ut we soon caught it up. Once more
I said, "We are on him!"

A minute later, we were pulled up short before an impenetrable thicket
of prickly shrubs, through which I saw at once it would have been quite
impossible to urge our staggering horses.

The other man, of course, reached it before us, with his mare's last
breath. He must have been making for it, indeed, of set purpose; for the
second he arrived at the edge of the thicket he slipped off his tired
pony, and seemed to dive into the bush as a swimmer dives off a rock
into the water.

"We have him now!" I cried, in a voice of triumph. And Colebrook echoed,
"We have him!"

We sprang down quickly. "Take him alive, if you can!" I exclaimed,
remembering Hilda's advice. "Let us find out who he is, and have him
properly tried and hanged at Buluwayo! Don't give him a soldier's death!
All he deserves is a murderer's!"

"You stop here," Colebrook said, briefly, flinging his bridle to
Doolittle to hold. "Doctor and I follow him. Thick bush. Knows the ways
of it. Revolvers ready!"

I handed my sorrel to Doolittle. He stopped behind, holding the three
foam-bespattered and panting horses, while Colebrook and I dived after
our fugitive into the matted bushes.

The thicket, as I have said, was impenetrable above; but it was burrowed
at its base by over-ground runs of some wild animal--not, I think, a
very large one; they were just like the runs which rabbits make among
gorse and heather, only on a bigger scale--bigger, even, than a fox's
or badger's. By crouching and bending our backs, we could crawl through
them with difficulty into the scrubby tangle. It was hard work creeping.
The runs divided soon. Colebrook felt with his hands on the ground: "I
can make out the spoor!" he muttered, after a minute. "He has gone on
this way!"

We tracked him a little distance in, crawling at times, and rising now
and again where the runs opened out on to the air for a moment. The
spoor was doubtful and the tunnels tortuous. I felt the ground from time
to time, but could not be sure of the tracks with my fingers; I was not
a trained scout, like Colebrook or Doolittle. We wriggled deeper into
the tangle. Something stirred once or twice. It was not far from me. I
was uncertain whether it was HIM--Sebastian--or a Kaffir earth-hog, the
animal which seemed likeliest to have made the burrows. Was he going to
elude us, even now? Would he turn upon us with a knife? If so, could we
hold him?