Part 46 (1/2)

”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 s.h.i.+eld to show that the remains of his share of the provisions were secured to the handle by a rough net of freshly-plaited gra.s.sy 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 compa.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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 c.o.c.king his rifle.

For there was a sudden rus.h.i.+ng 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.