mperturbability, the speaker's mind was revolving
very grave thoughts indeed.

The escort, and its momentous charge, had effected a prompt and early
start from Fort Isiwa, far earlier than could have been expected; for,
thanks to Harley Greenoak's skilful guidance, the way across country of
the express-riders had been nearly halved. The convoy, proceeding at
something of a forced pace, had covered about three hours of ground
since the said start.

The road lay over gently undulating ground, dotted with mimosa, now over
a rise, only to dip down again into a corresponding depression. Away,
against the blue mountain range in the distance, arose here and there a
column of thick white smoke in the still atmosphere. It wanted an hour
to sundown. Then, suddenly, the lay of the land became steeper. Dark
kloofs, thickly bushed, seemed to shoot forth like tongues, up to within
a hundred yards of the high, switchback-like ridge which formed the line
of march. But no Kafirs were met. It was as if the land were, in their
own idiom for war, "dead." Even the few kraals which lay just off the
road here and there, showed no sign of life.

By the advice of Harley Greenoak scouts had been thrown out ahead of the
convoy. To this, Sub-Inspector Ladell, who, though as plucky as they
make them, was not a particularly experienced officer, had at first
demurred.

"Why, dash it all, there's no war," he had protested. "By putting on
all this show we're making them think we're afraid of them."

"Well, take your own line. You're in command of this racket, not me,"
was the imperturbable rejoinder.

But the scouts _were_ thrown out.

Now, as the convoy ascended a rise, two of these came galloping in.
Several bodies of Kafirs, they reported, were massed in a shallow bushy
kloof which ran up to the road ahead. They themselves had not been
interfered with, but their appearance had been marked by considerable
excitement. Moreover, the savages were all armed, for they had seen the
glint of assegais and gun-barrels.

"Hurrah!" sang out Dick Selmes. "Now we are going to have an almighty
blue fight." But Ladell, alive to the gravity of his charge and his own
responsibility, was not disposed to share his enthusiasm. Had he
already got his convoy safe to the Kangala Camp, he would thoroughly
have enjoyed the prospect of fighting all the ochre-smeared denizens of
Kafirland--come one, come all. Now, the thing wore a different face.

"