Now and again during the day Jack climbed to his lookout post again to see that no one was approaching, and during the afternoon both enjoyed three hours’ refreshing sleep.
When night fell Riley was almost able to support his weight on his legs, so rapidly were the effects of the snake-bite disappearing, and once Jack had hoisted him into the saddle he was able to retain his position there unaided.
“Now, old horse,” he said cheerily, “I am at your service. We are both of us bound for Roberts’s camp with despatches, and since I am more or less of a cripple and do not know the country, I place myself in your hands.”
“Then we’ll push ahead at once,” answered Jack. “Sing out if you are feeling knocked up, and be ready to be lifted off your saddle and lie down at any moment. The country a few miles south of this is full of Boers, who are always on the look-out for despatch-carriers.”
Taking the pony by the bridle, Jack stepped forward over the short grass of the veldt, and kept steadily on, hour after hour. Once or twice he listened eagerly, fancying he heard sounds, but on each occasion it was a false alarm, and after a moment’s pause he took the road again.
By midnight they were abreast of Kimberley, and two hours later, after making a wide détour, they caught sight of the twinkling fires in the British camp.
“Now we’ll have to be extra cautious,” whispered Jack. “If we are challenged by a Boer, leave the answering to me.”
“All right, Somerton!” Riley answered. Then suddenly pulling Jack by the coat, he exclaimed: “Hush! What is that? Look over there!”
Jack looked in the direction indicated, and caught sight of a dusky figure some thirty yards away. Instantly he let go of the bridle and unslung his rifle.
“Who goes there?” came a loud hail at this moment.