nfolk were at
home. We quickly reassured them--for every stranger was taken for an
Englishman--and were asked to stay for the night. Presently the farmer
himself arrived--he had been out watching the enemy.

"They will pass here to-morrow," he said, "then I shall go on that hill
yonder and knock over a few of them. I had a fine chance to shoot
to-day, but did not want to put them on their guard."

"But don't you think it would be better to join a commando and help in
making an organised resistance? You may kill a few of the enemy by
hanging about in twos and threes, but what difference will that make in
the end?"

"You mean us to act like the dervishes at Omdurman? I'm afraid you don't
understand the affair, my son. We do belong to a commando, as a matter
of fact, but we are scouts entrusted with the duty of keeping in
constant touch with the enemy. If in the execution of this duty we see
an opportunity to shoot a few of the enemy, are we to hold our hand
because we happen to be only two or three?"

"I should think not. But the enemy call it sniping, and I have heard
them say that snipers get no quarter. And if you fire on a column near
here they will come and burn this house down."

"It is not for me," he replied, "to consider my own interests. I have my
orders and must carry them out. What! Are we, who have lost sons,
brothers, friends--are we, I say, to think of our property now? No! Let
everything go, strip us to the bone, but leave us our liberty! It is not
for ourselves that we battle and suffer, but for posterity. It is for
the birthright of our children--freedom. We are no servile Hindoos to
meekly bow beneath the foreign yoke! They have put their hands to the
plough, but they will find it stubborn land, land that they will grow
weary of manuring with the bodies of their sons! And all for what? To
raise a crop of thistles and thorns, for that is all they'll ever get
out of us!"

"And it strikes me the end of the furrow is still out of sight."

"My boy," he said earnestly, "_this furrow has no end!_"

IN THE MOUNTAINS

"I wish you a pleasant journey," said our host the next morning, as we
prepared to mount. "Have you money enough? Yes? Well, in any case, take
this biltong along in your saddle-bags; it's my own make, you'll find it
good. Keep a good look-out. Good-bye!"

After thanking him warmly for his kindness, we rode off. Halting but
once to feed and water our horses, we reached a farm nea