"No: stop!" shouted the leader, in a stentorian voice. "Do you want to
shoot your faithful brother?"
There was a murmur of agreement at this, and the rustle and rattle of
rifles being unslung stopped at once.
"Who is the burgher who followed the traitor?" continued the leader.
There was no reply, only a low muttering of voices as the Boers
questioned one another.
"Wait," continued the officer in command. "I daresay our brother has
wounded him and will bring him back in a few minutes."
The Boers waited with their little force drawn up in line and facing the
black far-stretching veldt, every man wondering which two of their party
had been traitor and pursuer, and naturally waited in vain.