Read Ebook: Dick in the Desert by Otis James

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Ebook has 516 lines and 20820 words, and 11 pages

FALSE EVIDENCE

The last sally had been made and repulsed, the last shot fired; the fight was over, and victory remained with the white men. And yet, after all, was it a victory or a massacre? If you were a stay-at-home, and read the report from the telegrams in your club, or in the triumphant columns of the daily papers, especially those on the side of the Ministry, you would certainly have pronounced it the former. But if you had been there on the spot, and had seen the half-naked, ill-armed natives, with the fire of patriotism blazing in their eyes and leaping in their hearts--had seen them being shot down in rows by the merciless guns of the English batteries--another view of the matter might have presented itself to you. It might have occurred to you that these men were fighting on their own soil for their freedom and their country, and that the spirit which was blinding their eyes to the hopelessness of resistance, and urging them on to resist the stranger's progress with such passionate ineffectiveness, was after all, a natural and a poetic one. But, after all, this has nothing to do with my story.

The battle was over, and it was morning. Far away in the east a dull red light had arisen from over the tops of the towering black mountains, and an angry sun was sullenly shining on the scene of carnage. It was a low hillside, once pleasant enough to look upon, but at that moment probably the most hideous sight which the whole universe could have shown. The silvery streams, which had trickled lazily down to the valley below, now ran thick and red with blood. The luxuriant shrubs and high waving ferns were trampled down and disfigured, and, most horrible sight of all, everywhere were strewn the copper-coloured forms of the beaten natives. There they lay apart and in heaps in all imaginable postures, and with all imaginable expressions on their hard, battered faces. Some lay on their sides with their fingers locked around their spears, and the rigid frown and convulsed passion of an undying hatred branded on their numbed features. Others less brave had been shot in the back whilst flying from the death-dealing fire of the European guns, and lay stretched about in attitudes which in life would have been comical, but in death were grotesquely hideous; and over the sloping fields the misty clouds of smoke still lingered and curled upwards from the battered extinct shells which lay thick on the ground.

High above the scene of devastation, on a rocky tableau at the summit of the range of hills, were pitched the tents of the victors. A little apart from these, conspicuous by the flag which floated above it, were the general's quarters; and underneath that sloping roof of canvas a strange scene was being enacted.

Seated amongst a little group of the superior officers, with a heavy frown on his stern face, sat the general. Before him, at a little distance, with a soldier on either side, stood a tall, slight young man, in the uniform of an officer, but swordless. His smooth face, as yet beardless, was dyed with a deep flush, which might well be there, whether it proceeded from shame or indignation. For he was under arrest, and charged with a crime which, in a soldier, is heinous indeed--it was cowardice.

It was a court-martial before which he stood arraigned, although a hastily improvised one. But soldiers have prompt ideas of justice, and General Luxton was a martinet in all matters of discipline. Disciplinarian though he was, however, he liked little the task which was now before him.

He looked up from the papers, which were stretched out on the rickety little round table, with a sudden movement, and bent his frowning gaze upon the accused. The young man returned his gaze steadily, but the colour in his cheeks grew deeper.

"Herbert Devereux, you stand accused of a crime which, in your profession, nothing can palliate or excuse. Have you anything to say for yourself?"

"There will be no need for me to say anything, sir," was the prompt reply. "It is true that I turned my back upon the enemy, but it was to face a greater danger. The man whose life I saved can disprove this cruel charge against me in a moment. I admit that, from your point of view, appearances are suspicious, but you have only to learn from my half-brother, Rupert Devereux, why I quitted my post, and what I effected by so doing, to absolve me at least from all suspicion of cowardice, however much I may be to blame as a matter of discipline."

General Luxton appeared surprised, a little relieved.

"I hope so," he said, not unkindly. "Roberts, send an orderly to Lieutenant Devereux's tent, and command his presence at once."

The man withdrew, and there was a few minutes' delay. Then the entrance to the tent was lifted up, and a tall, dark young man, with thin but decided features, and flashing black eyes, stepped forward. He was handsome, after a certain type, but his expression was too lifeless and supercilious to be prepossessing.

General Luxton looked up and nodded.

"Lieutenant Devereux, your half-brother, who stands accused of cowardice in the face of the enemy, appeals to you to give evidence on his behalf. Let us hear what you saw of him during the recent fighting."

Eagerly, and with a confident light in his fair young face, the prisoner turned towards the man to whom these words were addressed. But slowly and deliberately the latter turned his back upon his half-brother without noticing his glance of appeal, and with a scornful light in his eyes. There was a slight murmur, and an interchange of looks amongst the few who were present at this significant action.

"LIAR!"

The word seemed hurled out with such a passionate intensity that every one started. General Luxton looked up angrily.

"Silence, sir! You will have an opportunity of saying what you have to say presently. Proceed, Devereux."

"As I was saying," Rupert Devereux continued calmly, without appearing to have noticed the interruption, "he made no answer, but seemed to wish to avoid me. As the message with which I was entrusted was an important one, I rode on and left him hurrying towards the rear."

With a sterner air even than he had at first assumed, General Luxton turned towards the unfortunate young man who stood before him. He was standing as though turned to stone, with wide-open eyes, staring at the man who had just spoken, attitude and expression alike bespeaking an overpowering bewilderment.

"You are at liberty to ask the witness any questions," the General said, shortly.

For a moment there was a dead silence. Then the words came pouring out from his quivering lips like a mountain torrent.

"Rupert, what have you said? What does this mean? Good God, are you trying to ruin me? Did I not run to your assistance because you were beset by those three blackguards? Didn't I kill two of them and save your life? You can't have forgotten it! Why are you lying? Hilton saw it all, and so did Fenwick. Where are they? My God, this is horrible!"

The deep flush had gone from his cheeks, and left him pale as death. Great beads of perspiration stood out upon his forehead, and there was a wild look in his deep blue eyes. But the man to whom he made his passionate appeal kept his back turned and heeded not a word of it. Instead of answering he addressed the General.

"General Luxton," Rupert said, calmly, "the accused, in denying the truth of my statement, mentions the names of two men whom he admits were witnesses of this lamentable occurrence. Might I suggest that they be called to give their version?"

The General nodded assent, and the thing was done. But Hilton was the only one who answered the summons, and on reference to a list of the killed and wounded it was found that Fenwick was reported missing.

"John Hilton, the accused has appealed to you to give evidence on his behalf. Let us hear what you saw of him during the recent fighting."

The man, an ordinary-looking private, stepped forward and saluted.

"I only saw him for a moment, sir," he said, slowly, and with a marked reluctance. "I was riding behind Lieutenant Devereux when I saw him leave his company and pass us a few yards to the left. It struck me that he looked very pale, and I thought that perhaps he was wounded."

"He did not leave his company to come to your master's assistance, then?"

"Certainly not, sir. We were not in any need of it. None of the enemy were near us."

"Thank you. You can go, Hilton."

The man saluted and went.

There was a dead silence for a full minute. Then there came a passionate, hysterical cry from the prisoner--

The man appealed to shook his head slowly and as though with great reluctance. The sigh seemed to madden the prisoner, and he made a sudden movement forward as though to spring at him.

"Oh, this is horrible!" he cried. "Where is Fenwick? He saw it all. Let him be called."

General Luxton glanced again at the list before him and looked up.

"You are unfortunate in your selections," he said, dryly. "The evidence of Hilton and your brother, to whom you appealed, only strengthens the case against you. Fenwick is missing. Herbert Devereux," he went on sternly, "the charge against you has been proved. I, myself, at a most critical moment, saw you desert your post when it was the centre of attack, and it fell to another's lot to lead your men on to the pursuit. The reasons which you have brought forward to account for your unwarrantable action have been clearly disposed of. You are most certainly guilty of a crime for which, amongst soldiers, there is no pardon. But you are young, and I cannot forget that you are the son of one of the most distinguished officers with whom it has been my good fortune to be associated. For his sake I am willing to make some allowance for you--on one condition you may retain your commission, and, I trust, retrieve this well-nigh fatal mistake in the future. To the crime of cowardice you have added the crime of lying; for that your accountget on very well without breakfast, and you will have the more time to hunt for your father; but remember, my boy, that you are the only one we can depend upon now, and without you we might remain here until we starved."

"I'll take good care not to go so far from the wagon but that I can find my way back; for surely I'll be able to follow on my own trail, if there's no other. Hadn't I better do a little hunting first?"

"Not unless you are very, very hungry, Dick. Food would choke me just now, and there is enough of the bread we baked yesterday morning to give you and Margie an apology for a breakfast."

"I can get along without; you shall eat my share. Now, don't worry if I'm not back until near sunset. The horses are close at hand, and you may be certain they won't stray while the feed is plentiful. Stay in the wagon, even though there is nothing to harm you if you walk around. We must be careful that no more trouble comes upon us; so keep under cover, mother dear, and I'll be here again before night comes."

Dick was not as confident he could follow his father's trail as he would have it appear to his mother; but he decided upon the direction in which he would search, and set bravely out heading due west, knowing he could hold such a course by aid of the sun's position, as his father had often explained to him.

Dick was hungry, but scorned to let his mother know it, and tried to dull the edge of his appetite by chewing twigs and blades of grass.

After walking rapidly ten minutes, more careful as to direction than he ever had been, because of the responsibility that rested upon him, he stopped and shouted his father's name; then listened, hoping to hear a reply.

Save for the hum of insect life, no sound came to his anxious ears.

Once more he pressed forward, and again shouted, but without avail.

He continued on until, seeing the trail made by the wagon when they had come in from the stream, he knew he was very near to the border of the valley.

Surely his father would not have gone outside, because he had said before they arrived that only in the Buffalo Meadows were they likely to find game.

Then Dick turned, pushing on in a northerly direction at right angles with the course he had just been pursuing, and halting at five-minute intervals to shout.

His anxiety and hunger increased equally as the day grew older. Try as he might, he could not keep the tears from over-running his eyelids.

The sun was sinking toward the west before he heard aught of human voice save his own; and then a cry of joy and relief burst from his lips as he heard faintly in the distance his own name spoken.

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