The Young Colonists: A Story of the Zulu and Boer Wars. Henty George Alfred
to the flag. He took the little stick in his hand to pluck it up; he raised it a foot, and then gave a cry of astonishment and started back.
“What is the matter?” the others asked.
“It was pulled down again,” he said in awestruck tones. “I will swear it was pulled down again.”
“Oh, nonsense!” one of the others said; “you are dreaming.”
“I am not,” the first replied positively; “it was regularly jerked in my hand.”
“Can they be alive down there?” one suggested.
“Alive! How can they be alive after five days, twenty feet deep in the snow? Look at the flag!”
There was no mistake this time; the flag was raised and lowered five or six times. The boys took to their heels and ran and gathered in a cluster fifty yards away on the hill-side.
“What can it be?” they asked, looking in each others’ pale faces.
The behaviour of the flag seemed to them something supernatural.
“We had better go back and tell them at home,” one of them said.
“We can’t do that; no one would believe us. Look here, you fellows,” and he glanced round at the bright sky, “this is nonsense; the flag could not wave of itself; there must be somebody alive below; perhaps there is a shepherd’s hut quite covered with the drift, and they have pushed the flag up through the chimney.”
The supposition seemed a reasonable one, and a little ashamed of their panic the group returned towards the flag. The eldest boy again approached it.
“Go carefully, Tomkins, or you may fall right down a chimney.”
The flag was still continuing its up and down movement; the boy approached and lay down on the snow close to it; then he took hold of the stick; he felt a pull, but held fast; then he put his mouth close to the hole, two or three inches in diameter, through which it passed.
“Halloa!” he shouted; “is any one below?”
A cry of “Yes, yes,” came back in reply. “The two Jacksons and Humphreys.”
“Hurrah!” he shouted at the top of his voice, and his companions, although they had not heard the answer, joined in the cheer.
“Are you all right?” he shouted down again.
“Yes, but please get help and dig us out.”
“All right; I will run all the way back; they will have men here in no time; good-bye; keep up your spirits.”
“They are all there below!” he shouted to his friends. “Come on, you fellows, there is not a moment to lose.”
Wild with excitement the boys made their way home; they rushed down the hill-sides, scrambled through the drifts in the bottoms, in which they sometimes disappeared altogether, and had to haul each other out, struggled up the hills, and, panting and breathless, rushed in a body into Mr Humphreys’ farmhouse, that standing nearest to them, on their way to Castleton.
“We have found them; we have found them,” they panted out. “They are all alive.”
Mrs Humphreys had risen from her seat in a chair by the fire as the boys entered, and uttering a faint cry fell back insensible.
At this moment the farmer, who had but five minutes before returned, having been out since daybreak on the hills, hurried into the room; he was taking off his heavy boots when he heard the rush of feet into the house. “We have found them, sir; they are all alive!”
“Thank God! thank God!” the farmer exclaimed reverently, and then seeing his wife insensible hurried towards her, uttering a shout for the servants. Two women ran in. “Look to your mistress,” he said; “she has fainted; the good news has been too much for her – the boys are found alive.”
With mingled exclamations of gladness and dismay the servants raised their mistress.
“Now, boys, where are they?” Mr Humphreys asked.
The lads gave a rapid narrative of what had happened.
“Under the snow all this time!” the farmer exclaimed; “they must be, as you say, in a hut. Now, will one of you stay and show me the way back, and the others go on to Mr Jackson’s and other places, and bring a strong party of men with shovels on after us?”
The lad who had spoken with the prisoners remained to act as guide, the others hurried off.
“Come with me, my boy, into the larder. There, help yourself; you must be hungry and tired, and you have got to do it over again.”
Mr Humphreys then ran into the yard, and bade the four labourers provide themselves with shovels and prepare to accompany him at once.
He then went back into the parlour. His wife was just opening her eyes; for a time she looked confused and bewildered, then suddenly she sat up and gazed beseechingly at her husband – memory had come back to her.
“Yes, wife, thanks be to God, it is true – the boys are alive; I am just going with these men to dig them out. They are snowed up in a hut. Now, Jane, get a large basket, and put in it lots of bread, and bacon – the men who are working will want something; fill the largest stone jar with beer; put in a bottle of brandy and a bottle of milk, and set to and get some soup ready; bring three small mattresses downstairs and a lot of blankets.”
Five minutes later the search-party started, Mr Humphreys and the guide leading the way; the men followed, one carrying five shovels; another, the basket and jar; the other two, three hurdles on which were placed the mattresses and blankets.
It was no easy matter so laden making their way over the hills and through the deep drifts. Mr Humphreys took his share of the labour; but it was two hours from the time when they started before they arrived at the spot where the flag was waving, and the night was already closing in.
Mr Humphreys hurried forward to the flag; he knelt down beside it.
“Are you still alive, Dick? – it is I, your father!”
“Yes, father, we are all alive, and we shall be all right now you have come. Don’t get too near the stick; we are afraid of the hole closing up, and smothering us.”
“Which side is the door,” Mr Humphreys asked, “so that we can dig that way?”
“There is no door, father; but you had better dig from below, because of the wall.”
“There must be a door,” Mr Humphreys said to himself, as he rejoined the men. “There can’t be a hut without a door; Dick must be a little lightheaded, and no wonder. Now, lads, let us set to work from below.”
The five men were soon at work, throwing aside the snow. In a short time the other parties arrived.
Mr Humphreys had brought with him a stock of candles. These were lit and stuck in the snow, where, as there was no wind, they burnt steadily, affording sufficient light for the search. The work was all the more difficult from the lightness of the snow, as the sides fell in like sand as they worked upon it, and they were obliged to make a very broad cutting.
At last there was a cheer, as they struck the ground.
“Now, working up hill we must be at the hut in a few feet.”
Twenty willing hands laboured away incessantly, but to their surprise no hut was met with; they worked and worked, throwing the snow behind them, until Mr Jackson struck his shovel upon something hard.
“Here is a wall or something,” he said.
Another minute uncovered a low wall of two feet in height, and directly afterwards a leg was popped up through the snow. A loud cheer broke from the men.
But again the snow-drift fell in from the sides, and it was another quarter of an hour before the lads were lifted from the narrow shelter where they had for five days lain.
The Jacksons were too weak to stand, but Dick was just able to keep on his feet. A cup of milk mixed with some brandy was given to each. Then Dick