At a pace which forced me to run hard, we climbed a steepish slope, till ahead of us we saw the bald green crown of the meadowlands.

I noticed that his face had grown dark and sullen again.

He was in an enemy's country, and had the air of the hunted instead of the hunter.

When I stopped he glowered at me, and once, when I was all but overcome with fatigue, he lifted his hand in a threat.

Had he carried a sjambok, it would have fallen on my back.
If he was nervous, so was I.