Listen!"

Dickenson drew his breath hard and strained his ears instead of his
eyes.

"Well? Can't hear anything."

"Hist! Listen again."

There was a pause.

"Hear anything?"

"Yes; but I don't know what it is," said Dickenson, laying a hand behind
one ear and leaning forward with his head on one side.

"What does it sound like?"

"Something like a heavy wagon coming along a road with its wheels
muffled."

"Heavy wagon drawn by oxen?"

"Yes," replied Dickenson.

"Mightn't it be a big gun?"

"It might," said Dickenson dubiously; "but what, could a big gun be
doing out there on the open veldt?"

"Lying still in its carriage, and letting itself be drawn to the place
where it was to be mounted."

"Yes, of course it might be; but it couldn't."

"Why not? Bob, old fellow," whispered Lennox in an excited whisper, "I
believe the Boers are stealing a march upon us."

"Well, they won't, because we're on the watch. But out with it: what is
it you think?"

"They don't know that we are occupying the kopje to-night."

"No; we came after it was dark."

"Exactly. Well, they're bringing up a big gun to mount up here and give
us a surprise in the morning."

"Phe-ew!" whistled Dickenson. "Oh, surely not!"

"I feel sure that they are."

"Well, let's send word on to the old man. Send one of the sergeants."

"And by the time he got there with his news, and reinforcements could be
sent, the enemy would have the gun here."

"Let's tell Roby, then."

"Yes; come on."

In another minute they had told their officer their suspicions, and he
hummed and ha'd a little after listening.

"It hardly seems likely," he said, "and I don't want to raise a false
alarm. Besides, the outposts have given no notice; and hark! I can
hear nothing."

"Now?"

They listened in the darkness, and it was as their captain suggested:
all perfectly still.

"There," he said. "It would be horrible to rouse up the colonel on
account of a cock-and-bull story."

"But it would be worse for him to be warned too late. There it is
again; hark!" whispered Lennox, stretching out a hand in the direction
farthest from the village.

"Can't hear anything," said the captain.

"I can," growled Dickenson softly.

"Yes, so can I now. It's a wagon whose drivers have missed their way, I
should say. But we'll see."

"Or feel," grunted the captain. "It's as black as ink.--Here, Lennox,
take a sergeant's guard and go forward softly