"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 gra.s.s 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 appet.i.tes 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 sc.r.a.p 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 hara.s.sed 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 hors.e.m.e.n 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 sh.e.l.ls in at random. There, don't be grumpy!"

"I can't help it!" cried West pa.s.sionately. "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 hors.e.m.e.n 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 ma.s.ses 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."