Hemmed in by vastly superior numbers, the English were calmly and
stubbornly resisting every inch of advance and selling their lives as
dearly as possible. Their leader fell pierced by a hundred bullets,
and the king, who had known him from boyhood, passed his hand across
his eyes as if to shut out the awful sight. But the fascination of
the battle forced him to look again, and the next moment he cried aloud:
"Look there! Look there!"
Over the edge of a line of hills appeared the helmets of a file of
English soldiers. They reached the summit, followed by rank after
rank, until the hillside was alive with them. And then, with a ringing
cheer that came like a faint echo to the ears of the three watchers,
they broke into a run and dashed forward to the rescue of their brave
comrades. The Boers faltered, gave back, and the next moment fled
precipitately, while the exhausted survivors of the courageous band
fell sobbing into the arms of their rescuers.
Rob closed the lid of the Record with a sudden snap that betrayed his
deep feeling, and the king pretended to cough behind his handkerchief
and stealthily wiped his eyes.
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