THE SCOUTING OF DUFFER GROVER

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1678, 27 April 1904, Page 11

THE SCOUTING OF DUFFER GROVER

(By John Dougall Reid.)

“Duffer” Grover was a Warrington man. who*, without 'being an absolute fool, had no. more* gumption than he could just decently do with. In a phya cal sense lie was well enough, and-he could fight like a demon, but all the saline ha was about the last man living wdio should have been sent over the Marri border as a scout.

Nor would he, but for the quite excusable error of an orderly sergeant, who had j uist j aimed frean a lower country station*, and was unacquainted with tho fact that there were two Grovers in the company—Duffer and Bob, the latter one of the most intrepid scouts that • over fired a Hie. If the sergeant could have got the company roll from among the baggage, tlie thing would not have happened, but as he could not, he had to shout for “Grover,” and take the man that answered. Tlie result was that the wrong man was one cf four dispatched that night in darkness and secrecy on about as perilous! am errand as over ignorance faced before. And yet,' as it* turned cut, it was his ignorance that largely went to pull him through. The Mart is are, and always have been, one of the most turbulent and troublesome tribes oil the whole frontier, and at the time of which I am writing they had been “carrying on” in a wa.y than had led to a strong British force of observation being planted; down Closer to them than they at. all thought necessary. And—it might be cause and effect —the very night, of its arrival a lob of its scock, including the commander’s favourite horse, a splendid bay, had been stolen. • Colonel Carew’s temper was none of the best a.t any time, but as he could * not directly prove that tho thieves wore Marris, he had just to bottle up and waist for a dhanoa to get even. The bottle nearly burst, though, when tlie Marris sent down a oleaginous and eke odoriferous, chief next day to pay.theiir respects and hope the Commander Sahib was well in health. The Commander Sahib didn’t say much. about , hia health, but ha said o lot about the Marris, and tho chief went away exceeding sorrowful, albeit- with his tongue in Ill’s cheek. Then as soon as the colonel had cooled down, he determined to find out what was really going on on the other side of the border by aid cf scouts.

Tine four men had been quietly passed through the sentry chain about nine o’clock, and in accordance with their instructions had'separated -uii-mediateiy, eo preventing anything of the nature of conversation, by which the blunder affecting till© wrong Grover would have been at onoe discovered. It was not till at least an hour afterwards that truth touched Bab, who had aid one while been slumbering in bis tent. Ho was stall slumbering when the oodour-sergeant came in at "First- Post” —and then his dreams were very rudely disturbed indeed. ‘“Good God!—Grover! What—” and as the nature of., the mistake that had been made dawned on the speaker, words failed lum altogether. “Grover!” echoed another Voice in aocents of consternation. “Is this man's name Grover, too ?” Tlhe second speaker was the orderly sergeant, who had just entered with the duty roster. “What, on earth’s up?” asked Bob, looking from the one to the other in amazement; an amazement which the otherr half-dozen men in the tent fully shared.

The col our-sergeant was about to answer, then checked himself. “Finish telling off,” he .said to his brother non-com., “and then come with, me to the sergeant-major. You. too Bob. This must! bo reported! at once.” Tlio order was .quickly obeyed, and tilipn the throe left the tent, the others remaining to surmise and wonder. On the way the colour-sergeant enlightened the other two as to 1 the cause of

this ecxcdtementj and! the regret and concern of both was extreme. Of all living mem, the one who had hem despatched was the least fitted for the task that 'had) been set him, and the, face of " the orderiy-sergeamt whitened} at the thought that he had unwittingly sent the poor fellow to his death. But he could not feel that he had’ been to blame .—indeed, in the circumstances, it would have been difficult* to justly ' attach blame to anybody. . In about half an hour more Bob was back ‘at Ms tent. He entered hastily, but instead of turning in, lit the lamp hanging from the . .pole and! began to don his accoutrements. “What’s afoot, Bob?” asked one of the men, none of whom were yet asleep. “Anything serious the matter ?” “Matter enough, blimy,” be replied ‘as he went on swiftly with his preparations. “By some bally blunderin’ or other they’ve sent poor Buffer over the Manri line as a scout.” “No!” “Rats!” “Get out!” were some of the exclamations with which his communication was received. One or two, indeed, seemed inclined! to laugh, but the seriousness on Bob’s face gradually compelled belief. “Poor beggar,” said one, at length. “It’s ’is throat cut, for sure.” “Good for him if that’s the worst,’ said Boh. “What I’m afeard on is that he may blunder into their hands alive, and then- ” The sudden pause was full of deadly significance, and several of the men shuddered 1 . _ . “I’m goin’ out after him,” continued Bob. “He knows no- more of such work than a kid, so he Can’t have gone far. even if he has had an hour’s start. I know the way he was told tot go, and may catch him up yet.” “An’ if you don’t?” “Then I’H lay out the worth of him in Marrds afore liiorniin’,” replied Bob, between his clenched teeth. “And now I’m off. Put out the light, somebody. I’ve no time.” “Won’t you take your rifle ?” was the question shouted after him. “Not for ‘a job like this-—I want to run as light as possible. I’ve a revolver and my bayonet'.” And with this answer he was gone. Meanwhile Buffer was making Ms way > towards the land of sudden death as rapidly as utter ignorance of the country would admit of. He was in, a philosophic, not to say tranquil, frame of mind, having an idea that he would prove quite a success as a'seeker after information. The darkness bothered ham very much, the broken nature of the country a good deal, the chances of a fight not at all. But then Jhis notions of fighting were founded wholly on fighting, with civilised beings} not fiends from the pit,—and that made all the difference. He had been quite three bomb at th) : s blind-man’s-buff budinees, going he knew" not where, when he came to the edge of a deep cleft, or gorge in the side of the hill he was laboriously ascending. The thing confronted him so suddenly that only for the now brightened splendour of the stars, he would have walked straight into it. For some minutes he stood considering, then decided to follow its edge in the hope of reaching its end, or at least some point at wliioh lie could get across. So he started, after dropping one or two chunks of rook into the gulf and making noise enough to wake the dead. He wanted to sea how deep it

was. He had not gone ten yards _ before, ■ndtih a suddenness that made his heart Jump in his breast, his arm® ,were seized by two dim, silent figures that seemed to ’him to have literally sprung up out of the earth,. Then, as they made their grip sure, his captors simultaneously •broke into a low laugh of satanier den rison.

But though Duffer could not scout for nuts, he could fight- for half-a-dozen 1 , as the pair of two jubilant M,arris speedily discovered. With a sudden convulsive movement, lie threw himself backward, the while bringing his right knee almost up to his chest. Then his foot shot out with terrific force, and the iron-shod hoot heel, catching his righthand assailant fulil in the stomach, promptly hurled him over the Clift. As he went the luckless grabbed wildly at his companhm, tearing away a goodly portion of tj|at worthy’s raiment, and throwing him down in addition- Beforei he could .rise', Duffer, now twice as lively as quicksilver, unslung rifle, and with a furious sidelong blow, sent him after his associate. From first to last the affair had been but a matter of seconds, and: the most appalling thing about it was the absence of n£e. Except for the dull crash of blows and quick dink of the soildier’s feet on the stones,, the whole came and went like a conflict of phantoms. It took Duffer some time to recover bis breath, while his former careless confidence he did not recover at all. The thing had born© in upon bim the value of cauti on , and “Mr the first tim e efrnoo 'he set out he began to understand in a dim way the nature of the dangers by which he was Many men in such a position would have turned back, but that did hot occur to him. He had been sent for information, and •b yet he had got none, except, perhaps, )bat the hill gorges were very deep,

and that two Mania bad died suddenly during the night. Going on again, but in more careful fashion, he finally rounded the cleft, and gained the top of the hill. From thence what looked like a boundless lake of blackness seemed to stretch below, only relieved at one point, some tnree miles distant, where a dull red light shone, like the glow of hidden fire on rocks. Towards this he resolved to make his way, and want cautiously down into the valley, trusting to the darkness to hide him, and quite unaware that the darkness as he saw it. and as the careyed! Marris saw it, were two veiy different things. # Stilll less was he aware that the boldest scout on the frontier 1 would have gone ten miles round rather than cross that valley in the dark, and that hie should have done so. not once, but twice, without being detected, came as near to being a miracle as this, age may expect to see. That particular vale was the first defensive line of the Mauri country, and was never without sAvarms of keen-sighted watchers. But, then, it is possible that the very madness of such an undertaking on. the part of an enemy really led the Marris to discount it, Avitih a resulting slackening of vigjiliamoe on their part. At any rate, the fact remains that Buffer Grover did what no other man Avould have dreamed of doing, and that without once thinking he AA r as doing anything unusual. At last, after what, seemed to him an interminable approach, interminable in point of time, that is, he reached the neighbourhood of the .light. Hero he had to exercise the greatest possible care, as even his not over bright intelligence apprehended the truth that fire in such a place meant Marris near it. So he Avriggled and. craAvled 1 and crept for the best part of an hour, aaid at length gained ia point among some rooks, from which he could see the fire, and what was beyond it. The fire itself Avas burning on the bare ground, and about it were gathered between t-Aventy and thirty Marris, all well armed, as he could! plainly see. From the fact that a number of others AVere constantly coming and going from various directions, he judged that the spot Avas being used as an inf ormal or temporary headquarters. To the right of the fire, as seen from bis position, stood! four or five large buildings or sheds, composed' of wood for the most part-, and all close together. And as he continued to look at them, the object of the coming and going, the fire, the guard, -and everything else became clear. The buildings Aver© stores, from Avhieh arms, ammunition and rations were being served out with promptitude and despatch. Here at last was information, and with a vengeance, too, and Buffer felt that he could boav go back to camp with a dear conscience. But before he started he thought he might as well crawl round to the rear of the sheds and see Avhether he could not pick up any more information.

The task was difficult, and much more dangerous than he ■ himself imagined', but was at length acoompllished. Then, prowling about in the dark, his 'eye wa® all at once attracted by a sudden and bright light shining through a crack in the boarding of one of the, sheds, as though someone inside had lit a lamp. Creeping up, Duffer peered through. The shed, sot far as he could see, was filled with straw, wood, mats, blankets, and stores of a like nature, reaching nearly to the roof, and leaving but a very narrow passage from the, door on the far side up to the end at which Duffer was crouching. But it AVas not the contents of the shed that interested the watcher so much as the doings of a hugei Marri, who stood so close that Duffer could have touched him had the partition been away. He was counting rupees into a bag, and, judging from the tiirne lie, took the sum, total appeared to be a fairly large one. Indeed, lie had not quite finished his task when a voice called from the door, and, hastily looping the string round the bag neck, he put it down and went away, leaving the lamp still burning.

And no sooner had he turned his hack than what he conceived to be a really brilliant idea invaded Duffer’s brain. If he could secure that rupee bag and set fire to the whole caboodle at the same time, he would consider it a good night’s work, on the spoiling the Elgyptian principle. The thought that by such action ho was rendering his own escape all but hopeless, he did not pause to consider.

It was quickly done. The wood was old to the polint of decay, and a vigorous Use of the keen-edged} bayonet soon m adle ia hole big enough for him to thrust his arm through and secure the bag. Then, by fixing the bayonet and thrusting the rifle through the hole, he was able to reach the lamp and tip it over, with the instant result of setting Are to the mass of combustibles around it. .It was well for him that he had fixed his bayonet, though, even in the interests of fire-raising, for just as he was in the act of up from his stooping position, he heard) a sound of running feet, and saw a dark figure mashing at him out of the gloom, caught, too, the glint of starlight on steel. Dropping the bag, he met the on-

coming figure with a deadly thrust, bearing it backward 1 to the earth. Yet even as be fell, the fierce mountaineer got one savage knife-stroke hpoire, severing the soldier’s water-bottle strap and wounding him sharply in the side. It was his second narrow escape, for the night. . > 7 , N arrow or Aviide, he had sense enough to see that that was neither time nor place to think about it. The chink of the dropping rupee bag, and tinkle of the fallen man’s knife had been loud, and might have been heard. Besides, from the smoke pouring from the chinks of the shed walls, he saw that it Avould only be a matter of minutes before the fire burst out. The water bottle was lost, -and he had no time to grope for it., so catching up the bag, and leaving the wound to take care of itself for the instant, he ran softly, teut swiftly, out into the dark, and, making a wide circle, finally reached has old position among the rooks.

Here he only halted long enough to bind up his Avound in a rough way, and then went on again as quickly as passible. It must be now long past midnight, he decided)—near daAvn, m fact—and apart from the wound altogether, he did not wish davlight to surprise him on that side of the hill chain. He had learned something since he came out. and. besides, he could not hope to gather any more “information” that trip. He had covered about a mile. Avhen a distant round of frenzied shrieking and yelling caused him to turn, and look back. The sheds Avere in full blaze, flames and columns of sparks shoe? c.mg up into the sky, that Avas tilling Avith black and coiling smoke, while from all quarters of the valley, rapidly nearing yells and shouts showed that the outlying watchers Avere hastening to aid those who Avere trying to. extinguish the conflagration. And in vieAv of the chance that some of these might, he coming straight towards him, he though t it might be better to conceal himself till tney should pass. It Avas indeed well he did so. for he had not long settled himself lin a hum among some rocks before they were rushing past his retreat, singly, m twos, in threes, in fours—Ail'd, savage figures, with the light of the distant fire falling dimly on their races and their weapons clanking ' as they ran.

When there seemed no. more to. come, he rose to continue his retreat — then stopped, and listened to a sound that seemed to be rapidiy approaonmg from the direction or the fire, the unmistakable pounding of the hoofs of a galloping horse —lit was. Nearer and nearer it came, and then a magnificent horse, unsaddled, unhlridied, riderless and half mad Avith fright and rage, went thundering past into the darkness.

"The Colonel’s bay!” exclaimed Duffer. “That is a stroke of luck, blimy! ’Efe broke loose in the scare, an’s niszh sure to find ’is way into camp. ’Ope them kite® don’t come after ; im, though. It ’ud be ugly for me!” He need not have "been afraid on. that score. With their precious arms and stores in jeopardy, the Marri® were not likely to bother about anything so comparatively insignificant as a horse. The sound of the. pounding hoofs was allowed to die in the windless distance without any sign of pursuit, and, convinced that Ms .apprehensions were groundless, Duffer finally came out of tire hole, and l directed his way towards the hill again. From time to time he looked back, in the hopeful expectation of seeing the Mazing building sent into the sky by tThe explosion of the powder. But no explosion came, from which he concluded that the astute Morris had made the powder their first care. The last, look from the crest of the hill Showed him the fire burning a® steadily as ever, and it was with some slight feeling of disappointment that lie began his descent campward, just as the swift Eastern dawn began to redden the far horizon. As the morning advanced three of the scouts cam© in. They reported great unrest and activity among the Marris, who seemed to be preparing for some big move. They also reported having seen a great fire raging in the Black Valley. “You saw nothing of the two Grovers?” asked the officer in command of the outpost,. was the answer, given in. evident surprise. One Grover they knew in scouting circles, but who was the other?

At that instant one of the sentries gave an excited shout). “What is it, my lad,” asked the officer, hastening to the top of the rise upon which the sentry stood. “It’s Bob an’ Duffer Grover, sir, an’ tjbey’ve got the colonel’s ’or&e l” replied the man.

It was true. Leading the horse by an improvised bridle of straps and belts, with one hand, while he carried an apparently weighty canvas bag in the other, Bob Grover wias seen picking his way down a rock slope at some distance. And on the bay’s back—white, tottery, and altogether done up, sat Duffer. The wound in haS side had been much worse than he had thought it, and the loss of blood had bheri heavy.

By the time they got hi, and Duffer had been helped down, the Colonel, whom the news had meantime reached, • came galloping up.

“"What’s this?” ibe demanded. Whereupon Bob—for Buffer was past speech by this time—-gave a brief account of the latter’s doings—an account listened to by all with amazement. “So,” said the Colonel, eyeing Buffer with a sort of astonished curiosity. “And where did you find him?” “Siftin’ on a rook,, countin’ the rupees in his bag, sir,” said Bob, Avith a twinkle ■in his eye.

“So. Well, have him taken to- hospital. and let his loot go with him. If it is as you say, he deserves ten times as much, for by his "splendid stupidity he has in all probability prevented a rising.” And so, indeed, it turned out.