"Yes," said Ingleborough sharply, "and there's what we don't want, far nearer to us than I like."

"Where?" asked West sharply.

"Straight behind us!"

"Why, Ingle," cried West, in despair, "they've been following us all through the night!"

"No," said Ingleborough, shading his eyes with his hand; "that's a different patrol, I feel sure, coming from another direction."

"What shall we do?"

"Ride straight for that kopje; we're between it and the patrol, and perhaps they won't see us. If they do we must gallop away."

"But suppose this kopje proves to be occupied?" said West. "We don't want to be taken prisoners again."

"That's the truest speech you've made for twenty-four hours, my lad," said Ingleborough coolly, "but, all the same, that seems to be the wisest thing to do."

"Make for the kopje?"

"Yes, for we want water, shelter, and rest."

"But if the Boers are there too?"

"Hang it, lad, there aren't enough of the brutes to occupy every kopje in the country; some of them must be left for poor fellows in such a mess as we are."

"Ride on and chance it then?"

"To be sure!" was the reply; and they went on at a steady canter straight for the clump in front, a mile or so away, turning every now and then to watch the line of horsemen which seemed to be going at right angles to their track. Just as they reached the outskirts of the eminence the leading files of the patrol bore off a little and the fugitives had the misery of seeing that the enemy they wished to avoid seemed to be aiming straight for the place they had intended for a refuge, while to have ridden out to right or left meant going full in sight of the patrol.

To make matters worse, the sun was beginning to light up the stony tops of the kopje, and in a very few minutes the lower portions would be glowing in the morning rays.

"Cheer up!" said Ingleborough; "it's a big one! Now then, dismount and lead horses! Here's cover enough to hide in now, and we may be able to get round to the other side without being seen."

"And then?"

"Oh, we won't intrude our company upon the enemy; let's ride off as fast as we can."



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

FALSE ALARMS.

The bottom and surroundings of the eminence afforded plenty of cover, and the fugitives pushed on in and out among dense patches of low growth, and, leading their sure-footed little ponies, they climbed over and around piles and masses of stone that would have been difficulties even to mules, while twice over West scaled a slope so as to carefully look down and backward at the enemy.

This he was able to do unseen, and came down again to report that the patrol was still making for the kopje as if for rest, but that their movements were too careless and deliberate for those of an enemy in pursuit.

The far side of the pile of granite and ironstone was reached in safety, placing the fugitives about a quarter of a mile from the Boers in a direct line, but quite a mile of intricate climbing if measured by the distance round; and they paused in a green patch full of refreshing beauty, being a wide ravine stretching up into the height, and with a bubbling stream of water running outward and inviting the ponies at once to take their fill.

"This settles it at once!" said Ingleborough, letting his bridle fall upon his mount's neck.

"Yes; we can go well in yonder, leading the ponies along the bed of the stream. There is plenty of cover to hide half a regiment."

"Of Boers," said Ingleborough shortly. "It will not do for us."

"Why?" said West, staring. "We can hide there till they have gone."

"My dear boy," said Ingleborough; "can't you see? The beggars evidently know this place, and are making for it on account of the water. We saw none on the other side."

"Very well," said West sharply; "let's ride off, and keep the hill between us and them."

"Too late!" said Ingleborough. "This way; come on!"

For as he spoke there was the loud beating noise of many hoofs, indicating that the whole or a portion of the commando was coming at a gallop round the opposite side of the kopje from that by which the fugitives had come; and to have started then would have meant a gallop in full sight of a large body of men ready to deliver a rifle-fire of which they would have had to run the gauntlet.

"We're entering another trap," said West bitterly, as they led their reluctant ponies along the bed of the stream, fortunately for them too stony for any discoloration to be borne down to show the keen-eyed Boers that someone had passed that way, and at the same time yielding no impress of the footprints of man or beast.

As far as the fugitives could see, the ravine went in a devious course a couple of hundred yards into the eminence, but, as it proved, nearly across to the other side. It was darkened by overhanging trees and creepers, which found a hold in every ledge or crack of the almost perpendicular sides, and grew darker and darker at every score of yards; but the echoing rocks gave them full notice of what was going on near the entrance, the voices of the Boers and the splashing noise of their horses' feet coming with many repetitions to drown any sound made by their own.

"It isn't a bad place!" said Ingleborough, as they hurried on, with the ravine growing more narrow and the sides coming more sharply down into the water. "It strikes me that we shall find the water comes out of some cave."

Five minutes later Ingleborough proved to be quite correct, for they paused at a rugged archway between piled-up fern-hung blocks, out of which the water rushed in a fairly large volume, but not knee-deep; and, upon leaving his horse with his comrade and boldly wading in, West found that the cave expanded as soon as the entrance was passed, so that the spring ran outward along a narrow stony bed, and on either side there was a bed of sand of considerable width.

"Come along!" said West. "The water gets shallower, and there is a dry place on either side."

Ingleborough waded in at once, but unfortunately the ponies shrank from following, and hung back from the reins, one of them uttering a loud snort, which was repeated from the interior so loudly that the second animal reared up wildly and endeavoured to break away.

West dashed back though directly and relieved his companion of one of the refractory beasts, when by means of a good deal of coaxing and patting they were finally got along for some yards and out onto the sandy side, where they whinnied out their satisfaction and recovered their confidence sufficiently to step towards the running waters and resume their interrupted drink.

"Rifles!" said Ingleborough shortly, when West unslung his and stood ready, following his companion's example as he stood in the darkness with his piece pointing out at the bright stream with its mossy and fern-hung framing.

"Did you hear anyone coming?" whispered West.

"No, but they must have heard our ponies and be coming on," was the reply.

"Let them come; we can keep the whole gang at bay from here!"

But five minutes' watching and listening proved that they had not been heard, for the Boers were too busy watering their horses, the voices of the men and the splashings and tramplings of the beasts coming in reverberations right along the natural speaking-tube, to strike clearly upon the listeners' ears.

Three several times the fugitives stood on guard with rifles cocked, ready to make a determined effort to defend their post of vantage, for the voices came nearer and nearer, and splashing sounds indicated movements out towards the mouth of the ravine; but just when their nerves were strained to the utmost, and they watched with starting eyes a corner round which the enemy would have to turn to bring them within range, the talking and splashing died out, and they simultaneously uttered a sigh of relief.

"I couldn't bear much of this, Ingle," said West, at last. "I half think that I would rather have them come on so that we could get into the excitement of a fight."

"I don't half think so, lad; I do quite," replied Ingleborough.

"But you don't want to fight?"

"Of course not; I don't want to feel that I've killed anybody; but at the same time I'd rather kill several Boers than they should kill me. However, I hope they will not attack us, for if they do I mean to shoot as straight as I can and as often as is necessary. What do you say?"

West was silent for a few moments, during which he seemed to be thinking out the position. At last he spoke: "I have never given the Boers any reason for trying to destroy my life, my only crime being that I am English. So, as life is very sweet and I want to live as long as I can, I shall do as you do till they get disheartened, for I don't see how they can get at us, and—"

"Here, quick, lad!" whispered Ingleborough, swinging round. "We're attacked from behind!"

West followed his example, feeling fully convinced that the Boers had after all seen them seek refuge in the cavern, and had taken advantage of their knowledge of the place to creep through some tunnel which led in from the other side, for there was a strange scuffling and rustling sound a little way in, where it was quite dark. With rifles pointed towards the spot and with fingers on triggers, the two friends waited anxiously for some further development, so as to avoid firing blindly into the cavern without injury to the enemy while leaving themselves unloaded when their foes rushed on.

"Can't be Boers!" said Ingleborough, at the end of a minute, during which the noise went on; "it's wild beasts of some kind."

"Lions," suggested West.

"Oh no; they'd go about as softly as cats! More like a pack of hyaenas trying to get up their courage for a charge!"

"If we fired and stood on one side they'd rush out!" replied West.

"Yes," said Ingleborough grimly; "and the Boers would rush in to see what was the matter. That wouldn't do, for it's evident that they don't know we're here."

"But we must do something, or they'll injure the horses! Why!" cried West excitedly; "it must be that they've pulled the poor beasts down and are devouring them."

"Without our little Basutos making a kick for life? Nonsense! They'd squeal and kick and rush out. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"

To West's astonishment his companion burst into a prolonged fit of gentle laughter.

"Here, come along!" he said. "Of all the larky beggars! Here, you two ruffians, stow that, or you'll smash up those saddles!"

Ingleborough dashed in, followed at once by West, and as they got in further from the cave's mouth they dimly saw their mounts spring up from having a good roll and wriggle upon the soft dry sand to rest their spines and get rid of the larvae of some worrying pernicious horse-fly.

The moment the two ponies were on all-fours they gave themselves a vigorous shake, and then whinnied softly and advanced to their riders with out-stretched necks, expectant of a piece of bread or some other delicacy with which they had been petted from time to time.

"Why, you larky little rascals!" cried Ingleborough, patting the two beasts affectionately; "what do you mean by frightening us out of our seven senses? I mean frightening me, for you weren't scared a bit—eh, West?"

"Frightened? It was horrible! I can understand now why the Boers can't bear being attacked from behind!"

"Of course! I say, though, no wonder children are afraid of being in the dark." He turned to the ponies, and said: "Look here, my lads, I suppose you don't understand me, but if you could take my advice you'd lie down to have a good rest. It would do you both good, and if the firing did begin you'd escape being hit."

To this one of the ponies whinnied softly, and then moved gently to its companion's side, head to tail, bared its big teeth as if to bite, and began to draw them along the lower part of the other's spine, beginning at the root of the tail and rasping away right up to the saddle, while the operatee stretched out its neck and set to work in the same way upon the operator, upon the give-and-take principle, both animals grunting softly and uttering low sounds that could only be compared to bleats or purrs.

"They say there's nothing so pleasant in life as scratching where you itch," said West, laughing. "My word! They do seem to enjoy it."

"Poor beggars, yes!" replied Ingleborough. "I believe there's no country in the world where animals are more tortured by flies than in Africa. The wretched insects plunge in that sharp instrument of theirs, pierce the skin, and leave an egg underneath; the warmth of the body hatches it into what we fishing boys called a gentle, and that white maggot goes on eating and growing under the poor animal's coat, living on hot meat always till it is full-grown, when its skin dries up and turns reddish-brown, and it lies still for a bit, before changing into a fly, which escapes from the hole in the skin it has eaten and flits away to go and torture more animals."

"And not only horses, but other animals!" said West quietly.

"Horses only? Oh no; the bullocks get them terribly, and the various kinds of antelopes as well. I've seen skins taken off blesboks and wildebeestes full of holes. And there you are, my lad; that's a lecture on natural history."

"Given in the queerest place and at the strangest time a lecture was ever given anywhere," said West.

"It is very horrible, though, for the animals to be tortured so!"

"Yes," said Ingleborough thoughtfully; "but the flies must enjoy themselves wonderfully. They must have what people in England call a high old time, and—eh? What's the matter?"

"Be ready!" whispered West. "Someone coming; there's no mistake now!"



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

A REAL ALARM.

Ingleborough drew in his breath with a hiss, and once more stood on his guard with his comrade right in the darkness, and in front of the two ponies, where a good view of the stream outside and the corner rock fringed with ferns could be obtained.

For voices could be heard as of two men talking together, while plash, plash, plash their footsteps in the water echoed for some moments from the rocky sides of the chasm, before they came leisurely into sight round the corner and stood knee-deep looking straight into the cave, little thinking of the peril in which they were, for a couple of rifles covered them, and the slightest pressure upon the triggers would have sent the long thin bullets upon their errand to pierce the Boers through and through.

But no pressure came, those within the cavern seeing clearly enough from the men's careless manner that they felt perfectly safe and were upon no unusual errand.

They were roughly enough clad, and their outer garments showed that they had been slept in for some time and exposed to all kinds of weather; but there was something about their mien, and more in the words they let fall, which showed them to belong to a superior type of Boer.

"Yes, there it is," said one of the two in Boer-Dutch, "just as it was ten years ago when I was here on a hunting trip. The source is perennial, and beautiful water. That's why I wanted Dietz to come out of our way."

"Does it go in far?"

"About a hundred yards, and there the water suddenly gushes out of the floor; but there are some nasty holes about, plunging down no one knows how deep, and I shouldn't like to venture in without a light."

"Why didn't we bring a lantern?"

"Because we don't want to go burrowing into the kopje."

"Speak for yourself. I do!" said the second man. "Here, I've got plenty of matches—come along."

"No, thank you," said the first. "One never knows what may be in a place like that."

West pinched his companion's arm.

"What is likely to be there?"

"Who can tell? A lioness and her full-grown cubs, perhaps, or a pack of jackals! Worse still, snakes or some of the wandering bushmen with bows and poisoned arrows."

"Hardly likely!" said the second Boer.

"I think very likely," said the first speaker, peering so steadfastly into the cavern that for a few moments West felt certain that they were seen. "One of the Kaffir tribes would not enter that place to save their lives."

"Why?"

"Because they believe that a great water demon hides in the spring who rises up and seizes anyone who approaches, drags him down, and devours him."

"All of which must be perfectly true!" answered the other Boer, with a sneer. "Of course you are a believer?"

"I'm a full believer in its being dangerous to go into caves without proper lights," said the first speaker coldly, "and I think we are undergoing risks enough every day from the rooineks' rifles and their lancers' spears, without chancing a fall down some horrible pit."

"Where there is a water demon!" said his companion, with another sneer.

"Just for the sake of gratifying a little idle curiosity."

"Oh, very well then! I don't like to come to such a natural curiosity without exploring; so here goes alone."

The next moment the first speaker had stretched out his hand and barred his companion's way with his rifle.

"What do you mean by that?" cried the Boer.

"To stop you going."

"What!" cried the other. "I shall go if I please!"

"No!" said the first speaker sternly. "I order you not!"

"You—you order me?" cried the other wrathfully.

"Yes; recollect that you are a soldier for the time being, and under my command. I order you not to go, for we have too much need of all our brave burghers to defend the country to let any man risk his life in a foolhardy adventure."

"Pish!"

"Silence!" said the other sternly. "I am going back. Had I known of this, I would not have let you come!"

"Look here," said the other insolently, "we are not on duty now, and once for all I tell you that while I serve I am not going to put up with bullying from any man who is a step above me in the ranks."

The first speaker looked at him sternly, and Ingleborough placed his lips close to West's ear.

"Look here," said Ingleborough, "if we shoot, both take aim at that obstinate brute, and give the other a chance to run for his life!"

A nod was the only answer, as both listened to what was said further.

"You fellows, because you get made field-cornets by a bit of luck, don't know how to contain yourselves, and—"

"Back to your horse!" said the first speaker, the veins in whose forehead stood out in a network beneath his flap-brimmed hat, while his voice sounded full of suppressed fury.

"Back yourself!" cried the other. "I'll obey your orders in the field, but we of the Free State are getting tired of the overbearing ways of you men of the Transvaal. Put down your rifle, sir! By all that's holy, if you hold it towards me in that threatening way, I'll send a Mauser bullet through you. If I die for it, I will."

At that moment, just as there seemed to be every possibility of a deadly encounter between the two men, there was a loud hail from beyond the rock, and, as it was not replied to, another cry was heard, in company with loud echoing splashes in the water, and half-a-dozen Boers waded into sight, evidently in a high state of excitement.

"Hullo there!" shouted the foremost, "didn't you hear us call? We began to think you had fallen into an ambush! Quick, back with you: there's a patrol of the rooineks out yonder coming this way, the mounted men with the spiked poles."

"Many or few?" said the man addressed as the field-cornet, and, apparently forgetting his anger in the excitement, he began to hurry away from the cavern mouth, talking loudly the while. "I'll see! If they'll come on, we'll stay here; if not, we might try and surround them and capture the whole gang!"

The next minute the walls of the gully were echoing the hurried splashing made by the party, as the last of them turned the corner and disappeared across the veldt.

"Phew! What a pity!" said Ingleborough, taking off his hat to wipe his forehead.

"A pity!" cried West. "What: the news that some of our people are near?"

"No, no; I meant that the row came to an end. I was in hopes that we were going to have a new version of the Kilkenny cats, and two enemies of Old England were going to tear each other to pieces and leave only a tail behind."

"Oh, be serious, Ingle!" said West excitedly. "We might venture out now."

"Don't be rash! We've got to find out what they mean to do."

"Come along then, and let's leave the horses where they are. We must try and climb up somewhere to see what is going on."

"Very well, but take care! These are awfully breakneck walls to mount."

"Yes, but it has to be done! Why not up that crack?"

West pointed to a rift half-full of wiry-looking shrubs mingled with ferns, which ran up the rocky wall of the gully diagonally.

"Think you can do it?"

"Yes, it's easier than it looks. Let's try!"

"Right!" said Ingleborough. "Up you go!"

West waded across to the side, slinging his rifle as he went, then pulling his hat on tightly, he reached up as high as he could, and drew himself up a foot or two. Then, carefully taking advantage of the angles and edges of projecting rocks for his feet and getting hand-hold of the tough shrubs, he was soon up twenty feet above the rushing stream.

"Come along!" he said. "It's not bad climbing!"

"Matter of opinion," replied Ingleborough, "but here goes!" and he began to mount, while West went on.

"Oh yes," he said, "it's all right! Why, it puts one in mind of the Lady—I say, lad, ugh!—that was slippy!"

"Hold on then!" cried West excitedly, for one of Ingleborough's feet glided over the edge of a stone, which yielded, and he was left hanging by his hands, to strive to get a footing.

"Get out!" said Ingleborough, panting. "That's better. Just as if I shouldn't hold on! Think I wanted a cold bath?"

"You gave me quite a turn!" said West. "Will you leave it to me? I can manage it!"

"Go on, you vain young coxcomb! So can I manage it! If you don't look out, I'll be up first! Well, what are you stopping for?"

"Look down there!" said West.

Ingleborough held on tightly while he twisted his head to see that the two ponies had hurried out of the cave to wade to the place where they had started from, and were looking up wonderingly.

"Ha, ha!" laughed Ingleborough. "They're afraid of being left behind! Here, you two, be off back into your stable," he continued, getting hold of a loose piece of rock with the intention of dropping it into the water to scare the lookers-on.

"No, no, don't do that!" said West softly. "You may scare them into cantering down into the midst of the Boers!"

"Right," said Ingleborough, replacing the stone. "I don't suppose they'll mind."

At that moment one of the ponies whinnied, and the other took up the cry of discontent.

"Quiet, will you? Look here!" said Ingleborough, speaking as if in the full belief that the two animals understood every word. "If you make that row, you'll have the Boers down upon us, and that will mean new masters, with worse treatment than you get from us! That's settled them," continued Ingleborough, speaking again to his companion, and as it happened the two animals did not repeat their challenging cry, but began to nibble at the greenery overhanging the water.

Meanwhile the climbing grew more difficult as the adventurers got higher and more excited, for all at once the rapid crack-crack-crack of rifles began telling of attack and defence, and making the climbers strain every effort to get to the top, which was at last accomplished by West, who drew himself over the edge of the rocks and lay panting for a few moments before looking down.

"Can't you manage it?" he said; for Ingleborough had come to a stand some twenty feet below.

"No!" was the reply. "My right foot has slipped into a crack here, and is wedged tight. Don't wait for me! Go on, only let's have all the news as soon as you can!"

West's first idea was to lower himself down; but, feeling that one was enough to find out all they wanted, he obeyed his comrade's orders and went on climbing upon all-fours what was now an easy slope with plenty of cover in the shape of bushes and huge blocks of stone.

A few minutes brought him to the top of the kopje, whence he had a clear view of all that was going on, while the firing was now general.

He saw at a glance that the Boers had not attempted to hold the natural stronghold, for upon discovering their numbers, the half-troop of lancers, some thirty in number, had begun to retire, and the Boers, of whom there seemed to be about a hundred and fifty, were streaming out in two directions, evidently with the intention of surrounding and taking them prisoners, both sides keeping up a steady fire the while. West stopped no longer than was necessary to satisfy himself that the Boers were getting rapidly farther and farther from the kopje, and then hurried back down the slope to the top of the gully, where, leaning over, he found Ingleborough busy at work, apparently driving his rifle-barrel down into a crevice. "Ahoy!" cried West. "Hallo there! What news, lad?"

"Small party of lancers in full retreat, and the Boers very strong in pursuit. They're a mile away now."

"Then we shall get no help from our people; but, if they are taking the enemy away, that's all we want. Coming down?"

"Yes," said West, lowering himself over the edge very cautiously, for it was terribly dangerous work, and Ingleborough shivered and hung back, watching him till his companion reached the ledge where he had been checked.

"Hah!" sighed Ingleborough; "that's better. I've been wishing for the last five minutes that the stream below was ten feet deep!"

"Why?" panted West, who was breathless from his exertions.

"For you to fall into! But now help me to get my boot! I'm afraid to lever it out with my rifle-barrel, for fear of bending it."

"Let me try!" said West, and, thrusting his arm down into the crack, he got well hold of the boot, gave it a jerk sidewise, and it was free.

"Look at that now!" said Ingleborough. "My word! it's a fine thing to have been born clever. How did you do it?"

"Pulled it out," replied West, smiling.

"Of course; but I couldn't! It took me all my time to get it unlaced and to draw out my foot. Stuck, for it was so wet!"

In another five minutes, while the cracking of the rifle-fire was growing more distant, the boot was replaced, the dangerous descent continued, with several slips and slides, each saving his friend in turn from a bad fall, and the pair reached the water only minus a little skin, to be welcomed by their ponies, who came up to them at once, ready to be led cautiously to the entrance of the gully.

But there was no need for the extra care, inspection proving that no Boers were left behind, and that they were too far distant now to distinguish what went on at the resting-place they had left.

"Think they'll make the lancers prisoners?" said West, after they had stood scanning the level veldt for some minutes.

"Not unless they can surround them, and I should give our cavalry credit for being too cautious to let them do that!" said Ingleborough. "Now then, what do you say for another try Mafeking-ward?"

"Forward!" was the reply, and after a glance at the compass to lay down their course, the friends mounted and, refreshed, though not much rested, they cantered off, making a bee-line almost due north, with the intention of cautiously approaching some farm on their way to purchase food.



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

AT TANTE ANN'S.

It was growing dark before a suitable place presented itself, this being a typical Boer farm in a very desolate part of the veldt, the spot having been evidently chosen by its occupants on account of the tiny kopje and abundant supply of water welling out, besides being a perfect spot for the branch of farming the owner carried on, there being pen after pen of ostriches, the great foolish-looking large-eyed birds staring at the two horsemen wonderingly as they approached the door where the owner stood looking distant and glum, as he smoked his big pipe.

Yes, he said, he would sell them some provisions for themselves and corn for their horses if they had money to pay for what they wanted.

This was at once produced, and the farmer looked on after summoning a huge Kaffir to help with the horses and get out the corn; while his fat wife, after coming to the door to glare at the visitors, condescended to put on a kettle to prepare them tea, and see if there was a chicken that could be killed and broiled, and some eggs for frying.

There were several bits of consultation carried on by the husband and wife from time to time, and everything showed that the visitors were far from welcome.

"Never mind," said Ingleborough; "all we want is a good meal, and we shall be off in the morning as soon as it is light."

"That shed with the iron roof is to be our bedroom, I suppose?" said West.

"Yes, and we're lucky to get that and a few sacks."

Just then the Boer came slowly sidling up, smoking hard the while, to know if they had seen anything of the war, and he seemed deeply interested on hearing that a skirmish had been going on not so many miles from his farm.

"Why are you two not fighting?" he said suddenly.

"Because we don't want to," was West's smiling reply.

"But you are Englanders?" said the Boer.

"Yes, but all Englanders don't want to fight," said West, while Ingleborough looked on, quite unmoved.

"Oh, don't tell, me!" said the Boer, shaking his head. "They all want to fight and kill the Boers before robbing them of their homes and farms. Don't tell me—I know!"

He walked away to where the Kaffir was seeing to the horses, and West noticed that he took a good deal of notice of them, glanced two or three times in the direction of his visitors, and then ran his hands down their legs in a most professional way, narrowly escaping a kick from West's steed, before he walked thoughtfully back to his rough—looking house, into which he was careful not to allow his guests to enter.

"We're to share the stable with the nags," said Ingleborough; "but it doesn't matter. Let's go and see how they are getting on," he continued, as the Boer disappeared indoors. "We can't afford to have them fed on some of his lordship's refuse. I know something of the tricks of these gentlemen of old."

They entered the rough stable, where the big Kaffir was standing on one side and greeted them with a heavy scowl.

"Well, Jack," said Ingleborough, "are the ponies eating their corn?"

"Yes, baas," said the black gruffly; "eat um all fast."

"Ah, I thought so," said Ingleborough quietly, sniffing and blowing on the musty trash. "Do you feed your horses on stuff like this?"

He turned so sharply on the Kaffir that the man shrank as if from a blow; but his questioner smiled.

"Not your fault, I suppose?"

"Baas say, 'Give ponies thaht,'" he replied apologetically.

"Of course, my lad," said Ingleborough, drawing out a shilling and slipping it into the black's hand.

"Now you get some of the best corn, and see that the horses eat it. You understand?"

"Yes, baas," said the man, with a sharp click, as his eyes glistened and he showed his white teeth in a satisfied grin. "Soon my baas go away, give them good to eat."

"Is your baas going away?"

"Iss; saddle pony; go away."

As the black spoke he pointed to the farther end of the long mud-walled shed, where another pony was tied up.

Just then the shrill voice of the Boer vrouw was heard calling, and the Kaffir gave a shout in reply.

"Tant' Ann want um," he said, and he ran out, joined the lady at the door, and was dismissed to get some fuel from a heap, while the farmer came out, smoking away, and Ingleborough left the shed with West as if to join him.

"Are you going to give him your opinion?" said West.

"No: we can't afford to quarrel. The Kaffir will take care of our nags now, and get another tip for his pains."

The next minute they were close up to their host, who had evidently been thinking over the words which had last been exchanged.

"You Englanders," he said, "think you are very clever; but the Boers beat you before, and they're going to beat you more this time, and drive you all into the sea."

"Very well!" said West, smiling. "I hope they'll give us time to get into the ships."

"Perhaps!" said the Boer, smoking more rapidly in his excitement. "But it's all going to be Dutch now! No more English!"

"All right," said Ingleborough; "but I want my supper very badly."

"Want to eat? Yes; come in! The vrouw says it is nearly ready."

"That's right; then let's have it."

"You can come in the house," continued the farmer, and Ingleborough raised his eyebrows a little in surprise.

But a greater surprise awaited the pair on entering the mud-floored room to find quite a decent meal awaiting them on the table, and their sour-looking heavy hostess ready to wait on them with a kind of surly civility.

The pair were too hungry to think of anything then but appeasing their appetite, and they made a good meal, their host making no scruple about bringing a stool to the table and taking a larger share than either.

He said little, but his little keen eyes examined everything in connection with his visitors' costume, paying most heed to their weapons, while his wife saw to the wants of all from time to time, retiring at intervals to a second room which led out of the first and seemed to have been added quite lately.

"You'll want to sleep soon?" said the farmer inquiringly, when the meal was ended.

"Yes, the sooner the better," said Ingleborough, rising; an example followed by West; "and we shall be off in the morning early. We'll take a couple of these cakes."

The Boer nodded.

"Shall I sell you some biltong?" he said.

"Yes, certainly."

"I will have it ready. Where are you going now?"

"To look at the ponies."

"Oh, they are all well. My Kaffir has seen to them."

"But I suppose we are to sleep out there?" said Ingleborough.

"No," said the Boer; "you can sleep there," and he pointed to a rough-looking bed in one corner of the room. "My Kaffir sleeps with the horses. My vrouw and I sleep in the other room."

"Then as soon as we can we should like to turn this dining-room into our bedroom," said Ingleborough.

"But we'll look at our ponies first."

The Boer grunted and proceeded to refill his pipe, while the two young men went out and across to the rough shelter, where they found their ponies looking evidently the better for a good feed, and the Kaffir grinning and ready to pat their plumped-out figures, the ponies taking the touch of his hand as a friendly caress.

"Eat a big lot," said the Kaffir, in the Boer tongue. "Ah, like this," and he held a native basket for their inspection, at the bottom of which was a specimen of the corn with which the ponies had been fed.

"That's right, Jack! Capital; hard as shot! There's another shilling for you!"

The Kaffir grinned again with delight as he took the money.

"Good baas!" he said. "Two good baas! Baas want boy, Jack come 'long with you!"

"Not this time, my lad!"

"Very glad to come 'long with good baas!" said the man, in a disappointed tone of voice.

"No, we can't take you, my lad," said West, patting the big fellow on the shoulder. "Have the ponies saddled at daylight. We're going early."

The black nodded his head, and the pair, weary enough now from their long journey, and drowsy after their hearty meal, strode slowly back to the house, to find that the table had been cleared, save that a couple of big bread cakes lay on one end alongside of a little pile of biltong, the sun-dried mahogany-looking strips of ox-flesh so much in use among the rough farmers of the veldt.

The dirty-looking room smelt hot and stuffy, but a little window at the back had been thrown open, and the soft air blowing from off miles of plain made the place a little more bearable.

A common lamp had been lighted, and a streak of light came from beneath the ill-fitting door which led into the other room, from which the low murmur of voices could be heard as the young men entered talking cheerily together.

This announced their return, and the door creaked upon its hinges, giving entrance to the farmer, who pointed to the next day's provisions and significantly held out his hand.

"How much?" said West, and the man demanded an unconscionable amount, which made the pair exchange glances. But Ingleborough nodded as much as to say: "Pay the thief!" and the money was handed over and taken with a grunt. After this the Boer passed into the next room, closing the door after him; but it did not prevent the acid voice of the vrouw from reaching the visitors' ears as if to protest.

"The old scoundrel won't hand over the plunder," said Ingleborough, with a chuckle. "I hope she'll give him what we didn't—a thorough good tongue-thrashing."

He had hardly spoken when he found that he had jumped at a wrong conclusion, for the door was pulled open again and the Boer reappeared.

"Tante Ann says you are to make haste and put out the lamp," he growled, "for she don't want to be burned in her bed."

"All right, uncle," replied Ingleborough. "Good night, and bless you for a fine specimen of the noble, freedom-loving Boer. Say good night to Tante too, and tell her that our sleeping chamber is the very perfection of domestic comfort."

"Hunk!" ejaculated the farmer, and he disappeared again.

"I wonder that he did not turn upon you," said West, rather reproachfully; "he must have understood that you were speaking sarcastically."

"Not he," said his companion. "Thick-headed, muddy-brained brute; more like a quadruped than a man! The Kaffirs are gentlemen to some of these up-country farmers, and yet they are the slaves."

"Too tired to discuss moral ethics!" said West sleepily; "but really this place is awful. Agricultural implements in one corner, sacks of something in another, horns, saddles, tools—oh, I'm too sleepy to go on. Hallo! He has taken those two rifles away that were slung over that low cupboard."

"To be sure; so he has! Afraid we should steal them, perhaps, and be off before he woke! I say, did you notice how he examined ours?"

"Yes; I fancied he had noticed that they were Mausers."

"Oh no. They were fresh to him. Well, I'm going to take care that he doesn't help himself to them. I don't know what you're going to do, but I'm going to lie down on one side of that bed just as I am, bandolier and all, and I vote we lay the rifles between us."

"I shall do the same," said West. "What do you say to leaving the door and window open for the sake of the fresh air? No fear of lions here?"

"I don't know so much about that, but we should get some warning from the horses and oxen. Bah! It's not likely. What now?"

There was a heavy thumping at the door leading into the other room, and the vrouw's shrill voice was heard ordering them to put out the light.

"Tell her, West, that her royal commands shall be instantly obeyed by her obedient slaves."

"Shan't," replied West. "That will quiet her," and he turned out the light, putting an end to its abominable emanation of coarse petroleum, while the soft starry light of a glorious night stole in, showing the shapes of door and windows.

"Hah! That's better!" said Ingleborough, making the rough bedstead creak as he laid himself gently down. "I hope none of these cartridges will explode. Oh, how I can sleep!"

"And so can I," sighed West, "even dressed up like this," after laying his rifle alongside of his companion's, straight down the middle of the bed.

"We didn't tell Jack the Kaffir to bring our shaving-water at daybreak," said Ingleborough, who now that he was in a horizontal position seemed to have suddenly grown wakeful. "I say."

"Well?"

"I wonder how our dear friend Anson is!"

West made no reply.

"I say! West!"

"Oh, don't talk, please. I want to sleep."

"All right, you shall, till I see the pearly dawn streaming in through that little window at the back here. I say, though, if you hear me turn round in the night and the cartridges begin to pop, just wake me up, or there may be an accident."

West again made no reply.

"And we should have Tante Ann waking up, when there would be a greater explosion still. There, good night!"

"Good night."

Then silence, save that the cry of some prowling creature far out on the veldt sounded wonderfully like the baying of a dog.



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

A DARK VISITOR.

An hour must have passed away, during which neither of the weary bearers of the despatch moved. Then in a low whisper West spoke.

"Asleep, Ingle?"

"Asleep? No," was whispered back. "I can't close my eyes."

"Neither can I."

"Why not?"

"Over tired and excited, I suppose. All this is so strange too."

"What have you been thinking about?"

"At first I could only think of the despatch and wonder whether we should get it to Mafeking. Then I began thinking of that black out in the stable and what he said."

"About his master wanting his pony saddled?" whispered Ingleborough.

"Yes. What did he want his pony saddled for at that time of night?"

"How strange!" said Ingleborough. "That's what kept on bothering me!"

"Ingle."

"Yes."

"Do you think that fellow meant treachery?"

"I don't know; but I'd believe in any treacherous act on the part of a Boer."

"Would he be likely to ride off somewhere to where there is a commando?"

"For the sake of getting us taken prisoners or shot?"

"Or so as to get possession of our ponies! I saw him examining them as if he liked them."

"So did I."

There was silence again, and West spoke.

"Ingle," he said, "I can't sleep here; the despatch seems to be sticking into me to remind me of my duty. We shall rest better in our saddles than on this wretched bed. What do you say—the free cool air of the veldt, or this stuffy, paraffiny room?"

"Let's be off, and at once!"

"We will. We can slip out quietly without waking these people, and most likely we are misjudging the man, who has the regular racial hatred of the British."

"Perhaps; but we must be careful, for if he heard us going to the shed and meddling with the horses he'd likely enough begin blazing away at us with his rifle."

At that moment West clutched his companion's arm, for they heard no sound, but all at once the dark silhouette of a man's head appeared framed in the little back window against a background of starry points which glistened like gold.

Ingleborough's hand stole to his rifle, which he grasped, as both held their breath; but he did not attempt to raise it, for the head was thrust inside, and a voice whispered the one word: "Baas."

"Yes," said West softly. "What is it, my lad?"

"My baas take pony and ride away. Go to fetch fighting Boer to shoot good baas. You and good baas him."

"Ah?" said West.

"Iss. Jack put saddles on Basuto ponies; put bridles on Basuto ponies. Good baas both come and ride away. Tant' Ann never hear nothing. Sleep all night."

"And if we go what will your baas do to you when he comes and finds the ponies gone?" said West.

"Bad baas never see me again! Going home to my country to-night."

"Ah, that's better!" said Ingleborough. "Here, take the two rifles, and we'll get out here. Jack, my lad, you're a trump, and you shall have five two-shilling pieces for this, to buy new blankets."

The Kaffir chuckled and clicked with satisfaction as he stood holding the rifles till Ingleborough slipped out, West pausing to cram the bread cakes and biltong into their satchels, after which he too slipped out, and the trio hurried towards the stables.

"How far has your baas to ride to the fighting Boers?" West asked the Kaffir.

"Long ride," replied the black. "Many Boers yesterday, many Boers other day, many Boers come in morning with baas."

"Then we're all right for a good start," said Ingleborough. "I say, West, you're always taking me into some trap: hadn't I better lead?"

"You are leading now," replied West. "How do we know that there are not a dozen of the enemy in the stable?"

"What! Oh, nonsense! Come along!"

The ponies whinnied as they entered, and the black struck a match and lit a wagon lantern, showing that they were ready bridled and their heads tied up to a rail, while examination proved that the saddles were properly girthed ready for a start.

"Here, stop a minute!" said Ingleborough, as the man began to unfasten the reins attached to the ponies' heads. "Here, I promised you five two-shilling pieces," and he counted them out ready in his hand, making the black's eyes sparkle with delight in the lamplight.

"Stop," said West sharply; "the poor fellow's losing his place, such as it is, by helping us. I have our expenses money, and I shall give him a sovereign."

"Well, he deserves it," said Ingleborough, as West pushed back his companion's hand containing the silver coins with his left, and held out the sovereign, which looked very bright and new in the yellow light shed by the lantern.

A sudden change came over the Kaffir's face at once. Instead of the grinning white teeth and twinkling eyes his lips were drawn tightly over his teeth, and a scowl contracted his eyes.

"No, no, no," he cried, with child-like petulance, in the Boer-Dutch, sadly mutilated. "No want one. Say five big shillings."

"What!" cried West. "Why, this is worth twice as much."

"No, no," cried the man angrily. "Want to cheat poor black Kaffir. No, no; Olebo want to help white baas! White baas want cheat poor black Zulu!"

"Poor old chap!" said Ingleborough, laughing merrily; "his education has been sadly neglected. Here, Jack—Olebo, or whatever your name is—take the sovereign, and you shall have the five two-shillings pieces as well."

"Eh? No cheat Zulu boy?" cried the man doubtingly.

"No, all right; catch hold. There, now you can buy many blankets, and may you never be tricked any worse!"

"Hah! Yes; buy lot, take home!" And the white teeth were shown again as the coins were gripped fast, including the sovereign, which was held up first to the light. "White shilling? No: yellow farden."

"All right; but take it to an honest man, my lad. Now then, untie those reins."

The black turned to obey, but stopped short and stood staring away through the open side of the shed for a few moments, with the light shining full upon his face, showing his starting eyes, open mouth, and dilated quivering nostrils.

"What's the matter? Can he hear a lion?" whispered West.

"Here, stop, stop!" cried Ingleborough. "Finish your job!—We've paid him too well and too soon. He's off to run amok among the brandy and blanket dealers."

For the black had darted outside, but in the gloom they saw him suddenly throw himself down and lay one ear to the ground.

"Yes, he can hear a lion," grumbled Ingleborough; "but the ponies haven't caught it yet."

He had hardly finished speaking before the Kaffir sprang up again and dashed into the shed, where he reached up and dragged something from the rafters which proved to be an elephant-hide shield with three assegais secured to the hand-hold inside.

"Baas hold this!" he said excitedly. "Boer coming. Olebo hear horses!"

Half throwing the weapons to Ingleborough, who caught them, and leaned them against his side while he examined the charges of his rifle, an action imitated by West, the Kaffir rapidly unfastened the reins, setting the ponies' heads free, and then darted at the lantern, opened the door, and blew out the light.

"Now come 'long," he whispered, and taking the ponies' heads he placed himself between them and led them along, stopping the next moment to hold them steady while their riders mounted.

"Olebo run 'long with two baas show the way," he said. "Basuto ponies tumble over ostrich pens."

"Hah! Good idea!" said West, and, listening now, he fancied he made out the sound of a troop of horse in the distance; but Ingleborough said he could hear nothing yet.

Leaving themselves to the guidance of the Kaffir, they found to their surprise that, instead of striking straight off, he led them to the house, and then round to the back, where the little window by whose means he had stolen close to where they lay and given the alarm stood open.

"Here, take your shield!" said Ingleborough.

"Wait a bit!" replied the black, chuckling.

"Hist! You'll have the old vrouw hear."

"No," said the black confidently; "fast asleep. Wicked old witch! Throw kettle at Kaffir, hot water burn back! Wait a bit; you see!"

Dependent as they were on the man's guidance through the darkness amongst the enclosures, the fugitives left him to himself for a few moments, wondering what he was about to do.

They soon knew, for he stopped the ponies close to the little window, left their heads, and went close up, to begin fumbling about his spare garments, whence came the chink of the coins he had just received.

"Matches," he said, and West made out that he took a few from the box he held in his hand, and then reached in at the window, chuckling softly.

"Ingle," whispered. West, with horror in his voice. "What's the matter?"

"Do you know what he's doing?"

"Nobbling a couple of the blankets because he isn't going to stay for his wages?"

"No; I'm sure he has emptied the match-box on the straw mattress, and is going to burn down the house."

"Nonsense!"

Crack! went a match by way of endorsement of West's words, and the next moment the little flame began to burn inside the Kaffir's hands, lighting up his exulting countenance as he waited till the splint of wood was well alight.

"What are you going to do?" said West hoarsely, as he leaned forward and laid his right hand upon the black's shoulder.

"Don't shake light out!" was the answer. "Olebo going make big fire, roast Tant' Ann! Big fat witch, soon burn!"

As the Kaffir finished he lowered one hand, leaving the match blazing brightly, and he was in the act of leaning in to apply it to the little heap of matches he had placed upon the loose straw mattress, when a sharp snatch at his shoulder jerked him back, and the burning splint dropped to the ground.

"Ah-h-ah!" growled the man savagely, and he drew another match across the box he still held.

"None of that!" growled Ingleborough sternly.

"Wicked old witch!" said the black, in remonstrance. "Burn Olebo! Don't give him enough to eat! No good!"

"You come along," cried West. "I can hear the Boers coming fast. Now then, lead the horses clear of the pens!"



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

NIGHT ON THE VELDT.

The Kaffir grunted, and began what Ingleborough afterwards called "chuntering," but he obeyed at once, leading the ponies at a quick walk in and out amongst several ostrich enclosures, till they were quite a quarter of a mile from the farm, from which there came the buzz of voices and the occasional stamp of a horse on the still night air.

"No more wire fence!" said their guide, and indicating that they should urge the ponies forward he took his shield and spears from Ingleborough, caught hold of the mane of West's pony, and then as they broke into a canter, ran lightly by the animal's side, talking softly, and now and then breaking out into a merry laugh.

"Ought burn Tant' Ann!" he said. "Wicked old witch! Very fat! Make her good vrouw!"

"I'm afraid Jack's morals are sadly in need of improvement, lad," said Ingleborough at last.

"What a horrible idea!" replied West, with a shudder; "and the worst of it is that the fellow seems to consider that it would have been a good piece of fun."

"Yes, it is his nature to, as we are told of the bears and lions in the poems of Dr Watts. I dare say the old woman had been a horrible tyrant to the poor fellow!"

"But the hideous revenge!"

"Which hasn't come off, my lad! But the black scoundrel's ideas are shocking in the extreme, and I would not associate with him much in the future. Here! Hi! Olebo, stop!"

The young man drew rein, and the black looked up enquiringly.

"Lie down and listen for the Boers!"

The Kaffir nodded, and trotted a dozen yards away from the side of the ponies, threw himself down, listened, jumped up, and repeated the performance three times at greater distances before returning.

"No hear!" he said. "Gone other way."

"It would be safe then to strike a match and look at the compass," suggested West, and, taking out his box, he struck a light, shaded it in his slouch hat, and then held the little pocket compass to it.

"Well, which way are we going?"

"Due east."

"Then we'll turn due north, and travel that way till to-morrow night, and see what that brings forth."

Starting off again, they journeyed on, sometimes at a walk, sometimes at an easy canter, so as to save the horses as much as possible, while the Kaffir kept up, seeming not in the slightest degree distressed, but ready to enter into conversation at any time, after changing from one side to the other so as to hold on by a different hand.

"Soon be daylight now," said West; "but I hope this fellow does not expect to keep on with us, does he?"

"Oh no, I don't think so for a moment. We'll pull up before sunrise at some sheltered place and have a good look-out for danger before letting the ponies graze and having breakfast. Let's see what happens then!"

But the sun was well up before a suitable kopje came in sight, one so small that it did not appear likely to contain enemies, but sufficiently elevated to give an observer a good view for miles through the clear veldt air.

"Looks safe!" said Ingleborough; "but burnt English children fear the Boer fire. Let's have a good circle round."

This was begun, and the black instantly grasped what was intended, and hanging well down from West's stirrup-leather, he began to search the ground carefully for tracks, looking up from time to time and pointing out those of antelopes, lions, and ostriches, but never the hoof of horse or the footprint of man.

"No Boer there!" he said. "No one come. Good water," he continued, pointing to the slight tracts of grass which had sprung up where a stream rising among the rocks was losing itself in the dry soil, but which looked brighter and greener as it was nearer to the kopje, which was fairly furnished with thorn-bush and decent-sized trees.

"Any Boers hiding there?" said West sharply.

"Boers ride there on ponies!" replied the Kaffir decisively, as he pointed down at the drab dust. "No ponies make marks."

"That's enough," said Ingleborough. "Come along."

Without hesitation now they put their mounts to a canter, rode up to the pleasant refreshing-looking place, and after leaving the ponies with the Kaffir and climbing to one of the highest points, took a good look round. This proved that there was not a mounted man in sight, and they descended to select a spot where there was plenty of herbage and water for their steeds, when they sat down and began to breakfast.

"Nothing like a fine appetite," said West, after they had been eating for some little time; "but this biltong is rather like eating a leg of mahogany dining-table into which a good deal of salt gravy and furniture oil has been allowed to soak."

"Yes, it is rather wooden," said Ingleborough coolly. "Must wear out a man's teeth a good deal."

"Eland," said the Kaffir, tapping his stick of the dried meat on seeing his companions examining and smelling the food. "Old baas shoot eland, Olebo cut him up and dry him in the sun. Good."

"Well, it isn't bad, O child of nature! But I say, how far do you mean to come with us?"

"No go any more," replied the man. "Go Olebo kraal, see wife. Give her big shilling and little yellow shilling.—Good?"

He brought out the sovereign from where it had been placed, and held it up.

"Good? Yes," said West, and he set to work to try and explain by making the black bring out a florin and then holding up his outspread ten fingers, when the man seemed to have some idea of his meaning.

"Look here, I'll get it into his benighted intellect; but I should have thought that he would have known what a sovereign was worth."

Just then the Kaffir nodded sharply, after examining the coin.

"Gold?" he said, in Dutch.

"Of course," said Ingleborough, taking out a sovereign and ten more florins, which he placed in a heap and at a short distance from the little pile he laid down the sovereign. "Look here, Olebo," he said, taking up the ten florins. "Buy four blankets!"

The Kaffir nodded, and his instructor replaced the heavy coins in his pocket to take up the sovereign.

"Now, see here," said Ingleborough, holding it out. "Buy four blankets."

"Ah!" cried the delighted black, snatching out his own treasured coins, the gold in one hand, the silver in the other. "Buy four blankets for Olebo wife," he cried, holding forward the silver. Then putting it behind him he held out the sovereign: "Buy four blankets for Olebo."

"Now we've got it," cried West, laughing, and watching the way in which the black hid his cash away. "I say," he continued, to his companion, speaking in English, "where does he put that money to keep it safe?"

"I dunno," said Ingleborough. "It seems to come natural to these Kaffirs to hide away their treasures cunningly. See how artful they are over the diamonds! He doesn't put the cash in his trousers pockets, nor yet in his waistcoat, nor yet his coat, because he has neither one nor the other. I expect he has a little snake-skin bag somewhere inside his leather-loincloth. But here, I'm thirsty; let's have some water!"

As he spoke Ingleborough sprang up and walked towards the head of the spruit, followed by his companions, and they passed the two ponies, which were hard at work on the rich green herbage along the border of the stream. Then, getting well ahead of them, all lay down and thoroughly quenched their thirst.

"Now," said West, "what next? We ought to go on at once," and he unconsciously laid his hand upon the spot where the despatch was hidden.

"No," replied Ingleborough, "that won't do. We seem safe here, and we must hasten slowly. We're ready enough to go on, but the ponies must be properly nursed. They want more grass and a rest."

"The sun is getting hot too," said West, in acknowledgment of his comrade's words of wisdom.

"We'll stop till evening, lad," continued Ingleborough, "and take it in turn to sleep in the shade of those bushes if we can find a soft spot. We had no rest last night."

"I suppose that must be it," replied West, and he joined in a sigh on finding a satisfactory spot beneath a mass of granite from which overhung a quantity of thorn-bush and creeper which formed an impenetrable shade.

The black followed them, noting keenly every movement and trying hard to gather the meaning of the English words.

"Two baas lie down long time, go to sleep," he said at last, in broken Dutch. "Olebo sit and look, see if Boer come. See Boer, make baas wake up."

"No," said West; "you two lie down and sleep. I'll take the first watch."

Ingleborough made no opposition, and after West had climbed up to a spot beneath a tree from which he could get a good stretch of the veldt in view, the others lay down at once and did not stir a limb till West stepped down to them, when the Kaffir sprang up without awakening Ingleborough.

"Olebo look for Boers now," he said.

West hesitated, and the Kaffir grasped the meaning of his silence.

"Olebo come and tell baas when big old baas go to fetch Boers," he said.

"So you did," cried the young Englishman warmly, "and I'll trust you now. Mind the ponies don't stray away."

The black showed his beautiful, white teeth in a happy satisfied laugh.

"Too much grass, too much nice water," he said. "Basuto pony don't go away from baas only to find grass."

"You're right!" said West. "Wait till the sun is there!" he continued, pointing to where it would be about two hours after mid-day, "and then wake the other baas."

The Kaffir nodded, and West lay down to rest, as he put it to himself, for he was convinced that he would be unable to sleep; but he had not lain back five minutes, gazing at the sunlit rivulet and the ponies grazing, before his lids closed and all was nothingness till he was roused by a touch from Ingleborough.

The sun was just dipping like a huge orange ball in the vermilion and golden west.

"Had a good nap, old fellow?"

"Oh, it's wonderful!" said the young man, springing up. "I don't seem to have been asleep five minutes."

"I suppose not. Well, all's right, and Blackjack is waiting to say good-bye. He wants to start off home."

The Kaffir came up from where he had been patting and caressing the ponies, and stood looking at them as motionless in the ruddy evening light as a great bronze image.

"Olebo go now," he said, turning his shield to show that the remains of his share of the provisions were secured to the handle by a rough net of freshly-plaited grassy rush. "Olebo see baas, both baas, some day." He accompanied the words with a wistful look at each, and before they could think of what to say in reply he turned himself sharply and ran off at a rapid rate, getting out of sight as quickly as he could by keeping close to the bushes, before striking out into the veldt.

"Humph! I suppose they are treacherous savages, some of them," said Ingleborough thoughtfully; "but there doesn't seem to be much harm in that fellow if he were used well."

"I believe he'd make a very faithful servant," said West sadly. "I'm beginning to be sorry we let him go."

"So am I. We shall feel quite lonely without him. But the despatch."

"Ah, yes, the despatch!" said West, pulling himself together. "Now then, boot and saddle, and a long night's ride!"

"And a good day's rest afterwards! That's the way we must get on."

A quarter of an hour after, they had taken their bearings by compass and mounted, when the well-refreshed ponies started off at once in a brisk canter, necessitating the drawing of the rein from time to time; and then it was on, on, on at different rates beneath the wonderfully bright stars of a glorious night, during which they passed several farms and one good-sized village, which were carefully avoided, for they had enough provisions to last them for another day, and naturally if a halt was to be made to purchase more it would have to be at a seasonable time.

"Yes," said Ingleborough laughingly, "it would be a sure way of getting cartridges if we wanted them and roused up a Boer farmer in the night. He would soon give us some, the wrong way on."

"Yes," said West, "and there would be the dogs to deal with as well. Hark at that deep-mouthed brute!"

For just then the cantering of their ponies had been heard by the watch-dog at one of the farms, and it went on baying at them till the sounds grew faint.

Then it was on and on again till a strange feeling of weariness began to oppress them, and they had to fight with the desire which made them bend forward and nod over their ponies' necks, rising up again with a dislocating start.

At the second time of this performance West made a great effort and began watching his companion, to see that he was just as bad. Then the intense desire to sleep began to master the watcher again.

"Hi, Ingle!" he cried. "Rouse up, and let's walk for a mile or two."

"Yes, yes.—What's that?" cried Ingleborough, springing off his pony and cocking his rifle.

For there was a sudden rushing noise as of a great crowd of animals, of what kind it was still too dark to see; but it was evident that they had come suddenly upon a migratory herd of the graceful-limbed antelopes that had probably been grazing and had been startled into flight.

"Pity it was not light!" said Ingleborough, with a sigh. "We could have got some fresh meat, and then at the first patch of wood and pool of water we could have had a fire and frizzled antelope-steaks."

But a couple of hours later, when they halted for their rest and refreshment, it was stale cake, hard biltong, and cool fresh water.

"Never mind, we're miles nearer Mafeking!" said West. "How many more nights will it take?"

The answer to that question had not been arrived at when they dropped asleep, lulled by the sound of rippling water and the crop, crop, crop made by the grazing ponies, and this time their weariness was so great that sleep overcame them both. Ingleborough was to have watched, but nature was too strong, and both slept till sundown, to rise up full of a feeling of self-reproach.



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

A LOUD REPORT.

Days of rest and nights of travel succeeded, during which the despatch-riders began to wonder at the ease with which they progressed.

"I thought it would be twice as hard a task!" said West. "Here have we been two days without a sign of a Boer! We must be very near Mafeking now."

"Yes, very," said Ingleborough drily; "nearer than I thought. Halt!"

He drew rein as he spoke, West's pony stopping short at the same time as its companion.

They had been riding steadily on through the night, and now as the ponies stood side by side they stretched out their necks in the soft cool darkness, and the sound of their cropping told that they were amongst grass.

"Why did you pull up?" said West, in a cautious whisper.

"For you to hear how near we are to Mafeking now."

"Near?"

"Yes; can't you hear the firing?"

"No," said West, after a few moments' pause. "Yes, now I do," he cried eagerly, for all at once there was a dull concussion as if a blow had been delivered in the air.

"A heavy gun," cried West excitedly.

"Hist!"

"I forgot," said West softly. "That must be one of the siege guns," he continued.

"Yes," said Ingleborough, "and it must be near daybreak, with the bombarding beginning. Be careful; perhaps we are nearer the enemy than we thought."

At the end of a couple of minutes there was the dull concussion of another heavy gun, and this was continued at intervals of ten or fifteen minutes during the next hour, while the adventurers advanced cautiously at a walk, keeping a sharp look-out through the transparent darkness for a patch of rocks or woodland which might serve for their next halt. But day had quite dawned before a suitable place of refuge presented itself, in the shape of one of the low kopjes.

"Dismount!" whispered Ingleborough sharply, and they spent the next ten minutes carefully scanning the district round in full expectation of seeing some sign of the enemy.

But nothing worse was in view than two or three of the scattered farms of the open veldt, and in the distance a dark indistinct patch which appeared to be a herd of grazing cattle, but so distant that neither could be sure.

On their way to the patch of rock and brush that was to be their last resting-place before making a dash for the beleaguered town, they struck upon the trail going north and south, and in two places scared off vultures from the carcass of an unfortunate ox, shrunken and dried in the sun till little but the bones and hide were left.

They were too distant to make out the smoke, but steadily increasing fire told plainly enough that they were quite near enough for a dash into the town when darkness set in that night.

"You think then that this will be the best way?" said West, as they reached their shelter without seeing a sign of danger.

"I am not sure yet!" replied Ingleborough. "In fact, I'm very doubtful whether we should not fail, for the place is certain to be surrounded by the enemy, and we should very likely be ridden or shot down."

Oliver West laid his hand upon the despatch, pressing it so that the paper crackled beneath the cloth.

"Then we had better ride in as near as we dare, and then try and creep in at the darkest time."

"Let's pray for the clouds to be thick then!" said Ingleborough; "for the moon's getting past the first quarter. Last night would have done exactly."

"But we were not here. Hark at the firing!"

"Yes; it sounds as if Mafeking will be taken before we get there!"

"For goodness' sake don't talk like that!"

"Don't let's talk at all then. Let's get well into shelter. But I see no sign of water yet."

Neither did the speaker after they had carefully explored the rocky hillock, but fortunately there was an ample supply of succulent grass for the ponies, which were soon after luxuriating in a good roll, before grazing contentedly away, while their riders, after another examination of the place and glance round from the highest point, had to satisfy themselves with a very scanty shelter and a much scantier meal.

"Never mind," said Ingleborough; "we shall be breakfasting in luxury to-morrow morning, I hope, with our appetites sharpened by the knowledge that we have achieved our task."

"I hope so!" said West gravely.

"But don't doubt, my lad," cried Ingleborough cheerily. "Don't be downhearted now we are so near!"

"I can't help it!" replied West. "I feel on thorns, and my state of anxiety will grow worse and worse till we get there. Hark at the firing!"

"I can hear," said Ingleborough coolly. "Be very deaf if I couldn't! There, that's the last scrap of cake, so let's drown our troubles in sleep. You have first turn!"

"No," replied West. "I feel too anxious to sleep! You begin."

"Can't," was the reply. "If anything, I feel more anxious than you do. I couldn't rest!"

"I wish we could canter gently on till we were seen by the Boers, and then go on full gallop right into the town!" said West. "Would it be too dangerous?"

"Just madness!" replied Ingleborough. "No; it must be done with guile. They would cut us off for certain."

"I'm afraid so!" said West. "Very well, then, we must wait for the evening."

"And sit wakeful," said Ingleborough.

"Yes," said West. "Sleep is impossible!"

And sit there wakeful they did, hour after hour, their only satisfaction being that of seeing their weary horses enjoying a good feed untroubled by the increasing heat, or the cares which harassed their masters.

For as the sun rose higher the distant firing increased, till it was evident that a terrible attack was going on, and in his weariness and despair no words on the part of Ingleborough had any effect upon West, who felt convinced that before they could continue their journey Mafeking would have fallen into the enemy's hands.

There was no further talk of sleep. The heat, flies, hunger, and a burning thirst were either of them sufficient to have kept them awake, without the terrible feeling of anxiety and the alarms caused by bodies of horsemen or lines of wagons journeying in the direction they were waiting to take.

Again and again parties of the Boers seemed to be coming straight for the hiding-place, and West and his companion crept on hands and knees towards their ponies, getting hold of their reins, and then crouching by them ready to mount and gallop for their lives should the necessity arise.

But it did not, and in a strangely-feverish dreamlike way the day glided on and evening at last came, bringing with it wafts of cooler air and, what was of more consequence to them still, a feeling of hope, for though the firing still went on, it had dwindled down into the slow steady reports of one heavy piece discharged at about the same rate as when they had first heard the firing in the morning.

"And it tells its own tale with truthful lips!" said Ingleborough. "The town is still holding out, and the defenders have ceased to reply."

"Because they are nearly beaten!" said West sadly.

"By no means, you croaking old raven!" cried Ingleborough cheerily. "It's because they want to save their ammunition! They only want to fire when they have something worth firing at. As for the enemy, they have the whole town to shoot at, and keep on pitching their shells in at random. There, don't be grumpy!"

"I can't help it!" cried West passionately. "Give me credit for having kept up well till now. It's because we are so near success that I feel everything so keenly."

"I know, old fellow, and you may trust me!" said Ingleborough. "I didn't play a false prophet's part just to encourage you. I'm speaking the simple truth! Just a little more patience, and you shall deliver your despatch."

"If I could only feel that!" cried West. "It may be the saving of Mafeking to receive news perhaps of help being on the way."

"Be patient then! It will soon be night, and then we'll mount and make our final dash!"

"No," said West bitterly; "we shall have to make it now. Look."



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

HARD PUSHED.

Ingleborough shaded his eyes and turned very grave, for on gazing in the direction pointed out by his companion's finger he saw a column of horsemen creeping over the veldt as if coming straight for their resting-place, while as they came nearer the eager watchers could make out that the party were guarding a long train of wagons drawn by great teams of oxen. They found that there were two other teams, not of oxen, but of ponies similar to their own, and not dragging the great tilt-covered wagons, but something heavy and comparatively small.

"Guns!" said Ingleborough laconically.

"Yes, and heavy guns too!" cried West.

"You're right, lad; and they will not come near us. It's an ammunition train, and they'll go straight for Mafeking! That's another false alarm!"

Ingleborough was quite right, for the distant train crept slowly on along the track till it grew dim and distant as the sun sank lower and finally disappeared in the haze of dust. But the troubles of the despatch-bearers were not at an end, and they lay watching the west with its great masses of lit-up clouds, glorious in their colouring, till the last bright lights had died out, before they turned to look in the direction of the east. And then West drew his companion's attention to the fact that behind them the sky was perfectly clear, and the pale moon, a couple of days past the first quarter, was gradually growing brighter and brighter in what promised to be a perfectly unclouded night.

"Yes," said Ingleborough coolly; "we shall have a glorious time for our ride."

"A glorious night for the Boer outposts to take aim at us as we ride in."

"No," said Ingleborough coolly. "I think not!"

"What do you mean?" said West, turning sharply upon his companion. "You have some fresh idea?"

"Well, yes. Being in such a pickle as this sets a man sharpening his wits to try and make them keen."

"Of course. What are you going to do?"

"Wait a bit and see!" replied Ingleborough coolly. "I'm sharpening still."

West turned away impatiently, to go, stooping as low as he could, towards his pony, which was straggling away, and bring it back to the bushes which had helped to hide them all the day, after which they sat in silence for about an hour, until it was quite plain that the night was as dark as it was likely to be. Then in a nervous excited way he turned to Ingleborough again.

"Yes," said the latter, without waiting for West to speak; "it will grow no darker unless we wait hours for the moon to set, and by that time I hope we shall be in Mafeking."

"What do you mean to do then?"

"Mount and ride steadily on at a gentle canter till we get in touch with that ammunition train."

"But we shall be challenged by their rear-guard."

"Perhaps," said Ingleborough coolly; "perhaps not. I reckon on getting pretty close up without. If we are challenged, I want you to do as I tell you."

"Of course," replied West. "Anything to fulfil our task!"

"Ready?"

"And waiting!"

"Then mount!"

Their ponies were waiting patiently by their sides, and the next minute they had sprung into the saddles and rode off in the direction taken by the train.

West asked no questions, for he was full of confidence in his long-tried companion, and with the ponies well-refreshed and eager from their rest, they rode steadily on, keeping a sharp look-out for danger, but meeting with no adventure for quite a couple of hours, by which time both felt that they must be getting near to the end of their journey.

But they had nothing to guide them, for they were off the track, and even had they been on, it would have been impossible to follow it in the strange eerie light shed by the quarter-moon. Once they had evidence that they were in all probability going right, for a horrible odour suddenly assailed their nostrils, making them press their ponies' sides and go past something indistinct at a gallop, holding their breath till they were well beyond what was in all probability the body of some wretched horse or ox that had died of overwork and exhaustion.

"We must keep on now!" whispered Ingleborough. "I feel that we are going right."

"But the Boer laagers and outposts!" whispered back West.

"Somewhere ahead, lad; but we must leave something to chance. We are, say, within half-a-dozen miles of Mafeking, so I put it; perhaps not more than two or three. Keep a sharp look-out for lights."

"The enemy's?"

"Or friends'," replied Ingleborough. "There's a good deal of chance now, and we must trust a little to our luck."

"In other words, you mean make a bold dash?"

"Yes, but not a blind one! I want to put a little gumption into what we do! You'll trust me?"

"I will!"

"Forward then, and give the ponies their heads!"

West gave vent to a deep low "Hah!" of satisfaction, and away they went, with their mounts seeming to exult in the freedom from pressure on their bits, keeping close together, and bounding along over the level veldt as if perfectly familiar with the way, though their riders knew it to be bespread with pitfalls in the shape of the burrows made by the aardvarks and other animals that made the wide open veldt their home.

The moon shone brightly now, though the light was puzzling, and the distance ahead looked strange and weird; but the pace at which they were going had a peculiarly exhilarating effect upon both of the riders, who seemed to share the excitement of their ponies.

For, guesswork though it was, West felt that Mafeking must lie right ahead, and as they dashed on he began to feel a kind of certainty that if left to themselves their sagacious steeds would take them right into the town.

A good four miles must have been passed over in this way, and at last a fresh sensation began to attack West, filling him with anxiety lest they should be going in the wrong direction. For he argued that they must before now, if right, have come upon signs of the besiegers, and he was in the act of leaning over towards Ingleborough to make him acquainted with his fears, when all doubt was chased away by a loud challenge from his right, followed by a flash and a report.

That one shot was the opening note of an overture, for directly after the balls began whistling over their heads, and the first reports grew into a loud rattle followed by the trampling of horses and loud shouting.

"It's all right," said Ingleborough coolly; "they're firing at random. It's impossible to take aim on a night like this! Can you see them?"

"No; only the flashes!" said West excitedly.

"That's enough! Then they can't see us! We're through their lines too, for they're firing behind us, and I'll back our horses to beat theirs in a race."

Reports now began to ring out on their right, and directly after they came from their left.

"Shall we shout?" whispered West.

"No. What for?"

"We must be getting among our own people!"

"No such luck, my lad! Keep steadily on! Ah! Poor beast!"

"What is it?" said West excitedly, as his mount stopped short, obeying its natural instinct and the love of companionship of a gregarious animal. For Ingleborough's pony had suddenly uttered a peculiar neighing cry, reared up, and fallen backwards.

"Are you hurt?" whispered West again.

"No; I just escaped! Quick; jump down."

West was on his feet directly, and Ingleborough grasped his arm.

"I'd say ride for it alone, lad," he whispered, with his lips close to his companion's ear; "but my way is safest. Now down on your hands and knees and let's play wild dog or baboon!"

"I don't understand you!" whispered West.

"Never mind; do as I do!" and the next minute they were going along on hands and knees over the level ground, feeling it quiver with the trampling of galloping horses all round, while the flashing of rifles and the crackling reports seemed to be coming from all directions.

So near to them came some of the horsemen that West felt certain they must be seen; but there was no hail, no whistling bullet, and, wearisome though the way of progression was to the muscles and painful to hands and knees, West kept on side by side with his companion till the firing began to drop off and then ceased, though the hurrying to and fro of horses still went on.

"It was sooner than I intended," said Ingleborough at last; "but I meant for us to dismount at last and crawl. If we are seen the enemy will take us for hyaenas or dogs."

He had hardly whispered these words before a shot was fired from, their left, the bullet whistling over them, when to the astonishment of West, Ingleborough uttered a snarling yelp, followed by an excellent imitation of a dog's bark.

"Do as I do!" he whispered, and the next moment he had thrown himself upon his side and lay perfectly still.

"What folly!" West was disposed to say; but he followed his companion's example, letting himself sink sidewise like a dying quadruped, feeling the despatch crackle beneath him as he lay listening to the trampling of horses growing more distant, and waiting for Ingleborough to speak.

"Seems a stupid sort of dodge!" said the latter at last; "but I thought it better to let them think we were hyaenas than human beings."

"But we had a narrow escape of being shot!" replied West.

"Yes, and escaped. If they had taken us for human beings we should have been either shot or taken prisoners. Now we're safe!"

"Safe, with this bright moon shining ready to show every movement?"

"Then why move until we are safe, lad? The enemy will not come near us so long as they think we are dead animals."

"But if they make out what we are—how then?"

"How then?" said Ingleborough, with a low sarcastic laugh. "Why, then they'll behave like Boers, and come and see if there's anything worth taking in our pockets. They are sweet people! But wait a bit. As soon as they are farther off we'll continue our journey."

"Without our horses?"

"Yes; poor beasts! I'm sorry they're gone; but daybreak will show us that we are close to Mafeking, I feel sure. We'll crawl on as far as we can, and then get up and run for our lives."

"Yes; but you know how clever they are at bringing down a running buck!"

"Some of them!" said Ingleborough drily.

"Well, if I am brought down, don't hesitate a moment: out with your knife, rip open my jacket, get the despatch, and run on."

"Do you mean that?"

"Of course."

"What about you? Are you to be left wounded here on the veldt?"

"Yes: until the despatch reaches the proper hands. Then come and save me if you can."

"I understand," said Ingleborough drily. "That's if matters come to the worst! Let's hope they will not!"

He raised his head a little and had a good look round as soon as he had finished speaking, for all was now very still, and as far as he could make out in the eerie light there was not a Boer within sight.

"Now then," he said softly; "let's go on! No, no; not like that. Crawl, man, crawl."

He only spoke in time, for West was about to spring up. Then their painful imitation of some quadruped recommenced, West following his comrade patiently and unquestioningly till a change seemed to come over the light.

"Morning coming fast!" said West.

"The sooner the better," was the reply; "for I'm not sure that we are going right."

"I'm sure we're going wrong," said West quickly.

"Why?"

"Because we are going straight for that great wagon laager."

"Yes; there's Mafeking, with its corrugated-iron roofs, off to our right."

"Hah!" ejaculated West, for at that moment there was a flash from the front of the laager they were approaching, followed by a tremendous roar and a hissing sound overhead, as a shell winged its way towards the town, whose outskirts were certainly not more than a couple of miles away.

"We've wasted ever so much strength," said Ingleborough; "but never mind: we know exactly where we are. It's about two miles' run to the nearest houses. What do you say—go on crawling, or make a dash?"

"It will be broad daylight directly," replied West, "then we shall be discovered, and become the mark for every rifle within range. I say let's get up and walk steadily on till we see that we are discovered, and then run for our lives."

"Wait a moment! Do you know how we shall find out that we are discovered?"

"Yes," said West coolly; "we shall have the bullets whistling about us."

"Well, you are cool!" said Ingleborough. "That's it; and in addition we shall have some of the mounted Boers coming at full gallop."

"Perhaps," said West; "and perhaps the Mafeking outposts will begin firing to cover us. Now then, I feel breathless to begin, for it's rapidly getting lighter. Come on!"

They rose quietly, and set off, making straight for the nearest building—a long, low, broad place with a corrugated-iron roof which seemed to be perfectly deserted; but it had one advantage—it was the nearest object to where they were, and it would, if they could reach it, form cover from which they could fire upon any mounted Boer who came in pursuit.

Then with the day broadening rapidly they walked steadily on, with shell after shell arching over their heads, to fall and burst far in advance, right away in the town; but there was no sign of pursuit for quite ten minutes, and not a friend anywhere visible in the outskirts the fugitives approached.

"Now then," shouted Ingleborough suddenly; "be cool, and as you run unsling your rifle and be ready for a shot, for I'm going to fight to the last."

"Make for that shed?"

"Yes. Forward; here they come."

Away they went, for West at his companion's warning had looked sharply round, to see about a score of mounted Boers dashing after them at full gallop, and the fugitives had hardly got into the full swing of their stride before they heard cracky crack, crack, the reports of rifles far in the rear, and ping, ping, ping, the whistling buzz of the thin bullets, several of which came unpleasantly near.

"Open out half-a-dozen yards," said Ingleborough, "and lessen their mark! Think we shall reach that shed?"

"No," said West coolly. "It's farther off than I thought. Let's stop at that clump yonder, and lie behind it to fire back."

"Very well; but they'll ring round us and we shall be taken in flank and rear."

"Not till we've brought down two of them," said West, through his teeth.

"Two apiece," said Ingleborough. "Now then, put on a spurt, and let's get to that heap, or they'll be down upon us before we're half-way to the shed. Run!"

They did run, with all their might; but out on the open veldt distances are horribly deceiving, especially in the early morning light, and to the despair of the fugitives the Boers came rapidly nearer, while the clump of earth for which they made seemed to be as distant as ever. The only thing they made out was that it became more diffused, and they plainly saw that it was a long ridge of earth freshly thrown up, evidently from a ditch beyond.

"Why, it's a long rifle-pit," cried Ingleborough. "Run, lad, run; we must do it now!"

But the pursuing Boers were coming on fast, and the fugitives felt that in a minute or so they would be overtaken.

There was something, though, in their favour, for as the enemy converged upon them the firing from a distance ceased, those who were using their rifles fearing to hit their own friends.

"It's of no use; we can't do it!" panted West, as Ingleborough, now that there was no need to try and diminish the mark at which the Boers fired, closed in again.

"Not two hundred yards away now!" said Ingleborough hoarsely.

"Let's turn and have a couple of shots at them!" cried West.

"No: we should be bound to miss. Run, run!"

It was not the distance but the pace that was killing, and Ingleborough was right. To have stopped and turned to fire, with their pulses throbbing, breath coming in a laboured way, every nerve and muscle on the jump, must have resulted in missing; and the next moment the enemy would have ridden over them and they would have been either shot or prisoners.

Knowing this, they tore on till the rifle-pit was only a hundred yards away. The foremost Boers spread out like a fan not fifty yards distant, and came on at full gallop, with the result appearing certain that before the fugitives had torn on despairingly another score of yards their enemies would be upon them.

"My despatch!" groaned West to himself, and then aloud: "Halt! Fire!"

True to his comrade in those despairing moments, Ingleborough obeyed the order, stopped short, swung round, and following West's example, he was in the act of raising his rifle to his shoulder with his quivering hands, when—

Crack, cracky crack, crack, crack, crack, half-a-dozen flashes and puffs of smoke came from over the ridge of the low earthwork in front, emptying four saddles, while one horse went down headlong, pierced from chest to haunch by a bullet, and the fleeing pair saw the rest of their pursuers open out right and left, to swing round and gallop away back, pursued by a crackling fire which brought down six more before they were out of range.

Meanwhile twice over the big gun from its earthwork far away sent a couple of shells right over the fugitives' heads on their way to the beleaguered town, and a few seconds later a cheery English voice had shouted: "Cease firing!" Then a dozen men came hurrying out of the rifle-pit where they had lain low, to surround the exhausted pair.

"Hands up!" shouted their leader loudly. "Who are you—deserters?"

"Deserters!" cried West hoarsely, as he pressed his left hand upon his breast and let his rifle fall to the ground. "Despatch—Kimberley— Water—for Heaven's sake—help!"

He sank upon his knees, for everything seemed to be swimming round him before he became quite blind.

But he could hear still as he swooned away, and what he heard was a hearty British cheer.



CHAPTER THIRTY.

AT THE GOAL.

"It has more than paid for it all!" said West that night, when they lay down to rest after a wildly-exciting day.

"Yes," replied Ingleborough, laughing. "I felt quite jealous!"

"I don't believe you!" said West sharply. "You couldn't; they all made as much fuss over you as they did over me, from the chief downward!"

"Well, I suppose they did; but I began to have the horrors once!"

"Horrors?"

"Yes; knowing as I did that they must be short of food, I began to think that they were welcoming us so warmly because we were something good to eat, and all the feasting was the beginning of fattening us up."

"Of course you did!" said West drily.

"I say though," continued Ingleborough; "if it is not a state secret, what was it the chief said to you when he took you aside?"