Ulyate, the white hunter, was the next. Kearton had just finished
filling his pipe and he silently reached out the bag of tobacco.
But Ulyate shook his head.
"Throat's too dry," he said. "But I want to be sure I understand
what I've got to do. I'm to stand by to protect the cameras and
leave the Colonel and the two boys to look after themselves. If
the lion charges them I'm not to fire--only if he comes at the
cameras."
"That's right--only if he comes at the cameras."
"That's what I thought, but I wanted to make sure--It's a likely
place, this Rugged Rocks," he continued over his shoulder. "We
might easily find one to-morrow."
Means on his big bay borrowed a drink of water from Gobbet's
canteen, and rode on after the others.
The march of the safari grew slower and slower. The road was
flat, bending a little back and forth in long, sweeping curves,
like a rope that was once taut and had been loosened. The native
drivers no longer cried at the oxen, for the beasts knew by
instinct that they were traveling to water and could be relied
upon to do their best; and the men rode with their heads hung
down, watching the shadows of the horses on the road and hoping
to see them lengthen.
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