Part 32 (1/2)

”No, no; not till I've seen to the men, my lad,” he replied peevishly as he turned away, only, however, to turn back.

”Yes,” he said, with a smile; ”thanks, lad. First aid, and-here! Water, some one. Ugh! I feel sick as a dog.”

I caught hold of him and saved him from falling by lowering him down upon a stone, just as there was the soft pad, pad of naked feet behind me, and a familiar voice said:

”Water, Boss. Here water, sah!”

”Joeboy!” I whispered as I turned and caught a waterbottle from an extended black hand. ”You here!”

”Um? Yes, Boss Val. Couldn't run no more, and come away back.”

I handed the water to the Colonel, who drank with avidity; then I tightly bound up the cut on his leg, for he impatiently refused to have it examined by one of the officers who had hurried up; and then, as soon as I was at liberty, I turned to the black.

”Have you seen the Lieutenant, Joeboy?” I said excitedly.

”Um? Boss Denham!” he replied. ”No; all a rush and gallop. Lost Boss Denham. Lost Boss Val. Lost ebberybody. Joeboy said, 'All come back to water. Boss Denham come soon.'”

”I pray to Heaven he may!” I said sadly; but I had my doubts.

Chapter Twenty Two.

Making the Best of it.

That was a terrible night which followed. We had plenty of water; but our sc.r.a.ps of food were sadly inadequate for the wants of the men, who, many of them wounded, were sick and despondent, and dropped down here and there to fall asleep as soon as their injuries were roughly dressed. Meanwhile the walls were as strongly manned as could be contrived under the circ.u.mstances; and the weary horses were now watered and given the last handful of grain in the bags, after which they stood snuffing about among the stones, every now and then uttering an impatient neigh-Sandho as bad as any of them, though he had fared better, for I had given him half my biscuits and a piece of bread-cake.

By nightfall the entrance had been strongly fortified with a ma.s.sive wall of stones, a narrow side-opening being left, large enough to admit any straggler who might manage to reach our camp; and then all but the sentries, after a last look at the Boers' fires in the distance, lay down anywhere to sleep; but pain and weariness kept me as wakeful as a group of officers, among whose voices I was glad to hear that of Sergeant Briggs, who spoke the most cheerily of them all.

”If you'll not mind, gentlemen,” he said, ”I should like to say that our position isn't so bad as you think.”

”Why, it couldn't be worse,” said the Major.

”Begging your pardon, sir, yes,” said Sergeant Briggs. ”We've plenty of water, and our marksmen can keep the Boers at a distance as long as you like. They won't face our rifles.”

”But the horses, man!”

”They can be taken out to graze, sir, covered by our rifle-fire. There's a good patch of green out yonder.”

”But we can't go and graze,” said another officer.

”No, sir; but we shall be hungry enough by to-morrow night to be ready for a raid on the Boers' provision wagons. There'll be plenty, and we must cut one out, fasten a dozen reins to it, and bring it up here.”

”Humph! We might try,” said the Major.

”And we will,” said one of our captains. ”Why, we might capture some of their ammunition too,” he added.

”Yes, sir. They've got pack-mules with their small-arms ammunition; and with a bit of scheming and a night surprise it might be done,” said the Sergeant. ”And there's another thing I had my eyes on to-day.”