nterval had been
on his feet practically the whole of that time.

"MacGregor?" exclaimed Laxdale, who happened to overhear his
brother-officer's question. "Yes--rather. It seems that he struck our
main camp about an hour or so ago. The colonel's sent to say that we
are to attempt an enveloping movement. The Boches are in force on a
kopje about five miles on our light front--about eight hundred of 'em
according to MacGregor's report."

"That's good," declared Wilmshurst. All the same he felt rather
sceptical. The spoor of the right-hand column of the retiring Huns
hardly bore out the Rhodesian's statement, but evidently the scout knew
his business.

"Is MacGregor accompanying us?" he asked, as the three subalterns
prepared to rejoin their respective platoons.

"Fancy not," replied Danvers. "He's pretty well done up, I imagine.
The scrub's a bit thick out there, and a fellow can't crawl far without
picking up a few thorns. Plucky blighter, what?"

"A" Company was to work round to the right of the hostile position, "B"
operating to the left, both having two hours' start of the remainder of
the battalion, which was to deliver a frontal attack simultaneously
with the flanking movement.

With the night-mists still hanging in dense patches over the scrub
tactics were resumed. Wilmshurst had good reason to be delighted with
his men as the scouts and advance guards slipped off to their detailed
positions. At a hundred yards they were lost to sight and sound,
threading their way with the utmost caution through the long grass like
experienced hunters stalking their prey, while the various units kept
well in touch with each other by means of reliable runners. Other
methods of communication were out of the question. Flag-waving and
heliograph would have "given the show away" with the utmost certainty.

All feelings of physical tiredness vanishing under the magic spell of
impending action, Wilmshurst led his extended platoon toward their
allotted positions. It was slow work. The ground was difficult; every
spot likely to afford concealment to a hostile sniper had to be
carefully examined. The absence of bird life was ominous. It meant
that either the returning Huns had disturbed the feathered denizens or
else the advance of the Haussas had driven them over the enemy
position, in which case the wily Hun would "smell a rat."

It was noon before Wilmshurst gained his preliminary objective. The
tropical sun was