Charge! A Story of Briton and Boer

by George Manville Fenn

I was about to oppose this part of his plan, but upon second thoughts I did not, but selected a better spot for my hiding-place by creeping among the stones towards where Sandho was grazing, so as to keep him well under my observation for fear he should stray too far, and not be within reach should danger arise. There he was, in a snug nook where the grass grew thickly consequent upon there being suggestions of a trickling spring. The spot was well surrounded, too, by stones, which on three sides fenced him in, and between two of these, and with a larger one to form a support for my back, I settled myself as comfortably as I could, for my leg was still very painful and my arms ached terribly. In fact, I was so weary now the time for action was over that I was quite content to subside, and sit leaning back watching the black while he crawled on hands and knees to Sandho, who suddenly raised his head with a start at Joeboy’s approach; but on seeing who it was, he uttered a low whinnying sound and went on cropping the grass once more, paying no further heed to the black, who proceeded to hobble, his two fore-legs to keep him from going too far, and then returned to me.

“No go away now,” whispered Joeboy.

“It wasn’t necessary,” I said. “I shall watch him.”

“Um!” said the black, and then he pointed in the way he intended to go, laid the shield and two throwing-assagais by me, and then went rapidly off on all-fours, trotting like a huge black dog.

I watched till he disappeared among the stones between me and the sentry, and twice I caught sight of him again, or rather, I should say, of his back; but only for a moment or two, and then he was gone, while I let my eyes rest again upon the spot where I had last seen the sentry. Then I watched my horse, and afterwards began to take more note of my surroundings.

It did not take long. There were blocks of stone everywhere in the wildest confusion, and among them here and there great straggling patches of unwholesome-looking, fleshily-lobed prickly-pears with their horrible thorns. Now and then, too, were miserable, dried-up karroo-bushes, starved among the great blocks above the rich green hollow where Sandho grazed. Everywhere else was parched loose red sand, and beyond rose up the sterile mountains on either side of the pass.

Joeboy knew me better than I knew myself when he hobbled the horse, for as I sat there watching and thinking how solitary it all was, wondering how they were getting on at home, and whether the Boers were really in force by the pass, a pleasant feeling of restfulness came over me, and the mountains in the distance seemed to grow hazy and of a delicious blue; the coarse bushes did not look so dry, nor the sickly prickly-pears so unwholesome and like flat oval cakes of horribly unwholesome human flesh joined together at their edges; while the little patch of pasture where Sandho was feeding appeared to be of an indescribably beautiful tinge of green.

“I wonder how long Joeboy will be,” I remember thinking, as I drew my injured ankle across my right knee and began to rub it softly. “He ought to come back soon.”

Then I ceased chafing the ankle, for it was very tender, and I wondered how long it would take to get well again, so that I could leap from stone to stone as sure-footed as ever.

It was a relief to leave it alone, and I let it glide back till it was outstretched upon the sand beyond the stones, where it lay resting, and the pain began to die out. It was restful, too, for my arms; for as soon as I began to put any strain upon the muscles a peculiar gnawing sensation was set up, which was complete torture till I let them lie inert.