"What is it? What d'you hear?" asked Bruce, forgetting dignity and everything else in the excitement of the moment.
Uncle Ben remained silent for a full minute.
"Don't you hear it?" he said. "Listen carefully. There; d'you catch it?"
Bruce listened with all his ears; but those organs, not having been tutored, as were his companion's, to catch every little sound of veldt life, could detect nothing as yet.
"You'll hear in a minute, for they're coming this way!" said Uncle Ben. "But they're a mile off or more."
"Who, who?" muttered Bruce, his throat quite dry with excitement. "The Mashona fellows?"
Uncle Ben nodded.
"Now listen again!" he said.
Bruce did so, and this time he distinctly heard the rhythmical tread of a body of men apparently moving at a quick march.
"Trotting and coming straight for us along this path," whispered the older man. "You hear them now, I see. Well, there's no cover for the horses hereabouts; what's to be done with them?"