“Now our first duty is to give the enemy permission to remove their dead and wounded,” exclaimed Frank. “Let us pull down one of these boards and shout to them.”
Accordingly a plank was wrenched from one of the windows, and a white flag waved through the opening. A Boer horseman at once galloped up, and, riding into the garden, reined in opposite the window.
“You can remove your dead and wounded,” said Jack, who had agreed to act as spokesman, so that Frank Russel should not appear. “Only ten of you must come for them, and on no account must anyone be armed. We will give you an hour to do the work. After that we shall fire on anyone who approaches.”
The Boer courteously expressed his thanks, and at once rode away.
Five minutes later a wagon was driven up to the railings, and the party who had come to pick up the dead and wounded entered the garden.
Those inside the house sat down at their loopholes and kept a close watch, for they had heard before of Boer treachery and slimness, and more than one incident of the abuse of the white flag had been clearly exposed during the opening days in Natal. As they watched they hastily ate a meal, and having finished looked to their rifles.
All this while the unhappy men who had been wounded were being gently conveyed to the wagons, and Jack and his friends pitied them, and admired them for their fortitude. Scarcely a groan did they utter. They bore their sufferings patiently and in silence, and won the unstinted sympathy and praise of those who, by the fortune of war, had been the cause of their trouble.
At last all were removed, the search-party retired, and the young Boer who had at first replied to the white flag trotted up to the window and once more expressed his thanks. Then he turned his horse and galloped away, leaving the four inmates of the farmhouse to resume the desperate and one-sided struggle.