shallow
between the little pools, then led the way up the stony slope.
The four horses negotiated it very well and the Cape cart, being
splendidly built, took no harm. At the top I looked back and saw
that the Basutos were following us.

"Flog the horses!" I cried to Anscombe, and off we went at a hand
gallop along the native track, the cart swaying and bumping upon
the rough veld. The sun was setting now, in half an hour it
would be quite dark.

Could we keep ahead of them for that half hour?

CHAPTER IX

FLIGHT

The sun sank in a blaze of glory. Looking back by the light of
its last rays I saw a single native silhouetted against the red
sky. He was standing on a mound that we had passed a mile or
more behind us, doubtless waiting for his companions whom he had
outrun. So they had not given up the chase. What was to be
done? Once it was completely dark we could not go on. We should
lose our way; the horses would get into ant-bear holes and break
their legs. Perhaps we might become bogged in some hollow,
therefore we must wait till the moon rose, which would not be for
a couple of hours.

Meanwhile those accursed Basutos would be following us even in
the dark. This would hamper them, no doubt, but they would keep
the path, with which they were probably familiar, beneath their
feet, and what is more, the ground being soft with recent rain,
they could feel the wheel spoor with their fingers. I looked
about me. Just here another track started off in a nor'-westerly
direction from that which we were following. Perhaps it ran to
Lydenburg; I do not know. To our left, not more than a hundred
yards or so away, the higher veld came to an end and sloped in an
easterly direction down to bush-land below.

Should I take the westerly road which ran over a great plain?
No, for then we might be seen for miles and cut off. Moreover,
even if we escaped the natives, was it desirable we should plunge
into civilization just now and tell all our story, as in that
case we must do. Rodd's death was quite justified, but it had
happened on Transvaal territory and would require a deal of
explanation. Fortunately there was no witness of it, except
ourselves. Yes, there was though--the driver Footsack, if he had
got away, which, being mounted, would seem probable, a man who,
for my part, I would not trust for a moment. It would be an ugly
thing to see Anscombe in the dock charged with murder and
po