“We must risk that. Perhaps they’ll just come and look at the cords with a lantern. We must sit quite still until they come.”
“No,” I said eagerly; “don’t let’s cut the rope till they’ve been. I dare say they’ll come for the pannikins, and perhaps that Boer has told them to bring us those rugs again.”
Chapter Forty Five.
A Damper For Our Plans.
I had hardly ceased speaking when a couple of our guards appeared at the back of the wagon, and climbed in after they had tossed in the two big rugs they had taken away when the German doctor came to examine us.
Though anxious to dart a quick glance at Denham, I dared not, for at the first glance I saw that each man was provided with a rein. Taking our tins and passing them to two men whose rifle-barrels appeared above the back of the wagon, they returned to where we sat up and carefully examined our bonds, one of them giving a grunt and speaking to his companion as he pointed to them. They next dragged our arms roughly behind us, slipping our hands through running nooses, which they drew tight before winding the thongs round and round, securing them as firmly as ever.
“You needn’t have done that,” I said angrily to the man who, while tying me up, had roused my resentment by his brutality.
“We’ll take them off in the morning, when the Captain comes,” he replied. The other man laughed. They had finished their task deftly enough.