“You gave me quite a turn!” said West. “Will you leave it to me? I can manage it!”
“Go on, you vain young coxcomb! So can I manage it! If you don’t look out, I’ll be up first! Well, what are you stopping for?”
“Look down there!” said West.
Ingleborough held on tightly while he twisted his head to see that the two ponies had hurried out of the cave to wade to the place where they had started from, and were looking up wonderingly.
“Ha, ha!” laughed Ingleborough. “They’re afraid of being left behind! Here, you two, be off back into your stable,” he continued, getting hold of a loose piece of rock with the intention of dropping it into the water to scare the lookers-on.
“No, no, don’t do that!” said West softly. “You may scare them into cantering down into the midst of the Boers!”
“Right,” said Ingleborough, replacing the stone. “I don’t suppose they’ll mind.”
At that moment one of the ponies whinnied, and the other took up the cry of discontent.
“Quiet, will you? Look here!” said Ingleborough, speaking as if in the full belief that the two animals understood every word. “If you make that row, you’ll have the Boers down upon us, and that will mean new masters, with worse treatment than you get from us! That’s settled them,” continued Ingleborough, speaking again to his companion, and as it happened the two animals did not repeat their challenging cry, but began to nibble at the greenery overhanging the water.
Meanwhile the climbing grew more difficult as the adventurers got higher and more excited, for all at once the rapid crack-crack-crack of rifles began telling of attack and defence, and making the climbers strain every effort to get to the top, which was at last accomplished by West, who drew himself over the edge of the rocks and lay panting for a few moments before looking down.