With Rifle and Bayonet: A Story of the Boer War

Accordingly they went to Drury Lane, and thoroughly enjoyed the piece and the wonders of modern stage scenery.

On the following day they went to various other places, and in the evening looked up an old friend of the doctor’s, a barrister, who lived near Victoria Station.

“Look here, Jackson,” said Dr Hanly as soon as he had introduced his young friend, “I am on the look-out for rooms for this lad. He is to go to a crammer’s and work up for the army. The next examination takes place in about six months, and, if possible, I want to get him into some comfortable place where he will not be too much alone.”

“Why not try this house, then?” answered Mr Jackson. “I have been here for five years now, and have found it comfortable and reasonable. The people who run the place are most respectable, in fact they are gentlefolks who have been compelled to let rooms owing to reduced circumstances. I have two rooms, and so have Clarke and another man. I know there are two more vacant ones, for Franklin left for India last week. We generally breakfast and dine with the Eltons (the people who let the rooms), and we usually lunch outside.”

“What do you say, Jack?” asked the doctor. “You are the one chiefly concerned.”

“It seems to be just the very thing, Doctor,” Jack answered. “It is close to the address of the crammer, and therefore suitable in that way. Could we look at the rooms now, and come to a decision?”

Accordingly the vacant accommodation was inspected, and at once engaged. A week later Jack had quite settled down, the doctor had returned home, and work at the crammer’s had begun.

Jack enjoyed the life. The allowance which he was entitled to draw was a comfortable one, which enabled him to meet all his current expenses and still find something in his pocket with which to pay for amusements. His work usually kept him engaged from ten in the morning till four in the afternoon, and every night except Saturday and Sunday he did a couple of hours’ reading.

Between tea-time and dinner-time he generally went for a long walk, as to a boy of his habits constant exercise was essential. Sometimes he would make his way along the Embankment and on past Chelsea, for the river always had an attraction for him; while at other times he would go in the opposite direction.

One Saturday evening, just after dark, he was slowly returning towards Victoria, when a shrill whistle suddenly sounded in front of him, followed by a loud shout. Rain was pouring down at the time, so that the streets were practically deserted, while on the Embankment there was not a soul about.

Again the shrill whistle sounded, followed by a shout, this time less loud and decidedly muffled.

Jack’s suspicions were at once aroused, and, dropping his umbrella, he took to his heels and ran along the pavement. A few yards farther on scuffling and the sound of heavy blows reached his ears, while, almost at the same moment, a flickering gas lamp cast a feeble light across the damp pavement, showing the base of Cleopatra’s Needle, close to which was a group of struggling figures.

A minute later Jack had reached the spot, to find that four roughs had set upon two well-dressed gentlemen, one a man of some forty years of age, while the younger was no older than himself.

As Jack reached them the latter was leaning half-stunned against the stonework, where he had been knocked by a staggering blow, while at his feet rolled a police whistle with which he had made a brave attempt to call assistance.

The older gentleman stood with his back to the lamppost, and as Jack reached his side knocked one of the ruffians flat on his back on the pavement.

Jack made up his mind instantly as to what he ought to do. Without stopping he dashed up to the feet of the younger man, picked up the whistle, and next moment was at the side of the older man. Then he placed the whistle to his lips and blew with all his might.

“Come on! What are yer standing there for?” exclaimed one of the ruffians, turning fiercely on his companions, who had drawn away as Jack arrived upon the scene. “He ain’t a peeler! He’s only some clerk as don’t know when to keep himself to himself. Now, let’s do for ’em all, and clear away with the swag!”

A second later Jack was forced to drop his whistle and defend himself, for the three roughs rushed at them. The gentleman sent one of them reeling back with a tremendous blow on the chest, and was instantly engaged with the second; while the leader of the gang, a burly, brutal-looking fellow, singled Jack out and struck at his head with both fists in quick succession.

To attempt to guard was hopeless. It would have required a far stronger young fellow than Jack to break the blows. But he escaped by ducking rapidly, rising the next moment to strike fiercely at the man, and then throw himself upon him and drag him to the ground.

They fell heavily, the jar shaking the breath out of their bodies, and causing a sudden pain to shoot through Jack’s thigh. But though his left leg was now useless to him, he stuck to his man in spite of the excruciating pain it caused him, and, shifting his grasp for a moment, threw his arms round his antagonist and pinned him to the ground.

A few seconds passed, and just as his strength was giving way, and the ruffian was on the point of wrenching himself free, a policeman’s helmet appeared above them, a powerful hand grasped his opponent’s neck, and the man was dragged away.

What happened afterwards was a complete blank to Jack.

Chapter Three.

Off To Africa

When Jack came to his senses again he was astonished to find himself tucked up in a cosy bed, with clean white sheets and a red counterpane. It was placed in the centre of a row of beds which were precisely similar, and which ran down one side of a large and comfortable-looking ward, on the opposite side of which there was a fire burning brightly, and a table round which sat three neatly-dressed nurses.

Jack slowly ran his eyes round the ward, noted that most of the other beds had occupants, and that the three nurses looked decidedly pretty in their white caps and aprons. And all the while he wondered mildly what it all meant, why he was there, and what sort of a place it was. Then, like others who have been seriously ill for a considerable time and are almost too weak to move a hand, he closed his eyes again and fell into a deep sleep.

When he awoke he lay quite still, with closed eyelids, listening to voices near his bedside.

“He’ll do well now, Nurse,” he heard someone say, “and I am glad to be able to tell you that the worst is over. It was a difficult job to get the thigh in satisfactory position, and nicely put upon the splint. But it’s done, and done well, I think I may say. Your young friend will make steady progress now, sir,” the voice continued, “and from what I have learnt I am sure you will be very pleased to hear it. Good-day! I must be going now, as I have several other patients to look to.”

“Good-day!” was repeated heartily by someone else, and then the owner of the first voice moved away.

“I am delighted to hear the doctor’s report,” somebody else exclaimed, in tones which were unmistakably those of Dr Hanly. “He has met with a very nasty accident, and it takes quite a load from my mind to hear he is doing well. By all accounts he must have increased the severity of the injury by sticking to that fellow as he did. He’s a plucky lad.”

“Plucky, my dear sir! I should think so indeed!” answered a third voice. “Why, I owe a lot to your young ward. There was really no call for him to come to our help; but he did so without hesitation, with the result that he got badly smashed, while Wilfred and I were merely a little bruised and knocked about.”

“I’m glad to hear you say so, Mr Hunter,” was the doctor’s reply. “It is just like the lad to get into a mess in an attempt to help others who were in a tight corner. But we had better be moving away, I think, or we may disturb him.”

“Don’t go, Doctor,” Jack feebly murmured at this moment, opening his eyes and looking up at his friend. “Tell me how I came to be here, and all about it. It’s awfully rummy! I cannot understand why I should be lying in bed, when only a minute ago I was well and strong and walking along the Embankment.”

“Why, good gracious me! that was a week ago, Jack! This is a hospital in London, and you are in bed because your thigh is broken. But you must get to sleep. Mr Hunter and I will come again to-morrow.”

Jack obediently closed his eyes, wondered in a dreamy kind of way who Mr Hunter might be, and who was the plucky lad he had been talking about, and promptly fell asleep.

When he became conscious again a nurse was bending over him, and, feeling stronger and more lively, he was propped up in bed as far as his splint would allow, and given a cup of tea. From that day he rapidly improved. The pain, which had been severe at first after he had recovered consciousness, had now entirely gone, and about three weeks after his accident his bed was lifted on to a long wheeled chair, and he was able to get about the ward and chat with the other patients.

Almost daily Mr Hunter and his son Wilfred came to see Jack, and very soon the two lads, who were within a few days of the same age, had become fast friends.

“By Jove!” Wilfred exclaimed one day as he was sitting by Jack’s side, “it was touch and go for us when those four blackguards attacked us, and you were a perfect brick to come up in time to lend us a helping hand.”

“Oh, humbug! What else could I have done?” answered Jack. “I heard your whistle and shouts, and guessed there was a row on. I couldn’t stand still, could I? so of course I came along to see what was up. Then, when I found it was an uneven fight, I tacked myself on to the side which wanted me most.”

“It’s all very well your talking like that, Jack, but you know as well as I do that you might just as well have run in the opposite direction, especially when you saw what brutes the men were who were attacking us. But we’ll say no more about it just now. I’ll get even with you though, old chap, if I can manage it, one of these fine days.”

“Then that’s agreed,” answered Jack; “but before you drop the subject, tell me what the row was really about. I suppose those fellows were after your money!”

“Money! Yes, but in a different form from that in which you usually see it. You know, Father runs a big store out in Johannesburg, and deals in everything. You can get anything, from a bag of peas or a tin tack to Kimberley diamonds of the first water, from his shop, and it’s the last that those ruffians were after. But here is Father. Ask him, and he will tell you all about it.”

“Well, Jack, getting along nicely, are you?” exclaimed the latter heartily. “And you want to know how it was we were attacked by those ruffians? It’s very simple. I have come over from South Africa for a holiday, and to see the old home. My wife and Wilfred came too, and during our stay here I have managed to combine business and pleasure. I brought over some diamonds, and on the day you came so opportunely to our aid I had been to a stone merchant in the city, and was returning with all those he had not bought from me; I should say some fifteen thousand pounds’ worth. It would have been a good haul if they had managed to get away with the bag. No doubt they knew all about me, and had tracked me all the way from the hotel. But they made a little mistake. You see in my younger days I had to rough it pretty well, and of recent years, while living in the Transvaal, life has not been altogether smooth. Every Boer’s hand there is against the Englishman, Uitlanders as they call us, and so one has to be particularly wary.

“Immediately I caught sight of those rascals I guessed their game, but I can tell you, my lad, it would have been all U P if it hadn’t been for you and the whistle. Well, we came out of it pretty comfortably, save for your fractured thigh, and as soon as you are fit to go out those fellows will be tried and, I trust, will get heavily sentenced.

“By the way, my boy, have you thought about the future? You know it will be at least three months before that leg of yours is really strong again; at least that is what the surgeon says.”

“No, I haven’t given it a thought, Mr Hunter. I suppose I shall go home to the Grange for a month or so, and then return to the crammer’s. Not that that would be much good, for I cannot possibly go up for the next exam. I haven’t done nearly enough reading, and should certainly get ploughed if I attempted it.”

“Why not come out to Africa with us?” said Mr Hunter earnestly. “We go as soon as those ruffians are tried, and we should be good companions on the way. Besides, it would be a splendid ‘pick-me-up’ for you; you would get the air on the voyage, and still be able to keep your leg in splints, or whatever is found necessary.”

“Mr Hunter, it’s awfully kind of you, and I should enjoy it immensely!” Jack suddenly blurted out, and then stopped abruptly as the thought of the expense entailed flashed across his mind.

“Then it’s settled,” exclaimed Mr Hunter. “I thought you’d jump at the idea. I’ve spoken to Dr Hanly about it, and he and your mother are quite willing for you to go. It will be the best thing you could possibly do under the circumstances, and besides, you may find that the experience will be of real service to you later on; for if you join the army it is more than probable that you will find yourself out in Africa with your regiment before many years are gone. I expect we shall sail in about a month’s time. It will be another four weeks before we reach Johnny’s Burg, as we call it, and then you can stay with us just as long as you please.”

Jack was delighted at the prospect before him, and made up his mind to get his leg sound again as quickly as possible. Save for a trip on the Continent with his father he had never left the shores of old England, and now the knowledge that in a short time he would be on board a huge ocean-going vessel bound for Africa, the land of gold and diamonds, Zulus, ostriches, and lions, filled him with the highest spirits, and served, to no small extent, to relieve the tedium of his long stay in hospital.

A month afterwards he was staying with the Hunters at a fine hotel near Piccadilly, and a week later had been able to give evidence at the Old Bailey – where he was complimented for his pluck by the judge, – and had seen the four ruffians who had attempted to obtain possession of the bag of diamonds condemned to heavy sentences.

In a fortnight they had set sail from Southampton, and were well in the Channel. It was a lovely summer’s day, and Jack enjoyed the change immensely. Reclining in a long cane chair, propped up with cushions and wrapped in a rug, he was a subject of interest to the passengers, and before many days had passed was on the best of terms with all. Indeed, had he but known it, he was thought a deal of by them, for Mr Hunter and Wilfred had not failed, when they joined the gentlemen in the smoking-room, to tell how his leg became damaged; while Mrs Hunter confided it to the ladies after dinner in the drawing-room.

Day by day Jack’s leg grew stronger and more firmly knit, and very soon, when the sea was quite smooth, he was able to hobble about the deck with the help of a crutch. Before the voyage was over he had discarded the plaster splint with which his thigh had been encased, and by the time the big ship steamed into Table Bay and whistled for the authorities to come off and give instructions as to where it was to berth, he had become quite an ordinary individual once more, and there was nothing noticeable about this strong, broad-shouldered young Englishman save the fact that he walked with a slight limp. It was a glorious morning when Mr and Mrs Hunter and the two boys landed, and as they were not to take the train for Johannesburg till the following day, Wilfred was able to escort Jack round the town and out into the country.

Jack enjoyed it all immensely. The streets were much the same as in London, and in many respects it reminded him of home. But the people walking about were different; Englishmen were certainly in evidence, but there was a good sprinkling of other nationalities, French, German, Kafir, and especially Dutch.

The country outside, however, was very different. The vegetation, of a semi-tropical nature, was more luxuriant and green, while the scorching sun overhead, and the dusty roads underfoot, which reflected the dazzling rays, were a complete change from what he had known in this country.

Still, in spite of the glaring sun there was no doubt of the picturesqueness of Cape Town, backed as it was by its green slopes and fields, and frowned over by the sharply-cut summit of Table Mountain.

Two days later the party arrived in Johannesburg, tired and weary after their long railway journey.

“Now, Jack, you must do just as you like while you are here,” said Mr Hunter a few days after they had reached this modern city in which the Uitlander population of the Transvaal had, for the most part, taken up its residence. “Of course you will want to see Pretoria, and get a peep at his honour, dear old Kruger, whom we Englishmen love so much. Then, perhaps, you would like to accompany me to Kimberley. I go there about twice a month, and though it is a dusty, uninteresting sort of place at first sight, yet I think I can promise to open your eyes when I show you the mines. You have heard of them, of course, and are aware that they are valued at millions of pounds. On our way there, or on our return, we could take a peep at Bloemfontein, the capital of the Orange Free State, where President Steyn has his residence. It will be all new to you, and, I dare say, sufficiently interesting.”

“Thank you very much, Mr Hunter!” Jack replied. “I am already awfully interested, and should certainly like to see all there is in the country. I wonder whether you would object to my helping sometimes in the store. I am quite strong enough for that now, and I should very much like to learn how you manage matters, and particularly how your books are kept. I am sorry to say I am a terribly poor hand at accounts. Mine never came out right at the end of the month in London.”

“Mind! Of course not, Jack! I am glad to think you would care to do it. Place yourself in Wilfred’s hands. He knows all about it, and will show you how the business is carried on. Who knows? One of these days you may find shopkeeping more congenial than army life. Out here there are lots of young fellows who come from the best of houses in the old country, and yet are not ashamed to pull off their coats and put their shoulders to the wheel. Why, one man of my acquaintance, who is in a very prosperous way of business just now, in spite of the exorbitant taxation with which we have to put up, owns to a title in England, and when he was there would have no more thought of turning out in the streets of London without the time-honoured tail-coat and topper than he would have thought of flying. And here he is now, not too proud to make his living by honest means, simply because he happened to be born a lord. And there are lots more like him too. Dear me, what a shock their parents would have if they could see them now, working behind their counters with sleeves rolled up, and selling groceries or ironware as if they had been at it all their lives!”

On the following day Jack took the train for Pretoria, and had the good fortune to catch a glimpse of Paul Kruger, President of the Transvaal Republic, as he drove by in his carriage.

“Father says he’s the deepest and cleverest schemer that ever was!” exclaimed Wilfred, nodding after the carriage, “and from all one hears there can be little doubt about it. They say, too, that he is a religious man, and is something like the Puritans of old. Whatever he is, however, he is certainly one of our bitterest enemies. He simply loathes the sight of an Englishman, and won’t speak our language. He forgets all we have done for him, for I can tell you, there would have been no Kruger and no Boers in the Transvaal if it hadn’t been for our country.”

“He’s a funny-looking fellow at any rate,” answered Jack; “and why in the name of all that’s rummy he should want to wear a topper in this outlandish place is more than I can guess. If I met him at home I should take him for some dissenting minister, a trifle hard-up and out-at-elbow.”

“Hard-up!” exclaimed Wilfred in disgust. “Don’t make that mistake, Jack. Paul Kruger is no pauper. He is certainly one of the wealthiest of the Boers.”

And this was exactly the case. President Kruger was a man who had for many years not only managed the affairs of this particular country, but had also contrived to look well after his own. It was only a glimpse that Jack caught of him, but it was quite sufficient to impress the features on his mind.

Paul Kruger was a heavily-built man, arrayed in black from head to foot, which shone as all threadbare and worn-out clothing does. On his head was a fairly presentable top hat, and in his fat, ungainly hands he held a pair of black kid gloves.

But his face was the part which riveted one’s attention.

In anyone else’s case but the president’s it would have passed without comment, especially amongst a gathering of typical Boers. But, holding the position he did, one looked a second time, and noticed the wrinkled, jowly cheeks, fringed with a belt of straggly hair; the heavy, sleepy-looking eyes, overhung by bushy brows, and the general appearance of obtuseness.

And yet it was this man who, for the sake of a boundless ambition, was destined to defy the might of England, ay, and stagger it with his blows; and he it was, this sheepish-looking Boer, who for years and years had been secretly dreaming and planning – planning to oust the Britishers from their fair colonies, and claim for himself the proud position and title of President – perhaps King – of the United States of Africa.

Shortly after his return from Pretoria, Jack settled down to life in Johannesburg, and soon found himself quite one of the Uitlanders. His leg was now practically strong again, though he had not yet got rid of the limp. Still, for all that, he was able to get about, and even enjoy a game of cricket.

Soon, too, he became accustomed to life in the store conducted by Mr Hunter, and made it a regular custom to help wherever he could during the morning hours. It was really a large shop, with several departments, and with a big storehouse behind. The main entrance was quite an imposing one, and a common place for friends to meet, while just inside was a large office in which the books were kept.

Jack was often here, and did not take long to master the intricacies of book-keeping, so much so that he soon became of real help to Mr Hunter.

In the afternoon he played cricket or drove out with Wilfred, and in the evening he and his friend frequently sauntered into the town, and played billiards at a large restaurant which was a popular rendezvous. Here he met numbers of Englishmen, and in addition several Boers, some of whom he learnt to like. But the younger men were for the most part odious, and gave themselves such airs that the Uitlanders held aloof from them.

Now it happened that Jack and Wilfred frequently played with two other young fellows, one of whom was a delicate lad about Jack’s age, who had come to Africa for the sake of his health. His name was Mathews, and Jack took a great fancy to him. He was quiet and dignified, seldom spoke unless asked a question, and was as inoffensive and harmless a being as anyone could have wished to meet.

But this very mildness was to be the cause of trouble, as Jack was soon to learn.

Amongst the young Boers who visited the restaurant was one tall young man of about twenty-five, who made himself more objectionable than any of the others. He was bumptious to a degree, and openly expressed his hatred of all Englishmen. Even in the billiard saloon his sneers were loudly uttered, so that Jack itched to thrash him on several occasions. But Wilfred dissuaded him.

“Be careful, Jack,” he exclaimed earnestly, one evening, when the Boer had been more than usually hostile. “Don’t take any notice of the brute, or it will lead you into trouble. I know him well, and so does Father, and I can tell you that Piet Maartens, as he calls himself, is a scoundrel, and a most dangerous man to have anything to do with. He is thickly in with the Kruger gang, and if all is true that has been said of him, he has a reputation that would hang a man in England. I have no wish to blacken his character. I merely tell the truth when I say that he has treated more than one of the Kaffirs on his father’s farm so brutally as to cause death. Keep clear of him, Jack!”