"Let's have another sharp gallop and get well among the rocks: it will be riding out of range and getting more in advance before they mount again." "Right, general!" cried Ingleborough banteringly; and once more they tore over the veldt, pursued only by the bullets, for the following Boers had dismounted to a man.
"Keep a little wider," said West, laughing outright at his companion's word "general." "Don't let's give them a chance by riding so close together!" "Right! Fine manoeuvre!" replied Ingleborough; and they went on towards the kopje at full speed, both feeling a wild kind of exhilaration as the wind rushed by their cheeks, and the plucky little horses stretched out more and more as if enjoying the race as much as their riders.
Strange terms "exhilaration" and "enjoying," but none the less true.
For there was no feeling of dread, even though the bullets kept on whizzing by them to right, to left, in front, far behind; now high overhead, and more often striking up the dust and ricochetting into space, to fall neither knew where.

Every leaden messenger, it it reached its mark, meant a wound; many would have resulted in death had they struck the fugitives.

But the excitement made the rush one wild gratification, combined with a kind of certainty that they would escape scot-free; and they laughed aloud, shouting words of encouragement to their ponies and cries of defiance and derision at the unsuccessful riflemen.
"Why, we could do better ourselves, Noll!" cried Ingleborough.

"So these are your puffed-up Boers whom writers have put in their books and praised so effusively! My word, what a lot of gammon has been written about rifle-shooting! I believe that Cooper's Deerslayer with his old-fashioned rifle was a duffer after all, and the wonderful shots of the trappers all bluff." "Perhaps so!" shouted West, rather breathlessly; "but these fellows can shoot!" "Not a bit!" "Well, my ear has stopped bleeding; but it smarts as if someone was trying to saw into the edge." "Never mind; it's only gristle!" said Ingleborough.
"I don't mind, but if the Boer who fired that bullet had only held his rifle a hair's breadth more to the left the scrap of lead would have gone into my skull." "Of course; but then he did not hold his rifle a hair's breadth more to the left.

By jingo!" "What's the matter ?" "Don't quite know yet.