had
also heard the sound of the bullets, crouched down on the driving-board,
and, touching up his leaders with his whip, set the team of six mules
galloping towards the British camp at their fastest pace.
A second later Jack's rifle spoke out, and was followed by another
volley from the Boers, more than thirty of whom had now joined in the
chase, while others, hearing the shouts and firing, hurriedly threw
themselves into their saddles and came tearing after the lumbering
wagon, rising in their stirrups every now and again to discharge their
rifles at it.
From Colenso to Chieveley the road stretches across five miles of open
veldt, and long before Jack and his friend had driven across half of it
a large troop of Boers was pursuing them. But Jack's rifle was already
hard at work, and few of his shots went amiss; while in the distance two
sudden jets of smoke spurted up into the morning air, and a couple of
shrapnel shells hurtled over the roof of the flying wagon, and bursting
in their flight, scattered bullets amongst the horsemen. Once more the
smoke from the field-guns shot up, one of the missiles striking the tent
of the wagon and ripping it to pieces, while the other landed in the
middle of the pursuing Boers. Then a column of dust rose from the
far-off camp, and before Poynter could quite make out what was
happening, two squadrons of irregular horse came spurring towards them.
At the sight the Boers with one accord turned back, while Poynter pulled
in his panting steeds and walked them towards the British camp. Soon
they were surrounded by friends. There were hurried questions and
explanations, and as soon as it was known that two of the plucky
garrison of Ladysmith had escaped, actually bringing a prisoner with
them, cheer after cheer rent the air. Then a horseman was sent forward,
and when Jack and his friend drove calmly into General Buller's camp the
road on either side was lined by soldiers and blue-jackets all shouting
a welcome.
Some refreshment was provided, and afterwards Poynter hurried off to the
general's quarters, while Jack was offered a bed in an officer's tent,
and at once turned in, as he had been awake all night.
On the following morning they were the lions of the camp. Their names
were published in the orders for the day as having performed a service
of signal danger and great merit, and before the sun had risen an hour
they were besieged by an army of correspondents, all eager to hear news
of Ladysmith and the narrative of their own escape.
Jack and Poynter held quite an informal reception, for officers flocked
to have a chat with them, and for the greater part of the day their
attentions were busily engaged in answering the hundreds of questions
put to them. As for Jack, just when he believed that he had secured
peace at last, and could enjoy the luxury of an hour's quiet before
dinner, he was suddenly attacked by a world-famous war-correspondent,
who had waited till all his friends were satisfied and till he could get
the adventurous despatch-rider to himself. Seated in front of our hero,
pen and note-book in hand, this genial man, who had seen perhaps far
more of war than the oldest veteran in our forces, skilfully extracted
all his news, and by dint of careful questioning even managed to get
from the bashful and retiring Jack an account of his early escapade in
front of Kimberley.
"Ah, when I was a youngster like you," he exclaimed, with some
animation, "that despatch-riding was just the kind of work that would
have suited me! Mind you, Mr Somerton, I don't forget for one moment
that it is really most risky work and requires a deal of pluck, but that
is just where the fascination of it all comes in. I suppose, now that
you have done so well, you will be given a commission, and that should
suit your tastes, being, as you are, the son of an old officer!"
"Yes, I hope some day to have a commission in the service," Jack
answered thoughtfully, "but I fancy I should prefer it after the war is
over. You see, if I were made a subaltern now I should no doubt see
lots of fighting, but I should be tied and hampered to a great extent.
I cannot forget that I left friends in Kimberley whom I promised to call
upon again, and now that I am safely out of Ladysmith, with nothing in
particular to do, I feel all the more inclined to turn my face that
way."
"Ha, ha, ha! Excuse me," laughed the genial correspondent. "Of course
I had not forgotten that you have friends on the Western border, and no
doubt you are anxious to meet one of them at least again. Don't mind my
chaff, Somerton. It's the sign of true friendship when one's friends
remember one. As to your leaving for Kimberley, I certainly advise you
to do so, for you are not likely to see much fun hero; and besides,
anyone not belonging to the regulars or volunteers is to be rigorously
excluded from General Buller's camp. Ladysmith is a precious tough nut
to crack, and to be honest and perfectly candid, I do not believe we
shall break our way through the Boers till we have distracted their
attention to other quarters, and caused them to weaken their forces
here. We are playing a big game, and while we keep Joubert and the Boer
army before us by feints and attacks in deadly earnest, we are anxiously
awaiting reinforcements to drive them out of Cape Colony, and if
possible invade their own territory."
"In that case," answered Jack, "I shall leave as early as possible and
join the troops under Lord Methuen; they are twelve miles south of
Kimberley, and barred from reaching the town by General Cronje and the
impregnable heights of Magersfontein and Spytfontein. Perhaps a
despatch-carrier will be wanted, for Mafeking if not for Kimberley, and
I shall offer my services."
A few minutes later, after thanking Jack, the war-correspondent retired
to his own tent to write up his despatches, and send them across the
telegraph cables to the head offices of the London newspaper for which
he worked.
Jack joined the officers of one of the regiments at dinner, and
afterwards retired to rest. On the following morning, on mentioning to
one of the staff of the general that he was about to set out for
Kimberley, a letter was given him describing him and his services, and
recommending that he be employed as a despatch-carrier.
Armed with this, Jack took a hearty farewell of young Poynter, and,
climbing on board a coal truck which had come along the line to the
front filled with ammunition, he was whirled south to Pietermaritzburg.
Here he found that all was bustle. Loyal to the heart, the inhabitants
of this old town had for many long weeks been energetically aiding the
Government authorities. Relief committees had been instituted to manage
the funds sent out from the English public, and had already done
enormous good in lessening the sufferings of the poor people who had
fled at the commencement of the war from Johannesburg and other parts of
the two republics, bringing with them only what wealth they could carry.
Hospitals had been arranged in various public buildings, and in these,
ladies--high-born, rich, and poor--worked with a will. At the front
their services were not wanted, for the war was a stern and sanguinary
one in which only men could take a part; but here, out of sound of the
cannon's roar, they were doing a noble work, and while they ministered
to the poor suffering soldiers, at the same time they eased their own
aching hearts, and distracted in some measure their own troubled
thoughts, for scarcely one of them but had some dear one, husband or
brother, cooped up in the beleaguered camp of Ladysmith and exposed to
the fire of the Boer guns.
Amongst them Jack found Mrs Hunter, and one can imagine with what joy
and tears she greeted him, and how eagerly she listened to the messages
sent her by her husband. In a twinkling the news that someone had
arrived who had recently escaped from Ladysmith spread through the town,
and nurses flocked from every hospital to interview him.
Poor Jack! Naturally a bashful lad, especially where ladies were
concerned, it proved a most trying ordeal for him, and far more so than
his interview with the correspondent. But at last he satisfied them
all, having in the large majority of cases only good news to give. Then
he said good-bye to Mrs Hunter, promised to convey all her messages to
Wilfred, and once more boarding the train, set out for Durban.
Here he was fortunate enough to find a transport sailing for Cape Town,
and that night was again at sea.