le odour
suddenly assailed their nostrils, making them press their ponies' sides
and go past something indistinct at a gallop, holding their breath till
they were well beyond what was in all probability the body of some
wretched horse or ox that had died of overwork and exhaustion.

"We must keep on now!" whispered Ingleborough. "I feel that we are
going right."

"But the Boer laagers and outposts!" whispered back West.

"Somewhere ahead, lad; but we must leave something to chance. We are,
say, within half-a-dozen miles of Mafeking, so I put it; perhaps not
more than two or three. Keep a sharp look-out for lights."

"The enemy's?"

"Or friends'," replied Ingleborough. "There's a good deal of chance
now, and we must trust a little to our luck."

"In other words, you mean make a bold dash?"

"Yes, but not a blind one! I want to put a little gumption into what we
do! You'll trust me?"

"I will!"

"Forward then, and give the ponies their heads!"

West gave vent to a deep low "Hah!" of satisfaction, and away they went,
with their mounts seeming to exult in the freedom from pressure on their
bits, keeping close together, and bounding along over the level veldt as
if perfectly familiar with the way, though their riders knew it to be
bespread with pitfalls in the shape of the burrows made by the aardvarks
and other animals that made the wide open veldt their home.

The moon shone brightly now, though the light was puzzling, and the
distance ahead looked strange and weird; but the pace at which they were
going had a peculiarly exhilarating effect upon both of the riders, who
seemed to share the excitement of their ponies.

For, guesswork though it was, West felt that Mafeking must lie right
ahead, and as they dashed on he began to feel a kind of certainty that
if left to themselves their sagacious steeds would take them right into
the town.

A good four miles must have been passed over in this way, and at last a
fresh sensation began to attack West, filling him with anxiety lest they
should be going in the wrong direction. For he argued that they must
before now, if right, have come upon signs of the besiegers, and he was
in the act of leaning over towards Ingleborough to make him acquainted
with his fears, when all doubt was chased away by a loud challenge from
his right, followed by a flash and a report.

That one shot was the opening note of an overture, for directly after
the balls began whistling ov