d, and a second pony began to
walk on three legs, while the party opened out, galloping so as to form
a half-circle about their enemies, the two ends resting on the river
bank and forming a radius of about three hundred yards.

"Sixteen more ponies to bring down," said Ingleborough; "and those two
dismounted men will take cover and begin to stalk us."

"That's what the whole party will do!" said West bitterly. "We shall
hit no more ponies: they'll get them all into cover, and then come
creeping nearer and nearer."

At that moment Ingleborough fired again right in front where one of the
Boers dismounted among some trees.

"There's one more though," said Ingleborough, for the poor brute he had
fired at reared up and then fell, to lie kicking on its flank. "Try for
another yourself, lad!"

Before he had finished speaking West had fired again, and another pony
was hit, to come tearing towards them, dragging its dismounted rider
after it, for the man clung to the reins till he was jerked off his feet
and drawn along the ground some fifty yards, when his head came in
contact with a stone, and he lay insensible, his pony galloping for
another hundred yards and then falling, paralysed in its hindquarters.

And now the Boers' bullets began to rattle about the stones which
protected the hidden pair, keeping them lying close and only able to
fire now and then; but they got chances which they did not miss of
bringing down, killing, or disabling five more of the enemy's ponies,
which upon being left alone began to graze, and naturally exposed
themselves.

Maddened by their losses and inability to see their foes, the Boers kept
reducing the distance, creeping from stone to bush and from bush to
stone, rendering the defenders' position minute by minute one of greater
peril.

But the danger did not trouble West. It only increased the excitement
from which he suffered, and, with his eyes flashing in his eagerness, he
kept on showing the Boers where he lay by firing at every opportunity,
religiously keeping his aim for the ponies, in the full belief that
before long the Boers would retire.

"It's no good to play that game!" cried Ingleborough suddenly, and he
made a quick movement, turning a little to his right and firing.

There was a hoarse yell, and a man sprang up not above a hundred yards
away, dropped his rifle, and turning round he began to stagger away.

"You are firing at the Boers, Ingle," cried West excitedly.