"One of our race?" interrogated the commandant.
"He is opposed to us," replied Piet; "his name is a foreign one. He is a Scotch settler who breeds many horses and ostriches."
"Has he helped the rooineks?" queried Uys, and a frown passed over his face.
"He does not sympathise with us, Commandant," answered Piet, "but I do not think he has favoured one side or the other. I believe he is entirely taken up with looking after his ostriches."
"And you can guide us to this farm?" asked the commandant. "Possibly he may have some spare nags."
Piet Van Donnop evidently did not like the suggested commission, and the commandant, noting this, went on: "We must have some mounts, Piet, or the rooineks will catch us. If that happens, I'm afraid our fate will be a sorry one. A regiment of Lancers—the men who cut up the Transvaalers at Elandslaagte—as well as several troops of New Zealanders are on our track, and without fresh horses we shall stand an almost sure chance of capture."
"You will not harm Mr. Lovat or his family?" asked Piet.
A smile played for a moment on the commandant's stern features, then he said, "Not at all, Piet. Why should we? I'm afraid your heart is concerned in the matter. But of course we must have what we require, and very few questions asked into the bargain."
"I will guide you, then," said the young burgher. "I may keep my horse, Commandant?"
"We shall see in the morning, boy," was the only reply vouchsafed by the Boer leader; and Piet moved on, leading his lame horse.