"I say, Mark, you have to keep the watch," said Dean. "Don't you feel proud?"

"Not a bit," said Mark. "Our black chap seems to be doing that. Look at him parading up and down there with his spear over his shoulder just as if he was the grand boss of it all and we were his men."

Just then he strode up to where the boys were talking.

"Lions?" said Mark, in a questioning tone.

The man smiled pleasantly, and the boy repeated his question; but it was plain that the black did not understand.

"Oomph! Oomph! Oomph!" growled Mark, in as near an imitation of the monarch of the forest's roar as he could contrive after a couple of visits to the Zoo; but it had no effect whatever on their surroundings till the black, who now fully grasped his meaning, crouched down and uttered a startling, barking roar which made two or three of the nearest bullocks start up and stare in their direction.

"Here, you, sir, stop that!" shouted Buck Denham, the driver of their waggon, the first being in charge of the Hottentot.

The black turned to him, smiling, and nodded, before meeting the boys' eyes again and shaking his head.

Just then the doctor approached, to ask the reason of their guide's imitation.

"Oh," he said, on being informed, "don't encourage him in anything of that sort again, or we shall have a stampede of the ponies and bullocks. Well, Mark, recollect that it's your first watch to-night."

"Oh, I shan't forget," was the reply. "But you don't think we have come out far enough yet to meet with dangerous wild beasts, do you?"

"Oh, indeed, but I do," replied the doctor. "We have left the last post of civilisation behind, and we may come upon danger at any time. Of course you will mount guard with one of the double rifles charged with bullet, and if there really is any suggestion of danger you will fire, so as to give the alarm. We shall come to your help directly."

"Oh, yes, I understand," said Mark confidently, and he passed the intervening time before he received his orders going round their little camp with his cousin, watching the final preparations made by the drivers and forelopers, a couple of ordinary thick-lipped blacks, and then having a chat with the two keepers about what a change it was from the park and grounds of the old manor.

As the time approached, Mark, in spite of his assumed cheerfulness, could not master a slight feeling of discomfort. It was evidently going to be a cool, dark night. The very sound of it was startling to the lad—the announcement that he was to keep the full watch over their little camp of two waggons in a country where lions were common, and on one of the banks of the river which might very well be haunted by hippopotami and loathsome crocodiles.

The captain had spoken of its being called Reptile River, and of course that was what it meant. The very thought of it was alarming. He had read enough to know that hippopotami came out to feed by night, crushing up the succulent weeds and softer canes, grinding all up in their huge portmanteau-like jaws, while it was a well known fact that the ponderous beasts would rush at and trample down anyone who came in their way.

All that was bad enough, but nothing to compare for horror with the thought of a huge lizard or newt-shaped creature lying in wait ready to seize upon human being or ordinary animal, and drag its prey down into some hole beneath the bank, ready to be devoured at the monster's leisure.

Mark tried very hard to chase away such thoughts, but they kept coming on, right up to the time when he finished his supper and met the doctor's eyes.

"Ready, Mark?" he said.

"Yes, sir," said the boy firmly.

"That's right," said his father. "Keep a sharp look out, my boy. We are all trusting you to take care of us for the next few hours. Good-night."

"Good-night, father."

The boy shouldered the double rifle and followed the doctor.

"I should keep moving, Mark, my boy," said the latter. "It will occupy your attention and make the time seem to pass more quickly. It will keep you warm too, for it's sure to be very chilly later on. Stop here a minute or two. I just want to go to the forward waggon and say a word or two to the men. I will join you again directly."

Mark drew himself up stiffly as the doctor walked away, and then his heart seemed to give a bound, for there was a faint rustle just in front, and the boy brought his piece down to the present and made the locks click. "It's only me, sir," said a familiar voice. "You, Dan!" cried the boy, pressing one hand on the region of his heart, which was beating fast.

"Yes, sir; just me. You need not shoot. I have been waiting till the doctor had gone. I thought as it was rather a new job for a youngster like you, I'd come and ask you whether you would like me to come and keep the watch with you. You see, it's all fresh to you, but it's the sort of thing I have been brought up to aboard ship."

"It is very good of you," said Mark, warming up at the man's thoughtfulness, "but you had better go and lie down and go to sleep."

"I don't want to go to sleep, sir."

"But you will lose your night's rest."

"Not me, sir. I shall just shut one eye in the morning and let that have a snooze for a couple of hours while I get on with my work or keep on tramp. Then when that one's rested I can make him open and let the other have a snooze."

"No, no, it won't do," said Mark firmly, much as he would have liked to have the man's company. "It's my duty to take the watch, and I must take it."

"Mean it, sir?"

"Certainly," replied Mark. "I wouldn't have it thought that—there, go away; the doctor's coming back."

The sailor slipped away, and the doctor rejoined the boy, and pointed out a beat for him which should take him right round the waggons and the two spans of oxen.

"There," he said, "you know what you have got to do—to fire if there is any cause for anxiety."

"And I suppose I had better not go too near the river?"

"Oh, I don't know," said the doctor. "It's a mere stream just about here, though I daresay it's pretty big after rain. Good-night. You will wake up your cousin at about two. Good-night."

"Good-night," replied Mark, and he felt that his words must have sounded short to the doctor and full of annoyance, for somehow he thought that it was not fair for him to go away and leave such a boy as he was; and besides, it seemed unkind after he had made such a plain allusion to the river, for the doctor to treat it so lightly. Of course he knew that it was only a little river, a mere stream; but then it was big lower down, and what was to prevent any dangerous beast or reptile from crawling up to lie in wait for anyone that was near?

"Never mind," muttered the boy, "I suppose it's natural to feel a bit nervous; but I am not going to show the white feather."

He stood still, listening and trying to make out the doctor's step, but he could not hear a sound.

It was very dark, not a star showing, for a faint mist hung above the trees, and for a long time the only thing he heard was a stamp that sounded startling until he made up his mind that it must have been a fidgety movement on the part of one of the ponies, and shouldering his rifle, he stepped out slowly so as to pass right round the little camp.

But even that was difficult, for it was not until he was close upon the waggons that he could make them out, and as he went on the big bullocks were only represented to him by what seemed to be so many clumps of bush or heaps of soil.

He walked as slowly as he could so as to make his rounds take up as much time as possible, and as he came to the end of each traverse he tried to think out how many minutes it must have taken. This slow march was completed four times, and then he came to the conclusion that about an hour of his watch must have passed away, but only to alter his mind after a little thought and mentally see more clearly, that it could not be a quarter or even an eighth of what he realised now was going to be a very long and dreary watch.

"Well, it's no use to be impatient," he thought. "It's no worse for me than it will be for all the rest. One doesn't like it, but then the pleasure of the travelling and what we shall see right up in the hilly part where the great kopjes rise must make up for a bit of trouble."

He moved on again slowly, keeping a sharp look out in the direction of the stream and feeling convinced that he had heard a splash.

Then as he listened intently he was just about to come to the conclusion that it was fancy, when there was another, this time a regular heavy, wallowing sound. What it was he could not tell, but he felt sure that it must be some huge beast making its way through the shallow water and mud.

Mark's next thought was that the brute, whatever it might be, had left the river and was now stealing slowly towards him.

"Can't be a hippo," he thought, "or I should hear him crashing through the reeds and bushes. No, it must be one of those loathsome great efts, the scaly slimy brutes, crawling softly;" and at the very thought of it he pressed thumb and finger upon cock and trigger of his piece twice over so as to prepare for action without the premonitory click that accompanied the setting of each lock.

It was hard work to keep from turning sharply and running, but the boy set his teeth and mastered the desire. But he held his piece in front with two fingers on the triggers ready to fire, when all at once from a short distance behind him, and right in the direction in which he would have run, there came a deep, elongated puff as of some big animal, and he felt that his first idea was right, and that one of the huge hippos had caused the wallowing sound in leaving the stream and then made its way right behind him so as to cut him off from his friends.

"The doctor might well tell me to load with ball," he said. "Why, a shot gun would not have sent the pellets through the monster's hide."

There was a repetition of the heavy breath, apparently much nearer, which set the boy's heart thumping rapidly within his chest, and then the heavy beating began to subside as rapidly as it had commenced, for he said to himself, "Oh, you cowardly fool! Why, I am standing close to the bullocks;" and he stepped boldly out in the direction from which the heavy breathing had come, and began to speak softly to the great sleek animals, a couple of them responding with what sounded like so many sighs.

Mark's tramp around the camp became a little faster now as he stepped out and began musing about how easy it was to frighten one's self by imagining all sorts of horrors hidden by the darkness.

"Why, the doctor's right," he said; "I don't believe that there's anything one might mind in the little river, and of course, if there were lions near, the ponies and the bullocks would know it before I should. There, who's afraid of its being dark? Not I."

And walking and pausing by turns, the boy kept his watch, working hard to convince himself that he ought to be very proud of the confidence placed in him.

"There's something so real about it," he thought. "It's quite grand marching round and round here with a loaded double-barrelled rifle over my shoulder. I wonder how old Dean will feel. I'll be bound to say he'll be just as squirmy as I was. He won't go to sleep the first time he's on the watch."

The hours seemed to pass very slowly, though it was at their usual rate, and at last to his great satisfaction not only could he feel sure that half of his watch must have passed, but that it was growing lighter.

It could not be the approach of dawn, for he could see a few stars peeping out here and there, and he realised that this was caused by the lifting of the mist under the influence of a light breeze that felt almost chilly.

Mark was standing some little distance from the second waggon where the ponies were picketed, when all at once his heart set up its heavy beating again, for coming in his direction along the edge of the patch of forest he could plainly see a big, dark animal creeping cautiously towards where the ponies were tethered.

Mark watched it for a few moments, till he felt that it must have passed behind the trunk of one of the larger trees, and then it was gone.

"Could it be a lion?" he thought. "No, it had not the big, shaggy head. But it might have been a lioness, or perhaps some big leopard. Ah!" he panted, "there it is again! It's after the ponies. It must be!" and calling to mind that he had cocked his rifle, he covered the dimly-seen animal, which was coming very slowly nearer, and he could make out that it had moved on a few feet and then stopped, as if crouching down waiting to make a spring.

"What did the doctor say?" thought Mark. "I was not to fire unless there was real necessity. There must be real necessity here, for that beast is creeping closer and closer so as to be within easy distance for its spring."

The boy hesitated no longer, but raising his rifle to his shoulder he covered the object that was advancing, and was about to draw trigger when he realised the fact that he was aiming at what seemed to be a bush, while the lioness, or whatever it was, had disappeared.

Mark stared in wonder, for he could not understand how it was that an object which had seemed so clear in the transparent darkness had disappeared so easily, and he was staring almost wildly in the direction where he had seen it last when there was a faint, rustling sound a little to his left, convincing him that the nocturnal marauder had passed a pensile bough of a tree that must be sweeping the ground, and must be close upon the ponies, one of which uttered a low, tremulous, whinnying sound, and gazing sharply in the direction Mark saw as he drew trigger the big animal assuming a rampant position in springing upon the pony.

The silence of the night was broken by a roar, and Mark felt that a cloud was interposed between himself and the camp visitant which hurled him violently to the ground.



CHAPTER NINE.

"SEEN ANY MORE LIONS?"

Feeling half stunned, Mark rolled over and over, holding on to his piece the while, and struggled to his feet from amongst the bushes in which he had involuntarily sought refuge. His movements took him through a low, clinging cloud of the smoke of gunpowder, and he heard the rustling of trampled bushes as what he assumed to be his assailant dashed away. And now he grasped the fact that his shot had thoroughly roused the whole camp. The ponies were plunging and dragging at their raw hide lariats, and the oxen were upon their feet, alarmed in the darkness and about to break away; but Buck Denham, the English driver, and the Hottentot were yelling at them, and the black forelopers were adding their shrill cry as they aided in trying to pacify the beasts.

In the midst of the noise and confusion Mark heard his name loudly uttered, followed by the words, "Where are you, my lad? Speak up!"

"Here—here," he panted.

"Oh, that's right."

"Not hurt, are you?" cried the doctor, as he grasped him by one arm, and he awoke to the fact that his breathless father had seized him by the other.

"Speak, my boy," he cried. "Why don't you speak? Where are you hurt?"

"I don't quite know, father? Not much; but it sprang right at me and knocked me back amongst the bushes as it tore away."

"What tore away?" cried the doctor. "What did you fire at?"

"I am not quite sure," replied the boy excitedly, "but I think it was a lion. I saw it creeping up towards the ponies, and as it reared up to spring upon them I fired."

"Yes," said his father sharply, "and then?"

"I think I must have wounded it, for I heard it dashing away amongst the bushes."

"Well done, boy," cried his father, patting him on the shoulder. "But you are sure you are not hurt much?"

"Oh, yes, I am not hurt much, father," said the boy quietly. "The beast struck me on the shoulder and knocked me right backwards."

"Then he will be clawed, doctor. Let's get him into the waggon, and have a light."

"Yes, by all means. Who's there?" cried the doctor, in the darkness and confusion.

"Ay, ay, sir! Me, sir. Off for a lantern," cried the little sailor.

"Here we are sir," cried Bob Bacon. "Me, sir, and Peter Dance."

"That's right, my lads. Take hold of Mr Mark and carry him into the waggon."

"Oh, Mark," cried another voice, "don't say you are hurt!"

"Well, but I am, old chap," said Mark coolly. "No, I say, don't do that. Don't be frightened, father, I can walk."

"Are you sure, boy?" said the doctor, who had handed the rifle with which he had come out armed to the keeper; and as he spoke he passed his hands over Mark's shoulders, fully expecting to feel the moisture of blood oozing through his clothes.

"Oh!" shouted the boy, and Sir James winced, uttering a low hissing sound the while.

"It's got him there," said the doctor, between his teeth.

"Yes, it pricks," said the boy. "It was only when you touched it."

At that moment a light appeared from the direction of the first waggon, and the big bullock driver joined the party, ready to open his lantern and cast its rays upon the excited little throng, one of the first faces seen being that of the black guide, who, spear in hand, seemed to become one of the most animated, as he stood with his eyes flashing and his white teeth bared.

"Ahoy! Light's here, sir!" shouted the sailor.

"Bring it here," cried the doctor, and the rays of a second lantern came dancing through the darkness to help light up the scene.

"Now, my boy," said the doctor, "do you feel faint?"

"No," said Mark sturdily.

"I only want to see how much you are hurt."

"It's getting better now," said the boy cheerfully. "It only aches."

"But I must see where—" began the doctor, only to be checked by a shout from Mark.

"I say, don't! You are hurting me again. It's a big thorn, and you pressed it farther in."

"Is it the beast's claw?" whispered Sir James.

"It can't be," replied the doctor. "It's right on the back of his shoulder where I placed my hand—yes, here it is."

"Oh!" ejaculated Mark again, for the doctor thrust his hand inside the door of one of the lanterns, to display a great thorn about two inches long.

"Ah, there's lots more here, sir," cried Bob Bacon. "Mr Mark must have been knocked right into these bushes."

"Why, Mark," continued the doctor, "hold up your hands. They are all covered with blood. Scratches. I don't find anything else the matter with you."

"No," said Mark; "I don't think there is. I say, don't make such a fuss about it. It makes one look so stupid. I say, father, I'm very sorry I fired."

"Sorry!" said his father warmly. "Thank heaven, my boy, you are hurt no worse. The brute, whatever it was, must have been tremendously strong, and struck you down in its leap."

"Well, it did come at me with a good bang, father, just the same moment that I fired. Here, who's got my gun?"

"Gun," said a voice, and the Illaka reached over to thrust it into the boy's hand.

"Oh, thank you," said Mark. "Mustn't lose that. Here, you catch hold, Dean. Then you think I did right in firing, father?"

"Why, of course, my boy."

"Here, that will do, doctor. I think I am all right."

"Well, really, my boy, I am beginning to think so too. But I will keep watch the rest of the night with one of the men. You had better go and lie down now."

"Oh, no," said Mark. "It's my watch, and I am going to finish it."

"And I will come and finish it with you, my boy," said his father.

"But he has finished it," said the doctor, who had hastily pulled out his watch. "Two o'clock!"

"Then it's my turn," said Dean quickly.

"But I can't let you undertake that task now," said Sir James.

"Let me come, sir, along with Mr Dean, sir," cried the sailor.

"No," said Sir James. "Thank you all the same, my man, I have my rifle ready loaded. What has become of yours, Mark?"

"I have got it, uncle," cried Dean. "Give me your pouch and the cartridges, Mark. I want to load."

"But where's your piece, Dean?" said Sir James.

"Mine, uncle—mine? I came out in such a hurry that I forgot all about it."

"Bah! Well, here's Mark's pouch. Take it and load."

"Yes, uncle," replied the boy hastily. "Why, Mark, I only heard one shot. Did you fire both barrels?"

"Eh? I don't know. Perhaps I did."

"Well," said the doctor, a few minutes later, as he stood with Sir James and Dean, "I don't think that there is any occasion to be uneasy about Mark. He can't be injured, or he wouldn't be so calm. The animals seem to be settling down again, and that's a sure sign that there is nothing near to alarm them. What I wonder at is that we heard no sign from the bullocks—"

"Or from the ponies," said Sir James.

"—Before Mark fired."

"Then I suppose," said Sir James, "that we may all go and lie down till you rouse us up again, doctor."

"Which I certainly shall if there is any cause."

The alarm had not proved serious enough to interfere with the sleep of the camp, with one exception, and Mark formed that exception, for during the second watch either Dean or Mark's father went to the waggon as quietly as possible to look after the injured lad, and oddly enough had the same report to give, that Mark was sleeping easily and well, while as soon as each visit had been paid the boy turned over, exclaiming, "Bother! Anyone would think the lion had half eaten me. I wish they would not make such a fuss."

The last time, when Dean was coming off duty, it was to find his cousin's eyes wide open.

"Oh, you are awake now," he cried. "How are you?"

"Oh, all right. Seen any more lions?"

"No; it's been quite still all the rest of the night."

"Father all right?"

"Yes; he will be here directly. I say, Mark, let's look where you were hurt before he comes."

But this was not achieved, Sir James darkening the opening of the waggon tilt just as the neck of his son's shirt was thrown open, to display a big blackening bruise upon the boy's right shoulder, and further examination revealed a small hole where a thorn had penetrated, and some scratches upon the boy's hands.

"Are those claw marks?" said Dean excitedly.

"Pooh! Nonsense!" said a voice which made all look up, to see the doctor climbing into the waggon.

He too examined the injuries, and exclaimed, "You are sure you saw some animal about to attack the ponies?"

"Yes, certain," said Mark.

"And you fired at it?"

"Well, yes," said Mark; "you heard me, and came."

"Exactly," said the doctor drily; "but are you sure that the beast, whatever it was, sprang at you?"

"I saw it rear up as I fired," replied Mark, "and I felt a tremendous blow on the shoulder. Yes: here's the bruise."

"Yes, my boy," said the doctor quietly, "but that is just such a bruise as would have been made if you had pulled both triggers of a heavy rifle at once."

"Well," said Mark quietly, "I have been lying awake almost ever since, and that's just what I've been fancying. Do you think it was that, doctor?"

"I feel sure of it, Mark; and what's more, I have been all round the camp with the Illaka and the two keepers, and even in the moistest place we can find, there isn't the sign of a lion's spoor."

"Well, that's queer," said Mark, scratching his head. "I don't understand it. Now I want some breakfast, and I am going to get up."



CHAPTER TEN.

SHAM.

The doctor suggested that after such a broken night it would be as well to have an early breakfast before they started.

"Yes, capital," cried Mark. "I feel that that is just what I want to put me right."

"See to it at once, then, Dan," said the doctor. "Tell some of the men to get you some wood, and I will talk to the bullock drivers. Oh, there are the two keepers. They will help you to get wood and fetch water. Mind they get it from a clear part of the river."

"Ay, ay, sir!" said the sailor.

"How wonderfully well that poor fellow begins to look," said the doctor.

"Yes," replied Sir James, laughing; "and he thoroughly deserves the name of the Handy Mann. He is never happy unless he is doing something— regularly valeting me and the boys. What do you say to a walk round while they are preparing breakfast?"

"I am willing," replied the doctor, "and we will take Denham and his men as we go."

They started off, and before they reached the two long spans of oxen where they had been turned to graze, Buck Denham's voice was heard storming at somebody.

"Quarrel, seemingly, captain," said Sir James, smiling.

"Or a fit of bad temper," said the doctor, "because the big fellow's night, was disturbed. Here, what's the matter, Denham?" he continued, as they reached the shady pasture where the sleek bullocks were knee deep in rich grass, evidently laying in a store for emergencies when fodder might be scarce. "Don't say that any of the cattle have strayed?"

"Strayed, sir? Not they! They are all right—eight-and-forty of them. I counted them over twice to make sure, after the night's scare. My bullocks are all right. I only wish I could trust my men as well as I can them."

"What has happened, then?"

"You ask him, sir," replied Denham, pointing to the miserable looking little Hottentot—"a pretty sort of a half-bred animal! Look at him squatting there grinning like one of them there dog-nosed baboons."

"Don't insult the man," said the doctor sharply. "What has he done?"

"Man, sir! I don't call him a man," said Buck Denham. "Got nothing to do but a bit of driving now and then and to give a shout at his span, and naturally I trusted him as I was keeping my eye on the oxen to keep his on the two forelopers. I let him do it because he understands their lingo better than I do."

"Well?" said the doctor. "What then?"

"What then, sir? Here are we just two days out from the town, and he's lost one of them already."

"Lost? Nonsense!"

"Well, where is he, then, sir? He has gone."

"Gone?"

"Yes, sir. Sniffed at his job, I suppose, and gone off. I saw him safe enough last night; this morning he is nowhere. My foreloper he was, and now we shall have to stop here three or four days, perhaps a week, while I go back and hunt up another; and I can tell you, sir, they are precious scarce."

"That's vexatious," said the doctor. "Don't be put out, Denham, I think I see how it is. The poor fellow was no doubt scared by the alarm of the lion in the night, and very likely we shall see him come creeping in before it is time to start."

"Oh, thank you, sir," said the big fellow. "I am very glad you take it so easy. Some gen'lemen would be ready to jump down a poor man's throat for half this."

"Indeed!" said the doctor, smiling. "Well, I don't think you will find Sir James and me so unreasonable as to bully a good servant for an unavoidable mishap."

"Thank you, sir," said the big fellow, smiling. "That's done me good. I was afraid to meet you this morning, and I hope you are right, because we must have two of us to each waggon, and I don't suppose either of your servants would like to be asked to do such nigger's work. Hadn't I better start back at once and get another? It would save time if I took one of them ponies."

Sir James winced as he looked at the big fellow's proportions, and glanced uneasily at the doctor, who said, smiling, "No, we will wait to see if the man turns up, and if not our two boys shall mount the ponies and canter back to the station with a note to Captain Lawton asking him to help us to a fresh foreloper."

The man chuckled heartily.

"Why do you laugh?" said the doctor. "Do you think the captain cannot be trusted?"

"Oh, him, sir," replied the man. "Cap'n Lawton's a regular gen'leman. He'd do anything to serve a fellow-countryman. I was grinning, sir, because you thought I should be too much for the pony. Well, I am a big 'un, out and outer; but I growed so. You are quite right, sir, it would be rather hard on one of the brave little beasts, and I hope that black 'un will show up again, but I'm afraid of it. That lion last night scared him, but he'd be more scared to come and face you gen'lemen again."

Meanwhile, Mark had proposed that they should go to look at the spot where he stood to fire at his disturber. This was agreed to, and as they had to pass Dan Mann, Mark put in a word or two about hurrying on the breakfast, and told him to be sure to frizzle the bacon well.

"Ay, ay, sir!" cried the little fellow, beaming upon them; and they went on, looked at the ground by daylight, and saw no trace of footprints, only finding the spot where the unpleasant thorn bush had been crushed by Mark's fall.

"Yes," said the boy, giving a bit of a writhe and rubbing his back softly, "that's where I went down, sure enough, and I believe I have got another thorn in there now. My word, how stiff my shoulder is! I shan't be in a hurry to fire two barrels of a rifle together again. Yes, I stood just there when I fired, just as the beast had reared himself up—itself, I suppose I ought to say, for I don't know whether it was a cock or a hen—but hallo, where are the ponies?"

"Oh, Peter and Bob have taken them down to water, I suppose," said Dean.

"That they haven't. There they are, over yonder."

"Well, then, Buck Denham must have driven them over there with the bullocks to have a feed before we start."

"Let's ask Dan. Here, cooky, where are the ponies?"

"Dunno, sir. They were gone when I came to see to the fire. I expect Denham has taken them along with the bullocks."

"Come on, Dean. Let's go and see how the little fellows look."

The boys hurried amongst the trees to where Denham, the Hottentot and the foreloper were watching the grazing cattle, with the Illaka seated upon a fallen tree nursing his spear and looking on, while in the distance, each with his gun over his arm, they could see Sir James and the doctor, evidently making a circuit of the camp.

"Ponies, gen'lemen?" said the big fellow. "No, I ain't seen them; I have been so busy over my bullocks. Somebody must have taken them down to the riverside to get a good feed a-piece of that strong reedy grass that they are so fond of. You will find them down there."

"Come along," cried Mark, and the two boys hurried off in the direction of the river, threading their way amongst the trees till they caught sight of the running water sparkling in the rays of the morning sun.

"There they are," cried Mark, "munching away and regularly enjoying themselves. Oh, you beauties! But hallo! Who's that chap watching them?" and he drew his cousin's attention to a tall, thin, peculiar looking fellow who was standing close to the water's edge watching the ponies as if to keep them from going farther along the stream.

The man turned his head as he heard the boys approach, and then looked back at the ponies and drove one a short distance nearer the camp.

"Hullo, you!" cried Mark sharply. "What are you doing here?"

The man shrugged his shoulders, and made a comprehensive sign which included the four little animals.

"Yes, I see that," said Mark, "but what do you want here?"

The man shook his head sadly, and the boys saw that he was very yellow, as if dried in the sun, and had a particularly thin and peculiar face, with two long, pendant, yellowish moustachios which reached far beneath his chin. His beard was closely clipped, and they noted that he held a pair of small scissors, and as he drew back one of his twisted moustachios, he was occupied the while carefully snipping off the greyish stubble that just showed slightly upon his chin.

"But how did you come here?" asked Mark.

"Walked," said the man sadly.

"When?"

"Last—night," sighed the stranger, uttering the first word in quite a high-pitched tone, the second sounding almost like a groan.

He was very shabbily dressed—just an old flannel shirt and a pair of fustian trousers, while his head was covered by one of the regular, broad-brimmed, flop felt hats so common amongst Englishmen for protection from the sun.

"Well, you are a cheerful looking gentleman," thought Mark, and he had hard work on meeting his cousin's eye to keep from bursting into a fit of laughter. Then a sudden thought struck him.

"When did you say you came here?"

"Last—night?"

"What time?"

"No watch," said the man. "Quite dark."

"But what did you come for?"

The man pointed to the ponies, and Mark gazed at his cousin and whispered, "I say, I think I have seen this fellow before."

"Hanging about that dealer's yard?"

"Yes."

"I am sure I did," whispered Dean, as the man turned from them to check the wandering of another of the ponies.

"Dean," said Mark, "I have got an idea."

"Let's have it."

"That chap has come to steal our ponies."

"Bother!" cried Dean contemptuously. "When did you say you came?"

"Last—night," said the man.

"Here, I say, you, sir," cried Mark. "Did you say you came here last night to look after our ponies?"

"Yes," said the man, and they saw that he was working with his left hand now, snipping at the stubbly beard with the scissors, while with the other he held his moustache back to keep it from being cut.

"Look here," said Mark; "was it you who came close up to me in the dark when I was on the watch?"

"Yes," said the man sadly. "Thought you was asleep."

"It was lucky for you that I did not shoot you."

"Yes," said the man dismally, as he slowly took off his hat and poked one long thin finger through a hole that the boys had not previously noticed, shook his head at it sadly, put his hat on again, and went on snipping as before.

"There, Dean! Now, then, was it a false alarm?"

"Well, no; but I should never have taken this chap for a lion," replied his cousin. "Here, I say, you, sir, why do you speak as if you were sorry that my cousin did not hit you?"

"Wasn't," said the man, mournfully snipping away.

"Well, what do you want?"

"Breakfast," said the man. "Had none since you come away."

"That's cool," said Mark, as he looked at the man suspiciously. "Oh, here come Buck Denham and Dan. They have smelt that something's wrong about the ponies. Here," he continued, turning to the two fresh arrivals, "what are you two laughing at?"

"At 'im, sir," whispered Dan, as the oddity moved away after a pony.

"Yes, he's rather a rum 'un to look at, gen'lemen," said Buck, in the same low tone. "I have seen him before. Sort of hang-about as has to do with him as sold you those ponies. I think he's a bit touched in his head—dotty, you know."

"That's what I think too, gentlemen," whispered Dan. "I have been to 'Stralia—Sydney, you know, where chaps go out shepherding and don't see anything but the woolly ones sometimes for three months together, and I have heard as some of them quite goes off their heads, miserable and lonely like, for they have nobody to talk to but the sheep."

"But this isn't Australia," said Mark.

"And this fellow hasn't been with sheep," added Dean, "but ponies."

"No, sir," said Dan; "but horses do just as well."

"That they wouldn't," cried Mark. "A man who had horses with him could make companions of them."

"Yes," cried Dean, "and have a good long ride every now and then."

"To be sure," added Mark. "A man who had a horse or a dog for companion could not go off his head. Look at Robinson Crusoe; he was jolly enough with a poll parrot."

"Oh, yes, sir; but then a poll parrot could talk."

"Yes, but he had to teach it first," said Dean.

"Yes, sir," said Dan, "but you couldn't teach a sheep. Why, if you had one of them for years you would never get anything out of him but Baa!"

"Bah, then, to what you are saying," cried Mark. "Here, I say, you, sir," he cried, looking in an amused way at their visitor, who had finished his clipping, pocketed his scissors, and had taken hold of his moustachios as if they were reins and stroked them down with a twist, looking dolefully at those about him the while; "I'll answer for it that we give you some breakfast, and then you had better be off."

The man shook his head.

"Eh? What do you mean by that?" said Mark.

The man shook his head again and took out his scissors as if about to begin clipping once more, but bethought himself and put them back.

Dan chuckled as if he thought it was very good fun, and Buck bent down and whispered something in the little fellow's ear.

"Here, what's that?" cried Mark sharply.

"He means he's going to stop to dinner, sir."

It was said quite in a whisper, but the man proved that he was keen enough of ear.

"That's so," he said mournfully, as if the dinner would be a punishment.

"What, you mean to stay to dinner?"

The man nodded, paused for a few moments, and then with a heavy sigh—

"Yes."

"Well, you are a cucumber," said Mark, "upon my word!"

"Not in season," said the man.

"Cheek!" said Dean laughing.

The man looked up sharply.

"Bacon," he said sadly; and there was an explosion of laughter.

"Bob isn't here; but you are a queer fellow," said Mark.

"Yes," said the man; and he looked from one to the other, and sighed again.

"Here, I say," continued Mark, "where does it hurt you?"

"Hurt me?" replied the man.

"Yes. Inside? Are you in pain?"

The man shook his head.

"My way," he said, and he sighed again.

"Well, don't talk like that."

"Eh? No," said the man; and he reached out his hand to pass it over the muzzle of one of the ponies that had raised its head from where it had been cropping the green shoots of a dwarf shrub.

"The ponies seem to be very good friends with you."

"Yes, sir," said Buck; "they follow him like dogs."

"Know me," said the man sadly.

"Well, you needn't cry about it," said Dean.

"Oh, that's it," cried Mark; "I see. Poor chap! He came to see them again, to say good-bye."

The man shook his head.

"No," he said; "going with them."

"Oh, are you?" cried Mark. "I am glad you told me. But somebody else will have a word or two about that."

"Who?" said the man.

"Why, my father."

"But he bought the ponies," said the man.

"Yes," cried Mark, "but he didn't buy you."

"No," said the man. "Same thing. I belong to them."

"I say, Dozey," cried Mark, "you are wide awake enough now: did you ever hear anything like this before."

"Never," was the prompt reply.

"Ponies no good without me," said the man.

"Why?" cried the boys, in a breath.

"Won't stop with you. Run back to the town to look for me," he said, speaking with some animation now.

"Nonsense!" cried Mark. "We will picket them."

The man laughed, and then as Mark tried to frown him down with a very severe look, he put his hand in his pocket, took out his scissors again, and put them back after a snip, and then looked round at his four companions in turn.

"See here," he said, thrusting two of his fingers into his mouth as he turned sharply away and started off, going swiftly over the ground and leaping almost like an antelope over every bush that came in his way, while he gave vent to a shrill whistle, which he modulated from time to time.

At the first note the ponies raised their heads from where they were cropping the sedge, and at the second, one of the sturdy little fellows uttered a shrill neigh, while at the third note, which turned into a trill, the little animals dashed off at a canter, scattering the sandy earth behind them as they tore after the utterer of the cheery sounds.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

MAKING A FORELOPER.

Dean's jaw fell, and he stood staring after the strange visitor with so vacant an expression of countenance that in spite of his annoyance Mark burst into a hearty laugh.

"What are you grinning at?" cried Dean angrily.

"Your phiz. Why, whatever does that fellow call himself?"

"A horse stealer!" cried Dean excitedly. "That's what he meant by coming last night."

"Yes," cried Mark. "Come on and fetch them back."

"All right, sir," said Buck; "but how? You'd want a rifle to fetch him down."

"Hullo! What does this mean?" cried Sir James, as he joined them, with the doctor. "Why are the ponies being driven away?"

"That fellow!" cried Mark wildly. "A thief, father!"

"To be sure," said Sir James. "But this is a trick. We have been imposed upon."

"Yes, father. This is the chap that crawled up in the dark, and I took for a lion. He's a horse stealer."

"Well, the law will soon set that right."

"Yes," said the doctor, "but it means a long tramp back to the town."

"Say, Dan, old chap, this 'ere's a rum game," whispered Buck. "What do you think of it?"

"Think I should like to get hold of that long-legged 'un. I'd make him sing to a different tune instead of giving us another specimen of his whistlin'."

By this time the ponies were far down the track, headed by their strange visitor, whom the boys had fully expected from moment to moment to see leap upon one of his companion's backs.

"Well," said Mark, "this is getting up for a refresher before breakfast!"

"Yes, sir," said Buck. "It's about spoilt mine. Why didn't you bring him down last night, Mr Mark? I am sure he desarved it."

"No, he didn't," cried the lad addressed. "Look at that! I say, father, hooray! He's come back."

The boy was quite right, for it was plain enough now, distant as the objects were, to see in the clear bright morning their nocturnal visitor describe a curve upon the open country side and, slackening his pace, begin trotting back, the little drove of ponies dropping from their canter into a steady trot, coming nearer and nearer till their leader brought them to where the party had camped for the night; and here they drew up short and began to crop the tender green shoots again, while the strange visitor, who did not seem in the slightest degree out of breath, drew his long pendent moustachios through his hands.

"Well, sir," said Sir James sharply, "pray, what does this mean?"

"Mean?" said the man sadly. "Ponies—know me."

"So it seems," said Sir James; "but I've bought them."

"Yes," said the man, in his most melancholy tone.

"Well, what were you going to say by way of explanation?"

"Nothing."

"Well, what do you want?"

"Breakfast."

"That's what he said before," cried Dean.

"Hungry," said the man, quite reproachfully.

The doctor laughed, and the rest joined in chorus, Dan beginning to stamp about in the exuberance of his delight.

"Beg pardon, gentleman," he said, checking himself suddenly, "but he do set me off."

"But the worst of it is, my man," said the doctor, "that this is resolving itself into no laughing matter."

"No, sir," said Buck respectfully. "There's more cry about him than laugh."

"Yes," said Mark sharply. "If you had been here and heard him talk it would have sounded to you as if he had come for help because he was ill."

"Well, whatever is done," said Sir James, "we must give the poor fellow some breakfast, and follow it up with a few shillings, or we shall be having him putting a stop to our expedition."

"Mind he doesn't hear what you say, father," whispered Mark.

"To be sure," said the doctor. "We mustn't let him realise what a power he has in his hands."

"In his fingers, I think," said Mark.

"And it seems to me," said Sir James, "that he already knows it. Here, what about breakfast? We will talk about it over our morning meal."

They did, with the result that their party was afterwards increased by one who had already proved how he could manage the fresh purchases. And if further inducement were needed it was afforded by Mark, who suddenly exclaimed, "I've got it, doctor!"

"Got what?"

"This fellow can manage ponies splendidly."

"Well, we know that," said the doctor drily.

"Yes," continued Mark; "but why couldn't a man who can manage dumb animals like that be quite at home with bullocks?"

"Good boy," said Sir James. "There is something in that. You mean, for him to take the place of the bullock leader—fore—what you call him."

"Loper, father."

"Yes. Is there any connection between loper and leaper, doctor?" continued Sir James.

"I cannot say on the instant. It wants thinking out, sir. Antelope— loper—leaper."

"Well, never mind that," said Sir James. "But if he can manage the bullocks too that is an additional reason why he should stay."

"But he is such a dismal, unhappy sort of fellow," protested Mark.

"Yes, boy, but he can be very useful to us though not very ornamental," said the doctor.

"No, sir," said Dean, "I believe that the oxen would take fright at him."

"Use is second nature, Dean," said Mark.

"What do you think little Dan said about him just now?" said Dean.

"Can't say, of course," said his uncle. "What did he say?"

"That he was all shadow and flam."

"Yes," cried Mark; "and Buck Denham compared him to a human skeleton on stilts. I don't like him; but I suppose we shall get used to him in time."

"Tut, tut, tut!" ejaculated Sir James. "Don't trifle, boys; this is a serious matter. Here, Mark, go and tell Buck Denham that I want to speak to him."

The man came up, looking very serious, and shaking his head.

"Very sorry, sir," he said, before Sir James could speak, "but I have just been having it over with that other little black, and he tells me that his mate came to him after the scare about the lion, and said he would not go any further, and went off at once."

"Oh," said Sir James. "Well, this is your business, doctor. I said I wouldn't interfere. You are captain. You had better tell Denham what we have been talking about."

"Yes. Look here, my man; we have come to the conclusion that this fellow would be very useful with the ponies."

"Yes, sir?"

"And I want to ask you whether you think he could take the foreloper's place as well?"

"Well, sir," said the man, with a grim smile, "he doesn't look much like one, certainly, and I don't believe he knows anything about it."

"But couldn't you train him?"

"Oh, yes, I could train him, sir. I don't think the beasts would take to him all at once, but it seems to me the queshtun is would he do it?"

"I shall make that the condition as to his staying," said the doctor firmly.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

IN MID-VELDT.

"I know what I shall do," said Dean, as they prepared for their morning start, during which he had been thoughtfully watching the helpful way in which their new attendant loaded the ponies, over which he seemed to have the most perfect command.

"Well, what shall you do?" said his cousin.

"Learn that whistle, and manage the ponies myself."

"Humph!" grunted Mark. "That will be no good as long as that dreary fellow is near them."

"I say," said Dean, as he and his cousin were tramping along in the rear, gazing eagerly about to the right and left of the track, thoroughly enjoying the beauty of the scenery, and looking out the while for something that might be a pleasant addition to their next meal.

"Well, what do you say? That you don't see any game?"

"No," said Dean. "I want you to look at black Mak."

"Well, what of him? I think he's as dingy black a nigger as ever I saw. Not a bit like those flat-nosed woolly-headed fellows that we used to see at home."

"I don't mean that."

"What do you mean, then?" said Mark impatiently.

"That he seems so sour and surly, as different as can be from what he was yesterday. We didn't do anything to give him offence. Let's see; what did we do yesterday and the day before to hurt his feelings?"

"I don't know," said Mark. "I did nothing. What did you do?"

"Nothing," replied Dean. "He was as jolly and smiling as could be till last night; and see how he helped about the scare. Now, I tell you what I think."

"Oh, I wish you wouldn't think so much," cried Mark. "It makes you seem so slow and sleepy! Well, what do you think?"

"I think he is jealous of the new man."

"Right. He doesn't like the look of him—thinks he's a bad colour, neither black nor white. You are right, Dean. I saw him scowling at him, now you mention it. Well, we shall have to look out and tell Buck Denham that there must be no quarrelling. If they don't agree he must take them both by the scruff and knock their heads together."

"Oh, but that will all blow over," said Dean, "I daresay. There's nothing for them to disagree over, because this Brown will have his own work to do."

"And black Mak has nothing to do but look on," put in Mark, laughing.

"You forget one thing," said Dean; "he has to carry his spear."

"Yes, spear," said Mark eagerly; "and that sets one thinking. That spear is precious sharp."

"How do you know?"

"He showed it to me, and seemed as proud of it as could be."

"Well, what then?"

"Why, it would be very nasty if they quarrelled and came to a fight. What chance would Mr Staches have, only armed with a small pair of scissors?"

The days wore on, one strongly resembling another, and though the black guide stalked about like a superintendent and was rather given to scowl at the forelopers, he every now and then unbent from his savage dignity, and was always the best of friends with the boys. In fact, upon occasions when he was marching along with them beside the bullocks, or by them when they were mounted on a couple of ponies, he would even unbend so far as to allow one of them to carry his spear, evidently as a great favour and a mark of honour.

"Treats it," said Mark merrily, "as if it were his sceptre."

But there was no suggestion of quarrelling, and the man was seen at his best and full of smiles when, as the bullocks plodded sluggishly along, hunting excursions were made off to the right or left of the trail—a trail which the party formed for themselves, for the old ones soon died out—the new one being formed as to direction by their guide himself. He selected the most open country, and pointed out with his spear some distant object for which Buck Denham was to make, and when it was reached in the evening it was invariably found to be a spot where there was a good supply of water and food for the cattle.

So far from there being any quarrelling on the side of Brown—Dunn Brown, as to their great amusement he told the boys was his full name, Dunn from his mother, and Brown from his father—the long, thin, peculiar looking fellow settled down as calmly as if he had been in Sir James's service half his life.

He was a kind and careful tender of the ponies, and after a few displays of awkwardness which Buck Denham corrected in the most friendly way, he was soon quite at home with the bullocks.

"Why, the great lumbering, fat, stupid brutes are beginning quite to know him, gentlemen, and I should not be at all surprised if one of these days we find him whistling to them and making them come to him like the ponies."

As the party journeyed on day after day farther and farther from civilisation, the expedition was all that could be desired. Game was plentiful and the two keepers were quite in their element, so that the larder was well stocked, and they took care that there was plenty of sport for the two lads whenever the waggons' course was marked down and the little party, trusting to the drivers to make their way to the given point, struck off in a different direction so as to make a detour and meet at their appointed centre before night.

The ponies enabled their riders to get many a shot at the several varieties of antelope—boks, as they were generally called—while as game was so abundantly plentiful, the boys were asked by the doctor what they would seek for that day when they would sometimes decide on devoting one barrel of their double guns to small shot, the other in case of danger being loaded with a bullet. Then they would make the Illaka understand what they required, and he would lead them to where there was abundance of a large kind of partridge, or francolin, which was delicious eating; or take them to some place at the edge of the forest where he knew from experience that the harsh, metallic-voiced, speckled guinea-fowl would be coming home to roost.

This would always be when the supply of the larder was very low, and then, with the two keepers to load, a heavy bag would invariably be made, and a pretty good odour of burning feathers pervade the camp.

Camp was formed one night with all the precautions made such as were customary in the part of the world through which they were travelling, so as to carefully secure the draught animals and the ponies, for however peaceful and free from danger the country might seem, the black always marched about shouldering his spear and watching that this was done, while after noting how careful the man was, the doctor gave him a few words of praise and left these precautions to him, while these safeguards always included the collecting of a supply of wood sufficient to keep up a good blazing fire till morning.

"I suppose this is all right," said Mark, who was extra tired and had several times yawned widely after partaking of an ample supper, "but all these days we have been travelling farther and farther into the depth of the country we haven't seen a single big beast, let alone a lion."

"Only the one you shot at, Mark," said his cousin.

"You don't seem as if you could forget about my mistake, Dean," said Mark peevishly. "Here, I think I shall lie down and go to sleep."

"And forget all about its being your turn to take first watch?" said the doctor, smiling.

"What, again?" cried the boy peevishly, "Oh, how soon the nights do come round! Well, I don't have to go on duty for hours yet, so I shall have my nap first. But I say, doctor, I thought that we should always be seeing lions and elephants and giraffes, besides rhinoceroses, which would come charging at the waggons whenever they saw them."

"I daresay you did," said the doctor quietly.

"And here we haven't seen one—nothing but those little—well, some of them were big—bucks."

"Why, we saw a drove of zebras the other day."

"Yes, we did see them," replied Mark. "But I wanted to have a shot at an elephant or a giraffe."

"Yes; I suppose you expected to find South Africa a sort of over-abundant Zoological Gardens."

"No, I didn't," said Mark; "but I did expect that as soon as we began burning fires to keep off the wild beasts, there would be some to keep off."

"Patience, my dear boy; patience. We have only come a little way into the country as yet."

"A little way!" cried Mark. "Why, you forget, doctor, how many weary days we have been tramping since we left the soldiers' station."

"Oh, no, I do not, my dear boy. It is a very little way compared with the vastness of this great solid continent. We have not seen a lion yet, but that does not show that we may not have been passing through open country where they are abundant; and very likely if we had omitted to start this blazing fire to-night we might have had a visit from several."

"I vote, then," cried Mark, whose sleepy fit seemed to have passed over, "that we put the fire out with a few buckets of water and then sit up and watch."

"No," said Sir James drowsily; "I forbid it. You are not going to allow that, doctor?"

"Certainly not, sir; and even if I felt so disposed the black would not allow it. You must be patient, Mark. I dare say we shall meet with more wild beasts than we care for before long, and wild men too."

"I am ready," said Mark, rather bumptiously; "but I am disappointed, all the same."

"Yes," said the doctor, "no doubt you are; but you must curb your impatience till we reach the part of the country where the lions are. I thought you were going to have your nap."

"No," said Mark; "Dean and I are going to have a chat with the men. Dance says he wouldn't have believed there could have been so many 'come backs' in all the world—I say, what's that?" he cried. "That wasn't a lion?"

"No," said the doctor, for a long, low, dismal and penetrating howl had gone out upon the night.

"What is it, then? There it goes again."

"I form my own idea of what it is," said the doctor. "You two can go and tell the men to throw some more wood on the fire."

He had hardly spoken when the low and doleful howl rang out again from the distance, and the fire blazed up under the influence of an armful of dead boughs which the Hottentot and the black foreloper had just thrown on, the clear, bright flame showing out the big, heavy figure of Buck Denham and lighting up his face as he turned round to tell the men to bring up more wood for the night supply.

The boys sprang up from where they were seated, and hurried round to the other side of the blazing heap where their men had gathered together to sit and have their evening smoke.

"Hear that howling?" cried Mark. "You, Pete—Bob—"

"Yes, sir; we couldn't help it," said the latter. "I was asking Buck Denham what it was, thinking it was one of them great tom cats; but he says it's only a hy-he—something."

"Hyhaena, my lad—hyhaena."

"Yes, that's it. Well, it made noise enough for t'other, didn't it?"

"Made noise enough for t'other!" growled the driver. "You wait till you hear the real thing, and you won't ask questions again like that."

Dance took his pipe out of his mouth and opened his eyes, for he too had grown drowsy in the warmth of the fire, after his long day's tramp.

"I 'eerd it too, and thought it must be a big howl a-howling. You have got howls out here, haven't you, mate?"

"Oh, yes; plenty. But that's what I said."

The big driver having noted that the men had brought up a plentiful supply of wood sufficient to keep up the beast-scaring beacon, subsided heavily in the full light of the fire and began to fill his pipe.

"Now you two," he said to the Hottentot and the foreloper, "just take a quiet walk round the bullocks, and then you can come back and smoke your pipe of peace."

The Hottentot's voice sounded very unpleasant and very clicky as he replied sharply, and though it was almost unintelligible Mark made out from it and the driver's answers that Dunn Brown was already performing that duty.

"Oh," said Buck, "then you needn't go. That will be all right. Well, Illaka, aren't you coming to sit down?" For the boys suddenly noticed the black shadowy figure of the guide glide into the firelight, his appearance being emphasised by a flash where the flame played upon the polished leaf-shaped blade of his spear.

The man nodded, shook his head, and disappeared again.

"What sort of fish do you think there are out in the river here?" asked Bob Bacon.

"I don't know their names," said Buck Denham quietly, as he went on filling his pipe very slowly; and the two boys sat down one on either side, pricking up their ears at the words "river" and "fish."

The big driver leaned forward, drew out an incandescent piece of wood and quite ceremoniously held it to the bowl of his pipe.

"I don't think you will find any trout," he said, "like you have at home, but there's plenty of fish there, I should say, just as there is lower down near Illakaree, and up here I should reckon there's plenty to fish for."

"Ah!" cried Mark eagerly, as he glanced round at the picturesque group seated in the full blaze of the fire, while the reflections played upon the dark edge of the forest, piercing the great overhanging branches from among which a few startled birds dashed out, winged their way round the circle of light and disappeared again.

"Look, Dean; isn't it beautiful now!"

"Thought you wanted to go to sleep," said his cousin.

"Not I! I leave that to you."

"Yes," continued the big driver, repeating his words, "and I should say there's plenty up here to fish for."

"I say, Buck, are there so many blacks about here, then?"

"Sometimes, sir."

"And do they go fishing?"

"No, sir; they may do, but I don't know as I ever saw a black go fishing. You've been to 'Stralia, Dan; do the black fellows out there fish much?"

"Much?" said Dan, showing his white teeth. "Yes, and hunt and knock the big kangaroos over with their nulla-nullas and boomerangs. Wittles are precious scarce there, and they have had a hard time of it to get enough grub, and I suppose that's why they pick holes in the softy wood trees to get the big fat grubs out of them."

"Ugh! Horrid!" said Dean.

"No, sir," said Dean, smiling. "It don't sound nice, but I know a little about cooking, and when them 'Stralian grubs are nicely cooked over the fire they are not to be sneezed at. There's another thing too that's very nice eating, baked or roasted, and that's a locus', and I shouldn't wonder if you could find them out here, for they come in clouds up in the north and eat everything they find."

"Well, don't cook any for us, Dan," said Mark.

"There's no need, sir, with such a good supply of venison, as you gents call it, and game birds."

"But I should like you to try your hand with the frying-pan and some fish."

"You catch the fish, Mr Mark, sir, and leave it to me, and I'll promise to fry it to rights, egged and crumbed and all."

"What!" cried Dean.

"Well, no, that arn't right, sir. Allers speak the truth, Dan, my boy, my grandmother used to say; and I will if I can. I could clean and scale and egg the fish to rights. We can get plenty of them comebacks' eggs, but the crumbing of them would rather bother me, and I should have to do it with mealie flour."

There was a short silence as the men sat smoking, and then Mark broke out with, "We will have a try for some fish; but who is it does the fishing up here, then, Buck?"

The big driver chuckled, and his eyes twinkled in the firelight.

"The whoppers, sir."

"The whoppers!"

"Yes, sir; the crocs. I daresay if you went down by the river and listened just at daybreak you would hear them at it, flapping the river with their tails to stun the fish."

"But that wouldn't stun the fish," cried Dean. "Oh, come, I say, what a traveller's tale!" And Mark laughed as if agreeing with his cousin.

"Well, it may be a traveller's tale, sir, but if you was there you'd see the fish come to the top upside down, I mean, white side up'ards, and the crocs shovelling them down as fast as you like. That's all I know about it."

"But is that true, Buck?"

"Yes, sir; true enough, for I have seen it. I wouldn't tell you a tale like that without letting you know it was a bam-bam afterwards."

"Ah, well, I'll believe you, Buck. Ugh! Listen! What's that? Did you ever hear anything so horrible in your life! Somebody's being killed. There it is again! There!"



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

"DON'T WAKE THE WRONG MAN."

"What are you laughing at, Buck?"

"You, sir," cried the man. "You'll get more used to our noises in time."

"Then it's that horrible brute of a hyaena again. What a doleful howl! Sounds just as if it was crying after its mother."

"But that isn't it, sir. He's howling after his supper."

A short time after Mark caught sight of the doctor approaching, grasped the sign he gave him, sprang up, and went to the waggon for his rifle, which he carefully loaded, and then began his solitary watch, which seemed less wearisome on this occasion as he paraded to and fro and round and round in the silence of the sleeping camp. Every now and then he heard some startling sound, and ever and anon he listened to the hyaena's wail, turning at times into what sounded like a mocking laugh. Now and again too there was a cracked trumpet-like cry from the river, but neither was this startling, as he had learned to know it as the call of some night-hunting stork or crane.

Once or twice his finger went to the trigger of his piece involuntarily, for it seemed to him that the loathsome animal that had hung about the camp was creeping closer in search of food; but the fire just then sprang up as the result of more fuel being thrown upon it, scaring away the foul beast, for after a few words with the Hottentot and the foreloper before they went back to their shelter beneath the leading waggon, he heard the hyaena no more.

The next event that enlivened the wearisome watch was a visit from the doctor, to whom the lad made his report, which was followed by a short chat.

"You won't be sorry to be relieved, Mark, my boy," he said. "You remember, of course, that Peter Dance is to relieve you, so don't wake the wrong man."

"I shan't make any mistake," replied Mark confidently; and then he was alone once more, taking a turn or two about the camp, listening to the night cries again, and enjoying the confidence given to him by the knowledge that there was nothing in them that he need fear.

For the most part he kept to one particular spot, where he could stand and listen, at the same time keeping his eyes fixed upon the glowing fire, comforted as it were by its social, friendly look as of a companion which he could trust to ward off danger; and when he felt disposed he could walk up to it near enough to let its light fall upon the strong silver hunting watch whose case flew open at the pressure upon the spring, perhaps not so often as might have happened under the circumstances.

Somehow a sleeper accustomed to a certain duty is ruled by some natural impulse to awaken almost to a minute if in the habit of rising to perform that task, and here Mark roused himself from a train of dreamy thought to make another journey towards the fire and bend down to look at his watch.

"Hurrah!" he said to himself. "Ten minutes to two. Just time to throw on some wood, and rouse up old Peter."

He stood to listen for a minute or two, and then caught up one of the rough armfuls of wood laid ready for the purpose, threw it on the fire, and then hurried to the men's waggon and roused the keeper.

"Who is it? You, Mr Mark, sir?"

"Yes. Jump up."

"Where did you hear 'em?" said the man. "In the long coppice, or down by the ten acres?"

"Hear whom?" said Mark.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. I was dreaming that I was at home and that you had come to tell me that you had heard poachers. All right, sir," said the man, creeping into the shadow after getting his rifle. "You've got the fire going, then?"

"Yes, but you had better throw on another armful soon."

"Oh, yes, sir; all right. All been quiet?"

"Yes, except that howling brute; but I haven't heard him for the last hour. You are quite awake, aren't you?"

"Awake, sir? Oh, yes," said the man, shouldering his piece and walking beside his young master to the other waggon.

"Good-night," said Mark. "I can hardly keep my eyes open now."

"Same here," muttered the man, as Mark climbed to his resting-place, so heavily assailed by sleep that he was hardly conscious of his words.

Then all was silent but for the heavy breathing of the sleepers and an occasional stamp from one of the picketed ponies.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

A PRETTY DANCE.

It was not a feather-bed; there was neither bolster nor pillow; and a single blanket laid across three sacks of Indian corn did not counteract the hard nubbly feeling. But a couple more blankets drawn over the lad right up to his chin thoroughly kept off the crisp coolness of the air on the high plateau of a country where the sun was broiling by day. Youth, health, exercise and an open-air life did the rest to make that sleeping place a perfect Elysium.

Add to the above a long watch in the darkness, and it is not surprising that as Mark Roche stretched out his legs to the fullest extent as he lay upon his back, he uttered a low, long, soft "Hah-h-h!" and the next instant was fast asleep.

How long that lasted he could not tell, but he half awoke; better still, one may say he only one quarter awoke bodily; mentally he was so to speak soaked, saturated with sleep, and his waking was only into a kind of confusion out of which he could not rouse himself.

All he knew was that something was dreadfully wrong—when—how—where— he could not make out.

There was a great noise going on, and the darkness was something horrible. This seemed to last for a long time—seemed only, and he began to struggle as if a heavy body was lying on him and pressing him down.

It was like some terrible nightmare, and as he struggled against it he threw out his arms, half fancying that he was fighting to save himself from being suffocated in a flood that was not liquid but solid and hard. Then one hand came in contact with something soft, which he realised to be a human face, and then just a faint ray of understanding flashed through his muddled brain and he knew where he was, and that the face must be his cousin's.

Then the mental darkness closed in again and he was as confused as ever. The noise went on, and he could not tell what it was till after a short interval another ray of light dawned upon him and he caught at and shook his companion, who was sharing the sacks, and sleeping so hard that Mark's attempts to rouse him were in vain.

And then speech came, and the boy found himself muttering aloud, though it seemed to be somebody else talking. But now the power to put that and that together to some extent grew stronger.

"Oh, Dean, how you do sleep!" came from somewhere. "Here, wake up!" And he grew a little better, for he felt that his lips were touching his cousin's warm ear, while now it was another voice that said drowsily, "What's the matter?"

"Ah! that's better," the other voice ejaculated, and he heard it plainly, though it was partially smothered by the awful confusion of strange sounds that came as it were from a distance. "Oh, how dark!"

And he knew now that it was his own voice, for he was rapidly shaking off the strange feeling of mental torpidity.

"Father! Dr Robertson! Are you there?"

His words came back to him as if his face was covered with something thick, while he fully grasped the idea now that the noise that smote his ears was somewhere far away.

"I don't know what's the matter," he muttered. "Am I ill? It can't be a dream. Here, Dean, wake up!"

"What's the matter?" came again drowsily.

"I want you to listen."

"Bother! Will in the morning."

"Oh, how can you be so stupid!"

Mark was rapidly recovering now.

Snore!

"Will you wake up?" And this was accompanied by a shake.

"Be quiet! Want me to hit you on the nose?"

"Yes, and I want you to shake me. I'm—I'm—oh, I don't know how I feel—yes, I do," added the boy, as the power of thinking and acting now grew stronger. "Dean!"

"Oh, bother!" cried his cousin. "Now then, what is it?" And in the darkness Mark felt his hand shaken off, and from the movement knew that his cousin had risen up into a sitting position sharply and banged himself down again, the noise he made being followed instantly by a loud snore.

"Dean!" cried Mark again, renewing his attack, and this time giving the sleeper a violent shake, which roused him again.

"Now then, what is it?"

"Listen! Do you hear that dreadful noise?"

"No-o!" came sleepily. "What is it?"

The question was asked through two folds of blanket, and naturally sounded woolly.

"Lions, I think."

"Tell them to lie down."

"Oh, don't be such a fool!"

"Nogoinabe. Wha' time is it? Goo' night."

"Dozey! Oh, you sleepy old dormouse! I am sure there is something dreadful going on. We are in danger."

"Lem dange. Here, tell the doctor. Don' wake uncle, nor me."

"Oh, dear, what shall I do!" said Mark, half aloud. "Oh, my head! My head! This must be—yes, I remember; I am in the waggon—here, Dean! Dean!" And he began shaking his cousin again.

"Don't! Don't!" And there was the sound of the boy's bare feet kicking, and a snatch made as if to draw back the blankets that had been sent flying. "Oh, I will serve you out for—here, what do you want?"

"You to wake up. Can't you see how dark it is?"

"Dark?"

"Yes; quite black."

Dean was wide awake now.

"Yes, everything's as black as black."

"Well, did you expect it to be white?"

"Can't you hear that dreadful noise?"

"Yes. What is it? Oh, I am so sleepy! Uncle snoring."

"There it is again!" cried Mark wildly.

"Well, I don't care," cried Dean angrily, and he dragged his blankets over his head. "Hullo! I say! There's something the matter;" and the boy now rose to his knees. "Here, where are the guns?"

"I don't know. Yes, I do," cried Mark, feeling about. "I have got one—yes—here's yours. Let's get to the door."

"No, stop. Listen!" and Dean caught his cousin by the arm. "It's a lion. I'm sure of it."

"So am I," cried Mark—"a dozen of them. Oh, Dean, Dean! Hark at the poor bullocks! They are pulling them down, and they'll be killing those ponies. Here, let go."

"What are you going to do?"

"Going outside to shoot."

"No, no; don't do that, or we shall have them springing in here."

"But—"

"There, you needn't go now. There's somebody else shooting." For a couple of reports came from somewhere in the direction of where the fire kept burning, and then another, followed by a confused noise of bellowing oxen, trampling feet, and the deep-toned, barking roar of a lion, which dominated everything else.

"Here, Mark," cried Dean in a hoarse whisper, clinging to his cousin now tightly, "we are attacked by lions."

"Seems like it," was the reply. "Where are father and the doctor?"

"I don't know. I would say let's shout, only it would be like asking the savage animals to come."

"But we must do something. Are you loaded?" And as Mark spoke there was the sound of his raising the cocks of his piece.

"No. My hand shakes so. That's better. I could hardly do it. I say, don't you feel frightened, Mark?"

"Horribly. But look sharp. Are you ready? Let's jump out together, and then fire."

"All right. Ready now. I wish I didn't feel in such a shiver. Here, I'm ready. Perhaps it will scare the brutes."

"Hope so," said Mark, as he drew aside the folds of the tilt and crouched by the waggon chest ready to spring. "Hooray! There's somebody shouting. Now then; take hold of my hand. Let's jump together."

There was a double thud, as the boys sprang out into the darkness.

"Now then—ready?"

"Yes," cried Dean, firmly now, as soon as he had made his desperate plunge into danger.

"Fire!"

Bang! Bang!

"Again!" cried Mark, and directly after there was the repetition of the reports and the rustling sound of replacing the empty cartridges.

"Hi, there!" came in a voice from out of the darkness, sounding distant. "Is that you boys?"

"Yes, doctor," cried Mark. "Where's father?"

"Here, my boy. Where's your cousin?"

"I'm here, uncle."

"Good. But you two fellows ought to have stopped in the waggon."

Directly after Sir James and the doctor joined them, and a couple more shots came from a distance, in the direction where the thundering beat of hoofs was beginning to die away, and then shots again, followed by a hideous snarling and roaring, as if very near at hand several lions were quarrelling like angry cats over their prey.

"Ahoy, there!" shouted the doctor.

"Ahoy!" came from two places in the distance.

"Rally here," cried the doctor, as loud as he could shout. "Up here by the waggon!"

This was followed by the beating of feet upon the thick grass, and all the time the trampling of oxen grew more distant, while the savage snarling went on and was punctuated in the darkness every now and then by a deep-toned bark.

"This way," cried the doctor. "Come on!"

The boys' hearts beat hard at this, for the doctor's words were answered by a chorus of snarls from what Mark judged now to be a portion of the forest not many yards away; and involuntarily the boys raised their rifles to their shoulders as they glanced to right and left, trying to make out through the darkness whether the way was clear for a shot.

"Hadn't we better fire again, father?"

"No," said the doctor sharply, from close at hand. "The men are rallying, and we may hit somebody."

"Yes," said Sir James quickly.

"And besides," continued the doctor, "if we fire at where that snarling comes from it will be answered by a rush. The brutes can see in this horrid darkness."

"What are they doing?" asked Dean.

"They have pulled down a bullock, boys, and they are quarrelling over it. Can't you hear? Oh, this darkness!" cried the speaker, and he gave—so the sound indicated—a stamp of one foot.

"Is the boss there?" cried a gruff voice.

"Yes, this way, Denham," said the doctor. "Mind the lions."

"Oh, I hear them, sir. Anyone hurt?"

"I hope not," replied the doctor, as the man came nearer, rustling through the grass. "Where are your men?"

Oomph! Oomph! Oomph! came in a deep-toned roar, followed by a chorus of snarls.

"Old 'uns and young 'uns," said Denham, subduing his voice a little. "They don't like our being so near. I expect my chaps have shinned up the trees somewhere. That's what they would do, gentlemen; and old Brown has used those long legs of his to put him miles away by this time."

"But have you heard anything of my two men?" asked Sir James—"Dance and Bacon?"

"I've 'eard them letting go with their rifles, sir."

"And what about Dan?"

"Oh, I haven't heard anything of him, sir."

"Ahoy!" came in the little sailor's well known voice, from somewhere in the darkness.

"Ahoy!" cried the boys together.

Roo—oomph! Roo—oomph! Roo—oomph! issued from the spot that had now grown familiar.

"Steady, gentlemen—steady! All cats have got the savage on strong when they are at work at their grub. Wait a bit. Let's get the others together, and then we'll give the brutes a volley as near as we can."

"Cooey! Cooey!" came out of the darkness.

"This way! Here!" shouted Buck Denham.

Roo—oomph! Roo—oomph! Roo—oomph! came now, with a fiercer roar than ever, which roused the lion's companions to utter a furious burst of snarls.

"Cooey! Cooey!" came again.

"All right, mate," said the big driver, in a low voice. "You must find your own way now. That last bit of tongue meant, look out for squalls."

"Anybody hurt?" came in a well known voice now from close at hand, and Dan hurried up.

"I think not, Dan," whispered Mark, and then he stretched out his hand and felt for the little sailor. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir. I fired off all my cartridges."

"Here's someone else coming, gentlemen," said Denham, in a low, deep tone. "They are your two lads, I think."

"Yes," cried Dean eagerly. "Nobody else would have cried cooey, unless it was little Dan."

"Yes, I might, but I didn't to-night; I have been too busy."

"That you, Peter. Where's Bob Bacon?"

"Me, Mr Mark, sir?" said the latter. "Here I am, as large as life. We have been at it pretty warm. But I want it to grow light, to see if we can retrieve any of the game."

"Yah! Ain't 'it anything," growled Buck Denham.

"But where's Peter? I heard two cooeys," said Mark.

"Yes; that was me, sir. I ain't seen him."

"Well, now then, gentlemen," said Buck Denham; "all loaded?"

"'Cept me," said Dan.

"Take these. Here are some cartridges," said Sir James.

"Now then—ready?" said Denham, quite loudly, and there was another burst of roars and snarls. "Thank ye," said Denham; "that's just let us know where abouts to fire. Now, all of you let them have it, as near as you can guess; and fire low. I'd kneel down. I'll just give them a rouse up with a shout. That will make them roar again. Then you, doctor, give the word, and let 'em have it."

"Right," said the doctor.

"Ready, my lads?" whispered Buck.

There was a low murmur of assent, and the driver put one hand to his cheek. "Hullo, there, you!"

Er—rr—oomph! came in a roar, followed by a snarl; and this time there was a sharp crackling of bushes, as one of the savage beasts made a bound towards them.

It was all guess work, but the volley fired at the advancing brute was followed by a roar from several feline throats and a struggling plunge and trampling amidst the undergrowth, with a fiercer snarling than ever.

"Load again quickly," said the doctor, "and stand firm, my lads."

"Ay, we've got to," added Denham. "I was in hopes that those shots would have scared them; but one of them has got it pretty warm." For the violent kicking and tearing amidst the bushes went on, supplemented by the snarling and growling of the hidden beasts.

"How long is it to morning?" asked the doctor in a whisper.

"Good two hours, I should say, sir."

"Then we had better retreat to the waggons before the savage brutes take courage and come on at us."

"They won't attack, sir, as long as they have got that bullock there, unless we go near. Now, if we had only got a light we could rouse up that fire—hullo!"

For all at once, as if the man's words had been heard, there was a soft crackling amidst the embers where the fire should have been blazing, and faintly illuminated by a glow from the earth, the watchers caught sight of the face of the Illaka, looking strange and ruddy, while as the black stirred up the ashes with the haft of his spear there was enough life in them to emit a bluish golden flame which caught the twigs he threw on. The light cast upon him increased, and in a few minutes he had augmented the fire by throwing on armfuls of wood, till there was a fierce blaze which lit up the edge of the forest and made the waggons and their tilts show up as if of gold.

"Well done, Mak!" cried Denham. "That will do more than all our shooting. More wood—all you can."

The black understood him, and as snarl after snarl came from out of the forest the dry wood blazed up and the growling grew less and less.

"They're a-sneaking off, sir," said the big driver, "and I think you might give them another shot or two to hurry them."

"All together," said the doctor sharply. "Ready! Fire!"

The flashes from the mouths of the rifles looked slight in the glow of the flames, and the reports rang out loudly, to be followed by a fierce yell and a snarling roar, as, feeling awestricken by what was taking place, the boys pictured to themselves amidst the low growth the huge lion tearing about in its rage and pain.

"I'd keep quiet, gentlemen," whispered Buck. "One of us has hit another, and if he made out where we were he might charge."

The man ceased speaking as the tearing and raging about of the wounded beasts went on, but evidently growing more distant, till their snapping and snarling were almost drowned by the fierce, loud crackling of the burning fire.

"It's crawling away," whispered Mark excitedly.

"Yes, sir. He's got it," replied the driver; "but I would keep quiet, or we may bring him back to pay us."

For some minutes no one spoke, while the fire was freshly fed by the black, who looked almost diabolical as he danced about it in a strange way, ending by approaching the group, who crouched behind some bushes, which would have made but a frail breastwork had one of the lions charged.

A quarter of an hour must have elapsed before anyone spoke again, and during that time the crackling of the burning wood, which now lit up a wide circle, was the only sound that was heard.

"Do you think we may move now, Denham?" said the doctor. "Or would you fire a few more charges?"

"I don't want to waste powder and shot, sir, and I think they are all gone. Here, Mak, my lad, lions gone?"

The black made no reply, but came cautiously close up and listened.

"Come," he said, and in obedience to his brief command Buck, the doctor, and Bob Bacon ranged themselves with presented rifles on either side, and, not to be outdone, the two boys ran forward to join the advancing party as well.

The spot where the feline marauders had been busy over their prey was not above sixty yards from the last waggon, and as the little party advanced, gaining confidence from the silence that reigned, and reducing the distance to about half, gazing searchingly the while at what looked like a breastwork of leaves lit up by the fire, the silence seemed to be awful, and as if moved by one impulse all stopped short at the end of another ten yards.