Dickenson said no more, but returned to his old place, watching the galloping Boers, who had now gone far enough to carry out their plans, and were stopping by twos to dismount and wait, this being continued till the little English party formed the centre of a very wide circle. Then a signal was made from the starting-point, and firing commenced. Fortunately for the party it was at a tremendously long-range, for, after the way in which the enemy had suffered in regard to their ponies, they elected to keep what they considered to be outside the reach of the British rifles; and no reply was made, Dickenson declining to try and hit the poor beasts which formed the Boer shelter in a way which would only inflict a painful wound without disabling them from their masters' service. "It would be waste of our cartridges, sergeant," he said. "Yes, sir," was the reply; "perhaps it's best to wait. They'll be tempted into getting closer after a bit. Getting tired of it if they don't hit us, and make us put up a white flag for the doctor. Look at them. Oh, it's nonsense firing at such a distance. Their rifles carry right enough, but it's all guesswork; they can't take an aim." The sergeant was right enough; but the bullets were dangerous, and they came now pretty rapidly from all round, striking with a vicious _phit_! which was terribly straining to the nerves. And all the time the heat of the sun grew more painful. There was not a breath of air; and the pull's of smoke when the enemy fired looked dim and distant, as if seen through a haze. The sergeant made some allusion to the fact. "Looks as if there was a change coming. There, sir, you can hardly see that man and horse." "No," said Dickenson sadly, "but I think it's from the state of our eyes. I feel giddy, and mine are quite dim." "Perhaps it is that, sir," said the sergeant. "Things look quite muddled up to me. Now turn a little and look yonder, out Groenfontein way." Dickenson turned wearily, and winced, for three bullets came almost simultaneously, two with their vicious _whiz-z_! the other to cut up the ground and ricochet. "Not hit, sir?" said the sergeant anxiously. "No; but one shot was very near. Yes, I see what you mean: the Boers are mounting out in that direction. They're coming closer. We shall perhaps have a chance now," he cried, with more animation. It seemed, though, that they were going to retire as they came, the circle being opened on the Groenfontein side and the men retiring in twos, to go on increasing in two groups, firing rapidly the while; but, to the surprise of the beleaguered party, the bullets ceased to whiz in their direction. A dead silence fell upon the group, no one daring to speak the hope that was in him for fear of exciting his companions by an idea that might after all prove only to be imagination. Then all spoke together, and there was an excited cheer. "Yes," cried Dickenson; "there's help coming. The Boers are retiring fast."