CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

BAD FOR ONE: GOOD FOR TWO.

"It's a bad job--a very bad job," said West, with a sigh, as he mounted one of the pair of very excellent ponies that had been provided for the despatch-riders by the gallant chief in command at Mafeking, with the laughing comment that the two brave little animals ought to consider themselves very lucky in being provided with two such masters, who would take them right away from the beleaguered town, where, if they stayed, their fate was bound to be that they would be minced into sausages or boiled down into soup.

They were two beautiful little beasts; but West always sighed and said it was a bad job whenever he mounted, for his heart was sore about the pony he had lost before they entered Mafeking.

"I say, young fellow," said Ingleborough, with one of his grim smiles: "how much longer are you going to stay in mourning?"

"Stay in mourning?" said West, staring, as he bent forward to pat his mount's back.

"Yes: for those two ponies we lost; because it seems to me very absurd!

To begin with, it's downright folly to bemoan the loss of one pony when you have been provided with another equally good; secondly, it is more absurd to bemoan a pony at all; and thirdly, it is the most absurd thing of all to be mourning for one that in all probability is not dead."

"Oh, they're both dead enough by this time!" said West bitterly.

"Mine may be, for it was. .h.i.t; but from the way it reared up and kicked out it had no bones broken, and these Basuto ponies are such hardy little beasts that I daresay it got better; while yours was so good that you may depend upon it some Boer has it nipped tightly between his legs, and is making the most of it."

"I hope you are right!" said West. "And there, I will not mourn for them, as you call it, any more, but make the best of things. Let's see; this is the sixth day out from Mafeking."

"Seventh," said Ingleborough correctively.

"Of course; so it is, but I lose count through being so intent upon the one idea of getting back to Kimberley. Do you think we shall manage to get through the Boer lines?"

"Think? Why, we've got to get through them. We shouldn't be long if we could only ride straight away, and not be always running right on to some fresh party who begin to make game of us directly."

"That's rather an ambiguous way of speaking, Ingle," said West, laughing, as he caressed his pony. "If anybody else heard you he would think you meant that the Boers bantered and chaffed us."

"But n.o.body else does hear us, and you think that I mean that they begin to pump out bullets at us just as if we were a pair of springboks. I say, I'm beginning to think that we are leading a charmed life, for it is wonderful what escapes we have had from their long-carrying rifles."

"I'm beginning to think in a much more matter-of-fact way," replied West; "and I think this, that five hundred yards' range is quite long enough for any rifle used on active service. I know that when one takes aim beyond that distance one is very doubtful of hitting."

"I feel so after half that distance," replied Ingleborough, and then: "Hullo! See something?"

"Yes; I thought we were going to have a good long ride in peace this morning, but look yonder!"

The two young men drew rein and leaped to the ground, each hurriedly getting out his gla.s.s, for the commandant at Mafeking had supplied them with fresh ones, to steady it by resting it upon the saddle he had just quitted, their well-trained ponies standing perfectly motionless.

"What do you make of it?" said Ingleborough, scanning a mistily-seen dark line right away beneath the sun.

"Wagons trekking," replied West quietly.

"Friends?"

"Who can say? I think not. Reinforcements and stores on the way to the besiegers, I should think."

"I'm afraid you are right! Well, we had better let the nags feed while we lie down and watch, for I don't think they have seen us yet."

"Very well," said West. "I'm tired of so much running away!"

The next minute they were lying amongst some stones and their ponies grazing, Ingleborough coolly filling his pipe and lighting it with a burning-gla.s.s, but keeping a watchful eye upon the long train of wagons and hors.e.m.e.n plodding along at the customary rate of about two miles an hour, and ready at any moment to spring upon his pony in case a party of the enemy should make up their minds to try and drive in the two ponies when they caught their eye.

This he knew was doubtful, for it was beginning to be a common sight upon the veldt--that of a wounded or worn-out horse or two picking up a scanty living from the gra.s.s and green points of the shrubs, while an investigation generally proved that the poor brutes were not worth the trouble of the ride.

Still, on the other hand, the suspicious nature of the Boers might prompt them to see whether riders were near the grazing animals, and an opportunity for capturing a prisoner or two be theirs.

The pair kept a keen look-out; but it seemed for a long time that they were to be left in peace, the long line of wagons and hors.e.m.e.n plodding steadily onward, completely blocking the way the bearers of the Kimberley despatch had to take.

At last, though, just after West had expressed his opinion that the Boers were too intent upon getting their heavy guns on towards Mafeking, Ingleborough, unnoticed by his companion, made a sudden movement, dropping his pipe and altering the small lenses of his field-gla.s.s, through which he lay gazing, supporting himself upon his elbows.

"Hah!" said West, who was similarly occupied; "they've got four heavy guns and a tremendous lot of stores. Wouldn't one of our generals give something to have his men so arranged that he could cut them off in all directions! The country is so open, and not a kopje in sight. What a prize those guns would be!"

"Yes," said Ingleborough sharply; "but there is no British force at hand, so they are going to surround us instead."

"What!" cried West excitedly.

"That they are, and no mistake!" continued Ingleborough, slewing himself round so as to look in a different direction.

"You don't mean--oh, Ingle! Three strong bodies coming from behind, north and south. Why, we're trapped!"

"We are, my lad; for here they come from the front."

West turned his gla.s.s again in the direction of the long line of wagons after his look round, to see that a party of the Boers were riding out straight for them.

"Trapped; but we must dodge between the wires, eh?" cried West, who, like his companion, had made at once for where his pony was grazing.

"Hah! Look out, Ingle!"

Ingleborough was looking out, but left helpless. West had caught his pony, but his companion had startled the other by the suddenness of his approach, and, throwing up its head, the little animal cantered off with his rider after him.

"Stop, stop!" shouted West. "You only scare the brute more."

"Right!" said Ingleborough sadly, and he stopped short and began to return. "There!" he cried, as West sprang into his saddle; "you have the despatch. Off with you through that opening! I won't hinder you!

I'll turn prisoner again for a change."

"Lay hold of my pony's tail and run! I'll keep him to a canter, and change with you as soon as you're tired!" said West, scanning the opening between the end of the Boer line and the party of hors.e.m.e.n away to his left who were making straight for them, lying towards the middle of the line, where the big guns were being dragged along.

"No good!" said Ingleborough. "Off with you, and save your despatch!"

"Can't leave you, old fellow! Do as I tell you!" cried West. "Hook on!"

"I will not! They won't kill me if I throw up my hands! Save your despatch if you can!"

"Obey orders, sir!" roared West fiercely, "and don't waste time! I'm going to trot after your mount, and he'll join us."

"Hah! Bravo, sharp brains!" cried Ingleborough excitedly, and twisting the long thick hair of the pony's tail about his left hand he ran lightly after his companion, the pony West rode uttering a shrill neigh as they went off, which made the other stop, c.o.c.k up its ears, answer, and come galloping after them, so eager to join its fellow that it brushed close past Ingleborough, who caught the rein without trouble.