against the animals' flanks, and hoofs
are raised with a rinsing, sucking sound. But there is man's work
afoot. As the rain-mists sufficiently clear, the "Robber" is able to
take his bearings. The head of the column has now reached the foot of
a long low-lying ridge. The end cannot be seen; but the "Robber"
explains that the farm where the Boers should be lies in a small cup
at the foot of the farther end of this ridge. The column has already
reached the place where it will be advisable to leave the horses. If
they are taken farther along, the Boer picket, which is probably
stationed on the ridge, may be disturbed. Now, even if a horse should
neigh, it would be mistaken for one of the many brood-mares belonging
to the farm. The march has been admirably timed; it still wants two
hours to daybreak. It will take fully half this time to work along the
ridge, overpower the picket if there is one, and surround the farm.

"Dismount--Number threes take over the horses." The word is passed
from man to man in whispers. There is some little noise. Exaggerated
by the situation, it sounds a babel. Can any enemy within a mile have
failed to hear it? A rifle-butt hits against a stone. A horse, either
pulled by the bit or terrified at some night-horror, backs and
plunges, and disturbs the whole section. A smothered curse, as in the
_melee_ some man's foot is trampled. Surely such a noise would wake
the dead! No; the men fall in at the foot of the hill. They are told
to lie down and wait. The horror of that waiting! There is a sound on
the side of the hill. A boulder has been shifted. The men clutch
their rifles, the click of a pistol cocking is clearly audible. Then a
form looms up. The "Robber" signals silence. The figure is
approaching. It is only the Kaffir scout, who had been sent on in
advance to locate, if possible, the picket. He comes up and hangs his
head upon his hand. He has found the picket, and this is his way of
demonstrating that the two Boers comprising it are asleep.

Harvey of Rimington's takes command. He issues his orders, first to
his own men, then to the whole. They are simple: "Fix bayonets. I will
take the Kaffir with me. When I hold up both my hands, the left
section of fours will follow me. You know what to do; mind, not a shot
is to be fired. The force will advance up the hill extended to two
paces, and halt as soon as it reaches the summit. If we are discovered
by more than the picket, Rimington's will ral