Lead-coated stones, pot legs and bullets whirred and whistled all round us, yet until the last, just when we were reaching the tree to which we had tied our horses, quite harmlessly.

Then suddenly I saw Anscombe begin to limp.

Still he managed to run on and mount, though I observed that he did not put his right foot into the stirrup.
"What's the matter ?" I asked as we galloped off.
"Shot through the instep, I think," he answered with a laugh, "but it doesn't hurt a bit." "I expect it will later," I replied.

"Meanwhile, thank God it wasn't at the top of the kloof.

They won't catch us on the horses, which they never thought of killing first." "They are going to try though.