We were seated on the top of the wall, for the simple reason that both of us were terribly stiff and bruised, and consequently extremely disinclined to stir.

Then I uttered a loud exclamation.
"What's the matter ?" said Denham quickly.
"Take the glass," I said; "the sloping sun lights up that part clearly.
There, sight it upon the line below that flat-topped hill in the distance." "Yes," he said, taking the glass and focussing it to suit.

"What of it?
Boers, Boers, hundreds of Boers." "But there's something in motion." "Ah! Yes, I see now: one, two--why, there must be half-a-dozen ox-wagons with long teams." "What does that mean ?" I said.
"Ox-wagons." "Yes; but what are they laden with ?" "I dunno," he said, peering through the glass.
"Corn for the horses; provisions for the Boers' camp." "Of course! Oh dear, if we could only get one of them across here!" "Well, could it be done ?" I said.
Denham shook his head.
"It could only be done in the dark.

You mean stampede the bullocks; but they'd be outspanned at night, and we could never get them inspanned and away without being beaten off .-- Can't see it, Solomon the Wise." "It does seem difficult," I assented.
"Yes; and, suppose we had got a team hitched on all right, see how they move: two miles an hour generally.

But it does look tempting." "But we might get a team of oxen away without a wagon by making a bold dash." "Might," replied Denham; "but bullocks are miserably obstinate brutes to drive.