ou cowardly brutes!" he roared, as if he
fancied that the enemy could hear him. "I don't believe you could hit a
runaway railway truck or a cantering furniture-van, let alone a horse
with a man on its back."

"Ah!" cried West, at that moment, as he turned from looking back and
snatched 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've
escaped; but I thought I'd got it! I felt as if my hat was being
snatched 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 rein
hand, 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 trees
forward 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 of
itself. There's nothing to mind!"

Ingleborough watched him eagerly as he spoke, and seeing for himself
that there was only a feeble trickle of blood from the cut ear, he
pressed 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 practice
we can make if they come on."

"_If_ they come on!" said West bitterly. "Look for yourself; they're
already coming!"

Ingleborough turned his head sharply, to see that a line of galloping
men had just been launched from the Boer laager to the right and left,
and were streaming in single file down the slope, leaving ample room
between them for their dismounted companions to keep up a steady fire
upon the fugitives.

"That's their game, is it?" said Ingleborough, between his teeth. "Very
well, then, we must make a race of it and see what our picked ponies can
do."

"That's right!" cried West. "Let's open out a little!"

"Right, and give them less to aim at! The bullets are flying wildly
now. Ten yards apart will do."

They separated to about this distance, and at a word from West each
nipped his pony's flanks with his knees and rose a little in the
stirrups, with the result that the wiry little animals stretched out
greyhou