In these operations Lumsden’s Horse learned a great deal about the tricks and methods of Boer scouts, and soon began to realise that these could best be met by bringing all a shikarri’s varied experiences into play. In reality the wily Boers do not send out patrols, according to our interpretation of that word. When any considerable number of them are seen together, it may be taken for granted that their scouts have previously done all the work expected of them, or that they are off somewhere in another direction, acting as a screen for some more important movement. When watching a hostile force, with a view to aggressive tactics or defensive measures, the Boers hardly ever show themselves. If caught by chance on the move, they either halt where they are and lie down or steal away one by one to the nearest cover, knowing perfectly well that any large body moving can be seen a long distance off, while separate figures become almost invisible dots on the vast plain and attract no attention from people whose eyesight is less keen than a Kaffir’s. Once concealed from view, they are careful not to show themselves again on the sky-line, or on a sunlit slope, where their shadows would betray them. From hunting wild game they have learned to pursue the tactics of an antelope or a haartebeeste in eluding a vigilant enemy. As a herd of deer, browsing peacefully in some hollow, leaves a trusty sentinel on the nearest hill to keep watch, so Boers tell off one of their number for a similar duty, and he, like the sentinel buck, remains motionless beside a tree or stone, invisible himself, but allowing no movement on the plain to escape his watchful eye. The man on whom this task falls is generally a veteran trained by long experience to a knowledge of the veldt and the habits of every being, man or beast, frequenting it. By the actions of horses or cattle on the pastures, not less than by the hurried movement of more timid wild animals or birds, he knows whether they have been disturbed by anything unusual. Then he stoops down to listen, and his ears are so sensitive by long practice that he can distinguish the rumble of wheels or tread of marching men miles off, though the sound comes to him no louder than the whisper of wind among dry grass. And a bird on the wing, or animal scuttling through the undergrowth, will warn him at once of approaching foes. [Illustration: CAPTAIN CLIFFORD]