Part 30 (2/2)

At the moment a shout was heard in another direction. Turning round, they observed a body of a dozen or so of mounted Kafirs making straight towards them. To have killed two or four of these would have been easy enough to first-rate shots armed with double-barrels, but they knew that those unhurt would continue the chase. They therefore turned and fled in the direction of their own home. Their steeds were good and fresh, but their pursuers were evidently well mounted, for they did not seem to lose ground.

In the kitchen of Conrad Marais's homestead Gertie stood that day, busily employed in the construction of a plum-pudding, with which she meant to regale Hans and Charlie on their return. And very pretty and happy did Gertie look, with her white ap.r.o.n and her dark hair looped up in careless braids, and her face flushed with exertion, and her pretty round arms bared to the dimpled elbows and scarcely capable of being rendered whiter by the flour with which they were covered.

A young Hottentot Venus of indescribable ugliness a.s.sisted in r.e.t.a.r.ding her.

”The master will be here soon,” said Gertie, wiping the flour and pieces of dough off her hands; ”we must be quick. Is the pot ready?”

Venus responded with a ”Ja,” and a grin which displayed a splendid casket of pearls.

Just then the clatter of hoofs was heard.

”Why, here they come already, and in _such_ a hurry too!” said Gertie in surprise, untying her ap.r.o.n hastily.

Before the ap.r.o.n was untied, however, Hans had pulled up at the door and shouted ”Gertie!” in a voice so tremendous that his wife turned pale and came quickly to the door.

”Oh, Hans! what--”

”Come, darling, quick!”

There was no time for more. Hans held out his hand. Gertie took it mechanically.

”Your foot on my toe. Quick!”

Gertie did as she was bid, and felt herself swung to the saddle in front of her husband, who held her in his strong right arm, while in the grasp of his huge left hand he held the reins and an a.s.sagai.

Poor Gertie had time, in that brief moment, to note that Charlie Considine sat motionless on his panting horse, gazing sternly towards the karroo, and that a cloud of dust was sweeping over the plain towards them. She guessed too surely what it was, but said not a word, while her husband leaped his horse through a gap in the garden wall in order to reach the road by a short cut. Double-weighted thus, the horse did not run so well as before. Considine was frequently obliged to check his pace and look back.

The stern frown on the Dutchman's brow had now mingled with it a slightly troubled look.

”Go on. I'll follow immediately,” said Considine as he reined in.

”Don't be foolhardy,” cried Hans, with an anxious look as he shot past.

Without replying, Considine dismounted, knelt on a slight eminence on the plain, and deliberately prepared to fire.

The pursuing savages observed the act, and when within about six or seven hundred yards began to draw rein.

Charlie Considine knew his rifle well; although not sighted for such a range, it was capable of carrying the distance when sufficiently elevated, and practice had accustomed him to long-range shots. He aimed a little above the head of the foremost rider, fired, and killed his horse. With the second barrel he wounded one of the Kafirs. At the same moment he observed that his late home was wrapped in flames, and that the cattle and sheep of Conrad Marais, which had been left in charge of Hans, were being driven off by the savages towards the mountains.

This was enough. Remounting, Charlie followed his friend, and was rejoiced to find on looking back that the Kafirs had ceased their pursuit.

”Strange,” he said on overtaking Hans, ”that they should have given in so easily.”

”It is not fear that influences them,” returned his friend, with deeply knitted brows; ”the reptiles know there is a pa.s.s before us, and they will surely try to cut us off. They know all the short cuts better than I do. Push on!”

Urging their horses to their utmost speed, the fugitives soon approached a more broken country, and skirted the mountain range, through which the pa.s.s referred to by Hans led into level ground beyond. It was a narrow track through jungle, which was dense in some places, open in others.

They were soon in it, riding furiously. At one of the open s.p.a.ces they caught a glimpse of a mounted Kafir making towards a part of the pa.s.s in advance of them. Hans pulled up at once, and looked eagerly, anxiously round, while he pressed the light form of Gertie tighter to his breast.

”We must fight here, Charlie,” he said, as he made for a little mound which was crowned with a few bushes. ”If you and I were alone we might risk forcing a pa.s.sage, but--come; they observe our intention.”

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