Fever and hunger had made great ravages among them, and, although now the wet season was over a large quantity of food could be obtained in the forest, the losses which the white men's bullets, rockets, and guns had inflicted upon them had broken their courage.

The longing for home became greater than ever, and had it not been that they knew that troops stationed at the Prah would prevent any fugitives from crossing, they would have deserted in large numbers.

Already one of the divisions had fallen back.
Ammon Quatia spent hours sitting at the door of his hut smoking and talking to the other chiefs.

Frank was often called into council, as Ammon Quatia had conceived a high opinion of his judgment, which had proved invariably correct so far.
"We are going," he said one day, "to take Abra Crampa and to kill its king, and then to fall back across the Prah." "I think you had better fall back at once," Frank answered.

"When you took me with you to the edge of the clearing yesterday I saw that preparations had been made for the defense, and that there were white troops there.