Not hear any more .-- Go on.

Trek!" he cried in his deep, guttural tones; and the bullocks dragged at the great tow-ropes, the axles groaned, and away we went again in the same old crawl hour after hour, but without further alarm, though in one prolonged agony of anxiety, during which I was always looking or listening for pursuers.
Then came another trouble: the darkness was greater than ever.

It was a cloak, certainly, for our proceedings; but there was not a star visible to guide us in our course towards the old stronghold.
"Think we're going right ?" I asked again and again.
"Um?
Joeboy think so," he always replied.

"Wait till light come.

Soon know then." Words of wisdom these, of course; but though we kept on in what we believed a straight line for our goal, the line we were taking might be right away from the camp, or we might be proceeding in a curve which would bring us within easy reach of the enemy--perhaps as near as when we started.