He at once crawled forward, and as he did so five of them ran
down the bank and as many more stood up, believing that both the scouts
had been killed.
Throwing the magazine into play Chris fired three shots in close
succession, and then rolled over two or three yards, half a dozen
bullets cutting the grass at the spot he had just left. Peering
cautiously out again he saw that the Boers had all disappeared except
two, one of whom lay apparently dead just at the edge of the water; the
other was sitting down, but was waving a white handkerchief.
"I am not going to shoot you," Chris muttered, "though I know the
fellows with you would put a bullet at once into Sankey if they thought
that he was alive. Hullo, there!" he shouted in Dutch; "I will let you
carry off your wounded man and the dead one if you will let me carry off
my dead comrade." The answer was three bullets, but he had drawn back a
yard or two before he spoke and was in shelter. The thought of firing
again at the wounded man did not enter Chris's mind, and he crawled back
to the spot where he had before spoken to Sankey. The latter was looking
anxiously up.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Well, I wish you would not do it," Sankey said angrily.
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