“No, sir,” replied the sergeant, with a broad smile spreading over his manly countenance. “The colonel heard all I had to say in defence, and he just says, ‘Bad job, sergeant—accident.’—You know his short way, sir?—Then, ‘Be off and get your men together; find the poor fellow as soon as you can.’”
Captain Roby was just hurrying to a group of men waiting to make the start, when Sergeant James came up, carrying all the lanterns he could muster in a bunch. “Come, gentlemen,” he said sharply; “make haste, please. Have you plenty of matches, sergeant?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fall in, my lads. Here, stop. No rifles; only your bayonets.”
The firearms were returned to their quarters, and a couple of minutes later the search party were on their way to the kopje.
“Beg pardon, sir,” said the sergeant, suddenly breaking from his place to address the captain; “wouldn’t it be better to take a long rope with us?”
“What for?” said Roby angrily. “For the men to hold on by in case any one should be lost? Absurd!”
The sergeant was returning to his place, and Lennox and Dickenson exchanging glances, when the captain altered his mind.
“Yes,” he said; “on second thoughts, we may as well take a coil. Hurry back and fetch one, sergeant.”
The latter handed his bunch of lanterns to one of the men, and went off back to quarters at the double, while the party marched on.