Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 4).djvu/574

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580
THE STRAND MAGAZINE.

despatches off. I left the camp alone. Sir Baker Russell suggested my taking an orderly. But I wouldn't. Whenever I meet Sir Baker now he always says: 'Ah! you should have taken that orderly.' I rode six miles from the camp over a sprint, reaching a road which led down a steep hill to a ford. The threatening sky told me to look out for a Cape storm. They rush down upon you with scarcely a warning. I knew the river at the bottom of the road would swell rapidly, so I urged my horse forward down the hill. I got into the middle of the ford just as the storm burst on us in all its fury. A flash of lightning struck the water, my horse reared violently, lost his footing, threw me over his shoulder, and I fell under him. My right leg was caught by the stirrup; my left leg was under the horse's shoulder; his neck lay over my chest, preventing me from rising. There was I on my back, with my head just up, supporting myself with my right hand on the bottom of the river, and with my left jogging the reins to make the poor beast rise—the water slowly rising with the pouring torrents—I was drowning. I could feel the water getting higher and higher—it reached my neck, my chin—when, with almost a dying effort, as my horse struggled up a little, I made an attempt to move my leg, but down he went again. However, the strap of my spur gave way—my right leg was liberated—I was able to raise myself on it and to pull at the horse;s head. My horse got up; I managed to lean on him, and he just carried me to the bank. I tried to get on his back, and down he went again, so with my leg doubled under me I put one hand on his shoulder, and so I crawled on to the house of an old Scotch farmer named Gray. He put me into bed, and rubbed me with 'Cape smoke,' and I found that I had not only lost my helmet, note-books and despatches, but that my leg was useless, with a chance of being lame for the remainder of my days.

"In the morning the headquarters staff rode across the ford, amongst them Lord Wolseley. He called at the farm; Gray told him of my plight, and he came to my side.

"'I thought my last day had come, and that my body would never be found," I said to him.

"'My dear fellow,' was his characteristic reply, 'I would never have left the country until I had found you, and I would have given you a jolly good burial!'"


A Hindu deity.
From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry.

I knocked the ash off my cigar and rose to go.

"But what, Dr. Russell," I asked, "do you consider the most unenviable position in which you were ever placed—in what battle?"

"It wasn't in a battle," he answered, merrily, and laughing happily. "Oh, no! it wasn't in a battle. It was in a bed! When I was accompanying the Prince to India, we stayed at the Palace at Athens. One night the King said to me, 'Do you get up early, Mr. Russell?'

"'Yes, sir,' I replied; 'I generally rise at six o'clock.'

"'Very well, we'll say half-past six tomorrow morning. I want to walk with you in the garden and talk over one or two things.'

"I went upstairs to bed. I couldn't sleep. The mosquitoes bit me to their hearts' content, particularly about the hands and arms. I happened to have a pair of long white kid gloves in my bag. I got up and put them on.

"I awoke in the morning with the knowledge of having somebody by my bedside. It was the King, accompanied by his big dog. It was half-past six! I sat up in bed.

"'In half an hour, Mr. Russell,' said the King, smiling, as he left the room, 'I shall come back for you.'

"At breakfast that morning, during a moment of silence, the King, addressing the Queen, with a sly glance in my direction, said:—

"'Well, I've met a great many dandies in my time, but Mr. Russell beats them all. He actually sleeps in white kid gloves!'"

Harry How.