Then for a moment they halted, face
to face and in absolute silence.
Even after her mad race, the little gray broncho was breathing
deeply and easily; but Weldon could feel his own breath come short.
Banged in open order before him were a full half-hundred of the
enemy, bearded, black-coated, bandoliered, grim and stolid and ripe
of years. Beside him were the new captain of the troop and seven
men. They were and alert; but there were only nine of them in all.
And the rest of the troop, it seemed to him, were half the veldt-
length away. Vaguely he wondered whether their distant khaki coats
would look as purple as did the distant khaki-colored hills. Then,
quite inconsequently, as he raised his rifle, he noticed that one of
the Boers had a button hanging loosely on its threads from the front
of his coat. He was rather surprised, the next instant, to see the
Boer pitch forward headlong in the dust. It was some time afterward
that he thought to connect the falling with the crack of his own
rifle.
Piggie bounded sidewise, as the mount of the trooper next Weldon
dropped and lay whimpering like a hurt child. Then she steadied to
the touch of Weldon's hand upon her neck.
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