the way. The whole force advanced towards the rat-holes, the man who had
run away a little to the rear. They went forward through the rank
exaggerated weeds and skirted the body of the second dead rat. They were
extended in a bunchy line, each man with his gun pointing forward, and
they peered about them in the clear moonlight for some crumpled,
ominous shape, some crouching form. They found the gun of the man who
had run away very speedily.

"Flack!" cried Cossar. "Flack!"

"He ran past the nettles and fell down," volunteered the man who ran
away.

"Where?"

"Round about there."

"Where did he fall?"

He hesitated and led them athwart the long black shadows for a space and
turned judicially. "About here, I think."

"Well, he's not here now."

"But his gun---?"

"Confound it!" swore Cossar, "where's everything got to?" He strode a
step towards the black shadows on the hillside that masked the holes and
stood staring. Then he swore again. "If they _have_ dragged him in---!"