Hume grasped his rifle, while Sirayo’s hand felt for his assegai.
The men stayed a few minutes gesticulating; then four of them started back for the main body, leaving two, who moved about for some time with their bodies bent. Then, straightening up, they advanced swiftly.
“Good God!” muttered Hume; “they have hit off the spoor. Behind the rocks!”
Sirayo said a word to the Gaika, and, slipping off their blankets, they each took an assegai and went down, one on each side of the ridge, taking so much advantage of the shelter, that, after a few moments, even Hume could not follow them.
“Have they deserted?” said Laura, with a gasp.
“No,” said Hume, in a suppressed whisper; “they are taking the only measure that will save us. They are brave men and faithful, and our lives depend on them.”
“It is true,” she murmured, while her eyes grew large. “I said it when you first told me of the accursed Rock—it can only be reached through blood.”
From the shelter of the rocks they saw the two men breast the ridge, following on the spoor like bloodhounds, and stopping at intervals to look over the ground ahead. Gradually their pace slackened, until, when they had reached the place where Laura had rested, they halted, and seemed reluctant to advance further; indeed, after looking long at the precipice which crossed the ridge, they turned to retreat.
They were about four hundred yards off, and Hume raised his rifle.
“If they escape,” he said, “the whole crowd will be about us, and if I fire it will also draw them.”