"The Lord and the Holy Virgin may send the bullets to kill you, unless it's from the Boers who is guided by the Father of Lies; but it's small thanks in return they will be asking.Take the benefits of Providence with a shout of thanksgiving; but swallow hard and keep a stiff upper lip, when it smacks you over the head with a shillalegh." Then, of a sudden, he bent over in the saddle once more and rested his hand on Weldon's fingers which lay on the broncho's neck."And, if I mistake not, little one, it is what you have been doing, these late days, so forgive me teaching you a lesson you've already learned by heart."Two nights before this, Carew's letter to Alice had ended with the outcry,--"For God's sake, how long is this going to last?"And now the end was almost in sight.Early the next day, there had come a call for remounts for a column halted on the veldt near Reitz, and Weldon, with a score of others from his squadron, had been sent out with the mounts to join the column for the trek to the southward.As a matter of course, Weldon had asked that the score might include Paddy and Carew; and now, with them at his side, he was at the head of the column which trailed away far towards the southward, twelve hundred poorly mounted men riding in leisurely fashion towards Harrismith and the chance of rounding up an occasional Boer.
Dusk of the second day had brought the hills on the sky-line close to their eyes, and had sharpened the ragged peaks into threatening crests of bare, black rock.Already the hills were but three miles distant, and the hour for halt almost at hand, when scouts came flying back to the column, breathless with haste and with the consciousness of tidings to impart.The colonel received the tidings with outward calm.
"A laager of fifteen hundred Boers? And a mile and a half to the south of us? We must attack." His eyes swept the faces of his men.
"Trooper Weldon?"
At the word, Weldon rode forward and saluted.
"That highest hill is the key to the position.It is the one we must hold.Can you and your men ride around to the west of the laager, get that hill and hold it at all costs until I can send reinforcements to you? The reinforcements will start as soon as you reach the top of the hill.Keep out of sight, while you can.Then rush it.You understand?"Weldon nodded; then, his head erect, his eyes flashing, he saluted for a second time and, with his men at his heels, dashed off into the thickening dusk.
Like foothills beside a mountain range, so the veldt before him was already broken and crumpled into a series of irregular ridges, opening in their midst to form a tiny plain where the Boer laager lay spread out before them.The dusk of the plain was dotted with scattered camp fires; but, beyond the ridges, it lay heavy, and in that heaviness Weldon placed his trust.For two thirds of his whole distance, he could keep below a ridge to the westward of the laager.
The final third lay full in view of the enemy, full up the increasing steepness of the mountain side, where, horses failing, it would be necessary to creep by stealth and upon the hands and knees.
And, where the shelter ended, there lay before them a short defile between walls of naked rock, and the defile was narrow.
Half the way to the defile was already accomplished when Weldon heard, from the crest of the ridge above him, the double crack of a Mauser rifle, and then the sound of scurrying, unshod feet.He shut his teeth, and his chin rose a bit higher."A picket! And now the brute has run in to tell tales," he said shortly."Quick, men, it's a race between us now."Answering to the touch of the spur, the gray broncho went leaping forward, with Paddy's horse neck and neck at her side.From beyond the ridge, the trio of guns could be heard, barking ceaselessly, while their shells dropped thick into the laager, scarcely eight hundred yards away.And now the defile, short, but narrow, was close at hand.
Ka-paw! Ka-paw!
From the mouth of the tiny pass, a rain of bullets swept down upon them.A horse dropped, shot through the knee; another, hit in the neck, bolted, threw its wounded rider and then, mad with pain, hurled itself straight into the ranks of the enemy.A second shot, almost at arm's length, threw it to the earth; but not until it had done its work.The half-broken Boer ponies, fat from much feeding and totally unaccustomed to this species of missile, swerved at its approach and destroyed the aim of the second volley, which was answered by a fire that sent a full quarter of the twoscore Boers sprawling heavily groundward.
A scant ten minutes sufficed for the rest.Five troopers lay helpless on the dusty soil.Five dead Boers blocked the trail at the entrance of the narrow pass.It was a drawn game; but the end was not yet.From beyond the ridge, Weldon could hear the guns still pounding ceaselessly.He knew that, half a mile in the rear, his colonel was watching for him to come to the crest of the hill; that, in a sense, the whole game was waiting upon his moves.Whirling himself about, he gave a short, sharp order.Scarcely a moment later, he was astonished to see the Boers in the pass giving way before the mad rush of his paltry fifteen men.The narrow pass was his own.