I saw it run white through the meadows of the plateau, then in a dark corkscrew down the glen of the Letaba, then white again through the vast moonlit bush of the plains, till the shanties of Wesselsburg rose at the end of it.

It seemed to me to be less a road than a rampart, built of shining marble, the Great Wall of Africa.

I saw Laputa come out of the shadows and try to climb it, and always there was the sound of a rifle-breech clicking, a summons, and a flight.

I began to take a keen interest in the game.
Down in the bush were the dark figures of the hunted, and on the white wall were my own people--horse, foot, and artillery, the squadrons of our defence.

What a general Arcoll was, and how great a matter had David Crawfurd kindled! A man came in--I suppose a doctor.