Porky departed, returning some few minutes later followed by the other officers of Graeme's army. These proceeded to range themselves in a half circle before their leader, their faces showing varying degrees of interest; for, though to the majority field days had long since lost their charm, there was always a chance of something sensational happening when under their present commander, not to mention the practical certainty of a row between him and Bumps.
Nor were their expectations disappointed to-day, for of the many mad schemes in which, under his leadership, they had previously participated, the one now propounded surpassed them all in sheer lunacy, and their faces grew bright with interest as they listened to the plan laid before them.
"Here's the game, gentlemen," he began, "we've got to get that lot of carts to Tafelberg Farm. Between us and it lies an impassable ridge, only two openings, both held, as you'll see if you look, by infantry and guns. No way through—or so thinks Bumps." Here Graeme paused to allow the impossibility of the task to sink into his hearers' minds; for this was his way, to make out that a thing was impossible and then to show his audience how easy it really was for him. It was a touch of theatrical display in which he, like some other and more distinguished commanders, delighted.
"He's out as usual, though, is Bumps," he continued; "for the convoys are going through all right and will be at the farm in three hours from now. Against me is that most distinguished officer Colonel Wicklow, who, as you know, is a Staff College graduate. Now, at that abode of learning they read books, and those books teach them that the way to defend a ridge is not to spread troops all along it, but to hold the passes strongly, and keep one or two reserves somewhere in rear, ready to come up to the threatened point. That, gentlemen, is what my opponent is now doing, and on his so doing I make my plan.
"Here it is. The cavalry under you, Graves—Porky remains to advise me—will start off and head straight for the western opening. Then, when they begin to shoot, and Wicklow's reserves have started to reinforce that point, as they will, thinking we're going to rush the pass, you'll turn half right and go, hard as God will let you, for the centre of the ridge, that peak there. At its foot you'll dismount, swarm up it, there'll be nothing but a picket on top—the reserve by that time will be a mile away—and having settled them, work along the ridge to the left, and come down on the western opening from above, and knock that lot out too. Then Jehu," pointing to the transport officer, "and I will bring on the carts and run them through and away to Tafelberg Farm. The guns will bang away as soon as the cavalry starts from here, their target the western opening. That's to keep up the delusion of attacking them. Now, you've got it. Get away and be off."
All but Porky saluted and hurried away. "Stand to your horses!" was shouted, and, at the sound, sleeping figures rose up from the ground and busied themselves with bridle and loosened girth. "Mount!" was called once more, followed by "Walk march!" and then suddenly "Halt!" from many voices, and the clattering mass came to a standstill.
"What the devil are they halting for?" said Graeme. "Go and see, Porky, tell them to shove on. Oh Lord, if it ain't that old idiot who's stopped them! Here's Johnson coming too," as Bumps's A.D.C. came hurrying up. "What is it, Johnson?"
"The General's compliments, sir, and Major Kinley's to command the cavalry," was the answer.
Graeme uttered an oath, and consternation was displayed on Porky's face, for here was a bombshell indeed. The latter, as usual, was the first to speak.
"Look here, old chap, I'm not for this at all. Taking on mountains with cavalry! Ain't goats, you know."