My eyes and thoughts would roam.

I looked at the ranks of the veteran Amawombe, and noted that they were still and solemn as men about to die should be, although they showed no sign of fear.

Indeed, I saw some of those near me passing their snuffboxes to each other.

Two grey-haired men also, who evidently were old friends, shook hands as people do who are parting before a journey, while two others discussed in a low voice the possibility of our wiping out most of the Usutu before we were wiped out ourselves.
"It depends," said one of them, "whether they attack us regiment by regiment or all together, as they will do if they are wise." Then an officer bade them be silent, and conversation ceased.

Maputa passed through the ranks giving orders to the captains.