"Why, what do you call this?" cried Dickenson, with a laugh. "I made my will half-an-hour ago--in fancy, of course." "Well, it is a hot corner," said Drew, joining in his companion's grim mirth; "but we haven't got to the worst of it yet." "What!" yelled Dickenson. "Oh Drew, old man, you are about the coolest fish in the regiment. It can't be worse than it has been." "Can't it? Wait a few minutes, and the party who made for the ford will be at us." "But they can't get their horses down the way we came." "No; but they can leave them with a fourth of their fellows to hold while they get somewhere within shot, and then we're done. What do you say to tying a handkerchief to a rifle-barrel and holding it up? We've held out well." "Nothing! What do you say?" "Same as you do; but I thought I'd give you the option if you did not feel as obstinate as I do." "Obstinate? I don't call it obstinate to hold out now. I've seen too many of our poor lads carried to the rear. Here," continued the speaker, after feeling, "I haven't used half my cartridges yet. Ask me again when they're all gone, and then I'll tell you the idea I've got." "What is it? Tell me now." "Very well. We'll fire the last cartridge at the cowardly brutes--fifty at least to two--and then give them a surprise." "What! walk out and hold up your hands?" "No; that would be a surprise, of course; but I've got a better." "Let's have it." "Walk in." "What do you mean?" "Well, crawl, then, into the river. Get quietly in from behind some of the overhanging bushes, and float down with the stream." "Wouldn't do, Bobby; they wouldn't trust us. They'd see us floating." "They'd think we were dead." "Not they. The Boers are too slim, as they call it, and would pump a few bullets into us. Besides, I have no fancy for being dragged down by a crocodile or grabbed by a hippo." "Think there are any crocs?" "Plenty in some of the rivers." "But the hippos, wouldn't touch us, would they?" "Very likely. They don't hesitate about seizing a canoe and crunching it in two. No, your plan won't do, lad. I'd rather die ashore here." "Dry?" said Dickenson quietly. "Well, I dare say it would be nicer. But there, we're not quite cornered yet." _Crack_ went a bullet overhead, and a report came from a fresh direction almost simultaneously. "Wrong!" said Drew coolly. "We are cornered now. That's the first shot from the men who have crossed to our side." "All right; I'm ready for them. Let's finish our cartridges." "We will, Bob," said Drew quite calmly, in spite of their extremity. "What do you want?" said Dickenson. "You haven't used all your cartridges?" "No; only about half." "Then why did you hold out your hand?" "Shake! In case," said Drew laconically. "Sha'n't! I'm not going to look upon the business as having come to that pitch yet. Look out; we ought to see some of them soon."