suggested Murray.
“Then where in the name of common sense is he, sir? He had his instructions – strict instructions to keep well in touch with the rest; and now in the emergency, just when he is wanted he is not to be found. Listen, all of you. Can you hear anything?”
There was plenty to hear, for the half-burned posts of the savage town or the fragments of the forest still kept up a petillation, and flames flashed up here and there and emitted more smoke; but no one ventured to speak.
“Bah!” ejaculated the chief officer angrily. “We shall never get out of the smoky maze like this. Now then, all together, my lads, when I give the word; a good hearty shout; but every man make ready, and at the first spear thrown fire in the direction – fire low, mind – Who’s that – Mr Murray?”
“Yes, sir,” whispered the lad, who had suddenly laid a hand upon his officer’s arm. “I fancy I can hear the rustling of steps away to the left, as if the enemy is creeping nearer.”
“Fancy, of course, sir!” snapped out the officer. “Bare-footed savages are not likely to be stealing amongst these red-hot ashes.”
Bang! and directly after bang! bang! The reports of three muskets rang out in a dull half-smothered way, followed by a piercing yell and a distinctly heard rush of feet. Then once more silence, which was broken by a low hail close at hand.
“Who’s that?” cried the lieutenant.
“May it is, sir,” responded that individual. “Here’s one on ’em, sir, as has got it.”
“Who is it?” whispered the lieutenant, accompanying his question with an ejaculation full of vexation.
“Oh, I dunno, your honour – Sambo or Nigger Dick, or Pompey, sir. But he’ll never answer to his name again. Here he is, spear and all.”
“One of the enemy whom you shot down?” said the lieutenant, in a tone full of relief.
“Not me shot him, sir, but one of my messmates.”
“Speak softly, my man,” said the lieutenant, “and be all ready to fire again. I’m afraid they’ve been creeping up all round.”
“Not all round, sir,” said the sailor, “but a whole lot on this side, and them three shots drifted them. There was a regular rush as soon as the lads opened fire.”
“Good,” said the lieutenant. “But they may be coming on again. Stand fast, my lads, ready to fire at the slightest sound. I don’t know how they can stand it, Mr Murray,” he added, “for I feel as if my boot soles are being burned through. – Yes: what were you going to say – that yours are as bad?”
“No, sir,” replied the lad excitedly; “I was going to suggest that the men who fired should stand fast.”
“Why, of course, my lad; but why?”
“Because, sir, they can tell the direction in which they fired, and know the way in which the enemy retreated.”
“Of course, sir; but what good will that do?”
“It ought to be the way in which their friends are gathered, and the opposite direction to that in which we ought to retreat.”
“Good, my lad,” said the lieutenant, clapping the lad on the shoulder. “You’ll make a smart officer some day. I should not have thought of that. It may prove to be the way towards the shore. We’ll draw off at once. Oh!” he added. “If a good sharp breeze would spring up, to drive off this smoke!”
“But wouldn’t it set the remains of the fire blazing up again, sir?”
“Here, Murray,” whispered the officer pettishly, “you’d better take command of the expedition. You are sharper than I am.”
“I beg your pardon, sir.”
“Not at all. I’m not so weak as to resent hearing a good suggestion. You are quite right, my lad. I only wonder that your brain keeps so clear in the horrible confusion this smoke brings on. Here, let’s put your suggestion into use. Where’s Tom May?”
“Here, sir.”
“Can you tell which way the enemy retreated?”
“For sartin. This here nigger’s lying on his back with his head pynted the way his party came from – shot right through his chesty; and there’s a spear, sir, sticking slahntindickler in the ashes as shows the way which it was throwed from. Both being from the same bearings seems to say, sir, as that’s the way the niggers would run.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the lieutenant thoughtfully. “Not quite sure, my man?”
“No, sir, but I heerd them seem to run same way, so I thought it was a bit likely, sir.”
“Likely enough for us to follow, my lad,” said the officer; “so lead off, and keep on in the direction you think that the shore will lie.”
“Can’t do that, sir,” said the man bluntly. “Only think, sir, as it will be farthest from where the enemy came.”
“Lead on,” said the officer shortly. “It’s the best thing for us now. Forward, my lads. You, Mr Murray, keep alongside of me. We’ll bring up the rear.”
The retreat began, with the midshipman nowise happy in his own mind, for he could not help feeling that after all they might be marching into fresh difficulties instead of towards safety; but before long, as they tramped on over the heated ashes, suffering badly, for they began to inhale more and more the heated dust thrown up by their men’s feet, they had something else to think of, for Murray suddenly caught hold of his officer’s arm to check him.
“Don’t, do that, my lad,” came in response. “It’s as dark as can be, and if we are left behind we shall be worse off than ever.”
“Yes, sir,” whispered the midshipman; “but listen.”
“I am listening, Mr Murray, and I can hear the crackling of the men’s shoes as they trample up the burning embers. That’s what you hear.”
“Yes, sir, but something more.”
“Eh? What?”
“Listen again, sir. Just stop for a moment.”
The officer stopped short on the instant, and then caught the lad by the arm.
“Forward,” he whispered, “and keep step with me. Close up to the men, and we’ll halt, fall into line, give the brutes time to get within throwing distance for their spears, and then give them a volley. You are quite right, Mr Murray. Your ears are sharper than mine. We are followed, my lad, and if we hear their footsteps cease we must dash forward to put our movement into effect, for they will have halted to throw their weapons. – Yes, they are creeping after us quite fast now.”
“Yes, sir; I can hear them quite plainly.”
“Never mind so long as we don’t feel them quite plainly, Murray, my lad,” continued the officer, with a faint laugh. “I don’t know how you feel, my boy, but I am suffering from a peculiar tickling sensation about the upper part of my spine. It is a sort of anticipation of the coming of a spear; and the worst of it is that we can’t run,
