"Yes, sir," continued the corporal, "and the Haussa has been muttering while he was coming to. Putting two and two together, so to speak, I fancy he stopped the bullet that grazed our sergeant's ear when we were bringing in the gun."
"Ah, yes; Bela Moshi did fall, but he was quickly on his feet again," remarked Wilmshurst.
"With a bullet that had all but just passed completely through his body," added the Rhodesian. "And after that he acted as a platform—he had a man standing on his shoulders for nearly a quarter of an hour—and only collapsed after the attack had been broken. There's vitality and pluck for you, sir!"
"And if we come out of this business alive I'll see that Bela Moshi's case is reported to the proper quarter," declared Dudley.
"The only thing against him is the want of water," said the corporal. "I'd risk getting plugged for the sake of a couple of bottles of water. How about the well, sir?"
"We're having a shot at it as soon as possible," replied the subaltern, and picking up his water-bottle, he left the hut.
The urgency of the matter decided Dudley. If humanly possible he meant to make the attempt forthwith. A glance at the still smouldering débris told him pretty plainly that it was a dangerous if not impossible undertaking, but for the sake of his Haussa sergeant the subaltern determined to procure the precious fluid.
He sought out his brother, but Rupert was sound asleep. Rupert was the only person he wanted to inform of his projected expedition, but that course was denied him.
With the bottle slung across his shoulder and a native jar—holding about a gallon—in each hand, Dudley leapt into the trench and scaled the parapet before the few men who were in the vicinity were aware of his intention. Then drawing a deep breath, like a diver about to make a plunge, he dashed into the belt of smoke-laden air.
At every pace his boots kicked up showers of white ashes. The heat penetrated the thick soles, it singed his hair and scorched his face and hands. He felt himself wondering why he was such a fool as to try conclusions with a mass of hot embers ... why wasn't he content to wait another two hours or so, when the heat would have greatly decreased. Supposing he lost his bearings in the smoke and couldn't find the well after all?