Part 60 (1/2)
A rattling crash as every rifle is emptied, and then with a wild cheer the men, revolver in hand, are riding at a gallop upon the kraal; but first and foremost throughout is their undaunted leader. And the Kafirs, their ranks already sadly thinned out, unable to withstand the onslaught of this mad charge, turn and fly for dear life.
”Hurrah! At them, boys!” yells Jim, discharging his revolver at the foremost of two stalwart Gcalekas, who have sprung like lightning out of the very ground, as it were. The savage, however, dives to avoid the shot, which hits one of his fellow-countrymen fair in the back, and, gathering himself like a panther, leaps at his a.s.sailant, a.s.segai in hand, aiming a furious stab at his side--but too late. The impetus of his pace carries Jim past, and the Kafir, missing his blow and his footing, falls forward on his face, to be trampled into a lifeless pulp beneath the hoofs of the horses, as the whole troop pours through the village, pistolling the fleeing or opposing enemy, and the ground is strewn with human forms, dead and dying.
And now the fight has become a stampede and a rout. Shut in on three sides by the hors.e.m.e.n bearing down upon them, the fleeing Kafirs run like bucks along the river bank, to make good their escape ere yon dark cloud of advancing Fingoes, sweeping steadily down to cut them off, shall get in front of them. Can they do this, they may yet hope to count up their scattered remnant in the welcome shelter of that dark forest line a few miles off. At any rate, they will cut their way through the Fingo dogs, and many a fierce warrior, grinding his teeth as he grips his a.s.segai, starts off with renewed vigour, to pour out the heart's blood of at any rate one of his despised foes before he dies.
Suddenly the flight stops, and with a rallying cry a body of the Kafirs make a stand. They are beyond the reach of the sh.e.l.ls, and by this time the rout has scattered far over the plain; and the nearest Fingoes, who have been slowly overtaking their enemies, waver and hesitate, quailing before their former masters, who throw out at them threats and fierce taunts. The fugitives have nothing but empty guns, which being mostly muzzle-loaders, they have no time to reload. a.s.segais are thrown, and more than one whooping and hitherto exultant Fingo wallows in the dust, transfixed by the deadly javelin. In another minute these cowardly auxiliaries will turn and fly, as the Gcalekas, with clubbed guns and gripping their large stabbing a.s.segais, furiously charge them, uttering their war-cry--when behold, a body of hors.e.m.e.n comes sweeping up, Jim Brathwaite's troop leading, and the tide is turned. The Fingoes, inspired with fresh courage, stand, and sneak behind the whites, waiting for these to disperse the enemy, and then go quietly after them and a.s.segai the wounded lying upon the ground.
”Hallo!” cried Armitage. ”Hold on; Gough's down.”
”Oh, it's nothing, I'm not hurt,” is the plucky reply, as the young fellow leaps clear of his horse, which, stabbed to the heart by a wounded Kafir who lay on the ground, had fallen with a crash.
”Bight you are. Better fall in with the dismounted men,” and away rides the speaker.
Suddenly one of the Kafirs, watching his opportunity, springs like a cat on to the saddle of a trooper, and gripping him round the neck with one arm, stabs him to the heart with the other; then loosing his murderous embrace as he and his victim slide to the earth together, he runs like the wind, casting his glance from side to side in search of another possible victim, when he falls, pierced by a couple of revolver bullets.
Another savage is suddenly descried by Hicks and Armitage, who are riding together, rus.h.i.+ng at a man, who with his bridle over his arm stands coolly awaiting his approach. This man both of them have noticed during the pursuit. Working apparently alone, he has kept himself entirely free from flurry and excitement, reining in every now and then and taking a deliberate shot at long range, almost invariably bringing down one of the foe. And now they watch him, as a great sinewy Kafir rushes at him like a wild beast, now leaping high in the air, now dropping into the gra.s.s, then zig-zagging as if to get round the white man, who stands perfectly calm through it all, with a slightly sneering smile upon his face, but covering this dancing, leaping a.s.sailant with his gun-barrels.
Crack! The savage falls. Then, as suddenly, he picks himself up, and with a wild shout rushes at his cool antagonist.
”He's got him, by G.o.d!” cries Hicks, as in a tension of excitement he marks the artful feint of the barbarian and, as he thinks, the turning of the tables. But the other never moves, nor does the expression of his countenance alter by a single hair's breadth.
Crack! Another report, and the fierce warrior falls, this time stone-dead, leaping nearly against the barrel which at point-blank had sent a full charge of ”loopers” straight through his heart.
”Whoop! Hooray!” yelled Hicks, wild with excitement. ”Grand old shot, that! Thought you were a gone c.o.o.n, by Jove!”
The other quickly slipped a couple of cartridges into the smoking breech of his gun, and looked up with a slight smile at this remark; and what he saw soon changed the smile into an outright laugh. For Hicks was staring at him, speechless and open-mouthed, while even Armitage looked somewhat dumbfoundered.
”The devil!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Hicks, and relapsed into staring again.
”That's uncivil,” remarked the stranger, drily.
”Why, hang it, it is--Claverton, no one else! Arthur, old boy, where on earth _have_ you dropped from? I vow this is the best thing that's happened for years. We thought you must be dead and buried, hearing nothing about you,” and leaping to the ground, honest Hicks wrung his former comrade's hand as if he would crush that remarkably useful member.
Something in the last phrase jarred upon Claverton. Lilian had said much the same thing when they had met.
”Well, here I am at any rate. Turned up again like the proverbial 's.h.i.+se' coin,” he replied. ”How's yourself? Flouris.h.i.+ng apparently.
You look as if 'the holy estate' agreed with you. And Jack? I say, Jack; bet you two to one in anything you like you don't drop that chap scuttling away over there.”
”Done for you!” cried Armitage, sighting his rifle and drawing a bead on one of the retreating enemy, distant some seven hundred yards.
”No. Hand over!” cried Claverton. ”Missed him clean. Give you another shot, though.”
But the other shot was likewise a failure; and the Gcaleka got off scot-free to rejoin, if he listed, the bosom of his family.
”Never mind, Jack. I won't dun you for the stakes, I only wanted to see if you had left off that villainous sporting habit of yours.”
”But, Arthur--how the deuce did you come here?” went on Hicks. ”You're not a Volunteer--those fellows are all jingling with chains and whistles.”
”Yes, I am. Kaffrarian Rangers, full private. And then?”
”And then? Why, you must join us without any further _indaba_. We'll have a high old time of it. Do you mean to say you can cut all your old friends and go and fight among strangers? Bos.h.!.+”