CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
EVERYTHING COMES TO THE MAN WHO WAITS.
What seemed like a couple of the weariest hours they had ever passedwent slowly by, with everything quite still in the laager; and at lastWest, 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 andescape on foot."
"Without knowing the way through the entrance among the rocks, and withdozens of sentries about? Can't be done!"
"Pst!" whispered West, for his quick hearing had detected the approachof someone, and directly after a light was flashed in under the tilt, alittle whispering followed after the dull rays were shut off, and oncemore 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 ofmy eyes."
"I could smell him."
"Scented--out here?"
"Yes; I believe he'd put some scent on his handkerchief and some pomatumon 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 itwas as if a stick had suddenly been thrust into a beehive and stirredround.
"Right!" said Ingleborough, in a low tone. "Now's our time! Take along deep breath, and let's make the plunge. It will be all right ifyou keep close to me!"
West instinctively drew a long breath without thinking of hiscompanion's advice, for it was to him like a reflection of old boyishdays when he summoned up his courage to take a plunge into deep waterwhile wanting faith in his powers as a swimmer. But it was only themaking of the plunge.
Following Ingleborough, he dropped off the end of the wagon, boldly ledhim to the rifles, and together in the darkness they slipped on thebandoliers, two each, crossbelt-fashion, slung their rifles behind, puton their broad felt hats well down over their eyes, and then, imitatingthe Boer's heavy slouching walk, they hurried on through the laager inthe 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 andencouraged them by growling out in Dutch: "Now then--look sharp, mylads!"
"We will!" whispered Ingleborough, as soon as they had passed on; "butoh, if the ponies are gone!"
In another minute they knew that they were still safely tethered as theyhad seen them last, while a little search at the end of the empty wagonbrought busy hands in contact with their saddles and bridles.
"Oh, it's mere child's play!" whispered Ingleborough, as they hurriedback to the ponies, which recognised their voices and readily yielded tobeing petted, standing firm while the saddles were clapped on and theywere 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 naturalinstinct to join a gathering of their own kind, both ponies neighed andambled towards the spot where about fifty men were collected, some fewmounted, others holding their bridles ready for the order to start.
There was a startler for West, though, just as they were riding towardsthe gathering patrol, one which communicated itself to Ingleborough, forall 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 leftit! Come, no nonsense! We may want them at any time! You shouldn'tplay tricks like this; it might mean a man's life!"
The intending fugitives heard no more, their horses hurrying them fromthe spot, expecting to hear an alarm raised at any moment; but this didnot occur.
It was too dark for the recognition of faces, and the men were for themost part sleepy and out of humour at being roused up, so that they werevery silent, thinking more of themselves than of their fellows.
There was one trifling episode, though, which was startling for themoment, for West's pony, being skittish after days of inaction, began tomake feints of biting its nearest neighbour, with the result that thelatter's rider struck at it fiercely and rapped out an angry oath on twoin company with an enquiry delivered in a fierce tone as to who thesomething or another West was that he could not keep his pony still.
Fortunately, and setting aside all necessity for a reply, a hoarse orderwas given, causing a little confusion, as every dismounted man climbedinto his saddle, and the next moment there was a second order toadvance, when the leading couple went forward and the rest followed,dropping naturally into pairs, fortunately without West and hiscompanion being separated.
Then began the loud clattering of hoofs upon the stony way, while theywound in and out amongst ponderous blocks of granite and ironstone,trusting to the leading horses, whose riders were warned of danger inthe darkness by the sentries stationed here and there.
Before they were half-way clear from the rocks of the kopje, both Westand Ingleborough were fully convinced that to have attempted to escapeon foot in the darkness must have resulted in failure, while minute byminute 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 inrear could have no more idea of who they were than they could gain oftheir neighbours.
For every man's time was fully taken up in providing for his own and hismount's safety--much more in seeking his own, for the sure-footed ponieswere pretty well accustomed to looking after themselves in patches ofcountry such as in their own half-wild state they were accustomed toseek for the sake of the lush growth to be found bordering upon thesources of the streams.
There was not much conversation going on, only the exchange of a fewhoarse grunts from time to time, sufficient, however, to encourage thetwo prisoners to think that they might venture upon an observation ortwo in Boer-Dutch, both imitating their captors' tones and roughness asfar as they could. But they did not venture upon much, and carefullyavoided 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 theopen 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 shapeour course afterwards when the sun rises."
"Capital plan! Anything more?"
"I've been thinking," answered West, "that if we turn off suddenlytogether the whole troop will go in pursuit at once, and then it will bethe 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 thesedunder-headed Boers."
They rode on in silence after this for a few minutes, gradually feelingthat they were on level ground, over which the ponies ambled easilyenough; but they could not see thirty yards in any direction.
"Look here," said Ingleborough gruffly: "you've some dodge up yoursleeve! What is it?"
"Only this," replied West; "I've been thinking that if we can get ahundred yards' clear start, and then strike off to right or left, we canlaugh at pursuit, for they will have lost sight of us and will not knowwhich way to pursue."
"Yes, that's right enough, but how are you going to get your hundredyards' start?"
"I'll tell you how I think it can be done," and, bending over towardshis companion, West mumbled out a few words in the darkness andIngleborough listened and uttered a low grunt as soon as his friend hadfinished.
Then there was utter silence, broken only by the dull clattering soundof the horses' hoofs upon the soft dusty earth, West liste
ning the whilein the black darkness till he heard Ingleborough upon his left make arustling 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 itshead round to the right, and at the last he drove his heels sharply intothe pony's flanks and wrenched its head round so suddenly that thestartled little beast made a tremendous bound off towards the openveldt, its sudden action having a stunning and confusing effect upon theline of Boers.
"Hi! stop!" roared Ingleborough directly, shouting in the Boer-Dutchtongue, while as West tore on his companion stood up in his stirrups,fired two shots after him in succession, and then with another shout heset 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 thelittle column's flank, and the burghers saw them for a few moments erethey disappeared and their ponies' hoofs began to sound dull before theyrecovered from the stupor of astonishment the suddenness of the incidenthad caused.
Then a voice shouted fiercely: "A deserter! Fire and bring him down!"
"No: stop!" shouted the leader, in a stentorian voice. "Do you want toshoot your faithful brother?"
There was a murmur of agreement at this, and the rustle and rattle ofrifles being unslung stopped at once.
"Who is the burgher who followed the traitor?" continued the leader.
There was no reply, only a low muttering of voices as the Boersquestioned one another.
"Wait," continued the officer in command. "I daresay our brother haswounded him and will bring him back in a few minutes."
The Boers waited with their little force drawn up in line and facing theblack far-stretching veldt, every man wondering which two of their partyhad been traitor and pursuer, and naturally waited in vain.