Chapter Five.
A Dash for Liberty.
As I have said, one of my reins was unbuckled, passed over the horse’s neck, and buckled to the Boer’s saddle-bow; and in consequence of the length of the strap, it hung down in a long curve when we were riding a fair distance apart, so I felt I had only to press my horse close alongside that of my companion to slacken the leather strap still further. My plan was almost a forlorn hope; but I could think of no other, and determined to try it, even if, as would probably be the case, it meant no more than dragging me suddenly from the saddle, to fall and be trampled among the horses’ heels. Still, I was determined, and only waited now for the thrilling moment when I would try.
We rode on for what seemed to me another mile, and still one moment seemed as good as another. I was ready to despair. Then the time came. The Boer at my side, having slung his cocked rifle over his shoulder, fumbled in the darkness for something. Guessing what my companion was about to do, with a slight pressure of my right leg I made Sandho edge gradually closer. I was quite right. He took out a big Dutch pipe and a pouch, proceeding to fill the bowl and press down the tobacco; and as he worked so did I. Edging Sandho nearer and nearer, with my heart beginning to beat with big, heavy throbs, I withdrew my left foot from the stirrup, lowered it down in front of the loosely-hanging rein, and, as soon as that was level with my ankle, twisted my foot again and again, till the rein was three times round. Then I felt the drag upon the Boer’s saddle-bow, just as the man was getting a light; and at that moment my leg came in contact with his so suddenly that it jerked him, and the match he had struck went out.
“Thunder and lightning!” he growled, kicking out to drive Sandho farther away, but missing him, for I had just thrust my toe back into the stirrup-iron and was pressing my horse away.
The next minute scratch went another match, the bright light shining out for a moment between us so that I could see the man’s face plainly as he held the burning splint between his hands on a level with his chin. Then it was out again, for with a loud, shrill cry I was urging Sandho to make his great effort—one which, as I have said, meant either freedom—if the escape of one bound as I was could be so regarded—or the horse galloping away and leaving me to be trampled under foot.
“Ri—ri—ri—ri—ri—ri!” I half-shrieked, and Sandho made a tremendous bound. There was a jerk at my left leg which nearly dragged me from the saddle, and then we were off and away, the horse tearing over the level plain out into the darkness; while close behind, after a momentary pause, I heard the trampling of horses and the high-pitched voice of the Irish leader yelling out orders. Then flash after flash cut the darkness, and crack, crack, crack came the reports of the rifles, as the men fired in what they believed to be my direction; but I heard no whistling bullet, and the firing ceased as quickly as it had begun, for there was the risk of my pursuers inflicting injury upon their fellows who led, and whom I could hear thundering along behind me, while with voice and knee I urged Sandho on at his greatest speed.
A wild feeling of elation sent the blood dancing through my veins as we raced along, and I was ready to burst out into shout after shout of triumph, for I was free! free! And away we went, I almost perfectly helpless, and knowing I must trust to my brave horse to carry me beyond the reach of pursuit.
Throb, throb, throb went his hoofs on the soft earth, and throb, throb, throb went my heart, during what seemed now like some wild, feverish dream in which I was careering onward through the semi-transparent darkness, fully expecting every moment to see some great patch of brush or pile of loose granite loom up before us, to be followed by a tremendous leap, a crash as we came to horrible grief, and then insensibility; but nothing of the kind occurred, for I had chosen the happiest moment for my attempt, and we were galloping over the almost level veldt. But evidently guided by the beat of my horse’s hoofs, the Boers were still in full chase, the deep thudding of their troopers sounding loud and clear.