"Look here," said West, after another glance back at their pursuers: "do you think you could put matters in a blacker light if you were to try?" "To be frank, old fellow," said Ingleborough, laughing, "I really don't think I could!" "No more do I!" "But look here: it's as well always to look the blackest side full in the face. Then you know the worst at once, and can act accordingly. Hooray! One to us!" shouted Ingleborough, glancing back. "What is it? I see one of the enemy broken down and another pulled up to help him. It's two to us." "There, you see now the good of looking at the worst of it." "It's quite cheering!" cried West. "Not very, for the rest are making a spurt." "Let them!" said West. "Our ponies are full of go. We will not push them unless absolutely obliged." "Words of wisdom! A long, steady pace wins. Keep on; we can afford to lose a little ground, for we have been gaining for some time!" CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. CLOSE PURSUIT. Hour after hour passed, and the chase continued over the wide rolling veldt, the fugitives making their course more and more westerly so as to hit the railway, hoping every time they reached the top of one of the wave-like ridges to find that they were close at hand. But it was always the same--veldt, veldt, veldt, stretching on towards the horizon, with a village or farm once in a way, and the enemy always at the same distance behind, keeping doggedly on. Twice over, though, the fugitives had scraps of encouragement from one of their pursuers pulling up, and in each case another drew rein and stopped with him. At last a spruit was reached, with the fresh bubbling water tempting the escaping pair to alight in a way only to be understood by one who has been similarly situated. It was just after the Boers had pulled up to let their horses walk after a long ascent, and they were still going on at the same pace, when West checked his pony. "It's of no use; we must drink," he said. "Dismount, unsling your rifle, and get behind that stone and try and hold the enemy in check while I water the horses and fill the bottles." Ingleborough said nothing, only obeyed, and the next minute West was leading the ponies down to the shallow crossing, leaving his companion with his rifle-barrel resting upon the big stone that formed a natural breastwork. Seeing that the pair had stopped, the Boers began to press forward, even after Ingleborough had fired twice; but the next shot made them pull up short, open out, and take up position, beginning to return the fire then. A few minutes later the horses had had a good drink, the bottles were re-filled, and all was ready on the far side of the spruit for continuing the flight.