"No, nor the Matabele either, for all their sharp eyes. They pa.s.sed by without stopping. I clasped the baby hard, and tried to keep it from crying--if it had cried, all would have been lost; but they pa.s.sed just below, and swept on toward Rozenboom"s. I lay still for a while, not daring to look out. Then I raised myself warily, and tried to listen.
Just at that moment, I heard a horse"s hoofs ring out once more. I couldn"t tell, of course, whether it was YOU returning, or one of the Matabele, left behind by the others. So I crouched again.... Thank G.o.d, you are safe, Hubert!"
All this took a moment to say, or was less said than hinted. "Now, what must we do?" I cried. "Bolt back again to Salisbury?"
"It is the only thing possible--if my machine is unhurt. They may have taken it... or ridden over and broken it."
We went down to the spot, and picked it up where it lay, half-concealed among the brittle, dry scrub of milk-bushes. I examined the bearings carefully; though there were hoof-marks close by, it had received no hurt. I blew up the tire, which was somewhat flabby, and went on to untie my st.u.r.dy pony. The moment I looked at her I saw the poor little brute was wearied out with her two long rides in the sweltering sun. Her flanks quivered. "It is no use," I cried, patting her, as she turned to me with appealing eyes that asked for water. "She CAN"T go back as far as Salisbury; at least, till she has had a feed of corn and a drink.
Even then, it will be rough on her."
"Give her bread," Hilda suggested. "That will hearten her more than corn. There is plenty in the house; Tant Mettie baked this morning."
I crept in reluctantly to fetch it. I also brought out from the dresser a few raw eggs, to break into a tumbler and swallow whole; for Hilda and I needed food almost as sorely as the poor beast herself. There was something gruesome in thus rummaging about for bread and meat in the dead woman"s cupboard, while she herself lay there on the floor; but one never realises how one will act in these great emergencies until they come upon one. Hilda, still calm with unearthly calmness, took a couple of loaves from my hand, and began feeding the pony with them. "Go and draw water for her," she said, simply, "while I give her the bread; that will save time. Every minute is precious."
I did as I was bid, not knowing each moment but that the insurgents would return. When I came back from the spring with the bucket, the mare had demolished the whole two loaves, and was going on upon some gra.s.s which Hilda had plucked for her.
"She hasn"t had enough, poor dear," Hilda said, patting her neck. "A couple of loaves are penny buns to her appet.i.te. Let her drink the water, while I go in and fetch out the rest of the baking."
I hesitated. "You CAN"T go in there again, Hilda!" I cried. "Wait, and let me do it."
Her white face was resolute. "Yes, I CAN," she answered. "It is a work of necessity; and in works of necessity a woman, I think, should flinch at nothing. Have I not seen already every varied aspect of death at Nathaniel"s?" And in she went, undaunted, to that chamber of horrors, still clasping the baby.
The pony made short work of the remaining loaves, which she devoured with great zest. As Hilda had predicted, they seemed to hearten her. The food and drink, with a bucket of water dashed on her hoofs, gave her new vigour like wine. We gulped down our eggs in silence. Then I held Hilda"s bicycle. She vaulted lightly on to the seat, white and tired as she was, with the baby in her left arm, and her right hand on the handle-bar.
"I must take the baby," I said.
She shook her head.
"Oh, no. I will not trust her to you."
"Hilda, I insist."
"And I insist, too. It is my place to take her."
"But can you ride so?" I asked, anxiously.
She began to pedal. "Oh, dear, yes. It is quite, quite easy. I shall get there all right--if the Matabele don"t burst upon us."
Tired as I was with my long day"s work, I jumped into my saddle. I saw I should only lose time if I disputed about the baby. My little horse seemed to understand that something grave had occurred; for, weary as she must have been, she set out with a will once more over that great red level. Hilda pedalled bravely by my side. The road was b.u.mpy, but she was well accustomed to it. I could have ridden faster than she went, for the baby weighted her. Still, we rode for dear life. It was a grim experience.
All round, by this time, the horizon was dim with clouds of black smoke which went up from burning farms and plundered homesteads. The smoke did not rise high; it hung sullenly over the hot plain in long smouldering ma.s.ses, like the smoke of steamers on foggy days in England. The sun was nearing the horizon; his slant red rays lighted up the red plain, the red sand, the brown-red gra.s.ses, with a murky, spectral glow of crimson.
After those red pools of blood, this universal burst of redness appalled one. It seemed as though all nature had conspired in one unholy league with the Matabele. We rode on without a word. The red sky grew redder.
"They may have sacked Salisbury!" I exclaimed at last, looking out towards the brand-new town.
"I doubt it," Hilda answered. Her very doubt rea.s.sured me.
We began to mount a long slope. Hilda pedalled with difficulty. Not a sound was heard save the light fall of my pony"s feet on the soft new road, and the shrill cry of the cicalas. Then, suddenly, we started.
What was that noise in our rear? Once, twice, it rang out. The loud ping of a rifle!
Looking behind us, we saw eight or ten mounted Matabele! Stalwart warriors they were--half naked, and riding stolen horses. They were coming our way! They had seen us! They were pursuing us!
"Put on all speed!" I cried, in my agony. "Hilda, can you manage it?"
She pedalled with a will. But, as we mounted the slope, I saw they were gaining upon us. A few hundred yards were all our start. They had the descent of the opposite hill as yet in their favour.
One man, astride on a better horse than the rest, galloped on in front and came within range of us. He had a rifle in his hand, he pointed it twice, and covered us. But he did not shoot. Hilda gave a cry of relief.
"Don"t you see?" she exclaimed. "It is Oom Jan Willem"s rifle! That was their last cartridge. They have no more ammunition."
I saw she was probably right; for Klaas was out of cartridges, and was waiting for my new stock to arrive from England. If that were correct, they must get near enough to attack us with a.s.segais. They are more dangerous so. I remembered what an old Boer had said to me at Buluwayo: "The Zulu with his a.s.segai is an enemy to be feared; with a gun, he is a bungler."
We pounded on up the hill. It was deadly work, with those brutes at our heels. The child on Hilda"s arm was visibly wearying her. It kept on whining. "Hilda," I cried, "that baby will lose your life! You CANNOT go on carrying it."
She turned to me with a flash of her eyes. "What! You are a man," she broke out, "and you ask a woman to save her life by abandoning a baby!
Hubert, you shame me!"
I felt she was right. If she had been capable of giving it up, she would not have been Hilda. There was but one other way left.
"Then YOU must take the pony," I called out, "and let me have the bicycle!"
"You couldn"t ride it," she called back. "It is a woman"s machine, remember."
"Yes, I could," I replied, without slowing. "It is not much too short; and I can bend my knees a bit. Quick, quick! No words! Do as I tell you!"
She hesitated a second. The child"s weight distressed her. "We should lose time in changing," she answered, at last, doubtful but still pedalling, though my hand was on the rein, ready to pull up the pony.
"Not if we manage it right. Obey orders! The moment I say "Halt," I shall slacken my mare"s pace. When you see me leave the saddle, jump off instantly, you, and mount her! I will catch the machine before it falls.
Are you ready? Halt, then!"
She obeyed the word without one second"s delay. I slipped off, held the bridle, caught the bicycle, and led it instantaneously. Then I ran beside the pony--bridle in one hand, machine in the other--till Hilda had sprung with a light bound into the stirrup. At that, a little leap, and I mounted the bicycle. It was all done nimbly, in less time than the telling takes, for we are both of us naturally quick in our movements. Hilda rode like a man, astride--her short, bicycling skirt, un.o.btrusively divided in front and at the back, made this easily possible. Looking behind me with a hasty glance, I could see that the savages, taken aback, had reined in to deliberate at our unwonted evolution. I feel sure that the novelty of the iron horse, with a woman riding it, played not a little on their superst.i.tious fears; they suspected, no doubt, this was some ingenious new engine of war devised against them by the unaccountable white man; it might go off unexpectedly in their faces at any moment. Most of them, I observed, as they halted, carried on their backs black ox-hide shields, interlaced with white thongs; they were armed with two or three a.s.segais apiece and a k.n.o.bkerry.
Instead of losing time by the change, as it turned out, we had actually gained it. Hilda was able to put on my sorrel to her full pace, which I had not dared to do, for fear of outrunning my companion; the wise little beast, for her part, seemed to rise to the occasion, and to understand that we were pursued; for she stepped out bravely. On the other hand, in spite of the low seat and the short crank of a woman"s machine, I could pedal up the slope with more force than Hilda, for I am a practised hill-climber; so that in both ways we gained, besides having momentarily disconcerted and checked the enemy. Their ponies were tired, and they rode them full tilt with savage recklessness, making them canter up-hill, and so needlessly fatiguing them. The Matabele, indeed, are unused to horses, and manage them but ill. It is as foot soldiers, creeping stealthily through bush or long gra.s.s, that they are really formidable. Only one of their mounts was tolerably fresh, the one which had once already almost overtaken us. As we neared the top of the slope, Hilda, glancing behind her, exclaimed, with a sudden thrill, "He is spurting again, Hubert!"
I drew my revolver and held it in my right hand, using my left for steering. I did not look back; time was far too precious. I set my teeth hard. "Tell me when he draws near enough for a shot," I said, quietly.
Hilda only nodded. Being mounted on the mare, she could see behind her more steadily now than I could from the machine; and her eye was trustworthy. As for the baby, rocked by the heave and fall of the pony"s withers, it had fallen asleep placidly in the very midst of this terror!
After a second, I asked once more, with bated breath, "Is he gaining?"
She looked back. "Yes; gaining."
A pause. "And now?"
"Still gaining. He is poising an a.s.segai."
Ten seconds more pa.s.sed in breathless suspense. The thud of their horses" hoofs alone told me their nearness. My finger was on the trigger. I awaited the word. "Fire!" she said at last, in a calm, unflinching voice. "He is well within distance."
I turned half round and levelled as true as I could at the advancing black man. He rode, nearly naked, showing all his teeth and brandishing his a.s.segai; the long white feathers stuck upright in his hair gave him a wild and terrifying barbaric aspect. It was difficult to preserve one"s balance, keep the way on, and shoot, all at the same time; but, spurred by necessity, I somehow did it. I fired three shots in quick succession. My first bullet missed; my second knocked the man over; my third grazed the horse. With a ringing shriek, the Matabele fell in the road, a black writhing ma.s.s; his horse, terrified, dashed back with maddened snorts into the midst of the others. Its plunging disconcerted the whole party for a minute.
We did not wait to see the rest. Taking advantage of this momentary diversion in our favour, we rode on at full speed to the top of the slope--I never knew before how hard I could pedal--and began to descend at a dash into the opposite hollow.