The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, March 31, 1901, Page 6

Page views left: 0

You have reached the hourly page view limit. Unlock higher limit to our entire archive!

Subscribers enjoy higher page view limit, downloads, and exclusive features.

Text content (automatically generated)

THE SUNDAY CALL. ons for what he S the enterprise, &t Billy's own reg Rifles Billy's scheme caught on well enough, though meany of i—and willing —to enter the either the sovere them or ever From these Billy acc the money ESant ex of pay due them. In s with the help of donations ficers and others Billy collected in cash an bow am I to know who has won d to and y the 3 be easy for him to judge pan entitled to sweep the e it w fight allve but vounded is disqualified, sir.” ‘s‘?\'!a' if two are together?” asked the it you'll be ly explained; “and If to divide the pool , there’d be no one our decision.” The doctor accepted his appolntment, lsughingly congratulating Billy upon his tontine “It's & grand plan, Har?(ne!!v be said, “and no mistake! But it's hard on the chaps that get in unwounded, if gy o™ “You're right Billy replied sdge, sir, sir, 1t does seem 80,” But If they do get In, why, lord, they’ll be glad enough to have ot off with whole skins and to let some 1 the pool!” nr";h::ew(k:‘i l(wp;i- that stood in the way of the British advance, lfke & lion in the path. The great rocky hill was firmly held by & sirong commando of Boers, who had intrenched themselves an: their fashion, and had mounted sever: guns to command the approaches. wThe position was practically impreg- to frontal attack, for from the foot g o there ran out in this direc- lain, without cover or with nal thornbush or isolated r oops attacking from gy 14 \Irexrx):vo!ed to a wither- the Ar o rom every gun and rifie that the Eirs' choose to bring to bear upor ust advance half way to YFor this rea the position was to be attacked from both flanks, only the two half companies a‘rvad)l mentioned being detafled tc e fire of the enemy and keep b on as far as possible from the main attack by attempting, or pretending to attempt, to rush the position grom the from T task entrusted to the ghouid them bundred brave fellows seleced for tnis enterprise was dangerous enough. It was likely to prove fatal to most or all of those conc and that was why Bill Harknes t of his tontine, and why bis ing ught on” among those H ke part in the affair, The four young officers engaged com- menced operations overnight by placing their bandful of men in skirmishing order under what little cover each man could find for himself at three-quarters of a mile from the kopje. »e guns from the British posi- the Boer camp with vigor, as preparing for a frontal attack in tion sheile though force, the little body of scattered men of the Upshires and Rifles supporting the il- jusion by peppering the hill with immense energy from a hundred points in such a lead the enemy to suppose attacked by a very much e the troops engaged in the main movement made wide sweeps to Fight and left r good cover. So much gor the tle, which went ultimately in gavor of the Bri it is with the move- ments of the hundred or s§ of men en- £eged 1n the frontal attack that we are concerned at present. replied to their fire with a ade of shrapnel, which iding places of our handful s to Billy’s tontine and killed score of them before the ced one inch from the po- d taken up under cover of e eignal was given for the 1 each man left his shelter to over as many yards of open een him and the mext spot, T the kopje, where he could lie con- put in a few shots from »d drew fifty from those marksmen. mentable task that was set llows, and they were not long € this. In the first rush forward nty or thirty fell dead or wound- 4 were left lying in the open, to wrig- rd some tuft of grass or er from the haill of bul- over every moving thing 3oers. Many found it better rather than attract the ene- vy making any movement, and and suffered throughout the day, without water and with- 1 dying together. the skirmishing attack men knew well enough they could not take the position and not expected to do so; that they re to draw the enemy’s fire and attention by constantly creeping id by pouring in bullets enough e him, if possible, into suppos'ng that he was being attacked by a large force By 4 in the afternoon there may have been a score of men left unwounded, or 80 slightly wounded as to be able to con- tinue the advance, which was, of course, by this time perfectly useless and aim- less; but the men remaining in the run- ng remembered the tontine, and though they would have served the military pur- pose for which they had been set that fatal task quite as well by lying, each in the safest spot he could find, until night, or until the kopje should have been taken by the main attack, each man now thought of his chance for the hundred pounds pool and pushed on, watching his rivals and trying to gain a foot or two of space for the mtine’s sake, but thinking littie of the enerhy, who sat and picked him off whenever he moved, as a man may sit and shoot the rabbits that dart from hole to hole. By 6 in the evening there were five men still in the running; by 7 there were three. Two of them were close together, run- ning—as it were—neck and neck, so close to one another that they made when they moved for the same rock or thorn bush, The third man was fifty yards away on their Jeft and perhaps a yard or two ahead. The two watched the one with anxiety, realizing that he was slightly in front. The single man was an Upshire private, while of the other pair one was a sergeant in the same regiment and the other a fine young private n the Rifles, These two conversed in a friendly manner in spite of their grim rivalry. Each was slightly wounded. The older man was shot through the left arm; the younger dragged his right foot. Both were glad of their wounds, for by virtue of them they were qualified to win Billy Harkness’ ton- tine. As for Billy himself, he had fallen long since and lay groaning a quarter of a mile away with a shot through his body. The third man still in the running appeared to be pretty bedly wounded; he moved slowly and lay down constantly, though he ed determined to continye. Gordon, him. - =a T r devil, he seems pretty badly hit. Hughes, Ind.’ he continued - shouting, “what d'you feel where havé they got you?" 2 x “Through the shoulder, — them,” the man shouted back. “I can't go on much Hmfl“ I'm dead faint—I'm bleedin’ to eath! “1 don't think we've got to fear him much,” sald the ]I/oun‘er man, Evans of the Rifles. “It'll be between you and me, sergeant.” Gordon lay staring at Hughes, “I tell sl wh;!, youngster,” he sald I of poor chap So much risk. as wel there as here; better, for he's further on than we.” “Come on then, mate. T'll lend a hand with him, too,” sald ., Evans. *Lora, night's coming on, we niay as well hang towether and talk, while we're alive!" The two men crept across toward the third man. Many shots were aimed at them, but it Wwas growing dark and the; ‘were not hit. % . x Gordon had a little water in his bottle, and this he gave to the dying man. Be- tween them they bound up his shoulde and stopped the bleeding. od reward you—that's better!" said all for that,” laughed KEvans, and the three wounded men dragg themselves toward’ a ETOUD of stones {wenty yards further on. A shower of bullets whistied about them. Hughos cried “Oh!” and turned over, dead. The other two reached cover unhurt, Well, T don’t know, but I almost think I shall stop here a bit, maybe for the night,” laughed Evans; “it's & nhice boi. roox;h ain’t it? You'll be going on, I dare say Gordon looked out. There was - other inch of cover witliin fitty yards, oo might travel the distance 1n . safety: thanks to the dusk; but it would 1 great risk. Phs +I think I'll stop,” he said. “Thank the Lord,” laughed Evans, “for I expect, I should have followed If you'd ne on. Then the two men lay down and tried to sleep. There had been tremendous ting for the whole of the day on both §ides of the koples. but the din of war i own now died and apparent], enemy still held his posltlug. ¥ e, Gordon's wound could not sleep; was painful and h his companion was ‘l"e-t! al “Pet’s both swear we won’t move on ir the other sleeps,” he suggested suddenly; and Gordon laughed and agreed. “You'll think me darned anxious to win t pool, and so I am,” continued Evans, “and as you seem the right kind of good chap, mate, and may be my last friend on this earth, I don't know but what 11l tell you the reason. There's a woman it “No doubt,” said -Gordon; “there gen- erally is.” Evans ted, and the con- versation languished for a few minutes, “I don’t know why you should be so keen on winning this yer tontine,” Evans presently. “I seem to have par- ticular reasons; one's own al- they s ways look the Bln:z!. af suppose you're ‘ & married man?’ “No, nor likely to be.” “women ain’t in my line. As a matter of fact, and as Evans Would have known, had he belonged to the Upshires, Gordon was populariy sup- osed in the regiment to have been badiy ilted; his remarks upon the subject of the seX were invariably sour, and he had been heard to announce that any man who trusted a woman must be the kind of darned fool that is past praylng for. In fastening this theory upon Gordon the regiment had, for once, piade an ac- curate guess. He had been abominably treated but a year or two since while sta- tioned at Aldershot, his girl having sud- denly and utterly deserted him, pre. sumably in favor of a younger man, and this within hall of the wedding day. Gor don never spoke of the matter, but the catastrophe had left him a silent, soured man, and the regiment—basing hy- pothesis upon part knowledege—had ac- curately gauged the reason for his stern- ness and silence and for his soured view of womankind. Evans spoke again presently, “I suppose I've behaved —— badly to her,” he sald suddenly; “for it's two Gordon growled, years now and we ain’t married et, though she knows, and, =0 ’elp me od, 1 swear it's true, my one and chief de- sire is to do rightly by her. or nothing at the time, can't marry when we like, as you know, and we fell in love with one another.” Gordon_laughed, and the laugh —ap- parently jarred upon the other, for he 14y still for ‘some little while and sald no more. “You neéedn't suppose,” he resumed, It was that Chaps like ‘me, ufter & pause of a quarter of an hour, neag X was to earning a hundred pounds! during which there ‘was silence broken Lorl! liow near one can be to 'eaven and only by the sound of an oecasionnl snip- yet just jmiss it; this ‘ere pool would ing shot or the'cry of some wounded man make all”the difference if one had got behind them asking for water or pray- it!” ing aloud that for God’s sake he mlsh{ ““What would you do with the money if die. “You mustn’t suppose I regret it you was to win it after all?” asked Gor- or ever did regret it, or shall. I'm omly don. sorry it's so long before I've been able Evans’ to do right by her.” Another pause, and distance. again the startling single shots and the mont or appailing prayers from the rear. eyes looked wistfully into the He did not answer for a mo- two. “A hundred pounds!" he sald dreamlly “I've sent her what I can,” Evans re- at last. “I'd set her right, firstly; then sumed; ‘“‘but Lord knows whether she ] don't know but what 1'd rent a cottag ets it now during this blamed war. She and grow Itry; anyho Socan't aome rnder any kind of list, d'you leave her much again. see, of those to get helped. and who be happy. You don't ilke women, I can knows what becomes of letters posted in see, £0 you don’t understand; but me and this darned country? Three pound I've Mildred found our fate when we met and sent her since the war bhegan, an' my no mistake about it. chocolate box that she’ll have sold for «ani” said Gerdon. ten thick ‘uns If it ever reached her. but .\yhere was all this?” he asked pres- who's to know? ) 5 ently. “Any kids?" sald Gérdon. 'St Aldershot—she's at Dover now, but *“One, Lord! You never did see such a her folks are at Aldershot sti wonder! Crawled at six months and alds, he's a saddle ma walked at twelve; the image of her moth- well. You m er, God bless her. Lord, what wouldn’t this and say I meant well by her. 1 §1ve to see the pair again before I die!" him us Tommies can't get married jusi “Maybe you will,” said Gordon, sym- when we please. He might forgive her, pathetically, “maybe you will. Our if he v the kid. We'd have been mar- chaps'll fetch us In the morning under the ried if I'd lived, you can tell him, so heip red flag or they’ll take the kopje. me we should. 5 1 right,” said Kvans, “but ~ Gordon said no more. Presently Evans come morning light, I'm bound to shove fell asleep. Gordon lay looking up at the on and so are you, and those blamed sky, tossing restles but after a while chaps up there will shoot straighter than he ioo calmed down, and lay \{airly sull, they did last evening. you may bet but he did not sleep. i Gordon sald nothing. He only spoke once, however:\ “And at You " Evans resumed, presently, any rate it's better than I expected,” he it was like this: Mildred. muttered. Gordon gave a great start, Toward morning he crawled back a cou- ple ot yards and lay well behind Evans. almost rising to his feet. ¢ ‘What's up, mate?" sald Evans, “gave Presently he fell asleep. your arm a twinge? Stop a bit, let's sece ~ Evans woke him when it was nearly if I can get the bandage more comfort- light. i able like. “f thought I'd tell you mate, I'd be u Xes, that's Dbetter,” sald Gordon. and off when you're fair awake, Lord, how it hurt, suddenly; for all the wouldn't steal a march on you. world as though I'd been shot over “Stay where you are behind the rock, ain.” and don’t be a — ;o can't you see vans arranged the bandage and lay ' you're in front of me?” said Gordon. “I'm down again, looking up at the stars. going no further, not a blamed yard. “Where was I? “I must,” said Evans. ‘“You was ag “You were saying something about the far as me last night, up at the stone: woman—! tha, or Maud—what was the I e? PN, Mildred; well it wis like this; Mildred she'd have heen married month to another bloke; she Ii ‘well enough, but for some rea took a fancy for me, and felt she marry him. Her folks, they for forcing her, and she left th 1'd rather fight square for the tontine; you're dealing generous Lecause of my 20t out,” seld Gordon. “I'm. not such a fool; I'm not fit t« move; tried to crawl home while you were asléep, feelin’ bad; but L couldn't t: 1vel more'n a yard wo.'" % éome along and I':l help you—we'll lie abreast’and win it tog-ther, why shouldn’t we divide the stakes: said Gordon, “I'm too bad don't know that she'd ask the not if she was starving, she and t! ‘“What's the kid called?” asked presently. ‘They’re both Mfldreds,” said “If you was to survive this yver id: he resumed after anothei, “p'raps’ you'd 100k up the: poor tell her what happened, and why I sent any more cash after this dat can tell her about this tontine, and . You are a g00d 'un. one of the £a) Look ‘ers, now, 1 u're bad, I'm bad too, let me pelp you back behind ones; they'll get you out here '“A'J”‘m‘;'nm prove the truth of this statement a volley of rifie shots rang out from the top of the kopje, and Evans fell over across Gordon's body. Gordon dragged him behind the stomes and examined him carefully. ‘““Where" they hit you. lad?” he sald. “Through the body,” said Evans, -faint- ly. “I think this’ll do me. See my girl it you can, mate. and tell her—goes by the name of Mrs. Evans—i4 Duke street, Dover. Lord! I m faint!" “Keep alive till doctor comes and you've won the tontine,” said Gordon. “Buck up, old_man!” " murmured Evans. “Oh, Oh, dear!™ An hour later Gordon saw to his joy that the ambulance men wers out on the hill bringing in the wounded and burying the dead. ns was still alive but un- conscious. Gordon moistened his lips and temples with the few remalning drops of water., He waved a handkerchief persist- ently, and at length a couple of men, hav- ing burfed Hughes. who lay close at hand reached - his sanctuary. The doctor-and the chaplain were with them. Are you the last?’ asked the doctof. “If so, I congratulate you, for you've won the ton > ““This is the winner,” sald Gordon; “he’ a yard higher than me—he's allve, isn’ he? Yes, he's alive,” alive; coul said the doctor; t you have got in fromi of him? You seem fairly well, barring that arm.” It was not the truth, but perhaps th recording angel deait leniently with the lie._The doctor believed it. Well, you've had the most infernal luck,” he said. “If the man had twopen- north of grit,’”” he added afterward to the aplain, “he’d bave " dragged himseif ahead of the other fellow; his wound lsn't as bad as all that. . . . . . Gorden was still In the hospital when he read among the itemfis of war news in a Cape paper the following: “Sailled for England, invalided home, No. 439, Thomas Evans, Brockelhurst Rifles. Evans’ was the fourth name in the list; against it were placed the words, “doing b Gordon has received a scrawl from the young Rifleman before this. It contained the following passage after the expression of gratitude: "I found out your name, and Mildred shall know it. and the kid too, and ihe youngster shall be taught to mention it {n her prayers, * ¢ “I think I need ail they can do for me in that line,”” said Gordon, when he read this, “ard 'perhaps a_litile more.” He sighed and sat for an hour staring out of the window. Then he tried to read the pn?er. but the attempt was a failure, He kicked it away and laughed. “What a — oid fool I am!” he sald.

Other pages from this issue: