“Let them, in their ignorance,” I said. “It seems to me far more cowardly to hide one’s self behind a stone and bring down with a rifle a man who can’t reach them.”
“Perhaps so. But where are we making for?”
“That clump of rocks right out yonder, that looks like a town.”
“But they’re making for that too,” said Denham, shading his eyes by pulling down the rim of his soft felt hat.
“Yes,” I said; “and there’s another body behind us, and one on each flank. We’re surrounded.”
“Then why doesn’t the Colonel call a halt and let us stand shoulder to shoulder and fight it out with the ring?”
“Because he wants to save all our lives, I suppose.”
“‘He who fights and runs away will live to fight another day,’” said Denham, with a bitter sneer. “Oh, I’m sick of it. Look here; those brutes of Boers will reach that great kopje first, drop amongst the stones, and shoot us all down just when we get there with our horses pumped out.”
“Yes,” I said, “if you keep on talking instead of nursing your horse.”
“Are you aware that I am your officer?” he cried angrily.