United States or Sri Lanka ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Through an eddying cloud of dust raised by the struggle Wilmshurst watched the unequal conflict, until his will-power overcoming the initial stages of hypnotic impotence, he threw the cub to the ground and drew his knife.
Crowds of aasvogels, gathered around the carcass of a mule, rose on the subaltern's approach, uttering discordant cries as they flew away from their interrupted meal. It was unfortunate but unavoidable, and had Wilmshurst been within a couple of miles of a hostile post the aerial commotion would have "given him away."
This track did not lead in the direction of the stranded seaplane, so Wilmshurst conjectured that the Askaris had made straight for their main body, possibly with the intention of bringing men to recover the trophy. Again the subaltern levelled his glasses and swept the skyline.
"I felt like it once." "Simply had to stroll over and have a palaver with you," continued Spofforth. "I was afraid that my men would spot my hands trembling. Hope the Boches are standing. Hang it all! Why did nature let me grow to this height?" Spofforth was laughing now. The mental tension of the seemingly interminable wait was over. "Two minutes more hop it, old man," cautioned Wilmshurst.
Wilmshurst and Laxdale sat on the upper bunk, Spofforth on the closed lid of the wash-basin stand, and Danvers found a temporary resting-place on the none too rigid top of a cabin trunk. Each man kept his feet carefully clear of the floor, while four pairs of eyes were fixed upon Dudley's tunic, the folds of which were pulsating under the violent lung-movements of the sheltering rodent.
A cloud of dust rising sullenly in the still air marked the approach of the column. The Huns were moving rapidly, although there were no sounds to indicate that they were fighting a rear-guard action, while there were no signs of any advance guard. "We've got them cold," exclaimed Wilmshurst, gleefully, then, "No. 1 Section, volley firing, ready."
"Judging by my footsteps I must be a pigeon-toed blighter," soliloquised Wilmshurst, as he noted the turned-in prints in the soft ground. "I must look out to that, or I'll give the show away." On and on he went, making his way from one point of cover to another, yet without seeing or hearing the faintest sign of the German patrols.
It was but one of many examples of the way in which Germany prepared for war not only in Europe but in her territorial appendages beyond the sea. MacGregor landed with the troops and was given a semi-official position as scout and attached to the same battalion to which Wilmshurst belonged.
I suppose you didn't happen to notice what he wore while he was attached to the Waffs?" "Boots and gaiters," replied Wilmshurst. "But, of course, that was some time ago." "And boots are scarce in this show," rejoined the other tentatively. "When a man gets used to wearing a certain pair he's not likely to discard them in a hurry. I'll bet that is von Gobendorff's trail."
"I'd have a shot at it if I were told off for it, of course, but this darkness seems to have weight to press upon a fellow's eyes. S'pose it'll end in having to send out parties to bring the fellow in." Truth to tell, Wilmshurst was not particularly keen on his brother's chum. Why, he could hardly explain. It might have had something to do with MacGregor's conduct when the lioness charged.
Word Of The Day