Part 40 (1/2)

Within little more than a week after leaving Natal, Jack Somerton and the staff-officer whom he had met on board the transport were seated in the train _en route_ for Lord Methuen's camp on the Modder River. It was a long and tedious run--now crawling along the iron track, and scaling steep acclivities which barred their onward progress, and round the sides of which the railway could be seen winding in and out, and later rattling down the other side till the veldt was reached; then on and on, over an endless, brownish waste of sand and barren earth, here and there relieved by a bright patch of vivid green, where the young spring gra.s.s had made its appearance.

”Here is a note for you, Mr Somerton,” said the staff-officer as the train came in sight of the Modder camp. ”Take it to the quartermaster who looks after the general staff, and he will give you a tent and bedding, and also obtain a good pony for you. When you have settled down come over to the general's quarters. You know, Lord Roberts is here. He arrived last night, and sent special orders to me by telegram to introduce you to him. Goodbye for the present! I shall see you in an hour's time.”

Thanking him for his kindness, Jack made his way into the camp as soon as the train drew up at the rough platform that had been built, and after making enquiries, was shown where the quartermaster was to be found. Half an hour later his tent was pitched close behind those allotted to Lord Roberts's staff.

”You want a pony too, I see,” said the quartermaster. ”Well, Mr Somerton, a number of them arrived only this morning, and are now being taken out of the train. I will speak to the officer in charge of remounts and transport animals, and if you will come back later on I have no doubt you will be able to choose your animal from amongst three or four hundred.”

Accordingly Jack retraced his steps, and shortly afterwards walked across to the little farmhouse in which the celebrated general had taken up his quarters. When he emerged from the commander-in-chief's sanctum an hour later, Jack was not only delighted with the kindness and urbanity of Lord Roberts, but had mastered all the particulars which he was to carry into Kimberley.

Then he went across to the remount-camp and selected a likely-looking pony. That night he on-saddled, and without a word to anyone slipped out of the camp, taking care to avoid the notice of the British sentries. This was in accordance with the general's wishes, which had been communicated to him only an hour before by his friend the staff-officer.

”Look here, Somerton,” the latter had said, ”the general has just sent me across to tell you that he wants you to get away from the camp without anyone knowing. There is never any saying whether or not spies are about I firmly believe they are everywhere; and the news you are to take into Kimberley is so important that it is absolutely necessary that no one should have an idea as to what are our intentions. Get away from this secretly. There--I will leave the rest to you. Do as well as you did while escaping from Ladysmith, and we shall have nothing to complain about.”

It was still pitch dark, therefore, when Jack vaulted into his saddle and rode silently across the camp. Arrived at the outskirts, he turned to the left and kept steadily on, keeping carefully on the gra.s.s, which dulled the sound of his pony's hoofs. Very shortly he was clear of the pickets, and turning once more to the left pushed forward for the beleaguered town of Kimberley. Soon a brilliant moon came up, and he carefully concealed himself amongst the rugged boulders of a kopje, and, raising his head, swept the country round with his gla.s.ses. There was no one in sight, so he mounted his pony again and cantered on at a rapid pace. Early the next morning he rode into Kimberley, having slipped through the circle of Boers with the greatest ease.

He was immediately taken before Colonel Kekewich, the commander of the town, and delivered his message.

”I was instructed by Lord Roberts,” he said, after saluting the colonel, ”to tell you that, all being well, you may expect him to relieve you in a month's time from this date. He also asks that you will be ready to act, as far as possible, in conjunction with his relieving force.”

The news, meagre though it was, was eagerly listened to, and Jack had to answer many questions before he was permitted to leave. Outside the house he found Tom Salter, his old friend, waiting for him with a welcoming smile on his sunburnt face.

”Ah, Jack!” he cried out with a merry laugh, ”turned up again like a bad penny, have you? Well, I quite expected it, and my only wonder is that you haven't been here before. You've so many friends to meet again, haven't you, old boy? Why, I can a.s.sure you that I know several who are simply longing to see you, one especially, Eileen Russel, turned as white as a sheet, poor girl, when she heard the news. Ha, ha, it's a shame to tease you now, but she's a splendid girl is Eileen Russel!”

Tom laughed heartily, and smacked Jack on the back, and then grasped his hand and shook it up and down like a pump-handle.

”Then she is all right, Tom!” exclaimed our hero, with a sigh of relief, for ever since he had ridden north to Mafeking he had been wondering whether the brave English girl who had stood so staunchly by them in Frank Russel's ruined farmstead had survived the trials of a siege which had lasted now so many weeks.

”Tell me all about her and the others, Tom,” he proceeded eagerly. ”I have been over in Ladysmith, and ever since I left Mafeking and was taken to Pretoria I have heard not a single word of you.”

”Goodness, Jack! Pretoria and Ladysmith! whatever do you mean?”

exclaimed Tom in astonishment. ”You left us here to carry despatches to Baden-Powell--and precious sorry hearts you left behind you, my lad, I can tell you--and since then, as we heard nothing of you save that you had reached your destination, we quite believed that you had taken up your quarters with the plucky garrison in Mafeking and were helping them to keep out the Boers. And now you talk about Pretoria and Ladysmith!

What does it all mean? Out with it, man!”

”Oh, it's a long yarn, Tom!” Jack laughed, ”and I'll give it to you this evening, but just now I should like to see the others.”

”Of course you would, old boy!” exclaimed Tom. ”Come along, and follow me closely, or else you will have a shower of millets flying around your head. Ah, here we are! Hop down into that trench. Now push on and take the third turn to the right. We are bound to take care of ourselves here, and as our streets are often swept by bullets, and a bursting sh.e.l.l is a common thing, we have dug these shelter trenches.”

Dropping into a deep trench, Jack and his friend pushed along rapidly, halting once, however, and crouching low as a huge sh.e.l.l shrieked just overhead, and, striking a storehouse opposite, s.h.i.+vered it into a thousand fragments, scattering the ruins on every side.

”That's about the only thing our friends are any good at,” said Tom Salter with a growl. ”They've sat outside this town for weeks and weeks, and all that time they've never given us a chance for a healthy fight. Bless you, they thought that the taking of Kimberley was a simple matter, and when they found that they had got men to deal with, they just sat down to starve us out, or worry us to death with their sh.e.l.ls; but a.s.sault us, or make anything like a plucky effort to take us, they have never done. But here we are; hop up, old boy. Now, follow me along here to the chamber of horrors; that's what we call our bomb-proof rooms. There it is; five steps down, and turn to the left.”

Jack descended a flight of wooden steps, and, turning to the left, entered a low subterranean chamber, lighted by a spluttering candle stuck into the neck of a bottle standing upon a table in the centre. It was Tom Salter's sanctum, in which he and three others lived and sheltered from the Boer sh.e.l.ls, thousands of which had fallen into the beleaguered town since the commencement of the siege.

”Now, put your traps down there and have a wash,” said Tom, indicating a bucket of water and a towel; ”then I will take you along to Frank and his girl. Halloo! Come in!” he shouted, as a knock was heard just outside the chamber.

The next moment Wilfred Hunter burst in, and rushed up to Jack. The two lads shook hands warmly.

”Back again, Jack? I'm glad to see you, old chap!” Wilfred cried excitedly. ”Why, what a whopping big fellow you've got; as broad as a house, and taller, I am sure. But come along, I must not forget my message. The Russels want to see you, and ordered me to bring you along immediately. Ah, you lucky dog! I'd give anything to be in your shoes, for she's the best and sweetest girl that I or any other fellow ever set eyes on!”

Jack blushed red with pleasure, and his chest swelled and his heart beat with pride and hope, for, young though he was, since he had met Eileen Russel his thoughts had dwelt continuously upon her. Had he been at home, perhaps it would have been ridiculous folly; but for months now he had been doing man's work, and doing it well too,--work which required strength and pluck, and which moreover brought him at any hour of the day face to face with a sudden death. No wonder then that, sobered down from the usual impulsive rashness of a boy, our hero had thought seriously of Eileen. Many a time, as he lay in Pretoria suffering from his wound, had he wondered how she was, and whether she ever gave a thought to him. Sometimes he felt certain she did, and then at others the fear that it was some other--someone older and more of a man than he--turned his heart sick, and made the hopes which were now beginning to gain ground disappear in an instant. But they would return again, and as he had ridden towards Kimberley that day they had been surging through his heart, and he had determined to see Eileen, if she were yet alive, and ask the question for himself.

As if in a dream he sluiced his head and hands with water, and tidied his hair before a small, angular piece of cracked gla.s.s, a process which he had scarcely troubled about for many weeks. Then he followed Wilfred and Tom out of the bomb chamber and along the trench towards the Russels' quarters, feeling every yard he went more and more like a lamb going to the slaughter.