'Listen, all of you. No one is to fire until the enemy do. That way
we may be able to spin it out a little longer. ' Then less loudly as
he spoke to Eccles. 'Don't run, just walk out casually.' Sean jumped
down the bank and stood between Eccles and Saul. All three of them
peered up at the ridge and saw the Boer reach the crest, wave his hat
and disappear. 'Go!' Sean said, and all of them went.
Eccles, the four volunteers, and Saul. Flabbergasted, Sean stared at
the six of them as they strolled out towards the scotch cart Then his
anger flared. The stupid little bastard, and he went also.
He caught up with them as they reached the scotch cart and in the
strained silence of the suspended storm he growled at Saul: 'I'll fix
you for this!' and Saul grinned triumphantly.
Still there was a puzzled silence from the ridge, but it could not last
much longer.
Together Saul and Eccles slashed at the ropes that held the tarpaulin,
and Sean pulled it back and reached for the gun.
'Take it. ' He passed it to the man behind him. At that moment a
warning shot cracked over their heads.
'Grab one each and run!'
From the ridge and the river came gunfire like a long roll of drums,
and they ran doubled beneath their loads and dodging, back towards the
river.
The man carrying the Maxim fell headlong. Sean threw the ammunition
case he carried, it dropped short of the bank, but skidded forward and
toppled over the edge. Hardly pausing in his run, he stooped and
gathered the fallen Maxim and went on.
Ahead of him first Eccles, then Saul jumped into safety and Sean
followed them with the three surviving troopers.
It was over, Sean sat waist, deep in the icy water with the machine,
gun clutched to his chest, and all he could think of was his anger at
Saul. He glared at him, but Saul and Eccles knelt facing each other
grinning and laughing.
Sean handed the gun to the nearest trooper and crossed to Saul.
His hand fell heavily on his shoulder and he pulled him to his feet.
'You, ' He could not find words cutting enough. If Saul had been
killed out there, Ruth would never have believed Sean had not ordered
it so. 'You fool,' he said and might have hit him, but he was
distracted by the cries from the firing platform beside him.
'The poor bastard!'
'He's up.'
'Lie down, for God's sake, lie down.'
Sean released Saul, jumped up on to the platform and stared through the
loophole in the schranz.
Out in the open the trooper who had carried the Maxim was on his feet.
He was moving parallel to the bank, shambling with a curious idiot
gait, his hands hanging loosely by his sides. They were shooting at
him from the ridge.
Held in the paralysis of horror, none of them went to him. He was hit
and he lurched but tottered on with the Boer rifles hunting him,
