“Is the way open, chief?” whispered Hume.
“They watch like jackals when the lion has killed,” he said gloomily. “The order has gone round.”
“What! do they fear we will attempt to escape?”
“They know. Their white chief has told them.”
“Could we not get through while they are singing?” asked Hume, looking moodily into the darkness.
“Those who sing are not those who watch; they are nearer, and will close in until they are a fence right round.”
Hume turned despondently to explain, and all tightened their grasp on their weapons, and listened for any sign of this living and deadly ring, narrowing its coil for the final crush.
“Baas, I have a plan,” said the Gaika suddenly.
“What is it?”
“Which way would the baas go?”