The Kopje Garrison: A Story of the Boer War
“To be sure you are,” said Dickenson.
“How do you know?”
“By my lord the prisoner’s phiz here. He gave quite a twitch when you tapped that last rock but one.”
“Ha!” cried Lennox; “then there is a way in here. I thought it sounded hollow.”
He stepped back and began to tap the rough stone again to prove his words, every one now noticing that the rock gave out a dull, hollow tone; while, unable to contain himself, the prisoner, as he lay tightly bound upon his back, uttered a low, hissing sound as he drew in a deep breath.
“Here we are,” cried Lennox, more excited than ever. “Sergeant, give some one else that lantern; take a man with you up there by the gun, and bring back a crowbar or two, and one of the engineers’ picks.”
The men went off at once, and while the party awaited their return Lennox went on examining the rough block of granite by which he stood, but looked in vain for any sign of hinge or fastening.
“I hope you are right, Lennox,” said Captain Edwards, who had stepped to his side; and he spoke in a low voice.
“So do I,” was the reply; “but I feel sure that there is, for there must be a hiding-place somewhere. Wait a bit, and we shall capture the prisoner’s mate.”
Lennox involuntarily glanced down at where the carefully bound Boer lay with the light shining full upon his eyes, and he could not repress a start as he saw the malignant flash that seemed to dart from them into his own. It affected him so that he ceased his examination for the moment, waiting impatiently till the distant sound of steps announced the return of the sergeant and the man bearing the implements he had sought.
“Got the crowbar?” cried Lennox eagerly.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then bring it here. Thrust it in under the stone at this natural crevice.”
“Why?” said Captain Roby sharply. – “Here, sergeant, try higher up.”
But before the words were fully uttered the sergeant had driven the chisel-edge of the iron bar into the horizontal crevice about on a level with his knees, with the result that the men cheered so loudly that they drowned the angry curse which escaped the Boer’s lips. For, to the surprise of all, no sooner had the sergeant pressed down the wedged-in bar than it acted as a lever would, lifting one corner of the stone so that it slipped away, the great block turning easily upon a central pivot, and leaving an opening some four feet high and just wide enough for a man to pass through.
“The light, sergeant. – Bayonets, my lads!” shouted Lennox, springing forward; but his cry was mingled with one from the prisoner, who yelled out:
“Fire, Dirck; fire! Never mind yourself; blow them all into the air.”
It was an order which was full of suggestion, coming as it did so soon after the cowardly attempt to kill the colonel and his chief officers; but not a man shrank from the task before him, nor hesitated to take the risk, whatever it might be. Lennox was in first, closely followed by the sergeant, lantern in his left hand, iron bar in his right, ready to strike down the first man who resisted, while the light was directed here and there in eager search for bag or barrel that might contain the elements of destruction.
The lantern lit up one of the typical caverns of the country, so many of which have been utilised for strongholds by the Matabele, Mashona, and other chiefs, and Lennox found himself in a rift of the stone which ran right up overhead, a vast crack which the light of the lantern was too feeble to pierce, while away to the right ran a low-roofed passage, striking off almost at right angles, but only to zigzag farther on and die away in the darkness.
“Bayonets, lads!” cried Lennox again; “the other man must be down here.”
“Look out!” cried Captain Roby, who was close behind. “Mind that open lantern there. Hi, sergeant! is there any sign of powder or dynamite?”
“No, sir,” cried the non-com sharply, as he held the lantern as high as he could and made its light play in every direction. “All a bam to scare us, sir. No, no!” he yelled. “Keep back, every one. Up here, sir, in this hole. There’s a bag that looks like those we found. Take the lantern, Mr Lennox, sir.”
“No,” cried the young officer; “keep it, and light me. The other fellow can’t get away; we’ll have him afterwards. Here we are,” he continued, reaching up to a niche and drawing out a powder-bag. “Will you have it passed out, Mr Roby?”
“Yes: take hold, one of you. – Captain Edwards.”
“Here you are.”
“See that the powder-bag is put well out of the prisoner’s reach. He is fast bound, but he might try to play us some trick.”
“Yes, all right,” said the captain; and then to the two men left on guard by the prisoner, “Keep a sharp eye on this man; don’t let him stir.”
“No, sir,” was the reply; and then the order was given for the powder to be guarded.
As the captain returned it was to meet a man bearing out another bag, and he entered the cavern in time to see Lennox draw out another, and again another, till eight had been dragged out of the place into which they had been packed and carried out into the open air.
“Why, Lennox, man,” he said laughingly, “you handle those bags as if they were tea. Aren’t you afraid that some of them will explode?”
“Not he,” said Dickenson, who was looking on and holding up the second lantern. “No danger. I’m here. I’ve been watching so that he shouldn’t light a cigarette.”
There was a titter from the men near, and Captain Roby cried impatiently, “Why, there’s enough to have blown the top off the kopje and destroyed the big gun.”
“Thoroughly, I should say, wedged-in there as it was,” said Dickenson. “How much more is there, Lennox?”
“That’s all,” was the reply. “No, no. There’s a great rift here to the right, full too.”
“Hand it out, then, quickly,” said Captain Roby. “Be careful there with your rifles; if a man lets his off by accident we shall all be blown to atoms.”
“They’ll take care,” said Captain Edwards; “eh, my lads?”
“Rather, sir!” said the sergeant grimly; and all worked hard and carefully avoided the lanterns, till Lennox announced that the second rift had given out its last bag.
“Yes, that’s all,” he said; “but I want to know how they got it up here.”
“They managed to get it up in the dark,” said Captain Roby. “There, you may open a lantern now. Is there any sign of a train, Lennox?”
“Not the ghost of one. But I expect our friend meant to blow up the gun and do as much damage as he could besides. We were none too soon. Now what about the other? he must be in here somewhere. Shall I lead on, sir?”
“Yes,” said Captain Roby sharply. “Take the sergeant with one lantern and ten men. I’ll follow with the other lantern and ten more. You, Captain Edwards, keep a guard over the powder and the prisoner. Of course your men will be ready to receive any one trying to escape after avoiding our search.”
“Right,” was the answer; and sword in one hand, revolver in the other, Lennox and Dickenson began their advance into the maze-like cavern, closely followed by the sergeant holding the lantern well on high so that its rays kept on flashing from the men’s bayonets.
“Keep your eyes well skinned, Drew, old chap,” whispered Dickenson, “and never mind your revolver. You’re sure to miss in a place like this. – You behind, lads. The bayonet, mind, whenever our friend here makes a rush; he must be stopped.”
There was a low murmur of assent from the men, and then, with eyes and bayonets gleaming strangely in the dancing light, the party moved steadily on into the weird darkness of the cave.
Chapter Fifteen.
The Plot that Failed
The searchers’ way was now a narrow crack such as might have been formed by some mighty convulsion of nature which tore apart a gigantic mass of stone, the fracture running here and there where veins of some softer material had yielded, to be separated sometimes only two or three feet, and at others opening out to form rugged chambers as much as twenty feet in extent, whose roofs ran up so high, that the dim light from the lanterns failed to reach them. Here and there were niches and crevices which were carefully searched in the expectation of their proving to be hiding-places; but the men, who forced their way in without hesitation, failed to obtain any result.
Upon reaching one which seemed to be the deepest, Dickenson, who was first to notice it, paused to shout, “Now, Dirck, old chap, come out and surrender before we fire.”
“No, no,” cried Lennox; “how do we know but what there may be quite a store of powder farther in?”
“But it looks such an awkward place,” said Dickenson. “A fellow with a bayonet might keep a regiment at bay.”
“Yes,” said Lennox coolly; “it looks awkward, but come on.”
As he spoke he pushed by, sword in hand, and began to explore the suspicious-looking rift.
“Oh, come; play fair,” cried Dickenson. “I was first.”
“Come along,” said Lennox, with his voice sounding smothered.
“Oh, very well,” grumbled Dickenson. “Bring the lantern, sergeant. We may as well see ourselves skewered.”
He plunged in hastily, closely followed by the lantern-bearer, and as it seemed to be an extremely likely hiding-place, the rest of the party were halted ready to give assistance. But at the end of a minute the lantern had shown that it was a blind lead, and the explorers hurried back, and the advance was continued through narrow crack and rough opening, till the lights threw up the blank stone where the rift suddenly contracted.
“Why, here’s the end of the cave!” cried Captain Roby. “We must have passed him somewhere.”
“Then he is hiding somewhere high up on a shelf by the roof.”
“No, no; look here,” cried Lennox, stepping in advance. “Lantern – quick!”
Sergeant James stepped forward to where the young lieutenant was standing by a rough opening in the floor of the cavern, and upon the light being directed downward, to the surprise of all, the rugged branch of a small tree could be seen lowered down into a sloping position, with its boughs cut short off to form rough steps, their regularity suggesting that they were near akin in their growth to those of a fir, and affording good foot and hand hold to any one wishing to descend.
“We’re on his track, sure enough,” said Lennox, letting his blade hang from his wrist by the sword-knot, and beginning to descend quickly, the sergeant with the light closely following.
The next minute the leaders of the party were in a wide and spacious chamber, fairly level as to its floor, with the sides running into rugged niches and holes, all of which were well searched, without avail, a couple of men being left, sentry-like, at one which ran down like a sloping passage into some lower place.
Along this, as soon as the big chamber had proved to be empty, Lennox hurried. The descent was very steep and rugged, and necessitated his lowering himself down by his hands in two or three places, till a lower story, so to speak, was reached, in the shape of a vast chamber of the most irregular form, the whole party assembling about the entrance, where the lights were held-up, to show dimly what seemed to be huge, rounded lumps placed here and there upon heaps of broken stones or blocks which had fallen from the roof some ten or a dozen feet overhead, while at one end the top of the cave sloped down to join the rising floor.
“This seems to be the bottom of the cave,” said Captain Roby. “Now, sharp, my lads. Keep that way out safe.”
“Which?” said Dickenson. “Here’s another hole in the floor. Lantern here. Yes, there’s another private staircase with a flight of steps ready. This ought to be the well. Yes; come and listen. You can hear water rushing.”
Sure enough, as they bent over the gloomy, mysterious-looking hole, up which a cool, moist breath of air arose, they could hear the gurgling rush of hurrying water, while the light held down showed the rugged bark of another tree ready for descent.
“Will you go down, Lennox?” said the captain.
“Oh yes, I’ll go down,” was the reply.
“Well, undress,” said Dickenson banteringly. “It means a swim. Don’t spoil your neat uniform.”
“Will you go?” asked Lennox sharply.
“Oh yes, I’ll go,” said Dickenson.
“Thank you,” replied Lennox through his set teeth. – “Here, sergeant, give me the lantern.”
Catching it from the man, he planted his foot upon the first branch stump a foot below the edge of the yawning hole; but the moment he touched it a violent jerk was given to the tree-trunk, just as if it had been seized by some one below and wrenched round.
Lennox’s position was so insecure, with one hand holding the lantern, that he was thrown off his balance, and he would have fallen headlong down but for the snatch he made at the sergeant, who also caught at him, slipped, and the two were nearly precipitated down the horrible place at the bottom of which the water was rushing with a hollow, echoing, whispering sound.
The tree saved them, the sergeant getting a firm hold; but between them the light of the lantern was shut off, hidden between the two men for the moment, and an attempt was made by Dickenson to reach and drag it up.
“I’ve got it,” he cried. “Let it come. No, I haven’t; mind.”
For it had slipped through his fingers, and it went clattering down the rough, well-like place, striking against one of the projecting stumps of the tree-trunk, which turned it right over and threw it with an echoing crash against the wall, lit it up for a moment, and then the flame within was extinguished.
“Yah!” roared Captain Roby as the place was plunged into absolute darkness. “Here, bring up the other lantern.”
There was silence, broken by panting and scuffling as of two men engaged in a struggle.
Then Sergeant James said hoarsely, “All right, sir?”
“Yes,” panted Lennox, “but I thought I was gone.”
“Who has got that other lantern?” asked the captain.
“It went out, sir,” came in a husky tone from its bearer.
“Bah!” exclaimed Captain Roby. “Here, two of you make your way back to the top; be smart, and bring two more lanterns.”
There was a low, hissing sound as of men all drawing in a deep breath at the same time, and before the captain could repeat his command a peculiar sound came up the hole.
“Look out!” cried Lennox. “Bayonets here! Some one is coming up.”
Sergeant James sank upon his knees in the darkness, felt about for the edge of the hole, and then leaning over, seized hold of the tree-trunk, and whispered, “Some one’s trying to drag it down, sir.” Then in a stentorian voice: “Ahoy there! Fire straight down, my lads!”
There was a final jerk given to the trunk, next a grating and scratching sound against the wall, and then a rushing noise caused by the dislodging of a stone which fell with a crash, sending echoes repeating themselves far below, and after what seemed to be a measurable space of time there was a dull plosh as the stone plunged into water.
“Well,” said Dickenson, breaking the silence as all about him stood breathlessly listening for the next sound, “I’m rather glad that wasn’t I.”
“Attention!” cried Captain Roby angrily as two or three of the men burst into a half-smothered guffaw. “Who has a match?”
“I have,” said Dickenson, striking a wax vesta as he spoke, the bright flash being followed by the feeble little taper flame; “but it’s nearly the last. Bring that lantern here.”
There was a quick response, the bearer opening the door with fumbling fingers, and as he held the rapidly burning-down match Dickenson drew the pricker from his belt, held the light close, and began to operate on the wick of the little lamp inside the lantern.
“Only slipped down,” he said. “Wick was too small. Hold the lantern still, man. That’s better. I shall get it up directly.”
The scratching of the sharp steel point sounded quite loudly on the socket of the lamp as the wick kept eluding the efforts made, and the faint light threw up the grim faces around in a strangely weird way, while not another sound was heard but the hissing rush of the water far below, till suddenly there was a sharp bang, the lantern was nearly knocked out of its holder’s hand, and Dickenson yelled, “Oh Gemini!”
They were in utter darkness once more.
“Bah!” cried Roby. “How careless!”
“Burned down to my fingers,” said Dickenson coolly out of the black darkness. “Do you know, I don’t believe a bullet going into you hurts a bit more than being burned like that.”
“For goodness’ sake strike another match, Mr Dickenson,” cried the captain angrily.
“Fumbling for it now, sir. Doesn’t seem as if there are any more. Yes, here’s one little joker hiding in a corner. Got him!”
Scr-r-r-itch! went the little match, and flashed into a bright flame which formed an arch in the air and disappeared down the yawning pit.
“Why, you left go!” cried Captain Roby.
“No wonder if I did, after burning my fingers so,” grumbled Dickenson; “but I didn’t, for I’ve got the wax here. Top jumped off.”
Then there was a tinkling sound as he shook the little silver box he held.
“Hurrah!” he cried. “Here’s one more. Ready with that lantern, my lad?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Take the lamp out and let me try if I can get the wick up with the pricker before I strike the match.”
The men’s breathing could be heard as they stood, with every nerve on the strain, listening to the scraping, scratching sound made in the excitement and dread caused by the horrible darkness; for there was not a man present, from officer to the youngest private, who had much faith that they would find the way back to the mouth of the cavern.
“For goodness’ sake mind you don’t drop the match, Mr Dickenson,” said the captain suddenly.
“Trust me, sir,” said Dickenson coolly. – “Ah, would you slip back into the paraffin. Come out,” he continued, apostrophising the wick he was pricking at. “Phew! How nasty it makes one’s fingers smell! Bravo! Got him at last.”
“Tut, tut, tut!” ejaculated the captain impatiently.
“Wait till I’ve opened the wick a little more. That’s it! Here, what am I to wipe my fingers on?”
“Oh, never mind your fingers, man,” cried Captain Roby.
“But they’re quite slippery, sir.”
“Rub ’em on my sleeve, sir,” growled Sergeant James.
“Thankye, sergeant, but I’ve just polished them on my own.”
Click! click! went the lamp as it was thrust back into the lantern, and there was once more the sound of men drawing their breath hard – a sound that was checked suddenly as the last match was heard to tinkle in the silver box.
“Got him!” said Dickenson audibly as he talked to himself. “Now then, ready with the lantern?” he said aloud.
“Yes, sir.”
“Give me elbow-room, all of you.”
There was the sound of men shrinking back.
“Now then,” said Dickenson, “here goes! I hope the head won’t come off this time.”
Fuzz! and directly after fuzz! but no light followed the rubbing of the match.
“Why, it has got no head,” cried the striker in dismay, and at this announcement the men uttered a groan. “All right,” cried Dickenson cheerily. “I was rubbing its tail instead of the head.”
Cr-r-r-r-r-r-ch! went the match; there was a burst of flame, followed at a trifling interval by the steady glow of the tiny taper, and the young officer’s fingers were lit up and seen to bear the flame to the lantern lamp, which caught at once and blazed up, when the door was shut with a click, and the men exhaled their pent-up breath in a hearty cheer.
“Well done!” said Captain Roby. “Here, I’ll lead now; or would you like to continue what you began, Mr Lennox?”
The latter looked at him, and seemed to hesitate.
“Oh, very well,” said Roby rather contemptuously. “I’ll lead myself.”
“No, no; you misunderstood me,” cried Lennox as Dickenson turned upon him wonderingly. “I want to go on.”
“I don’t want to rob you of your chance,” said Roby. – “Here, Mr Dickenson, what two men went back to fetch those lights?”
“Corporal May and Channings tried to feel their way, sir, but they found the job hopeless.”
“But I gave orders.”
“Yes, sir,” said Dickenson; “but they could not find their way.”
“I’ll speak about this later on,” said Roby. “Now then, Mr Lennox, are you ready?”
“Yes, sir,” was the reply as the young officer stood waiting for Sergeant James, who had slipped off his scarf, passed it through the handle of the lantern, and was securing it to his waist.
“Then forward!” cried Roby.
“Better let me lead, sir, on account of the light,” half-whispered the sergeant; “then you can be ready to give point at any one who comes at me.”
“No,” said Lennox firmly; “I must lead. Leave your rifle, and follow me, bayonet in hand.”
He stepped to the mouth of the pit, tried the ladder-like contrivance, found it fairly firm, and began to descend as fast as he could; while, risking the strength of the wood, the sergeant stepped on as soon as there was room and followed, shedding the dancing light’s rays on the weird-looking walls of the place.
Dickenson went next, and the captain followed, to find those in front waiting upon a fairly wide shelf, upon which the bottom of the tree was propped, while beneath it, and sloping now, the well-like pit went down into the black darkness, up from which the hollow, echoing rush of water came in a way which made some of the stoutest present shudder.
The shelf was at the mouth of a low archway which proved, upon the lantern being held up, to be the entrance to another of the ramifications of the great series of caves with which the kopje was honeycombed. Here within a few yards lay the first lantern, which had rebounded on falling and rolled down into a narrow crack in the flooring, a rift which ran from somewhere ahead, draining the interior of the cavern passage, and bearing a tiny stream of water to join the rushing waters below, these being undoubtedly the source of the perennial stream which issued from the foot of the kopje.
One of the men pounced upon the lantern at once, to find that, though the glass was much cracked, it was perfectly ready for use; and there was a short delay while it was relit without application to the one the sergeant had just detached, one of the men having now recalled that he had a tin box of matches nearly full.
The moment this was done Captain Roby gave the order to advance. He sent the lantern-bearers forward with orders to keep to right and left; and at the end of about a hundred feet, where the cavern chamber was beginning to contract, he called aloud for them to halt.
“Now, Mr Lennox,” he cried, “advance with six men abreast in a line with the lights, and make ready to fire if the man in front does not surrender. Attention!”
His orders echoed along the roof of what seemed to be quite a narrow passage in front, and the men listened till the last echoes died out, when Captain Roby spoke again.
“Hoi, there, you Boer in hiding!” he cried. “Your comrade’s a prisoner, and if you wish to save your life, surrender too.”
The captain waited, but there was no reply, and the word was given to advance again, when suddenly from out of the darkness beyond the range of the lights there came the sharp, clear click! click! of a piece being cocked.
“There’s the answer, Mr Lennox,” said the captain. “Give your orders, and clear the place.”
“No, stop; I surrender,” came from a hoarse voice speaking in broken English. “Tell your men not to shoot.”
“Come forward,” cried Lennox, “and give up your piece.”
He stepped towards the spot from whence the voice had come, to see the crossing lights of the two lanterns centre upon the broad, familiar face of one of the Boers who had been captured, and who had returned with the loaded wagons and the powder-bags, of which the last portion had been secured a short time before.
The man halted, and stood with his rifle presented at the young officer’s breast.
“One man can’t fight against a hundred,” he growled.
“Only with treachery and deceit,” said Lennox sternly. “Give up your rifle, you cowardly dog.”
“Not till you give your English word that I shall not be shot,” replied the Boer.
“I’ll give the order for you to be shot down if you don’t give up your piece,” cried Lennox angrily.
“You give the word that I shall only be a prisoner, or I’ll shoot you through the heart,” cried the Boer harshly.
