# Shingle-Short and Other Verses/A Conquering Coward

A Conquering Coward.
A Conquering Coward.
(Founded upon a sketch which appeared anonymously in “Country Life,” September, 1903.)
So I saddled-upRangi, and took the despatch, and we gallop’d away Into the veld, and the face of the storm that had gather’d all day. By the white of the first of the in-and-out lightning, I pick’d up the track; Then, a long fusillade of far thunder roll’d round the dense Black.
Rain....Ah, the freshness!....the hightning to guide us, and Rangi’s good stride— Seven miles, and the drift? ’Twould be nothing, a picnic, a holiday ride: And Rangi and I had been chosen, been chosen! I laugh’d with delight (Thunder ahead!) as we gallop’d on, into the night.
Enemy? Probably....There was the chance for our courage and skill. Oho! We that had badger’d the beggars for months, and were visible still, ​Rangi and I, the selected, the champions, the pick of our mob (Thunder, much nearer)—I guess’d we could settle the job!
..Rain, right enough! and the lightning, less frequent, more stabbing and stark.... We were deafen’d and blinded, with uproar and silence, with dazzle and dark, As onward we push’d....It was lonely, a little....Come, Rangi, keep warm! For she hung back a bit; we were nearing the heart of the storm.
Rain, like a water-spout! scouring the skin with an icy cold flood; And now in the Black we could keep to the track by the squelch of the mud. How far had we come? How long had we been—should we be, at this rate? ....If only that battering thunder would let one think straight!
Ah,....what a glitter! Right on it, right overhead, Boom! what a blast! Earth-shaking, ear-splitting, soul-stunning—Save us! how long would it last? ..Right, then my Rangi!....Confound it! Oh, stop it!....Thank Goodness, at length Peace!....And we call a man strong in the face of that Strength?
​..Tingling, dumb, burying Blackness....confusing!....We stuck to our trail, But I wonder’d at times whether Rangi was travelling head foremost or tail. Roar of the rain; but, behind it, the stillness and silence of Death— Or of Something pois’d, ready for pouncing....just pausing for breath....
Ah!....at that flash, Rangi shudder’d all through, she rear’d up, and stopp’d short; I could feel, through the instant, insistent explosion, her terrified snort. But “Oh, there! Hullo, there!” Thick darkness again the lit veld overran, But I’d seen them. Thank Heaven! I’d seen them—a horse, and a man!
Briton, or Burgher? Well, anyway, human!— What’s that?....But the noise Of the rain, on the ground and against us cascading, made off with his voice. So I saw to my rifle (I’d got that dispatch), and then I holla’d, too— Even a Burgher, and lead, would be things that I knew!
Shift position...Then Lightning! the sky-line!—Ay, Boer, sure enough and to spare.... Black....What on earth was he doing, though, sideways like that in the air? ​I dismounted....full cock! Now, then....Lightning! The sky-line they’d stood out upon Sharp again, round again,—empty! Why, where were they gone?
There, yonder heap....taking cover....No! horse must be crushing him....What?.... Goodness knows how I got over to where they were—where they were Not. Blaze, as I started; dense Black as I stumbled, and pretty near fell, Upon—what?....Ah, the horrible softness! Good God! and—the smell!
Horse and man? No! In a second, two lumps of charr’d clay on the veld.... Struck by the lightning! It slash’d out again, as beside them I knelt.... And down again, scourging, stupendously surging, that tyrannous roll Roar’d thro’ my flesh and my blood, thro’ my brain and my soul.
Everywhere, everywhere! pitiless, murderous, mysterious, immense POWER—and, of what It might do, here beside me, the dumb evidence! Shot, I could jest amid: hurts, I was used to: dead men, I had made: But this—O my God, this was different—and I was afraid!
​The Heavens had burst open—and how could I fight them? or where could I flee? They had slaughter’d my fellow,—why should they have mercy or favour for me? In the midst, at the will, at the mock, of the Wanton, the Huge, the Unknown, Helpless, an agonized atom, I cringed there—alone:
And bygone beliefs in a hellish Almighty, the foe of all flesh, Greedy of sacrifice, torturing, jealous, possess’d me afresh— He was! He was here!....Oh, sheer bottomless Terror engulfing me then— Sharper and sheerer be never permitted to men!
..Rangi! She whimper’d, she touched me, God bless her! Oh, comfort and ease Of her breath, of her warmth, of her wonted old flanks in the grip of my knees! A chance! for companions, for Reason, for Life!....Out we shot thro’ the Black, Away from the tempest, away from the Terror—Back! Back!
The Lightning shot after, the Thunder came ploughing and plunging behind.. The Unearthly was on us! ’twould catch us, ’twould have us! On, on, lass, to find Men, and the Little-Things—euchre, tobacco, the sane, commonplace, Everyday details—On!—How I did rowel her, how we did race!
​Till, the speed, and the hope, and the help of the animal nerving me, Thought Tighten’d the rein upon Panic, and Manhood with Creaturehood fought.— We were breasting a rise—half-a-mile from the lines I remember’d it dropp’d— When I check’d her; and there, in the darkness, we slacken’d....and stopp’d....
Before us, Life, shelter, and comrades. ...Behind, the ineffable Dread; And Its trophy, Its victim, Its sinister Warning, the monstrously Dead— Had he glutted It? Maybe, that instant the Imminent Wrath stoop’d to slay— On! On to my fellows.... Good Heavens! and what would they say?
..Vanity: self-esteem: terror of ridicule: wretchedly small! Spokes, none the less, on the wheel of the steering-gear guiding us all! And, God help us! HE made us. And, welcome enough, when you’re nearly aground, Comes a pull on the least of the lot, if it fetches you round....
Death, there behind? The malignant Impalpable, striking unseen?— Ay, but what with them? My duty! Great God, what a skunk I had been! Safety before us, and comrades, and comfort, and shelter—and Shame? Rangi and I wheel’d round, and gallop’d the way we came.
​And I sat myself square; I thrash’d her; I coax’d her and chirrup’d her on— This thing I’d been told-off, ay, chosen to do,—it was going to get done! Coward that I’d been! Ay, but that was a bill could be paid by-and-by. My Message! By God, I would put through that message, or die!
It must still have been storming, for I can remember the snaky, bright path; But I’d got no more time to attend to the fear of Omnipotent Wrath. Back, to the Dead? Ay, and back to the Dread! What was either to me? My duty, beyond them and waiting, was all I could see!
....Gallop, and gallop....Oh, when would we get to them? Streaming with haste, Eagerly seeking them, we that had fled from them gallop’d and raced.... Suddenly! out ’twixt the Need and the Speed, there was one thing stood clear— Fear, that had master’d me,—why, I was Master of Fear!
It was true! Running from them, the Fear that had ridden me, spurr’d me, nor spared, Running right for them,—where was it? As little I knew as I cared! From all care of myself, from all fear of the Power that still menaced and quiver’d, From the False Fear of God, by the True I’d been snatch’d and delivered!
​Ay, that’s what it came to.—The moment I turn’d to be true to my trust. Terror left me. The moment I said in my soul, “It’s my duty: I must,” I could! Ay, the moment I caught with both hands at the thing that was Right, I had caught on to Strength, I was coupled with measureless Might.
And, sole but sufficient, conscious of power, tense, not to be turn’d, Steel, stone, yet with that in my heart which immortally sparkled and burn’d, A conquering coward, assured and triumphant. supreme amid strife— I shall not better that ride all the days of my life!
..A whiff, of burnt flesh! then, a flash! and Hullo! we were so close upon them, An instant, another two bounds, must have landed us bodily on them. It was too much for Rangi—she started, cross’d feet, and came down....Up again— Off! like a shot....But I lay there, alone with the slain....
Ay, his burnt beard was gritting my teeth; she had flung me off full on his breast— Stark and still, poor old chap, where no woman or little ones ever would rest.... ​She was gone? I must tramp, then, and quickly! I roll’d off, and got to my feet— He didn’t! The lightning grinn’d out, and I saw him complete....
Tall, strongly-built: twisted-up....Face? he hadn’t one—Ay, it was bad; But, what shocking and scaring I’d got any use for, I reckon’d I’d had; And things somehow were different: no longer a monster, a warning, a Dread— Just human and helpless he lay there; and lonely; and dead.
What could I do for him, I, his one comrade? Maybe I could send Word for him, somehow, to mother or children, or sweetheart, or friend? Gently I search’d the poor heap....The one bad bit in that was the thought That may be he might have dispatches?—Thank God, though, he’d not:
I hadn’t to rob him, the poor finish’d fellow! A scorch’d pocket-book, That might give his name, and the people to tell, I discover’d and took; Then, I reverently settled him straight as I could, shook his....wrist, for Good-bye; And there I’d to leave him, alone. On! the drift was flood-high, ​But I managed to swim it, my note and his book like grim death in my teeth. On! solid Black, steady rain, up above: slippy slime underneath.... On! On!....till a sentry sang out! I had got there—my message was through! —Dawn, suddenly there in the East, broke the Blackness in two.
* ↑ Rangi: pronounce Ràng-ee.
* ↑ c.f. Emerson: “So nigh is glory to the dust, So close is God to man, When Duty whispers low ‘You rust,’ The youth replies: ‘I can.’”