Have ye ever ridden that horse before ?" "He has ridden it hundreds of times, ever since it was a foal," said my father quickly, for I felt choked.--"Stop, man," he added angrily; "your captain said my son was not to be bound." "Sure I didn't say a wurrud about his wrists, old man," cried the captain contemptuously.

"Ye want too much.

I've let him off about the ankles, and let him ride face forward, so be contint.

Make his wrists fast behind him." I was compelled to resign myself to my fate, and stood fighting hard to keep down all emotion while my wrists were secured firmly behind my back, the thin raw-hide cutting painfully into the flesh.
By this time Sandho was bridled and saddled, and just then my father turned to Bob.
"Take in those rifles, my boy," he said.
The captain turned sharply and gave my father a searching look; but he contented himself with nodding, and my brother snatched the rifles from where they lay across the Boer's knees, and rushed indoors with them.
I knew well enough why, poor fellow: it was to hide the tears struggling to rise, and of which he was ashamed.
Just then I had harder work than ever to control my own feelings, for Aunt Jenny hurried towards me, but was kept back by my captors; and I saw her go to my father and throw her arms about his neck, while he bent over her and seemed to be trying to whisper comfort.
"There, up with ye, me bhoy," cried the captain.

"Ye can't mount, though, with yer hands behind yer like a prishner .-- Lift him on, two of ye, like a sack." "That they shan't," I said between my teeth; and feeling now that what was to como was inevitable, I took a couple of steps to my horse's side.
"Stand!" I said aloud as I raised one foot to the stirrup; and Sandho stood as rigid as if of bronze, while I made a spring, raised myself up, and threw my leg over.
"Well done, bhoy!" cried the captain as I sank into the saddle.--"You, Hooger, take his rein.