“But the hideous revenge!”
“Which hasn’t come off, my lad! But the black scoundrel’s ideas are shocking in the extreme, and I would not associate with him much in the future. Here! Hi! Olebo, stop!”
The young man drew rein, and the black looked up enquiringly.
“Lie down and listen for the Boers!”
The Kaffir nodded, and trotted a dozen yards away from the side of the ponies, threw himself down, listened, jumped up, and repeated the performance three times at greater distances before returning.
“No hear!” he said. “Gone other way.”
“It would be safe then to strike a match and look at the compass,” suggested West, and, taking out his box, he struck a light, shaded it in his slouch hat, and then held the little pocket compass to it.
“Well, which way are we going?”
“Due east.”
“Then we’ll turn due north, and travel that way till to-morrow night, and see what that brings forth.”