CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
MAN-HUNTING.
Whatsoever this may have been, the sudden appearance of the two freshhorsemen decided the course of some thirty or forty, who stood about fora few moments staring wonderingly at the pair flying down the descent,before mounting in some cases, in others seizing their rifles andflinging themselves upon the ground to load rapidly and take aim.
"Mind how you go, Noll!" shouted Ingleborough. "A fall means beingtaken prisoner now!"
He had hardly shouted the words before the bullets came buzzing abouttheir ears like bees after disturbers on a hot swarming day in oldEngland.
"Take care!" cried West excitedly. "It will be a long chase; so don'tpress your nag too hard. Lie down on your horse's neck; the bullets arecoming more and more, and we shan't be safe for another mile."
"Bah! It's all nonsense about their marksmanship," cried Ingleborough,who seemed to be suffering from a peculiar kind of elation in whichthere was no feeling of fear. "Let them shoot! We're end on to them,and have a clear course! They're trained to shoot springbok, I suppose,when they get a chance; but they haven't had much experience ofgalloping men. Fire away, you cowardly brutes!" he roared, as if hefancied that the enemy could hear him. "I don't believe you could hit arunaway railway truck or a cantering furniture-van, let alone a horsewith a man on its back."
"Ah!" cried West, at that moment, as he turned from looking back andsnatched off his broad-brimmed hat.
"Noll, boy, don't say you're hit!" cried Ingleborough passionately.
"No," said West, drawing his breath with a peculiar sound. "I'veescaped; but I thought I'd got it! I felt as if my hat was beingsnatched off, and something touched my ear."
"Turn your head this way!" said Ingleborough huskily.
"Wait a moment!" replied West, who had passed his hat into his reinhand, to afterwards clap his right to his head and draw it away.
"First blood to them!" he said, with a mocking laugh.
"Here, we must ease up and let me bandage it," said Ingleborough.
"No, thanks: that's a likely tale with the bullets flying like this!Keep on, man; we've got a fair start! Let's get past those treesforward yonder; they'll shelter us a bit!"
"But your wound, my lad?"
"They've only nicked the edge of my ear. It will stop bleeding ofitself. There's nothing to mind!"
Ingleborough watched him eagerly as he spoke, and seeing for himselfthat there was only a feeble trickle of blood from the cut ear, hepressed on in the required direction.
"Give me warning," he cried, "if you feel faint, and we'll pull up,dismount, and cover ourselves with our horses while we try what practicewe can make if they come on."
"_If_ they come on!" said West bitterly. "Look for yourself; they'realready coming!"
Ingleborough turned his head sharply, to see that a line of gallopingmen had just been launched from the Boer laager to the right and left,and were streaming in single file down the slope, leaving ample roombetween them for their dismounted companions to keep up a steady fireupon the fugitives.
"That's their game, is it?" said Ingleborough, between his teeth. "Verywell, then, we must make a race of it and see what our picked ponies cando."
"That's right!" cried West. "Let's open out a little!"
"Right, and give them less to aim at! The bullets are flying wildlynow. Ten yards apart will do."
They separated to about this distance, and at a word from West eachnipped his pony's flanks with his knees and rose a little in thestirrups, with the result that the wiry little animals stretched outgreyhound fashion and flew over the veldt as if thoroughly enjoying thegallop.
"Steady! steady!" shouted West, at the end of ten minutes. "We'releaving the brutes well behind, and the bullets are getting scarce.Don't let's worry the brave little nags! With a start like this we canleave the Boers well behind."
Ingleborough nodded after a glance backward and followed his companion'sexample, drawing rein so that their steeds settled down into ahand-gallop, still leaving their pursuers farther behind. The groundwas now perfectly level, stretching for three or four miles without anobstacle, and then the horizon line was broken by one of the many kopjesof the country, one which lay right in their line of flight.
"What about that?" said West. "Shall we make for it and get intoshelter ready for using our rifles?"
"I don't like it!" replied Ingleborough. "There might be another partythere, and then it would be like galloping into another hornets' nest."
"I don't like it either," said West; "but we must think of our horses,and by the time we get there half of this pursuing lot will have tailedoff, while I don't believe the rest will come on if we shoot pretty truefrom behind some rock."
"That's right!" said Ingleborough. "We mustn't let them keep us on therun, for the horses' sake."
"Look out!" said West, in warning tones.
"What is it?"
"They're pulling up and dismounting," replied West. "Here come thebullets again."
For as he spoke the buzzing, whizzing notes of danger overhead, whichhad for some minutes ceased, began to utter their warnings again, but ina very irregular way, which brought forth the remark from Ingleboroughthat their enemies' hands were unsteady from their sharp ride.
"The more need then for us to get into a sheltered place where we canrest a few minutes before they can come up," said West. "Let's haveanother sharp gallop and get well among the rocks: it will be riding outof range and getting more in advance before they mount again."
"Right, general!" cried Ingleborough banteringly; and once more theytore over the veldt, pursued only by the bullets, for the followingBoers had dismounted to a man.
"Keep a little wider," said West, laughing outright at his companion'sword "general."
"Don't let's give them a chance by riding so close together!"
"Right! Fine manoeuvre!" replied Ingleborough; and they went on towardsthe kopje at full speed, both feeling a wild kind of exhilaration as thewind rushed by their cheeks, and the plucky little horses stretched outmore and more as if enjoying the race as much as their riders.
Strange terms "exhilaration" and "enjoying," but none the less true.For there was no feeling of dread, even though the bullets kept onwhizzing by them to right, to left, in front, far behind; now highoverhead, and more often striking up the dust and ricochetting intospace, to fall neither knew where. Every leaden messenger, it itreached its mark, meant a wound; many would have resulted in death hadthey struck the fugitives. But the excitement made the rush one wildgratification, combined with a kind of certainty that they would escapescot-free; and they laughed aloud, shouting words of encouragement totheir ponies and cries of defiance and derision at the unsuccessfulriflemen.
"Why, we could do better ourselves, Noll!" cried Ingleborough. "Sothese are your puffed-up Boers whom writers have put in their books andpraised so effusively! My word, what a lot of gammon has been writtenabout rifle-shooting! I believe that Cooper's Deerslayer with hisold-fashioned rifle was a duffer after all, and the wonderful shots ofthe trappers all bluff."
"Perhaps so!" shouted West, rather breathlessly; "but these fellows canshoot!"
"Not a bit!"
"Well, my ear has stopped bleeding; but it smarts as if someone wastrying to saw into the edge."
"Never mind; it's only gristle!" said Ingleborough.
"I don't mind, but if the Boer who fired that bullet had only held hisrifle a hair's breadth more to the left the scrap of lead would havegone into my skull."
"Of course; but then he did not hold his rifle a hair's breadth more tothe left. By jingo!"
"What's the matter?"
"Don't quite know yet. It feels quite numb and free from pain. I don'tthink I'm hit. I half fancy the poor pony has it, for he gave atremendous start. All right; keep on! The bullet struck my rolled-upblanket, and it has gone into the saddle. I can feel the little hole."
"What a narrow escape!" cried West
anxiously. "Come, you must own thatthey can shoot straight! If that bullet had gone a trifle higher itwould have gone through your loins."
"To be sure! and a little higher still, through between my shoulders; atrifle more, through the back of my head; and again a trifle more, andit would have gone above me. As it is, there's a hole in my saddle, andI'm all right."
"Thank Heaven!" cried West.
"I did," said Ingleborough, "but in a quiet way! Yes, lad, they canshoot; but it's a hard mark to hit--a galloping man end on. They'd bebetter if we were going at right angles to the shot!"
"Now then, another five minutes, and we shall be beyond the range oftheir rifles."
"And in another you had better give the word to slacken speed, for theground will be getting rough. Why not give it now? They've ceasedfiring."
"Ease down then to a gentle canter," cried West, in reply, and theirpanting steeds were checked so that for the last mile of their retreatthey progressed at an easy ambling pace which enabled the horses torecover their wind, while the precipitous sides of the eminence in frontgrew clearer to the eye and gave ample proof of being able to furnishnooks which would afford them and their horses security, while enablingthe friends a good opportunity for returning the compliment to the Boersas far as bullets were concerned.
West said something to this effect after taking his glass from where itwas slung and looking back, to see that the enemy was remounting andcontinuing the pursuit.
"Not they!" replied Ingleborough. "They're too fond of whole skins torun risks! They'll lie down in holes and corners to fire at us, butthey will not attack us if we are well in cover, and they find we canhold our rifles straight."
"Then we must!" said West quietly. "Only we shall want a bit of restfirst, for my nerves are all of a quiver, and the blood feels as if itwas jumping in my veins."
"Come along then! We'll soon find a place where we can lie down behindthe stones! The sooner the better too, for I'm beginning to feel rathermurderous."
"Murderous!" cried West.
"Yes: don't you? I'm not going to be shot at for nothing! Look here,Nolly, my lad, life's very sweet, and I value mine. I'm peaceablydisposed enough, but these brutes have invaded our country, and you'vehad proof that they are trying their level best to make us food for thecrows. Under the circumstances don't you think it's time for thelambs--meaning us--to turn upon the butchers--meaning the Boers--and let_them_ feed the crows instead?"
"Don't talk in poetical metaphors, Ingle," said West, with a grim smile."If it comes to the point, we'll make our rifles speak in a way thatwill keep the enemy from stopping to hear the end of what they have tosay."
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Ingleborough; "who's talking metaphorically now?"
"I've done," said West. "Walk!" he cried loudly, and they drew rein, tolet the ponies pick their way up the commencement of a slope dotted withsmall stones, while but a short distance farther on the front of thecastle-like kopje was gashed with little gorges and ravines, offeringplenty of places where horses and men might hide.
"Rather awkward if we were to find that there were some more of theenemy here!" said West, as the nature of the ground forced him to followhis companion, instead of their riding abreast.
He had hardly spoken when it was as if a trumpet had rung out achallenge from one of the little gorges in front, and West answered byshouting: "Right-about face!" and leading the way back. It was notrumpet, but the loud neigh of a Boer horse, while shot after shot wasfired as they galloped away, fortunately being able to shelterthemselves from the fire by striking off to the right as soon as theywere clear of the stones, the higher ones proving their salvation, beingin the way of the enemy's aim.
"Out of the frying-pan into the fire!" cried Ingleborough; "and thefire's going to be hotter than the pan."
"Yes," cried West. "Give them their head! Gallop right for the rivernow."
A Dash from Diamond City Page 14