lie any closer, old man. Skin seems to be growing to the rock as it is.”
Crack!
There was another shot, the puff of smoke rising from close alongside the former one which Dickenson had seen.
“I say,” he cried, “which of us are they firing at?”
“Both, I expect,” said Lennox. “They’re sheltered by the same rock; one fires from one side, the other from the second. I can’t touch them. Try at once.”
“Don’t you hurry me, or I shall muff it, old man,” said Dickenson coolly. “I want a better chance. There’s nothing but a bit of wideawake to fire at now.—Ha! Lie still. He’s reaching out to fire at me, I think.”
Dickenson’s rifle spurted, and their enemy’s was like an echo; but the muzzle of the Boer’s piece was suddenly jerked upward, and the bullet had an opportunity of proving how far a Mauser rifle would carry with a high trajectory.
“Thanks, old fellow,” said Lennox. “That has halved the risk. Perhaps the other fellow will think it too dangerous to stay.”
“Doesn’t seem like it,” said Dickenson, drawing in his breath sharply and clapping his left hand to his ear.
“Don’t say you’re hit, Bob!” cried Lennox in an agonised tone.
“All right; I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
“But are you?”
“I suppose so. There’s a bit taken out of my left ear, and I can feel something trickling down inside my collar.”
“Oh Bob, old fellow!” cried Lennox.
“Lie still, man! What are you going to do?”
“Bind up the place.”
“You won’t if you stir.”
There was pretty good proof of this, for another shot whizzed between them. But he who sent it had been too venturesome in taking aim to revenge his comrade’s fall, and the result of Dickenson’s return shot was fatal, for he too sprang up into a kneeling posture, and they saw him for a few moments trying to rise to his feet, but only to fall over to the left, right in view of the two officers.
Drew uttered a sigh of relief.
“If we are to escape,” he said, “we must stop any one from getting into that position again.”
“Look sharp, then,” said Dickenson, whose keen eyes detected a movement on the other side of the river. “There’s a chap creeping among the bushes on all fours.”
“I see him,” cried Drew; and as he followed the enemy’s movements and took aim, Dickenson, who was in the better position for commanding them, followed his example.
“Missed!” cried Drew angrily as he fired and the Boer raised a hand and waved it derisively.
“Hit!” exclaimed Dickenson the next instant. For he too had fired, and with better aim, the Boer drawing himself together, springing up, and turning to run, but only to stagger the next minute and fall heavily among the bushes, which hid him from sight.
“Now for the next,” continued Dickenson, coolly reloading. “Look out; I’m going to watch the other end.”
He turned sharply as a fresh shower of bullets came scattering around them, and looked keenly at the granite rock and its burden, half-expecting to see a fresh occupant taking aim. But apparently no one seemed disposed to expose himself anew to the rifles of such deadly shots, and the terrible peril to which the two fishermen had been exposed ceased for the time being, though the pair waited in momentary expectation of its recurrence.
But the enemy did not slacken their efforts to finish their task by easier means, and the firing from the front went on more briskly than ever, the young officers contenting themselves with holding theirs and displaying no excitement now, their shelter, so long as they lay close, being sufficient, the worst befalling them now being a sharp rap from a scrap of stone struck from the rocks, or the fall of a half-flattened bullet.
“That’s right; don’t fire until we are in an emergency,” said Drew at the end of a few minutes.
“In a what?” cried Dickenson.
“In regular peril.”
“Why, what do you call this?” cried Dickenson, with a laugh. “I made my will half-an-hour ago—in fancy, of course.”
“Well, it is a hot corner,” said Drew, joining in his companion’s grim mirth; “but we haven’t got to the worst of it yet.”
“What!” yelled Dickenson. “Oh Drew, old man, you are about the coolest fish in the regiment. It can’t be worse than it has been.”
“Can’t it? Wait a few minutes, and the party who made for the ford will be at us.”
“But they can’t get their horses down the way we came.”
“No; but they can leave them with a fourth of their fellows to hold while they get somewhere within shot, and then we’re done. What do you say to tying a handkerchief to a rifle-barrel and holding it up? We’ve held out well.”
“Nothing! What do you say?”
“Same as you do; but I thought I’d give you the option if you did not feel as obstinate as I do.”
“Obstinate? I don’t call it obstinate to hold out now. I’ve seen too many of our poor lads carried to the rear. Here,” continued the speaker, after feeling, “I haven’t used half my cartridges yet. Ask me again when they’re all gone, and then I’ll tell you the idea I’ve got.”
“What is it? Tell me now.”
“Very well. We’ll fire the last cartridge at the cowardly brutes—fifty at least to two—and then give them a surprise.”
“What! walk out and hold up your hands?”
“No; that would be a surprise, of course; but I’ve got a better.”
“Let’s have it.”
“Walk in.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, crawl, then, into the river. Get quietly in from behind some of the overhanging bushes, and float down with the stream.”
“Wouldn’t do, Bobby; they wouldn’t trust us. They’d see us floating.”
“They’d think we were dead.”
“Not they. The Boers are too slim, as they call it, and would pump a few bullets into us. Besides, I have no fancy for being dragged down by a crocodile or grabbed by a hippo.”
“Think there are any crocs?”
“Plenty
