"But think of yourself, sir," said the sergeant.

"A man in my position can't think of himself, sergeant."

"Well, think of us, sir."

"I shall, sergeant."

"Ha!" cried the sergeant, in a tone full of exultation. "And think of
your friend, sir. He wants help as bad as that chap, and you ought to
think of him first."

For just then they heard Lennox talking hurriedly, and on Dickenson
looking back over his shoulder he could see his comrade's hands moving
in the air, as if he were preparing to struggle up.

Dickenson began to turn hurriedly to creep back to where Lennox lay,
with one of the ponies grazing calmly enough close by, when the hands
fell again, and the young officer lay perfectly still.

"He has dropped to sleep again, and may be quiet for an hour. Sergeant,
I'm going to crawl out to that wounded Boer."

"Very well, sir; you're my officer, and my duty is to obey. I'm very
sorry, Mr Dickenson. It's a good two hundred yards, sir, and I believe
it's a bit of slimmery. He crawled there to be out of shot."

_Whiz-z-z! crack_! A puff of smoke and then a rush of hoofs, for the
pony which had been grazing so calmly close by where Lennox lay went
tearing over the veldt for about fifty yards, when, with two of its
companions trotting after it as if to see what was the matter, it
pitched suddenly upon its head, rolled over with its legs kicking as if
it were galloping in the air, and then they fell and all was over, the
two others turning and trotting back, to begin grazing once again.

"That's bad," said Dickenson sadly. "We couldn't spare that pony. Why,
sergeant, they can shoot! I didn't think they could have done it at
this range."

"What! not at two hundred yards, sir?"

"Two hundred, man? It's a thousand."

"Why, you don't see it, sir," cried the sergeant excitedly. "It wasn't
the enemy out yonder sent that bullet home."

"Not the enemy out there?" cried Dickenson.

"No, sir. It was your dead man who fired that shot."

"What?"

"Don't feel so sorry for him, sir, do you, now?"

As the sergeant was asking this question, the soldier who lay off to
their left, and who had not discharged his piece for some time, fired
simultaneously with a shot which came from the direction where the
wounded Boer lay.

"Ah!" cried the sergeant excitedly. "Can you see him from there?"

"No," growled the man; "but I saw something move, and let go on the
chance of hitting him, but only cut up the san