They know the country, and how to fight in it.

We had nothing to oppose to them but a handful of the new Matabeleland police, an old regular soldier or two, and a raw crowd of volunteers, most of whom, like myself, had never before really handled a rifle.
That afternoon, the Major in command decided to send out the two American scouts to scour the grass and discover, if possible, how near our lines the Matabele had penetrated.

I begged hard to be permitted to accompany them.

I wanted, if I could, to get evidence against Sebastian; or, at least, to learn whether he was still directing and assisting the enemy.

At first, the scouts laughed at my request; but when I told them privately that I believed I had a clue against the white traitor who had caused the revolt, and that I wished to identify him, they changed their tone, and began to think there might be something in it.
"Experience ?" Colebrook asked in his brief shorthand of speech, running his ferret eyes over me.
"None," I answered; "but a noiseless tread and a capacity for crawling through holes in hedges which may perhaps be useful." He glanced inquiry at Doolittle, who was a shorter and stouter man, with a knack of getting over obstacles by sheer forcefulness.
"Hands and knees!" he said, abruptly, in the imperative mood, pointing to a clump of dry grass with thorny bushes ringed about it.
I went down on my hands and knees, and threaded my way through the long grasses and matted boughs as noiselessly as I could.