CHAPTER TEN.
ANSON'S BLESSING.
"Bless 'em!" said Anson to himself that same evening, "I don't wish 'em any harm.

I only hope that before they've gone far the Boers will challenge them.
"I can almost see it now: getting dark, and an outpost challenges.
`Come on, gallop!' says old Ingle, and they stick their spurs into their nags and are off over the veldt.

Then _crack, cracky crack_, go the rifles till the saddles are emptied and two gallant defenders of Kimberley and brave despatch-riders lie kicking in the dust.
"Ugh! How.

I should like to be there with my flute.

I'd stand and look on till they'd given their last kick and stretched themselves out straight, and then I'd play the `Dead March' in `Saul' all over 'em both.