Charge! A Story of Briton and BoerFenn, George Manville
General
Charge! A Story of Briton and Boer
Fenn, George Manville
South African War, 1899-1902 -- Fiction
Unexpectedly, though, I heard a cry from somewhere behind, then a heavy
fall, and another, as a couple of horses went down, and caused some
confusion; but to stop to help the unfortunates was impossible at such a
time. It was the fortune of war, as we all knew; and we tore on, till a
note from the trumpet rose from our left; then another, and the fierce
gallop was changed to a trot, and evolution after evolution was executed
to bring the retiring regiment into formation of troops. Soon after
this was completed a fresh call brought us to a walk, and directly after
to a halt to breathe the panting horses.
"Dismount, my lads," cried the Colonel. This order was to enable the
brave beasts to have the full advantage of our halt.
"Hurt?" was asked excitedly on all sides; but every answer was in the
negative, and we stood there by our troopers and chargers in the
darkness, listening to the wild excitement from the distance.
The firing was still going on, but in a confused, desultory way; and for
the moment it seemed as if we had made good our escape, and had nothing
to do but mount and ride quietly away. That was how it struck me, and I
said so to Denham.
"Oh no," he said anxiously. "Didn't you see?"
"See what?" I asked.
"Why, we were riding straight on into another body of the enemy after we
had cut through the first."
"No," I said. "Who could see through this darkness?"
"Well, I didn't at first; but when the Colonel dashed up with the
trumpeter and turned us off to the left, I looked out for the reason,
and there it was: a long line of the brutes, blazing away in our
direction. You must have heard the bullets."
"Yes, I heard them," I said, "but I thought they came from behind."
"Some of them did, my lad, and I'm afraid we've left a good many poor
fellows behind. But them, it can't be helped. The thing now to be
settled is which way we are to go next. Listen; the officers are nearly
all with the chief now, and the whole plain seems to be dotted with the
enemy."
Denham had hardly done speaking when a movement a short distance from us
resulted in the officers joining their troops and squadrons. Then the
order to mount was passed softly from troop to troop, and we waited for
the little force to be put in motion again.
"It's of no use for the chief to try the same ruse again," whispered
Denham. "It was right enough as a surprise; but the enemy is on the
alert now. It seems to me we are as completely surrounded as before."
"Never mind," I said, as cheerily as I could; "we shall do it yet."
"Oh yes, we shall do it yet," replied my companion; "but it must be done
quietly and quickly, while it's dark. I say, though, what about your
black boy? He couldn't have kept up with our mad gallop."
"Joeboy?" I said in an excited whisper. "Joeboy? I forgot all about
him;" and a pang of misery shot through me.
"He was holding on by your saddle--wasn't he?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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