It was in the afternoon of the next day that one of the messengers, sent out more than a week before, returned: the other was never seen again. The man was very proud of his success, and exhibited a small brass rod given him as a reward by the m’sungu in Abercorn. Tom was more interested to learn whether he had brought an answer to his message, and the negro produced from his loin-cloth a small dirty envelope. Tearing it open, Tom took out the still dirtier folded scrap of paper, which he recognised at once as a leaf from his own pocket-book. One side bore his message, now almost illegible; on the other he read the few words-- _Hold fast._ _T. Burnaby, Major._ "He’s short of paper, I suppose," Tom thought; he learnt later that in the army a superior officer writes his reply to a communication from a subaltern on the back. "But he might have said a little more. Doesn’t promise anything. Cold comfort, Major Burnaby. Yet it _is_ comfort after all. He wouldn’t say ’hold fast’ if he didn’t think there was a chance. Still, I’m glad I sent a second message: hope he gets it." Towards ten o’clock on the fifth morning after the interview with Major von Rudenheim, Tom was superintending work on the parapets of the trenches when a message came from the nearest of his scouting posts. From hill to hill had been shouted the news that a large column of white men, askaris and porters, was marching along the Neu Langenburg road from the direction of Bismarckburg. "At last!" Tom’s exclamation had something of relief, from the strain of suspense; something of anxiety, for what was to come. It was not certain, of course, that the nullah was the enemy’s objective, but he must act as if it were. Within a few minutes every man had gone to his allotted post. The source of the message was a hill many miles to the westward of the track by which Rudenheim had come. Two hours afterwards it was reported that the column had reached that track, but had halted in a glade beside the road; the men had thrown themselves on the ground. "They’re taking a rest after their hilly march," thought Tom. "Or perhaps they intend a night attack." But a few minutes later another message suggested a different explanation. From the further-most eastern post came word that a smaller party was marching from the direction of Neu Langenburg westward. It was formed mainly of porters, with a number of askaris and two white men. Was it not a fair inference that the junction of the road with the northward track had been appointed as rendezvous for both the columns, and that either the one was before its time or the other was late?