“Come back here, Poynter,” whispered Jack, pulling him gently by the sleeve.
Rising to their feet, they stepped noiselessly across the turf, and retired some hundred yards from the road.
“Look here, Poynter, are you ready to try a risky game?” exclaimed Jack shortly, when they were well out of ear-shot of the sentry. “If so, I believe I have got hold of an idea which will get us safely through the Boer lines.”
“Of course I am,” the young officer replied, with a gay laugh. “I place myself altogether in your hands, and will back you up through thick and thin. So heave ahead, and tell me all about it.”
“To creep through those lines ahead of us will be next door to impossible,” said Jack, “for in the dark we might stumble right up against a sentry, and if the alarm was once given we should have to make a dash back towards Intombi Spruit. Now, it occurred to me that we might get a lift amongst the wagons of this convoy. Each one will be driven by a Kafir, who most likely will be walking alongside his team. Let us select a covered cart and slip into it. There ought to be little difficulty about it this dark night, and if we are lucky we might even get into one drawn by a mule team, and afterwards make use of the animals.”
“By George, Jack, what a thing to think of!” exclaimed Poynter in delight. “Why, it’s about the biggest bit of cheek I ever heard of. Still, it is just the kind of dodge to end successfully, and we’ll do as you say.”
“Ah! I am glad you approve,” Jack answered quietly; “and now all we have to do is to sit down and wait for the convoy to turn up. By the way, to avoid confusion I will pull your sleeve when the right wagon comes along, and then, while you jump in behind, I will slip in in front. Look out in case someone happens to be inside. It would be a bit of bad luck, and if we failed to silence him, there would be nothing for it but to bolt back to Ladysmith as fast as our legs would take us.”
Poynter gave a low grunt to show that he understood, and a minute later, having arranged all their plans, the two young fellows crept down to the edge of the road once more, and hid up in an old and deserted Kafir hut which stood some hundreds of yards from the sentry. They had scarcely settled down when the low rumble of wheels in the distance attracted their attention, and looking back towards Ladysmith, they saw a couple of lanterns suddenly appear within a short distance of them. There was a hoarse shout and a gruff reply as the driver answered the challenge, while at the same moment the rays from the lanterns flashed upon a low, tented wagon, drawn by a long team of mules, at whose head the figure of a Kafir was for one brief second silhouetted against the light, to be swallowed up in the darkness immediately after. Then another wagon came into view, to be followed by another and another, each one of the long string which composed the convoy being inspected by the men who carried the lanterns.
“The first one that comes along is the one for us,” whispered Jack. “The driver is on this side of his team, so we will skip over to the other side of the road. Wait till the wagon is directly in front, and then hop in as quickly as you can.”
“Right! I understand,” was Poynter’s answer.