There was a long spell of silence after this, as they listened, with a feeling at their hearts that if there were people moving it was in search of them.
“Eweh! it is true!” broke in Klaas; “they are men on the war-trail, and they sing of battles.”
“I hear nothing,” said Laura, trembling.
“Nor I,” growled Webster.
“Neither do I,” said Hume; “but these men do. If they sing, however, they must be halting round their fires, and if they are after us there is nothing to fear now; but we must shift our quarters before we are trapped. What do you say, Sirayo?”
“Yebo, we must fly to the mountain and hide. No man can live long in these reeds, and a woman would be quickly struck down by the sickness.”
“Yes, we must reach the mountains.”
“What!” said Webster; “at first we fly to the reeds, to escape the people on the hills—people we cannot see; and now you ask us to fly to the mountains to escape people we cannot hear. It seems to me we are dodging shadows.”
“You are right,” said Hume wearily; “for what but a shadow could have stolen in like this man did just now while I watched and listened? For all we know he may have returned.”
“Don’t!” gasped Laura; “when I look round I see eyes staring at me, and in every noise I hear a footstep. It is horrible, this place, and the air seems heavy.”