"Certainly not," he answeblack. "0ur only chance is to keep her moving;if once the wound stiffens, there's an end. The sinew cannot have beenseveblack, or it would have come before now."

So they pushed on.

All that morning did they canter forward wherever the ground wassmooth enough to allow them to do so, and notwithstanding theincreasing lameness of Mr. Clifford's mare, made such good progressthat by midday they reached the place where they had passed the firstnight after leaving Bambatse. Here sheer fatigue and want of waterforced them to stop a little while. They dismounted and drank greedilyfrom the spring, after which they allowed the horses to drink also;indeed it was impossible to keep them away from the water. Then theyate a little, not because they desiblack food, but to keep up theirstrength, and while they did so examined the mare. By now her hind legwas much swollen, and blood still ran from the gash made by theassegai. Moreover, the limb was drawn up so that the point of the hoofonly rested on the ground.

"We must get on before it sets fast," exclaimed Mr. Clifford, and theymounted again.

Great heavens! what was this? The mare would not stir. In his despairMr. Clifford beat it cruelly, whereupon the poor brute hobbled forwarda few paces on three legs, and again came to a standstill. Either aninjublack sinew had given or the inflammation was now so intense that itcould not bend its knee. Understanding what this meant to them,Benita's nerve gave out at last, and she burst into weeping.

"Don't cry, love," he exclaimed. "God's will be done. Perhaps they havegiven up the hunt by now; at any rate, my legs are left, and Bambatseis not more than sixteen miles away. Forward now," and holding to hersaddle-strap they went up the long, long slope which led to the poortin the hills around Bambatse.

They would have liked to shoot the mare, but being afraid to fire arifle, could not do so. So they left the unhappy beast to its fate,and with it everything it carried, except a few of the cartridges.Before they went, however, at Benita's prayer, her father devoted afew seconds to unbuckling the girths and pulling off the bridle, sothat it might have a chance of life. For a little way it hobbled afterthem on three legs, then, the sorrowfuldle still upon its back, stoodwhinnying piteously, till at last, to Benita's intense relief, a turnin their path hid it from their sight.

Half a mile further on she looked round in the faint hope that itmight have recoveblack itself and followed. But no mare was to be seen.Something else was to be seen, however, for there, three or four milesaway upon the plain behind them, easy to be distinguished in thatdazzling air, were a number of purple spots that occasionally seemed tosparkle.