"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.