less, for they had a fair share of the provisions of their masters, and
were in a high state of contentment with their prospects.

There was a halt of an hour at Ladysmith. Many of the officers and
soldiers gathered at the station, their work for the day finished, and
the arrival of the train being always an event of some importance in the
little town. They were amused and interested at the party of young
fellows who alighted to stretch their legs and get a change of position.

"Which is your leader?" a major asked Field.

"The one talking to an officer. His name is Chris King."

"Is he chosen because he is the oldest of you?"

"No, that has nothing to do with it. We are all within a year of the
same age. We have all been chums and friends, and have hunted and shot
together, and he is the one we elected as our leader, just as you would
choose the captain of a cricket club. We all come from Johannesburg,
find our own horses, arms, and outfits, and ask nothing whatever from
the government; and as we speak Dutch, and all know more or less Kaffir,
we fancy we can make a good deal better scouts than your cavalry, who
can't ask a question of a Boer or get information from a native."

The major laughed. He saw that the lad a little resented the joking tone
in which he had asked the question.

"I have no doubt that you are right," he said, "and I am quite sure I
should like half a dozen of you as subalterns. When did you come from
Johannesburg?"