CHAPTER TWENTY.
WHAT PEOPLE THINK BRAVE.
The Colonel was coming up, and it was quite time, for day was breaking fast, and the black darkness which had been our friend during the night was gradually dying away.
There was but one thing to be done: to select the best direction for making our dash; and, glass in hand, the Colonel stood near us, carefully scanning the country round.

We who were waiting did the same, and saw the distant hills which seemed to turn the broad plain which had been the scene of our night's encounter into a vast amphitheatre.

It was too dark yet to make out much of the enemy's position; but right away to our left, and not many miles distant, was the heavy-looking mass of the great kopje and the ancient buildings we had left.
For some time we sat waiting, with the grey dawn broadening, and at last I could clearly make out bodies of the mounted Boers in nearly every direction; while, as I still scanned the distance, I gradually grew less surprised that we were evidently so thoroughly hemmed in, for the plain seemed to be alive with the enemy, though the nearest party must have been about half a mile off.

Still there was no movement on the part of the enemy towards us, as doubtless, in the dim morning light, our dust-coloured jackets and broad-brimmed felts caused us to be mistaken for some of their own people.
However, it was only a few minutes before a change took place.

The Colonel had made up his mind, and the horses' heads were turned for the open country, where there was a gap in the hills; and away we went at a steady walk, orders being given for the corps to break up its regular military order and ride scattered in a crowd, after the fashion of our enemies.