"Too late!" my brother whispered back. "Do you hear the patrols?"
Footsteps crashing through the undergrowth resounded on the right and left.
"Cold work!" said a voice.
"Bitter!" came the answer, just above our heads.
"Seen anything?"
"Nothing!"
The rustling began again on the right, and died away.
"They're closing in on the left!" Another voice this time.
"Heard anything, you?" from the voice above us.
"Not a thing!"