Had there been a trumpet-call, a single shot, or a loud order, to a man they would have sprung up to rush to their horses, saddled, and been ready to attack or defend; but the shifting of some wagons during the night--what was that?
Nor was the Boer force a carefully drilled cavalry brigade, with its transport-corps under the strictest discipline, every man part of a machine which only moved by order, and whose stores and supplies were under the most severe regulation and guard; it was a loose, irregular horde, whose officers had to permit the men to fight very much as they pleased, so long as they fought well and advanced and retreated at the word.
It took time to reason all this out, and to get to believe that our bold ruse was succeeding to a far greater extent than I had ever dared to hope.

There it was all plainly enough--all real; the wagons were going steadily along, the first guided by Joeboy, and the rest following with their black conductors quite as a matter of course.
As far as I could make out in the darkness, we were going along parallel with the lines of the sleeping Boers.

Growing more excited now, I began to wonder how soon Joeboy would turn the heads of the leading bullocks and strike out for the fortress; then my thoughts drifted into a fresh rut, and I speculated as to how long it would be before we came upon some outpost and were turned back.
Hardly had this idea crossed my mind, sinking my spirits almost to despair, when a great figure loomed up before me.

Joeboy was at my side.
"Got um all, Boss Val," he said in a low tone.

"Doppies come and stop us soon.