above. An hour passed before at last the river water plashed under the
trampling hoofs.

Hillyard threw his rifle forward, but the shikari touched him on the
arm.

"They are going," he whispered, and again the four men waited, until the
shikari raised his hand.

"It will be good for us to move! They are very near." He looked towards
the east, but there was no sign yet of the dawn.

"We will go very cautiously into the forest. We shall not know where
they are, but they will know everything we are doing."

In single file they moved from the bank amongst the mimosas, the donkey
with his head covered, still led by the boy. Under the cavern of the
branches it was black as pitch--so black that Hillyard did not see the
hand which the shikari quietly laid upon his shoulder.

"Listen."

On his left a branch snapped, ahead of them a bush that had been bent
aside swished back on its release.

"They are moving with us. They are all round us," the shikari whispered.
"They know everything we do. Let us wait here. When the morning breaks
they will charge or they will go."

So once again the little party came to a halt. Hillyard stood listening