Part 12 (1/2)

Chapter Twelve.

Into the Fire.

”What about breakfast? Have you had any?” said Denham.

”No,” I replied; ”but I have some with me;” and taking out a portion of what was left over from the previous afternoon, I proceeded to make up for what was lacking, eating with the better appet.i.te for seeing that Joeboy was busy over one of the big sandwiches provided for him by Aunt Jenny.

This done, I seemed to forget my injuries, and rode on with the little troop, watching the agile way in which Joeboy made his way forward, well in advance and showing no sign of fear.

Mounted men advancing up the rugged pa.s.s had very little chance of keeping themselves concealed. Here and there a bend in the narrow valley helped us; but there was always the knowledge that, if the enemy were in force up by the neck of the pa.s.s, they had plenty of niches among the mountains on either side to which they could climb and watch us till well within range of their rifles, when shot after shot and puff after puff of white smoke would appear, with very different effect, I felt, from those fired in the darkness of the past night's scare.

All this was very suggestive of danger; but somehow I did not feel alarmed. There was too much excitement in the business, and I was flushed with a feeling of triumph at being so soon in a position to retaliate upon the people who had used me so ill.

I rode on, then, for some distance behind my officer, as I now began to consider him, till the valley opened out, and he reined up a little to allow me to come alongside, so that he could question me about the track higher up. I told him all I could, and endeavoured to impress upon him that it would be a very bad position for his men if the Boers sighted them.

”You would find the ground so bad and enc.u.mbered with rough stones,” I said, ”that it would be impossible to gallop back.”

”But we don't want to gallop back,” he said, with a laugh. ”That's all capital about the bad road, and sounds sensible as a warning; but you must not talk about galloping back. If the enemy does show we shall dismount and use our rifles, retiring slowly from cover to cover. But you'll soon know our ways in the Light Horse.”

”I hope so,” I said; ”but of course I am no soldier yet, and very ignorant.”

”Not of the use of your rifle, Val, my lad,” he said. ”I used to envy you.”

”Oh, nonsense!” I said. ”Of course I could shoot a bit. My father began to teach me very early.”

”I don't believe I can shoot so well now as you did two years ago, when we went up the country. I don't know what you can do now. Why, Val, I expect you'll soon prove yourself to be a better soldier than any of us, for our drill is precious rough; but we are improving every day.”

”You have been farther up than this?” I said, to change the conversation, which was making me, a lad accustomed only to our solitary farm-life, feel awkward and uncomfortable, with a suspicion that my companion was bantering me.

”No,” he replied; ”only about a hundred yards farther than where we met this morning.”

”Then you'll find the riding worse than you expect.”

”Well, it will be practice,” he said. ”But I say, how that n.i.g.g.e.r of yours scuffles along! He's leaving us quite behind.”

”He is sure-footed and accustomed to the rocks,” I said as I watched Joeboy, who was getting higher and higher up the precipice to our left, as well as higher up the pa.s.s. ”He wants to get up to where he can look over the Boers' position.”

”He had better mind,” said Denham. ”You ought to have taken away those bits of vanity before he went into action.”

”What bits of vanity?” I said.

”Those white ostrich-feathers. They make him stand out so clear to a shooter. Ah! he's down.”

Just then Joeboy was seen to drop forward right out of sight.

”No,” I said; ”that was one of his jumps;” and I spoke confidently, for I had often seen him make goat-like leaps when we had been out shooting among the hills.

”You're wrong,” said my companion confidently. ”Poor fellow! let's get level with the place where he tumbled. I'm sure that was a fall.”

”Wait a few minutes,” I said, ”and you'll see him perhaps a hundred yards farther on.”