“No, I don’t think they did.”
“Then we will,” cried West excitedly; “that must be south and west. Forward for Kimberley; it can’t be far now; and let’s deliver the despatch.”
“Hold hard! Look before you leap!” shouted Ingleborough; and, rising in his stirrups, he gave a hasty glance round, to see Boers here, Boers there, in parties of from six to a dozen, spreading out as they came along at a gallop, forming more and more of a circle, till there was an opening only in one direction—to the south-west—and after grasping this fully he turned to West as he settled himself in his saddle.
“Why, Noll, lad,” he cried, “it’s like the drawing of a seine-net in Cornwall, with us for the shoal of mackerel. They’ve got it nearly round us, and if we don’t start, in another ten minutes we shall be enclosed. It looks fishy, and no mistake!”
“Then come on!” cried West.
“Off with you, but at a gentle gallop. We must nurse our nags, for the obstinate brutes will make it a long chase.”
As he spoke he pressed his pony’s sides, and away they went together at a long easy gallop, their mounts keeping so close together that the riders’ legs nearly touched, and the brave little animals taking stride for stride and needing no guidance, the best management being to give them their heads and perfect freedom to avoid all the obstacles which came in their way in the shape of rock, bush, and the perilous holes burrowed in the soil by the South African representatives of our rabbits.
Once settled down in their saddles, with the opening in the Boer net straight before them, the fugitives had no difficulty in carrying on a conversation, and this ensued in the calmest matter-of-fact way concerning the predicament in which they had landed themselves.
“It’s very awkward, Noll!” said Ingleborough.
“But, to use your favourite argument, it seems all for the best,” replied West. “We can easily reach the open ground yonder before the enemy, and then ride right away.”