“Well, that despatch says we must go to Mafeking; so we’re prisoners to duty still.”
“Of course!” said West cheerily. “But look here: it’s of no use to tire our ponies. We’re far enough off now to let them walk, or dismount and let them graze till we know which way to steer.”
“It’s all right; keep on, lad! We’re steering as straight as if we had a compass. I believe the ponies know where we want to go, and took the right line at once.”
“Nonsense! You don’t believe anything of the kind. What makes you think we’re going in the right direction?”
“Because the clouds yonder thinned out a bit half-an-hour ago, and I saw three dim stars in a sort of arch, and continuing the line there was another brighter one just in the place where it ought to be. I know them as well as can be of old: the big one sets just in the north-west.”
“Are you sure of that?” cried West eagerly.
“As sure as that I bore off a little to the right as soon as I saw that star, so as to turn more to the north and straight for Mafeking. I don’t guarantee that we are keeping straight for it now the stars are shut out; but we shall know as soon as it’s day by the compass.”
“Why don’t we strike a light and examine it now?” said West eagerly.
“Because we haven’t a match!” replied Ingleborough. “Didn’t our sturdy honest captors take everything away but my knife, which was luckily in my inner belt along with my money?”
“To be sure!” sighed West.