I remember they were moving along at a wretched pace, which showed that their horses were nearly spent.

Once again, notwithstanding all previous bitter lessons, my uncontrollable excitement was my undoing.

"Civilisation at last!" I screamed to myself, and then, throwing discretion to the winds, I gave the war-whoop of the blacks and rushed madly forward, yelling myself hoarse, and supremely oblivious of the fantastic and savage appearance I must have presented--with my long hair flowing wildly out behind, and my skin practically indistinguishable from that of an ordinary black-fellow.
My companions, I afterwards discovered, swept after me as in a furious charge, _for they thought I wanted to annihilate the white men at sight_.
Naturally, the spectacle unnerved the pioneers, and they proceeded to repel the supposed attack by firing a volley into the midst of us.

Their horses were terrified, and reared and plunged in a dangerous manner, thereby greatly adding to the excitement of that terrible moment.

The roar of the volley and the whizz of the shots brought me to my senses, however, and although I was not hit, I promptly dropped to the ground amidst the long grass, as also did Yamba and the other blacks.