Fred, with Kazimoto close at his heels, was more than fifty yards in front of either of us.
And crossing that mile of open land was no simple business.

It was a mass of rocks and tree-roots, burned over in some swift-running forest fire and not yet reseeded, nor yet rotted down.

There were winding ways all across it by the dozen that the elephants, with their greater height and better woodcraft, could follow on the run, but great stumps and rocks higher than a man's head (that from a distance had looked like level land) blocked all vision and made progress mostly guesswork.
However, the latter half-mile was more like level going--I emerged from between two boulders, wondering whether I could ever find my way back again, and envied Fred, who had found a better track and had the lead of me now by several hundred yards.

Will was as far behind him as I, but had gone over more to the left, leaving me--feeling remarkably lonely--away in the rear to the right.
Kazimoto followed Fred so closely, stooping low behind him, that the two looked like some strange four-legged beast.

They were headed for the forest in front of them at a great pace, increasing their lead from Will, who, like me, was more or less winded.