At any rate that's your choice, so let's go." Then I sang out to the Kaffirs, "The Basutos are on us.

We go to Tampel for refuge.

Run!" My word! they did run.

I never saw athletes make better time over the first quarter of a mile.

We ran, too, or at least the horse did, I hanging on to the stirrup and Anscombe holding both the rifles beneath his arm.