Once more he cantered on, and caught up the cart about two miles along the road. Wilfred at once pulled up, and the two young fellows held a consultation.
“It was a piece of bad luck all through,” said Jack, with an exclamation of disgust. “If there had been light enough I should have seen those fellows, and could have warned you so as to avoid them. That flash of lightning just spoilt our chances. If it hadn’t been for that we should have got through. One thing is certain too, that if we had given in to them, and pulled up when they ordered us to do so, we should have had our cart and horses commandeered, and then we should have been in a nice pickle.”
“That’s just what I thought,” answered Wilfred. “I knew it meant that we were prisoners, or that the cart and team would go, so I held on and gave them a taste of the whip when they came alongside. My word, though, it was a precious near shave for us! I very nearly went flying on to the horses’ backs. But as it is, neither of us is hurt, thanks to you, Jack, old boy!”
“Well, it was a near shave,” agreed Jack. “That Boer’s bullet has cut a long slice out of my hat. I was sorry to shoot the poor fellow, but he brought it on himself, and certainly deserved it, for he meant to kill you. But now, about the other man. I took him up the road, and on the way back broke the rifles. I noticed, too, that both their horses had scampered away on to the veldt. For all that he is now on his way to the nearest station, and before two hours have passed the news will have been telegraphed down the road to Yolksrust, and the Boers will be on the look-out for us. What are we to do? We are sure to run our heads into a trap if we go on in this direction.”
“Why not bear to the right and strike into the road for Villiersdorp in the Orange Free State, and from there to Harrismith?” asked Mrs Hunter. “I have driven along it more than once. We can cross the Vaal by the drift (ford), and by taking that route shall put the Boers off the scent.”
“That’s a capital plan, Mrs Hunter!” cried Jack. “What do you think, Wilfred?”
“Yes, I quite agree with Mother,” Wilfred answered. “The Villiersdorp road will be the one for us, and once we get into the other state we shall be comparatively safe from molestation, for the burghers there are not nearly so bitter against us as are these Transvaallers.”
Accordingly the cart was driven off the road to the right, and then across the veldt in a south-westerly direction. Soon they bumped across the railway, and before dawn were on the other road. Driving along it a little way they came to a part which was covered with kopjes, and here, within easy distance of the road, they made a halt, pulling the cart into a deep donga (big water-course), where it was completely hidden. Alongside it they stretched out their mackintoshes on the sodden ground, and having waited till the day had broken, and satisfied themselves that no one was about, they lay down and fell asleep.
Three nights later they were in the neighbourhood of Harrismith without having met with any adventure of note upon the way, and on the following night they drove past Albertina, where they discarded the cart, leaving it for the first comer to appropriate, and pushed forward to Van Reenen’s Pass in the Drakenberg mountains. This they knew was already watched by a force of Free Stater Boers, but they were looking more for an invasion from Natal than for refugees endeavouring to slip through from their own country.
Jack scouted ahead, and having found the pass free of men, went back and informed his companions. Then they pushed on again, Wilfred leading one of the three horses and riding another, while Mrs Hunter boldly clung to the back of the third. A pitch-black darkness and heavy rain again favoured them, and they slipped through the pass and down to the plain below unchallenged.