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
Then, with a suddenness that startled my composure, I heard an impatient
stamp close by on my left, followed by the sound of reins jerked, and an
angry adjuration growled out in Dutch between the teeth by a mounted
sentry. He was invisible; and, taking advantage of the startled
movements of the horse consequent upon the punishment it had received,
Denham dragged heavily upon my right hand with his left, when, as I
yielded, he bore off to his right, walking very slowly, till we had left
the sentry some distance behind.
Directly after that incident Denham seemed to alter our course again,
and once more we were walking straight for the dim lantern. This went
on for a short time, and then we had another check, for the sound of
tramping feet arose to our right--not the regular beat, beat of
well-drilled military, but a rough, heavy, anyhow walk of about a dozen
men. They were very near, and the chances were that, whether we stood
still, went back, or hurried forward, they might come right upon us.
But my companion did not hesitate. He chose to advance, hurrying me
forward half-a-dozen steps, and then lay down upon his face. For a few
moments I thought we were discovered, and that our attempt was a
failure; but the men just missed us, going on twenty or thirty yards,
and then a gruff Boer called "Halt!"
From what followed we knew that guard was being changed.
Everything was still succeeding, for, instead of walking right upon a
dismounted sentry, we had passed him to our left, and learned not only
where the new one was placed, but that we had succeeded in passing the
outer line of mounted men and an inner one of foot.
As if telling me of the delight he felt, Denham's pressure on my hand
was like the working of some military code; and I responded the best way
I could, as we lay listening to the resumed tramp of the guard.
Just as Denham signalled me to rise, there was a sharp crack, a flash of
light, and we dropped down again, to look in the direction of the flash,
and saw a pair of big hands lighted up as they were held lantern
fashion; and, directly after we had glimpses of the lower part of a
bearded face, at first seen distinctly, then it grew darker, and again
seen plainer as its owner puffed at the big pipe he was lighting. Then
all was in darkness once more, and the pungent smoke of coarse tobacco
floated to our nostrils.
We started again, crawling on all-fours side by side, and pressing close
like sheep so as to keep in touch; but always forward now towards the
lantern, which seemed suddenly to be very near.
Denham's lips were close to my ear directly, and he whispered, "We must
keep more away from the light. Now you take the lead, crawling very
slowly. I shall keep up by touching your heel regularly. If I leave
off, stop till I begin again."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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