I wished he would begin to insult me, if only to distract my mind, but he kept obstinately silent.

He was sulky, and I think rather afraid of me.
As the sun got up I could see something of the host around me.

I am no hand at guessing numbers, but I should put the fighting men I saw at not less than twenty thousand.

Every man of them was on this side his prime, and all were armed with good rifles and bandoliers.

There were none of your old roers[1] and decrepit Enfields, which I had seen signs of in Kaffir kraals.