Trooper Peter Halket of Mashonaland (Classic Reprint)

Trooper Peter Halket sfire, yet enough to make it quiver. He sat alone beside it, on the top of a koppje.1 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. Since eight in the morning he had wandered among long grasses, and ironstone koppjes, and stunted bush, and had 1K oppje, a little hillock.
(Typographical errors above are due to OCR software and don't occur in the book.)

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