and if the hold had not been
tightened he would have sunk to the ground.

"Got him?" cried Dickenson.

"Yes, sir; all right. Fainted."

"Fainted?"

"Yes, sir. Regular exhaustion, I suppose. We'll get him into the
saddle, and I think the best way will be for me to got up behind and
hold him on, for he's regularly given up now that he has fallen among
friends."

"But the pony: will it carry you both?"

"Oh yes, sir--at a walk. They're plucky little beasts, sir. But we've
got him, sir, and that's what I didn't expect. I suppose we mustn't
cheer?"

"Cheer? No," said Dickenson excitedly. "Look here, sergeant; I'm a bit
crippled, but I'll have him in front of me."

"But he's on my pony now, sir, with the lads holding him. Had we better
drag him down again? He's precious limp, sir; and I'm afraid he's hurt
worse than he said."

"Very well; keep as you are," said Dickenson hurriedly; and, almost
unseen, the sergeant mounted behind his charge and began to feel about
him for the best way of making the poor fellow as comfortable as
possible.

"He's got his sword all right, sir, but his revolver's gone. Stop a
moment," continued the sergeant, fumbling in the darkness; "there's the
lanyard, but his hat's gone too. There, I've got him nicely now.
Mount, my lads."

There was a rustling sound as the men sprang into their saddles again.

"Ready?" said Dickenson.

"Yes, sir."

"Stop a moment. How are we to find our way back?"

"We shall have to trust to the ponies, sir," said the sergeant. "Let's
see; we have turned their heads round over this job. We must leave it
to them; they'll find their way back, thinking they're going to get some
more mealies. Trust them for that."

"Forward at a walk!" said Dickenson. "Tut, tut, sergeant! It's as
black as pitch. If a breeze would only spring up."

"Dessay it will, sir, before long."

"How does Mr Lennox seem?"

"Head's resting on my clasped hands, sir, and he's sleeping like a
baby--regular fagged out."

It was a slow and toilsome march; but the party were in the highest of
spirits, and, in the hope of seeing the lights at Groenfontein at the
end of an hour or so, they kept on, only pausing now and again to listen
for danger and to rearrange Lennox, whose silence began to alarm his
friend. But the sergeant assured him that the poor fellow was sleeping
heavily, and they went on again with a dark mental cloud coming over
Dickenson's exhilaration as h