"Hadn't we better keep on ?" "Yes, we must chance it," was the reply.

"No one can see us twenty yards away." "And we ought to make the most of the darkness." "Hist!" whispered Ingleborough, and his companion sat fast, listening to the movements of a mounted man who was evidently proceeding cautiously across their front from left to right.

Then the dull sound of hoofs ceased--went on again--ceased once more for a time, so long that West felt that their inimical neighbour must have stolen away, leaving the coast quite clear.
He was about to say so to Ingleborough, but fortunately waited a little longer, and then started, for there was the impatient stamp of a horse, followed by a sound that suggested the angry jerking of a rein, for the animal plunged and was checked again.
As far as the listeners could make out, a mounted man was not forty yards away, and the perspiration stood out in great drops upon West's brow as he waited for the discovery which he felt must be made.

For a movement on the part of either of the ponies, or a check of the rein to keep them from stretching down their necks to graze, would have been enough.

But they remained abnormally still, and at last, to the satisfaction and relief of both, the Boer vedette moved off at a trot, leaving the pair of listeners once more free to breathe.
"That was a narrow escape!" said West, as soon as their late companion was fairly out of hearing.
"Yes.