Chapter Seventeen.
A Record Ride.
“Halt!” cried the leader, after they had ridden about a couple of miles at full speed.
The company at once pulled in their well-trained horses and stood stock-still. They had quitted the track, and were now just behind the crest of a kopje, so that their pursuers could not be seen.
“There, lads, change your prison togs for these more befitting rigs-out, and eat some of that tucker while we settle off a few of these accursed Kruger whelps. We have a ride before us which will beat Turpin’s ride to York—for distance, at least—before we can next draw rein.”
His men had dismounted while he was speaking to our heroes, and ran back to the kopje’s crest. They were now resting on their stomachs and taking aim at the approaching Boers.
As he spoke he pointed to a bundle which was fastened to each of their saddles.
“Get into these as fast as you can slip, and put inside you what you find in the centre of each swag. We must be off again within the next five minutes.”
Saying these words rapidly, he left them and the horses, and ran up to join his companions.
Our heroes were out of their saddles, and had the bundles unrolled before he had run half a dozen feet. By the time he had taken his place on the kopje-top, they had got the riding pants and boots on, and were buttoning up. In half a moment more they were bracing on their waist-belts and bandoliers, etc., ready for the journey.
Then they opened the saddle-bags and commenced devouring some biltong and biscuit, washing this down with modest sips of cold tea which they found in their water-bottles. Their teeth were sharp and their appetites keen with long fasting, therefore they made the welcome viands disappear as rapidly as they had dressed.
Meantime those on the mound-top were busy. The Boers had galloped up with somewhat rash confidence, thinking that they had unarmed men to cope with. Those in hiding reserved their fire until the Boers were within a hundred yards. Then they fired unanimously, and emptied six saddles.
There were only seven burghers left, and they drew rein in sudden consternation.
Bang! went the second volley, and only one warder was left upright. Without waiting for his quietus, he wheeled about with the utmost promptitude, and raced back to the tronk as fast as his horse could carry him.
They let him go, satisfied with the slaughter they had committed, and, rising, they ran back to their horses and mounted in hot haste.
“It is saddle and spurs now, boys, until we get over the border. This morning’s work will raise the Transvaal. Forward!”
No more was said, but at their utmost speed they set off, and dashed over the country as if doing a race.
Mile after mile they sped without slackening rein for an instant. The moon went down by the west, and the stars grew dim. When the day broke they were at least twenty miles from Nylstroom, and in the midst of a wild and lonely scrub.
They had reached a fording-place on one of the tributaries of the Limpopo river, and were approaching a native kraal.
Here they saw a crowd of natives, and with them four horsemen, with a number of spare horses.
“You see we have made preparations for you youngsters; at every twenty miles we have relays waiting right on to Palla station. There we shall find a sufficient force to back us up if there is any fighting to be done.”
The natives, who, although under Boer control, hated them furiously, had beer and roasted meat ready for the new-comers. Galloping up, they flung themselves off their exhausted beasts and rapidly transferred their saddles and bridles to the fresh horses. The fagged steeds were turned out to grass.
Five minutes only they stayed at this kraal, and while devouring their meat and drink standing, they told the men who had been waiting about their last encounter.
“We must get through before the news can spread, and avoid, if possible, any more encounters; so here goes to beat the record.”
Together they all dashed on at the same speed as before. That morning our heroes had their first glimpse of some of the wild game of Africa. They saw in the distance a herd of quagga, and shortly afterwards sighted some giraffes fleeting away much more rapidly than they were doing.
It was a beautiful and varied country they were passing so rapidly through. But they were too deeply engrossed in the effort to get out of it to pay much attention to what they might otherwise have noted.
In another couple of hours they were joined by a fresh company of four, and again mounted.
By midday they had dashed across the border-line, having covered over a hundred and thirty miles in less than nine hours.
It was the longest and fastest ride at one stretch which Ned and his chums had ever taken, and by this time they were almost bent double with fatigue.
But they were safe from Kruger and his myrmidons. Clear out of the country, to which they vowed only to return with those who would terminate this vile oppression miscalled a republic.
It was their last stage. A few more miles, and they would be at the Palla Road railway stations, where they could wait for the up-train to Bulawayo.
They slackened pace now that they were so near the end of their desperate race. As they cantered along, they took out the remainder of their provender and emptied their water-bags; then, considerably refreshed, they began to converse.
There had been no leisure to see much of each other during this record ride.
Of the country our heroes could recall a flashing panorama of mountains, kopjes, and veldt. They had passed through the half-cleared portions of dark kloof, where tall trees were shooting above dense undergrowth. They had skirted mealie-fields and Kaffir kraals. They had crossed half-dried streams, with tangles of reeds lining the banks. They had startled quaggas, gnus, giraffes, and other tempting-looking game, and forced them to use their limbs over the wolds as the horses rushed along.
They had seen snakes spring aside from their horses’ hoofs, and natives who cheered them on their course with friendly cries; all through that line the Kaffirs knew who they were, and why they were speeding so swiftly from the country of the Boers. These natives, who waved their arms like signal-posts, were scouts who would have warned them had there been danger in front. They had seen with instantaneous glances all that they wanted to see, and were fortunately saved from the sight of their deadly enemies.
But, until now, our heroes had hardly looked at the men who were risking their lives to help them over the border. Now, however, that they were outside Kruger’s jurisdiction, they ventured to examine their brave rescuers.
Twenty-six men, fully armed, rode beside them. They were all tall and stalwart fellows, with the exception of the leader, who appeared short beside these six-footers. They were also all bearded like middle-aged Boers, and costumed like burghers when on field-duty.
Dust-covered as they were, and swarthy with sunburn, it was difficult to gauge their years. Judging from their faces and beards, they might have been any age from forty to fifty-five.
From their movements, however, and figures, they ought to have been much younger men.
“Well, boys,” said the leader, “you have had a bad time of it lately; but I think your Transvaal troubles are about over—for the present, at least.”
He had kindly brown eyes, and an open fearless look about him that greatly took with our heroes. Also, in spite of his late exertions, he did not appear to be the least bit fatigued.
“Thanks to you, sir, and these gentlemen, we have achieved what would have been impossible otherwise,” answered Ned.
“Yes; I own that Kruger’s country is not easy to get out of, when the owners want to keep you. One thing this ride has done, I fear—closed a good road in or out for any future trekker. By Jove! there will be a nice kick-up over this affair, and no mistake. You’ll have to make yourselves scarce for a while.”
“But surely we are quite safe in Rhodesia?” asked Ned.
“Well, that remains to be seen. Kruger will make a mountain out of this ant-hill. Cables will be sent to the Home Government, demanding their prisoners to be arrested and returned to them, and large indemnities for the potted burghers.”
“And what will the British Government do?”
“Sacrifice you, without a pause, to pacify the old man of Pretoria, and us also, if we can be traced.”
“Then we have got you into a bad fix, I fear,” said Ned, regretfully.
“Oh, don’t concern yourselves about us; we are ready with our alibis,” answered the leader, with a merry laugh. “These gentlemen have been on the sick list in Bulawayo hospital for the past three weeks, while I have been looking after the health of my friend and chief, Cecil Rhodes.”
“I say, Jim,” said one of the others, “do you consider it safe for us to take the up-train to Bulawayo?”
“Perfectly safe. There will be a special waiting for us at Palla, and we will hang on till after sundown before we board her. A wire up to headquarters will prepare them for our arrival, then you boys can sneak back to your nurses, while we make our way to Salisbury. We shall have to disguise you for that journey, but my friends will be done with their beards by that time, so one of these each will do for you.”
At last our heroes understood what had been puzzling them as peculiar about their rescuers. They had disguised themselves for this expedition.
Who could the leader be, who was at that time supposed to be looking after the health of the great empire-maker? They looked at him again more closely, and then light broke upon them.
Dr Jameson, of course! The hero next to Rhodes most worth following and worshipping in Africa.
He saw from their expressions that they had recognised him.
“Yes, boys; I am Dr Jim. But no one outside this company must know it. Your friend Philip Martin wrote to me the fix you were in, so we thought we might as well have a little outing and help you away. Now we must finish our task and make you disappear altogether from the ken of man. That, however, we can discuss with our chief when we see him.”
Words failed our heroes; they could only gaze at this dauntless paladin with speechless admiration.
After a time Clarence ventured to ask about his father.
“Oh, he is all right! He was advised to clear out as soon as you were sentenced, as he could be of more use to you outside the Transvaal than in it. He has sold his property and transferred his shares in the mine, and moved his banking account to Cape Town. He is there also, and stands the expenses of this so far successful private raid. By the way, he writes to tell us you wish to do a little exploring.”
“Yes,” replied Ned; “that was our intention when we left England, but I don’t know how we can do it now.”
“It will be the very best thing you can possibly do, while the hue-and-cry is out for you. I think we shall be able to fix that for you at Salisbury. Meantime, as we are within three miles from Palla station, and it will not be dark for a couple more hours yet, we had better take a stretch here and breathe our horses.”
They dismounted, and while their horses were left to feed as best they could on the veldt, they flung themselves down to have a much-needed rest. Pipes were filled and lighted, then most of them lay on their backs and smoked enjoyably while they looked at the deep blue space overhead.
No one spoke, they were too tired for that; possibly each one had plenty to think about as they lay there.
They had accomplished their purpose and wiped out a few of the general enemy. They had also taken time by the forelock, and had not much fear of being stopped on the railway, no matter what telegraphic messages were sent on before them. Kruger had his spies in Rhodesia as he had elsewhere, but these agents were known, and could be kept back by those who were working this affair.
Dr Jim had the most to think about, for after Bulawayo was reached he had a long distance to ride before he could drop his disguise and feel safe. Our heroes also would run most risks.
But they had a fearless and keen-brained man to guide them and think for them; they felt they had not much to fear.
The sky was rapidly changing from deep orange to ruddy violet when Dr Jim roused himself, and said—
“I say, Lawson, you had better ride in advance, and get things ready for us. We’ll be after you in half an hour.”
One of the Boer-like men rose lazily and walked over to his horse; then mounting, he cantered easily off into the dusk.
Half an hour later, the ebon sky was clustered with stars; then the company got up and resumed their journey.
When they reached Palla they found the station clear of all except the railway officials, and the engine ready for starting.
Their horses were put into a couple of boxes behind them. Together they entered the comfortable saloon, where a good supper was waiting for them. While they were enjoying this, the train was running along smoothly at about forty miles per hour, and all their troubles over for the present. They made no stops, but glided on smoothly through the night.
When they woke the train was slackening speed, and the bright morning sun once more lit up the level veldt and glistened on the zinc roofs of Bulawayo.
They had arrived at the present termination of the Chartered Company’s latest and most gigantic enterprise.