UP to?'
'What's it to you?' Sean flashed impatiently.
'I'm an officer,' and then Sean recognized the voice and the lanky
figure with a bared sabre in one hand. 'Acheson!'
A second's hesitation before Acheson recognized him.
'Courtney. What are you doing?'
'I'm going up that don ga to attack the Maxim.
'Think you can reach it?'
'I can try.- ' 'Good fellow-off you go then. We'll be ready to support
you if you make it. ' 'See you at the top,' said Sean and ran out
towards the mouth of the don ga
They moved quietly in single file upwards and the guns and the shouting
cloaked the soft sounds of their advance. Sean could hear the voices
of the burghers above them growing closer and louder as they
approached-very close now-on the side of the don ga just above their
heads-then behind them, and they were through.
The doun ga was shallower here, starting to flatten out as it neared
the crest. Sean lifted his head above the side and looked out.
Below him he could just make out the lumpy shapes of the Boers in the
grass but their rifles threw long orange spouts of flames when seen
from above-while the British replies were mere pinpricks of light from
around the dark tangle of coaches.
Then Sean's attention focused on the Maxim and he could see why the
rifle-fire from below had made no effect on it. Sited just below the
crest of the ridge on a forward bulge of the slope, it was protected by
a scharnz: of rock and earth that had been thrown up in front of it.
The thick water-jacketed barrel protruded through a narrow opening and
the three men that served it crouched low behind the wall.
-Come on,' whispered Sean, and wriggled -up out of the don ga on to his
belly to begin the stalk.
One of the gunners saw him when he was a few yards from the gun.
'Magtig! Pasop, daars 'n- ' and Sean went in with the rifle clubbed in
both hands and the man never finished his warning. Mbejane and Saul
followed him in, and for a few seconds the emplacement was filled with
a struggling mass Of bodies. Then it was over and the three of them
panted heavily in the stillness.
'Do you know how to work this thing, Saul?'
'No. ' 'Nor do I' Sean squatted behind the gun and settled his hands
on to the twin grips, his thumbs automatically resting on the
firing-button.
'Wat makeer june daar bo? Skiet, man, skeet!' a Boer shouted from
below, and Sean shouted back,
'Wag maar 'n oomblik-dan skeet ek bedonderdWites daar? Who's that?'
The Boer demanded and Sean depressed the gun.
It was too dark to use the sights, so he took a vague aim over the
barrel and thrust his thumbs down on the button. Immediately his
shoulders shook like those of a man using a jack hammer and he was
deafened by the harsh beat of the gun, but he swung the barrel in a
low, sweeping arch across the ridge below him.
