They were speaking freely, but what they said I did not know, as I had picked up only a very few words of the Matabele language.
It seemed hours while we waited, still as mice in our ambush, and alert.
I began to think Colebrook must have been lost or killed--so long was he gone--and that we must return without him.

At last--we leaned forward--a muffled movement in the grass ahead! A slight wave at the base! Then it divided below, bit by bit, while the tops remained stationary.

A weasel-like body slank noiselessly through.

Finger on lips once more, Colebrook glided beside us.

We turned and crawled back, stifling our very pulses.