"Now," whispered Poeskop, after a pause of three minutes. They crept away, and after what seemed to Guy to be ages--so great was the strain--had reached the farther side of the fire. Guy looked across. Thebus lay as if sleeping, and Poeskop had so arranged Guy’s blanket that it seemed as if he, Guy, were still beneath it. They crept yet farther, and were beyond the light of the now fading fire. It was a warm night, and Guy, what with the labour of crawling and the intense nervous excitement, dripped with perspiration. Still farther they crept into the darkness, and then Poeskop, taking Guy by the hand, led him very softly round the camp towards the mouth of the kloof. They reached the inner end of the poort, now blocked with huge boulders, and began to climb as softly as they could. The Bushman pulled himself over the obstacles with the lightness and the noiselessness of a cat. Guy did his utmost to follow his example, but he was much heavier; and presently a boulder, becoming dislodged under his weight, fell with some little noise. Instantly there rose from the stillness of the camp, sixty yards away, the furious barking of wagon dogs. Men stirred about the wagons. "Quick!" cried Poeskop, in a hoarse whisper. "We must run!" They were quickly over the litter of rocks, and running down the gorge as fast as the semi-darkness would permit. The camp was astir; voices were heard calling to one another; they could even make out Karl Engelbrecht’s deep tones shouting commands. "Run, Baas Guy!" urged Poeskop, turning to his follower. "If Karl catches us we are dead men." They ran yet faster. They had a good start, and in fifteen minutes had reached the mouth of the gorge. Here, in a snug corner among some bush, Poeskop had fastened up his horse. It was a risk. If a lion or a leopard had come that way, the Bushman’s plans might have been easily overthrown. But the good nag was safe. Unfastening it in an instant, Poeskop led it out into the open. "Now, Baas Guy," he said, "jump up. I hear them following us. We have no time to waste." Guy needed no persuasion. He, too, had heard the voices of their pursuers; they could now even discern the beat of their footsteps. He sprang up. Poeskop leaped lightly behind him. "Ride for the light yonder," he whispered, pointing to a brilliant star right in front of them, low down towards the horizon. A kick from Poeskop’s bare heels, and away they went, the pony cantering along sturdily in the semi-darkness, despite the burden of a double load. "We shall be all right now," said Poeskop. "It will take them half an hour or more to pull down those boulders and make a passage for a horse; but we must push on. Karl Engelbrecht and the Portuguee will certainly ride after us, perhaps also some of their men. They will have blood for the Griqua--if they can. And here comes daylight; we have no time to spare."