"Bah! It's all bluff!" cried a voice. "They know that by holding out
they can get what they want. They'd cave in directly if we showed a
bold front."

"Moral," said West; "show a bold front."

"That's what we're doing," said one of the men; "but there's too much of
it. Some of the officers have war on the brain, and want to force the
soldiering element to the very front. We've done enough to show the
Doppers that we should fight if there was any occasion. There was no
drilling going on when you were at Pretoria, eh, Ingleborough?"

"Yes, there was, a good deal," said the young man slowly. "They did not
make any fuss, but in a quiet way they were hard at work, especially
with their gun drill."

"Gun drill!" cried one of the group contemptuously. "What, with a few
rusty old cannon and some wooden quakers?"

There was a roar of laughter at this, and West coloured a little more
deeply with annoyance, but Ingleborough shrugged his shoulders, turned
his little finger into a tobacco-stopper, and went on smoking.

"The Boers are puffed-up with conceit," he said gravely, "and they
believe that their victory at Majuba Hill has made them invincible; but
all the same they've got some level-headed men amongst them, and I
believe before long that it will come to a fight and that they will
fight desperately."

His hearers laughed.

"What for?" shouted one.

"To drive the British out of South Africa, seize Cape Colony and Natal,
and make the country a Dutch republic."

There was a momentary silence before someone cried: "I say,
Ingleborough, are you going mad?"

"I hope not," said the young man quietly. "Why?"

"Because you are talking the greatest bosh I've heard for months!"

"I don't think I am," said Ingleborough gravely. "I know that the Boers
are terribly inflated with vanity and belief in themselves, but they
have wisdom in their heads as well."

"I've never seen any of it!" said the previous speaker. "Bah! Rubbish!
They drive us out of South Africa! Why, that would mean taking
Rhodesia too."

"Of course," replied Ingleborough, "and that's what they believe they
are going to do."

"With popguns?"

"No," said Ingleborough gravely; "but with their rifles. Do you know
that they can at any time arm a hundred thousand men with the best
magazine-rifles in the world?"

"No!" came in chorus. "We don't."

"And that they have a magnificent force of artillery, which includes
such guns as would dwar