Chapter 35 | The Net and the Fish | A Dash From Diamond City

The start was made more quickly than either West or Ingleborough had anticipated; in fact, the celerity was wonderful considering that the cavalry brigade was burdened with the great convoy of wagons captured from the Boers.

But there was a keen soldier in command, and one who knew how to be ready for every emergency likely to occur in an enemy’s country.

As the two despatch-riders mounted their ponies, the cavalry regiments were in motion, some taking up ground in advance and on the flanks, while two more, a Lancer and a Dragoon regiment, stood fast ready for action as rear-guard, giving the six-gun battery an opportunity to off-saddle and rest their horses, fresh from a twelve-mile march that morning.

The wagon lines were in perfect order, steadily moving off after two of the big newly-captured guns, freshly manned by picked crews, the other two being reserved for the centre of the train and taking up their position easily enough, drawn as they were by double teams of sturdy ponies which made them far more mobile than would have been the case if trusted to the slow-moving oxen.

“They won’t attempt to use those guns if we are attacked,” said West, as he watched the preparations going on; “our men will be quite ignorant of how to work them.”

“Our men will try if the necessity comes,” said Ingleborough confidently; “and that’s half the battle!”

“Yes,” said West; “but it’s hardly likely that the enemy will attack so well-armed a body of men.”

“They will, though, and do us no end of mischief if they get the chance.”

But the General for the first three days gave the enemy no chance, for he carefully avoided kopjes and broken ground, keeping out a cloud of mounted men scouting in every direction, and camping each night on the banks of some spruit.

In fact, every military precaution was taken on defensive principles, for the captured convoy was too valuable for any risks to be run by attacking one or other of the commandos trying to hem in the brigade.

It was soon found that the Boers were in motion in front, rear, and on both flanks, awaiting an opportunity to swoop down and stampede sheep, cattle, and horses, spread confusion amongst the men, and so open up a chance to re-capture the guns and stores.

But no chances were given, for everything had been arranged, and during seven days’ march West had a fine experience in the manoeuvring of a cavalry brigade. So, in fact, had the enemy, but theirs was at a bitter cost.

Finding that the British force would not attack any of the natural strongholds nor step into any of the traps contrived at river crossings where the perpendicular banks were filled with trench, pit, and shelter, but that the carefully-guarded convoy went on slowly towards safety day after day, the enemy became more daring, changed their tactics, and gathered together for attacks, getting their guns into action ready for their own captured artillery to be halted, and with a few well-directed shots at a tremendously long range to put the carefully planted guns out of action and compel a rapid retreat.

If they surrounded the convoy in their thousands with knots of mounted riflemen, there was a rush, a flying cloud of dust kicked up, and away went half the Horse Artillery battery to one knoll, the other half to another, and before the intention of the General could be grasped the shells were falling fast among those knots, bursting and untying them in an appalling way which littered the dry earth with dead horses and men; while, whenever a bolder dash than usual was made to capture either of the half-batteries, the Boers found that, mobile as they were, the British cavalry could nearly double them in swiftness of evolution, and Lancers and Hussars cut them up and sent them flying in every direction.

Day after day this went on, with the result that the reinforcements the enemy received were pretty well balanced by the constant dribbling away of ambulance wagons loaded with wounded men.

“Isn’t it splendid?” Ingleborough kept on saying. “Why, we could go on journeying like this for months. I like this defensive game! Chess is nothing to it!”

“So do the Boers like a defensive game!”

“Yes,” said Ingleborough, laughing. “Did you hear what one of the Boers taken said to the officer in command of the prisoners’ guard?”

“No. I did not catch it; but I saw our men laughing. What was it?”

“He said our officers did not fight fair, and when our man asked him what he considered was fair fighting, the scoundrel gave him to understand that we ought to attack them when they were well entrenched in a kopje ready to shoot all our men down.”

“Well,” said West, “what did our officer say?”

“Laughed at him, and told him that if they were so very anxious to fire at targets we would arrange butts for them with a series of mantlets and a good supply of the Bisley Running Deer. But that wasn’t the best of it,” said Ingleborough, laughing; “what do you think the fellow said?”

“I don’t know,” said West, who was watching the evolutions of a couple of the Light Horse Volunteer regiments and as many of the Lancers, for, tired of the plodding life of keeping with the tremendous baggage train for a whole week, the two friends had ridden out in advance over a wide open series of rolling downs covered with dry scrubby growth, parched to greyness by the torrid sun.

Ingleborough laughed heartily for a few moments.

“There they go,” he said, pointing to the leading troop of the Hussar regiment as it disappeared over a ridge about a mile in advance. “Let’s make for that wave-like place.”

“Very well,” said West; “I suppose we shall be safe there!”

“Safe enough, of course, for our men have swept it clear! Forward! How the ponies enjoy a gallop! But I didn’t tell you what the miserable ruffian said.”

“No,” cried West, enjoying the motion as much as the ponies. “This is delightful after all that slow walking; but we had better turn back when we have seen what those fellows are about! Now, what did the Boer say?”

“Said he had always heard we were cowards at Majuba; now he knew for himself.”

“The insolent hound!” cried West. “What did our officer say?”

“That it was lucky for the Boer that he was a prisoner, for if he had been free he would have tasted a flogging from the flat of a sabre. But hullo! where are our men?” cried Ingleborough, as they reached the crown of the low ridge and looked down at a strip of open veldt, beyond which was another ridge.

“Gone over there!” said West quietly. “They must have galloped!”

“Shall we follow, and come back with them?” said Ingleborough.

“We may as well,” was the reply; “they must be trying to cut off some of the Boers.”

“Or going in for a charge to scatter them, for we want no more prisoners. Come on, then; I should like to see the charge!”

The ponies seemed to share their desire, for, answering a slight pressure on their flanks, they spread out and went down the slight slope like greyhounds, avoiding as if by instinct the holes and stones with which the veldt was dotted away in front.

“Steady, steady!” cried West. “We don’t want to overdo it!”

“Of course not,” shouted Ingleborough; “but my word, what delicious air, and what a place for a gallop! I should like to see a herd of antelope appear on that ridge to the left. I should be obliged to go after them; we might get one for the officers’ mess.”

“There they are, then!” cried West.

“Where?” said Ingleborough.

“Coming over that continuation of the ridge a mile away to the left. No: mounted men! Ingle, old chap,” cried West excitedly, “they’re the party our men have cut off! They’ve headed them, and they’re trying to escape by this opening!”

“By jingo! No!” cried Ingleborough. “Our men have gone off to the right, I believe, and those Boers have seen us. Noll, old fellow, we’ve come a bit too far. Steady! Right turn! Now off and away, or somebody else will be cut off or shot; perhaps both of us, for we’re in for it once more.”

“Oh no,” said West coolly; “be steady, and we’ll show the Boers how English fellows ride!”

“Yes, but hang it all! It’s showing the beggars how we ride away.”

“Never mind; we must ride for the convoy.”

“But we can’t,” cried Ingleborough savagely; “there’s another party cutting us off.”

“Forward then over the ridge in front! Our fellows must have gone over there.”

“No, I don’t think they did.”

“Then we will,” cried West excitedly; “that must be south and west. Forward for Kimberley; it can’t be far now; and let’s deliver the despatch.”

“Hold hard! Look before you leap!” shouted Ingleborough; and, rising in his stirrups, he gave a hasty glance round, to see Boers here, Boers there, in parties of from six to a dozen, spreading out as they came along at a gallop, forming more and more of a circle, till there was an opening only in one direction—to the south-west—and after grasping this fully he turned to West as he settled himself in his saddle.

“Why, Noll, lad,” he cried, “it’s like the drawing of a seine-net in Cornwall, with us for the shoal of mackerel. They’ve got it nearly round us, and if we don’t start, in another ten minutes we shall be enclosed. It looks fishy, and no mistake!”

“Then come on!” cried West.

“Off with you, but at a gentle gallop. We must nurse our nags, for the obstinate brutes will make it a long chase.”

As he spoke he pressed his pony’s sides, and away they went together at a long easy gallop, their mounts keeping so close together that the riders’ legs nearly touched, and the brave little animals taking stride for stride and needing no guidance, the best management being to give them their heads and perfect freedom to avoid all the obstacles which came in their way in the shape of rock, bush, and the perilous holes burrowed in the soil by the South African representatives of our rabbits.

Once settled down in their saddles, with the opening in the Boer net straight before them, the fugitives had no difficulty in carrying on a conversation, and this ensued in the calmest matter-of-fact way concerning the predicament in which they had landed themselves.

“It’s very awkward, Noll!” said Ingleborough.

“But, to use your favourite argument, it seems all for the best,” replied West. “We can easily reach the open ground yonder before the enemy, and then ride right away.”

“If,” said Ingleborough.

“If they don’t stop when they find us likely to go through the horns of the dilemma they have prepared for us.”

“And lie down and begin shooting?”

“Exactly! Their bullets will go faster than our ponies!”

“Yes, but we shall put them at full speed, and they will find it hard to hit us at a gallop.”

“I hope so!” said Ingleborough. “My word! How they are coming on!”

“Yes; but they will not get within five hundred yards of us!” cried West excitedly.

And so it proved, for as the horns of the partly-finished circle drew nearer, that nearness proved to be nearly a thousand yards from point to point, while half-way between, and with their ponies racing over the ground stretched out like greyhounds, the two despatch-riders dashed through, forcing the enemy to alter their course as they were left behind.

“That’s done it!” cried West joyously. “Now then for Kimberley; it can’t be very far away!”

“Sit close!” cried Ingleborough. “They’ll fire now if they can do so without hitting their friends.”

West glanced back to his right, and saw the truth of his companion’s words, for the next minute the firing was commenced on both sides, the bullets coming over their heads with their peculiar buzzing sound, and the dusty soil being struck up here and there as the fugitives tore along.

“This will put their shooting to the test!” cried West, leaning forward to pat his pony’s neck.

“Yes; it will puzzle the best of them!” replied Ingleborough. “I’m not afraid of their marksmen, but I am of the flukes. However, we’re in for it! Easy now! We’re getting more and more ahead as they close in. There, those behind are obliged to leave off firing for fear of hitting their friends.”

Ingleborough was right, for after another useless shot or two the firing ceased, and it became a chase where success, barring accidents, would rest with the best and freshest horses.

Knowing this, the fugitives eased their ponies all they could after placing a greater distance between them and their pursuers, but keeping a good look-out ahead and to right and left, knowing full well as they did that the appearance of fresh Boers ahead would be fatal to their progress.

Half an hour glided by, during which first one and then the other glanced back, but always with the same result of seeing that some two or three dozen of the enemy were settled down to a steady pursuit.

“How long do you think they will keep this up?” said West at last.

“Well, if they are French mercenaries they’ll give up directly; if they are Germans they’ll stick to our heels for hours; but if they’re all Free Staters or Transvaal Boers they’ll go on till they drop or we do. The stubborn, obstinate mules never know when they are beaten!”

“Then they’re not French adventurers!” said West.

“Nor yet Germans!” said Ingleborough. “No; we’ve got the genuine Boer after us; and it’s going to be a long chase.”

“How far do you think it is to Kimberley?”

“Just as far as it is from Kimberley to here!” replied Ingleborough gruffly.

“Thank you for nothing!” snapped out West. “What’s the good of giving foolish answers?”

“What’s the good of asking foolish questions? Look here, lad, we may as well look the position in the face.”

“Of course.”

“Very well, then; we’ve got a score and a half or so of Boers after us, meaning to take us prisoners or shoot us down.”

“Oh yes, that’s plain enough!”

“Very well! Then as to distance to Kimberley, the General has dodged in and out so to avoid the enemy that, though I know a little about the country, I’m regularly puzzled as to where we are. I think it lies out here, but whether Kimberley is five miles away or a hundred I don’t know. What I do know is that the surest way of getting there is to make right away west for the railway. Once we can hit that—”

“Yes, I see, and if we keep it on our right, riding south, we shall get there.”

“That’s correct, my lad, but recollect this: we left the town invested, and you may depend upon it that the enemy are round it in greater strength than ever, so that how we are to get through their lines when we reach them I don’t know.”

“Neither do I!” said West. “But we did not know how we were to get into Mafeking! Still we did it, and we’re going to do this somehow.”

“Ah, somehow!”

“Look here,” said West, after another glance back at their pursuers: “do you think you could put matters in a blacker light if you were to try?”

“To be frank, old fellow,” said Ingleborough, laughing, “I really don’t think I could!”

“No more do I!”

“But look here: it’s as well always to look the blackest side full in the face. Then you know the worst at once, and can act accordingly. Hooray! One to us!” shouted Ingleborough, glancing back.

“What is it? I see one of the enemy broken down and another pulled up to help him. It’s two to us.”

“There, you see now the good of looking at the worst of it.”

“It’s quite cheering!” cried West.

“Not very, for the rest are making a spurt.”

“Let them!” said West. “Our ponies are full of go. We will not push them unless absolutely obliged.”

“Words of wisdom! A long, steady pace wins. Keep on; we can afford to lose a little ground, for we have been gaining for some time!”