CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
FALSE ALARMS.
The bottom and surroundings of the eminence afforded plenty of cover, and the fugitives pushed on in and out among dense patches of low growth, and, leading their sure-footed little ponies, they climbed over and around piles and masses of stone that would have been difficulties even to mules, while twice over West scaled a slope so as to carefully look down and backward at the enemy.
This he was able to do unseen, and came down again to report that the patrol was still making for the kopje as if for rest, but that their movements were too careless and deliberate for those of an enemy in pursuit.
The far side of the pile of granite and ironstone was reached in safety, placing the fugitives about a quarter of a mile from the Boers in a direct line, but quite a mile of intricate climbing if measured by the distance round; and they paused in a green patch full of refreshing beauty, being a wide ravine stretching up into the height, and with a bubbling stream of water running outward and inviting the ponies at once to take their fill.
"This settles it at once!" said Ingleborough, letting his bridle fall upon his mount's neck.
"Yes; we can go well in yonder, leading the ponies along the bed of the stream.

There is plenty of cover to hide half a regiment." "Of Boers," said Ingleborough shortly.

"It will not do for us." "Why ?" said West, staring.

"We can hide there till they have gone." "My dear boy," said Ingleborough; "can't you see?
The beggars evidently know this place, and are making for it on account of the water.

We saw none on the other side." "Very well," said West sharply; "let's ride off, and keep the hill between us and them." "Too late!" said Ingleborough.