We splashed through the river, and luckily on the further bank were met by Footsack who had seen us coming and guessed that something was wrong.

“Inspan!” I shouted to him, “and be quick about it if you want to see tomorrow’s light.  The Basutos are after us.”

Off he went like a shot, his face quite green with fear.

“Now,” I said to Anscombe, as we let our horses take a drink for which they were mad, “we have got to hold this ford until the wagon is ready, or those devils will get us after all.  Dismount and I’ll tie up the horses.”

He did so with some difficulty, and at my suggestion, while I made the beasts fast, cut the lace of his boot which was full of blood, and soaked his wounded foot, that I had no time to examine, in the cool water.  These things done, I helped him to the rear of a thorn tree which was thick enough to shield most of his body, and took my own stand behind a similar thorn at a distance of a few paces.

Presently the Basutos appeared, trotting along close together whereon Anscombe, who was seated behind the tree, fired both barrels of his Express at them at a range of about two hundred yards.  It was a foolish thing to do, first because he missed them clean, for he had over-estimated the range and the bullets went above their heads, and secondly because it caused them to scatter and made them careful, whereas had they come on in a lump we could have taught them a lesson.  However I said nothing, as I knew that reproaches would only make him nervous.  Down went those scoundrels on to their hands and knees and, taking cover behind stones and bushes on the further bank, began to fire at us, for they were all armed with guns of one sort and another, and there was only about a hundred yards of water between us.  As they effected this manoeuvre I am glad to say I was able to get two of them, while Anscombe, I think, wounded another.

After this our position grew quite warm, for as I have said the thorn trunks were not very broad, and three or four of the natives, who had probably been hunters, were by no means bad shots, though the rest of them fired wildly.  Anscombe, in poking his head round the tree to shoot, had his hat knocked off by a bullet, while a slug went through the lappet of my coat.  Then a worse thing happened.  Either by chance or design Anscombe’s horse was struck in the neck and fell struggling, whereon my beast, growing frightened, broke its riem and galloped to the wagon.  That is where I ought to have left them at first, only I thought that we might need them to make a bolt on, or to carry Anscombe if he could not walk.

Quite a long while went by before, glancing behind me, I saw that the oxen that had been grazing at a little distance had at length arrived and were being inspanned in furious haste.  The Basutos saw it also, and fearing lest we should escape, determined to try to end the business.  Suddenly they leapt from their cover, and with more courage than I should have expected of them, rushed into the river, proposing to storm us, which, to speak truth, I think they would have done had I not been a fairly quick shot.