The glare aggravated the ache behind his eyes, which was a memorial to
last night's drinking.
'Woodgate seems to be holding very well. His reinforcements should be
up to him soon enough.
Sir Redvers, Buller appeared to be satisfied, and none of his staff had
any comment to add. Stolidly they stood and stared through their
glasses at the peak which was now faintly blurred with the dust and
smoke of battle.
Garrick was puzzling once more the devious lines of authority which
Buller had established for the attack on Spion Kop. Comanding the
actual assault was General Woodgate, who was now 'holding very well' on
the peak, yet Woodgate was responsible not to Buller but to General
Charles Warren, who had his headquarters beyond Trichardt's Drift where
the column had crossed. Warren was in turn responsible to Buller, who
was well back behind the river, standing on a pleasant little hill
called Mount Alice.
Everyone on the staff was aware that Buller hated Warren.
Garrick was certain that Warren had been given command of an operation
which Buller considered very risky, so that in the event it failed
Warren would be discredited and goaded into resigning.
Of course, if he succeeded, Sir Redvers Buller was still supreme
Commander and the credit would therefore ac rue to him.
It was a line of reasoning Garrick found easy to follow, in fact, had
he been in Buller's position he would have done exactly the same.
This secret knowledge gave gary a deal of satisfaction, standing beside
Buller on the dope of Mount Alice he felt very much in tune with him.
He found himself hoping that Spion Kop would soon be a bloody
slaughter-house, and that Warren would retreat across the river in
disgrace. He remembered the occasion in the mess when Sir Charles had
referred to him as an 'irregular, and a damned colonial irregular-at
that! ' Garry's fingers tightened on his field-glasses and he glared
out at the mountain He was so deep in his resentment that he hardly
noticed the signaller who came running from the mule wagon that housed
the field telegraph which connected Buller's headquarters with those of
Warren beyond the river.
'Sir! Sir! A message from General Warren. ' The urgency of the man's
tone caught all their attentions. As one man the entire general staff
lowered their glasses and turned to him.
'Let's have it then, my man!' Buller snatched the sheet of notepaper
and read it slowly. Then he looked up at Garry and there was something
in those pale, bulging eyes, a pleasure, a conspiratory gleam that made
Garry almost grin.
'What do you make of that, Courtney? ' He handed the sheet across and
waited while Garry read it.
'Message from Colonel Crofton on the Spion Kop. Reinforce at once or
all is lost. General Woodgate dead What do you suggest. Warren. '
'It seems to me, sir,' Garry spoke slowly, trying to mask the fierce
jubilation he felt, 'that Sir Charles Warren is on the verge of
panic.
' 'Yes, that's the way it looks.' Buller was openly gloating now.
