on the firing line-第9部分

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her　talk　had　been　full　of　the　young　Canadian　whom　he　had　met　in　the　drive。　Frazer　was　intensely　human。　After　a　year　of　separation　he　would　have　preferred　to　bound　the　talk　by　the　experiences　of　their　two　selves。

As　a　natural　consequence；　he　had　developed　a　strong　prejudice　against　Weldon；　but　Weldon；　all　unconsciously；　had　done　much　to　remove　that　prejudice。　Not　every　man　could　manage　a　crazy；　bucking　broncho　in　any　such　fashion　as　that；　fewer　still　could　come　out　of　the　scrimmage；　unhurt；　to　bow　to　a　young　woman　with　a　cordiality　quite　untinged　with　boyish　bravado。　That　day　at　Maitland；　Frazer　had　registered　his　mental　approval　of　the　long…legged；　lean　Canadian　with　his　keen　gray　eyes　and　his　wrists　of　bronze。　He　had　registered　a　second　note　of　approval；　that　first　night　at　Piquetberg　Road；　when　Weldon；　with　no　unnecessary　words；　had　contrived　to　impress　upon　the　mind　of　his　captain　that　he　was　to　be　included　in　the　guard　to　cross　the　river。　Totally　obedient　and　respectful；　Weldon　nevertheless　had　given　the　impression　of　a　man　who　intended　to　win　his　own　way。　Moreover；　the　direction　of　that　way　appeared　to　be　straight　towards　the　front。

Meanwhile；　peacefully　unconscious　of　this　diagnosis；　Weldon　was　sitting　on　the　river　bank；　prosaically　occupied　in　scooping　out　the　remaining　taste　left　in　an　almost…empty　jam　tin。　Beside　him；　Carew　was　similarly　occupied。　Two　more　jam　tins　were　between　them　and；　exactly　opposite　the　pair　of　jam　tins；　there　squatted　a　burly　Kaffir；　young；　alert　and　crowned　with　a　thatch　of　hair　which　by　rights　should　have　sprouted　from　the　back　of　a　sable　pig。　His　mouth　was　slightly　open；　and　now　and　then　his　tongue　licked　out；　like　the　tongue　of　an　eager　dog。　Aside　from　his　hair；　his　costume　consisted　of　one　black　sock　worn　in　lieu　of　muffler　and　a　worn　pair　of　khaki　trousers。

Behind　him；　the　river　caught　the　sunset　light　and　turned　it　to　a　sheet　of　flowing　copper；　beyond　stretched　the　open　country　in　long；　waving　lines　that　ended　in　the　deep　yellow　band　of　the　afterglow。　Above　them；　the　sky　was　blue；　but　it　dropped　from　the　blue　zenith　to　the　yellow　horizon　through　every　imaginable　shade　of　emerald　and　topaz　until　all　other　shades　lost　themselves　in　one　vivid　blaze　of　burnt　orange。　It　had　been　a　day　of　intense　heat。　Already；　however；　the　falling　twilight　and　the　inevitable　eastward　shift　of　the　wind　had　brought　the　first　hint　of　the　evening　chill。

Weldon　shrugged　his　shoulders。

〃Hurry　up；　Carew；〃　he　adjured　his　companion。　〃I　am　for　leaving　our　feast　and　hieing　us　back　to　the　sanctuary。〃

〃Right；　oh！〃　Carew　raised　his　jam　tin　and　took　careful　aim　at　a　rock　in　mid　stream。

Instantly　the　Kaffir　hitched　forward。

〃Mine？〃　he　demanded。

Carew　stayed　his　arm。

〃What　for？〃

〃Eat。　Um　good。〃

〃Nothing　in　there　but　atmosphere；　sonny。　You　can　get　that　out　of　any　box。　Suppose　I　can　hit　that　little　black　point；　Weldon？〃

〃Not　if　I　know　it；〃　Weldon　said　coolly；　as　he　tossed　his　own　tin　to　the　boy　and；　seizing　that　of　Carew；　threw　it　after　its　mate。　〃Let　the　little　coon　have　his　lick；　Carew。　It's　not　pretty　to　watch　him　go　at　it；　tongue　first；　but　we　can't　all　be　Chesterfields。　What　is　your　name；　sonny？〃

The　boy　paused　with　suspended　tongue；　while　he　rolled　the　great　whites　of　his　eyes　up　at　the　questioner。　Then；　the　whites　still　turned　upon　Weldon；　he　took　one　more　hasty　lick。

〃Kruger　Roberts；〃　he　said　then；　detaching　himself　for　an　instant　from　his　treasure。　〃Oh；　I　infer　you　like　to　sit　on　fences？〃　Weldon　said　interrogatively。

〃Ya；　Boss。〃

〃Which　side　do　you　intend　to　come　down？〃

〃Me　no　come　down；〃　the　boy　answered　nonchalantly；　more　from　inherent　indifference　than　from　any　comprehension　of　Weldon's　allegory。

〃All　right。　Stop　where　you　are。　Meanwhile；　I　think　I　should　call　you　Jamboree。〃

〃Ya；　Boss。〃　The　face　vanished　from　sight　behind　the　tilted　tin。　Then　it　reappeared；　and　a　huge　finger　pointed　to　the　remaining　tins。　〃Mine；　too？〃

But　already　the　boy　was　forgotten。　Weldon　was　following　hard　on　the　heels　of　the　sentry　who　had　dashed　through　the　gate　in　the　churchyard　wall。

Four　o'clock　the　next　morning；　that　darkest　hour　which；　by　its　very　darkness；　heralds　the　coming　dawn；　found　C。　Squadron　moving　out　from　the　gray…walled　churchyard；　their　faces　set　towards　the　eastern　mountains。　All　night　long　they　had　stood　under　arms；　ready　for　the　attack　which　might　be　at　hand。　By　dawn；　they　were　well　on　their　way　towards　the　laager；　fifteen　miles　distant；　whence　had　come　the　scouting　hand　of　Boers　who；　for　two　days　past；　had　made　leisurely　efforts　to　pick　off　their　scattered　sentinels。　At　the　head　of　the　little　troop　rode　Frazer。　Behind　him　and　as　close　to　his　heels　as　military　law　allowed；　came　Weldon；　mounted　on　the　same　little　black　horse　which　had　so　often　carried　him　to　the　hunt　at　home。　Horse　and　rider　both　sniffed　the　chilly　dawn　with　eager　anticipation。　Each　knew　that　something　was　in　store　for　them；　each　contrived　to　impress　upon　the　other　his　determination　to　make　a　record；　whatever　happened。　For　one　short　minute；　Weldon　let　his　strong　hand　rest　on　the　satiny　neck。　He　could　feel　the　answering　pressure　of　the　muscles　beneath　the　shining　skin。　That　was　enough。　He　and　The　Nig　were　in　perfect　understanding；　one　with　another。

〃Weldon？〃

He　spurred　forward　to　the　Captain's　side　and　saluted。

〃In　the　flurry；　last　night；　I　forgot　to　tell　you　that　Miss　Dent　comes　to　Piquetberg　Road；　to…day。　She　is　to　visit　a　cousin；　Miss　Mellen；　and　she　wished　me　to　tell　you　that　she　hoped　you　could　find　time　to　call　upon　her。〃

The　Captain　spoke　low；　his　eyes；　after　the　first　moment；　steadily　fixed　upon　the　line　of　hills　before　them。　Weldon　answered　in　the　same　low　tone。

〃You　have　heard　from　Miss　Dent？〃

〃Yes。　A　note　came；　last　night。　She　is　to　be　here　for　a　month；　while　her　uncle　is　in　England　on　a　business　trip。　Mr。　Mellen　is　the　mayor。　You　probably　know　the　house。〃

〃I　can　easily　find　it。　Please　tell　Miss　Dent　I　shall　be　sure　to　call　as〃

A　blinding　flash　ran　along　the　line　of　hills　close　in　the　foreground　where；　an　instant　before；　had　been　only　empty　ground。　There　was　a　sharp　crackle；　a　strident　hum　and　then　the　muffled　plop　of　bullets　burying　themselves　in　the　earth　six　hundred　feet　in　the　rear。　The　Nig　grew　taut　in　every　muscle；　then　she　edged　slowly　towards　the　huge　khaki…colored　horse　that　bore　the　Captain；　and；　for　an　instant；　the　two　muzzles　touched。

〃Too　long　a　range；　man。　Try　it　again；〃　Frazer　observed　coolly；　as　his　glance　swept　the　empty　landscape；　then；　turning；　swept　the　faces　of　his　men。

That　last　sight　was　to　his　liking。　He　nodded　to　himself　and　straightened　in　his　saddle；　while　the　orders　dropped　from　his　lips；　swift；　clean…cut　and　brooking　no　question　nor　delay。　Ten　men　went　galloping　off　far　to　the　southward；　to　vanish　among　the　foothills　and　reappear　on　the　pass　behind　the　enemy；　while　a　dozen　Boers；　springing　up　from　the　bowels　of　the　earth；　followed　hard　on　their　heels。　Ten　more　took　the　horses　and　fell　back　out　of　range　of　the　firing；　and　the　remainder　of　the　squadron　stayed　in　their　places　and　helped　to　play　out　the　game。

It　was　all　quite　simple；　all　a　matter　of　course。　Instead　of　the　fuss　and　fume　and　chaos　of　fighting；　it　had　worked　itself　out　like　a　problem　in　mathematics；　and　Weldon；　as　he　lay　on　the　ground　with　his　Lee…Enfield　cuddled　into　the　curve　of　his　shoulder；　felt　himself　reducing　it　to　a　pair　of　simultaneous　equations：　if　X　Britons　equal　Y　Boers　on　the　firing　line；　and　Y　Britons　draw　off　the　fire　of　W　Boers；　then　how　many　BritonsBut　there　came　a　second　flash　and　a　second　spatter；　nearer；　this　time；　and　he　lost　his　mathematics　in　a　sudden　rush　of　bad　temper　which　made　him　long　to　fly　at　the　invisible　foe　and　beat　him　about　the　head　with　his　clubbed　rifle。　It　was　no　especial　satisfaction　for　a　man　in　his　position　to　climb　up　on　his　elbow　and　help　to　discharge　a　volley　at　an　empty　landscape。　The　war　pictures　he　had　been　prone　to　study　in　his　boyhood　had　been　full　of　twisty…necked　prancing　horses　and　bright…coated　swaggering　men；　all　on　their　feet；　and　very　hot　and　earnest。　Here　the　picture　was　made　up　of　a　row　of　brown…clothed　forms　lying　flat　on　their　stomachs　and；　far　before　them；　a　single　flat…topped　hill　and　a　few　heaps　of　scattered　black　rocks。　And　this　was　modern　war。

There　came　a　third　blaze；　a　third　hum　of　Mauser　bullets。　Then　he　heard　a　swift　intake　of　the　breath；　followed　by　Carew's　voice；　the　drawling；　languid　voice　which　Weldon　had　learned　to　associate　with　moments　of　deep　excitement。

〃Say；　Weldon；　some　beggar　has　hit　me　in　the　shoulder！〃

Then　of　a　sudden　Weldon　realized　that　at　last　he　knew　what　it　meant　to　be　under　fire。




CHAPTER　SEVEN


〃Oh；　truce！　Truce！〃　Alice　Mellen　protested。　〃Don't　talk　shop；　Cooee。〃

〃It's　not　shop；　it　is　topics　of　the　day；〃　Ethel　responded　tranquilly。　〃Besides；　I　want　to　hear　about　Mr。　Carew。　Is　he　dangerous？〃

Weldon　laughed。

〃No；　for　his　wound；　yes；　for　his　temper。　One　was　only　a　scratch；　the　other　way；　he　was　horribly　cut　up。〃

〃Did　he　swear？〃　Alice　queried；　while　she　distributed　lumps　of　sugar　among　the　cups。

〃Alice！〃

〃Don't　pretend　to　be　shocked；　Cooee。　Even　if　you　haven't　been　out　but　one　season；　you　ought　to　know　what　happens　when　a　man　turns　testy。　Frankly；　I　th