From the veldt to the northward, there came a confused din of
rushing, trampling feet; a cloud of dust, lifted on the night
breeze, swept down upon them; and then a herd of stampeding cattle
dashed madly past, noses to earth and tails lashing in furious fear.
An instant later, the darkness to the left was shattered by dots of
light, and the air snapped with the double crack of Mauser rifles.
Far to the northward, though muffled by distance, there was more
firing, and yet more; and ever the moving searchlights carved their
way to and fro through the inky night.
Like a dog on the scent and ready for the plunge, Captain Frazer had
straightened to the full of his height and stood tense, waiting an
instant to measure the scope of the coming fight.
"It's a row, sure enough; and thank God, I'm in it!" he said quietly
then. "Come back to the line, Weldon. There'll be work for us all,
in a few minutes."
Even as he spoke, and while they were hurrying back to the squadron,
a random shot pierced the darkness just before them, and a bullet
whirred close above their heads. Another shot tossed up a spray of
dust at their feet, and a third fell full in the tent where Carew
was swiftly tightening his belts and assuring himself that his
bandoliers were full.
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