Suddenly a tremendous volley crashed forth from the hillside on their
left front, followed immediately by another on the right. For a moment
the men looked at each other in silence, and the expression of gloomy
determination hitherto depicted on their countenances gave way to one of
animated and half-incredulous relief.
For no sound of hostile volley was that. No. Help was at hand.
Already they could see the Kafirs gliding from bush to bush in groups,
hastening to make good their retreat, thoroughly disconcerted by this
new and disastrous surprise.
"Whoop!--Hooray! Yoicks forward!" shouted the beleaguered combatants,
each man giving his particular form of cheer, varying from savage
war-cry to view halloo. They were wild with excitement, not only by
reason of their unlooked for deliverance from almost certain massacre,
but also on account of being in a position to turn the tables upon their
skulking foe.
Then came the crack--crack--crack--of the rifles of the new arrivals,
who advanced rapidly, yet not entirely without caution, through the
bush, picking off the retreating Kafirs as these showed themselves in
fleeing from cover to cover. And above the crackle of the dropping
shots rang out the wild notes of a bugle, villainously played. A roar
of laughter went up from our friends.
"Brathwaite's Horse for a fiver!" cried Hoste. "That's Jack Armitage's
post-horn. I know its infamous old bray--And--there's Brathwaite
himself."
"Any of you fellows hurt?" sung out the latter, a fine, stalwart
frontiersman, who, with several of his men, rode down upon the group.
The remainder were spread out in skirmishing line on either side, the
irregular rattle of their fire showing that they were still busy
peppering the enemy in sight.
"One man killed," answered Shelton. "It's Parr, poor chap."
"So? Well, fall in with us and come on. We haven't done with Jack
Kafir yet."
"Can't. We're all but cleaned out of ammunition."
"So?" said Brathwaite again. "We've turned up none too soon then.
Fortunately we've got plenty."
A hurried levy was made upon the cartridge belts of the new arrivals,
and thus reinforced in every sense of the word, the Kaffrarian men, keen
to avenge their comrade and retrieve their position, fell in with their
rescuers, and the whole force moved rapidly forward in pursuit of the
enemy.
But the latter had hastened to make himself scarce. With characteristic
celerity, the wily savages seemed to have melted into earth or air. If
thirty-five whites--a mere handful--had given them about as much
fighting as they could stomach, they were not going to stand against
that handful multiplied by three.
"There they go!" suddenly shouted someone, pointing to the almost bare
brow of a hill about half a mile away, over which a number of Kafirs
were swarming in full retreat. A tremendous fusillade was opened upon
this point, but with slight effect. The distance was too great.
"We must get the cattle," cried Brathwaite, Shelton having hurriedly
given him the particulars. "And we must race for them, too, for they'll
have got a good start. They are sure to take them right away to that
big bit of forest which runs down to the coast. Once there they are
safe as far as we are concerned. I know this strip of country."
Armitage, the man who owned the bugle, and who was known to most there
present either personally or by name, as a licenced wag and an
incorrigible practical joker, was instructed to blow a call of assembly.
This he did, in hideous and discordant fashion, and the men collected.
Briefly Brathwaite explained the situation.
"Beyond this first rise there's another," he said. "Beyond, that
there's five miles of open _veldt_; then the strip of forest I was
mentioning. If we don't get the cattle in the open we shan't get them
at all. Forward!"
No second command was needed. The whole force pressed eagerly forward.
At length, after a toilsome ride, during which not an enemy was seen,
except here and there the body of a dead one lying in a pool of blood,
they crested the brow of the second ridge. A great shout arose.
"There they are! Now then, boys--cut 'em out!"
Away in front, about five miles distant, lay a long, dark line of
forest. Half-way between this and themselves an immense herd of cattle
was streaming across the _veldt_. The drivers, about two score in
number, were at first seen to redouble their efforts to urge on the
animals. Then, at sight of the white horsemen bearing down upon them
with a wild cheer, they incontinently abandoned their charge and fled
for dear life.
"Never mind the niggers," sang out Brathwaite, as one or two of his men
tried to rein in for a snap shot at the flying Kafirs. "Never mind
them. Head the cattle round for all you know. If once they get into
the bush we may lose any number of them." And spurring into a gallop he
circled round before the excited herd, followed by his whole troop. The
foremost beasts stopped short, throwing up their heads with many a snort
and bellow of bewilderment and terror, while the bulk of the herd
pressed on. For some minutes the clashing of horns and frenzied
bellowing, the clouds of dust, and the excited shouts of the horsemen
made up an indescribable scene of din and confusion. Many of the
animals, rolled on the ground by the plunging, swaying mass, were
trampled or gored to death by their bewildered companions. At last the
tumultuous excitement began to subside, and the animals, with heaving
flanks and rolling eyes, stood huddled together as if awaiting the
pleasure of their new drivers.
"Steady! Don't rush them," shouted Brathwaite. "Head them away quietly
for the open for all you know, and don't let them break through."
More than one comical scene was enacted as the line of horsemen,
extended so as to gradually work the herd away from the bush, drove
their charge forward. Now and then a cow, with a calf at her side, or
haply missing her progeny, would turn and furiously charge the line of
horsemen, causing an abrupt scatter, and in one or two instances the
utter and ignominious flight of the doughty warrior singled out, who
perchance was only too thankful to lay her out with a revolver shot in
the nick of time to save himself and his steed, or both, from being
ripped up or impaled by those vicious horns. But the best fun of all
was afforded by a huge old black-and-white bull.
Jack Armitage, we have said, was bursting with animal spirits;
consequently when the aforesaid quadruped took it into his massive
cranium to suddenly break away from the herd and start off on his own
account at right angles thereto, it followed, as a matter of course,
that Armitage, being nearest to him, should spur away in pursuit. The
bull's vicious little eyes began to roll wickedly, and from a trot he
broke into a wild gallop. Then madcap Jack, madder than ever with the
excitement of the day's events, was seen to range his horse alongside,
and bending over in the saddle and placing his bugle almost against the
animal's ear he blew a hideous and terrific blast. There was a
ferocious bellow--down went the brute's head, and, lo, in a twinkling
horse and man were rolling on the ground, and the bull galloped away
unimpeded.
Roars of laughter arose from the discomfited one's comrades, which did
not decrease as they watched the savage brute in the distance charging
one of the retreating Kafirs, who seemed almost as much disconcerted by
this new enemy as he had been by the missiles of his human foes.
Finally both disappeared within the bush.
"Hurt, old man?" cried Hoste, riding up as the fallen one found his feet
again, and stood rubbing his shoulder and looking rather dazed with the
shock. The horse had already struggled up. Fortunately for it, the
bull's horns were short and blunt, and it seemed none the worse for the
tumble.
"No. Had a devil of a shake-up, though. A bottle of doctor's stuff's a
fool to it."
"Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast--sings the poet. In this
case it hadn't," said Eustace. "Those ancients must have been awful
liars. Eh, Armitage?"
"You bet. Hallo! Where's my old post-horn?" he went on, looking round
for his instrument, which he discovered about a dozen yards off,
unharmed, save for a slight dent. Putting it to his lips he blew a
frightful fanfare.
"I say, Jack, you'll have the old bull back again," said Brathwaite.
"Better shut up. He's dead nuts on that old trumpet of yours. And now,
the farther we get into the open, the better. We mustn't camp anywhere
that'll give Johnny Kafir a chance of cutting out the cattle again."
"We've done a good day's work, anyhow," said Shelton. "This isn't half
a bad haul--and it's fairly decent stock for Kafir stock."
"Kafir stock be damned!" growled Carhayes. "Whatever is decent among it
is stolen stock, you bet. Not much sleep for any of us to-night, boys.
We shall mostly all have to keep our eyes skinned, if we are to take in
this lot safe. Whoever of us are not on horse guard will be on cattle
guard."
They were joined by the few men who had remained behind to guard the
corpse of their slain comrade. This was conveyed in a sort of litter,
improvised of blankets and slung between two quiet horses; and now to
the dash and excitement of the conflict and pursuit, there succeeded a
subdued quiet, almost a gloom, by reason of the presence of the dead man
in their midst. Still--it was the fortune of war.