Charge! A Story of Briton and Boer

by George Manville Fenn

It was terrible work, and I had to make a severe call upon my courage before I made the first effort. For it was like this: I was quite exhausted and in a state of semi-stupor, combined with drowsiness. So long as I lay quite still my injuries felt dull and numbed; but at the slightest movement my arms and shoulders gave a burning, fiery pain, while my left leg and ankle shot out pangs almost unbearable.

The effort had to be made, though; and, setting my teeth hard, I called up all my powers of endurance, and after a severe struggle managed to get upon my knees.

The pain now was excruciating; and, realising that my left leg must be badly hurt, I made another effort before I was overcome again, getting upon my feet and reeling towards a big upright mass of granite; but before I had taken half-a-dozen limping steps the whole scene began to glide round me, and I fell heavily, insensible once more.

It is no easy task to rise to one’s feet when lying with arms tightly bound behind the back. Think, then, what it must have been to one suffering as I was—arms swollen and cut into by the leather thong, utterly exhausted, and with one leg rendered completely useless.

Again I passed through that sickening phase of recovery from a swoon; and then it was some time before my senses would act, and I could fully grasp the situation and understand I must once more make that same effort to rise.

I was thoroughly desperate now; and as soon as I fully grasped my position I made another attempt, turning over from my back, where I lay in agony upon my swollen hands and wrists, on to my face. It was impossible to keep it back, and I uttered a low cry, which brought Sandho trotting towards me from where he was making a hearty meal. Then I lay quite still, with the deathly sickness passing off once more, my heart beating heavily all the time and a feeling of thankfulness making me glow; for there, as I lay face downwards, I knew that my helpless and swollen arms and hands were lying on either side, perfectly numb, but free. In that last heavy fall, in trying to reach the stone, the thong must have snapped, the dew-soaked raw leather falling loose; and now I had only to wait till the circulation and sense of feeling returned.

The pain I suffered was still bad enough, but it seemed to be softened by the feeling of joy which pervaded me; and soon after, Sandho having wandered off again to graze, I heard a sound which nerved me to renewed efforts—the peculiar plashing made by a horse wading into a pebbly stream. That was enough. A minute later I was struggling to reach the stone I had fought to gain before; and by its help I got upon my feet, when I saw Sandho some twenty yards away, standing in a depression by the side of a perpendicular mass of rock, down whose side a spring of water gushed and ran off below the rock, to sink out of sight some distance off.

It was hard work, and the pain excessive; but I limped and shuffled along till I was close to the stream, and then sank down again, to lie and drink and drink again of the sweet, pure water, every mouthful giving me renewed energy.

I must have fallen asleep after dragging myself from the pool—a swoon-like sleep, from which I awoke in a confused, muddled state—only gradually grasping my position and realising how long I must have been insensible, for the kopje above me was glowing as if on fire, bathed in the glory which suffused the west. My horse was lying down a dozen yards away, with his head just raised; and in front, forming a charming picture, was a little herd of about a dozen graceful antelopes, some drinking, some standing in the water, and another upon the top of a low flat stone, with head erect and long horns gracefully curving over its back as it kept a lookout for danger; a slight movement upon my part a few moments later making the beautiful animal utter a snort, and then the whole party were off like the wind.

Their rush made Sandho spring to his feet with a neigh of alarm, and then, as I made an effort and rose to a sitting position, he bounded up to me, whinnying with pleasure, and thrust his muzzle over my shoulder.