Bracy closed his glass, and turned with wrinkled brow to Gedge, who took this as an invitation to give his opinion; and he went on at once, as if in answer to a few remarks from his officer.
“Yes, sir,” he said; “it is a nice game, and no mistake. The cowards! Look at ’em, sir. That’s what they mean to do—come sneaking along after us, waiting for a chance to rush in and take a stroke, and then slipping off again before we can get a shot at ’em. That’s what they think; but they’re making the biggest mistake they over made in their lives. They don’t know yet what one of our rifles can do.”
“You think they mean to follow us up, Gedge?”
“That’s it, sir. They’ll hang about for a chance. These niggers haven’t got anything to do; so, when they see a chance of doing a bit of a job so as to get something, they give theirselves up to it and go on, spending days and weeks to get hold of what they could have got honestly in half the time. But, look here, sir.”
“Yes,” said Bracy, nodding, as his companion tapped his rifle. “We could keep them off by good shooting, Gedge, while it is light; but what about the darkness?”
“Yes; that’s what bothers me, sir. They don’t try the shooting then, but sets their guns on one side, and lakes to those long, sharp knives.”
Bracy nodded again, and Gedge drew back, and began to make quick points with his rifle, acting as if the bayonet were fixed.
“That’ll be it after dark, sir. Bay’net’s more than a match for any knife in the dark.”
“Yes,” said Bracy; “but it means one of us to be always awake, and in such a journey as ours this will be distressing.”
“Never mind, sir. We’ll take double allowance of sleep first chance afterwards. Yes; I see, sir; that patch o’ stones, one of which lies over o’ one side—to the left.”