What seemed like a couple of the weariest hours they had ever passed
went slowly by, with everything quite still in the laager; and at last
West, who was lying on his back, side by side with his companion,
whispered: "They're not going on patrol to-night. We must creep out and
escape on foot."
"Without knowing the way through the entrance among the rocks, and with
dozens of sentries about? Can't be done!"
"Pst!" whispered West, for his quick hearing had detected the approach
of someone, and directly after a light was flashed in under the tilt, a
little whispering followed after the dull rays were shut off, and once
more there was silence.
The pair lay a good five minutes without attempting to move or speak,
and then West whispered:
"Two sentries."
"No: one and Fathead."
"How do you know? I daren't look, for fear they should see the gleam of
my eyes."
"I could smell him."
"Scented--out here?"
"Yes; I believe he'd put some scent on his handkerchief and some pomatum
on his hair even if he were going to be shot."
"Hist! Listen," said West quickly; "they're on the stir."
Ingleborough started up, for a voice was heard giving an order, and it
was as if a stick had suddenly been thrust into a beehive and stirred
round.
"Right!" said Ingleborough, in a low tone. "Now's our time! Take a
long deep breath, and let's make the plunge. It will be all right if
you keep close to me!"
West instinctively drew a long breath without thinking of his
companion's advice, for it was to him like a reflection of old boyish
days when he summoned up his courage to take a plunge into deep water
while wanting faith in his powers as a swimmer. But it was only the
making of the plunge.
Following Ingleborough, he dropped off the end of the wagon, boldly led
him to the rifles, and together in the darkness they slipped on the
bandoliers, two each, crossbelt-fashion, slung their rifles behind, put
on their broad felt hats well down over their eyes, and then, imitating
the Boer's heavy slouching walk, they hurried on through the laager in
the direction of the horses.
It was, if possible, darker than ever, and they passed several Boers,
quite half of whom were leading horses, and one of them startled and
encouraged them by growling out in Dutch: "Now then--look sharp, my
lads!"
"We will!" whispered Ingleborough, as soon as they had passed on; "but
oh, if the ponies are gone!"
In another minute they knew that they were still safely tethered as they
had seen them last, while a little search at the end of the empty wagon
brought busy hands in contact with their saddles and bridles.
"Oh, it's mere child's play!" whispered Ingleborough, as they hurried
back to the ponies, which recognised their voices and readily yielded to
being petted, standing firm while the saddles were clapped on and they
were girthed.
"Ready?" said West.
"Yes. Shall we lead them to where the muster is being made?"
"No; let's mount and ride boldly up!" said West.
The next minute they were in the saddle, and, stirred by the natural
instinct to join a gathering of their own kind, both ponies neighed and
ambled towards the spot where about fifty men were collected, some few
mounted, others holding their bridles ready for the order to start.
There was a startler for West, though, just as they were riding towards
the gathering patrol, one which communicated itself to Ingleborough, for
all at once out of the darkness on their left a voice exclaimed: "Here,
Piet, have you moved my rifle?"
"No," came back.
Then after a pause: "Here, what does this mean? Mine's not where I left
it! Come, no nonsense! We may want them at any time! You shouldn't
play tricks like this; it might mean a man's life!"
The intending fugitives heard no more, their horses hurrying them from
the spot, expecting to hear an alarm raised at any moment; but this did
not occur.
It was too dark for the recognition of faces, and the men were for the
most part sleepy and out of humour at being roused up, so that they were
very silent, thinking more of themselves than of their fellows.
There was one trifling episode, though, which was startling for the
moment, for West's pony, being skittish after days of inaction, began to
make feints of biting its nearest neighbour, with the result that the
latter's rider struck at it fiercely and rapped out an angry oath on two
in company with an enquiry delivered in a fierce tone as to who the
something or another West was that he could not keep his pony still.
Fortunately, and setting aside all necessity for a reply, a hoarse order
was given, causing a little confusion, as every dismounted man climbed
into his saddle, and the next moment there was a second order to
advance, when the leading couple went forward and the rest followed,
dropping naturally into pairs, fortunately without West and his
companion being separated.
Then began the loud clattering of hoofs upon the stony way, while they
wound in and out amongst ponderous blocks of granite and ironstone,
trusting to the leading horses, whose riders were warned of danger in
the darkness by the sentries stationed here and there.
Before they were half-way clear from the rocks of the kopje, both West
and Ingleborough were fully convinced that to have attempted to escape
on foot in the darkness must have resulted in failure, while minute by
minute their confidence increased in the ultimate result of their ruse,
for it was evident that the couple of Boers next to them in front and in
rear could have no more idea of who they were than they could gain of
their neighbours.
For every man's time was fully taken up in providing for his own and his
mount's safety--much more in seeking his own, for the sure-footed ponies
were pretty well accustomed to looking after themselves in patches of
country such as in their own half-wild state they were accustomed to
seek for the sake of the lush growth to be found bordering upon the
sources of the streams.
There was not much conversation going on, only the exchange of a few
hoarse grunts from time to time, sufficient, however, to encourage the
two prisoners to think that they might venture upon an observation or
two in Boer-Dutch, both imitating their captors' tones and roughness as
far as they could. But they did not venture upon much, and carefully
avoided whispers as being likely to excite suspicion.
"Have you any plans as to the next start?" said West.
"Only that we should go off north-west as soon as we are well on the
open veldt, and gallop as hard as we can go."
"Which is north-west?"
"Hang me if I have the slightest idea! Have you?"
"No. But it does not matter. Let's get clear away if we can, and shape
our course afterwards when the sun rises."
"Capital plan! Anything more?"
"I've been thinking," answered West, "that if we turn off suddenly
together the whole troop will go in pursuit at once, and then it will be
the race to the swiftest."
"Of course! It always is!"
"Oh no," said West drily; "not always: the most cunning generally wins."
"Very well, then we shall win, for we are more cunning than these
dunder-headed Boers."
They rode on in silence after this for a few minutes, gradually feeling
that they were on level ground, over which the ponies ambled easily
enough; but they could not see thirty yards in any direction.
"Look here," said Ingleborough gruffly: "you've some dodge up your
sleeve! What is it?"
"Only this," replied West; "I've been thinking that if we can get a
hundred yards' clear start, and then strike off to right or left, we can
laugh at pursuit, for they will have lost sight of us and will not know
which way to pursue."
"Yes, that's right enough, but how are you going to get your hundred
yards' start?"
"I'll tell you how I think it can be done," and, bending over towards
his companion, West mumbled out a few words in the darkness and
Ingleborough listened and uttered a low grunt as soon as his friend had
finished.
Then there was utter silence, broken only by the dull clattering sound
of the horses' hoofs upon the soft dusty earth, West listening the while
in the black darkness till he heard Ingleborough upon his left make a
rustling noise caused by the bringing round and unslinging of his rifle,
followed by the loading and then the softly cocking of the piece.
"Ready?" said Ingleborough, at last.
"Yes," was the reply.
"Then one--two--three--and away!" said Ingleborough softly.
At the first word West began to bear upon his horse's rein, drawing its
head round to the right, and at the last he drove his heels sharply into
the pony's flanks and wrenched its head round so suddenly that the
startled little beast made a tremendous bound off towards the open
veldt, its sudden action having a stunning and confusing effect upon the
line of Boers.
"Hi! stop!" roared Ingleborough directly, shouting in the Boer-Dutch
tongue, while as West tore on his companion stood up in his stirrups,
fired two shots after him in succession, and then with another shout he
set spurs to his pony and dashed off as fast as his mount would go.
The fugitives plunged one after the other into the darkness on the
little column's flank, and the burghers saw them for a few moments ere
they disappeared and their ponies' hoofs began to sound dull before they
recovered from the stupor of astonishment the suddenness of the incident
had caused.