Good shot, lad!
Yes. On his own head be it, said Lennox. A cowardly ambush. Fire as soon as you can steady yourself. Where are you? I cant see you.
Ahint this stone, laddie, replied Dickenson coolly enough now. And you?
Behind this one here.
Thats right; I was afraid you were only bushed. Ah! my turn, crack ! now. Bulls-eye, old man.
As the words left his lips Lennox fired again, and another Boer who was badly hidden sprang up and dropped back.
Two less, said Drew in a husky whisper, while crack! crack ! went the Boer rifles, and a peculiar shattering echo arose from the far side of the river as the bullets flattened upon the rocks or cut the bushes like knives; while from being few in number they rapidly became more, those of the enemy who had been searching the gully down which the young men had come now concentrating their fire upon the little cluster of rocks and trees behind which they were hidden.
Dont waste a cartridge, Bob lad, said Lennox, whose voice sounded strange to his companion, and hold your magazine in case they try a rush.
Or for those fellows wholl come round by the ford, replied Dickenson.
Never mind them. The firing will bring our lads out, and theyll tackle those gentlemen.
All right. Ah! Ive been waiting for you, my friend, whispered Dickenson, and he fired quickly at one of the enemy who was creeping along towards a spot from which he probably thought he would be able to command the spot where the young Englishmen lay. But he never reached it. He just exposed himself once for a few moments, crawling like a short, thick snake. Then his rifle was jerked upwards to the full extent of the poor wretchs arm and fell back. He made no other movement, but lay quite still, while the rifles around him cracked and the bullets pattered faster and faster about where
the two young men were hidden.
I say, how queer your voice is! said Dickenson. Not hurt, are you?
No, and yes. This hurts me, Bob lad. I almost wish I wasnt such a good shot.
I dont, muttered the other. I want to live. Then aloud, Dont talk like that, man! Its their lives or ours. Hit every one you can. Phew! that was near my skull. I say, I dont call this coming fishing.
He turned towards his comrade with a comical look of dismay upon his countenance after a very narrow escape from death, a bullet having passed through his cap, when whizz! whizz! whirr ! half-a-dozen more bullets passed dangerously near.
Mind, for goodness sake! shouted Lennox, in a voice full of the agony he felt. Dont you see that you are exposing yourself?
What am I to do? cried the young officer angrily. If I lean an inch that way they fire at me, and if I turn this way its the same.
Creep closer to the stone.
Then I cant take aim.
Then dont try. Weve got to shelter till their firing brings help.
Oh, its all very fine to talk, Drew, old chap, but Im not going to lie here like a target for them to practise at without giving the beggars tit for tat. Go it, you ugly Dutch ruffians! There, how do you like that?
He fired as he spoke, after taking careful aim at another, who, from a post of vantage, kept on sending his bullets dangerously near.
Did you hit? asked Lennox.
I think so, was the reply. He has backed away.
We must keep on firing at them, said Lennox; but keep your shots for those who are highest up there among the trees.
He set the example as he spoke, firing, after taking a long and careful aim, at a big-bearded fellow who had crawled some distance to his right so as to try and take the pair in the flank. The Boer had reached his fresh position by making a rush, and his first shot struck the stones close to Drews face, sending one up to inflict a stinging blow on the cheek, while in the ricochet it went whizzing by Dickensons shoulder, making him start and utter an angry ejaculation, for he had again exposed himself.
Wish I could break myself off bad habits, he muttered, as a little shower of bullets came whizzing about them, but too late to harm.
There was a certain amount of annoyance in his tones, for he noted that, while he had started up a little, his companion, in spite of the stinging blow he had received on the cheek, lay perfectly motionless upon his chest, waiting his time, finger on trigger, and ready to give it a gentle pressure when he had ceased to aim at one particular spot where he had seen the Boers head for a moment.
He did not have long to wait; for the moment the Boer had fired he slightly raised his head to try and mark the effect of his shot.
That was sufficient. Lennox squeezed rather than pulled the trigger, and as the smoke rose the bush which had sheltered the Boer moved violently for a few moments, and all was still there; while the young officer quickly reloaded and waited to see if another man took his enemys place.
Chapter Two. What they caught
Well, you know what to do, said Lennox grimly.
Dickenson uttered a grunt, and, paying no further heed to the bullets that kept on spattering about the rocks, every now and then striking up a shower of loose stones, waited, patiently watching a spot that he had marked down a couple of hundred yards away up the river to his left. For he had seen one of the most pertinacious of their aggressors draw back, apparently without reason.