others who now grow fat in the company of their women.'
Mbejane smiled. A week before he had put the message into the
grapevine and he knew that both Hlubi and Nonga were at that moment
dissipating their accumulations of fat as they trotted north from their
kraals along the Umfolozi River. They would be here soon.
'This is the way we will hunt,' Sean told him. 'Your men will spread
out ahead of us and search for sign. The horses of those we seek will
carry no steel on their hooves. If you find it fresh, then follow it
until the run and direction of it is clear.
Then return to me in haste.'
Mbejane nodded and sniffed a pinch from his snuffbox.
'While you search, stop at the kraals you find along the way.
Speak with the people there, clearly, if the Mabune are here these
people will know of it.
'It will be as you say, Nkosi.
'The sun comes. ' Sean looked up at the glow of it upon the high
places while the valleys were blue with shadow. 'Go in peace,
Mbejane.
' Mbejane folded his kaross and tied it with a strip of leather.
He picked up his stabbing spear and slung the great oval war shield on
his shoulder. 'Go in peace, Nkosi.'
Sean watched while he talked with the other trackers, listening to the
sonorous rise and fall of his voice. Then they scattered, trotting
away into the veld, dwindled and were gone.
'Eccles?' 'Sir. ' 'Finished breakfast?'
'Yes, sir.
The men stood to their horses, blanket, rolls and carbines on the
saddles, slouch hats pulled well down and the collars of their
greatcoats turned up against the cold. Some were still eating with
their bayonets from the cans of shredded beef.
'Let's go, then.' The column closed up, riding four abreast, the pack,
mules and the scotch cart in the centre, the outriders fanning out
ahead to screen the advance. It was a tiny command, not a hundred and
fifty paces long even with the pack animals, and Saul smiled as he
remembered the massive fifteen, mile column that had marched from
Colenso to Spion Kop.
Yet it was enough to tickle his pride. Courtney's Fighting Scouts. The
task now was to justify the second word of their title.
Saul hooked one leg over the saddle, balanced his notebook upon it, and
while they rode he and Sean planned a thorough reorganization of the
column.
When they halted at midday the planning was put into effect, A patrol
of ten men in charge of the mules, for this duty Sean picked those who
were fat, old or ungainly in the saddle. These men would also act as
horse holders when the unit went in to fight on foot.
From among his sailors, Sean selected the gunners to captain the four
Maxim teams. The riflemen were divided into patrols of ten with the
most likely men promoted Sergeant Patrol Leaders, and their warrants
noted in Saul's little book.
It was well after nightfall when they off saddled that night below the
