Trooper Peter Halket of Mashonaland

Excerpt from Trooper Peter Halket of Mashonaland
It was a dark night; a chill breath was coming from the east; not enough to disturb the blaze of Trooper Peter Halket's fire, yet enough to make it quiver. He sat alone beside it, on the top of a koppje.
All about was an impenetrable darkness; not a star was visible in the black curve over his head.
He had been travelling with a dozen men who were taking provisions of mealies and rice to the next camp. He had been sent out to act as scout along a low range of hills, and had lost his way.
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