Lying down on the ground, as if tired out, the two watched eagerly, and carefully noted the position of the Cossacks. Riding some three hundred yards from their comrades, each of these wiry horsemen leapt from his pony, removed the bit and slipped it under its jaw, and left it there with the reins on the neck, so that in a few moments it could be replaced. Girths were then loosened, and while the animal cropped the grass its watchful master trudged backwards and forwards, lance in hand, and with his face always turned towards the distant camp.
“Sebastopol lies over there,” said Phil, nodding in the direction they had come, “and we must make a bolt for it some other way. The outposts are certain to be more vigilant behind us. Look at that fellow over there on our right. I have had my eye on him these last two days; he is evidently lazy and careless of his duties, especially now that no Cossack officer is with the horsemen guarding us.”
Tony glanced in the direction indicated, and noted that the man Phil had called his attention to was standing by his pony’s side, with one elbow resting on the saddle, and his head on his hand, as if already asleep.
“Yes, that’s the beggar for us, Phil,” he whispered. “If we crawl over there we ought to be able to slip by him unawares. To-night will be fairly light—just sufficient for us to spot him at twenty yards,—and once we know where he is, it won’t be much of a job to slip between him and the next.”
At dusk a meal was served, and having eaten their portion, Phil and Tony threw themselves down upon a blanket, and spread the second over them, for the nights were already chilly, and they had discovered that with only one blanket apiece greater warmth and comfort could be obtained in this way.
“It won’t do to fall asleep now,” whispered Phil. “We have had a tiring uphill march, and are both in need of a snooze and inclined to take it. Let us talk about something interesting, so as to keep awake.”
Tony yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes.
“I was precious near off then,” he answered. “Tell yer what, Phil, teach me a few words of this Russian lingo. That’ll wake me up.”
Accordingly Phil commenced with the simpler words, and when Tony had heard and repeated as many as he was likely to remember, they commenced to chat about their life in the menagerie, taking care only to whisper, and keeping a vigilant watch upon the sentries close at hand.
“We must clear out of this about an hour before midnight,” whispered Phil. “The sentries are changed at twelve o’clock, and the Cossack outposts too. If we wait till then they are all sure to be wide-awake in expectation of relief, and after midnight there will be little chance of slipping past the fresh ones. As it is, I see it will be a far more difficult job than we had imagined.”