Unfashionable as it is to say so, I am a man of peace. I belong to a profession whose province is to heal, not to destroy. Still there ARE times which turn even the most peaceful of us perforce into fighters—times when those we love, those we are bound to protect, stand in danger of their lives; and at moments like that, no man can doubt what is his plain duty. The Matabele revolt was one such moment. In a conflict of race we MUST back our own colour. I do not know whether the natives were justified1 in rising or not; most likely, yes; for we had stolen their country; but when once they rose, when the security of white women depended upon repelling2 them, I felt I had no alternative. For Hilda's sake, for the sake of every woman and child in Salisbury, and in all Rhodesia, I was bound to bear my part in restoring order.
For the immediate3 future, it is true, we were safe enough in the little town; but we did not know how far the revolt might have spread; we could not tell what had happened at Charter, at Buluwayo, at the outlying stations. The Matabele, perhaps, had risen in force over the whole vast area which was once Lo-Bengula's country; if so, their first object would certainly be to cut us off from communication with the main body of English settlers at Buluwayo.
“I trust to you, Hilda,” I said, on the day after the massacre4 at Klaas's, “to divine for us where these savages5 are next likely to attack us.”
She cooed at the motherless baby, raising one bent7 finger, and then turned to me with a white smile. “Then you ask too much of me,” she answered. “Just think what a correct answer would imply! First, a knowledge of these savages' character; next, a knowledge of their mode of fighting. Can't you see that only a person who possessed8 my trick of intuition, and who had also spent years in warfare9 among the Matabele, would be really able to answer your question?”
“And yet such questions have been answered before now by people far less intuitive than you,” I went on. “Why, I've read somewhere how, when the war between Napoleon the First and the Prussians broke out, in 1806, Jomini predicted that the decisive battle of the campaign would be fought near Jena; and near Jena it was fought. Are not YOU better than many Jominis?”
Hilda tickled10 the baby's cheek. “Smile, then, baby, smile!” she said, pouncing11 one soft finger on a gathering12 dimple. “And who WAS your friend Jomini?”
“The greatest military critic and tactician13 of his age,” I answered. “One of Napoleon's generals. I fancy he wrote a book, don't you know—a book on war—Des Grandes Operations Militaires, or something of that sort.”
“Well, there you are, then! That's just it! Your Jomini, or Hominy, or whatever you call him, not only understood Napoleon's temperament14, but understood war and understood tactics. It was all a question of the lie of the land, and strategy, and so forth15. If I had been asked, I could never have answered a quarter as well as Jomini Piccolomini—could I, baby? Jomini would have been worth a good many me's. There, there, a dear, motherless darling! Why, she crows just as if she hadn't lost all her family!”
“But, Hilda, we must be serious. I count upon you to help us in this matter. We are still in danger. Even now these Matabele may attack and destroy us.”
She laid the child on her lap, and looked grave. “I know it, Hubert; but I must leave it now to you men. I am no tactician. Don't take ME for one of Napoleon's generals.”
“Still,” I said, “we have not only the Matabele to reckon with, recollect16. There is Sebastian as well. And, whether you know your Matabele or not, you at least know your Sebastian.”
She shuddered17. “I know him; yes, I know him.... But this case is so difficult. We have Sebastian—complicated by a rabble18 of savages, whose habits and manners I do not understand. It is THAT that makes the difficulty.”
“But Sebastian himself?” I urged. “Take him first, in isolation19.”
She paused for a full minute, with her chin on her hand and her elbow on the table. Her brow gathered. “Sebastian?” she repeated. “Sebastian?—ah, there I might guess something. Well, of course, having once begun this attempt, and being definitely committed, as it were, to a policy of killing20 us, he will go through to the bitter end, no matter how many other lives it may cost. That is Sebastian's method.”
“You don't think, having once found out that I saw and recognised him, he would consider the game lost, and slink away to the coast again?”
“Sebastian? Oh, no; that is the absolute antipodes of his type and temperament.”
“He will never give up because of a temporary check, you think?”
“No, never. The man has a will of sheer steel—it may break, but it will not bend. Besides, consider: he is too deeply involved. You have seen him; you know; and he knows you know. You may bring this thing home to him. Then what is his plain policy? Why, to egg on the natives whose confidence he has somehow gained into making a further attack, and cutting off all Salisbury. If he had succeeded in getting you and me massacred at Klaas's, as he hoped, he would no doubt have slunk off to the coast at once, leaving his black dupes to be shot down at leisure by Rhodes's soldiers.”
“I see; but having failed in that?”
“Then he is bound to go through with it, and kill us if he can, even if he has to kill all Salisbury with us. That, I feel sure, is Sebastian's plan. Whether he can get the Matabele to back him up in it or not is a different matter.”
“But taking Sebastian himself; alone?”
“Oh, Sebastian himself alone would naturally say: 'Never mind Buluwayo! Concentrate round Salisbury, and kill off all there first; when that is done, then you can move on at your ease and cut them to pieces in Charter and Buluwayo.' You see, he would have no interest in the movement, himself, once he had fairly got rid of us here. The Matabele are only the pieces in his game. It is ME he wants, not Salisbury. He would clear out of Rhodesia as soon as he had carried his point. But he would have to give some reasonable ground to the Matabele for his first advice; and it seems a reasonable ground to say, 'Don't leave Salisbury in your rear, so as to put yourselves between two fires. Capture the outpost first; that down, march on undistracted to the principal stronghold.'”
“Who is no tactician?” I murmured, half aloud.
She laughed. “That's not tactics, Hubert; that's plain common sense—and knowledge of Sebastian. Still, it comes to nothing. The question is not, 'What would Sebastian wish?' it is, 'Could Sebastian persuade these angry black men to accept his guidance?'”
“Sebastian!” I cried; “Sebastian could persuade the very devil! I know the man's fiery21 enthusiasm, his contagious22 eloquence23. He thrilled me through, myself, with his electric personality, so that it took me six years—and your aid—to find him out at last. His very abstractness tells. Why, even in this war, you may be sure, he will be making notes all the time on the healing of wounds in tropical climates, contrasting the African with the European constitution.”
“Oh, yes; of course. Whatever he does, he will never forget the interests of science. He is true to his lady-love, to whomever else he plays false. That is his saving virtue24.”
“And he will talk down the Matabele,” I went on, “even if he doesn't know their language. But I suspect he does; for, you must remember, he was three years in South Africa as a young man, on a scientific expedition, collecting specimens25. He can ride like a trooper; and he knows the country. His masterful ways, his austere26 face, will cow the natives. Then, again, he has the air of a prophet; and prophets always stir the negro. I can imagine with what air he will bid them drive out the intrusive27 white men who have usurped28 their land, and draw them flattering pictures of a new Matabele empire about to arise under a new chief, too strong for these gold-grubbing, diamond-hunting mobs from over sea to meddle29 with.”
She reflected once more. “Do you mean to say anything of our suspicions in Salisbury, Hubert?” she asked at last.
“It is useless,” I answered. “The Salisbury folk believe there is a white man at the bottom of this trouble already. They will try to catch him; that's all that is necessary. If we said it was Sebastian, people would only laugh at us. They must understand Sebastian, as you and I understand him, before they would think such a move credible30. As a rule in life, if you know anything which other people do not know, better keep it to yourself; you will only get laughed at as a fool for telling it.”
“I think so, too. That is why I never say what I suspect or infer from my knowledge of types—except to a few who can understand and appreciate. Hubert, if they all arm for the defence of the town, you will stop here, I suppose, to tend the wounded?”
Her lips trembled as she spoke31, and she gazed at me with a strange wistfulness. “No, dearest,” I answered at once, taking her face in my hands. “I shall fight with the rest. Salisbury has more need to-day of fighters than of healers.”
“I thought you would,” she answered, slowly. “And I think you do right.” Her face was set white; she played nervously32 with the baby. “I would not urge you; but I am glad you say so. I want you to stop; yet I could not love you so much if I did not see you ready to play the man at such a crisis.”
“I shall give in my name with the rest,” I answered.
“Hubert, it is hard to spare you—hard to send you to such danger. But for one other thing, I am glad you are going.... They must take Sebastian alive; they must NOT kill him.”
“They will shoot him red-handed if they catch him,” I answered confidently. “A white man who sides with the blacks in an insurrection!”
“Then YOU must see that they do not do it. They must bring him in alive, and try him legally. For me—and therefore for you—that is of the first importance.”
“Why so, Hilda?”
“Hubert, you want to marry me.” I nodded vehemently33. “Well, you know I can only marry you on one condition—that I have succeeded first in clearing my father's memory. Now, the only man living who can clear it is Sebastian. If Sebastian were to be shot, it could NEVER be cleared—and then, law of Medes and Persians, I could never marry you.”
“But how can you expect Sebastian, of all men, to clear it, Hilda?” I cried. “He is ready to kill us both, merely to prevent your attempting a revision; is it likely you can force him to confess his crime, still less induce him to admit it voluntarily?”
She placed her hands over her eyes and pressed them hard with a strange, prophetic air she often had about her when she gazed into the future. “I know my man,” she answered, slowly, without uncovering her eyes. “I know how I can do it—if the chance ever comes to me. But the chance must come first. It is hard to find. I lost it once at Nathaniel's. I must not lose it again. If Sebastian is killed skulking35 here in Rhodesia, my life's purpose will have failed; I shall not have vindicated36 my father's good name; and then, we can never marry.”
“So I understand, Hilda, my orders are these: I am to go out and fight for the women and children, if possible; that Sebastian shall be made prisoner alive, and on no account to let him be killed in the open!”
“I give you no orders, Hubert. I tell you how it seems best to me. But if Sebastian is shot dead—then you understand it must be all over between us. I NEVER can marry you until, or unless, I have cleared my father.”
“Sebastian shall not be shot dead,” I cried, with my youthful impetuosity. “He shall be brought in alive, though all Salisbury as one man try its best to lynch him.”
I went out to report myself as a volunteer for service. Within the next few hours the whole town had been put in a state of siege, and all available men armed to oppose the insurgent37 Matabele. Hasty preparations were made for defence. The ox-waggons38 of settlers were drawn39 up outside in little circles here and there, so as to form laagers, which acted practically as temporary forts for the protection of the outskirts40. In one of these I was posted. With our company were two American scouts41, named Colebrook and Doolittle, irregular fighters whose value in South African campaigns had already been tested in the old Matabele war against Lo-Bengula. Colebrook, in particular, was an odd-looking creature—a tall, spare man, bodied like a weasel. He was red-haired, ferret-eyed, and an excellent scout42, but scrappier and more inarticulate in his manner of speech than any human being I had ever encountered. His conversation was a series of rapid interjections, jerked out at intervals43, and made comprehensible by a running play of gesture and attitude.
“Well, yes,” he said, when I tried to draw him out on the Matabele mode of fighting. “Not on the open. Never! Grass, if you like. Or bushes. The eyes of them! The eyes!...” He leaned eagerly forward, as if looking for something. “See here, Doctor; I'm telling you. Spots. Gleaming. Among the grass. Long grass. And armed, too. A pair of 'em each. One to throw”—he raised his hand as if lancing something—“the other for close fighting. Assegais, you know. That's the name of it. Only the eyes. Creeping, creeping, creeping. No noise. One raised. Waggons drawn up in laager. Oxen out-spanned in the middle. Trekking44 all day. Tired out; dog tired. Crawl, crawl, crawl! Hands and knees. Might be snakes. A wriggle45. Men sitting about the camp fire. Smoking. Gleam of their eyes! Under the waggons. Nearer, nearer, nearer! Then, the throwing ones in your midst. Shower of 'em. Right and left. 'Halloa! stand by, boys!' Look up; see 'em swarming47, black like ants, over the waggons. Inside the laager. Snatch up rifles! All up! Oxen stampeding, men running, blacks sticking 'em like pigs in the back with their assegais. Bad job, the whole thing. Don't care for it, myself. Very tough 'uns to fight. If they once break laager.”
“Then you should never let them get to close quarters,” I suggested, catching48 the general drift of his inarticulate swift pictures.
“You're a square man, you are, Doctor! There you touch the spot. Never let 'em get at close quarters. Sentries49?—creep past 'em. Outposts?—crawl between. Had Forbes and Wilson like that. Cut 'em off. Perdition!... But Maxims50 will do it! Maxims! Never let em get near. Sweep the ground all round. Durned hard, though, to know just WHEN they're coming. A night; two nights; all clear; only waste ammunition51. Third, they swarm46 like bees; break laager; all over!”
This was not exactly an agreeable picture of what we had to expect—the more so as our particular laager happened to have no Maxims. However, we kept a sharp lookout52 for those gleaming eyes in the long grass of which Colebrook warned us; their flashing light was the one thing to be seen, at night above all, when the black bodies could crawl unperceived through the tall dry herbage. On our first night out we had no adventures. We watched by turns outside, relieving sentry53 from time to time, while those of us who slept within the laager slept on the bare ground with our arms beside us. Nobody spoke much. The tension was too great. Every moment we expected an attack of the enemy.
Next day news reached us by scouts from all the other laagers. None of them had been attacked; but in all there was a deep, half-instinctive54 belief that the Matabele in force were drawing step by step closer and closer around us. Lo-Bengula's old impis, or native regiments55, had gathered together once more under their own indunas—men trained and drilled in all the arts and ruses56 of savage6 warfare. On their own ground, and among their native scrub, those rude strategists are formidable. They know the country, and how to fight in it. We had nothing to oppose to them but a handful of the new Matabeleland police, an old regular soldier or two, and a raw crowd of volunteers, most of whom, like myself, had never before really handled a rifle.
That afternoon, the Major in command decided57 to send out the two American scouts to scour58 the grass and discover, if possible, how near our lines the Matabele had penetrated59. I begged hard to be permitted to accompany them. I wanted, if I could, to get evidence against Sebastian; or, at least, to learn whether he was still directing and assisting the enemy. At first, the scouts laughed at my request; but when I told them privately60 that I believed I had a clue against the white traitor61 who had caused the revolt, and that I wished to identify him, they changed their tone, and began to think there might be something in it.
“Experience?” Colebrook asked in his brief shorthand of speech, running his ferret eyes over me.
“None,” I answered; “but a noiseless tread and a capacity for crawling through holes in hedges which may perhaps be useful.”
He glanced inquiry62 at Doolittle, who was a shorter and stouter63 man, with a knack64 of getting over obstacles by sheer forcefulness.
“Hands and knees!” he said, abruptly65, in the imperative66 mood, pointing to a clump67 of dry grass with thorny68 bushes ringed about it.
I went down on my hands and knees, and threaded my way through the long grasses and matted boughs69 as noiselessly as I could. The two old hands watched me. When I emerged several yards off, much to their surprise, Colebrook turned to Doolittle. “Might answer,” he said curtly70. “Major says, 'Choose your own men.' Anyhow, if they catch him, nobody's fault but his. Wants to go. Will do it.”
We set out through the long grass together, walking erect71 at first, till we had got some distance from the laager, and then, creeping as the Matabele themselves creep, without displacing the grass-flowers, for a mere34 wave on top would have betrayed us at once to the quick eyes of those observant savages. We crept on for a mile or so. At last, Colebrook turned to me, one finger on his lips. His ferret eyes gleamed. We were approaching a wooded hill, all interspersed72 with boulders73. “Kaffirs here!” he whispered low, as if he knew by instinct. HOW he knew, I cannot tell; he seemed almost to scent74 them.
We stole on farther, going more furtively75 than ever now. I could notice by this time that there were waggons in front, and could hear men speaking in them. I wanted to proceed, but Colebrook held up one warning hand. “Won't do,” he said, shortly, in a low tone. “Only myself. Danger ahead! Stop here and wait for me.”
Doolittle and myself waited. Colebrook kept on cautiously, squirming his long body in sinuous76 waves like a lizard's through the grass, and was soon lost to us. No snake could have been lither. We waited, with ears intent. One minute, two minutes, many minutes passed. We could catch the voices of the Kaffirs in the bush all round. They were speaking freely, but what they said I did not know, as I had picked up only a very few words of the Matabele language.
It seemed hours while we waited, still as mice in our ambush77, and alert. I began to think Colebrook must have been lost or killed—so long was he gone—and that we must return without him. At last—we leaned forward—a muffled78 movement in the grass ahead! A slight wave at the base! Then it divided below, bit by bit, while the tops remained stationary79. A weasel-like body slank noiselessly through. Finger on lips once more, Colebrook glided80 beside us. We turned and crawled back, stifling81 our very pulses. For many minutes none of us spoke. But we heard in our rear a loud cry and a shaking of assegais; the Kaffirs behind us were yelling frightfully. They must have suspected something—seen some movement in the tufted heads of grass, for they spread abroad, shouting. We halted, holding our breath. After a time, however; the noise died down. They were moving another way. We crept on again, stealthily.
When, at last, after many minutes, we found ourselves beyond a sheltering belt of brushwood, we ventured to rise and speak. “Well?” I asked of Colebrook. “Did you discover anything?”
He nodded assent82. “Couldn't see him,” he said shortly. “But he's there, right enough. White man. Heard 'em talk of him.”
“What did they say?” I asked, eagerly.
“Said he had a white skin, but his heart was a Kaffir's. Great induna; leader of many impis. Prophet, wise weather doctor! Friend of old Moselekatse's. Destroy the white men from over the big water; restore the land to the Matabele. Kill all in Salisbury, especially the white women. Witches—all witches. They give charms to the men; cook lions' hearts for them; make them brave with love-drinks.”
“They said that?” I exclaimed, taken aback. “Kill all the white women!”
“Yes. Kill all. White witches, every one. The young ones worst. Word of the great induna.”
“And you could not see him?”
“Crept near waggons, close. Fellow himself inside. Heard his voice; spoke English, with a little Matabele. Kaffir boy who was servant at the mission interpreted.”
“What sort of voice? Like this?” And I imitated Sebastian's cold, clear-cut tone as well as I was able.
“The man! That's him, Doctor. You've got him down to the ground. The very voice. Heard him giving orders.”
That settled the question. I was certain of it now. Sebastian was with the insurgents83.
We made our way back to our laager, flung ourselves down, and slept a little on the ground before taking our turn in the fatigues84 of the night watch. Our horses were loosely tied, ready for any sudden alarm. About midnight, we three were sitting with others about the fire, talking low to one another. All at once Doolittle sprang up, alert and eager. “Look out, boys!” he cried, pointing his hands under the waggons. “What's wriggling85 in the grass there?”
I looked, and saw nothing. Our sentries were posted outside, about a hundred yards apart, walking up and down till they met, and exchanging “All's well” aloud at each meeting.
“They should have been stationary!” one of our scouts exclaimed, looking out at them. “It's easier for the Matabele to see them so, when they walk up and down, moving against the sky. The Major ought to have posted them where it wouldn't have been so simple for a Kaffir to see them and creep in between them!”
“Too late now, boys!” Colebrook burst out, with a rare effort of articulateness. “Call back the sentries, Major! The blacks have broken line! Hold there! They're in upon us!”
Even as he spoke, I followed his eager pointing hand with my eyes, and just descried86 among the grass two gleaming objects, seen under the hollow of one of the waggons. Two: then two; then two again; and behind, whole pairs of them. They looked like twin stars; but they were eyes, black eyes, reflecting the starlight and the red glare of the camp-fire. They crept on tortuously87 in serpentine89 curves through the long, dry grasses. I could feel, rather than see, that they were Matabele, crawling prone90 on their bellies91, and trailing their snake-like way between the dark jungle. Quick as thought, I raised my rifle and blazed away at the foremost. So did several others. But the Major shouted, angrily: “Who fired? Don't shoot, boys, till you hear the word of command! Back, sentries, to laager! Not a shot till they're safe inside! You'll hit your own people!”
Almost before he said it, the sentries darted92 back. The Matabele, crouching93 on hands and knees in the long grass, had passed between them unseen. A wild moment followed. I can hardly describe it; the whole thing was so new to me, and took place so quickly. Hordes94 of black human ants seemed to surge up all at once over and under the waggons. Assegais whizzed through the air, or gleamed brandished95 around one. Our men fell back to the centre of the laager, and formed themselves hastily under the Major's orders. Then a pause; a deadly fire. Once, twice, thrice we volleyed. The Matabele fell by dozens—but they came on by hundreds. As fast as we fired and mowed96 down one swarm, fresh swarms97 seemed to spring from the earth and stream over the waggons. Others appeared to grow up almost beneath our feet as they wormed their way on their faces along the ground between the wheels, squirmed into the circle, and then rose suddenly, erect and naked, in front of us. Meanwhile, they yelled and shouted, clashing their spears and shields. The oxen bellowed98. The rifles volleyed. It was a pandemonium99 of sound in an orgy of gloom. Darkness, lurid100 flame, blood, wounds, death, horror!
Yet, in the midst of all this hubbub101, I could not help admiring the cool military calm and self-control of our Major. His voice rose clear above the confused tumult102. “Steady, boys, steady! Don't fire at random103. Pick each your likeliest man, and aim at him deliberately104. That's right; easy—easy! Shoot at leisure, and don't waste ammunition!”
He stood as if he were on parade, in the midst of this palpitating turmoil105 of savages. Some of us, encouraged by his example, mounted the waggons, and shot from the tops at our approaching assailants.
How long the hurly-burly went on, I cannot say. We fired, fired, fired, and Kaffirs fell like sheep; yet more Kaffirs rose fresh from the long grass to replace them. They swarmed106 with greater ease now over the covered waggons, across the mangled107 and writhing108 bodies of their fellows; for the dead outside made an inclined plane for the living to mount by. But the enemy were getting less numerous, I thought, and less anxious to fight. The steady fire told on them. By-and-by, with a little halt, for the first time they wavered. All our men now mounted the waggons, and began to fire on them in regular volleys as they came up. The evil effects of the surprise were gone by this time; we were acting109 with coolness and obeying orders. But several of our people dropped close beside me, pierced through with assegais.
All at once, as if a panic had burst over them, the Matabele, with one mind, stopped dead short in their advance and ceased fighting. Till that moment, no number of deaths seemed to make any difference to them. Men fell, disabled; others sprang up from the ground by magic. But now, of a sudden, their courage flagged—they faltered110, gave way, broke, and shambled in a body. At last, as one man, they turned and fled. Many of them leapt up with a loud cry from the long grass where they were skulking, flung away their big shields with the white thongs111 interlaced, and ran for dear life, black, crouching figures, through the dense112, dry jungle. They held their assegais still, but did not dare to use them. It was a flight, pell-mell—and the devil take the hindmost.
Not until then had I leisure to THINK, and to realise my position. This was the first and only time I had ever seen a battle. I am a bit of a coward, I believe—like most other men—though I have courage enough to confess it; and I expected to find myself terribly afraid when it came to fighting. Instead of that, to my immense surprise, once the Matabele had swarmed over the laager, and were upon us in their thousands, I had no time to be frightened. The absolute necessity for keeping cool, for loading and reloading, for aiming and firing, for beating them off at close quarters—all this so occupied one's mind, and still more one's hands, that one couldn't find room for any personal terrors. “They are breaking over there!” “They will overpower us yonder!” “They are faltering113 now!” Those thoughts were so uppermost in one's head, and one's arms were so alert, that only after the enemy gave way, and began to run at full pelt114, could a man find breathing-space to think of his own safety. Then the thought occurred to me, “I have been through my first fight, and come out of it alive; after all, I was a deal less afraid than I expected!”
That took but a second, however. Next instant, awaking to the altered circumstances, we were after them at full speed; accompanying them on their way back to their kraals in the uplands with a running fire as a farewell attention.
As we broke laager in pursuit of them, by the uncertain starlight we saw a sight which made us boil with indignation. A mounted man turned and fled before them. He seemed their leader, unseen till then. He was dressed like a European—tall, thin, unbending, in a greyish-white suit. He rode a good horse, and sat it well; his air was commanding, even as he turned and fled in the general rout115 from that lost battle.
I seized Colebrook's arm, almost speechless with anger. “The white man!” I cried. “The traitor!”
He did not answer a word, but with a set face of white rage loosed his horse from where it was tethered among the waggons. At the same moment, I loosed mine. So did Doolittle. Quick as thought, but silently, we led them out all three where the laager was broken. I clutched my mare116's mane, and sprang to the stirrup to pursue our enemy. My sorrel bounded off like a bird. The fugitive117 had a good two minutes start of us; but our horses were fresh, while his had probably been ridden all day. I patted my pony118's neck; she responded with a ringing neigh of joy. We tore after the outlaw119, all three of us abreast120. I felt a sort of fierce delight in the reaction after the fighting. Our ponies121 galloped122 wildly over the plain; we burst out into the night, never heeding123 the Matabele whom we passed on the open in panic-stricken retreat. I noticed that many of them in their terror had even flung away their shields and their assegais.
It was a mad chase across the dark veldt—we three, neck to neck, against that one desperate runaway124. We rode all we knew. I dug my heels into my sorrel's flanks, and she responded bravely. The tables were turned now on our traitor since the afternoon of the massacre. HE was the pursued, and WE were the pursuers. We felt we must run him down, and punish him for his treachery.
At a breakneck pace, we stumbled over low bushes; we grazed big boulders; we rolled down the sides of steep ravines; but we kept him in sight all the time, dim and black against the starry125 sky; slowly, slowly—yes, yes!—we gained upon him. My pony led now. The mysterious white man rode and rode—head bent, neck forward—but never looked behind him. Bit by bit we lessened126 the distance between us. As we drew near him at last, Doolittle called out to me, in a warning voice: “Take care, Doctor! Have your revolvers ready! He's driven to bay now! As we approach, he'll fire at us!”
Then it came home to me in a flash. I felt the truth of it. “He DARE not fire!” I cried. “He dare not turn towards us. He cannot show his face! If he did, we might recognise him!”
On we rode, still gaining. “Now, now,” I cried, “we shall catch him!”
Even as I leaned forward to seize his rein127, the fugitive, without checking his horse, without turning his head, drew his revolver from his belt, and, raising his hand, fired behind him at random. He fired towards us, on the chance. The bullet whizzed past my ear, not hitting anyone. We scattered128, right and left, still galloping129 free and strong. We did not return his fire, as I had told the others of my desire to take him alive. We might have shot his horse; but the risk of hitting the rider, coupled with the confidence we felt of eventually hunting him to earth, restrained us. It was the great mistake we made.
He had gained a little by his shots, but we soon caught it up. Once more I said, “We are on him!”
A minute later, we were pulled up short before an impenetrable thicket131 of prickly shrubs132, through which I saw at once it would have been quite impossible to urge our staggering horses.
The other man, of course, reached it before us, with his mare's last breath. He must have been making for it, indeed, of set purpose; for the second he arrived at the edge of the thicket he slipped off his tired pony, and seemed to dive into the bush as a swimmer dives off a rock into the water.
“We have him now!” I cried, in a voice of triumph. And Colebrook echoed, “We have him!”
We sprang down quickly. “Take him alive, if you can!” I exclaimed, remembering Hilda's advice. “Let us find out who he is, and have him properly tried and hanged at Buluwayo! Don't give him a soldier's death! All he deserves is a murderer's!”
“You stop here,” Colebrook said, briefly133, flinging his bridle134 to Doolittle to hold. “Doctor and I follow him. Thick bush. Knows the ways of it. Revolvers ready!”
I handed my sorrel to Doolittle. He stopped behind, holding the three foam-bespattered and panting horses, while Colebrook and I dived after our fugitive into the matted bushes.
The thicket, as I have said, was impenetrable above; but it was burrowed135 at its base by over-ground runs of some wild animal—not, I think, a very large one; they were just like the runs which rabbits make among gorse and heather, only on a bigger scale—bigger, even, than a fox's or badger's. By crouching and bending our backs, we could crawl through them with difficulty into the scrubby tangle136. It was hard work creeping. The runs divided soon. Colebrook felt with his hands on the ground: “I can make out the spoor!” he muttered, after a minute. “He has gone on this way!”
We tracked him a little distance in, crawling at times, and rising now and again where the runs opened out on to the air for a moment. The spoor was doubtful and the tunnels tortuous88. I felt the ground from time to time, but could not be sure of the tracks with my fingers; I was not a trained scout, like Colebrook or Doolittle. We wriggled137 deeper into the tangle. Something stirred once or twice. It was not far from me. I was uncertain whether it was HIM—Sebastian—or a Kaffir earth-hog, the animal which seemed likeliest to have made the burrows138. Was he going to elude139 us, even now? Would he turn upon us with a knife? If so, could we hold him?
At last, when we had pushed our way some distance in, we heard a wild cry from outside. It was Doolittle's voice. “Quick! quick! out again! The man will escape! He has come back on his tracks, and rounded!”
I saw our mistake at once. We had left our companion out there alone, rendered helpless by the care of all three horses.
Colebrook said never a word. He was a man of action. He turned with instinctive haste, and followed our own spoor back again with his hands and knees to the opening in the thicket by which we had first entered.
Before we could reach it, however, two shots rang out clear in the direction where we had left poor Doolittle and the horses. Then a sharp cry broke the stillness—the cry of a wounded man. We redoubled our pace. We knew we were outwitted.
When we reached the open, we saw at once by the uncertain light what had happened. The fugitive was riding away on my own little sorrel,—riding for dear life; not back the way we came from Salisbury, but sideways across the veldt towards Chimoio and the Portuguese141 seaports142. The other two horses, riderless and terrified, were scampering143 with loose heels over the dark plain. Doolittle was not to be seen; he lay, a black lump, among the black bushes about him.
We looked around for him, and found him. He was severely144, I may even say dangerously, wounded. The bullet had lodged145 in his right side. We had to catch our two horses, and ride them back with our wounded man, leading the fugitive's mare in tow, all blown and breathless. I stuck to the fugitive's mare; it was the one clue we had now against him. But Sebastian, if it WAS Sebastian, had ridden off scot-free. I understood his game at a glance. He had got the better of us once more. He would make for the coast by the nearest road, give himself out as a settler escaped from the massacre, and catch the next ship for England or the Cape140, now this coup130 had failed him.
Doolittle had not seen the traitor's face. The man rose from the bush, he said, shot him, seized the pony, and rode off in a second with ruthless haste. He was tall and thin, but erect—that was all the wounded scout could tell us about his assailant. And THAT was not enough to identify Sebastian.
All danger was over. We rode back to Salisbury. The first words Hilda said when she saw me were: “Well, he has got away from you!”
“Yes; how did you know?”
“I read it in your step. But I guessed as much before. He is so very keen; and you started too confident.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
justified
|
|
| a.正当的，有理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
repelling
|
|
| v.击退( repel的现在分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
massacre
|
|
| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
savages
|
|
| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
warfare
|
|
| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
tickled
|
|
| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
pouncing
|
|
| v.突然袭击( pounce的现在分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
tactician
|
|
| n. 战术家, 策士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
temperament
|
|
| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
recollect
|
|
| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
shuddered
|
|
| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
rabble
|
|
| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
isolation
|
|
| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
killing
|
|
| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
fiery
|
|
| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
contagious
|
|
| adj.传染性的，有感染力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
eloquence
|
|
| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
specimens
|
|
| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
austere
|
|
| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
intrusive
|
|
| adj.打搅的；侵扰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
usurped
|
|
| 篡夺，霸占( usurp的过去式和过去分词 )； 盗用； 篡夺，篡权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
meddle
|
|
| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
credible
|
|
| adj.可信任的，可靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
nervously
|
|
| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
vehemently
|
|
| adv. 热烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
skulking
|
|
| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
vindicated
|
|
| v.澄清（某人/某事物）受到的责难或嫌疑( vindicate的过去式和过去分词 )；表明或证明（所争辩的事物）属实、正当、有效等；维护 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
insurgent
|
|
| adj.叛乱的，起事的；n.叛乱分子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
waggons
|
|
| 四轮的运货马车( waggon的名词复数 )； 铁路货车； 小手推车 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
outskirts
|
|
| n.郊外，郊区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
scouts
|
|
| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
scout
|
|
| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
intervals
|
|
| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
trekking
|
|
| v.艰苦跋涉，徒步旅行( trek的现在分词 )；（尤指在山中）远足，徒步旅行，游山玩水 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
wriggle
|
|
| v./n.蠕动，扭动；蜿蜒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
swarm
|
|
| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
swarming
|
|
| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
sentries
|
|
| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
maxims
|
|
| n.格言，座右铭( maxim的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
ammunition
|
|
| n.军火，弹药 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
lookout
|
|
| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
sentry
|
|
| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
instinctive
|
|
| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
regiments
|
|
| （军队的）团( regiment的名词复数 )； 大量的人或物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
ruses
|
|
| n.诡计，计策( ruse的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
scour
|
|
| v.搜索；擦，洗，腹泻，冲刷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
penetrated
|
|
| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
privately
|
|
| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
traitor
|
|
| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
inquiry
|
|
| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
stouter
|
|
| 粗壮的( stout的比较级 )； 结实的； 坚固的； 坚定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
knack
|
|
| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
imperative
|
|
| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
clump
|
|
| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
thorny
|
|
| adj.多刺的，棘手的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
boughs
|
|
| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
curtly
|
|
| adv.简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
interspersed
|
|
| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
boulders
|
|
| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
scent
|
|
| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
furtively
|
|
| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
sinuous
|
|
| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
ambush
|
|
| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
muffled
|
|
| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
stationary
|
|
| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
glided
|
|
| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
stifling
|
|
| a.令人窒息的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
assent
|
|
| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
insurgents
|
|
| n.起义，暴动，造反( insurgent的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
fatigues
|
|
| n.疲劳( fatigue的名词复数 )；杂役；厌倦；（士兵穿的）工作服 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
wriggling
|
|
| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
descried
|
|
| adj.被注意到的，被发现的，被看到的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
tortuously
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
88
tortuous
|
|
| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
serpentine
|
|
| adj.蜿蜒的，弯曲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
prone
|
|
| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
bellies
|
|
| n.肚子( belly的名词复数 )；腹部；（物体的）圆形或凸起部份；腹部…形的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
darted
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
crouching
|
|
| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
hordes
|
|
| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
brandished
|
|
| v.挥舞( brandish的过去式和过去分词 )；炫耀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
mowed
|
|
| v.刈，割( mow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
swarms
|
|
| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
bellowed
|
|
| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
pandemonium
|
|
| n.喧嚣，大混乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
lurid
|
|
| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
hubbub
|
|
| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
tumult
|
|
| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
random
|
|
| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
turmoil
|
|
| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
swarmed
|
|
| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
mangled
|
|
| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
writhing
|
|
| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
faltered
|
|
| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
thongs
|
|
| 的东西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
faltering
|
|
| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
pelt
|
|
| v.投掷，剥皮，抨击，开火 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
rout
|
|
| n.溃退，溃败；v.击溃，打垮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
mare
|
|
| n.母马，母驴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
fugitive
|
|
| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
pony
|
|
| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
outlaw
|
|
| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
abreast
|
|
| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
ponies
|
|
| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
galloped
|
|
| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
heeding
|
|
| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
runaway
|
|
| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
starry
|
|
| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
lessened
|
|
| 减少的，减弱的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
rein
|
|
| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
galloping
|
|
| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
coup
|
|
| n.政变；突然而成功的行动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
thicket
|
|
| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
shrubs
|
|
| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
bridle
|
|
| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
burrowed
|
|
| v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的过去式和过去分词 )；翻寻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
tangle
|
|
| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
wriggled
|
|
| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
burrows
|
|
| n.地洞( burrow的名词复数 )v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的第三人称单数 )；翻寻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
elude
|
|
| v.躲避，困惑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
cape
|
|
| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
Portuguese
|
|
| n.葡萄牙人；葡萄牙语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
seaports
|
|
| n.海港( seaport的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
scampering
|
|
| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
severely
|
|
| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
lodged
|
|
| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |