SHORT STORY.

Otago Witness, Issue 2331, 3 November 1898, Page 50

SHORT STORY.

JOHN REBRUTH, COWARD, V.C. I. I, John Redruth, colour-sergeant in her Majesty's — tb Eegimsnt of Foot, wish to rid my mind of a heavy shadow which oppresses it. In the commencement — that which went before concerns nobody — I was known to a very small world as Private Redruth, of the above regiment, chiefty remarkable for uncommon muscular strength and chances of promotion. The principal grounds for this were good conduct and hard study, and neither red steel nor singing bullets ever entered my thoughts, for such things are uncommon at Aldershot except in the course of drill and musketry practice. Yet I now have a little iron cross, marked " For Valour," which I dare not wear, for the sight of it drives the hot blood to my face for shame, and-I keep it stowed away in a remote corner of my belongings. While in the old days I would sit on a bench in the park and think upon the great gift of inbred bravery that I felt was born in me, and how study and pluck at the front combined phould brine it to 1/he fore. And

then the big flashing eyes and chestnut hair of Millie Stornoway would loom up through the background of smoky skirmishing line or silent exam. -room that I pictured. Millie and I had known each other for 15 years, though she was only 18 and I 23. When my leave was in force I always walked with Millie under the shade of the great elms, and, as the humour struck me, we would talk of my pi-ospective move in the scale as lance-corporal, and after it, fullyfledged sergeant, to say nothing of the ultimate commission which should be mine. Millie, above all things, worshipped bodily pluck, and it's little chance a branded coward would have stood with her. We were jto be married when my corporal's stripes came along. But presently came the order for India and the frontier. We were a seasoned corps, and I tried to feel that the real game of war would be the very thing I should like best, but; somehow there was a cold doubt at the back of it all. Millie was tearful at the news, and yet very proud that I should have ths great chance I needed. She was a soldier's daughter as well as a private's betrothed, and knew what possibilities there were in action. " I know you'll do something splendid, Jack," she said, and hei face was like a June rainbow between smiles and tears, " and it won't be only for yourself, but for another man, shot or cut down, and helpless." "Of course, Millie," I agreed ; " but suppose I'm the man who's shot or cut down. You won't throw me up for the fellow that makes a show by saving me, eh?" "I'll like you better for being a real live martyr," said she. Well, the day came, and we marched down to the docks through lines of enthusiasts who cheered vastly, either because they were glad to see the last of us, oi because they were about to get something for their money at length. I had no doubt at the time but that they were struck with our obvious pluck. We filed across the gangway, stowed ; ourselves aboard the trooper, and it wasn't long before the old tub had bustled out of docks and was sousing eastwards through Long Reach. The voyage out was like other voyages. We landed eventually at Bombay, and were nofc impressed greatly by the soft eastern luxury of the place. Still, white dust and shouting have their good points when one is young enough not to mind them, and we slept uneasily in the dry heat that night. There was to be no rest, for we were needed at the front, and two days only j were spent in preparation. Parade was not all it might have been so far as enjoyment went, for the gravelly barrack yard and thirsty air were unlovely. On the third day we marched. On the fourth day we marched farther, and so on. The old hands knew where we were going and what would happen, and they talked of it unceasingly, while the raw hands like myself listened with infinite eagerness. The Afghans — Pathans we called them — would not come and be killed, but relied on long-range fire at all periods. Before the big fight I communed with my inner self many times, and was forced to decide that I was not enjoying it as much as I ought. The promotion' seemed a little thing in comparison with a whole skin, and the slugstricken " cases " that long-range picketing involved unsteadied me. I felt, too, that I was alone, and that the others were untroubled by these first patches of red. So I sat tight and tried not to turn all colours when a ragged piece of lead flacked through the lent cloth after dark, or a stricken mule lashed and squealed without. I did not sleep that night, and when the morning came I dressed unhappily. The starch was out of my system, and I felt but half a man, and not one-fifth a soldier. \ By-and-bye it was " Fall in !" and after the usual manner we — the left flank — tramped out in close order, and at last saw the enemy positioned like a rookery in a sort of vast pulpit of rock, sputtering with jets of rifle smoke, and drawing a fence of flying lead across the broad path. J The subaltern on my side — a slim boy of 23 — looked genuinely happy, and also not a ' little impatient. The entire events of my life did not pass in array before me, as I suppose they should have done ; but my thought? and eyes centred on the white jets that spurted from those hillmen up the slope. We lay down in open order and waited. Presently some volleys were fired — at first a little ragged, and afterwards very even indeed. At length an unsuspected body of Pathans whirled out like a cloud of leaves flrom a cranny in the cliffs — big, bearded, and holding ghastly knives. The order came for volleys, and the standing corps poured wall after wall of lead into the thick of the runners. It did not stop them, though quite half a hundred rolled over like shot rabbits, and the remnant closed up with us. 11. And then — how it happened, I do not know — : we divided, and there was a yelling, flashing scuffle among the rocky teeth that jagged the ground. There were dropping men and standing men, a few flying Pathans, and more that would never move again. For all hurt I had a slight cut on the back of the hand — made by a comrade most likely — and was hiding — Heaven forgive me ! — hiding like a scorched kitten between two overhanging cliffs of rock. I had dashed there, caring for nothing but the safety of my hide, as soon as these yelling fiends reached us, and it was little to me at the time whether any of the corps saw me or not. It was unlikely that they bad, for there was no time to note who ran or who stood his ground. Near me, 30ft beyond, lay the man who nacl been my next but one in tho ranks, and there is no need to say what he looked like. He was dead. Stiff, too. was the young subaltern, not 15ft away — it's odd how one notices small details at such times. I felt no shame, only a longing to be yet safer. The remaining Afghans were scudding back lo shelter, and the company, wich had chased them for a short while, was now in cover 300 yds away to the left. Presently there loomed a sight on my left that made me shiver and crouch against the iron rock like a squatting partridge. A little band of Pathans were nimbly running v,« in, jny direction^ Martinis slumr to theit.

backs, knives in hand, and evidently hoping for plunder from stray bodies or camp-fol-lowers. They did not see me, but I could not" hope for further concealment. I saw the lowering sun flash on one of the long knives, and looked back at the ring of lead on the dancing plain. On either hand there was as certain death as a man could meet with, and my blackened lips cracked as the cold sweat broke from my forehead. Then I looked at the body of the young subaltern, at the stealthy devils behind me, and anew at the deadly bullet-zone outside 1 . I stole out and picked up the boy. He wag nothing of a weight in such arms as mine, and I slung him at my back, and looked for the last time at the leaping dust. Ihe range was extreme ; his body would easily stop the plunging lead, and I dashed oub with a short, beastlike cry that haunts my sleep even now, and spun away through the fire-zone. Plut ! wut ! plack ! sang the bullets round my twinkling legs, Tind one hurtled so clusc to my forehead that the wind of it was painful ; but I kept the subaltern's burly between me and the hillmen, and ran through the belt of lead like a charmed man. As I tore along I listened for the smack of lead against the corpse, and wondered if it might by any chance rip through. There was safety with the regiment, and I could see men standing among the rocks and dimly buzzing with cries. Of the shame that was to be mine I cared nothing at tbo time ; towards the last one thought struck ire—might it mean court martial and shooting at the hands of my ovn corps? At last I dashed among the n:en, and a wild pandemonium of cheers "whirled round me. I saw the black rooks and red tunics spin round and rcmnd, and sank to the ground with the body in my arms. When cons-'ciousress came back I was under cover of a strip of canvas, and the first voice I heard was the surgeon's. " He'll do ; nothing the matter," was tho veitlict. And as I looked round for the. stern faces that should reflect my shame, I sorrowed for a while that I had ever seen the light. But they wore not the.-c. The surgeon shook me boisterously by the band, and babbled something I did not tear. They let me get upon my feat, and, without, a posse of my own corps pressed round. My own particular chum came to the fore. " He's all right, mate," said that worthy ; "you've look your chance, Jack, and there's nowt bufc grit in you, as I ahvays said. Straight, I'd liefer be you than be colonel, so I would ! " "Who's all right?" I stuttered, for I was very dozed, and this reception unstrung me. " Why. young Rathesley," snorted my chum. " What ails you, man? 'Deed, Jack, but you're as sure o' the Cross as I Dm o' the cut across my forearm." I had not noticed that Pete's arm was bound with many folds of lint. I very nearly dropped again under the reaction. I, the slinking coward, who Ii:;cl thought of nothing but my own hide was a hero worthy of the greatest soldierly distiaction Great Britain could bestow^ and it would come to my part to figure as a man for any corps to be proud of, insi-tad of a bringer of blackest shame upon my own. And for the first time I dared to think of Millie again. But somehow I wasn't any happier than before — or very little. It was two days before we took the field in earnest again, and I stepped out with the* rest — a weary march it was. But I walked with a new step and a new heart, and when we had struggled over the broken ground, and. the snipers' slugs came zipping down from above, I felt nothing but a yearning to feel my own steel bite through the shooters. Later came the thudding, sickening blow of a bullet in the shoulder, and I fell like a tower With the shock half my misery of mind departed ; but there was still a weight of depression behind. I lay in hospital three weeks, and bitter three weeks were they to me. Scores of friends came to see me, and tortured me with references to the "bravo deed " that was mine ; and if ever a man was heavily punished it was I. I did not dare write horne — not even to Millie. In course of time I was invalided back to England, and I had to face her whether I would or no. "I knew you'd do it, Jack," she lisped, as we stood on the quay ; " and I wouldn't change you for Wellington." I don't know what I said. The whole term of home-coming seems a blue-grey mist to me — away to the time when a glorious little woman in black pinned an iron cross to- my breast as I stood at rigid attention wifh three others. Millie and I have been married a year now, but I haven't left the army. There ring wars and rumours of wars from day to day, and I, John Redruth, am awaiting the time when I may win back the other half of my lost honour. — Answers.