The Kopje Garrison: A Story of the Boer War
“I give no word. Surrender unconditionally,” cried Lennox, whose blood was up.
“Give your word, you miserable rooinek!” growled the Boer, whose teeth shone in the light, giving him the aspect of some fierce beast at bay. “Give your word. You’re covered – your word of honour, or I’ll fire.”
“Fire!” shouted Captain Roby from behind; but the six men halted before obeying the ill-judged command. For, in response to the Boer’s threat, Lennox had sprung forward to strike at the presented piece, the edge of his sword clicking loudly against the barrel of the rifle, turning it sufficiently aside to disorder the desperate man’s aim, so that the bullet whistled by him and over the heads of his men, before sending a little shower of granite splinters and dust from the side of the cavern.
Before the Boer could fire again Lennox had him by the throat, and in another minute he was held up against the cavern wall by three men with their bayonets, while the sergeant wrested the rifle from his hands and tore away the man’s well-filled bandolier.
“Ah!” he snarled; “cowards again. Always cowards, since the day when you ran away from us at Majuba.”
“Hold your tongue, sir, before you are hurt by some of the men who know that they have one of the bravo miscreants before them who lay powder-mines ready to destroy those they dare not fight in the open field.”
“Tell the dog I’ll have him gagged as well as bound if he does not keep his tongue quiet,” said Captain Roby, coming up.
The Boer laughed mockingly; and Captain Roby, who seemed unable to restrain the anger rising within him, turned away.
“See that he has no revolver, Lennox,” he said hoarsely, “and try to find out whether he has any companions.”
“He wouldn’t say if he had,” replied Lennox; “but we’ll soon search and see. Sergeant James is making him fast. Yes, he had a revolver,” he continued as he saw the sergeant take the weapon and thrust it inside his belt.
The next minute the prisoner was secure between two men, and the light-bearers went forward, to be brought to a standstill almost directly by the contraction of the cellar-like place, out of which there was no way in that direction.
Having satisfied themselves of this, the party hastened back to the tree, and stood looking about for a time, examining a few cracks and rifts, before the orders were given to mount to the upper cave – a risky and unpleasant task, for the tree-trunk was loose. The men, however, for the most part made light of it, and as soon as the big chamber was reached they proceeded to thoroughly examine that, when, to the delight of all, its real character of a hiding-place and storehouse belonging to one of the native tribes was revealed: for scores of huge woven baskets were piled-up, looking at a few yards’ distance, with no better illumination than the military lamps, like masses of rock, but containing hundreds upon hundreds of bushels of hard, sweet corn, failing which there would soon have been only one chance of escape for the detachment, and that by a bold attempt to cut their way through.
The search was continued, but nothing more rewarded their efforts. There was the ample supply of corn, stored up by some tribe, and outside the bags of gunpowder hidden by the Boers, whose plan was quite evident, and thoroughly realised by all who had discovered the entrance – to blow up the great gun captured from them and destroy the stronghold that checked their advance.
Before long a sentry was marching up and down in front of that ingenious specimen of native work, the big stone entrance to the cave which ran so easily upon a pivot; while the detachment in charge of the big gun talked shudderingly of the risk they had unknowingly been running, for, given a little longer time and the right opportunity, their two crafty enemies would undoubtedly have fired their mine and blown the greater part of the kopje-top into the air.
“I was growing anxious over the long silence,” said the colonel, smiling, after he had been made aware or the success attending the party that had hurried up at the alarm, and after he had examined the prisoners; “but you have done a splendid night’s work – cleared away an impending danger, and secured a storehouse of corn sufficient for a whole month.”
“A month or more,” said Captain Roby.
“Ha! Then we can hold out and wait. But about these prisoners. Here, major, what do you say?”
“Humph!” ejaculated the major. “Two of the treacherous hounds who deceived us, and whom we let go to fetch us supplies.”
“And came back to blow us up,” said the colonel.
“Failed in that,” said Captain Roby, “and then started another cold-blooded, treacherous plan.”
“Yes,” said the colonel, “based upon the knowledge they must have wrung from one of the native tribes they have oppressed. Well, gentlemen, we have two of the miscreant spies. What next?”
“The fate of spies,” said Captain Roby. “I think it is due to our men that they should be shot.”
“Kept prisoners till we can hand them over to the general, and let him decide,” said the major. “What do you say, Edwards?”
“They are prisoners, and beaten,” said the captain. “Yes, I side with you.”
“Two against you, Roby,” said the colonel. – “Well, Lennox – and you, Dickenson – you may as well give your opinion. What do you say, Dickenson?”
“I should like to see that black-haired brute tied up and flogged, sir.”
“Should you?” said the colonel, smiling. “Well, I dare say he deserves it; but it is not the punishment we can give a prisoner, so your opinion will stand alone. – Well, Lennox?”
“Oh, it’s all war, sir; and the fellows are half-savage peasants who hate us like poison. You can’t shoot them, sir, for fighting their best – their way.”
“No, Mr Lennox, I can’t shoot them; but it will be a horrible nuisance to have to keep them as prisoners. I wish they had died fighting like brave men. As it is they will have to live prisoners till the war is at an end. Now then, about where to place them.”
“Here, I know, sir,” said Dickenson, laughing. “Shut them up in the kopje. They’ll be quite at home there.”
“No,” said Lennox, joining in his comrade’s merriment; “don’t trust them there, sir. They’re malicious enough to spend their time destroying all the corn.”
“Well done, Lennox!” said the colonel emphatically. “I’m glad you spoke, for before anything was said I had determined to make their hiding-place their prison. You are right. That would not do at all. – Roby, you must have your prisoners placed in the safest hut that you can find, and let a sentry share their prison, for they must never be left alone. Now, gentlemen: bed.”
Chapter Sixteen.
The Lost Man
“Yes, sir, I’m very sorry, and feel that it’s a great disgrace,” said Colour-Sergeant James.
“Sorry!” said Captain Roby contemptuously.
“It’s all I can be, sir,” said the sergeant sadly. “I’m not going to defend myself.”
“But how could you miss him when the roll was called?”
“I don’t know, sir. I suppose it was all due to the excitement and being fagged out with what we’d gone through in that black hole.”
“Black hole!” cried Roby. “You deserve the Black Hole yourself, sergeant.”
“Yes, sir. I thought he answered, but the poor fellow must have lost his way somehow, and have got left behind.”
“It’s horrible,” cried Roby. “I don’t know what’s to be done.”
“Go in search of the poor fellow at once. It’s enough to send a man out of his mind,” broke in Lennox impatiently.
“I did not ask you for your opinion, Mr Lennox,” said the captain coldly. – “Here, James, come with me to the colonel at once.”
“Yes, sir,” said the sergeant, and he followed his superior.
“What nonsense!” cried Dickenson. “Here, Drew, old man, let’s go on up to the hole at once with half-a-dozen men and lanterns.”
“That’s what I wanted to do,” said Lennox bitterly; “but I suppose it would be going against discipline.”
“Going against your grandmother! Hesitate, when the poor fellow may be dying of fright? He is rather a chicken-hearted sort of a customer.”
“So would you be if you lost yourself in that dismal hole.”
“True, oh king! I should sit down in a fit of the horrors, and howl for my mother till I cried myself to sleep.”
“No, you wouldn’t, Bob. But old Roby does make me set up my bristles sometimes. I don’t know what’s come to him lately.”
“I know what I should like to see come to him.”
“What?”
“A good licking.”
“Yes, to be followed by court-martial.”
“Not if a Boer did it,” said Dickenson, chuckling.
“What are you laughing at?”
“Thoughts, dear boy. Only thinking of what a lark it would be if he began bullying one of our prisoners – say Blackbeard – and the savage old Boer slipped into him with his fists. I shouldn’t hurry to help him more than I could help.”
“Don’t humbug,” said Lennox.
“I tell you I shouldn’t. Look here, Drew, old chap, you haven’t found me out yet. I’m not half such a nice young angel as you think.”
“Hold your row; here’s James.” For the sergeant came hurrying in. – “Well?”
“Search party of twenty directly, gentlemen. Colonel sends word that you two are to come with us.”
“Right,” cried Lennox excitedly. “What did the colonel say?”
“‘Poor fellow!’ sir; and then he turned on the captain, sir.”
“Yes,” cried Dickenson eagerly, “What did he say to him?”
“Why the something or another hadn’t he gone to look for Corporal May at once?”
“Bravo!” said Dickenson; and Lennox, who was buckling on his sword hurriedly, felt better.
“But how about you, James? Are you going to be degraded for neglect?” said Dickenson as they hurried out to join the men already assembled.
“No, sir,” replied the sergeant, with a broad smile spreading over his manly countenance. “The colonel heard all I had to say in defence, and he just says, ‘Bad job, sergeant – accident.’ – You know his short way, sir? – Then, ‘Be off and get your men together; find the poor fellow as soon as you can.’”
Captain Roby was just hurrying to a group of men waiting to make the start, when Sergeant James came up, carrying all the lanterns he could muster in a bunch. “Come, gentlemen,” he said sharply; “make haste, please. Have you plenty of matches, sergeant?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fall in, my lads. Here, stop. No rifles; only your bayonets.”
The firearms were returned to their quarters, and a couple of minutes later the search party were on their way to the kopje.
“Beg pardon, sir,” said the sergeant, suddenly breaking from his place to address the captain; “wouldn’t it be better to take a long rope with us?”
“What for?” said Roby angrily. “For the men to hold on by in case any one should be lost? Absurd!”
The sergeant was returning to his place, and Lennox and Dickenson exchanging glances, when the captain altered his mind.
“Yes,” he said; “on second thoughts, we may as well take a coil. Hurry back and fetch one, sergeant.”
The latter handed his bunch of lanterns to one of the men, and went off back to quarters at the double, while the party marched on.
“Fasting doesn’t do old Cantankerous any good,” said Dickenson in a half-whisper.
“Quiet! Quiet! He’ll be hearing you and getting worse,” said Lennox.
“Impossible!” grunted Dickenson. “He wants a week’s good feeding or a fit of illness to do him good. He’s going sour all over.”
The sergeant did not overtake the party till they were close upon the entrance to the cave, where a sentry was pacing up and down; and now a sudden thought struck Roby.
“Here, sergeant,” he cried angrily as the latter hurried up, rather breathless with his exertions. “How are we to get into the place? You haven’t brought a crowbar to move the stone.”
“No, sir. Left it hidden close by last night.”
“Oh!” grunted Roby, halting the men; while the sergeant handed the coil of rope to one of them, who slipped it on over head and one shoulder, to wear it like a scarf; and James went on a few yards to a crack in the side of the rocky wall, thrust in his arm, drew out the bar, and trotted back to the opening, inserted the chisel, and raised the stone about an inch, when it turned upon its pivot directly.
“Wonderfully well made,” said Dickenson. “One might have passed it a hundred times.”
“Silence in the ranks!” cried Roby sternly; and the sergeant stepped into the dark hole at once, placed his hands one on either side of his lips, and gave a tremendous hail.
All listened to the shout, which went echoing through the passages and chambers of the cavern; but there was no reply, nor yet to half-a-dozen more hails.
“Tut, tut, tut!” ejaculated Roby. “I expected to find him waiting close to the entrance. Lanterns.”
The men were already inside lighting them, eight being rapidly got ready; and once more the party began to traverse the weird place, but under far more favourable circumstances, the line of golden dots formed by the lanterns giving every one a far better opportunity of judging what the place was like.
At every turn in the crooked way a halt was called, and a fresh series of hails went echoing on before them; but not so much as a whisper of an answer greeted their ears.
“The poor fellow must have become tired out with waiting,” said Captain Roby, “and dropped off to sleep.”
“He sleeps pretty soundly, then,” whispered Dickenson, who was in front with Lennox, following the sergeant, who carried the first lantern.
“Ought to have been woke up by that last shout, though,” said Lennox. “What do you say, sergeant?”
“I’m afraid we shall come upon him soon regularly off his head, gentlemen,” said the sergeant, “He isn’t the pluckiest chap in his company.”
“Don’t talk like that, sergeant,” said Lennox sharply. “It’s enough to drive any poor fellow crazy to find himself shut up in a place like this and feel that he may never be found.”
“Well, yes,” added Dickenson, “it is; without counting all the horrors he’d conjure up about bogies and things coming after him in the dark.”
“I dare say, sir,” said the sergeant; “though I don’t suppose there’s anything worse here than bats.”
“Halt! Now, all together,” cried the captain from behind, and another series of shouts were given.
There was no response, and the party went spreading out and examining every nook as they passed through the echoing chambers, but found nothing.
“Is it likely that he did come out with us?” said Lennox as they neared the second well-like opening over the rushing water.
“Can’t say, sir,” said the sergeant. “The last I saw of him was when we were down in the lowest place, advancing to meet the second prisoner. I just had a squint of his face then by the lantern, and it looked like tallow.”
“Effect of the light,” said Dickenson.
“No, sir. It was the getting down that tree and hearing the water.”
“That’s it, sergeant,” said the nearest man behind. “I never thought of it till you said that.”
“Thought of what?” said the sergeant roughly.
“’Bout what Corporal May said to me.”
“What was it?”
“That it was enough to scare any one getting down such a ladder as that, and if he’d known, he’d have seen the service anywhere before he’d have come.”
“Yes, he looked regularly scared, gentlemen,” said the sergeant; and then he stopped short, swinging his lantern over the hole before him and showing the top of the tree ladder, while the gurgling, echoing whisper of the running water seemed to fill the air with strange sounds. But these were drowned directly by a fresh burst of hails, which went echoing away.
“Forward!” said the captain at last. “Steady in front, there. Be careful how you go down, men.”
“Don’t be alarmed, dear Roby,” whispered Dickenson. “Just as if we shouldn’t be careful of our invaluable necks.”
There was plenty of light now, for Lennox carried a lantern on going down after the sergeant, who had gone first, and stood at the bottom holding up his own, while four more were held over the yawning pit from the top. The men, too, were in better trim for the descent, knowing as they did the worst of what they had to encounter, so that they went down pluckily enough, in spite of the tree quivering and threatening to turn round, till it was held more steadily at both ends.
Then, as all crowded into the archway and hailed once more, their shouts seemed to return to them faintly from the arrow-shaped hollow, which from being broad at first went off nearly to a point, and more weirdly still from the continuation of the pit where the water ran.
“I’m beginning to be afraid he is not here,” said the captain. “Open out, my lads, and thoroughly search every hollow and corner.”
The men shouted again, with no result; and then they spread out like a fan and advanced, searching behind every stone, right on past the spot where the second Boer had been captured, and on once more till the cavern narrowed in and there was only room to creep.
“Hold the light closer, sergeant,” said Lennox.
“See anything?” cried Roby from just behind him.
“Can’t tell yet, sir. – What’s that, sergeant?”
For answer the sergeant went down on his hands and knees and advanced, pushing his lantern before him.
“There, you needn’t do that,” said Roby impatiently. “The man’s not here. It’s a false alarm. He wasn’t left behind, and we shall find him somewhere, when we get back to quarters. Come out, sergeant. I’m sick of this.”
“But there’s something here, sir.”
“Eh? What is it?”
The sergeant thrust something behind him, and Lennox went down on hands and knees, reached into the narrow hole, which the sergeant nearly filled, and snatched the object from the man’s hand.
“His helmet!” cried Lennox excitedly, and he too passed it back to where Roby and Dickenson were, and they examined the recovered headpiece.
“Oh, there’s no doubt about it,” said Dickenson. “Look here,” he cried as Lennox and the sergeant came back; “what do you make of this?”
“Oh! it’s the poor fellow’s helmet, gentlemen,” said the sergeant. “Look at his number, sir.”
“Then where is he? Is there any opening in yonder?”
“Not room for a rat, sir. Seems as if he must have been left behind and felt his way in there to sleep. Look here, sir; I found these too.”
The speaker held out a short black pipe with a little blackened, lately-smoked tobacco at the bottom, and a tin box containing plenty of matches.
“Why, he had all these and never said a word when I was so hard pushed,” cried Dickenson.
“I expect he was in too much of a stoo to remember them, sir,” said the sergeant. “He must have been precious queer, or he wouldn’t have left these and his helmet behind.”
“He was nearly off his chump, sergeant, with having to come down,” said the man with the short memory.
“Then he has been here!” cried Captain Roby. “But where is he now?”
As if moved by one impulse, every one present turned sharply round to look in the direction of the archway beyond which the sloping continuation of the entrance-pit went on down to the running water. No one spoke, but all thought horrors; and Lennox acted, for, snatching a lantern from the nearest bearer, he ran as fast as the rugged floor would let him, back to the archway, took hold of the tree-trunk, and leaned over the horrible hole, swinging the light downward, while those who watched him, looking weird and strange in the distance, heard him shout loudly, and listened to hear, very faintly rising from far below, a faintly uttered, hollow moan.
Chapter Seventeen.
Fishing with a Rope
“Forward!” cried Captain Roby loudly.
“Forward!” said a wonderfully exact echo from the pit, and the cavern chamber seemed to burst into strange, echoing repetitions of the confused trampling and rushing and thundering of feet, as, with the dancing lanterns, the men sprang forward to render help.
“He’s down here,” cried Lennox in excitement. “Silence, all of you!”
Captain Roby looked annoyed at the way in which his subaltern officer seemed to take the lead; but he said nothing then, only stood frowning, while in the midst of a breathless silence Lennox leaned over the dangerous-looking place and hailed again.
“Corporal! Are you down there?”
There was no response, and once more he hailed.
“Corporal May!”
This time there was a piteous moan.
“Oh! there’s no doubt about it,” cried Lennox. “Tie a lantern to the rope and lower it down. Let’s see where he is.”
“Thank you, Mr Lennox,” said Roby coldly. “I will give the necessary orders.”
“I beg pardon, sir,” said Lennox, drawing back; but as he glanced aside he saw that the sergeant was busy with the end of the rope, fastening it to the handle of one of the lanterns, and the man who had slipped it off his shoulder was rapidly uncoiling the ring.
“Anybody got a flask?” said Dickenson. “We might send him down a reviver with the light.”
But there was no reply, flasks being rarities at Groenfontein, and such as there were did not contain a drop. By this time the lantern was ready, and Sergeant James glanced at the captain, who signed to him to lower away.
Directly after, the descending lantern was lighting up the sides of the gulf, which were not six feet apart; but how far the great crack-like place extended they could not see, the light penetrating but a little distance, and then all was black darkness, out of which, from far below, there came up the murmuring, gurgling rush of the running water.
As for the lantern, as soon as it was lowered down it ceased swinging, coming with a sharp tap against smooth rock which went downward in a pretty regular slope, but so steep that the lantern lay upon its side and glided down as fast as the men could pay out the rope.
“I sha’n’t have length enough, I’m afraid, sir,” said the sergeant, who leaned over the edge.
“Then why didn’t you bring more?” cried the captain angrily.
The sergeant was silent, and grate! grate! grate! the lantern went on down over the rock face, which sparkled with moisture, for an exceedingly thin sheet of water glistened and went on wearing it down as it probably had from the time the great kopje cavern was formed.
But still there was no sign of the missing man – nothing but glistening rock, and beyond that darkness.
“How much more rope have you?” said the sergeant in a whisper.
“’Bout a dozen feet,” said the man who was passing it to him from behind.
“Swing the lantern to and fro,” cried the captain sharply.
“It won’t swing, sir,” replied the sergeant. “If I try, it will only roll over on to its face.”
“Never mind; you haven’t tried. Now swing it,” cried Roby.
“Bottom,” cried the sergeant, for the lantern stopped short, and down beneath it there was a flash and a quivering reflection, showing that it was close to the flowing water.
“What is it resting on?” said Lennox eagerly, for he had forgotten the snub he had received and was all eagerness to help. “I didn’t hear it click on rock.”
“Just what I was thinking, sir,” replied the sergeant, lifting the suspended lantern again and letting it descend once more.
“I wish to goodness, Mr Lennox, that you would not keep on interfering,” cried Captain Roby angrily. – “Now, sergeant, what do you make out?”
“Rests on something soft, sir. No; it’s hit against something hard. Why, it’s metal – a buckle.”
“I know,” cried Lennox, forgetting himself again. “You’ve lowered it right down on to the poor fellow, and he’s above the water.”
“Mr – ” began the captain angrily, but his words were drowned in the hearty cheer given by the men. – “Silence!” cried Captain Roby, and leaning over, he shouted down the horrible-looking pit. – “Unfasten the rope from the lantern,” he said, “and tie it tightly round your breast. Don’t be frightened now: we’ll soon have you out.”
There was no response.
“Tut, tut, tut!” went the captain again. “Some one will have to go down. Who’ll volunteer?”
“I will, sir,” cried Lennox excitedly, before any one else could answer.
The captain was silent for a few moments, and then, in a way that seemed to suggest that he had been trying to find some objection to giving his consent, “Very well, Mr Lennox,” he said. – “Here, sergeant, haul up the light again.”
This was rapidly done, the lantern set free, and the rope tied securely just beneath the young man’s arms.
“How will you have the lantern, sir?” said the sergeant.
