“Yes,” said the major; “but we can take no more, and we can’t leave the stores for the enemy.—Here, Dickenson, take Sergeant James and play engineer. I have had the trains laid and fuses placed ready. You two must fire them as soon as we are a few hundred yards away.”
Dickenson shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.
“Take care, and make sure the fuses are burning; then hurry away. Don’t run any risks, and don’t let Sergeant James be foolhardy.”
“I’ll mind, sir,” said Dickenson shortly.
“The wagons will be fired before we start, so that the wind will keep them going.”
“What about the powder?” said Dickenson gruffly. “That is all together. There are three wagons wheeled down into the shelter of the rock, so that the blast will not reach the fire.”
“It’ll blow it right up,” growled Dickenson.
“No,” said the major; “the rocks will deflect it upwards. I’ve seen to that.”
“Couldn’t we make the mules carry off the wagons? All three ambulances will not be wanted.”
“My dear boy, you mean well,” said the major impatiently; “but pray be content with taking your orders. Edwards and I have thought all that out. The fire will not go near the wounded Boers, and the explosion will not touch the fire. As to carrying off these wagon-loads of cartridges that will not fit our rifles or guns, what is the use? Now, are you satisfied?”