Another horseman turned in his course, assisted the horseless rider to his own brown steed, and the two were borne rapidly through the storm of bullets towards the kopje.

Another horse was killed when he had carried his rider almost to the goal of safety, and the Boer was compelled to traverse the remainder of the distance on foot.

Apparently all the burghers had escaped across the plain, and their field-cornet was preparing to lead them to another position when a solitary horseman, a mere speck of black against a background of brown, lifeless grass, issued from a rocky ravine below the kopje occupied by the enemy, and plunged into the open space.

Lee-Metfords cracked and cut open the ground around him, but the rider bent forward and seemed to become a part of his horse.

Every rod of progress seemed to multiply the fountains of dust near him; every leap of his horse seemed necessarily his last.