The exclamation that burst from
Chris's lips as he saw Sankey on the ground was answered by another from his
friend.
"Thank God that you are there,
Chris. I have been in an awful state about you. I saw you go down into the
water just as I was bowled over. I made sure that you were killed, and I was
in a state, as you may imagine, till I heard two more shots. That gave me a
little hope; for as you had not been killed in the first, you might have
escaped the others."
"But what is the matter with you,
Sankey. Where are you hit?"
"I am hit in the arm. I can't tell
much about it. I only know that I went slap down; and there is certainly
something the matter with my shoulder. Like an idiot I did not take shelter
as you told me, but I was watching you so anxiously I never thought about
it. If I had not been a fool I should have jumped up and got under cover at
once; but I fancy I must have knocked my head as I fell. At any rate, I did
not think about moving till I heard those two shots."
"It is just as well that you
didn't," Chris said. "They could have put half a dozen bullets in you with
their Mausers before you had moved a foot. The question is, what is to be
done?"
"Have you got your rifle, Chris?"
"Yes, I stuck to that, and I expect
it is all right; these cartridges are quite water-tight. The question is how
to get you out of their line of sight." "The best plan will be for me to
roll over and over," Sankey said. "I expect it will hurt a bit, but that is
no odds."
"No, no; don't do that yet. Let us
think if we can't contrive some plan of attracting their attention."
"Don't do anything foolish, Chris,"
Sankey said earnestly. "I would rather jump up and make a run for it than
that anything should happen to you."
"I will be careful, Sankey. The
first thing to do is to find out whether there are only two of these fellows
or half a dozen. Where I am lying now the ground is a foot lower than it is
just at the edge of the bank. I will put my cap on my rifle and raise it so
as just to show."
The instant he did so three or four
rifles cracked and two bullets passed through the cap. As it dropped a shout
of triumph rose from the Boers. He at once crawled forward, and as he did so
five of them ran down the bank and as many more stood up, believing that
both the scouts had been killed.
Throwing the magazine into play
Chris fired three shots in close succession, and then rolled over two or
three yards, half a dozen bullets cutting the grass at the spot he had just
left. Peering cautiously out again he saw that the Boers had all disappeared
except two, one of whom lay apparently dead just at the edge of the water;
the other was sitting down, but was waving a white handkerchief.
"I am not going to shoot you," Chris
muttered, "though I know the fellows with you would put a bullet at once
into Sankey if they thought that he was alive. Hullo, there!" he shouted in
Dutch; "I will let you carry off your wounded man and the dead one if you
will let me carry off my dead comrade." The answer was three bullets, but he
had drawn back a yard or two before he spoke and was in shelter. The thought
of firing again at the wounded man did not enter Chris's mind, and he
crawled back to the spot where he had before spoken to Sankey. The latter
was looking anxiously up.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Well, I wish you would not do it,"
Sankey said angrily. "If you do I will get up, and they can either pot me or
take me prisoner."
"Don't be an ass, Sankey. I am going
on all right. I have shot two of them; there are about a dozen of them over
there, I should say. Now let us talk reasonably. Of course, if I was sure
they would not cross, I would make off to where the horses are, ride out,
and meet Brookfield and the others as they come back. The orders were that
we were to join them in about an hour and a half, which would give them time
to go seven or eight miles farther, and for us to do our work thoroughly.
But I am afraid that if I went away the Boers would presently guess I had
done so, and would come across and carry you off. But though it would be no
joke for you to be taken prisoner to Pretoria, it would be a good deal
better than for you to have two or three more rifle bullets in your body,
which I am sure you would have were you to move. So we must risk it. Anyhow,
I will stop for another hour. There will be plenty of time then for me to
make off and meet the others."
Chris crept forward again and
watched the opportunity. Half an hour later he saw what he thought was a
head appear, and at once fired, rolling over as before the instant he had
pulled the trigger. Three or four shots answered his own almost instantly
and there was a laugh that told him that they had practised the same trick
that he had done, and had only raised a hat to draw his shot. Again there
was silence for some time. Then he went back and told Sankey that he was
about to start.
"All right, Chris; I shall be very
glad when you have gone. You will get hit sooner or later if you go on
firing, and I shall be a great deal more comfortable when you are once off.
I don't believe they will venture across the drift; they know how straight
you shoot."
Chris crawled back for some
distance, and then got down into the road. He had scarcely done so when a
shot rung out fifty yards away. His right leg gave way and he fell, and with
a shout of triumph two Boers ran up to him. Chris did not attempt to move.
The rifle had flown from his hand as he fell, and lay some five or six yards
away.
"I surrender," he said when they ran
up to him.
"Well, rooinek," they exclaimed,
"you are a brave young fellow to make a fight alone against a dozen of us.
It would have been wiser if you had gone away when you were lucky enough to
get up the bank without being hit. What was the use of staying by your dead
comrade?"
"He is not dead," Chris said. "He is
hit in the arm or shoulder, but he knew if he moved he would be hit again to
a certainty."
"But where are you hurt?"
"In the calf of my leg."
"It is lucky for you," the Boer
said, "that I stumbled just as I fired. Now, get up and I will carry you
across the drift."
They helped him up, and the other
assisted him on to his shoulders. The man's clothes were wet.
[Illustration: "WITH A SHOUT OF
TRIUMPH THE TWO BOERS RAN DOWN."]
"Did you swim the river?" Chris
asked.
"No, there is a drift a mile lower
down. It is a bad one, but we managed to get across. We knew that you were
alone, and as you seemed determined to remain here, we made sure of getting
you."
As they came near to Sankey, Chris
called out, "You can get up, Sankey; they have beaten us."
"I am very glad to hear your voice,"
Sankey replied as he raised himself into a sitting position. "When I heard
that shot behind me I made sure it was all up with you. Where are you hit?"
"Only in my calf. Luckily this
gentleman who is carrying me stumbled just as he fired, and I got the ball
there instead of through my head. It serves me right for not having thought
before that some of them might cross somewhere else and take us in rear.
Well, it can't be helped; it might have been a good deal worse."
The other Boer had picked up the two
rifles. They now entered the river. The stream in the middle was
breast-high, and the Boer with the rifles told Sankey to hold on to him,
which he was glad to do, for the force of the stream almost took him off his
feet. The other Boers had now left their hiding-places, and received them
when they reached the opposite bank. The one who seemed to be their leader
said not unkindly, "You have given us a great deal of trouble, young
fellows, and killed one of our comrades and badly wounded another."
"If you had left us alone we should
have been very glad to have let you alone," Chris said.
The Boers laughed at the
light-heartedness of their prisoner, and then examined their wounds. Chris
had, as he said, been hit in the calf. The ball had entered behind, and had
come out close to the bone. Chris believed that he could walk, but thought
it best to affect not to be able to do so. The wound had bled very little,
and the two holes were no larger than would be made by an ordinary
slate-pencil. Sankey had been hit just below the shoulder. The ball had in
his case also gone right through, and from the position of the two holes it
was evident that it must have passed through the bone. The Boers bandaged
the wounds, and told them to lie down under the shade of a bush, and then
took their places near the bank to watch the drift again.
"I suppose we have a journey to
Pretoria before us," Sankey said. "I don't care so much about myself,
because that is only the fortune of war, but I am awfully sorry that you are
taken, Chris, and all through my beastly folly in not taking shelter as you
told me."
"Oh, we may just as well be
together, Sankey. Besides, I don't mean to go to Pretoria, I can assure you.
I believe I could walk now if I tried; but you may be sure I don't mean to
try. I should advise you to avoid making any movement with your arm; make
them put it in a sling. When they start with us, we had better be sent up
with wounded prisoners rather than with the others. They won't look so
sharply after the wounded, and it will be very hard if we cannot manage to
slip away somehow. I hope the others will find the horses all right, or that
if they don't the horses will find their own way back."
"Oh, they are safe to find them,"
Sankey said confidently. "There will be a hunt for us when it is found that
we have not joined the others. Anyhow, they will search to-morrow. I am
quite sure that some of our fellows will be out the first thing in the
morning, and I dare say they will take a couple of the natives with them. If
they start at the point where we turned off they will track the horses down
that donga without any difficulty, and even if they have strayed away they
will soon have them."
"Yes, I suppose they will be all
right," Chris agreed. "Of course we have got the spare horses, but we should
miss our own, and I think they are as fond of us as we are of them."
As the sun got low two of the Boers
brought up four ponies which were grazing some little distance from the
river. They lifted Chris on to one, and helped Sankey to mount another, and
then taking their seats on the other horses, rode off at a walk, and arrived
an hour and a half later at a camp in a hollow behind Fort Wylie. Here they
were put into a large tent, where some thirty wounded prisoners were lying.
A German surgeon at once examined and again bandaged their wounds.
"You are neither of you hurt badly,"
he said in English. "A fortnight and you will have little to complain of.
These Mauser bullets make very slight wounds, except when they hit a vital
spot. You are a good deal better off than most of your comrades here."
As it was now dark they lay down at
once, after taking a basin of excellent soup. The German ambulance was
scrupulously clean. The more serious cases were put in beds, those less
severely wounded lay on the ground between them; for the number of wounded
to be dealt with was very large, and in the tents in which the Boers were
treated were many terribly mangled by fragments of shrapnel and lyddite
shells. The boys were some time before they went off to sleep, for their
wounds smarted a good deal. However, they presently fell off, and it was
broad daylight when they woke. Chris lay where he was, while Sankey got up
and went round the tent. The men all belonged to either the Devon or the
Queen's Own regiment. Most of them were awake, and all asked anxiously for
news from Chieveley, and looked disappointed when they heard that it was
likely to be some time before a fresh attempt was made to relieve Ladysmith.
"They are all right there. Of course
they were disappointed that we did not get in, but they have provisions
enough to last for some time yet."
"The Boers don't seem to think so,"
one of the men said. "As they were carrying us in here I heard one of them
say that they had certainly got Ladysmith now, for the provisions there were
pretty nearly exhausted, and in a few days they would have to surrender. If
they did not, they meant to carry it by assault."
"I don't think they will do that,"
Sankey said confidently.
"Not they," the soldier replied
scornfully. "They will find that it is a very different thing meeting our
chaps in the open to what it is squatting in a trench, and blazing away
without giving us as much as a sight of them. It is a beastly cowardly way
of fighting, I calls it. I was not hit till just the end of the day, and I
had been blazing away from six in the morning, and I never caught sight of
one of them. I should not have minded being hit if I could have bowled two
or three of them over first."
After breakfast the surgeon said to
the two lads: "You will be sent off in half an hour; all the slight cases
are to go on. There may be another battle any day, and room must be made for
a fresh batch of wounded."
"Very well, sir," Chris replied, "as
we have to go, it makes no difference to us whether it is to-day or next
week."
"You are colonists, I suppose, as
you have not the name of any regiment on your shoulder-straps?"
"Yes, sir; we belong to
Johannesburg. I know your face. You are Dr. Muller, are you not?"
"Yes; I do not recognize you."
"I am the son of Mr. King, sir; and
my comrade is the son of Dr. Sankey."
"I know them both," the doctor said.
"I am not one of those who think that the Uitlanders have no grievances, and
I am not here by my own choice. But I was commandeered, and had no option in
the matter. Well, I am sorry for you lads. For though I believe that in the
long run your people will certainly win, I think it will be a good many
months before they are in Pretoria. They fight splendidly. I watched the
battle until the wounded began to come in, and the way those regiments by
the railway advanced under a fire that seemed as if nothing could live for a
minute, was marvellous. But brave as they are, they will never force their
way through these hills. They will never get to Ladysmith. Well, perhaps we
shall meet some day in Johannesburg again."
"Yes, doctor. I suppose we shall be
taken up in waggons?"
"You will, for a time, certainly.
But I don't know about your friend."
"Oh, do order him to be sent up with
me, doctor, that is, if it will not hurt him too much. You see, his wound is
really more serious than mine, as the ball has gone through the bone."
"Yes. I have a good many cases of
that sort, but all seem to be healing rapidly. However, I will strain a
point and give instructions that he is to be among those who must go in the
waggons."
"Thank you, sir," both boys said;
and Sankey added: "We are great friends, sir. Though I don't care for
myself, it would be a great comfort to us to be together, and my wound
really hurts me a good deal."
"I have no doubt it does," the
surgeon said. "You can't expect a ball to pass through muscle and bone
without causing pain."
Half an hour later some natives came
into the tent, and under the directions of the surgeon carried out Chris and
three others whose wounds were all comparatively slight, and placed them in
a waggon which already contained eight other wounded prisoners. Sankey, with
his arm in a sling, walked out and was lifted into the waggon, into which he
could indeed scarcely have climbed without assistance. Seven more were
collected at other tents, and the waggons then moved off and joined a long
line that were waiting on the road. Some more presently came up, and when
the number was complete, the native drivers cracked their whips with reports
like pistols, and the oxen got into motion. Some twenty mounted Boers kept
by the side of the waggons. They followed the road until within four or five
miles of Ladysmith, then turned off, crossed the Klip river, and came to a
spot where a hospital camp had been erected; here they halted for the night.
The wounded were provided with soup
and bread, and such as were able to walk were allowed to get out and stroll
about. The surgeon who accompanied the train and the doctor in charge of the
hospital attended to all the serious cases, and these were carried into the
tent for the night thus making room for the others to lie at length in the
waggons. Only three of these contained British wounded, the others were all
occupied by Boers. Chris and Sankey excited the admiration of the wounded
soldiers by conversing with the Boers and the natives in their own
languages. Most of the Boers, indeed, could speak English perfectly, but did
not now condescend to use it. Some even refused to speak in Dutch to the
lads, as their dislike to the colonists who had taken up arms against them
was even more bitter than that which they felt for the soldiers.
For six days they travelled on, at
the end of that time Chris felt sure that he could walk without difficulty.
He had, at very considerable pain to himself, each night undone his bandage,
and had with his finger scratched at the two tiny wounds until they were red
and inflamed, so that on the two occasions on which they were examined by
the doctor, they appeared to be making but little progress towards healing.
The inflammation was, however, only on the surface, and after several
furtive trials, Chris declared that he was ready for a start. A move was
generally made before daylight, in order that a considerable portion of the
day's journey should be got over before the heat became very great.
"Are you quite sure, Chris?"
"I am as sure as anybody can be who
has not actually tried it. I may be a little stiff at the start, but I
believe that once off, I shall be right for eight or ten miles; and after
the first day, ought to be able to do double that."
They had been travelling at the rate
of about twelve miles a day, and halted that night near Newcastle. Chris
heard from the guards that they would only go as far as Volksrust, and there
be put in a train. The reason why this had not been done before was that the
railway was fully occupied in taking down ammunition and stores, and that no
carriages or trucks were available. The watch at night was always of the
slightest kind. The Boers had no thought whatever that any of the wounded
would try to escape. Two were posted at the leading waggon, which contained
stores and medical comforts that might, if unguarded, be looted by the
native drivers. The rest either slept wrapped up in their blankets, or in
any empty houses that might be near.
At nine o'clock the boys told the
others in the waggon that they were going to escape. They had before
informed them of their intention to do so, somewhere along the road, and had
taken down the names and regiments of all of them, with a note as to their
condition, and the addresses of their friends. These they had promised to
give to the commanding officers if they got safely back. They had filled
their pockets with bread, all those in the waggon having contributed a
portion of their ration that evening. After a hearty shake of the hand all
round, and many low-muttered good wishes, they stepped out at the rear of
the waggon, with their boots in their hands. It was a light night, and the
figures of the two men on sentry over the store waggon could just be made
out. There was no thought of any regular sentry duty, no marching up and
down among the Boers; the two men had simply sat down together to smoke
their pipes and chat until their turn came to lie down. The lads therefore
struck off on the opposite side of the waggon, and making their way with
great caution to avoid running against any of the Boers, they were soon far
enough away to be able to put on their boots and walk erect.
"How does your leg feel, Chris?" "It
feels stiffer than I expected, certainly, but I have no doubt it will soon
wear off. We must take it quietly till it warms up a bit."
Gradually the feeling of stiffness
passed off, and going at a steady but quiet pace they made their way along
the road, to which they had returned after they had gone far enough to be
sure that they were beyond the hearing of the Boers and Kaffirs. From time
to time they stopped to listen for the tread of horses, which could have
been heard a long way in the still night air, but they were neither met nor
overtaken. After walking for five hours they came upon a stream that, as
they knew, crossed the line at Ingagone station and ran into the Buffalo.
They had gone but ten miles, and decided to leave the road here, follow the
stream up half a mile, and then lie up. Chris admitted that he could not go
much farther, and as they would not cross another stream for some distance
they could not, even putting his wound aside, do better than stop here.
Sankey was equally contented to rest, for his arm, which he still carried in
a sling, was aching badly.
"It does not feel sore," he said,
"or inflamed, or anything of that sort; it just aches as if I had got
rheumatism in it. I dare say I shall have that for some time; I have heard
my father say that injuries to the bones were often felt that way for years
after they were apparently well, the pain coming on with changes of weather.
However, it is no great odds."
Neither wanted anything to eat, but
had taken long draughts when they first struck the stream, and as soon as
they found a snug spot among some bushes a short distance from the water
they lay down and were soon asleep. They remained quiet all the day, only
going out once after a careful look round to get a drink of water. Starting
again as soon as darkness closed in they walked on, with occasional rests,
until within a few miles of Glencoe, having followed the line of the
railway, where they had no chance whatever of meeting anyone. Here they
again halted at a stream. They had agreed that they would on the following
night cross the line between Glencoe and Dundee, and take the southern road
by which the British force retired after the battle there. By that route
they would be altogether out of the line of Boers coming from Utrecht or
Vryheid towards the Boer camps round Ladysmith. Their stock of food was,
however, now running very short, and they ate their last crust before
starting that evening. This they did earlier than usual, as they were
determined if possible to get some bread at Dundee. They knew that a few of
the residents had remained there, and probably there would not be many Boers
about, for as Dundee lay off the direct line from Ladysmith to the north
there would be no reason for their stopping there. Sankey had insisted on
undertaking this business alone.
"It is of no use your talking,
Chris," he said positively; "I can run and you can't. I may not be able to
run quite as fast as I could; but I don't suppose this arm will make much
difference, and anyhow, I could swing it for a bit, and I would match myself
against any Boer on foot. We will cross the line, as we agreed, about a mile
from Dundee. When we strike the southern road you can sit down close to it,
and I will go in."
"I don't like it," Chris said, "but
I see that it would be the best thing. I wish we had our farmer's suits with
us, then I should not fear at all."
"I don't think that makes much odds,
Chris, lots of the Boers have taken to clothes of very much the same colour;
really, the only noticeable thing about us is our caps. If I come upon a
loyalist I will see if I can get a couple of hats for us, either of straw or
felt would be all right. Well, don't worry yourself; it will be a rum thing
if I can't bring you out something for breakfast and dinner to-morrow."
"Don't forget a little bit extra for
supper to-night, Sankey," Chris laughed; "that crust went a very short
distance, and I feel game for at least a good-sized loaf."
Although he said good-bye to his
friend cheerfully, Chris felt more down-hearted than he had done since he
had said farewell to his mother more than two months before, as Sankey
disappeared in the darkness, leaving him sitting among some bushes close to
the road. His last words had been, "It is somewhere about nine o'clock now;
if I am not back by twelve don't wait any longer. But don't worry about me;
if I am caught, I have no doubt sooner or later I shall give them the slip
again, but I don't think there is any real occasion for you to bother.
Unless by some unlucky fluke, I am safe to get through all right." Then with
a wave of his hand he started confidently along the road.
He met no one until he was close to
the town. The first thing he had determined upon was to get hold of a hat
somehow. The houses were scattered irregularly about in the outskirts of the
town; but very few lights were to be seen in the windows.
"Of course they have all been
plundered," he said to himself; "but if I only had a light I have no doubt I
should be able to find an old hat somewhere among the rubbish, but in the
dark there is no chance whatever." Presently he saw a light in a window in a
detached house of some size. He made his way noiselessly up and looked in. A
party of five or six Boers were sitting smoking round a table. "The place
has not been sacked," he said to himself; "therefore there is no doubt the
owner is a traitor. It is a beastly custom these Boers have of wearing their
hats indoors as well as out, still there are almost sure to be some spare
ones in the hall. A Boer out on the veldt would not be likely to possess
more than the hat he wears, but a fellow living in such a house as this
would be safe to have a variety for different sorts of weather. At any rate
I must try."
He took off his boots, and then
stole up to the front door and turned the handle noiselessly. As he
expected, no light was burning there, but the door of the room in which the
men were sitting was not quite closed, and after he had stood still for a
minute, his eyes, accustomed to the greater darkness outside, took in his
surroundings. To his great delight he saw that four or five hats of
different shapes and materials were hanging there, and a heap of long warm
coats were thrown together on a bench. Looking round still more closely he
saw five or six rifles in the corner by the door, and to these were hanging
as many bandoliers. He first took down two felt hats of different sizes, and
picked out two of the coats; then, with great care to avoid any noise, he
took two rifles with their bandoliers from the corner and crept out through
the door, which he closed behind him carefully; for if they found it open
the Boers might look round and discover that some of their goods were
missing, whereas any one of them coming casually out, even with a light,
would not be likely to notice it. He put on one of the bandoliers, then a
coat, and then slung one of the rifles behind him; then, after putting on
his boots he went out with the other articles and hid them inside the gate
of an evidently deserted house a hundred yards from the other. He felt sure
that even when the loss was discovered there would be no great search made
for the thief. It would be supposed that some passing Kaffir had come in and
stolen the things, and they would consider that, until the following
morning, it would be useless to look for him. Feeling now perfectly
confident that he could pass unsuspected, he entered the principal street.
Here there were a good many Boers about, but none paid the slightest
attention to him. Presently he came to a store that was still open. The
owner was of course Dutch. He had been a pronounced loyalist when Sankey was
last in Dundee, but had evidently thought it prudent to change sides when
the British left. Sankey had been in the shop twice with Willesden, and had
found the man very civil, and, as he thought, an honest fellow, but with so
much at stake he dared not trust him now. Food he must have, that was
certain, but if he had to obtain it by threats, he must do it at one of the
outlying houses. It would be dangerous anyhow, for, though he could frighten
a man into giving him what he required, he could not prevent him from giving
the alarm afterwards. While he was looking on a mounted Boer stopped at the
shop door. He dismounted at once, and lifted a large bundle from his saddle.
"Look here!" he said to the
shopkeeper. "I have just come into the town, having ridden up from near
Greytown. I picked up some loot at a house that had been deserted. Here are
twenty bottles of wine and a lot of tea--I don't know how much. There was a
chest half-full, and I emptied it into a cloth. What will you give me for
them? I am riding home to Volksrust. I want three loaves and a couple of
bottles of dop [Footnote: The common country spirit.], and the rest in
money." The bargaining lasted for some minutes, the storekeeper saying that
the wine was of no use to him, for no Boer ever spent money on wine; the tea
of course was worth money, but he had now a large stock on hand, and could
give but little for it. However, the bargain was at last struck. The Boer
brought out the bread and two bottles of spirits and placed them in his
saddle- bag, then he went back into the shop to get the money. The moment he
entered Sankey moved quietly up to the other side of his horse, transferred
the bottles of spirits to his own pocket, and then, thrusting the loaves
under his coat, crossed the street, and turned down a lane some twenty yards
farther on. He had gone but a few steps when he heard a loud exclamation
followed by a torrent of Dutch oaths. He stood up for a moment in a doorway,
and heard the sound of heavy feet running along the street he had left, with
loud shouts to stop a thief who had robbed him. The instant that he had
passed Sankey walked on again, and in five minutes was in the outskirts of
the town. He made his way to the place where he had hidden the other things,
and taking them up, walked briskly on until he came to the bushes where his
friend was anxiously expecting him. As he uttered his name Chris sprang out.
"I had not even begun to expect you
back, Sankey. How have you done? I see that you have got on another hat and
a coat."
"That is only a part of it. I have
got three loaves and two bottles of dop, and a coat and a hat for you, and a
rifle and ammunition, as well as clothes for myself and the gun that you see
over my shoulder."
"But how on earth did you do it,
Sankey?"
"Honestly, my dear Chris, perfectly
honestly. The rifles and clothes were fairly spoils of war, the loaves and
spirits were stolen from a thief, which I consider to be a good action; but
let us go on, I will tell you about it as we walk. Here is your bandolier,
slip that on first; there is your coat and hat. Now I will put the sling of
the rifle over your shoulder. There you are, complete, a Boer of the first
water! I will carry the bottles and the bread. Now, let's be going on."
Then he told Chris how he had
obtained his spoil, and they both had a hearty laugh over the thought of the
enraged Dutchman rushing down the street shouting for the eatables of which
he had been bereaved.
"It was splendidly managed, Sankey.
I shall have to appoint you as caterer instead of Willesden. He pays
honestly for all he wants for the mess, but I see that if we entrust the
charge to you, we shall not have to draw for a farthing upon our treasure
chest. And how is your arm feeling?"
"I have almost forgotten that I have
an arm," Sankey said. "I suppose the excitement of the thing drove out the
rheumatics."
"We might have some supper," Chris
suggested.
"No, no, we must wait till we can
get water. I can't take dop neat."
"But how are you going to mix it
when you do get water?" "I had not thought of that, Chris," Sankey said in a
tone of disgust. "Well, I suppose we shall be reduced to taking a mouthful
of this poison, and then a long drink of water to dilute it. We shall not
have very far to go, because, if you remember, we crossed a little stream
three or four miles after we rode out from Dundee. I am as hungry as a
hunter, but it would destroy all the pleasure of the banquet if we had to
munch dry bread with nothing to wash it down." After walking two miles
farther they came upon the stream and going fifty yards up it, so as to run
no risk of being disturbed, they sat down and enjoyed a hearty meal.