Chapter Ten.

Chapter Ten.Running the Gauntlet.Under other circumstances I should have leaped down from my horse and crouched; but my leg had grown still and cold, so I sat perfectly motionless, trying to make out some plan of action I might follow out. To my dismay, the Boers had been quicker than I had given them credit for, and had, so to speak, shut the principal gate in the huge wall which in that particular part closed in their country from Natal. The man I had seen was doubtless one of their outposts, and for aught I knew to the contrary the pass might be held by hundreds of the sturdy burghers, every man a born rifleman. To go back by the way I came meant running into the arms of those who were scouring the country to retake me, while to make a détour and get round to the other side of the opening meant getting farther into the Boer country, the more populous part, where their troops would for certain now be on the move.It seemed there was no going backward; and upon turning to look at Joeboy he showed he was of the same opinion. “No go back,” he said; “all Boer. Wait till sun gone.”“And try to steal through the pass then,” I said eagerly, “in the dark?”“Um!” he said. “All dark. No see Boss Val; no see horse.”“But they’ll hear his hoofs. There are sure to be plenty of sentries.”“Um, plenty much Boer. Go soft, soft. Then Sandho gallop.”“And what about you?” I said, as I grasped that he meant we were to steal along softly in the darkness till we were heard, and then that I was to gallop. “What about you?”“Joeboy hold stirrup and run,” he said, with a laugh. “Boer better get out o’ way.”This seemed to be our only road out of the difficulty, and I carefully dismounted, Joeboy leading the horse farther in amongst what was now becoming a chaotic wilderness of stones; and here, pretty well hidden, but quite open to discovery by a wandering party of Boers at any time, we sat down to wait, listening to the steadycrop, crop, as Sandho calmly set to work to improve the occasion on grass.As far as I could make out, the sentry we had seen was about a fifth of a mile distant; but in all probability there were others perched up on the lookout in various points of vantage high on either side of the pass; while those below, I felt sure now, would be in strong force, fulfilling the double duty of preventing English settlers from passing out of the country save as the Boers pleased, and defending the place.“All Boer,” he said, pointing in various directions. “Can’t go. Wait.”“Yes,” I said; “we must wait till it is dark.”“Boss Val wait. Sandho eat and rest,” he said. “Boss lie down.”“No,” I replied. “I must sit here and watch. You lie down now.”“Boss Val lie down,” said the black, shaking his head. “Boer see um.”“Well, they’ll see you,” I said.“Um!” he replied, with a nod. “Only black man. See Boss Val; come and catch um.”It was my turn to nod now, for his meaning was plain. If the Boers saw me, my chances of escape were gone; while if by ill-luck they caught night of him, the probability was that they would not trouble themselves about a solitary Kaffir.“You are right, Joeboy,” I said. “I’ll keep hidden till it grows dark.”“Um!” he said softly; “get dark. Then not see Boss Val. Joeboy go and look how many.”I was about to oppose this part of his plan, but upon second thoughts I did not, but selected a better spot for my hiding-place by creeping among the stones towards where Sandho was grazing, so as to keep him well under my observation for fear he should stray too far, and not be within reach should danger arise. There he was, in a snug nook where the grass grew thickly consequent upon there being suggestions of a trickling spring. The spot was well surrounded, too, by stones, which on three sides fenced him in, and between two of these, and with a larger one to form a support for my back, I settled myself as comfortably as I could, for my leg was still very painful and my arms ached terribly. In fact, I was so weary now the time for action was over that I was quite content to subside, and sit leaning back watching the black while he crawled on hands and knees to Sandho, who suddenly raised his head with a start at Joeboy’s approach; but on seeing who it was, he uttered a low whinnying sound and went on cropping the grass once more, paying no further heed to the black, who proceeded to hobble, his two fore-legs to keep him from going too far, and then returned to me.“No go away now,” whispered Joeboy.“It wasn’t necessary,” I said. “I shall watch him.”“Um!” said the black, and then he pointed in the way he intended to go, laid the shield and two throwing-assagais by me, and then went rapidly off on all-fours, trotting like a huge black dog.I watched till he disappeared among the stones between me and the sentry, and twice I caught sight of him again, or rather, I should say, of his back; but only for a moment or two, and then he was gone, while I let my eyes rest again upon the spot where I had last seen the sentry. Then I watched my horse, and afterwards began to take more note of my surroundings.It did not take long. There were blocks of stone everywhere in the wildest confusion, and among them here and there great straggling patches of unwholesome-looking, fleshily-lobed prickly-pears with their horrible thorns. Now and then, too, were miserable, dried-up karroo-bushes, starved among the great blocks above the rich green hollow where Sandho grazed. Everywhere else was parched loose red sand, and beyond rose up the sterile mountains on either side of the pass.Joeboy knew me better than I knew myself when he hobbled the horse, for as I sat there watching and thinking how solitary it all was, wondering how they were getting on at home, and whether the Boers were really in force by the pass, a pleasant feeling of restfulness came over me, and the mountains in the distance seemed to grow hazy and of a delicious blue; the coarse bushes did not look so dry, nor the sickly prickly-pears so unwholesome and like flat oval cakes of horribly unwholesome human flesh joined together at their edges; while the little patch of pasture where Sandho was feeding appeared to be of an indescribably beautiful tinge of green.“I wonder how long Joeboy will be,” I remember thinking, as I drew my injured ankle across my right knee and began to rub it softly. “He ought to come back soon.”Then I ceased chafing the ankle, for it was very tender, and I wondered how long it would take to get well again, so that I could leap from stone to stone as sure-footed as ever.It was a relief to leave it alone, and I let it glide back till it was outstretched upon the sand beyond the stones, where it lay resting, and the pain began to die out. It was restful, too, for my arms; for as soon as I began to put any strain upon the muscles a peculiar gnawing sensation was set up, which was complete torture till I let them lie inert.“The brutes!” I muttered; “they must be half-savages still to treat one like this; but it was all that wretched renegade’s work. I wonder whether I shall ever meet him again. I believe he’s a miserable coward. I’ll soon see if I do. Oh, if I can only get amongst our people, and join them!”These thoughts made me feel hot, and I lay back picturing all that had taken place at our farm; but as the pain in my limbs died down, so did my rage against the Irish captain, and I began looking round again, thinking how beautiful the desert place looked, and what effects were produced among the mountains by the changes in the atmosphere. Then I fell to watching Sandho, and then the soft effects grew hazy, and—then hazier—and very dark, but not so dark but that I could see Joeboy’s big face as he leaned over me and said softly, “Boss Val been asleep?”“No,” I said sharply.“Um!” whispered Joeboy, laying his hand across my mouth. “Boer jus’ there. Lots. Plenty horses.”“Why, it’s night,” I said in a whisper as I looked round in wonder.“Um!”“Where’s Sandho?”Joeboy nodded his head; and, looking in the direction indicated, I could just see the shadowy form of my grazing horse, not above eight or ten feet away.“Have I been asleep all this time?” I said, with a strange feeling of shame troubling me.“Um! Plenty sleep,” replied Joeboy. “Now ready? Come ’long.”“Yes, I’m ready,” I said eagerly; “but tell me, have you been up towards the pass?”“Um!” he said. “Plenty Boer. All dark.”“Do you think we can get through?”“Um. Mustn’t talk.”He led Sandho forward, and went down on one knee to unfasten the strap with which the horse was hobbled; then he offered me a leg up, and so enabled me to spring into the saddle without much difficulty. The next minute he was leading the horse in and out among the rocks, Sandho’s hoofs striking a stone with a sharp click; after which he checked the active little animal, and we stood together listening. But all was still, and the night looked as if a black cloud had been drawn across the sky.“Nobody can possibly see us,” I said half-aloud; “and if they do they’ll think it some of their own people.”“Um!” said Joeboy, and as he said it I knew I was wrong, for I recalled what I had read, that in time of war sentries challenge, and, failing to receive the password of the night, fire at once. It was a startling thought; but we went on all the same, I for my part feeling I must trust to my good-luck.As we got farther in towards the mountains the obscurity increased and the air grew cooler. I now began to feel how impossible it would have been for me to have come alone and found my way in the darkness, for in a few minutes I was quite helpless; but Joeboy seemed in nowise confused, and did not hesitate once. It was as much as I could do to make out his black head and shoulders, and only at times found that the nodding ostrich-plumes were bobbing about just in front of me, as their wearer walked steadily on, holding my horse’s head. So we went on for nearly an hour, with Joeboy leading Sandho in and out among the great blocks of stone which strewed our way, keeping him where the sand was soft by getting well in front, so that the horse’s steps were pretty nearly in his own. I could make out that we were gradually rising, and that the rocks towered up to a great height left and right; but though I rode with every sense upon the strain, I could neither hear nor see sign of the enemy.Fortunately the night was cloudy, and I knew it would be long before the waning moon rose—not, I hoped, till we had been right through the pass. In fact, as we went steadily on without interruption, I began to believe the Boer I had seen must have been one of a small outpost placed there for observation during the daylight, and that they must have retired at dusk, while I was asleep; for I thought we must now be pretty well through the highest part of the opening, and had there been any one there I must have heard a challenge.I was just about to whisper my opinion to Joeboy when he stopped our progress and stood holding the horse’s head tightly, showing me something was wrong. I raised myself in the stirrups to peer forward, but everything in front was nearly black; and though I listened, holding my breath, there was not a sound. Then suddenly a voice from somewhere above on the right front demanded in Dutch, “Who goes there?”For answer Joeboy stepped on at once, and for the first time Sandho kicked against a stone, one of his shoes not only giving out a sharpclink, but striking a spark of fire.It was as if that spark of fire struck by iron off stone had ignited the powder in the pan of an old-fashioned gun; for from close at hand there was a flash, the heavy report, and then a rolling volley of echoes. I felt Sandho bound beneath me; but the next moment he was walking steadily along, following the hand holding his bit, and he paid no more heed when directly after another shot was fired on ahead, another behind, and again another and another, raising what seemed to be a continuous roar of echoes right, left, and in front, to go rolling among the mountains.The hot blood flew to my face, and a thrill of excitement ran through me as I involuntarily cocked the rifle I held across the saddle, sitting ready to fire at the first enemy who presented himself; in fact, I nearly drew trigger once, but my common-sense prevailed, as I felt that we could not be seen, neither could we be heard in the roar of echoes which took up and magnified the reports. Joeboy was doing exactly what was right under the circumstances—going straight on; and, unless we found a body of men confronting us and stopping our way, or an unlucky bullet struck one of us, it seemed probable that in a very short time we should have achieved our purpose.I had often heard of Echo Nek before, and had some vague idea that if any one shouted there the tones of his voice would be reverberated from the face of the cliffs; but I had never realised the true reason as I did now.The firing went steadily on, the Boer outpost being evidently under the impression that their action would drive back the force approaching to get into their country. This being so, the reports increased to an extent that showed plainly enough the presence of a strong body of men, who had been lying inside the valley, ready to hurry forward to the defence of the pass upon an alarm being given.I now began to wonder how it was that we were not seen through some one of the flashes and hit by bullets sent spattering among the stones among which we wended our way; but none came near. Every now and then I heard a sharp shock against the rock, followed by a pattering downpour of fragments. Every shot struck high above our heads, and at the end of a few minutes, higher still; at which I wondered, till it suddenly occurred to me that Sandho was not climbing higher and higher up the pass, but descending.All this time Joeboy kept steadily on, apparently as unconcerned as if he were leading the horse home from grazing peacefully away upon the veldt.I too began to feel more at my ease, for we had gone on so far that there was a strong hope that we might be successful, unless there should prove to be another body lower down the pass. The next minute, though, I felt convinced this could not be the case, for if another body were lower down they would have been firing; or, on second thoughts, I concluded they must have fired first, since the Boers would never conclude that a body of men was leaving their territory.The firing kept on for a few minutes longer, and then suddenly ceased; while as we proceeded, with Joeboy leading on as fast as Sandho could walk, we could hear voices behind us; men shouting and answering one another, though it was impossible to hear what was said; but it seemed as if they were asking one another what the firing was about, and whether any one had seen the attacking party. Of course this is only what I surmised; but it satisfied me at the time, and I could not help laughing at the waste of powder and lead occasioned by the harmless incident of a spark being struck from a stone by a horse’s foot.We were soon, however, satisfied about one thing: that we were not being pursued; for there was no more firing, and the voices soon died out as we went steadily on along a rough winding track pretty free from stones.We must have been carefully making our way onward for about an hour, when suddenly we walked right into a mist, which made our progress more difficult, for the great blocks of stone seemed to loom up suddenly right in our way; and in avoiding these we somehow missed the track, good proof of which was given me by Joeboy’s action; for he suddenly checked the horse, stooped down, felt about, and ended by lifting a stone as big as my head and casting it from him.“Why did you do that, Joeboy?” I said.“Boss wait,” was the answer, and I waited, to hear the stone strike directly after, and then keep on striking, as it went on by leaps and bounds, making me shudder slightly as I grasped the fact that Joeboy had checked the horse suddenly just on the brink of some precipice, down which the stone went rolling and plunging till the sounds of its blows died away along with the echoes it raised.

Under other circumstances I should have leaped down from my horse and crouched; but my leg had grown still and cold, so I sat perfectly motionless, trying to make out some plan of action I might follow out. To my dismay, the Boers had been quicker than I had given them credit for, and had, so to speak, shut the principal gate in the huge wall which in that particular part closed in their country from Natal. The man I had seen was doubtless one of their outposts, and for aught I knew to the contrary the pass might be held by hundreds of the sturdy burghers, every man a born rifleman. To go back by the way I came meant running into the arms of those who were scouring the country to retake me, while to make a détour and get round to the other side of the opening meant getting farther into the Boer country, the more populous part, where their troops would for certain now be on the move.

It seemed there was no going backward; and upon turning to look at Joeboy he showed he was of the same opinion. “No go back,” he said; “all Boer. Wait till sun gone.”

“And try to steal through the pass then,” I said eagerly, “in the dark?”

“Um!” he said. “All dark. No see Boss Val; no see horse.”

“But they’ll hear his hoofs. There are sure to be plenty of sentries.”

“Um, plenty much Boer. Go soft, soft. Then Sandho gallop.”

“And what about you?” I said, as I grasped that he meant we were to steal along softly in the darkness till we were heard, and then that I was to gallop. “What about you?”

“Joeboy hold stirrup and run,” he said, with a laugh. “Boer better get out o’ way.”

This seemed to be our only road out of the difficulty, and I carefully dismounted, Joeboy leading the horse farther in amongst what was now becoming a chaotic wilderness of stones; and here, pretty well hidden, but quite open to discovery by a wandering party of Boers at any time, we sat down to wait, listening to the steadycrop, crop, as Sandho calmly set to work to improve the occasion on grass.

As far as I could make out, the sentry we had seen was about a fifth of a mile distant; but in all probability there were others perched up on the lookout in various points of vantage high on either side of the pass; while those below, I felt sure now, would be in strong force, fulfilling the double duty of preventing English settlers from passing out of the country save as the Boers pleased, and defending the place.

“All Boer,” he said, pointing in various directions. “Can’t go. Wait.”

“Yes,” I said; “we must wait till it is dark.”

“Boss Val wait. Sandho eat and rest,” he said. “Boss lie down.”

“No,” I replied. “I must sit here and watch. You lie down now.”

“Boss Val lie down,” said the black, shaking his head. “Boer see um.”

“Well, they’ll see you,” I said.

“Um!” he replied, with a nod. “Only black man. See Boss Val; come and catch um.”

It was my turn to nod now, for his meaning was plain. If the Boers saw me, my chances of escape were gone; while if by ill-luck they caught night of him, the probability was that they would not trouble themselves about a solitary Kaffir.

“You are right, Joeboy,” I said. “I’ll keep hidden till it grows dark.”

“Um!” he said softly; “get dark. Then not see Boss Val. Joeboy go and look how many.”

I was about to oppose this part of his plan, but upon second thoughts I did not, but selected a better spot for my hiding-place by creeping among the stones towards where Sandho was grazing, so as to keep him well under my observation for fear he should stray too far, and not be within reach should danger arise. There he was, in a snug nook where the grass grew thickly consequent upon there being suggestions of a trickling spring. The spot was well surrounded, too, by stones, which on three sides fenced him in, and between two of these, and with a larger one to form a support for my back, I settled myself as comfortably as I could, for my leg was still very painful and my arms ached terribly. In fact, I was so weary now the time for action was over that I was quite content to subside, and sit leaning back watching the black while he crawled on hands and knees to Sandho, who suddenly raised his head with a start at Joeboy’s approach; but on seeing who it was, he uttered a low whinnying sound and went on cropping the grass once more, paying no further heed to the black, who proceeded to hobble, his two fore-legs to keep him from going too far, and then returned to me.

“No go away now,” whispered Joeboy.

“It wasn’t necessary,” I said. “I shall watch him.”

“Um!” said the black, and then he pointed in the way he intended to go, laid the shield and two throwing-assagais by me, and then went rapidly off on all-fours, trotting like a huge black dog.

I watched till he disappeared among the stones between me and the sentry, and twice I caught sight of him again, or rather, I should say, of his back; but only for a moment or two, and then he was gone, while I let my eyes rest again upon the spot where I had last seen the sentry. Then I watched my horse, and afterwards began to take more note of my surroundings.

It did not take long. There were blocks of stone everywhere in the wildest confusion, and among them here and there great straggling patches of unwholesome-looking, fleshily-lobed prickly-pears with their horrible thorns. Now and then, too, were miserable, dried-up karroo-bushes, starved among the great blocks above the rich green hollow where Sandho grazed. Everywhere else was parched loose red sand, and beyond rose up the sterile mountains on either side of the pass.

Joeboy knew me better than I knew myself when he hobbled the horse, for as I sat there watching and thinking how solitary it all was, wondering how they were getting on at home, and whether the Boers were really in force by the pass, a pleasant feeling of restfulness came over me, and the mountains in the distance seemed to grow hazy and of a delicious blue; the coarse bushes did not look so dry, nor the sickly prickly-pears so unwholesome and like flat oval cakes of horribly unwholesome human flesh joined together at their edges; while the little patch of pasture where Sandho was feeding appeared to be of an indescribably beautiful tinge of green.

“I wonder how long Joeboy will be,” I remember thinking, as I drew my injured ankle across my right knee and began to rub it softly. “He ought to come back soon.”

Then I ceased chafing the ankle, for it was very tender, and I wondered how long it would take to get well again, so that I could leap from stone to stone as sure-footed as ever.

It was a relief to leave it alone, and I let it glide back till it was outstretched upon the sand beyond the stones, where it lay resting, and the pain began to die out. It was restful, too, for my arms; for as soon as I began to put any strain upon the muscles a peculiar gnawing sensation was set up, which was complete torture till I let them lie inert.

“The brutes!” I muttered; “they must be half-savages still to treat one like this; but it was all that wretched renegade’s work. I wonder whether I shall ever meet him again. I believe he’s a miserable coward. I’ll soon see if I do. Oh, if I can only get amongst our people, and join them!”

These thoughts made me feel hot, and I lay back picturing all that had taken place at our farm; but as the pain in my limbs died down, so did my rage against the Irish captain, and I began looking round again, thinking how beautiful the desert place looked, and what effects were produced among the mountains by the changes in the atmosphere. Then I fell to watching Sandho, and then the soft effects grew hazy, and—then hazier—and very dark, but not so dark but that I could see Joeboy’s big face as he leaned over me and said softly, “Boss Val been asleep?”

“No,” I said sharply.

“Um!” whispered Joeboy, laying his hand across my mouth. “Boer jus’ there. Lots. Plenty horses.”

“Why, it’s night,” I said in a whisper as I looked round in wonder.

“Um!”

“Where’s Sandho?”

Joeboy nodded his head; and, looking in the direction indicated, I could just see the shadowy form of my grazing horse, not above eight or ten feet away.

“Have I been asleep all this time?” I said, with a strange feeling of shame troubling me.

“Um! Plenty sleep,” replied Joeboy. “Now ready? Come ’long.”

“Yes, I’m ready,” I said eagerly; “but tell me, have you been up towards the pass?”

“Um!” he said. “Plenty Boer. All dark.”

“Do you think we can get through?”

“Um. Mustn’t talk.”

He led Sandho forward, and went down on one knee to unfasten the strap with which the horse was hobbled; then he offered me a leg up, and so enabled me to spring into the saddle without much difficulty. The next minute he was leading the horse in and out among the rocks, Sandho’s hoofs striking a stone with a sharp click; after which he checked the active little animal, and we stood together listening. But all was still, and the night looked as if a black cloud had been drawn across the sky.

“Nobody can possibly see us,” I said half-aloud; “and if they do they’ll think it some of their own people.”

“Um!” said Joeboy, and as he said it I knew I was wrong, for I recalled what I had read, that in time of war sentries challenge, and, failing to receive the password of the night, fire at once. It was a startling thought; but we went on all the same, I for my part feeling I must trust to my good-luck.

As we got farther in towards the mountains the obscurity increased and the air grew cooler. I now began to feel how impossible it would have been for me to have come alone and found my way in the darkness, for in a few minutes I was quite helpless; but Joeboy seemed in nowise confused, and did not hesitate once. It was as much as I could do to make out his black head and shoulders, and only at times found that the nodding ostrich-plumes were bobbing about just in front of me, as their wearer walked steadily on, holding my horse’s head. So we went on for nearly an hour, with Joeboy leading Sandho in and out among the great blocks of stone which strewed our way, keeping him where the sand was soft by getting well in front, so that the horse’s steps were pretty nearly in his own. I could make out that we were gradually rising, and that the rocks towered up to a great height left and right; but though I rode with every sense upon the strain, I could neither hear nor see sign of the enemy.

Fortunately the night was cloudy, and I knew it would be long before the waning moon rose—not, I hoped, till we had been right through the pass. In fact, as we went steadily on without interruption, I began to believe the Boer I had seen must have been one of a small outpost placed there for observation during the daylight, and that they must have retired at dusk, while I was asleep; for I thought we must now be pretty well through the highest part of the opening, and had there been any one there I must have heard a challenge.

I was just about to whisper my opinion to Joeboy when he stopped our progress and stood holding the horse’s head tightly, showing me something was wrong. I raised myself in the stirrups to peer forward, but everything in front was nearly black; and though I listened, holding my breath, there was not a sound. Then suddenly a voice from somewhere above on the right front demanded in Dutch, “Who goes there?”

For answer Joeboy stepped on at once, and for the first time Sandho kicked against a stone, one of his shoes not only giving out a sharpclink, but striking a spark of fire.

It was as if that spark of fire struck by iron off stone had ignited the powder in the pan of an old-fashioned gun; for from close at hand there was a flash, the heavy report, and then a rolling volley of echoes. I felt Sandho bound beneath me; but the next moment he was walking steadily along, following the hand holding his bit, and he paid no more heed when directly after another shot was fired on ahead, another behind, and again another and another, raising what seemed to be a continuous roar of echoes right, left, and in front, to go rolling among the mountains.

The hot blood flew to my face, and a thrill of excitement ran through me as I involuntarily cocked the rifle I held across the saddle, sitting ready to fire at the first enemy who presented himself; in fact, I nearly drew trigger once, but my common-sense prevailed, as I felt that we could not be seen, neither could we be heard in the roar of echoes which took up and magnified the reports. Joeboy was doing exactly what was right under the circumstances—going straight on; and, unless we found a body of men confronting us and stopping our way, or an unlucky bullet struck one of us, it seemed probable that in a very short time we should have achieved our purpose.

I had often heard of Echo Nek before, and had some vague idea that if any one shouted there the tones of his voice would be reverberated from the face of the cliffs; but I had never realised the true reason as I did now.

The firing went steadily on, the Boer outpost being evidently under the impression that their action would drive back the force approaching to get into their country. This being so, the reports increased to an extent that showed plainly enough the presence of a strong body of men, who had been lying inside the valley, ready to hurry forward to the defence of the pass upon an alarm being given.

I now began to wonder how it was that we were not seen through some one of the flashes and hit by bullets sent spattering among the stones among which we wended our way; but none came near. Every now and then I heard a sharp shock against the rock, followed by a pattering downpour of fragments. Every shot struck high above our heads, and at the end of a few minutes, higher still; at which I wondered, till it suddenly occurred to me that Sandho was not climbing higher and higher up the pass, but descending.

All this time Joeboy kept steadily on, apparently as unconcerned as if he were leading the horse home from grazing peacefully away upon the veldt.

I too began to feel more at my ease, for we had gone on so far that there was a strong hope that we might be successful, unless there should prove to be another body lower down the pass. The next minute, though, I felt convinced this could not be the case, for if another body were lower down they would have been firing; or, on second thoughts, I concluded they must have fired first, since the Boers would never conclude that a body of men was leaving their territory.

The firing kept on for a few minutes longer, and then suddenly ceased; while as we proceeded, with Joeboy leading on as fast as Sandho could walk, we could hear voices behind us; men shouting and answering one another, though it was impossible to hear what was said; but it seemed as if they were asking one another what the firing was about, and whether any one had seen the attacking party. Of course this is only what I surmised; but it satisfied me at the time, and I could not help laughing at the waste of powder and lead occasioned by the harmless incident of a spark being struck from a stone by a horse’s foot.

We were soon, however, satisfied about one thing: that we were not being pursued; for there was no more firing, and the voices soon died out as we went steadily on along a rough winding track pretty free from stones.

We must have been carefully making our way onward for about an hour, when suddenly we walked right into a mist, which made our progress more difficult, for the great blocks of stone seemed to loom up suddenly right in our way; and in avoiding these we somehow missed the track, good proof of which was given me by Joeboy’s action; for he suddenly checked the horse, stooped down, felt about, and ended by lifting a stone as big as my head and casting it from him.

“Why did you do that, Joeboy?” I said.

“Boss wait,” was the answer, and I waited, to hear the stone strike directly after, and then keep on striking, as it went on by leaps and bounds, making me shudder slightly as I grasped the fact that Joeboy had checked the horse suddenly just on the brink of some precipice, down which the stone went rolling and plunging till the sounds of its blows died away along with the echoes it raised.

Chapter Eleven.Out of the Frying-Pan.“What a narrow escape, Joeboy!” I whispered.“Um!” he said. “No good go that way. Sandho break knees.”“Break his knees?” I said. “Yes, I should think he would! Can you find the way back to the track?”“Um! No. All thick; all dark. Come back little way. Sit down and wait.”It was good counsel, and I sat fast—rather nervously, though—while Joeboy backed the horse. And I had cause for my nervous sensation. In fact, what followed proved that, in the darkness and confusion caused by our ignorance, Joeboy backed the horse along the edge of the precipice instead of right away from it; for there was a sudden slip, and one of Sandho’s hind-legs went down, making the poor beast give a frantic plunge which nearly unseated me and drove Joeboy backwards. Then, as the horse leaped up again, he made three or four bounds before standing snorting and trembling; while I heard the rush and rattle of the dislodged stones as they went hurtling down into the gorge.“Um! Mustn’t try any more,” said Joeboy coolly as he took hold of Sandho’s bridle again, and petted and caressed the poor beast till he was calm once more.“He’ll stand now,” I said, rather huskily, as I mastered a strong desire to get down. “Feel round for this edge, Joeboy, and find out which is the safe way to go.”“Um!” grunted the black; and after giving Sandho a final pat on the neck, he went down on all-fours and crawled away through the darkness so silently that at the end of a few minutes I began to feel alarmed, wondering whether he had made some terrible slip and gone over.It was vain to argue with myself, for the shock I had received when the horse slipped had not passed away. No doubt my previous experiences had weakened me, and made me less able to fight against what was a very ordinary trouble for a mountain rider.Another five minutes passed away—minutes which seemed terribly prolonged as I sat there in the darkness knowing I dared not stir, and convinced that we must be upon a projecting bracket of rock whose shape I could mentally picture, with only one narrow pathway off, and that hidden by the mist. At last I could bear it no longer, and, leaning forward to try and penetrate the darkness beyond the horse’s head, I called twice:“Joeboy! Joeboy!”“Joeboy here, Boss,” came from behind me, and I uttered a sigh of relief as the great fellow seemed to rise up close by and laid his hand upon my arm.“Where have you been?” I said in a querulous, excited way.“Where, Boss Val say? Go all round. Better stop till morning.”“Yes,” I said, with a sigh of relief. “Let’s stop till morning. Here, help me to get down.”I was obliged to ask for help, for the cold and damp air had made my injured limbs so stiff and painful that I could hardly move them, and it required a good strong effort to keep down a groan when I lowered myself on to my feet, and then gladly sat down upon the damp rock.I had no fear about Sandho, whose rein had been passed over his head and allowed to hang down, for he had been trained to stand, and having grazed for many hours, had no temptation to stir.Joeboy soon settled himself close to my feet, and then began our long and painful watching, hour after hour, through a night which seemed as if it would never end. I had no desire to question the black, for his action fully proved to me that our position must be perilous unless we left the horse to shift for himself, and all this was sufficient to keep off any desire for sleep; while a whisper from time to time was sufficient to satisfy myself that my companion was as wakeful as I. As the time passed on the mist seemed to thicken around us, with this peculiarity striking me: it seemed to shut us completely in, so that not a sound reached our ears, the silence being to me perfectly awful.At last the morning was heralded by a faint puff or two of chilly air which came and went again, till at last it settled into a soft breeze, whose effects were soon apparent. All at once, as I looked up, a cloud of mist became visible, then floated away; and as if by magic the sky, of a soft dark grey, dotted with a faint star or two, came into sight.Then day began to advance with rapid strides, and I found my notion of our being upon a bracket of rock was not too far-fetched, for we were upon a jutting-out promontory of some fifty feet across, from whose edges the rock went down in places perpendicularly, in others with a tremendously steep slope, while the way by which we came on was not above half-a-dozen yards wide.“You were very wise, Joeboy,” I said as I rose to look round. “It would have been madness to try leading Sandho off there in the fog.”“Um!” said Joe quietly; and then: “Look!”He pointed away to our right, and, following his direction, I could here and there make out the missing path down the pass, winding along in rough zigzags till lost in the distance.I was soon in my saddle again, and Joeboy led the horse off the perilous place where we had passed the night, and then up the pass again for a couple of hundred yards to where the track had borne off a little to the right, but where we had kept on through the mist perfectly straight, with nearly fatal results.We looked anxiously up now as we turned off into the proper track, fully expecting to see outposts of the Boers who had fired as we crossed the head; but none were visible. So we began to descend as rapidly as we could, but only at a walk, for the track was terribly rough.It was only very gradually that the valley began to open out, our way at times being along the stony bed of a mountain torrent; while right and left the sides of what looked like a tremendous rift in the mountain, split open in some terrific convulsion of nature, towered up.We went along cheerily, for every yard carried us farther from risk of capture by the Boers; and once we were well clear of the pass a couple of days would, I felt sure, place us safely in the land of my countrymen with whom the Boers were at war.“How soon shall we stop and have breakfast, Joeboy?” I said as we were passing through a perfect chaos of great stones which now hemmed us in front and back. “No fear of seeing any Boers now.”The words had hardly left my lips when Sandho stopped short, and uttered a sharp challenging neigh, which was answered from some distance in front; and directly after, as I turned my horse sharply to get under the cover of a huge block we had just passed, there came the loud clattering of hoofs and a shout, as a party of some five-and-twenty well-mounted horsemen cantered out to bar the way.“Then they are there,” I muttered as I swung Sandho round again. Joeboy laid his left hand on the saddle, and away we cantered forward to circumvent, if possible, the party in front whose horse had answered Sandho’s challenge.The men behind yelled to us to stop. We paid no heed, but, regardless of the stones, cantered on, Joeboy taking them at a stride in company with Sandho’s bounds.The next minute I was looking upon fully twenty mounted riflemen right across our path, and a glance right and left showed me that any attempt to get round them would be an act of madness, for no horse could pass.I turned in my saddle and looked back, to find that the party there were closing in upon us; and for a moment I felt ready to turn Sandho and go at them at full gallop, so as to try and cut my way through. I saw, however, this would be a greater risk than going in the other direction.“It’s of no use, Joeboy,” I said hoarsely; “we’re trapped.”“Boss Val going to fight?” he said inquiringly, and as he asked his question he fitted his long, elliptical shield well upon his left arm and arranged his assagais handy for throwing.“Two against all those, Joeboy? No; it would be folly.”There was no time for more words, for the party which had remained in hiding till we had passed were closing in fast; and then a couple of young men suddenly darted out from those in front, set spurs to their horses, and seemed to race at us, leaping the stones in their way steeplechase fashion.In almost less time than I take to describe it, one of them, a good-looking, frank young fellow in an officer’s uniform, rose in his stirrups and made a snatch at my arm; but, in answer to a touch of the heel, Sandho leaped forward, and my would-be captor passed me, riding on several horse-lengths before he could turn and come at me again; while, by a quick leap aside, Joeboy avoided the man who came at him, and stood with his back to a great stone, with his assagai raised to strike.“Surrender, you Dutch scoundrel!” roared my antagonist, drawing his sword, “or I’ll cut you down.”“Dutch scoundrel yourself, you ugly idiot of a Boer!” I cried as angrily, and I brought my rifle to bear upon him, holding it like a pistol.“Here, don’t shoot,” cried my adversary. “You don’t talk like a Boer.”“Why should I?” said I. “But you’re not a Dutchman—are you?”“Hardly,” he said, with a laugh.“What are you, then?”“Making a mistake, it seems,” he replied.“But your people are Boers?”“They’re going to beat them,” he replied, “as soon as they get a chance. Have you seen them up the Nek yonder?”“Yes; I was running away from them. They were shooting at us last night.”“Hi; Robsy! Steady there!” roared my new acquaintance. “Steady, I say! Friends.—You, Black Jack, put down that spear, or it’ll be the worse for you.—It’s all right, sir,” he continued as a grey-haired, military-looking man now rode up, followed by half-a-dozen more. “This is an Englishman running away from the Boers.”“Then he’s not an Englishman,” said the officer sharply. “Here, arrest this man.—Now then, give an account of yourself, for you look confoundedly like a spy. Here, some one, cut that black fellow down if he resists.”“Be quiet, Joeboy,” I cried; “these are friends.”Joeboy dropped into a peaceable attitude and stood scowling at the horsemen who surrounded us.“Now, sir,” said the officer, “why don’t you speak?”“Because you called me a spy,” I said.“Well, that seems to be what you are, you young scoundrel. How many of your friends are there up yonder?”“I don’t know,” I said.“Say ‘sir’ when you speak to a gentleman,” cried the officer angrily, “and no nonsense. Speak out—the truth if you don’t want to be shot.”“Of course I don’t want to be shot,” I said scornfully; “and I’m not in the habit of telling lies.”“How many Boers are there, then, up in the pass?”“I don’t know,” I said. “We crept by them in the dark.”“Why? To come and see what forces we had here?”“No,” I said.“Then why did you come?”“To get away from the Boers.”“Why did you want to get away from them?” cried the officer, gazing at me searchingly.I was so hot and indignant that I would not speak for some little time.“I thought so. Making up a good story—eh? You’ve caught the first spy, Lieutenant.”“No, sir, I think not,” said the young officer.“I think you have.—Now, sir,” he continued, “if you wish to save your skin, speak out. Why did you want to get away from the Boers?”“Because I was commandoed,” I said rather sulkily.“Oh, then you were afraid to fight—eh?”“No; but I was not going to fight my own countrymen.”“Oh!” said the officer, staring. “Here, tell me, how were you summoned?”I told him, and that the party was led by an Irishman named Moriarty.“Ah! yes, I know him. Tall, handsome, dashing young Irish cavalier—isn’t he?”“No,” I said; “a middle-aged, bullying, ruffianly sort of a fellow, with a red nose,” I replied.“Humph! Then where do you come from?”“Cameldorn Farm.”“Eh? Hullo!” cried the young man who had captured me. “I say, take off your hat.”“What for?” I asked.“Because I want to look at you. How’s that scratch you got on the arm from the lioness?”“What do you know about the scratch?” I said, leaning forward to look the speaker full in the eyes.“Why, only that I shot her. What’s your name? Of course, Val.”“Mr Denham!” I cried in astonishment.“That’s your humble servant, sir.”“But you’ve got a beard now,” I cried, holding out my hand. “Oh, I say, I am glad to see you!”“The same here, Val, my lad. I say, how you’ve grown! Here, Colonel, it’s all right. I’ll answer for this fellow. Why, Val, you were commandoed, and cutting away?”“Yes,” I cried excitedly. “Here, Joeboy, this is Boss Denham.”“Um!” ejaculated the black, showing his teeth.“I was running away from the Boers so as not to serve, Mr Denham,” I said eagerly, for I wanted to wipe off the slurs of coward and spy.“Well, quite right, my lad,” said the Lieutenant. “But what were you going to do?”“Get into Natal, sir, and join the Light Horse.”“Well done!” laughed the Colonel, clapping me on the back; “then you’ve regularly fallen upon your legs, my lad. That your horse?”“Yes, sir.”“Good,” he cried, looking me over, “and you ride him well. We’re the Light Horse. I’m the Colonel, at your service, and I accept you at once as a recruit.”“You can go through the swearing-in business some other time, Val,” said the Lieutenant. “Now then, are the Boers in force and coming down the pass?”I told him all I knew, and the Colonel laughed.“You’ve seen a sentry and heard a few shots fired, my lad,” he said. “Why, you’re not worth calling a spy.”“Am I one of the Light Horse now, sir?” I said eagerly.“Certainly.”“Then send me back up to the Nek, and I’ll try and prove myself a better one.”“I’ll send you up, sir,” said the Colonel stiffly, “with a vidette, to feel for the enemy and try to draw him out; but we don’t call members of the Light Horse spies. If you go on such an adventure it will be a reconnaissance.”I felt humbled, and was silent.“This is an old friend of yours, then, Denham?” continued the Colonel.“Oh yes,” replied the Lieutenant. “His father, Mr Moray, was a most kindly host to me during a long shooting expedition, and I am very glad to have his son with us. I hope, sir, you will place him in the same troop as I am.”“Certainly,” said the Colonel, who then turned to me in a frank, bluff way, and held out his hand.“Glad to have you with us, Mr Moray,” he said; “and I beg your pardon for being so rough with you. Your appearance was a bit suspicious, though. But what about this black fellow?”“He is my servant, sir,” I replied.“Humph! But we can’t allow privates in this corps to bring their servants. It is not a picnic nor a shooting expedition.”Some one who heard these words cried “Oh!” loudly.“I beg your pardon, gentlemen,” said the Colonel, smiling; “it is. I should have said this is not a hunting expedition. We all have to rough it.”“I beg pardon, Colonel,” said Lieutenant Denham, giving me a quick look. “Private Moray meant to say the black had been the servant at his home. I had forgotten the man. I remember him now. He was a good hunter and manager of the bullock-wagon we took up the country.”“Yes, sir,” I said eagerly; “and most useful in all ways.”“Be able to forage a little for game—eh—if we run short of food?”“Oh, yes, sir!” I cried.“That will do, then; let him stay with us.”Joeboy was straining his ears to catch every word, and I saw his face light up as he caught my eye, and he gave his assagai a flourish.“Yes,” said the Colonel dryly, for he had had his eye upon the big athletic black; “but tell him that he must obey orders, and not be getting up any fighting upon his own account.”“He’ll obey me, sir,” I said, speaking so that Joeboy could hear; and he looked at me and nodded.“That incident is over, then,” said the Colonel sharply. “Now, Mr Denham, take a dozen men and continue the advance. We know now the meaning of last night’s firing; but see what you can find out about the strength of the party holding the pass. Be careful of your party. We are good shots; but recollect they are better, and I want information, not to see you bring back half-a-dozen wounded men.”“I’ll be careful, sir;” and ten minutes later, to my surprise and delight at the way in which my position had altered during the last half-hour, I was riding close behind Lieutenant Denham, while, proud of his position, Joeboy was on in front, his knowledge of the pass we had just descended being most valuable at such a time, the probabilities tending to point out that he might be able to get well up to right or left of the track and gain a pretty good idea of the strength of the Boers without drawing a shot, whereas the sight of the horsemen, we felt, would have been the signal for a shower of bullets.

“What a narrow escape, Joeboy!” I whispered.

“Um!” he said. “No good go that way. Sandho break knees.”

“Break his knees?” I said. “Yes, I should think he would! Can you find the way back to the track?”

“Um! No. All thick; all dark. Come back little way. Sit down and wait.”

It was good counsel, and I sat fast—rather nervously, though—while Joeboy backed the horse. And I had cause for my nervous sensation. In fact, what followed proved that, in the darkness and confusion caused by our ignorance, Joeboy backed the horse along the edge of the precipice instead of right away from it; for there was a sudden slip, and one of Sandho’s hind-legs went down, making the poor beast give a frantic plunge which nearly unseated me and drove Joeboy backwards. Then, as the horse leaped up again, he made three or four bounds before standing snorting and trembling; while I heard the rush and rattle of the dislodged stones as they went hurtling down into the gorge.

“Um! Mustn’t try any more,” said Joeboy coolly as he took hold of Sandho’s bridle again, and petted and caressed the poor beast till he was calm once more.

“He’ll stand now,” I said, rather huskily, as I mastered a strong desire to get down. “Feel round for this edge, Joeboy, and find out which is the safe way to go.”

“Um!” grunted the black; and after giving Sandho a final pat on the neck, he went down on all-fours and crawled away through the darkness so silently that at the end of a few minutes I began to feel alarmed, wondering whether he had made some terrible slip and gone over.

It was vain to argue with myself, for the shock I had received when the horse slipped had not passed away. No doubt my previous experiences had weakened me, and made me less able to fight against what was a very ordinary trouble for a mountain rider.

Another five minutes passed away—minutes which seemed terribly prolonged as I sat there in the darkness knowing I dared not stir, and convinced that we must be upon a projecting bracket of rock whose shape I could mentally picture, with only one narrow pathway off, and that hidden by the mist. At last I could bear it no longer, and, leaning forward to try and penetrate the darkness beyond the horse’s head, I called twice:

“Joeboy! Joeboy!”

“Joeboy here, Boss,” came from behind me, and I uttered a sigh of relief as the great fellow seemed to rise up close by and laid his hand upon my arm.

“Where have you been?” I said in a querulous, excited way.

“Where, Boss Val say? Go all round. Better stop till morning.”

“Yes,” I said, with a sigh of relief. “Let’s stop till morning. Here, help me to get down.”

I was obliged to ask for help, for the cold and damp air had made my injured limbs so stiff and painful that I could hardly move them, and it required a good strong effort to keep down a groan when I lowered myself on to my feet, and then gladly sat down upon the damp rock.

I had no fear about Sandho, whose rein had been passed over his head and allowed to hang down, for he had been trained to stand, and having grazed for many hours, had no temptation to stir.

Joeboy soon settled himself close to my feet, and then began our long and painful watching, hour after hour, through a night which seemed as if it would never end. I had no desire to question the black, for his action fully proved to me that our position must be perilous unless we left the horse to shift for himself, and all this was sufficient to keep off any desire for sleep; while a whisper from time to time was sufficient to satisfy myself that my companion was as wakeful as I. As the time passed on the mist seemed to thicken around us, with this peculiarity striking me: it seemed to shut us completely in, so that not a sound reached our ears, the silence being to me perfectly awful.

At last the morning was heralded by a faint puff or two of chilly air which came and went again, till at last it settled into a soft breeze, whose effects were soon apparent. All at once, as I looked up, a cloud of mist became visible, then floated away; and as if by magic the sky, of a soft dark grey, dotted with a faint star or two, came into sight.

Then day began to advance with rapid strides, and I found my notion of our being upon a bracket of rock was not too far-fetched, for we were upon a jutting-out promontory of some fifty feet across, from whose edges the rock went down in places perpendicularly, in others with a tremendously steep slope, while the way by which we came on was not above half-a-dozen yards wide.

“You were very wise, Joeboy,” I said as I rose to look round. “It would have been madness to try leading Sandho off there in the fog.”

“Um!” said Joe quietly; and then: “Look!”

He pointed away to our right, and, following his direction, I could here and there make out the missing path down the pass, winding along in rough zigzags till lost in the distance.

I was soon in my saddle again, and Joeboy led the horse off the perilous place where we had passed the night, and then up the pass again for a couple of hundred yards to where the track had borne off a little to the right, but where we had kept on through the mist perfectly straight, with nearly fatal results.

We looked anxiously up now as we turned off into the proper track, fully expecting to see outposts of the Boers who had fired as we crossed the head; but none were visible. So we began to descend as rapidly as we could, but only at a walk, for the track was terribly rough.

It was only very gradually that the valley began to open out, our way at times being along the stony bed of a mountain torrent; while right and left the sides of what looked like a tremendous rift in the mountain, split open in some terrific convulsion of nature, towered up.

We went along cheerily, for every yard carried us farther from risk of capture by the Boers; and once we were well clear of the pass a couple of days would, I felt sure, place us safely in the land of my countrymen with whom the Boers were at war.

“How soon shall we stop and have breakfast, Joeboy?” I said as we were passing through a perfect chaos of great stones which now hemmed us in front and back. “No fear of seeing any Boers now.”

The words had hardly left my lips when Sandho stopped short, and uttered a sharp challenging neigh, which was answered from some distance in front; and directly after, as I turned my horse sharply to get under the cover of a huge block we had just passed, there came the loud clattering of hoofs and a shout, as a party of some five-and-twenty well-mounted horsemen cantered out to bar the way.

“Then they are there,” I muttered as I swung Sandho round again. Joeboy laid his left hand on the saddle, and away we cantered forward to circumvent, if possible, the party in front whose horse had answered Sandho’s challenge.

The men behind yelled to us to stop. We paid no heed, but, regardless of the stones, cantered on, Joeboy taking them at a stride in company with Sandho’s bounds.

The next minute I was looking upon fully twenty mounted riflemen right across our path, and a glance right and left showed me that any attempt to get round them would be an act of madness, for no horse could pass.

I turned in my saddle and looked back, to find that the party there were closing in upon us; and for a moment I felt ready to turn Sandho and go at them at full gallop, so as to try and cut my way through. I saw, however, this would be a greater risk than going in the other direction.

“It’s of no use, Joeboy,” I said hoarsely; “we’re trapped.”

“Boss Val going to fight?” he said inquiringly, and as he asked his question he fitted his long, elliptical shield well upon his left arm and arranged his assagais handy for throwing.

“Two against all those, Joeboy? No; it would be folly.”

There was no time for more words, for the party which had remained in hiding till we had passed were closing in fast; and then a couple of young men suddenly darted out from those in front, set spurs to their horses, and seemed to race at us, leaping the stones in their way steeplechase fashion.

In almost less time than I take to describe it, one of them, a good-looking, frank young fellow in an officer’s uniform, rose in his stirrups and made a snatch at my arm; but, in answer to a touch of the heel, Sandho leaped forward, and my would-be captor passed me, riding on several horse-lengths before he could turn and come at me again; while, by a quick leap aside, Joeboy avoided the man who came at him, and stood with his back to a great stone, with his assagai raised to strike.

“Surrender, you Dutch scoundrel!” roared my antagonist, drawing his sword, “or I’ll cut you down.”

“Dutch scoundrel yourself, you ugly idiot of a Boer!” I cried as angrily, and I brought my rifle to bear upon him, holding it like a pistol.

“Here, don’t shoot,” cried my adversary. “You don’t talk like a Boer.”

“Why should I?” said I. “But you’re not a Dutchman—are you?”

“Hardly,” he said, with a laugh.

“What are you, then?”

“Making a mistake, it seems,” he replied.

“But your people are Boers?”

“They’re going to beat them,” he replied, “as soon as they get a chance. Have you seen them up the Nek yonder?”

“Yes; I was running away from them. They were shooting at us last night.”

“Hi; Robsy! Steady there!” roared my new acquaintance. “Steady, I say! Friends.—You, Black Jack, put down that spear, or it’ll be the worse for you.—It’s all right, sir,” he continued as a grey-haired, military-looking man now rode up, followed by half-a-dozen more. “This is an Englishman running away from the Boers.”

“Then he’s not an Englishman,” said the officer sharply. “Here, arrest this man.—Now then, give an account of yourself, for you look confoundedly like a spy. Here, some one, cut that black fellow down if he resists.”

“Be quiet, Joeboy,” I cried; “these are friends.”

Joeboy dropped into a peaceable attitude and stood scowling at the horsemen who surrounded us.

“Now, sir,” said the officer, “why don’t you speak?”

“Because you called me a spy,” I said.

“Well, that seems to be what you are, you young scoundrel. How many of your friends are there up yonder?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Say ‘sir’ when you speak to a gentleman,” cried the officer angrily, “and no nonsense. Speak out—the truth if you don’t want to be shot.”

“Of course I don’t want to be shot,” I said scornfully; “and I’m not in the habit of telling lies.”

“How many Boers are there, then, up in the pass?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “We crept by them in the dark.”

“Why? To come and see what forces we had here?”

“No,” I said.

“Then why did you come?”

“To get away from the Boers.”

“Why did you want to get away from them?” cried the officer, gazing at me searchingly.

I was so hot and indignant that I would not speak for some little time.

“I thought so. Making up a good story—eh? You’ve caught the first spy, Lieutenant.”

“No, sir, I think not,” said the young officer.

“I think you have.—Now, sir,” he continued, “if you wish to save your skin, speak out. Why did you want to get away from the Boers?”

“Because I was commandoed,” I said rather sulkily.

“Oh, then you were afraid to fight—eh?”

“No; but I was not going to fight my own countrymen.”

“Oh!” said the officer, staring. “Here, tell me, how were you summoned?”

I told him, and that the party was led by an Irishman named Moriarty.

“Ah! yes, I know him. Tall, handsome, dashing young Irish cavalier—isn’t he?”

“No,” I said; “a middle-aged, bullying, ruffianly sort of a fellow, with a red nose,” I replied.

“Humph! Then where do you come from?”

“Cameldorn Farm.”

“Eh? Hullo!” cried the young man who had captured me. “I say, take off your hat.”

“What for?” I asked.

“Because I want to look at you. How’s that scratch you got on the arm from the lioness?”

“What do you know about the scratch?” I said, leaning forward to look the speaker full in the eyes.

“Why, only that I shot her. What’s your name? Of course, Val.”

“Mr Denham!” I cried in astonishment.

“That’s your humble servant, sir.”

“But you’ve got a beard now,” I cried, holding out my hand. “Oh, I say, I am glad to see you!”

“The same here, Val, my lad. I say, how you’ve grown! Here, Colonel, it’s all right. I’ll answer for this fellow. Why, Val, you were commandoed, and cutting away?”

“Yes,” I cried excitedly. “Here, Joeboy, this is Boss Denham.”

“Um!” ejaculated the black, showing his teeth.

“I was running away from the Boers so as not to serve, Mr Denham,” I said eagerly, for I wanted to wipe off the slurs of coward and spy.

“Well, quite right, my lad,” said the Lieutenant. “But what were you going to do?”

“Get into Natal, sir, and join the Light Horse.”

“Well done!” laughed the Colonel, clapping me on the back; “then you’ve regularly fallen upon your legs, my lad. That your horse?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” he cried, looking me over, “and you ride him well. We’re the Light Horse. I’m the Colonel, at your service, and I accept you at once as a recruit.”

“You can go through the swearing-in business some other time, Val,” said the Lieutenant. “Now then, are the Boers in force and coming down the pass?”

I told him all I knew, and the Colonel laughed.

“You’ve seen a sentry and heard a few shots fired, my lad,” he said. “Why, you’re not worth calling a spy.”

“Am I one of the Light Horse now, sir?” I said eagerly.

“Certainly.”

“Then send me back up to the Nek, and I’ll try and prove myself a better one.”

“I’ll send you up, sir,” said the Colonel stiffly, “with a vidette, to feel for the enemy and try to draw him out; but we don’t call members of the Light Horse spies. If you go on such an adventure it will be a reconnaissance.”

I felt humbled, and was silent.

“This is an old friend of yours, then, Denham?” continued the Colonel.

“Oh yes,” replied the Lieutenant. “His father, Mr Moray, was a most kindly host to me during a long shooting expedition, and I am very glad to have his son with us. I hope, sir, you will place him in the same troop as I am.”

“Certainly,” said the Colonel, who then turned to me in a frank, bluff way, and held out his hand.

“Glad to have you with us, Mr Moray,” he said; “and I beg your pardon for being so rough with you. Your appearance was a bit suspicious, though. But what about this black fellow?”

“He is my servant, sir,” I replied.

“Humph! But we can’t allow privates in this corps to bring their servants. It is not a picnic nor a shooting expedition.”

Some one who heard these words cried “Oh!” loudly.

“I beg your pardon, gentlemen,” said the Colonel, smiling; “it is. I should have said this is not a hunting expedition. We all have to rough it.”

“I beg pardon, Colonel,” said Lieutenant Denham, giving me a quick look. “Private Moray meant to say the black had been the servant at his home. I had forgotten the man. I remember him now. He was a good hunter and manager of the bullock-wagon we took up the country.”

“Yes, sir,” I said eagerly; “and most useful in all ways.”

“Be able to forage a little for game—eh—if we run short of food?”

“Oh, yes, sir!” I cried.

“That will do, then; let him stay with us.”

Joeboy was straining his ears to catch every word, and I saw his face light up as he caught my eye, and he gave his assagai a flourish.

“Yes,” said the Colonel dryly, for he had had his eye upon the big athletic black; “but tell him that he must obey orders, and not be getting up any fighting upon his own account.”

“He’ll obey me, sir,” I said, speaking so that Joeboy could hear; and he looked at me and nodded.

“That incident is over, then,” said the Colonel sharply. “Now, Mr Denham, take a dozen men and continue the advance. We know now the meaning of last night’s firing; but see what you can find out about the strength of the party holding the pass. Be careful of your party. We are good shots; but recollect they are better, and I want information, not to see you bring back half-a-dozen wounded men.”

“I’ll be careful, sir;” and ten minutes later, to my surprise and delight at the way in which my position had altered during the last half-hour, I was riding close behind Lieutenant Denham, while, proud of his position, Joeboy was on in front, his knowledge of the pass we had just descended being most valuable at such a time, the probabilities tending to point out that he might be able to get well up to right or left of the track and gain a pretty good idea of the strength of the Boers without drawing a shot, whereas the sight of the horsemen, we felt, would have been the signal for a shower of bullets.

Chapter Twelve.Into the Fire.“What about breakfast? Have you had any?” said Denham.“No,” I replied; “but I have some with me;” and taking out a portion of what was left over from the previous afternoon, I proceeded to make up for what was lacking, eating with the better appetite for seeing that Joeboy was busy over one of the big sandwiches provided for him by Aunt Jenny.This done, I seemed to forget my injuries, and rode on with the little troop, watching the agile way in which Joeboy made his way forward, well in advance and showing no sign of fear.Mounted men advancing up the rugged pass had very little chance of keeping themselves concealed. Here and there a bend in the narrow valley helped us; but there was always the knowledge that, if the enemy were in force up by the neck of the pass, they had plenty of niches among the mountains on either side to which they could climb and watch us till well within range of their rifles, when shot after shot and puff after puff of white smoke would appear, with very different effect, I felt, from those fired in the darkness of the past night’s scare.All this was very suggestive of danger; but somehow I did not feel alarmed. There was too much excitement in the business, and I was flushed with a feeling of triumph at being so soon in a position to retaliate upon the people who had used me so ill.I rode on, then, for some distance behind my officer, as I now began to consider him, till the valley opened out, and he reined up a little to allow me to come alongside, so that he could question me about the track higher up. I told him all I could, and endeavoured to impress upon him that it would be a very bad position for his men if the Boers sighted them.“You would find the ground so bad and encumbered with rough stones,” I said, “that it would be impossible to gallop back.”“But we don’t want to gallop back,” he said, with a laugh. “That’s all capital about the bad road, and sounds sensible as a warning; but you must not talk about galloping back. If the enemy does show we shall dismount and use our rifles, retiring slowly from cover to cover. But you’ll soon know our ways in the Light Horse.”“I hope so,” I said; “but of course I am no soldier yet, and very ignorant.”“Not of the use of your rifle, Val, my lad,” he said. “I used to envy you.”“Oh, nonsense!” I said. “Of course I could shoot a bit. My father began to teach me very early.”“I don’t believe I can shoot so well now as you did two years ago, when we went up the country. I don’t know what you can do now. Why, Val, I expect you’ll soon prove yourself to be a better soldier than any of us, for our drill is precious rough; but we are improving every day.”“You have been farther up than this?” I said, to change the conversation, which was making me, a lad accustomed only to our solitary farm-life, feel awkward and uncomfortable, with a suspicion that my companion was bantering me.“No,” he replied; “only about a hundred yards farther than where we met this morning.”“Then you’ll find the riding worse than you expect.”“Well, it will be practice,” he said. “But I say, how that nigger of yours scuffles along! He’s leaving us quite behind.”“He is sure-footed and accustomed to the rocks,” I said as I watched Joeboy, who was getting higher and higher up the precipice to our left, as well as higher up the pass. “He wants to get up to where he can look over the Boers’ position.”“He had better mind,” said Denham. “You ought to have taken away those bits of vanity before he went into action.”“What bits of vanity?” I said.“Those white ostrich-feathers. They make him stand out so clear to a shooter. Ah! he’s down.”Just then Joeboy was seen to drop forward right out of sight.“No,” I said; “that was one of his jumps;” and I spoke confidently, for I had often seen him make goat-like leaps when we had been out shooting among the hills.“You’re wrong,” said my companion confidently. “Poor fellow! let’s get level with the place where he tumbled. I’m sure that was a fall.”“Wait a few minutes,” I said, “and you’ll see him perhaps a hundred yards farther on.”I proved to be quite right, for we soon saw Joeboy climbing steadily on just as I had said, and he kept on getting higher and higher till we were up to the spot where I had passed so unpleasant a night.“My word, you did have a bad time of it! Why, if you had gone over there it would have killed this beautiful little horse of yours.”“Then I shouldn’t have found the Light Horse,” I said quietly; but I couldn’t help feeling a bit of a shiver as I gazed at the depth below where we had stopped.After that, as we rode on, keeping a good lookout, I began to ask a few questions about the war which had so suddenly broken out and come like a surprise upon us at our quiet and retired home.“Oh,” said my companion, “it is only what many people expected. The Boers have never been satisfied about being under England. Plenty of them are sensible enough, and think that the proper thing to do is to attend to their farms and grazing cattle; but there are a set of discontented idiots among them who have stirred them up with a lot of political matter, telling them they are slaves of England’s tyrannical rule, and that it is time to strike for their freedom, till they have believed that they are ill-treated. So now they have risen, and say that they are going to drive all the Rooineks, as they call us English, into the sea, quite forgetting that if we had not helped them the savage tribes around them would have overrun their country and turned them out.”“Will they drive us into the sea?” I asked.“What do you think?” said Denham, with a laugh. “Do you think we are the sort of people to let a party of rough farmers turn us out of Natal, just because they have been stirred up to fight by a gang of political adventurers? Is your father going to give up his farm that he has spent years of his life in making out of the wilderness?”“What?” I cried angrily. “No! I should think not.”“Well, that’s bringing it home to you, my lad. I said your father’s farm. His is only one instance.”“It isn’t as if we wanted to turn the Boers out,” I said.“Of course not. All we want is for them to behave like peaceable neighbours, and obey the laws. They want what they call freedom, which is as good as saying that English laws make people slaves. We don’t feel much like slaves—do we?”“Is that the reason they are at war with us?”“Something of that kind,” said the Lieutenant, “as far as I understand it. All politics, and they are the most quarrelsome things in the world. People are always fighting about them somewhere.”“But—” I began.“Oh, don’t ask me,” said my companion; “that’s as much as I understand about it. All I say is that it’s a great pity people should be shooting at one another over what ought to be settled by a bit of talk. But, I say, look out. What does that mean? Halt!”The men drew rein on the instant, as I looked forward, expecting to see a puff of white smoke ahead, for Joeboy suddenly dropped down behind a block of stone high up in front, and from there began to make signals, just as if he were out in rough ground with me on the veldt and had sighted game.“He has seen the Boers,” I said excitedly. “Look! He says there are hundreds of them.”“No, he doesn’t,” said my companion gruffly; “he’s only flourishing his arms about like a windmill gone mad.”“But that’s his way of signalling a big herd of game,” I said, “and—”Before I could say more,puff, puff, puffarose the tiny white clouds of smoke, followed by the cracking of the rifles, taken up by the echoes till there was a continuous roar; whilephit, phit, phit, bullets began to drop about us, striking the stones, and others passed overhead with an angry buzz like so many big flies.“Retire!” shouted my companion. “It’s of no use to waste ammunition. They’re in strong force up yonder.—Here, you, Moray, what are you about?”“Nothing,” I said sternly; “only looking for my man.”“But didn’t you hear my order?” shouted Denham; and before I could do anything to prevent him he caught Sandho’s rein and put spurs to his horse.“Don’t do that,” I cried angrily. “I can’t go and leave my poor fellow in the lurch. I’m afraid he’s hit.”“I can’t stop here and have my little troop shot down on account of your black.”“But—”“Come on, sir!” shouted Denham; “obey orders. Here, you’re a pretty rough sort of a pup for me to lick into shape,” he added, in a friendly way, as he trotted back amongst the stones. “Recollect you’re a soldier now, without any will of your own. You hand everything over to your officer, and obey him, whether it’s to ride forward into the enemy’s fire or to retire.”“But it’s horrible to leave that poor fellow to his fate,” I said.“More horrible to lose the lives of the party of men entrusted to me. Look here, my lad; it’s an officer’s duty never to throw away a man. If he is obliged to spend a few to carry some point, that’s war and necessary; but to dash them bull-headed against double odds to gain nothing is folly.”“But I can’t go on. Let me stay back and try and help him,” I said passionately.“Certainly not. Be sensible. Look here: you don’t know that he’s hit.”“But he dropped from behind that stone.”“Yes; but that may be his dodge. Perhaps he’s gliding back under cover from stone to stone.”“Perhaps,” I said bitterly. “Look here: if this is your way of going to work I’ve had enough of soldiering.”I rode on unwillingly, expecting to hear a furious tirade from my companion, who still held my rein; but he was silent for a few minutes, while the bullets kept on spattering and whizzing about us without hitting any one.“So you’re tired of soldiering—are you?” said Denham at last.“Yes,” I said hotly. “I never felt such a coward before.”“Rubbish! Look here: you want me to expose my little detachment to the fire of that strongly-posted crowd of Boers, and get half of them shot down, so as to try and pick up your servant.”“No, I don’t,” I replied sharply. “There’s plenty of cover here. I should have got the men behind some of these blocks of stone and returned the fire, so as to keep the enemy in check while I sent two men dismounted to try and bring my man—our guide—in, alive or dead.”“Humph!” said my companion shortly. “Why, I begin to think you are a better soldier than I am;” and, to my intense surprise, he halted the party behind a huge block which divided our way, dismounted half, and sent them out right and loft to seek cover from whence they could reply to the enemy’s fire. Then he turned to me.“You must hold two horses,” he said. “I’ll send two fellows to steal up the gap from stone to stone to try and pick up your man.”“No, no,” I said excitedly. “I’ll go alone.”“Suppose you find him wounded, or—”“Dead?” I said, finishing his sentence.“Yes: you couldn’t carry him in.”“No,” I said, with a sigh. “I’m lame still from the injury to my foot. It hurts me so badly at times that I can hardly ride.”“Hurrah!” came from the right, and the cheer was taken up from the left, whilecrack, crack, crack, rifles were being brought well into play.“What does that mean?” said Denham. “Have they brought down one of the Dutchmen?”He pressed his horse’s sides and rode out from behind the great stone, while I followed him, to learn directly what was the meaning of the cheering. It was plain enough, for there, about five hundred yards up the narrow pass, was Joeboy coming after us at a quick run, dodging round the great stones, and pretty well contriving to keep them between him and the enemy, whose rifles kept on spitting bullets fiercely after him.It was as Denham had suggested. Joeboy had leaped down from behind the stone as soon as he had drawn the enemy’s fire, then started to follow us, running the gauntlet of their bullets, and reaching us in a very short time, flushed, triumphant, and very little out of breath.“Well,” cried Denham, “see the Boers?”“Um!” replied Joeboy.“Were there a great many of them?” I said eagerly, as I sat hoping the poor fellow did not give me the credit of forsaking him in a cowardly way.For answer he held up both hands with fingers and thumbs outspread; dropped them, and raised them once more; and would have kept on for long enough if I had not checked him.“You see,” I said to Denham, “they are in great force up there.”“Yes, and no wonder,” was the reply, “for it’s a very strong position. Now then, all here, and forward once more.”The men ran back into the rallying-place as quickly as so many rabbits, mounted, and once more we were in full retreat, with Joeboy trotting beside my horse holding on to the stirrup-iron, while Denham kept coming to me, to talk.“Just to give you a few lessons in the art of war,” he said, with his eyes twinkling and a laugh beginning to show at their corners. “There, you see we have done exactly what the Colonel wanted us to do: made a regular reconnaissance and drawn the enemy’s fire, proving that he is holding the pass. What the old man will do now remains to be seen. He won’t go up here with us to try and dislodge them, but will try, I expect, to lure them down into the open somewhere, so as to give us a chance at them.”“They’ll be too cunning,” I said. “They fight only from behind stones, and in holes.”“Yes, they’re cunning enough,” said Denham; “but, like all over-clever people, they make mistakes, or find others quite as cunning. Look here: you’ll have to propose some dodge to the Colonel to coax them out to give us a chance.”“I propose a plan to the Colonel?”“Yes. Why not?” said Denham, laughing. “You’ve begun your soldiering by teaching me, and— Oh!”He uttered a sharp cry, and clapped his right hand round to his back.“What is it?” I said excitedly. “Not hit?”“Yes, I’ve got it,” he muttered. “Just look. It hurts horribly. I say, though, that’s a good sign—eh?”The men halted involuntarily behind the stones, and Denham bravely kept his seat till all were under cover, when, refusing to dismount, he slipped off his bandolier and began to unbutton his tunic.“You had better let us help you down,” I suggested.“No; I don’t feel bad enough,” he said through his teeth, speaking viciously as if in great pain. “I don’t think I’m much hurt. See any blood?”“No,” I replied as he threw off his tunic and laid it across his horse’s neck. “Here, look. That’s it. All! there it lies.” For I had made a snatch at a long-shaped bullet, missed it twice, and then sat pointing out where it had fallen. Joeboy snatched it up and handed it to me.“Humph!” said Denham; “then it hasn’t gone through me, or it would have fallen from my back.”“Instead of your chest,” I said. “It must have been partly spent with the long distance it travelled.”“I wish it had been quite spent,” said Denham through his teeth, “Oh, what a fuss I’m making about such a trifle! Nothing worse than having a stone thrown at one.”“It’s gone right through the back of your jacket,” said one of the men. “Look, there’s quite a big hole.”“It has not broken the skin,” I said, examining his back.“No, of course not. Here, give me that jacket again, you. Let’s get it on. This is all waste of time.”He winced a good deal and looked very white; but he bravely mastered his feeling of faintness, and struggled once more into his tunic, suffering greatly, as I could see by the pallor breaking through his sun-browned skin.“Stings a bit,” he said to me as he fastened the buttons; “but it might have been worse—eh, Val? I always was a thick-skinned fellow, and it turns out lucky now. How far is the nearest skirmisher?”“A good thousand yards, I should say,” I replied.“Good, and no mistake, for the distance has saved me, Val, my lad. But what’s that: over half a mile—eh? Not bad shooting, and shows they must have good rifles, bless ’em! Now then, hand me that cartridge-belt, and I should be glad if you’d pass it over my head, for I’m not very ready to move.”“You will have to let the doctor see the place,” I said as I extended the bandolier so as to pass it over his head.“Doctor? Faugh! What do I want with a doctor for this? I’m going to keep quiet, my lad, or the doctor and the Colonel between them will be wanting to invalid me.”“Oh!” I exclaimed sharply.“Hullo!” he cried. “Don’t say you’ve got it too, lad!”“No, no. Look here,” I said, and I held out the cartridge-belt to show where a case was flattened—the brass exterior and the bullet within—while the spring-like holder was broken, and the leather beneath sprayed with lead.“What’s the matter?” said Denham, looking round, and wincing with pain as he changed his position.“It was no spent bullet that struck you,” I said, dragging out the damaged cartridge. “You have the bullet in its brass case to thank for saving your life. Look how they’re flattened.”He took the bolt in his fingers, and then held them out, examining all carefully without a word.“Humph!” he ejaculated at last. “That was a narrow escape. I think I shall save that flattened bullet. Not the sort of thing a man would choose for a back-plate, but it did its work. Yes, I must save that flattened bit and the bullet the Boer shot. They’ll be worth taking out of a drawer some day to show people, if we got safe through the war. There, I’m all right now. Attention! March!”The firing had ceased as he gave the orders, the first word in a sharp military way, the second with a catching gasp, and he fell over sidewise. Fortunately I was close upon his left and caught him in my arms, which were none too strong or ready for such a task; but I managed to hold him tightly clasped round the chest as his horse moved off and his legs sank to the ground. A couple of the men drew rein and dismounted directly to come to my help, they taking him from my arms to lay him upon the stony ground.“Fainted,” I said, dismounting painfully. “Who has a water-bottle?”One was produced directly, and I was busily bathing the poor fellow’s face and trying to trickle a little water between his lips, when we became painfully aware of the fact that we had moved out from cover, forspat, spat, spat, three bullets struck stones near us, making it evident that we were well in view, and that the Boers were making targets of the different members of the group. This was remedied directly; but in spite of the shaking he received in being moved to the rear of the biggest stone, Denham did not open his eyes, but lay there perfectly insensible; while, to add to our difficulties, one of our men, who had retaken their places in cover, to be ready to reply to the fire if a favourable opportunity presented itself, announced that the enemy was steadily advancing down the pass, and evidently with the intention of clearing it of the party of cavalry which had entered between its barren walls.

“What about breakfast? Have you had any?” said Denham.

“No,” I replied; “but I have some with me;” and taking out a portion of what was left over from the previous afternoon, I proceeded to make up for what was lacking, eating with the better appetite for seeing that Joeboy was busy over one of the big sandwiches provided for him by Aunt Jenny.

This done, I seemed to forget my injuries, and rode on with the little troop, watching the agile way in which Joeboy made his way forward, well in advance and showing no sign of fear.

Mounted men advancing up the rugged pass had very little chance of keeping themselves concealed. Here and there a bend in the narrow valley helped us; but there was always the knowledge that, if the enemy were in force up by the neck of the pass, they had plenty of niches among the mountains on either side to which they could climb and watch us till well within range of their rifles, when shot after shot and puff after puff of white smoke would appear, with very different effect, I felt, from those fired in the darkness of the past night’s scare.

All this was very suggestive of danger; but somehow I did not feel alarmed. There was too much excitement in the business, and I was flushed with a feeling of triumph at being so soon in a position to retaliate upon the people who had used me so ill.

I rode on, then, for some distance behind my officer, as I now began to consider him, till the valley opened out, and he reined up a little to allow me to come alongside, so that he could question me about the track higher up. I told him all I could, and endeavoured to impress upon him that it would be a very bad position for his men if the Boers sighted them.

“You would find the ground so bad and encumbered with rough stones,” I said, “that it would be impossible to gallop back.”

“But we don’t want to gallop back,” he said, with a laugh. “That’s all capital about the bad road, and sounds sensible as a warning; but you must not talk about galloping back. If the enemy does show we shall dismount and use our rifles, retiring slowly from cover to cover. But you’ll soon know our ways in the Light Horse.”

“I hope so,” I said; “but of course I am no soldier yet, and very ignorant.”

“Not of the use of your rifle, Val, my lad,” he said. “I used to envy you.”

“Oh, nonsense!” I said. “Of course I could shoot a bit. My father began to teach me very early.”

“I don’t believe I can shoot so well now as you did two years ago, when we went up the country. I don’t know what you can do now. Why, Val, I expect you’ll soon prove yourself to be a better soldier than any of us, for our drill is precious rough; but we are improving every day.”

“You have been farther up than this?” I said, to change the conversation, which was making me, a lad accustomed only to our solitary farm-life, feel awkward and uncomfortable, with a suspicion that my companion was bantering me.

“No,” he replied; “only about a hundred yards farther than where we met this morning.”

“Then you’ll find the riding worse than you expect.”

“Well, it will be practice,” he said. “But I say, how that nigger of yours scuffles along! He’s leaving us quite behind.”

“He is sure-footed and accustomed to the rocks,” I said as I watched Joeboy, who was getting higher and higher up the precipice to our left, as well as higher up the pass. “He wants to get up to where he can look over the Boers’ position.”

“He had better mind,” said Denham. “You ought to have taken away those bits of vanity before he went into action.”

“What bits of vanity?” I said.

“Those white ostrich-feathers. They make him stand out so clear to a shooter. Ah! he’s down.”

Just then Joeboy was seen to drop forward right out of sight.

“No,” I said; “that was one of his jumps;” and I spoke confidently, for I had often seen him make goat-like leaps when we had been out shooting among the hills.

“You’re wrong,” said my companion confidently. “Poor fellow! let’s get level with the place where he tumbled. I’m sure that was a fall.”

“Wait a few minutes,” I said, “and you’ll see him perhaps a hundred yards farther on.”

I proved to be quite right, for we soon saw Joeboy climbing steadily on just as I had said, and he kept on getting higher and higher till we were up to the spot where I had passed so unpleasant a night.

“My word, you did have a bad time of it! Why, if you had gone over there it would have killed this beautiful little horse of yours.”

“Then I shouldn’t have found the Light Horse,” I said quietly; but I couldn’t help feeling a bit of a shiver as I gazed at the depth below where we had stopped.

After that, as we rode on, keeping a good lookout, I began to ask a few questions about the war which had so suddenly broken out and come like a surprise upon us at our quiet and retired home.

“Oh,” said my companion, “it is only what many people expected. The Boers have never been satisfied about being under England. Plenty of them are sensible enough, and think that the proper thing to do is to attend to their farms and grazing cattle; but there are a set of discontented idiots among them who have stirred them up with a lot of political matter, telling them they are slaves of England’s tyrannical rule, and that it is time to strike for their freedom, till they have believed that they are ill-treated. So now they have risen, and say that they are going to drive all the Rooineks, as they call us English, into the sea, quite forgetting that if we had not helped them the savage tribes around them would have overrun their country and turned them out.”

“Will they drive us into the sea?” I asked.

“What do you think?” said Denham, with a laugh. “Do you think we are the sort of people to let a party of rough farmers turn us out of Natal, just because they have been stirred up to fight by a gang of political adventurers? Is your father going to give up his farm that he has spent years of his life in making out of the wilderness?”

“What?” I cried angrily. “No! I should think not.”

“Well, that’s bringing it home to you, my lad. I said your father’s farm. His is only one instance.”

“It isn’t as if we wanted to turn the Boers out,” I said.

“Of course not. All we want is for them to behave like peaceable neighbours, and obey the laws. They want what they call freedom, which is as good as saying that English laws make people slaves. We don’t feel much like slaves—do we?”

“Is that the reason they are at war with us?”

“Something of that kind,” said the Lieutenant, “as far as I understand it. All politics, and they are the most quarrelsome things in the world. People are always fighting about them somewhere.”

“But—” I began.

“Oh, don’t ask me,” said my companion; “that’s as much as I understand about it. All I say is that it’s a great pity people should be shooting at one another over what ought to be settled by a bit of talk. But, I say, look out. What does that mean? Halt!”

The men drew rein on the instant, as I looked forward, expecting to see a puff of white smoke ahead, for Joeboy suddenly dropped down behind a block of stone high up in front, and from there began to make signals, just as if he were out in rough ground with me on the veldt and had sighted game.

“He has seen the Boers,” I said excitedly. “Look! He says there are hundreds of them.”

“No, he doesn’t,” said my companion gruffly; “he’s only flourishing his arms about like a windmill gone mad.”

“But that’s his way of signalling a big herd of game,” I said, “and—”

Before I could say more,puff, puff, puffarose the tiny white clouds of smoke, followed by the cracking of the rifles, taken up by the echoes till there was a continuous roar; whilephit, phit, phit, bullets began to drop about us, striking the stones, and others passed overhead with an angry buzz like so many big flies.

“Retire!” shouted my companion. “It’s of no use to waste ammunition. They’re in strong force up yonder.—Here, you, Moray, what are you about?”

“Nothing,” I said sternly; “only looking for my man.”

“But didn’t you hear my order?” shouted Denham; and before I could do anything to prevent him he caught Sandho’s rein and put spurs to his horse.

“Don’t do that,” I cried angrily. “I can’t go and leave my poor fellow in the lurch. I’m afraid he’s hit.”

“I can’t stop here and have my little troop shot down on account of your black.”

“But—”

“Come on, sir!” shouted Denham; “obey orders. Here, you’re a pretty rough sort of a pup for me to lick into shape,” he added, in a friendly way, as he trotted back amongst the stones. “Recollect you’re a soldier now, without any will of your own. You hand everything over to your officer, and obey him, whether it’s to ride forward into the enemy’s fire or to retire.”

“But it’s horrible to leave that poor fellow to his fate,” I said.

“More horrible to lose the lives of the party of men entrusted to me. Look here, my lad; it’s an officer’s duty never to throw away a man. If he is obliged to spend a few to carry some point, that’s war and necessary; but to dash them bull-headed against double odds to gain nothing is folly.”

“But I can’t go on. Let me stay back and try and help him,” I said passionately.

“Certainly not. Be sensible. Look here: you don’t know that he’s hit.”

“But he dropped from behind that stone.”

“Yes; but that may be his dodge. Perhaps he’s gliding back under cover from stone to stone.”

“Perhaps,” I said bitterly. “Look here: if this is your way of going to work I’ve had enough of soldiering.”

I rode on unwillingly, expecting to hear a furious tirade from my companion, who still held my rein; but he was silent for a few minutes, while the bullets kept on spattering and whizzing about us without hitting any one.

“So you’re tired of soldiering—are you?” said Denham at last.

“Yes,” I said hotly. “I never felt such a coward before.”

“Rubbish! Look here: you want me to expose my little detachment to the fire of that strongly-posted crowd of Boers, and get half of them shot down, so as to try and pick up your servant.”

“No, I don’t,” I replied sharply. “There’s plenty of cover here. I should have got the men behind some of these blocks of stone and returned the fire, so as to keep the enemy in check while I sent two men dismounted to try and bring my man—our guide—in, alive or dead.”

“Humph!” said my companion shortly. “Why, I begin to think you are a better soldier than I am;” and, to my intense surprise, he halted the party behind a huge block which divided our way, dismounted half, and sent them out right and loft to seek cover from whence they could reply to the enemy’s fire. Then he turned to me.

“You must hold two horses,” he said. “I’ll send two fellows to steal up the gap from stone to stone to try and pick up your man.”

“No, no,” I said excitedly. “I’ll go alone.”

“Suppose you find him wounded, or—”

“Dead?” I said, finishing his sentence.

“Yes: you couldn’t carry him in.”

“No,” I said, with a sigh. “I’m lame still from the injury to my foot. It hurts me so badly at times that I can hardly ride.”

“Hurrah!” came from the right, and the cheer was taken up from the left, whilecrack, crack, crack, rifles were being brought well into play.

“What does that mean?” said Denham. “Have they brought down one of the Dutchmen?”

He pressed his horse’s sides and rode out from behind the great stone, while I followed him, to learn directly what was the meaning of the cheering. It was plain enough, for there, about five hundred yards up the narrow pass, was Joeboy coming after us at a quick run, dodging round the great stones, and pretty well contriving to keep them between him and the enemy, whose rifles kept on spitting bullets fiercely after him.

It was as Denham had suggested. Joeboy had leaped down from behind the stone as soon as he had drawn the enemy’s fire, then started to follow us, running the gauntlet of their bullets, and reaching us in a very short time, flushed, triumphant, and very little out of breath.

“Well,” cried Denham, “see the Boers?”

“Um!” replied Joeboy.

“Were there a great many of them?” I said eagerly, as I sat hoping the poor fellow did not give me the credit of forsaking him in a cowardly way.

For answer he held up both hands with fingers and thumbs outspread; dropped them, and raised them once more; and would have kept on for long enough if I had not checked him.

“You see,” I said to Denham, “they are in great force up there.”

“Yes, and no wonder,” was the reply, “for it’s a very strong position. Now then, all here, and forward once more.”

The men ran back into the rallying-place as quickly as so many rabbits, mounted, and once more we were in full retreat, with Joeboy trotting beside my horse holding on to the stirrup-iron, while Denham kept coming to me, to talk.

“Just to give you a few lessons in the art of war,” he said, with his eyes twinkling and a laugh beginning to show at their corners. “There, you see we have done exactly what the Colonel wanted us to do: made a regular reconnaissance and drawn the enemy’s fire, proving that he is holding the pass. What the old man will do now remains to be seen. He won’t go up here with us to try and dislodge them, but will try, I expect, to lure them down into the open somewhere, so as to give us a chance at them.”

“They’ll be too cunning,” I said. “They fight only from behind stones, and in holes.”

“Yes, they’re cunning enough,” said Denham; “but, like all over-clever people, they make mistakes, or find others quite as cunning. Look here: you’ll have to propose some dodge to the Colonel to coax them out to give us a chance.”

“I propose a plan to the Colonel?”

“Yes. Why not?” said Denham, laughing. “You’ve begun your soldiering by teaching me, and— Oh!”

He uttered a sharp cry, and clapped his right hand round to his back.

“What is it?” I said excitedly. “Not hit?”

“Yes, I’ve got it,” he muttered. “Just look. It hurts horribly. I say, though, that’s a good sign—eh?”

The men halted involuntarily behind the stones, and Denham bravely kept his seat till all were under cover, when, refusing to dismount, he slipped off his bandolier and began to unbutton his tunic.

“You had better let us help you down,” I suggested.

“No; I don’t feel bad enough,” he said through his teeth, speaking viciously as if in great pain. “I don’t think I’m much hurt. See any blood?”

“No,” I replied as he threw off his tunic and laid it across his horse’s neck. “Here, look. That’s it. All! there it lies.” For I had made a snatch at a long-shaped bullet, missed it twice, and then sat pointing out where it had fallen. Joeboy snatched it up and handed it to me.

“Humph!” said Denham; “then it hasn’t gone through me, or it would have fallen from my back.”

“Instead of your chest,” I said. “It must have been partly spent with the long distance it travelled.”

“I wish it had been quite spent,” said Denham through his teeth, “Oh, what a fuss I’m making about such a trifle! Nothing worse than having a stone thrown at one.”

“It’s gone right through the back of your jacket,” said one of the men. “Look, there’s quite a big hole.”

“It has not broken the skin,” I said, examining his back.

“No, of course not. Here, give me that jacket again, you. Let’s get it on. This is all waste of time.”

He winced a good deal and looked very white; but he bravely mastered his feeling of faintness, and struggled once more into his tunic, suffering greatly, as I could see by the pallor breaking through his sun-browned skin.

“Stings a bit,” he said to me as he fastened the buttons; “but it might have been worse—eh, Val? I always was a thick-skinned fellow, and it turns out lucky now. How far is the nearest skirmisher?”

“A good thousand yards, I should say,” I replied.

“Good, and no mistake, for the distance has saved me, Val, my lad. But what’s that: over half a mile—eh? Not bad shooting, and shows they must have good rifles, bless ’em! Now then, hand me that cartridge-belt, and I should be glad if you’d pass it over my head, for I’m not very ready to move.”

“You will have to let the doctor see the place,” I said as I extended the bandolier so as to pass it over his head.

“Doctor? Faugh! What do I want with a doctor for this? I’m going to keep quiet, my lad, or the doctor and the Colonel between them will be wanting to invalid me.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed sharply.

“Hullo!” he cried. “Don’t say you’ve got it too, lad!”

“No, no. Look here,” I said, and I held out the cartridge-belt to show where a case was flattened—the brass exterior and the bullet within—while the spring-like holder was broken, and the leather beneath sprayed with lead.

“What’s the matter?” said Denham, looking round, and wincing with pain as he changed his position.

“It was no spent bullet that struck you,” I said, dragging out the damaged cartridge. “You have the bullet in its brass case to thank for saving your life. Look how they’re flattened.”

He took the bolt in his fingers, and then held them out, examining all carefully without a word.

“Humph!” he ejaculated at last. “That was a narrow escape. I think I shall save that flattened bullet. Not the sort of thing a man would choose for a back-plate, but it did its work. Yes, I must save that flattened bit and the bullet the Boer shot. They’ll be worth taking out of a drawer some day to show people, if we got safe through the war. There, I’m all right now. Attention! March!”

The firing had ceased as he gave the orders, the first word in a sharp military way, the second with a catching gasp, and he fell over sidewise. Fortunately I was close upon his left and caught him in my arms, which were none too strong or ready for such a task; but I managed to hold him tightly clasped round the chest as his horse moved off and his legs sank to the ground. A couple of the men drew rein and dismounted directly to come to my help, they taking him from my arms to lay him upon the stony ground.

“Fainted,” I said, dismounting painfully. “Who has a water-bottle?”

One was produced directly, and I was busily bathing the poor fellow’s face and trying to trickle a little water between his lips, when we became painfully aware of the fact that we had moved out from cover, forspat, spat, spat, three bullets struck stones near us, making it evident that we were well in view, and that the Boers were making targets of the different members of the group. This was remedied directly; but in spite of the shaking he received in being moved to the rear of the biggest stone, Denham did not open his eyes, but lay there perfectly insensible; while, to add to our difficulties, one of our men, who had retaken their places in cover, to be ready to reply to the fire if a favourable opportunity presented itself, announced that the enemy was steadily advancing down the pass, and evidently with the intention of clearing it of the party of cavalry which had entered between its barren walls.

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