“It must be time,” he muttered. “What noise is that?”
“Birds flying over. They smell the morning; and the buck will now take his stand at the edge of the kloof, to catch the first warmth of the sun. Ayi; the red line spreads along the sky.”
“Call your mistress!” Hume cried. “The moment is at hand!” he murmured; “and I—I will not see this wonder.”
Presently she came and stood by him.
“I am here, Frank.”
“Stand in the opening above, with your face to the west, and look below to your right. At the first ray of the sun you should see the light on the Golden Rock.”
“Am I to stand there alone,” she said, “at this moment we have looked forward to so intently?”
“Where is Webster?” he asked impatiently.
“He is still weak and asleep. And you, Frank—I can see you have been wounded.”
“For Heaven’s sake!” he said, almost fiercely, “take your stand there. I am all right, but knocked up.”