"Ah! yes, I know him. Tall, handsome, dashing young Irish cavalier--
isn't he?"
"No," I said; "a middle-aged, bullying, ruffianly sort of a fellow, with
a red nose," I replied.
"Humph! Then where do you come from?"
"Cameldorn Farm."
"Eh? Hullo!" cried the young man who had captured me. "I say, take off
your hat."
"What for?" I asked.
"Because I want to look at you. How's that scratch you got on the arm
from the lioness?"
"What do you know about the scratch?" I said, leaning forward to look
the speaker full in the eyes.
"Why, only that I shot her. What's your name? Of course, Val."
"Mr Denham!" I cried in astonishment.
"That's your humble servant, sir."
"But you've got a beard now," I cried, holding out my hand. "Oh, I say,
I am glad to see you!"
"The same here, Val, my lad. I say, how you've grown! Here, Colonel,
it's all right. I'll answer for this fellow. Why, Val, you were
commandoed, and cutting away?"
"Yes," I cried excitedly. "Here, Joeboy, this is Boss Denham."
"Um!" ejaculated the black, showing his teeth.
"I was running away from the Boers so as not to serve, Mr Denham," I
said eagerly, for I wanted to wipe off the slurs of coward and spy.
"Well, quite right, my lad," said the Lieutenant. "But what were you
going to do?"
"Get into Natal, sir, and join the Light Horse."
"Well done!" laughed the Colonel, clapping me on the back; "then you've
regularly fallen upon your legs, my lad. That your horse?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good," he cried, looking me over, "and you ride him well. We're the
Light Horse. I'm the Colonel, at your service, and I accept you at once
as a recruit."
"You can go through the swearing-in business some other time, Val," said
the Lieutenant. "Now then, are the Boers in force and coming down the
pass?"