If the tribesmen kept to guerrilla warfare, there was no saying how long the campaign would last.
Lisle had passed through the fight unhurt.

He had been almost bewildered as he crossed the fatal path, running at top speed, with men falling thickly around him.

Halfway across Lieutenant Blunt, who was one of his great chums, and had joined just before him, fell.

Lisle sheathed his sword and threw himself down beside him, pressing him to the ground to prevent him from moving; while he himself remained perfectly still.

When the next rush of men came along, he lifted his wounded friend with great effort on to his back, and then ran on.