Part 41 (1/2)

”Lad, give me your hand!” exclaimed Frank Russel enthusiastically. ”G.o.d bless you, old boy, and I trust that you'll live to see the end of this awful war! I can tell you, Jack, that there's no other man I know whom I'd rather have as a son-in-law. You're young, but that will alter fast enough, and the girl is a good one. She's been a devoted daughter to me, as you well know, and if she's only half as good to her husband when she's married, then he'll have no cause to complain. Shake hands on it again. Now let us get along.”

When the news of Jack's engagement was communicated to Tom Salter and Wilfred they congratulated him heartily. Then his pony was led out, and after a cordial farewell he mounted and left the town. It was a pitch-dark night, and luck was again in his favour, so that he escaped the notice of the Boer pickets, and when day dawned was well away from Kimberley.

It was a long and lonely ride to Mafeking, but to Jack the time pa.s.sed pleasantly, and the road seemed short, for all the way his thoughts were occupied with the happy prospects in front of him when the war was over.

He would wait two years perhaps, and then he and Eileen would be married and live in Africa till he reached the age of twenty-five. His allowance under his father's will, and the sum he could earn at the mines, or at Mr Hunter's store in Johannesburg, if that still existed, when added to it would be amply sufficient to keep them in comfort.

Then they would return to old England, and Eileen would become the mistress of Frampton Grange.

Jack built many castles in the air, and might have erected many more had not a party of mounted Boers caught sight of him and given chase. But our hero was now well able to take care of himself, and he quickly eluded his pursuers. Then he pushed forward, and in two days' time arrived at Mafeking.

There was a great change in the town. Scanty rations and absence of all luxuries had produced their results. Constant fighting and the explosion of sh.e.l.l on every hand had wrought sad havoc with the gallant little garrison. Wan of face, pinched and haggard, out more determined than ever, they still manned their posts, and B.-P., smiling still in spite of a load of responsibility, still made his rounds and cheered his men.

And outside, the Boers fired their guns, throwing sh.e.l.l everywhere, not even sparing the hospital and women's laager, in which many women and children had already fallen victims. Protests had proved unavailing, and now the children and their mothers lived elsewhere, while all the Boer prisoners filled the hospital and laager, and ran the risk of being slaughtered by their friends outside.

Jack stayed only long enough to deliver his message and obtain some sleep. Then, loaded with despatches, he slipped from the town once more and cantered south, _en route_ for Lord Roberts's camp.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

THE ROAD TO VICTORY.

The month of January was just drawing to a close when Jack on-saddled in the market square of Mafeking, now almost battered out of all recognition by the tremendous and continuous sh.e.l.l fire to which it had been so long subjected, and, vaulting into his seat, settled his rifle across his shoulders, strapped on the water-sack which dangled on one aide, carrying a supply sufficient to last until he reached the Modder River, and, picking up the reins, trotted across the open s.p.a.ce.

Quite a crowd had collected to see him off and wave him an adieu, and many a message was entrusted to him, and many a ”So long, Jack, old horse!” followed him. Soon he was at the outskirts, where he pa.s.sed the pickets, and pushed on, searching the ground in every direction with eyes which were now as sharp as a hawk's. Once he almost stumbled on a Boer advanced picket lying on a small kopje, but a crouching figure and a big hat dimly silhouetted against the star-lit sky warned him, and in an instant he and his pony were lying p.r.o.ne upon the veldt.

”Wie gaat daar?” came in hoa.r.s.e tones across to him, but he lay like a log, without answering; nor did he take any notice when a rifle flashed and a bullet buzzed some yards above him.

”I'll lie where I am,” he thought. ”They did not catch sight of me, but probably heard some suspicious sound. I'll give them half an hour to clear away, and if they are not gone by then I'll make a bolt for it.”

But there was no necessity for this, for suddenly the long naval smooth-bore gun now used in Mafeking belched out its home-made sh.e.l.l, and the picket lying in front of him rose to their feet and looked back at their own camp, where, a moment later, a dull, muttering roar and a brilliant spurt of flame showed that the missile had exploded.

In an instant Jack was on his pony again, and, turning slightly to the left, galloped away at his fastest pace. All that night he kept on steadily, and at daybreak hid up in a patch of mimosa bush.

By the following morning he was nearing the Modder River, and was on the point of concealing himself again when he caught sight of a figure some three hundred yards in front of him.

In a moment his pony was lying on the ground, and Jack was crawling, rifle in hand, towards the stranger.

”I could pick him off from here,” he thought, lying flat upon his stomach and taking a steady aim at the man's head, ”but he doesn't seem to have noticed me, and I hate the idea of shooting a poor fellow without giving him a chance of making a fight for it. Besides, for all I know he may be an Englishman. Perhaps it is Riley. He left Mafeking with despatches a week before I got there, but he was new to the game, and might easily have come to grief. But otherwise he ought to have reached our camp long before this.”

Jack lowered his rifle, and, removing his hat from his head, looked long and carefully at the stranger through his gla.s.ses. To all appearance he might be either a Boer or an Englishman, for he wore a ragged sombrero on his head and a tattered s.h.i.+rt on his back. His face was turned in the opposite direction from Jack, and every now and again he raised himself upon his elbow and looked out across the veldt. Then, as if with considerable effort, he dragged himself a few paces forward and looked out again.

”I believe that fellow is wounded,” murmured Jack. ”At any rate I'll get closer to him, and keep my gun ready in case of emergencies.”

Crawling stealthily forward, he made a slight detour, and soon approached the stranger within fifty yards. At this distance his appearance was certainly in favour of his being English, and taking up a position behind a screen of leaves, Jack called out: ”Hallo, there!”

Instantly the stranger turned his head, and stared about him in bewilderment. Then he answered, in a tremulous voice: ”Hullo! Help me for G.o.d's sake!”

There was now no doubt that he was a comrade in distress, and, jumping to his feet, Jack ran across towards him, only to find that the poor fellow had fainted. Placing him on his back, Jack sprinkled some water on his face, and soon had the satisfaction of bringing him round.

”Who are you, old chap?” he asked.