Part 32 (2/2)

CHAPTER FIVE.

A SUBLIME LIE.

”Trooper Skelsey missing, sir.”

Such the terse report. The patrol had continued its retreat the night through, taking advantage of the known aversion of the Matabele--in common, by the way, with pretty nearly all other savages--to fighting in the dark. Now it was just daybreak, and the muster had been called-- with the above result.

Where had he last been seen? n.o.body knew exactly. He had formed one of the party left as a rear-guard. Sybrandt had, however, exchanged a few words with him since they had all rejoined the patrol. Some declared they had seen him since, but, as to time a general mistiness prevailed.

”Well, I can't send back for him,” p.r.o.nounced the commanding officer curtly. ”He must take his chance. I'm not going to risk other men's lives for the sake of one, and seriously weaken the patrol into the bargain.”

”If you don't mind, Major,” said Blachland, who was standing by, ”I'll ride a mile or two back. I believe I can pick him up, and I've got the best horse of the few left us.”

”Guess you'll need him,” interjected the American scout.

”Well, I can't give you any men, Blachland,” said the Major. ”No, not one single man. You go at your own risk.”

”I'll take that. I've been into tighter corners before.”

Here several men volunteered, including Percival West. These were curtly dismissed.

”I don't want you, Percy,” said Blachland. ”In fact I wouldn't have you at any price--excuse my saying so.” And there was a laugh, in the midst of which the young fellow gave way to the inevitable.

But there was another man who proved less amenable, and that was Justin Spence.

”Do let me go, sir,” he said, stepping forward. ”Skelsey and I prospected together once.”

There was a momentary awkwardness, for all knew that since they had been in the field together the missing man had refused to exchange a word with his former chum and partner, whom he declared, had behaved like an utter cad. In short Skelsey had proved more implacable than the man presumably most injured.

”No. Return to your duty at once.”

”I'll blow my brains out then, and you'll lose one more man at any rate.”

”Place Corporal Spence under arrest immediately,” said the Major sternly.

”Don't be a fool, Spence,” said Blachland kindly. ”You'd be more hindrance than help to me really--and so would any one except Sybrandt, but we can't take two scouts away at once.”

The commanding officer thought so too, and was in a correspondingly bad humour. But Blachland was far too valuable a man to gainsay in a matter of this kind, besides, he had a knack of getting his way. Now having got it, he lost no time in preparations or farewells. He simply started.

”His contract's too big,” said the American, presently. ”Guess we've nearly seen the last of him.”

”He'll come through, you'll see,” rejoined Sybrandt, confidently.

The while Blachland was riding along the backward track: not quite on it, but rather above, where possible; scanning every point with lynx-eyed vigilance. Once a glimpse of something lying across the track caused his pulses to beat quicker. Cautiously he rode down to it. Only an old sack dropped during the march. The spoor of the patrol was plain enough, but he remembered that the missing man suffered from fever, and had been slightly wounded during the earlier stages of the campaign.

The possibilities were all that he had been overtaken with sudden faintness and had collapsed, unperceived by the rest--in which case a lonely and desolate end here in the wilds, even if the more merciful a.s.segai of the savage did not cut short his lingerings. And he himself had been too near such an end, deserted and alone, not to know the horror of it.

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