through the instep, I think,” he answered with a laugh, “but it doesn’t hurt a bit.”
“I expect it will later,” I replied. “Meanwhile, thank God it wasn’t at the top of the kloof. They won’t catch us on the horses, which they never thought of killing first.”
“They are going to try though. Look behind you.”
I looked and saw twenty or thirty men emerging from the mouth of the kloof in pursuit.
“No time to stop to get those horns,” he said with a sigh.
“No,” I answered, “unless you are particularly anxious to say good-bye to the world pinned over a broken ant-heap in the sun, or something pleasant of the sort.”
Then we rode on in silence, I thinking what a fool I had been first to allow myself to be overruled by Anscombe and cross the river, and secondly not to have taken warning from that war-horn. We could not go very fast because of the difficult and swampy nature of the ground; also the great heat of the day told on the horses. Thus it came about that when we reached the ford we were not more than ten minutes ahead of our active pursuers, good runners every one of them, and accustomed to the country. I suppose that they had orders to kill or capture us at any cost, for instead of giving up the chase, as I hoped they would, they stuck to us in surprising fashion.
We splashed through the river, and luckily on the further bank were met by Footsack who had seen us coming and guessed that something was wrong.
“Inspan!” I shouted to him, “and be quick about it if you want to see tomorrow’s light. The Basutos are after us.”
Off he went like a shot, his face quite green with fear.
“Now,” I said to Anscombe, as we let our horses take a drink for which they were mad, “we have got to hold this ford until the wagon is ready, or those devils will get us after all. Dismount and I’ll tie up the horses.”
He did so with some difficulty, and at my suggestion, while I made the beasts fast, cut the lace of his boot which was full of blood, and soaked his wounded foot, that I had no time to examine, in the cool water. These things done, I helped him to the rear of a thorn tree which was thick enough to shield most of his body, and took my own stand behind a similar thorn at a distance of a few paces.
Presently the Basutos appeared, trotting along close together whereon Anscombe, who was seated behind the tree, fired both barrels of his Express at them at a range of about two hundred yards. It was a foolish thing to do, first because he missed them clean, for he had over-estimated the range and the bullets went above their heads, and secondly because it caused them to scatter and made them careful, whereas had they come on in a lump we could have taught them a lesson. However I said nothing, as I knew that reproaches would only make him nervous. Down went those scoundrels on to their hands and knees and, taking cover behind stones and bushes on the further bank, began to fire at us, for they were all armed with guns of one sort and another, and there was only about a hundred yards of water between us. As they effected this manoeuvre I am glad to say I was able to get two of them, while Anscombe, I think, wounded another.
After this our position grew quite warm, for as I have said the thorn trunks were not very broad, and three or four of the natives, who had probably been hunters, were by no means bad shots, though the rest of them fired wildly. Anscombe, in poking his head round the tree to shoot, had his hat knocked off by a bullet, while a slug went through the lappet of my coat. Then a worse thing happened. Either by chance or design Anscombe’s horse was struck in the neck and fell struggling, whereon my beast, growing frightened, broke its riem and galloped to the wagon. That is where I ought to have left them at first, only I thought that we might need them to make a bolt on, or to carry Anscombe if he could not walk.
Quite a long while went by before, glancing behind me, I saw that the oxen that had been grazing at a little distance had at length arrived and were being inspanned in furious haste. The Basutos saw it also, and fearing lest we should escape, determined to try to end the business. Suddenly they leapt from their cover, and with more courage than I should have expected of them, rushed into the river, proposing to storm us, which, to speak truth, I think they would have done had I not been a fairly quick shot.
As it was, finding that they were losing too heavily from our fire, they retreated in a hurry, leaving their dead behind them, and even a wounded man who was clinging to a rock. He, poor wretch, was in mortal terror lest we should shoot him again, which I had not the heart to do, although as his leg was shattered above the knee by an Express bullet, it might have been true kindness. Again and again he called out for mercy, saying that he only attacked us because his chief, who had been warned of our coming “by the White Man,” ordered him to take our guns and cattle.
“What white man?” I shouted. “Speak or I shoot.”
There was no answer, for at this moment he fainted from loss of blood and vanished beneath the water. Then another Basuto, I suppose he was their captain, but do not know for he was hidden in some bushes, called out—
“Do not think that you shall escape, White Men. There are many more of our people coming, and we will kill you in the night when you cannot see to shoot us.”
At this moment, too, Footsack shouted that the wagon was inspanned and ready. Now I hesitated what to do. If we made for the wagon, which must be very slowly because of Anscombe’s wounded foot, we had to cross seventy or eighty yards of rising ground almost devoid of cover. If, on the other hand, we stayed where we were till nightfall a shot might catch one of us, or other Basutos might arrive and rush us. There was also a third possibility, that our terrified servants might trek off and leave us in order to save their own lives, which verily I believe they would have done, not being of Zulu blood. I put the problem to Anscombe, who shook his head and looked at his foot. Then he produced a lucky penny which he carried in his pocket and said—
“Let us invoke the Fates. Heads we run like heroes; tails we stay here like heroes,” and he spun the penny, while I stared at him open-mouthed and not without admiration.
Never, I thought to myself, had this primitive method of cutting a gordian knot been resorted to in such strange and urgent circumstances.
“Heads it is!” he said coolly. “Now, my boy, do you run and I’ll crawl after you. If I don’t arrive, you know my people’s address, and I bequeath to you all my African belongings in memory of a most pleasant trip.”
“Don’t play the fool,” I replied sternly. “Come, put your right arm round my neck and hop on your left leg as you never hopped before.”
Then we started, and really our transit was quite lively, for all those Basutos began what for them was rapid firing. I think, however, that their best shots must have fallen, for not a bullet touched us, although before we got out of their range one or two went very near.
“There,” said Anscombe, as a last amazing hop brought him to the wagon rail, “there, you see how wise it is give Providence a chance sometimes.”
“In the shape of a lucky penny,” I grumbled as I hoisted him up.
“Certainly, for why should not Providence inhabit a penny as much as it does any other mundane thing? Oh, my dear Quatermain, have you never been taught to look to the pence and let the rest take care of itself?”
“Stop talking rubbish and look to your foot, for the wagon is starting,” I replied.
Then
