“I suppose you’re right, sir; but I don’t see what comfort a trial by court-martial can be to a man who knows that he’s sure to be found guilty and shot.”
“But not till he has been justly condemned,” I put in.
“Like to know any more about what’s going on round about the fort, sir?” said the Sergeant, after giving me a queer look.
“Yes, of course,” cried Denham.
“Well, not much, sir. Colonel’s always going round about to see that the men don’t expose themselves, and I expect that at any time there’ll be orders given that neither the horses nor the bullocks are to be driven out to graze.”
“Then they are all driven out?” I said.
“Of course, sir. We couldn’t keep the bullocks alive without.”
“I wonder the Boers don’t shoot them,” I said.
“Don’t like shooting their own property,” said the Sergeant, with a grin. “They’re always hoping they’ll get ’em back; but they’ll have to look sharp if they do, for if they’re much longer we shall have eaten the lot.”
“Take some time to do that, Sergeant,” said Denham, laughing.