his
right, to fire his fourth shot almost without aiming. As the smoke
cleared away by the time the young officer had replaced the exploded
cartridges, one pony could be seen struggling on the ground, another was
galloping away, while two men were crawling backward on hands and knees.

"It seems like butchery, sergeant," said Dickenson, taking another long
aim before firing again. "Missed!"

"No, sir: I saw the pony start," said the sergeant eagerly. "There,
look at him!"

For the two men cheered on seeing the pony limp for a few yards and then
fall, just beyond where his master was lying stretched out on his face.

"Poor brute!" said Dickenson in a low voice.

"He didn't say it was butchery when that chap was knocking down our
mounts at quarter this distance," said the sergeant to himself. "But,
my word, he can shoot! I shouldn't like to change places with the Boers
when he's behind a rifle."

Just then the men cheered, for three more of the enemy who had been
stalking them were seen to spring into the saddle, lie flat down over
their willing mounts, and gallop away as hard as they could to join
their comrades.

"Well, we've stopped that game for the present, sergeant," said
Dickenson. "Perhaps we may be able to keep them off till night.--But
that's a long way off," he said to himself, "and we've to fight against
this scorching heat and the hunger and thirst."

"Hope so, sir," said the sergeant, in response to what he had heard;
"but--"

He ceased speaking, and pointed in the direction of the patch of scrub
forest where they had passed the night.

Dickenson shaded his eyes and uttered an ejaculation. Then after
another long glance: "Ten--twenty--thirty," he said, as he watched two
lines of mounted men cantering out from behind the patch right and left.
"Why, there must be quite thirty more."

"I should say forty of 'em, sir."

"Why, sergeant, they're moving out to surround us."

"Yes, sir," said the sergeant coolly; "but you won't surrender?"

"Not while the cartridges last."

"Well, there's enough to account for the lot, sir, if we hand in ours
and you do the firing."

The young officer burst into a forced laugh.

"Why, sergeant," he cried, "what do you take me for?"

"Soldier of the Queen, sir, ready to show the enemy that our march at
the Jubilee wasn't all meant for show."

Dickenson was silent for a time.

"Ha!" he said at last, with a sigh. "I want to prove that; but there
are t