horses, sir,” interposed Captain Roby, making an effort to turn aside the wrath of their chief.
“Yes, Mr. Roby, I saw that you had some prisoners,” replied the colonel meaningly; “but, excuse me, I had not finished addressing these two gentlemen.”
“I beg pardon, sir.”
“That will do,” said the colonel. “There, I need say no more. Let’s see the prisoners.”
“I don’t think I like fishing as a sport, Drew, old man,” said Dickenson, rubbing his ear, and then wincing with pain. “Come on, and let’s see the inspection of the enemy. But the boss needn’t have been so gruff. We acted as bait, and he has caught fifteen Boers and their horses.”
“And how are we to feed them all now we have got them?” said Lennox, with a quaint smile.
“Oh, that’s what made the old man so waxy!” cried the other. “I see now. Well, let him set them up and have them shot.”
“Of course; according to our merciless custom,” said Lennox sarcastically; and directly after the two friends closed up to where the prisoners were being paraded, their horses, clever, wiry-looking little cobs, being led up behind them by some of the men.
It was almost the first time that the young men had been in such close contact with the sturdy, obstinate enemy they had so long kept at bay, and they stared eagerly at the rough, unshorn, ill-clad, farmer-like fellows, for the most part big-bearded, sun-tanned, and full of vigour, who met their gaze defiantly, but kept on directing uneasy glances at the other officers, more than once looking eagerly at their led horses as if mentally weighing whether by a bold rush they could reach their steeds, spring upon them, and gallop away.
But a glance round showed them the impossibility of such a proceeding, for they were unarmed and surrounded by men with fixed bayonets, while, in addition, every pony had an armed man holding its bridle; and as their shifty eyes were turned from one to another in a questioning way, the prevailing thought seemed to be that any such proceeding would be mad in the extreme, and could only result in their being shot down.
The inspection did not take long, and the colonel turned away to confer with the group of officers who followed him.
“The sooner we get rid of these fellows the better,” he said, “for we can’t keep them here. What shall I do?” he continued, in response to a question from the major of the regiment. “Make them take the oaths to be on parole not to bear arms against us again?”
“Ready for them to go and break their word,” grumbled the major.
“Of course; after what has passed we can’t trust them a bit. But we can’t keep them here an hour; half-an-hour is too much. They will see far more of our weakness and the state of our defences in five minutes than I like.”
He turned to the heavy, big-bearded man who seemed to be the leader, and asked if he would take the oath not to fight against the Queen again.
The man started and looked relieved, for he grasped all that was said to him—words which came while he was still in doubt as to what their fate was to be, his ideas tending towards a volley of rifles fired at ten paces.
The next minute he was interpreting the colonel’s words to his comrades in misfortune, and with a meaning smile each man willingly made the promise in Dutch that he would take no further part in the war.
“Look here,” said the colonel to their leader; “make them fully understand that if they are again taken in arms against the Queen—”
“They have no Queen,” said the Boer leader surlily. “This is the Transvaal Republic.”
“Indeed!” said the colonel sternly. “This is not the Transvaal Republic, but a part of the British Dominions now; and remember that you all owe allegiance to Her Majesty the Queen-Empress, whose laws you have now sworn to obey.”
The man scowled.
“And if, as I was telling you, any of you are again found fighting against our troops, you will not be treated as people at war against us, but as rebels liable to be tried by a short drum-head court-martial, and shot out of hand. Do you understand?”
The man nodded.
“Make your companions fully understand it too.”
The Boer leader hesitated as if about to speak, but the colonel turned upon him sharply.
“Quick, sir,” he cried; “I have no time to waste. Tell your companions this, so that there may be no mistake.”
The man stepped back, and his followers pressed round him talking eagerly, several of them understanding English to some extent, and for a few minutes they conversed together excitedly, till, with a shrug of the shoulders, the principal Boer turned and advanced to the colonel.
“Well,” said the latter, “do they fully grasp all this?”
“Oh yes; they know,” replied the man sourly.
“That will do, then,” said the colonel. “No; stop. You are no longer our enemies, and we have treated you well; henceforth act as friends. Go back to your farms, and collect and bring here corn, oxen, and sheep, as much as you like, and I will buy it of you at a good price.”
The Boer brightened up at this.
“In money?” he said. “Not in paper orders?”
“In hard cash, my suspicious friend,” said the colonel, with a look of contempt; “but it’s time you had learnt that our government paper is as good as Transvaal gold.”
“We will be paid in gold,” said the Boer, with a peculiar smile.
“That will do, then,” said the colonel. “Now you can go, and the sooner you set to work to teach your fellow-countrymen to respect the British Government the better for you all. Now, off at once.”
The Boer rejoined his companions, talked with them for a few minutes, and returned.
“Back again?” said the colonel. “Well, what is it?”
“We are waiting to go,” said the Boer coolly.
“Very well; the way is open,” said the colonel. “Off with you, and think you are lucky that we do not keep you as prisoners.”
As he spoke he pointed out towards the open veldt; but the Boer shook his head.
“Not that way,” he said. “We want to cross the spruit to join our friends.”
The colonel hesitated.
“Well,” he said, turning to the major, “perhaps it is not fair to send them out on the karoo.”
“But if you let them join their friends they will be fighting against us again to-morrow.”
“So they will be,” said the colonel grimly, “if we send them in the other direction. You don’t suppose I have any faith in their parole, do you?”
“I did not know,” said the major.
“There, I will send a picket with you to see you safely to the ford,” said the colonel. “Now, off at once, and bring the forage as soon as you can.”
“To-morrow or next night,” said the Boer, with a nod.
“Here, Roby, send a sergeant’s guard to see these people past the outposts.—Now, my good fellow, time is valuable here. Follow that gentleman, and he will see that you are safely passed through our lines. Well, what now?”
“You haven’t given him orders to return us our horses and our rifles.”
“What!” cried the colonel.
“We can’t get about without them,” said the Boer coolly.
The colonel laughed.
“Well,