The Kopje Garrison: A Story of the Boer WarFenn, George Manville
General
The Kopje Garrison: A Story of the Boer War
Fenn, George Manville
South African War, 1899-1902 -- Fiction
"Ah, that's another thing, my dear boy. When the poor fellows are shut
up in a horribly crowded, unhealthy camp, and are forced to drink water
that is nothing less than poisonous, they go down fast. So they would
anywhere. But see how we've got on here--the camp kept clean, and an
abundant supply of delicious water bubbling out of that kopje. Then--
Bless my heart! I forbade talking, and here I am giving you fellows a
lecture on hygiene.--Come along with me, Dickenson.--You, Lennox, go to
sleep if you can. No more talking to-day."
The doctor literally drove Dickenson before him, and hooked him by the
arm as soon as they were outside.
"I'm very glad we settled for that idea of mine to be private,
Dickenson, my dear boy. But it did look horribly like it."
"Perhaps," said the young man. "But you give it up now?"
"Certainly," said the doctor.
"And you give up the idea too about his running away?"
"Of course."
"Then the sooner you give Roby something that will bring him to his
senses the better."
"I wish I could; but the poor fellow seems to have got it stamped into
his brain."
"Yes; and the worst of it is he doesn't talk like a man touched in the
head."
"No, he does not; though he is, without doubt."
"Can't you talk quietly to the chief? There's he and the major and
Edwards take it all as a matter of course. They don't give poor old
Drew the credit for all that he has done since we were here, but believe
all the evil. It's abominable."
"_Esprit de corps_, Dickenson, my lad."
"Yes, that's all right enough; but they turn silent and cold as soon as
the poor fellow's name is mentioned; while that isn't the worst of it."
"What is, then?" said the doctor.
"The men sing the tune their officers have pitched, and that miserable
sneak, Corporal May, sings chorus. Oh! it's bad, sir; bad. Fancy:
there was the poor fellow knocked over when trying to save his captain's
life, and the man he helped to save turns upon him like this."
"Yes, it is bad," said the doctor; "but, like many more bad things, it
dies out."
"What! the credit of being a coward, doctor? No; it grows. _Ur-r-r_!"
growled the speaker. "I should like to ram all that Corporal May has
said down his throat. He'd find it nastier physic than any you ever
gave him, doctor. I say, I'm not a vindictive fellow, but when I keep
hearing these things about a man I like, it makes me boil. Do you think
there's any chance of the corporal getting worse?"
"No," said the doctor sternly; "he hasn't much the matter with him, only
a few bruises. But if he did die it would be worse still for poor
Lennox."
"No! How?"
"Because he'd leave the poison behind him. There, I'll do all I can
with the colonel; but all the officers believe Roby, and that Lennox was
seized with a fit of panic. There's only one way for him to clear it
away."
"Exchange? How can he?"
"Exchange? Nonsense! Get strong, return to his company, and show every
one that he is not the coward they think."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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