The horses had now been drawn in to be treated as if they were oxen, and in a few minutes not one of the baboons was to be seen. There were two or three alarms in the course of the day, but no direct attack; and the whole of the horses had a good long graze, the vegetation after the late rains being fairly abundant in places, though for the most part the veldt in the neighbourhood of the old fortress was very dry and bare. There was abundance of water, however, for a stone tied to the end of four reins carefully joined did not suffice to plumb the well-like hole.
That evening, as Denham and I sat playing the part of voluntary sentry, my companion lent me his glass to watch the distant troops of Boers, which I did diligently. We were seated on the top of the wall, for the simple reason that both of us were terribly stiff and bruised, and consequently extremely disinclined to stir. Then I uttered a loud exclamation.
“What’s the matter?” said Denham quickly.
“Take the glass,” I said; “the sloping sun lights up that part clearly. There, sight it upon the line below that flat-topped hill in the distance.”
“Yes,” he said, taking the glass and focussing it to suit. “What of it? Boers, Boers, hundreds of Boers.”
“But there’s something in motion.”
“Ah! Yes, I see now: one, two—why, there must be half-a-dozen ox-wagons with long teams.”
“What does that mean?” I said.
“Ox-wagons.”
“Yes; but what are they laden with?”