32 
SPORT AND WAR. 
CHAP. VI. 
sergeant—it is not Kafirs, but baboons.’ It was amusing 
to see the poor Highlander’s crestfallen face, and the 
shame that was depicted on it, as he again saluted 
me and said, 4 Ah, mon, yeere daant say thaat ? ’ 6 But I 
do say it, sergeant, and it is a false alarm. However,’ I 
continued, 4 stand to your arms ; you will soon be rein¬ 
forced from the post, and I will go back and report to 
the major.’ 
I rode back with my mounted orderly, and half-way 
to the post I met Johnstone, the colour-sergeant, with 
half the company, on the 4 double’ to join their com¬ 
rades. I told the party what had happened ; and the 
replies of astonishment were made in the same dear old 
Scotch accent—the 4 rhythm ’ of which thrills through 
me even at this moment as I write. I told the sergeant 
to take his m§n on and reinforce the camp until I 
brought him orders, and that I would report to the 
major. When I got to the post I found the men 
were turned out and had manned the breastworks, 
while the guard had fallen in, with fixed bayonets, at 
the gate. Everything was on the alert, and I was chal¬ 
lenged in due order ; but on asking for the major I 
was told that • the meegar had meounted his horse and 
gane after the partie.’ Now, I had come by the only 
road from the forest, and not meeting him I became 
alarmed, thinking there might possibly be Kafirs 
about, and that he had fallen into their hands. At this 
