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
"Yes it is, my lad. Then he's been sneaking about in the dark, going
about among the men like a sarpent, and then among the horses, helping
himself to the reins with his knife."
"To join together and make a rope to let himself down from the wall," I
said.
"That's right, my lad--right as right; and all our chaps asleep, I
suppose--bless 'em! They ought to be ashamed of theirselves. There was
quite a dozen nice noo reins missing, and half of 'em gone for ever."
"Not quite, Sergeant," said Denham; "take your light and look carefully
down yonder."
The Sergeant stared, but did as he was told, holding the lantern low
down by the crossing-stone.
"Well, I am blessed!" he cried. "Here, one of you, come and loosen this
knot and coil the ropes up carefully.--But, I say, Mr Denham, how did
they come there?"
Denham told him briefly of our adventure, and of what we surmised.
He whistled softly, and then said, "Why, I wonder you're both alive.
You do both look half-dead, gentlemen; and no wonder. This accounts for
one lot, though. The others were tied together and one end made fast to
a big stone--a loose one atop of the wall. He must have slid down there
and got away. I never saw such sentries as we've got. All those
cartridges fired away, and not one to hit. Why, they ought to have
pumped him so full of lead that he couldn't run. Run? No; so that he
couldn't walk. But you two must come to the Colonel and let him know."
"No, no! Take us to Dr Duncombe," said Denham.
"Afterwards, sir."
"Then you must carry me," said Denham, with a groan.
"Right, sir.--Here, two of you, sling your rifles and dandy-chair your
officer to the Colonel's quarters. Two more of you serve young Moray
same way."
"No," I said, making an effort. "One man give me his arm, and I'll try
to walk."
"So will I," said Denham, making an effort. "That's right, Val; we
won't go into hospital, only let the doctor stick a bit or two of
plaster about our heads for ornament. Now then, give me an arm."
The result was that we mastered our suffering, and were led by the
Sergeant's patrol to the officers' rough quarters. The first thing the
Colonel did was to summon the doctor, who saw to our injuries, while
Denham unburdened himself of our adventures, my head throbbing so that I
could not have given a connected narrative had I tried.
Denham protested stoutly afterwards that there was no need for the
doctor's proposal that we should be sent to the hospital to be carried
into effect, and appealed to the Colonel.
"Look at us both, sir," he said. "Don't you think that after a good
night's sleep we shall both be fit for duty in the morning?"
"Well, Mr Denham, to speak candidly," was the reply, "you both look as
dilapidated as you can possibly be; so you had better obey the doctor's
orders. I give you both up for the present."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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