Bayonets Along the Border Read Free Page A

to hang about here and wait while they pick us off.’
    ‘What, ride for it, d’yer think?’
    ‘No. They
would
pick us off as we fumbled about untying the horses, mounting and riding off in full view of them.’
    ‘An’ you’d fall off if we ’ad to gallop, of course.’
    ‘Certainly not. I’m much better now. No. I’ve got a better idea … Listen. I estimate that we are only about eight miles or so from the Guides’ cantonment at Marden up the road here—’
    Interrupting, Jenkins’s voice now had an underlying note of terror.‘Ah, no. Not me. You know I can’t find me way anywhere, unless there’s a pub at the end of it. I’d get lost in these bloody ’ills, so I would. You go, bach sir. I’ll stay and look after Miss Alice.’
    ‘No. It must be you. You will have to ride like the wind in this heat and you’re a much better horseman than me. You can’t possibly get lost because this road leads straight into the garrison. You just follow your nose and bring back a troop of the Guides as quickly as possible.’ He looked up at the blue, unforgiving sky. ‘It’s midsummer. I reckon we’ve got a good eight hours before nightfall. You can do it, I know you can.’
    ‘Oh, very good, bach sir. Give me some cover while I mount. Ah … er … which way would it be, then, like?’
    ‘Oh, for God’s sake. The way we were heading. Straight up there.’ He indicated to the right. ‘I reckon with only three of them, Alice and I can keep their heads down while you get away. And keep them out until you get back. Throw me your rifle and take this revolver. It will be easier for you to handle from the saddle if you have to. Don’t stop for anything till you get there.’
    ‘Very good.’ The rifle and the Webley were exchanged in mid-air. Simon threw the Lee-Metford sliding across the scree to Alice. ‘Do you think you can handle this, darling? It will be more effective than that popgun you’ve got.’
    ‘Yes, I think so.’ She picked up the heavy weapon but she now wore a frown. ‘How many rounds left in this magazine?’
    ‘Work the bolt and you will see. But Jenkins has fired quite a few so you will need these.’ He pulled out three more magazines from the ammunition box and threw them to her. ‘Now, 352, are you ready to go?’
    ‘Oh, aye. I’m looking forward to it, look you. Fire off a few rounds while I scramble down. Give me ’alf a minute to free the ’orse and get on it and then blaze away while I ride off.’
    ‘Very well. Ready, Alice?’
    She nodded.
    ‘Right. Fire!’
    The two rifles barked as one and then again. But they did not prevent two guns blazing back from the other side of the track. The bullets, however, hit the scree just behind Jenkins as he leapt and skidded down to the dubious protection of the wagon.
    ‘I can see where those two are now, Alice, can you?’ called Fonthill.
    ‘I think so. But this bloody thing is a bit heavy for me. Never mind. I’ll fire away and hope for the best.’
    ‘Good. Don’t expose yourself unduly, darling. Are you ready, 352?’
    ‘Got one foot in the stirrup. Right. Let the buggers ’ave it and good luck to you both!’
    Jenkins swung himself into the saddle and dug his heels into the flanks of his mount and with a whoop was off, his back lying parallel to that of his horse and his head alongside its neck as Simon and Alice began firing as fast as they could, Fonthill inevitably emptying his magazine before Alice had let off three rounds. Nevertheless, the modest fusillade was heavy enough to provide the precious cover that the Welshman needed and horse and rider rounded the bend to their right and disappeared out of sight, leaving a cloud of dust dancing in the rays of the sun.
    ‘Thank God for that!’ Fonthill flattened himself behind his rock and cast an anxious glance at his wife, five feet away from him. ‘All right, darling?’
    Alice put down her rifle and dashed the perspiration from her brow. ‘I think so, Captain.’