With Rifle and Bayonet: A Story of the Boer War

“By Jove, if we only possessed a few more rifles,” exclaimed Wilfred impetuously, “we would go out and bring in that gun. But it’s impossible as things are, and I expect we shall have something else to think of shortly.”

But, contrary to their expectations, nothing occurred, on shells flew overhead, and the Boers seemed to have disappeared from sight Jack climbed up on to the table and mounted on the chair. Then he searched all round with his glasses, and made out a number of men riding off in the distance towards Kimberley. He climbed up the iron sheets on to the top, and looked out behind. Here, too, all seemed deserted, but the sight of a half-hidden figure behind one of the low houses a mile away told him that they were still watched by the enemy.

“They’ve left us alone for a little,” he said, “but there are men all round us. The guns have gone, and I expect our friends have ridden back for reinforcements. You may be certain, though, that they have left sufficient behind to make it impossible for us to approach that Maxim. Well, I suppose we have nothing to do but wait. To-night, if we can last out so long, the garrison in Kimberley will make a sortie, but I think we are too far out for them to reach us.”

“That is so, Jack,” Frank Russel said. “We cannot expect direct help from them, but by making a sortie they will draw away some of these fellows who are watching us.”

“Then I vote we make a bolt for it!” Wilfred cried excitedly. “It will be our only chance, and if we don’t take advantage of it we shall never get any.”

“Yes, we must make a rush,” Jack agreed, “and by striking out here at the back, and away round to the left, we ought to manage it. To go straight ahead to meet a sortie party would mean that we should be surrounded.”

“You’re right, lad, perfectly right!” Frank Russel cried. “We’re playing a move with men who are as slim as slim can be, and to get away we must beat them at their own game. Put yourself in their shoes for a moment. It is just what any ordinary set of fellows would do if they were in a close fix like this. They’d rush towards the comrades who were coming out to help them. Our friends the Boers will expect us to do that, and we’ll disappoint them.”

“Then it is agreed we make a rush,” said Jack. “Let us have a look at the ponies.”

Going into the kitchen, they found that Prince and one of the Boer ponies alone remained alive, Vic and the others having been struck down by the shell.

Jack stepped up to the body of the little animal which had proved a true friend to him, and patted her gently on the neck. Then he climbed on to the table again and out on to the roof.

For three hours nothing happened, and then a large force of Boers appeared, and having reached their old position, out of range of the defenders’ rifles, they pulled up and put two big guns in position.

For an hour they poured a perfect torrent of shell at the house, smashing it to pieces and bringing that part over the cellar down with a crash upon the ground.

But though it was sufficiently terrifying to Jack and his friends below, it did not damp their ardour. Carefully popping up their heads, they ascertained that there were yet many posts in which they could kneel and fire and still not be exposed to the enemy. And if the worst were to happen, the cellar itself would form a last site for defence, from which they could hope to keep the Boers away for a considerable time.

It was now getting dark, and after a short pause, probably to fetch up more ammunition and cool the guns, the bombardment again commenced, one of the shells setting fire to the wreckage above the bomb-proof chamber. In an instant big tongues of flame burst forth, and a dense volume of choking smoke eddied into the cellar.

The sight filled the Boers with pleasure, as a faint cheer showed, and almost immediately afterwards they started forward, in open order, and rushed for the house.

“Out with the fire!” Jack cried sharply. “Those fellows cannot reach us for some minutes yet. Quick! Pass up those buckets to me!”

Standing on the top rung of the ladder, with the smoke blowing in his face and almost smothering him, he stretched down his hands, grasped the buckets passed up to him, and dashed the contents over the blazing timber. Two were sufficient, and in a minute the fire was subdued, and he had kicked out the surviving embers with his feet.

Then all four took the best places they could find, and, waiting till the Boers were close enough to make their aim fairly certain, opened fire upon them. But the dusk was already almost turning into night, and, undeterred by the bullets, the enemy was rapidly closing in upon them. Things looked very black, and common sense would have suggested an honourable surrender. But the excitement of the struggle had taken fast hold of Jack and his friends, and their blood was thoroughly roused. They had defended the house for many hours, and now, just at the moment when help and rescue were expected, they were not going to give up the unequal struggle till the very last moment had arrived. Even Eileen was firmly determined upon this point. Encouraged by the resolute pluck of her father and these two young Englishmen, she seemed to have forgotten her sex for the time being, and now, crouched behind a tumbled portion of the iron roof, her rifle spoke out repeatedly and truly, and sent many a Boer to his last account, or limping from the field.

But the impossible could not be expected. In spite of a gallant defence, the host of Boers were now close at hand, and a hail of bullets was directed at the house and at the four spitting points of flame which showed where the muzzles of the rifles were hidden.

“It’s all up, lads,” shouted Frank Russel. “Shall I shout to them to cease their fire?”

“Wait, what is that?” Eileen cried, clutching her father by the arm. “Guns in the distance, Father, and rifle fire. It is the sortie!”

Pausing for a moment, the defenders crouched behind their shelter and listened eagerly and with beating hearts. Shouts and volley-firing reached their ears, together with the well-known rattle of a Maxim, and almost instantly the Boers who were attacking them called anxiously to one another, and, leaping to their feet, rushed in the direction of the sounds at their fastest pace.

“Thank God, lads!” exclaimed Frank Russel earnestly. “It was a close shave, but He saw us safely through it.”

“Amen!” muttered Jack and Wilfred in husky voices, while Eileen threw herself in her father’s arms and embraced him affectionately.

“There’s no time to be lost,” Jack cried out hurriedly. “Wilfred, give me a hand with the ponies. Frank, you take Eileen outside and wait in front.”

Hastening to the kitchen, they searched about for the ponies, but found to their grief and disappointment that all had been killed.

“Well, it cannot be helped,” said Jack. “Come along, Wilfred. Let us get out of this.”

Picking their way across the tumbled beams and roof, they were soon out in the garden, and, waiting for a moment to make sure that no one was about, they hurried off across the veldt, leaving the sounds of the conflict on their right. It was an adventurous escape, and more than once they were on the point of discovery. But they had the fortune to pass by the few Boers who were still hurrying up to help their comrades, and two hours later they approached a huge bank of débris and earth which had been removed from the mines, and which formed one of the outlying positions of the garrison.

“Halt, who goes there!” was shouted. Then the dazzling beams of a search-light played upon their faces, and the same voice cried out in delighted tones, “Hooray, boys, it’s our friends right enough!”

Such a welcome the soldiers gave them. On every side they pressed forward to shake them by the hand, till the officer in charge of the works advanced and rescued them from the enthusiastic “Tommies.”

“We’re awfully glad to see you safe in our lines,” he exclaimed heartily. “Come into my tent and have some tea. We thought you would probably strike over for this spot, and so I had everything prepared. When you’ve had some refreshment I’ll pass you on to the commanding-officer. He has got quarters ready for you.”

Jack thanked the officer for his thoughtful kindness, and all four having partaken of a much-needed cup of tea, they prepared to walk across to the centre of the town. On their arrival there, the electric light was once more switched upon them, and every man who could be spared, and was not on duty, turned out to look at the four strangers who had so gallantly kept the Boers at bay and taught them such a lesson. When it was seen that one of them was only a girl, and that she carried a rifle, hearty cheers burst forth, and the enemy outside, when they heard them, ground their teeth and muttered things beneath their breath. Nor were their tempers improved when, on the following day, a bearer was sent out with a note describing exactly how many of the English had been hidden in the cellar of the farmhouse.

The commanding officer, the world-famous Cecil Rhodes, who had so pluckily stayed behind to take a part in the siege, and a score of officers of the garrison, all stepped forward and shook them by the hand. Tom Salter, too, was there, as well as Tim, and as soon as the excitement had abated the former led them away to quarters which had been allotted to them.

“Now, Jack,” he said, sitting down on an empty case, “light up and give me the yarn. Things here are very old and stale, and a little news is always welcome. Pass along that bottle, Frank, and make yourselves comfortable all of you.”

When Jack had given him the incidents of the attack upon the house, Tom’s face was a study, and the absolute amazement and wonder depicted upon it set the others in a roar.

“Well, I’m blowed!” he stuttered hoarsely. “Who’d have thought it! It just makes a fellow proud to be an Englishman. Jack, I knew all along that you were a plucky young beggar, but this beats all! Your friend, too, has got some grit about him, and so has Frank; but the girl – well, I never did hear of such downright bravery;” and Tom passed his fingers through his hair and gulped down a pannikin of rum and water with a distracted air which seemed to say that the news had been altogether too much for him.

Chapter Eleven.

Tracked by the Enemy

It was in the last few days of October, when the hot season and the rains of South Africa were about to set in, that Jack Somerton and his friends at length found safety in the beleaguered town of Kimberley, after their stubborn and protracted fight in the farmhouse of the Russels. By this time the war had been many days in progress, for President Kruger’s ultimatum was despatched on October 9th, and hostilities had commenced on the afternoon of the 11th by an invasion of British territory.

We have seen that to meet that invasion and to stem the flow of the jubilant Boers there were only some 20,000 English regulars in South Africa at the time; and to these the feat of rolling back the overwhelming forces of the burghers in Natal, the protection of our northern towns in Cape Colony, and the garrisoning of Mafeking and Kimberley was a practical impossibility. Yet, with the dogged pluck and determination for which their predecessors had ever been known, that small army had done wonders already.

By October 6th, when war seemed so inevitable, 10,000 additional troops were ordered to be despatched forthwith to South Africa; and since the case was an urgent one, the regiments in India, which are always kept on a war footing, were mainly drawn upon.

But to transport men, guns, horses, and ammunition from India to Africa, or across the 6000 miles of heaving water which intervene between England and Cape Colony, is no small matter. Indeed it is a gigantic undertaking. Transports have to be chartered and specially prepared; food, forage for the horses, arms, medicines, tents, clothing, and a thousand-and-one more items, all of great importance, have to be conveyed, and cannot be prepared in a minute. But in spite of all difficulties the 10,000 troops were soon afloat and en route for the scene of the war.

Contrast for a moment these almost insurmountable difficulties with those of the Boer nation with whom we were contending. For them the only items which called for special transport were guns and ammunition. For the burghers a train journey of some twenty hours, or a long march on horseback of, at the most, 200 miles, brought them to the borders, and all need, for the time being, of a commissariat train was obviated by the fact that each and every man carried on his own person, or attached to his saddle, sufficient ammunition and food to last him several days.

But the fact that the Orange Free State had thrown in its lot with the Transvaal Republic called for bigger forces, and on October 7th, the day following the order for the above 10,000 troops, the Home Government gave instructions for the calling up of 25,000 of our Reserves, and the mobilisation of an army corps and of one cavalry division. Parliament was also summoned specially to meet on October 17th.

Ten days were given for the Reserves to present themselves, and these ten days may be easily described as a time of intense anxiety to the nation.

The old days of lifelong service in the army had disappeared, and now young men who joined the ranks did so for a few years only, after which they were in a condition of thorough military training, and were at liberty to go back to civil life as reserves. In this capacity they were paid a certain sum per diem for a limited number of years, and were liable during that time to be called back to don the queen’s uniform and carry a rifle should their country have need of their services. It was an experiment, and one for which England will never have cause to blame herself.

The revival of the Boer trouble, the memory of Amajuba and Laing’s Nek, together with the fact that this present war was forced upon us against our wishes, sent a thrill of patriotic fervour through the length and breadth of the land.

Almost 100 per cent of the Reserves answered the call, and the few absentees were for the most part at sea in merchant vessels. Nor was this all. When England found herself face to face with a gigantic struggle, that generosity for which all her people have been noted was shown on every hand. If the manhood of the country could respond so nobly to the call to arms, then they should be rewarded for it, and those who were left behind would make it their duty to care for the helpless wife and child.

Everywhere employers showed their patriotic spirit by declaring that those of their servants who left for the war should find their places waiting for them when they returned. And not only that, a large proportion at once arranged to pay half wages to the wife or dependants of the reservist, thus lifting a load of anxious care from the brave fellows’ minds.

Thousands of pounds were subscribed for the maintenance of the homeless refugees from Johannesburg and other places, and later on large funds were raised, so that the widows and orphans of all the gallant men of the army or navy who gave their lives for their country might never know what it was to want. Money privately subscribed provided hospital ships and beds, and in this manner our American cousins showed their friendship, for they equipped and despatched The Maine for the treatment of our wounded.

To even mention each and every one of the incidents which showed the fervid patriotism of the people, and their intense loyalty to and love for their beloved queen, would be impossible.

But no description of our preparations for this war is complete without a reference to the splendid patriotism of our colonies and of our home volunteers. Unasked, they clamoured loudly to participate in the struggle, and while for the time being our own citizen soldiers were not accepted, contingents of splendid men were welcomed from Canada, Australia, and New Zealand.

Thus it will be seen that England prepared for war, a war which it was confidently expected would be of short duration. An army corps was mobilised, and those who, by family ties or by reason of their civil duties, were compelled to stay at home, saw to their particular part of the patriotic work.

And then, when all was ready, they first of all despatched Sir Redvers Buller, one of our finest veterans, to take command of the accumulating army in South Africa, and afterwards, for many days in succession, accompanied the soldiers in shouting, cheering thousands to Waterloo Station, and sent them off on the first stage of their long journey with many a “God-speed!” and with hoarse cheers which showed how truly their good wishes went with them.

And who amongst us who formed one of that crowd did not feel a strange rising in the throat and an inability to say exactly all we wished to those who were leaving England – perhaps for the last time? We longed to join the gallant fellows, and when we saw one of them turn aside for the moment, just to brush away the tears that would come, and get his lips steady again ere he bade a long farewell to his weeping wife and, most likely, to the infant in her arms, our hearts prompted us to step forward and wring his hand, just to show him that we thought all the more of him for his feeling.

Those were stirring scones indeed, and that great lady and the country for whom all our gallant troops were about to sail over the sea will never, never forget them. What happened to those brave men and officers we despatched will be described in due course. The surprising strength of the enemy, their careful and long-thought-out preparations, and their modern and overpowering armaments will be spoken of, as will the painful events which led to England’s awakening. For the present we shall leave her with the eyes of all her people at home and in the colonies turned hopefully and anxiously to that far-off field of battle, while we return to Jack Somerton and his friends in Kimberley.

On the morning after their safe arrival in the town, Tom Salter took Wilfred and Jack to the conning-tower erected in the De Beers compound and pointed out the various points in the defences. It was a remarkable scene. In all directions were huge mounds of débris removed from the diamond mines, and these, with the help of ample native labour, had been converted into fortresses, while outside all was an entanglement of barbed wire completely surrounding the town. From their elevated position they could look down on every post, and to Jack, who had been in the town many times before, and indeed to anyone, it was most strange to see the townsmen and regulars manning the defences or scouting outside, while down below them 10,000 natives laboured in the huge compound, delving for the diamonds which after all might fall into the Boers hands.

“Just shows what we think of those fellows,” laughed Tom Salter, jerking his thumb in the direction of the Boer laagers. “They have been round us since the 14th of this month, and they’ve done nothing but look on all the time. If we were in their places I expect we should just make one big rush to take the town; but your Boer hates that kind of work, and so is content to look on while guns are coming from Pretoria. Then, I expect, they will make us jump a little.”

“How many men have you here?” asked Jack.

“About 3000 all told,” answered Tom. “We are under the command of Colonel Kekewich, and Cecil Rhodes is here to keep us company. A good number of our force are colonial troopers and volunteers, but we have the 1st Battalion of the Loyal North Lancashire Regiment here, besides a few gunners and engineers. I can tell you, my boy, we shall be a pretty tough lot to conquer. Why, only a few days ago we made a sortie towards Macfarlane’s Farm in the north, and bagged a number of the Boers, including Commandant Botha. We had 3 killed and 21 wounded – not a great loss when you consider the work we did. It was grand fun, and I’ve no doubt, now that Cronje has given Mafeking up as hopeless and come down here, we shall give them another taste. Now tell me all the outside news. How did you get across to Johnny’s Burg, and what have you been doing since? Last night you spoke of Glencoe and Ladysmith. ’Pon my word, Jack, you are just like the proverbial bad penny. You seem to turn up all over the place.”

Jack laughed heartily at Tom Salter’s remark, and then proceeded to tell him about his adventures since leaving Kimberley. Then Tom in turn told him all that had happened during his absence.

It seemed that Kimberley was by no means unprepared. Both Government and the De Beers Company had poured supplies and arms into the town, and there was sufficient to last for many weeks. The water-supply had been cut off, but there was plenty to be obtained in the town, and there was therefore no fear on that point. Altogether the inhabitants were faring better than might have been expected. All food was to be had at standard prices, and they were protected by a force which, if not too ample, at any rate made up for their lack of numbers by a dauntless determination to hold the town.

No one was allowed to leave the neighbourhood of the defences or to enter the town without a signed permit, and this was strongly adhered to, for, as in Mafeking, and indeed in our camps in any part of South Africa, spies swarmed everywhere.

But if the garrison were determined to hold the town, they were equally prepared to make the time pass easily. Mr Cecil Rhodes, the administrator of Rhodesia and at once a brilliantly clever and most popular man, dispensed hospitality on every side. He gave dinners and dances to enliven the people, and at one of them, which occurred on the night after their arrival, Jack was present with the Russels, and waltzed with Eileen to the strains of inspiriting music. Then they slipped out, and, climbing on a mound near by, stared across the veldt at the Boer laagers and then back at the defences of Kimberley, all easily distinguishable under the rays of a glorious moon.

“How lovely it all looks in this light!” said Eileen gently. “What a pity that there should be such a thing as war! But I can see it is necessary, for if the English troops did not fight they would be driven out of the country, and then none of us would be safe. I am sorry about the old home too. I loved it and the flower-garden; but it was far better to defend it as we did than give in to the Boers. Jack, do you know I have never really thanked you for all you did, and for saving me from that brutal man. Only last night Father said that we owed our lives to you. I am proud of you, Jack! Shake hands!”

Jack was astonished. He stuttered, grew confused, and then dropped Eileen’s hand as though it were a hot coal, for he was a bashful lad, and in a terrible fright all the time that Eileen would burst into tears or throw herself in his arms in the excitement of the moment.

“Oh, never mind what I did, Eileen!” he blurted out. “I’d have done it for anyone else; and Wilfred deserves your thanks as much as I do. Now let us go in.”

Eileen obeyed, feeling glad that she had at last thanked her preserver. She had met Jack many times, and had come to know that he was a plucky, good-looking young Englishman. That he had taken her thanks so brusquely did not jar her feelings. She understood him, and knew that though he did not show it he was really gratified. Therefore, taking his arm again, she returned to the dancing-room, and five minutes later she was watching her stalwart hero waltzing round, with a light in her dark eyes which, had he seen it, would have set his heart beating. But Jack had other matters to think about, and on the following morning approached Tom Salter on the matter.

“I came up here to act as a despatch-rider,” he said, “and I want you to help me. I know the country all round as well as anyone, and ought to be able to get through. Whom ought I to apply to?”

“No need to apply to anyone,” answered Tom. “I saw one of the officers last night, and told him all about you. News came in three days ago from the south, and you also brought information when you came. What we want to know is how Mafeking is getting on, and I expect you will be asked to ride in that direction. It will be ticklish work, my boy, but it seems to me that you are specially suited for it, for you have already ridden more than once in the enemy’s country. Come with me now to head-quarters and I will send in your name.”