The Curse of Carne's Hold: A Tale of AdventureHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
The Curse of Carne's Hold: A Tale of Adventure
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
South Africa -- History -- Frontier Wars, 1811-1878 -- Juvenile fiction
"In an hour Kreta will go see," the chief said; "but better give two
hours for all to be fast asleep."
In about an hour Ronald, who had been half lying on the ground with his
head on his hands, looked round and found that the chief had stolen
away. He sat up and watched the hut intently. The fires were burning low
now, although many of the Kaffirs were sitting round them; but there was
still light enough for him, looking intently, to see a figure moving
along. Once or twice he fancied he saw a dark shadow on the ground close
to the hut, but he was not sure, and was still gazing intently when
there was a touch on his shoulder, and, looking round, he saw the chief
beside him.
"Two women watch," he said, "others all quiet. Give a little time
longer, to make sure that all are asleep, then we go on."
It seemed to Ronald fully two hours, although it was less than one,
before Kreta again touched him.
"Time to go, incos," he said. "You go down with me to the hut, but not
quite close. Kreta bring girl to you. You better not go. Kreta walk more
quietly than white man. Noise spoil everything, get all of us killed."
Ronald gave his consent, though reluctantly, but he felt it was right
that the Fingo, who was risking his life for his sake, should carry out
his plans in his own way. Kreta ordered one of his men to rejoin his
companions, and with the other advanced towards the village.
When within forty yards of the hut, he touched Ronald and whispered to
him to remain there. Then he and his companion lay down on the ground,
and, without the slightest sound that Ronald could detect, disappeared
in the darkness, while Ronald stood with his revolver in his hand,
ready at any moment to spring forward and throw himself upon the
Kaffirs.
Mary Armstrong lay awake, with every faculty upon the stretch. Where the
succour was to come from, or how, she could not imagine; but it was
evident, at least, that some white man was here, and was working for
her. She listened intently to every sound, with her eyes wide open,
staring at the two women, who were cooking mealies in the fire, and
keeping up a low, murmured talk. She had not even a hope that they would
sleep. She knew that the natives constantly sit up talking and feasting
until daylight is close at hand; and as they had extra motives for
vigilance, she was sure that they would keep awake.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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