8. RIDERS OF DEATH
CHAPTER 1
Only a few steps more between him and the warden...
Quickly Benecke hesitated in the dark.
In the shadows of the high prison walls his figure stood motionless. His big fists are clenched spasmodically, while he stares at a movement there in the moonlit space in the middle of the prison yard.
Over Klapperkop a cold wind is blowing tonight. It whistles ominously through the sky and rages and tugs through the sugar bushes.
Snel does not move yet. There is only one warden on duty tonight and it is also the first time in the past year that something like this has happened. There are usually five guards on duty at night, but the other men were suddenly called away today. Among the prisoners, it is whispered that it is an order from Uncle Paul. Snel knows the Republic, he knows Njabela and he knows Mapog’s cunning. Unrest has broken out again, the natives are again belligerent somewhere in the Transvaal and therefore Uncle Paul now needs men to suppress the unrest.
It is on a chance like this that Snel Benecke has been waiting impatiently for the past year. Anyone could have seen today that the prison authorities were in a flurry. The prisoners had to notice this and Snel was cunning enough and his ears were therefore pricked up. It was easy to smuggle in a chisel. He did not disclose his plans to any of the other prisoners. The regular parade to search the prisoners did not take place that evening before they went to their cells. Snel had quickly chiseled open the lock on the inside and then freed himself.
And here he now stands in the dark in the interior space of the prison. Tonight his chance has finally come. The single warden with a rifle in his hand has not yet noticed anything wrong.
Snel moves slowly forward. He only needs to strike him one blow, just one tremendous blow against his jaw and without a single groan, the warden must then sink to the ground. And then there are just a few steps, just a few steps between him and the big iron gate that will give him access to the mountains, to the open plains, to the spaces outside and to freedom. Yes, it is just a big iron gate and a distance of more than two hundred miles that separates him from a great treasure. As soon as he lands in Barberton, he can go and collect his fortune and then he can take revenge on the man who is responsible for him being confined behind these high walls for a year already. Field Cornet Frans Verwey will pay dearly!
The other prisoners are apparently still sleeping peacefully. He hears the soft snoring of men in the closed cells shortly behind him. And far below him, at the foot of the Klein Magaliesberg mountains, Pretoria is seemingly in slumber, deep slumber. The night men have extinguished the street lamps one after the other, long ago.
Snel feels the great power and determination pulsing through his body. He must succeed.
The warden suddenly coughed and is now turning around, his face towards the shadows and towards the cells that are dug row upon row under the rocks.
Snel Benecke’s muscles contract. There is a cracking of his stiff limbs and then he springs forward with vigour.
The warden only notices the leaping figure when the blow hits him full and hard against his jaw. His head jerks backwards and he falls-stumbles backwards. He quickly raises the rifle, but it is suddenly leaden in his hands. He sees how the figure approaches again like a furious animal. He realizes that it is one of the prisoners. He wants to scream, but Snel’s sinewy fingers fold like an eagle around his throat. The cry stalls in the warden’s throat, only a sound comes out that sounds like the raw gurgling of a dying man. A second blow lands on his forehead a second later. His
