Charge! | Page 7

father; but one of the Boers leaned down and
caught him by the shoulder, while another snatched the rifles from his
hands, and laid them across the pommel of the saddle in which he sat.
"Give up, Bob; give up," cried father sternly, as my brother began to
struggle with all his might. "It is no use to fight against fate."
"Hear him now," said the captain. "He can talk sinse at times."
"Yes," said my father, "at times;" and he gave the captain a look which
made him turn away his eyes.--"Val, my boy, I cannot have you
exposed to the ignominy of being bound."
"Sure, no," cried the captain. "I forgot to say a wurrud about

stirrup-leathers across his back if he didn't behave himself."
"Fate is against us for the present, my boy," continued my father, "and
you must ride with this party till I have applied to the proper quarters to
get the matter righted."
"Now, man, be aloive," said the captain, and I winced and looked
vainly round for a way of escape; but I was seized by the wrist by
another dismounted Boer, who slipped a raw-hide noose over my wrist,
just as two more came riding back, leading my own horse, Sandho,
between them. The poor beast, who followed me like a dog, uttered a
shrill neigh as soon as he caught sight of me, springing forward to
reach my side.
"Stop!" cried my father loudly; "there is no need for that. My son will
ride with you, sir."
"Indade, sir, I'm obleeged to ye for the inforrmation," said the captain
mockingly; "but sure it's a work of shupererrogation, me dear friend,
for I knew it, and that he was going to ride backward. If, however, he
gives up sinsibly, he may ride with his back to the horse's tail, and ye
needn't tie his ankles togither. Have ye ever ridden that horse before?"
"He has ridden it hundreds of times, ever since it was a foal," said my
father quickly, for I felt choked.--"Stop, man," he added angrily; "your
captain said my son was not to be bound."
"Sure I didn't say a wurrud about his wrists, old man," cried the captain
contemptuously. "Ye want too much. I've let him off about the ankles,
and let him ride face forward, so be contint. Make his wrists fast behind
him."
I was compelled to resign myself to my fate, and stood fighting hard to
keep down all emotion while my wrists were secured firmly behind my
back, the thin raw-hide cutting painfully into the flesh.
By this time Sandho was bridled and saddled, and just then my father
turned to Bob.

"Take in those rifles, my boy," he said.
The captain turned sharply and gave my father a searching look; but he
contented himself with nodding, and my brother snatched the rifles
from where they lay across the Boer's knees, and rushed indoors with
them.
I knew well enough why, poor fellow: it was to hide the tears
struggling to rise, and of which he was ashamed.
Just then I had harder work than ever to control my own feelings, for
Aunt Jenny hurried towards me, but was kept back by my captors; and I
saw her go to my father and throw her arms about his neck, while he
bent over her and seemed to be trying to whisper comfort.
"There, up with ye, me bhoy," cried the captain. "Ye can't mount,
though, with yer hands behind yer like a prishner.--Lift him on, two of
ye, like a sack."
"That they shan't," I said between my teeth; and feeling now that what
was to como was inevitable, I took a couple of steps to my horse's side.
"Stand!" I said aloud as I raised one foot to the stirrup; and Sandho
stood as rigid as if of bronze, while I made a spring, raised myself up,
and threw my leg over.
"Well done, bhoy!" cried the captain as I sank into the saddle.--"You,
Hooger, take his rein. Unfasten one end from the bit so as to give ye
double length, and ye'd better buckle it to your saddle-bow.--Now look
here, me fine fellow," he continued, addressing me, "ye'll give me none
of your nawnsense; for, look ye, my bhoys are all practised shots with
the rifle. They can bring down a spring-bok going at full speed, so they
can easily bring ye down and yer nag too. There's twenty of them, and
I'm a good shot meself, so ye know what to expect if ye thry to escape."
I said nothing, for I was thinking with agony about poor Aunt Jenny,
who was now coming up to me, and the captain laughed as he saw her
pain-wrung countenance.

"Good-bye, Val, my boy," said my father