"Look out, boys!" he cried, pointing his hands under the waggons.

"What's wriggling in the grass there ?" I looked, and saw nothing.

Our sentries were posted outside, about a hundred yards apart, walking up and down till they met, and exchanging "All's well" aloud at each meeting.
"They should have been stationary!" one of our scouts exclaimed, looking out at them.

"It's easier for the Matabele to see them so, when they walk up and down, moving against the sky.

The Major ought to have posted them where it wouldn't have been so simple for a Kaffir to see them and creep in between them!" "Too late now, boys!" Colebrook burst out, with a rare effort of articulateness.