I drew my breath hard as I looked at the long lines of slowly plodding oxen and then in the direction of our rescuers, who must have seen we were pursued, for they were galloping.

Then, to my horror, Joeboy turned to me and nodded, after gazing back.
"Um ?" he said in a long, slow, murmuring way, "'nother lot o' Doppie coming.

Big lot." I darted a look at our comrades, who came sweeping along over the veldt; but they were still far distant, and we seemed to be creeping along more slowly than ever.
"Not enough; not enough," I thought; but I wasted no time in regret.
There were fully fifty friends, all good horsemen and able shots, coming to our help; so I need not despair.

Thinking of what would be the best tactics under the circumstances, there seemed to be two ways open to us: for the troop to fall in on either side of the last wagon, and keep up a running fight; or, if the Boer party proved too strong, the six wagons could be drawn up laager-wise and turned into a temporary fort, with the bullocks outside, our men firing, till help came, from behind an improvised shelter formed by the sacks of grain and meal.
Then I reasoned despairingly that the Boers would send forward troop after troop to recover, the wagons.

"If they can," I now muttered through my teeth.