d not be persuaded to
move. So I slipped off again over its tail and we went on as
before. Meanwhile the Basutos, very active fellows, were coming
up. By this time the yellow-wood grove in the swamp, of which I
have already written, was close to us, and it became quite a
question which of us would get there first (I may mention that
Footsack & Co. had already attained its friendly shelter).
Anscombe kicked the horse with his sound heel and I thumped it
with my fist, thereby persuading it to a hand gallop.

As we reached the outlying trees of the wood the first Basuto, a
lank fellow with a mouth like a rat trap, arrived and threw an
assegai at us which passed between Anscombe's back and my nose.
Then he closed and tried to stab with another assegai. I could
do nothing, but Anscombe showed himself cleverer than I expected.
Dropping the reins, he drew his pistol and managed to send a
bullet through that child of nature's head, so that he went down
like a stone.

"And you tell me I am a bad shot," he drawled.

"It was a fluke," I gasped, for even in these circumstances truth
would prevail.

"Wait and you'll see," he replied, re-cocking the revolver.

As a matter of fact there was no need for more shooting, since at
the verge of the swamp the Basutos pulled up. I do not think
that the death of their companion caused them to do this, for
they seemed to take no notice of him. It was as though they had
reached some boundary which they knew it would not be lawful for
them to pass. They simply stopped, took the dead man's assegai
and shield from the body and walked quietly back towards the
wagon, leaving him where he lay. The horse stopped also, or
rather proceeded at a walk.

"There!" exclaimed Anscombe. "Did I not tell you I had a
presentiment that I should kill a man in this accursed wood?"

"Yes," I said as soon as I had recovered my breath, "but you
mixed up a woman with the matter and I don't see one."

"That's true," he replied, "I hope we shan't meet her later."

Then we went on as quickly as we could, which was not very fast,
for I feared lest the Basutos should change their minds and
follow us. As the risk of this became less our spirits rose,
since if we had lost the wagon and the oxen, at least we had
saved our lives, which was almost more than we could have
expected in the circumstances. At last we came to that glade
where we had killed the wildebeeste not a week before. There lay
its skele