"It has nothing to do with water, sergeant, but with fire." "That all, sir? I see; I'm to stop till the detachment's well out of the way, and then fire the laager?" "No," said Dickenson; "that will be done before the men have marched. You are to stop with me and light the fuses." "To blow up the ammunition, sir? Well, I was wondering who was to do that." "It's a risky job, sergeant." "Pooh, sir! Nothing like advancing against a lot of hiding Boers waiting to pot you with their Mausers. Beg pardon, sir; who was Mauser?" "I don't know, sergeant. I suppose he was the man who invented the Boer rifles." "And a nice thing to be proud of, sir! I'm not a vicious sort of fellow, but I do feel sometimes as if I should like to see him set up as a mark, and a couple of score o' Boers busy trying how his invention worked." "Come along," said the lieutenant.--"Then you don't mind the job?" "Not I, sir. I always loved powder from a boy. Used to make little cannons out of big keys, filing the bottoms to make a touch-hole. I was a don at squibs and crackers; and the games we used to have laying trains and making blue devils! Ha! It was nice to be a boy!" "Yes, sergeant; and now we've got something big to do. But there, you're used to it. Remember getting away the powder-bags with Mr Lennox?" "Remember it, sir? Ha! But I was in a fright then." "Of being blown up?" "Well, sir, if you'll believe me, I never thought of myself at all. I was all in a stew for fear the powder should catch from the lantern and make an end of Mr Lennox." "I believe you," said Dickenson; and they stopped at the spot where the ambulance-wagons had trotted up, and the leader of the mounted escort had dropped from his panting horse to speak to the major. "Then you've done it, sir?" "Yes, as you see. What message from the colonel?" "Covering party advancing, sir, to help you in. You are to get all the provisions and cattle you can, and retire. But that I see you have done. Enemy near, sir?" The major glanced at the top of the kopje before replying, and then said briefly, "Not yet." CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. ANOTHER EXPLOSION. The wounded men--a couple of dozen all told, many of the injuries being only slight--were rapidly lifted into the light wagons while the horses and mules were given water, and all went well, the more slightly hurt cheering and joking their bearers, and making light of their injuries in the excitement of the triumph. "Mind my head, boys," said one; "it's been knocked crooked." "And my leg's loose, you clumsy beggar; it's there somewhere. Don't leave it behind." "I say, Joey, I've got a hole right through me; ain't it a lark!" "Here, you, sir! Take care; that's my best 'elmet. I want it for a piller." And so on, and so on. Only one man groaned dismally, and that was Corporal May. "I say, mate; got it as bad as that?" said one of the bearers. "Oh! worse--worse than that," moaned the corporal. "I'm a dead man."