“But we can’t go and graze,” said another officer.
“No, sir; but we shall be hungry enough by to-morrow night to be ready for a raid on the Boers’ provision wagons. There’ll be plenty, and we must cut one out, fasten a dozen reins to it, and bring it up here.”
“Humph! We might try,” said the Major.
“And we will,” said one of our captains. “Why, we might capture some of their ammunition too,” he added.
“Yes, sir. They’ve got pack-mules with their small-arms ammunition; and with a bit of scheming and a night surprise it might be done,” said the Sergeant. “And there’s another thing I had my eyes on to-day.”
“What’s that, Briggs?” said the Major.
“A train of bullocks, sir; and if one of you gentlemen can shoot the train with a field-glass just before sunset to-morrow night, if we’re here, and give me half-a-dozen men and that black chap as come along with young Mr Moray, I shouldn’t wonder if we had grilled steak for supper just by way of a change.”
“Why, Sergeant,” cried the Major, “if you’re not our adjutant before this war’s over it shan’t be my fault.”
“Thank ye, sir,” said Briggs stolidly; “but I should like to get the beef for the boys and a load of mealies for the horses before we talk about that. And now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll have a couple of hours’ sleep.”
I felt for a few minutes so much brightened up that I was ready to go off too; but the thoughts of poor Denham lying out dead or wounded somewhere on the veldt kept me awake, and I was in greater pain than ever from the blow I had received. And there I lay in my misery till about midnight, when there was an alarm from the sentries of horsemen approaching, and I sprang to my feet.