extremely disinclined to stir. Then I uttered a loud
exclamation.

"What's the matter?" said Denham quickly.

"Take the glass," I said; "the sloping sun lights up that part clearly.
There, sight it upon the line below that flat-topped hill in the
distance."

"Yes," he said, taking the glass and focussing it to suit. "What of it?
Boers, Boers, hundreds of Boers."

"But there's something in motion."

"Ah! Yes, I see now: one, two--why, there must be half-a-dozen
ox-wagons with long teams."

"What does that mean?" I said.

"Ox-wagons."

"Yes; but what are they laden with?"

"I dunno," he said, peering through the glass.

"Corn for the horses; provisions for the Boers' camp."

"Of course! Oh dear, if we could only get one of them across here!"

"Well, could it be done?" I said.

Denham shook his head.

"It could only be done in the dark. You mean stampede the bullocks; but
they'd be outspanned at night, and we could never get them inspanned and
away without being beaten off.--Can't see it, Solomon the Wise."

"It does seem difficult," I assented.

"Yes; and, suppose we had got a team hitched on all right, see how they
move: two miles an hour generally. But it does look tempting."

"But we might get a team of oxen away without a wagon by making a bold
dash."

"Might," replied Denham; "but bullocks are miserably obstinate brutes to
drive. It would mean a good supply of beef, though--wouldn't it?"

"Splendid."

"Yes; but we want meal too. I say, I dare say there's coffee and sugar
in those wagons as well."

"Most likely," I said; "the Boers like eating and drinking."

"The pigs! Yes, and we're to starve. I say, couldn't we make a bold
night-attack and drive them away, compelling them to leave their
stores?"

"Well, after last night's experience I should say, `No; we could not,'"
I replied.

"You're quite right, Val," said Denham, with a sigh. "Hullo! here's
your black Cupid come up to have a look at us."

For Joeboy, whom a good hearty meal had made very shiny and
happy-looking, came climbing up to where we sat, and stood looking down
at us as if waiting for orders.

"Here, Joeboy," I said; "look through this."

"Um? Yes, Boss," he said; and, from long usage when out hunting with my
father or with me, he took the glass handily and sat down to scan the
distant Boer line.

"Lot o' Doppie," he said in a low tone, as if talking to himself. "Lot
o' horse feeding; lot o' wagon an