The Sound of Thunder (9 page)

“None. But we found a ferryboat on the bank with the bottom knocked out of it. That could be the excuse for marking a ford on the map. ” “So now you can go and tell your beloved Colonel the glad tidings.” Saul grinned. “But one gets you five that it has no effect.

My guess is that Buller will attack Colenso within the next two days.

He might just be able to get a couple of thousand men across that bridge, then we’d have a chance. ” Tim regarded him balefully. “And the Guides will be the first across. All very well for you. The Rabbi has reduced your target area considerably-but what about us?

“But it’s marked on the map,” protested Lieutenant-Colonel Garrick Courtney. His head bowed so that Tim could see the Pink scalp through the furrows the comb had left in his sandy brown hair.

“I’ve seen dragons and sea monsters marked on maps, Sir, Tim answered, and Garry looked up at him coldly with pale blue eyes.

“You’re not paid to be a comedian, Curtis.” “I beg your pardon, Sir,” and Garry frowned. Curtis could make the

“Sir” sound like an insult.

“Who did you send?” he demanded.

“I went myself, Sir. ” “You could have missed it in the dark.

“If there is a ford there, it would have a road or at least a path leading down to it. I wouldn’t have missed that, Sir.

“But in the darkness you could have been mistaken,” insisted Garry. “You might have missed something that would be obvious in daylight.”

“Well, Sir … “Good. ” Briskly Garry went on. “Now, the bridges. You say these are still intact.

“Only the road bridge, but. .

“But what?”

-The men I sent report that the hills beyond the river are heavily defended. Almost as though the bridge has been preserved to bait a trap.”

-Curtis.” Deliberately Garry laid his paperknife upon the map before him. His nose was too large for the space between his eyes and when he pursed his lips this way he looked, Tim thought, like a bird-a sparrow, a little brown sparrow.

-Curtis”, Garry repeated softly. “It seems to me you have very little enthusiasm for this business. I send you out to do a job and you come back with a long list of excuses. I don’t think you realize how important this is.”

chirp, chirp-iittie sparrow. Tim smiled secretly and Garry flushed.

“For instance. Who did you send to reconnoitre these bridges-reliable men, I hope?

“They are, sir.

“Who?”

“Friedman.

“oh! The little Jewish lawyer. A wise choice, Curtis, a commendably wise choice. Garry sniffed and picked up the paperknife.

my God! Curtis marvelled. He’s a Jew-baiter as well, this little sparrow has all the virtues.

“Who else did you send?”

“A new recruit.”

“A new recruit? A new recruit!” Garry dropped the knife and lifted his hands in appeal.

“I hhappen to have worked for him before the war. I know him well, sir. He’s a first-class man, I’d trust him before anyone else you could name. In fact, I was going to ask you to approve his promotion to sergeant. “And what is the name of this paragon?”

Funnily enough its the same as yours, sir. Although he tells me you’re not related. His name is Courtney. Sean Courtney, Slowly, very slowly, the expression of Garry’s face altered. It became smooth, neutral. Pale also, the lifeless, translucent paleness of a corpse’s face. All life died in his eyes as well-theY were looking inwards, back into the secret places of long ago.

The dark places. They saw a small boy climbing a hill He was climbing up through thick brush, young legs strong beneath him.

Climbing in deep shade, with the smell of leaf mould and the soft murmur of insects, sweating in the heat of a Natal summer’s morning, eyes straining ahead through the dense green foliage for a glimpse of the bush buck they were hunting, the dog leaning eagerly against the leash and the same eagerness pumping in his own chest.

The dog barked once, and immediately the brush and stir of a big body moving ahead of them, the click of a hoof against rock, then the rush of its run.

The shot, a blunt burst of sound, and the buck bleating wounded as it thrashed through the grass, and Sean’s voice high and unbroken: “I got him. I got him first shot! Gary. Gary! I got him, I got him! ” Into the sunlight, the dog dragging him. Sean wild with excitement, running down the slope towards him with the shotgun.

Sean falling, the gun flung from his hands, the roar of the second shot and the blow that knocked Garry’s leg out from under him.

Sitting now in the grass and staring at the leg. The little white splinters of bone in the pulped flesh and the blood pumping dark and strong and thick as custard.

“I didn’t mean it … Oh God, Garry, I didn’t mean it. I slipped.

Honest, I slipped. ” Garry shuddered, a violent almost sensual spasm of his whole body, and the leg beneath the desk twitched in sympathy.

“Are you all right, sir?” There was an edge of concern on Tim’s voice.

“I am perfectly well, thank you, Curtis.” Garry smoothed back the hair from his temples. There were deep bays of baldness there and his hairline was frayed and irregular. “Please continue. ” “Well, I was saying-it looks like a trap. They’ve left those bridges because …

” “It is your duty to collect information, Curtis. It is the duty of the general staff to evaluate it. I think that completes your report?

Good, then you may leave. ” He must have a drink now, already his hand was on the handle of the drawer.

“Oh, Curtis.” His voice croaked with the terrible dryness in his throat, but he spoke on through it. “That promotion you spoke of is approved. Make the man a sergeant.”

“Very well, sir.

“Of course, in the event of a frontal assault on the bridges he will act as guide for the first attack.

“Sir?”

“You see the need for it, don’t you?” Tim had never heard this wheedling tone from him before. It was almost as though he wanted Tim’s approval. As though he were trying to justify his decision. “I mean, he knows the bridges. He’s been over them. He’s the one who knows them, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And after all, he’s a sergeant. I mean, we should send someone with rank-we can’t just send anybody.”

“I could go, Sir. ” I

“No. No. We’ll need you at the ford.

“As YOU wish. “You won’t forget, will you? You will send him, won’t

YOU?

Almost pleading now.

“I’ll send him,” agreed Tim and stooped out of the tent.

Garry jerked open the drawer and his fingernails scrabbled on the rough wood in their haste to find the flask.

To General Sir Redvers Buller, V. C. Officer Commanding, British Expeditionary Army of Natal At Chievely December 19the 1899 Sir, I have the honour to report that in accordance with orders received a reconnaissance was carried out by officers and men of the Natal Corps of Guides on the night of December 18th.

The results of which are set out below: Ford marked

“A ” on attached Map: Although the ford promises passage for a large body of men, it is difficult to locate in darkness and a night crossing is not recommended.

Bridge marked -B ” on attached map: This is a road bridge of metal construction. At present it is undamaged, probably due to its sturdy construction resisting demolition by the enemy.

Bridge marked

“C ” on attached Map: This is a railway bridge also constructed of metal, but has been demolished by the enemy.

General: Limited penetration of area beyond the Tugela River by elements of the NCG revealed the presence of the enemy on the hills marked

“D” and

“E.” However, no evidence of artillery or excessive force was noted.

Courtney G.” Lieutenant-Colonel Officer Commanding NCG, In the Field.

EXTRACT MADE FROM THE BATTLE ORDERS OF GENERAL SIR RED VERS BULLER

VC. MADE AND SIGNED ON THE NIGHT OF DECEMBER 19TH 1899.

The force commanded by Brigadier Lyttleton will advance on and capture the village of Colenso. Thereafter it will seize and cross the metal bridge, and drive the enemy from the kopjes on the far bank.

(See attached Map. They lay in the grass, side by side, and the dew had soaked through the backs of their tunics. The night was still and silent.

No clouds above and the fat stars were very bright. Ahead Of them the silver smear of the Milky Way threw the silhouette of the Tugela heights into bold relief, gave it an aspect of brooding menace.

Saul yawned loudly, and immediately Sean was forced to do the same. Though they had not slept that night, it was not the weariness-but the symptom of nerves wound tight at the prospect of going in against the Boer guns …

“Another hour and a half until dawn,” Saul whispered, and Sean grunted. There was no profit in counting the hours. At forty-seven minutes past six the sun would rise, and from behind them the British Army would move forward across the brown grass plain.

Once more Sean rose to his knees and swept the ground before them with his eyes, letting them move slowly along the bank of the TUgela, picking up the loom of the steel road bridge a hundred paces ahead of them, accounting for each bush on this bank, that they had not multiplied or moved. Then satisfied, he sank down again. 7,

“My God, it’s cold! ” He could feel Saul shivering beside him.

“It will warm up quite soon.” Sean grinned in the darkness as he answered. The clear night sky had allowed yesterday’s warmth to escape, the grass and their clodung were wet, even the steel of the rifles was painfully cold to touch-but Sean had long ago learned to ignore physical discomfort. He could, when necessary, lie completely motionless while tsetse flies settled on his neck and sank their red-hot needles into the soft skin behind his ears. Nevertheless, it was a relief when the false dawn showed and it was time to move.

“I’ll go in now,” he whispered.

“Good luck! I’ll have breakfast ready when you come back.

This was a job for one man. A job that Sean did not relish.

They had made certain that there were no enemy on this side of the river, now at the last minute when it was too late for the Boers to alter their dispositions-someone had to cross and find out in what strength they were holding the bridge. A couple of Boer Maxims sited to command the bridge at short range, or even demolition charges set ready to blow, would mean that the chances of success instead of being slim would be non-existent.

Sean slung his rifle across his back and began crawling forward through the grass. TWice he stopped to listen briefly, but there was little time-true dawn in an hour. He reached the bridge and lay in its heavy shadow, staring across at the far bank.

Nothing moved. In the twilight the kopjes loomed like the backs of dark whales in the grassy sea. He waited five minutes-long enough for a restless sentry to fidget-still nothing.

“Here we go,” he whispered aloud, and suddenly he was afraid. For an instant he did not recognize the sensation, for he had experienced it only three or four times in his life, but never with so little cause. He crouched beside the steel girders of the bridge, with the weakness in his legs and his belly full of the oiliness. It was only when he caught the taste of it at the back of his throat, a taste a little like that of fish oil mixed with the effluence of something long dead, that he knew what it was.

I’m afraid. His first reaction was of surprise, which changed quickly to alarm.

This was how it happened. He knew it happened to other men. He had heard them talk of it around the camp fires, remembered the words and the pity underlying them.

“Ja, his gun boy led him back to camp. He was shaking like a man with fever, and he was crying. I thought he was hurt.

“Daniel, I said,

“Daniel, what is wrong?” ” “It broke,” he said with the tears running into his beard. “It broke there in my head, I heard it break. I threw the gun away and I ran. ” “Did he charge, Daniel?“I asked.

“No, man. I didn’t even see him, just heard him feeding close by in the cat bush Then it broke in my head and I was running. ” “He was no coward. I had hunted with him many times, seen him kill an elephant from a charge so that it fell close enough to touch with the gun-barrel.

He was good, but he had lived too close to it. Then suddenly it broke in his head. He hasn’t hunted again. ” I have accumulated fear the way an old ship collects barnacles and weed below the water-line, now it is ready to break in me also-Sean knew. Knew also that if he ran now, as the old hunter had run, he would never hunt again.

Crouching in the darkness, sweating in the cold of dawn with the iciness of his fear, Sean wanted to vomit. He was physically sick, breathing heavily through his open mouth, the warm oiliness in his belly coming close to venting itself, so weak with it that his legs began to tremble and he caught at one of the iron girders of the bridge for support.

A minute that seemed like an eternity, he stood like that. Then he began to fight it, bearing down on it, stiffening his legs and forcing them to move forward. Consciously he checked the relaxation of his sphincter muscle-that close he had come to the ultimate degradation.

He knew then that the old joke about cowards was true. And that it applied to him also.

He went up on to the bridge; picking up each foot deliberately, swinging it forward, laying it down and moving the weight of his body over it. His breathing was deliberate, each breath taken and expelled at the command of his brain. He couldn’t trust his body now to perform even the simplest task-not after it had betrayed him so monstrously.

Had they been waiting at the bridge, the Boers would have killed him that morning. Without caution he paced slowly down the centre of it, big and heavily moving in the starlight and his footsteps rang on the metal.

Under his feet the metal gave way to gravel. He was across.

He kept walking, down the middle of the road, following the gentle curve towards the dark hills.

He walked on with his terror and the sound of it roared in his head like the sound of the sea. The sling of his rifle slipped from his shoulder and the weapon clattered into the road. He stood for a full minute before he could gather himself to stoop and pick it up.