“Don’t leave me out,” she whispered, and with the first laugh that had left their lips for some time, the three crossed hands. Then, seating themselves on the long grass between the rocks, they watched the Zulus right through the morning, and into the afternoon. There was no movement until the sun was on the downward slope, and the shadow of the mountain had lengthened out, when, the warriors fell into four companies, and entered upon what, from the deep-throated shouts that marked time to their antics, was evidently a war-dance.
“See!” said Hume anxiously, “they are preparing to attack; there can be no doubting that dance. Can it be possible that they know we are here?”
“If our men have told them,” said Webster gloomily. “But,” he added grimly, “let them come, and have done with this suspense.”
“They are moving now!”
“And coming this way!”
“Yes, by heavens!”
“Hark,” said Laura, “what booming noise is that?”
The two men looked at her, at the wild gleam in her eyes, at the parted lips and heaving breast, and the dew stood in beads on their foreheads at the awful thought that her mind had given way.
“Why do you look at me so? Do you not hear it—there!”
Hume started, and bent his eyes to the top of the krantz.