These words drove all the heroic thoughts out of my brain, and I tried to look back to see how near our pursuers were; but I could not turn my head round, but only listen to the shouts, while _crack, crack, crack_ came the reports of rifles--badly aimed by the mounted men, who fired from the saddle, holding their weapons pistol-wise--the bullets from which went whizzing and buzzing past our ears. "It's all over," I thought, and a deep sense of depression was coming on at the thought of the Colonel falling wounded and a prisoner into the Boers' hands; but the depression was only momentary, being chased away by a wild feeling of excitement as I thought I had misjudged the gallant lads of the Light Horse. For as soon as they had pulled themselves together, under command of their remaining officers, and had discovered the loss of their chief, in response to our Major's orders they drew rein and divided into two squadrons, which swung round into line, with a short distance between them, and gallantly charged down upon our pursuers. They were none too soon. I remember feeling a strange choking sensation as, with a wild cheer, they swept round us, and, sword in hand, rode over and cut down those of the enemy who stopped to face them, the majority taking flight. Then our men came thundering back, seeming to sweep us up and carry us along with them, while the Boers in our rear and on both sides began to fire at our hurrying troopers. I was nearly breathless, and must have dropped but for the Colonel's strong grasp; and I was curiously giddy till I heard his voice just above me give the word for the men to halt. His orders were echoed by the troop-leaders, who and the racing retreat was checked. "Bring one of those horses here for me," shouted the Colonel; and I now noticed that just ahead were half-a-dozen of the brave beasts whose saddles had been emptied but had kept their places in retreat, charge, and retreat again. "That's right," cried the Colonel as he released my belt, so that I stood, hardly able to keep my feet as, with swimming eyes, I saw him stagger forward and mount the fresh charger, though evidently experiencing great suffering. "Now then, my lad--Moray--what's your name?--mount." His words seemed to galvanise and bring me back to a knowledge of my position, while Sandho helped to rouse me by turning and coming close up. I hardly know how I did it, but I managed to climb into the saddle, and from that moment, as we cantered away together, with the bullets whizzing after us, the terrible burning sensation of exhaustion from which I suffered began to die out, and the throbbing of my brain steadied down. "What are we going to do now, Denham?" I said at last, as, gazing straight ahead, I leaned over a little towards the left. "Eh? Denham?" said a voice. "I'm not--" "Ah!" I cried excitedly; "don't, say the Lieutenant's down!"