Evidently they
were arranging a surprise when there was sufficient light to carry it
out.
"They have seen our fire," whispered her father to Benita; "now, if
we wish to save our lives, there is only one thing to do--ride for it
before they muster. The impi will be camped upon the other side of the
hill, so we must take the road we came by."
"That runs back to Bambatse," faltered Benita.
"Bambatse is better than the grave," said her father. "Pray Heaven that
we may get there."
To this argument there was no answer, so having drunk a sup of water,
and swallowing a few mouthfuls of food as they went, they crept to the
horses, mounted them, and as silently as possible began to ride down the
hill.
The sentry was alone again, the other three men having departed. He
stood with his back towards them. Presently when they were quite close
on to him, he heard their horses' hoofs upon the grass, wheeled round at
the sound, and saw them. Then with a great shout he lifted his spear and
charged.
Mr. Clifford, who was leading, held out his rifle at arm's length--to
raise it to his shoulder he had no time--and pulled the trigger. Benita
heard the bullet clap upon the hide shield, and next instant saw the
Matabele warrior lying on his back, beating the air with his hands and
feet.
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