gruffly: "you've some dodge up your
sleeve! What is it?"

"Only this," replied West; "I've been thinking that if we can get a
hundred yards' clear start, and then strike off to right or left, we can
laugh at pursuit, for they will have lost sight of us and will not know
which way to pursue."

"Yes, that's right enough, but how are you going to get your hundred
yards' start?"

"I'll tell you how I think it can be done," and, bending over towards
his companion, West mumbled out a few words in the darkness and
Ingleborough listened and uttered a low grunt as soon as his friend had
finished.

Then there was utter silence, broken only by the dull clattering sound
of the horses' hoofs upon the soft dusty earth, West listening the while
in the black darkness till he heard Ingleborough upon his left make a
rustling noise caused by the bringing round and unslinging of his rifle,
followed by the loading and then the softly cocking of the piece.

"Ready?" said Ingleborough, at last.

"Yes," was the reply.

"Then one--two--three--and away!" said Ingleborough softly.

At the first word West began to bear upon his horse's rein, drawing its
head round to the right, and at the last he drove his heels sharply into
the pony's flanks and wrenched its head round so suddenly that the
startled little beast made a tremendous bound off towards the open
veldt, its sudden action having a stunning and confusing effect upon the
line of Boers.

"Hi! stop!" roared Ingleborough directly, shouting in the Boer-Dutch
tongue, while as West tore on his companion stood up in his stirrups,
fired two shots after him in succession, and then with another shout he
set spurs to his pony and dashed off as fast as his mount would go.

The fugitives plunged one after the other into the darkness on the
little column's flank, and the burghers saw them for a few moments ere
they disappeared and their ponies' hoofs began to sound dull before they
recovered from the stupor of astonishment the suddenness of the incident
had caused.

Then a voice shouted fiercely: "A deserter! Fire and bring him down!"

"No: stop!" shouted the leader, in a stentorian voice. "Do you want to
shoot your faithful brother?"

There was a murmur of agreement at this, and the rustle and rattle of
rifles being unslung stopped at once.

"Who is the burgher who followed the traitor?" continued the leader.

There was no reply, only a low muttering of voices as the Boers
questio