The black man grinned as he handed the paper over to the corporal.
“But our horses?” said Dick Selmes, dismayed.
“Well, I got back one of them,” answered Greenoak, equably. “One of you can ride John’s—he’s quite able to make his way back to the Kangala alone. So there are mounts for the three of us, and the sooner we get on to the Isiwa fort the better.
“Well, Dick,” he went on, “I take it you’ve found your first experience of express-riding ‘thunderingly exciting,’ as you were saying the other day.”
“I should think so—ugh!” And something like a shudder accompanied the words, as the speaker recalled their recent ghastly experience, and the lamentable fate of the unfortunate man whose body lay just beneath, and which they could not even spare the time to bury.
Chapter Nineteen.
The Ammunition Escort.
“Where did you pick up that man, Jacob Snyman?” said Harley Greenoak.