Yet Trent would have no caution relaxed, the more they progressed, the more vigilant the watch they kept.

At last came signs of the men of Bekwando.

In the small hours of the morning a burning spear came hurtling through the darkness and fell with a hiss and a quiver in the ground, only a few feet from where Trent and the boy lay.

Trent stamped on it hastily and gave no alarm.

But the boy stole round with a whispered warning to those who could be trusted to fight.
Yet no attack came on that night or the next; on the third Trent and the boy sat talking and the latter frankly owned that he was nervous.
"It's not that I'm afraid," he said, smiling.