The Lust of Hate by Guy Newell Boothby (digital book reader txt) 📕

from the South.”

“There’s something in that,” said Mr. Maybourne, reflectively.

“And now I am going to ask you the most important question of all,

gentlemen. That is, what’s to be done? If we abandon this place, the

mine and the buildings will be wrecked for certain. At the best we

can only reach the township, where we can certainly go into laager,

but in my opinion we shall be even worse off there than we are here.

What do you say?”

There could not be any doubt about the matter in my opinion. In

the township we should certainly be able to make up a larger force,

but our defences could not be made so perfect, while to abandon the

mine was an act for which none of us were prepared.

“Very well then,” continued Mr. Maybourne, when he had heard that

we agreed with him, “in that case the best thing we can do is to form

a laager here, and prepare to hold out until the troops that I have

been told are on their way up can rescue us. How are we off for arms

and ammunition, Wrexford?”

“I will show you,” I said, and forthwith led the way through the

office into a smaller room at the back. Here I pointed to an arm-rack

in which twenty-two Winchester repeating rifles, a couple of

Martini-Henris, and about thirty cutlasses were arranged.

“How may men capable of firing a decent shot can we muster?” asked

Mr. Maybourne, when he had overhauled the weapons.

“Nineteen white men, including ourselves, and about half-a-dozen

natives.”

“And how much ammunition have we?”

“I can tell you in a moment,” I answered, taking up a book from

the table and consulting it. “Here it is. Two thousand cartridges for

the repeating rifles, two hundred for the Martinis, and a thousand

for the six revolvers I have in this drawer.”

“A good supply, and I congratulate you on it. Now let us get to

work. Ring the bell, Mr. Mackinnon, and call all the hands up to the

house. I’ll talk to them, and when I’ve explained our position, we’ll

get to work on the laager.”

Ten minutes later every man had been informed of his danger, and

was taking his share of work upon the barricades. Waggons, cases,

sacks of flour, sheets of iron—everything, in fact, which would be

likely to give shelter to ourselves and resistance to the enemy was

pressed into our service, while all that would be likely to afford

cover to the enemy for a hundred yards or so round the house was

destroyed. Every tank that could be utilized was carried to the house

and filled with water. The cattle were driven in, and when small

earthworks had been thrown up and the stores had been stacked in a

safe place, we felt we might consider ourselves prepared for a siege.

By nightfall we were ready and waiting for the appearance of our foe.

Sentries were posted, and in order that the township might be

apprised of its danger and also that the troops who were hourly

expected, as Mr. Maybourne had informed us, might know of our peril,

a man was despatched on a fast horse with a letter to the

inhabitants.

Having accompanied Mr. Maybourne round the square, and assured

myself that our defences were as perfect as the limited means at our

disposal would permit, our store of arms was brought from the office

and the distribution commenced. A Winchester repeating rifle and a

hundred cartridges, a cutlass, and a revolver, were issued to each

white man, and after they were supplied the native boys were called

up. To our astonishment and momentary dismay only one put in an

appearance. The rest had decamped, doubtless considering discretion

the better part of valour. When, however, we saw the stuff of which

they were made this did not trouble us very much.

As soon as every man had received his weapons, and had had his

post and his duties pointed out to him, Mr. Maybourne and I left them

to their own devices, and went up to the house. The former had told

his daughter of our danger, and for this reason I was prepared to

find her, if not terrified, at least showing some alarm. But to my

amazement I discovered her hard at work preparing a meal for the

garrison, just as calmly and quietly as if nothing out of the common

were occuring. She greeted me with a smile, showed me her puddings

boiling on the fire, and pointed to a number of buckets which stood

about the verandah. These were filled with some peculiar-looking

fluid; and I enquired what it might be. In answer I was told that it

was oatmeal and water.

“If we are to fight,” said this daughter of war, “you will find it

thirsty work. I shall put these buckets, with mugs, at convenient

places, so that you may assuage your thirst if occasion serves.”

I noticed also that she had prepared a large quantity of lint in

case it should be required, and had arranged a number of mattresses

in the verandah. Her courage put fresh heart into me, as without

doubt it did into everyone else who saw her. I told her that she was

braver than the boldest man amongst us, and she thereupon showed that

she still had sufficient of the woman left in her to blush with

pleasure at the compliment.

“If the enemy were only forty miles away at midday,” said Mr.

Maybourne as we carried the men’s tea out into the open to them,

“they ought to be close at hand now. When we’ve done our meal we’ll

post extra sentries; for though I do not for a moment expect they’ll

attack us in the dark, it would never do to allow ourselves to be

surprised.”

I agreed with him; and, accordingly, as soon as our tea was

finished, men were placed not only at the four corners of the laager,

but at equal distances between them. The remainder lay down to rest

wherever they could make themselves most comfortable. I found myself

about the only exception to the rule; and, do what I would, I could

not sleep. Having tried for an hour and a half, and found it still

impossible, I went across to the verandah and sat down in one of the

cane chairs there. I had not been there many moments before I was

joined by Agnes, who seated herself beside me. I reproved her for not

resting after her labours of the day.

“I could not sleep,” she answered. “Brave as you call me, I am far

too nervous to rest. Do you really think the enemy will attack us in

the morning?”

“Not knowing their plans, I cannot say,” I replied, “but I must

confess it looks terribly like it.”

“In that case I want you to promise me something, Gilbert.”

“What is it?” I asked. “You know there is nothing I would not do

for you, Agnes. What am I to promise?”

“That if we are overpowered you will not let me fall into their

hands alive. You may think me a coward, but I dread that more than

any thought of death.”

“Hush! You must not talk like that. Have no fear, we will not let

you fall into their bands. You know that there is not a man upon the

mine who would not give his life for you.”

She leaned a little forward and looked into my face. “I know you

would protect me, would you not?”

“Wait and see. The man who touches you, Agnes, will have to do it

over my dead body. Do you know that tonight, for some reason or

other, I feel more superstitious than I have ever done before. I

can’t rid myself of the thought that I am near the one vital crisis

of my life.”

“What do you mean, Gilbert? You frighten me.”

“I cannot tell you what I mean, for I don’t know myself. I think

I’m what the Scotch call ‘fey’”

“I have prayed to God for you,” she said. “He who has

protected us before will do so again. Let us do our duty and leave

the rest to Hun.”

“Amen to that,” I answered solemnly; and then with a whispered

“good-night” she got up and went into the house again.

Hour after hour I sat on in the verandah, as much unable to

sleep as I had been at the beginning. At intervals I made a circuit

of the sentries, and convinced myself that no man was sleeping at his

post, but for the greater part of the time I sat staring at the

winking stars. Though I searched the open space outside the laager

over and over again, not a sign of the enemy could I discover. If

they were there, they must have been keeping wonderfully quiet. The

sighing of the breeze in the long veldt grass was the only sound that

I could distinguish.

I heard the clock in the house behind me strike one, two, and then

three. By the time the last hour sounded, it was beginning to grow

light. From where I sat in the verandah, I could just discern the

shadowy outline of the waggons, and distinguish the figures of the

sentries as they paced to and fro at their posts.

Thinking it was time to be astir, I rose from my chair and went

into the house to help Agnes by lighting the fire for her, and

putting the kettles on to boil.

I had just laid the sticks, and was about to set a match to them,

when a shot rang out on the northern side of the laager. It was

immediately followed by another from the south. I waited to hear no

more, but snatched up my rifle from the table and ran out into the

open. Before I had crossed the verandah, shots were being fired in

all directions, and on reaching my post, I discovered a ‘black crowd

advancing at a run towards us.

“Steady men, steady,” I heard Mr. Maybourne shout as he took up

his station. “Don’t lose your heads whatever you do. Keep under

cover, and don’t fire till you’re certain your shot will tell.”

The words were hardly out of his mouth before the enemy were upon

us, brandishing their assegais and shields, and yelling in a manner

that would have chilled the blood of the oldest veteran. It was the

first time I had ever fired a shot at my fellow man, and for the

moment I will confess to feeling afraid. However, that soon passed,

and I found myself taking aim, and firing as coolly as the best of

them. Though I was hardly conscious that I had pulled the trigger, I

saw the man directly in front of me—a fine, tall fellow with a

nodding head-dress of feathers—suddenly throw up his arms and fall

forward on his face, tearing at the ground with his hands in his

death agony. But I was not able to do more than glance at him before

two others were upon me. This time I fired with more deliberation

than before, with the result that both went down, one after the

other, like ninepins. Then for what seemed a year, but must in

reality have been about three minutes, I continued to fire,

depressing the finger lever between each shot and tipping out the

empty cartridge with automatic regularity. In front of my defences a

ghastly pile of bodies was fast accumulating, and by craning my neck

to right and left, I could discern similar heaps before the shelters