the enemy's wounded, for there
will be an awful explosion."

"Oh, they'll be all right, sir. Make 'em jump, perhaps, and think
they're going to be swept away."

"I wish they were farther off," said Dickenson; and then he uttered an
ejaculation as he started aside, an example followed by the sergeant,
who chuckled a little as he exclaimed:

"Wish 'em farther off, sir? So do I."

For, following directly one after the other, two shots were fired from
the shelter where the wounded Boers had been carefully laid in safety, a
couple of them having evidently retained their rifles, laying them under
cover till they could find an opportunity to use them.

"That's nice and friendly, James," said Dickenson coolly. "Forward!--
under cover."

"I feel ashamed to run, sir," said the sergeant fiercely.

"Look sharp!" cried Dickenson, for two more bullets whistled by them.
"I don't like bolting, but it seems too bad to be shot down by the men
we have been getting into safety."

"And fidgeted about, sir," said the sergeant grimly. "I wish you'd give
me orders to chance it and go back and give those blackguards one apiece
with their own rifles. It must have been them the captain meant when he
was letting go about cowards and curs."

"Very likely, poor fellow!" said Dickenson, marching coolly on till they
were covered from the Boers' fire. "There, they may fire away now to
their hearts' content," he continued, as he halted at the end of the
prepared wagons. "Wind's just right--eh?"

"Beautiful, sir; and as soon as the blaze begins to make it hot you'll
find the breeze'll grow stiffer. It's a great pity, though."

"Yes; I wish we had all this at Groenfontein."

"So do I, sir; but wishing's no good. I meant, though, it's a pity it
isn't dark. We should have a splendid blaze."

"We shall have a splendid cloud of black smoke, sergeant," said
Dickenson, taking out his box of matches. "Ready?"

"Ready, sir," replied the sergeant, and each held his match-box as low
down in the paraffin-barrel as the saturated hay would permit, struck a
match, and had to drop it at once and start back, for there was a flash
of the evaporating gas, followed by a puff of brownish-black,
evil-odoured smoke, which floated upward directly.

"Bah! Horrible!" cried Dickenson, coughing. "My word, sergeant!
there's not much doubt about the Boers' camp blazing."

"Serve 'em right, sir, for using such nasty, common, dangerous paraffin.
Here co