THREE HELIOS. 
43 
for between him and the supposititious 
enemy ; then he made a break for it, and 
reached the hollow behind the kopje at the 
run. 
“ Brave man ! ” said Copeland, with a 
sneer, and one of the five-and-twenty 
laughed. 
The rest glanced from one to the other 
and said nothing ; they were scouts, not 
humorists. Copeland stood up and watched 
the skyline for five minutes through his 
glasses, sweeping it slowly from left to 
right. 
“ There’s nothing there,” he said, with 
an air of conviction. “ Forward, to that 
kopje in front. We shall get a better view 
from there, and then I’ll decide what to do 
next.” 
u Begging your pardon, sir ” said a 
sergeant, a twelve-year, two-medal man. 
“ Hold your tongue,” commanded Cope- 
land. “ I’m in command here.” 
The scouts glanced at each other again, 
but they had to obey his order, and they 
advanced in a body across the open to the 
kopje. 
They had nearly reached it when a shot 
rang out — one solitary shot that hit nobody. 
But that shot was a signal. A second later 
came a volley, sudden and sharp and shorn 
off like the sound of one gun firing, and then 
another volley, and another ; then independent 
firing, that rattled for a moment, and grew 
less, and died down into nothing, ending with 
one solitary shot. 
Furleigh, peering round the corner of his 
shelter, could see nothing; he supposed that 
the scouts had taken cover. So he turned to 
his helio again and got ready to transmit 
the message that Copeland would surely 
send him in a minute or two. But no one 
came back with any order. 
He sent a flash or two, to call the attention 
of the column that was still out of sight 
beyond the skyline to the rear, and after a 
minute he caught the answering flash. 
“ Stand by,” he signalled. “ Information 
coming ! ” 
“ Ready ! ” came the answer. 
Then, from the corner of his eye, he 
caught another flash, over to the left, beside 
him. A glance over there showed him 
another helio, manned by a fellow with a 
shaggy beard. It was a Boer helio, and it 
was signalling the British column. Furleigh 
and his instrument were out of sight of the 
enemy, and so was the mule, for a little 
ragged escarpment ran down from the kopje 
that concealed him and formed a wedge- 
shaped screen between bi n and the Boers. 
He had to stand on tip-toe and peer above 
it in order to see the man who signalled. 
So he drew back his helio a little farther 
towards the kopje and hobbled the mule 
more carefully and watched, trying to read 
the Boer flashes. 
It proved difficult. He could read easily 
enough what the British signallers answered ; 
but they, too, seemed to find it hard to 
understand. 
“ Repeat ! ” they kept on signalling. 
“ Repeat 1 Not understood ! ” 
Either the Boer was a beginner at the 
instrument or else his knowledge of English 
was at fault. 
Suddenly Furle : gh heard a noise behind him, 
to his right, and he turned and saw Cope- 
land creeping towards him on his stomach. 
The moment he reached the little hollow 
in the shelter of the kopje Copeland rose 
to his feet. He was white as a sheet and 
trembling, but there was no sign of a wound 
on him. 
“ Quick ! Out of this ! ” said Copeland. 
“ The Boers are behind that hill, several 
thousands of them. They ambuscaded us. 
Shot down every single man ! ” 
(l Except you ? ” suggested Furleigh. 
But the irony missed ; Copeland was too 
excited. 
“ The Boers have got a helio on that hill,” 
said Furleigh, quite calmly. “ They’re 
signalling the column. I can’t read what 
they’re saying, but our men don’t seem able 
to read it either.” 
“ Who cares what they’re saying ! Loose 
that mule i Come on, hurry ! I’ll ride him, 
and you take hold of the stirrup ! ” 
Furleigh loosed the mule. 
“ All ready, sir ! ” he said. 
There was a pronounced accentuation on 
the “ sir.” 
Copeland mounted. 
“ Come on ! ” he ordered. <£ Catch hold ; 
hurry up ! ” 
“ One minute,” said Furleigh, still holding 
to the rein. “If you get through, tell ’em 
that that wasn’t my helio flashing ; d’you 
understand, SIR ? ” 
“ Let go of that rein, will you, you fool ! ” 
The mule milled round and round, for 
Furleigh held it, and Copeland was kicking 
with both of his heels. Officers command- 
ing scouts were armed with rifles like the 
rest, to save them from being picked off by 
the enemy ; Copeland had dropped his rifle, 
and he had no weapon of any kind, but he 
felt for his sword now instinctively. 
