"Fainted," I said, dismounting painfully. "Who has a water-bottle?" One was produced directly, and I was busily bathing the poor fellow's face and trying to trickle a little water between his lips, when we became painfully aware of the fact that we had moved out from cover, for _spat, spat, spat_, three bullets struck stones near us, making it evident that we were well in view, and that the Boers were making targets of the different members of the group. This was remedied directly; but in spite of the shaking he received in being moved to the rear of the biggest stone, Denham did not open his eyes, but lay there perfectly insensible; while, to add to our difficulties, one of our men, who had retaken their places in cover, to be ready to reply to the fire if a favourable opportunity presented itself, announced that the enemy was steadily advancing down the pass, and evidently with the intention of clearing it of the party of cavalry which had entered between its barren walls. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. REALITIES OF WAR. I glanced round at the little group of men, every face wearing the same serious aspect; then I lowered my eyes to continue my task of trying to restore Denham to his senses, while the moments glided by, and many shots were fired at our position; yet there was no change in the officer's condition. "He isn't dead--is he?" said one of the troopers. "Dead? No!" I cried angrily; but even as I spoke a chill of horror ran through me, for the utterly inanimate state of my new friend suggested that the shock of the blow might have been fatal. "But he doesn't seem to have a spark of life in him, poor chap!" "He'll recover soon," I said as firmly as I could, and determined to put the best face upon the matter. "But we can't wait for `soon,'" cried another man impatiently. "In less than a quarter of an hour the Doppers will be down upon us, and then it's either a bullet apiece or prisoners." "We must carry him down to where the Colonel is with the rest of the troopers," I said. "No, no. Set him on a horse." "He can't possibly sit a horse," I said firmly; "and if you put him on one it will take two men to keep him in his place." "We can't spare them," cried the first man who had spoken. "We want all our rifles to be speaking as we retire." Just then a thought struck me. "He must be carried," I said. "It can't be done, sir," was the reply. "The men can't be spared. One of us must have him in front of the saddle as we retreat." "No, no," I said. "Here, wait a minute.--Joeboy!" I shouted, and, shield and assagai in hand, the black dashed to my side as if to defend me from some attack. "Can you carry this officer on your back down the valley, Joeboy?" I said. "Um!" was the prompt reply. "You take my spears." "Yes. Hang them to my saddle," I said. "Quick!"