Part 47 (2/2)
”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 das.h.!.+”
”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.”
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