"So have I, messmate."

"Ah," said Buck, "I'm afraid it's all over with the poor old governor. Fine old English gentleman he was."

"Ay," said Dan, "and the poor doctor too. Talk about a man, Buck—they don't build many craft like him. Thorough gentleman down to the ground, and all the same a regular working man too. If there's anything he couldn't do it's because it arn't been invented yet. My word, messmate, what a skipper he would have made! I should just like to have gone through life as his first mate."

"Ah," said Buck, "well, we shan't be long before we know the worst. Look! Here they come, yelling and shouting and singing welcome home to our lot. Now, what's it going to be next?"

"Ah, that's what I want to know," said Dan. "They arn't cannyballs, or it would mean a big fire and a wholesale roast."

"Haw, haw!" ejaculated the big fellow, in a dismal attempt at a laugh. "Why, they will be making you cook, Danny. Well, if they do, put me out of my misery first, and good luck to 'em! They will find me pretty tough. I know what I should like to do, Dan. I have been wishing that I was a nigger like our Mak. He is just like a heel. No matter what happens he's always able to slip out of the way. But just now I don't wish I was a nigger. I should just like to be one of them Malay kris chaps, get my arm set free, and then run amuck."

"What's the good of that, messmate? They'd only spear you at last."

"Well, I should have sarved some of them out for what they've done to the boss and the doctor, and what they are a-going to do to them two poor lads."

Buck Denham ceased speaking, for a party of about sixty of the Illakas came rushing out, yelling, from the ruins, and brandishing their spears, joining the boys' captors and beginning to indulge in a furious kind of war dance, a savage triumph, in which the prisoners were surrounded and hurried right in amongst the ruins to the opening of the kraal, and where the clearing had been made by the travellers and explorers of the wondrous ruins.

Mark and Dean allowed themselves to be forced unresistingly along, wild-eyed and staring, but not with fear, for self for the time being had no existence in their minds.

Their wildly staring eyes were searching here, there and everywhere for a glimpse of Sir James and the doctor. But they looked in vain.

It is, they say, the unexpected that occurs, for all at once as the prisoners were standing right in the middle of the kraal, surrounded by fully a hundred of the gesticulating, yelling and spear-waving blacks, there was the clattering of hoofs and a shrill and seemingly familiar ear-piercing whistle.

"Look, look!" cried Mark wildly, as a feeling of rage pierced his breast. "Look at him! The coward! He has come to join these wretches' triumph!"

"Ah!" cried Dean excitedly.

"Then he arn't going to stop," growled Buck.

"No," added Dan savagely. "He just ketched sight of me. Oh, if I—"

He got no farther, but stopped in astonishment as great as that of the surrounding blacks, for, whistling loudly as he galloped up on one of the ponies, and followed by the other three, and apparently leading a charmed life, careless too of the threatening spears, Dunn Brown swooped at full speed into and round the kraal, and then away again out of the opening towards the plain to join the advancing line of dust-clothed helmeted men who, raising the genuine old English cheer, were led on by a couple of mounted officers, and the next minute every stone and hillock of the ruins was being occupied; a bugle sounded, and then—Crack! Crack! Crack! every report being repeated scores of times as it rattled amongst the ruined walls. The little peaceful home of the explorers had become a miniature battlefield.

There was a wild yelling and the hurling of spears, as for a few minutes a brave enough resistance was being offered by the savage tribe; but soon there was the peculiar spirit-thrilling metallic rattle of bayonets upon rifles, and then with black figures falling in all directions the company of British infantry swept through the kraal and cleared the little camp to line the great wall, and, taking up this commanding position, to bring down the enemy as they fled.

It was only the work of minutes, and before long the wall at the back of the camp had its coigns of vantage lined, and was sending forth its little puffs of smoke, while Captain Lawton had sprung from his horse, and cut free the prisoners, and was warmly shaking hands with each in turn.

"Thank God, my lads, we are here in time!" he cried. "But your father— the doctor—where are they?" he added. "Don't say that—"

"Hooray!" came faintly, quite a distant cheer, which was answered by the men upon the wall and taken up by every British soldier within hearing, and followed up by the triumphant notes of the bugle as it sounded cease firing—for the fight was at an end.

There was another cheer in the distance, and another, and the boys, whose breasts were still swelling with emotion, doubled by the captain's words—his appealing "Don't say that—" now stared vainly and unable to comprehend why it was that fresh shots were raising the echoes again in the direction of the cavern kopje; and it was not till Buck Denham on one side, Dan Mann on the other, caught Mark, wincing and grimacing with pain from their numbed arms, and pointed, that the truth came home.

Both he and Dean were beginning to have some glimmering of the truth, and then it was enforced by a volley fired from the slope leading down from the cavern.

It was only a little volley fired from four rifles, but it was as if the echoes of the old ruins had multiplied it as being from four thousand.

It was so little, but meant so much, for it was fired by Sir James, the doctor, and the two keepers, who had found a refuge in the old medicine man's sanctuary, which, in spite of fierce besieging, they had managed to hold until the rescue came.



CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

CLEARING UP.

"How did I manage to come to your help?" cried Captain Lawton, as he stood with his fellow countrymen in a group; and when his men had ceased raising the echoes again and again with their exultant cheers, "Why, of course it was through your messenger, who galloped hot foot all the way, changing ponies as they broke down. Cheerful looking chap that, but how he can ride! Ah, here he comes."

For Dunn Brown came into sight, walking towards them slowly, the four ponies following him like dogs.

He came up very quietly, and as those whom he had rescued advanced to meet him, full of expressions of gratitude, there was one who could not speak the words he wished to say. They were something that he had at heart concerning calling Dunn Brown a coward; but he never knew, and for his part, when he had to speak he only looked dismally at those who surrounded him and said, "So—" Then he stopped short to give a gulp, and added, "glad;" but it sounded like a sigh.

He literally sneaked away as soon as he could, to shake hands with Dan and Buck Denham. This however he did with so much energy than Dan yelled and Buck roared, "Murder!"

"Don't!" he cried. "My arms are both coming off. But I say, Brownie, you are the finest foreloper I ever had in my life, and I never expected to see you again. Here, Mr Mark, sir," he cried, as he turned his back suddenly upon the gaunt self-appointed messenger who had saved all their lives, "just take me away somewhere, or I shall break down and blubber like a great girl. Quick, sir, before the soldiers see." Then quickly, and his big voice raised the echoes again from all around—"Have any of you seen anything of my teams—two span, forty-six oxen?"

He was answered by a deep bellowing from out of sight somewhere in the depths of the ruins.

"Hooroar!" cried Buck. "The poor beggars know me, and the niggers haven't ate them all."

"Well, sergeant," said Captain Lawton, "want to speak to me?"

"Yes, captain."

"Well, what have you to report?"

"All has been done as you wished, sir."

"How many prisoners?"

"Only two, sir—a big one and a little; and the little one's a chief, sir. Gold bangles, and a gold band round his head and feathers in it."

"What's that?" cried Mark anxiously.

"Feathers, sir," said the sergeant. "Quite a dwarf."

"Oh!" cried Mark excitedly.

"T'other's a big fellow, sir, about six foot four. Fine-looking chap; but they both had a very narrow escape. Four of our lads came upon them dancing a sort of war dance on the men who had been shot, and I think if our lads had not come up they would have begun spearing."

"But the men did not hurt them?" interposed Mark.

"No, sir," replied the sergeant. "They did not mind being taken a bit. Began laughing and wanted to go on dancing; but our men were a bit too wild. You see, sir, their blood was up after the fight."

"But you are sure they are not hurt?" cried Mark.

"Oh, yes, sir; quite sure, sir."

"They are our friends, Captain Lawton. The big one is your Illaka whom you found for us."

"Oh, that accounts for it," said the captain. "Fetch him here, sergeant."

"And the little one too, sir?"

"Oh, yes," cried Mark. "He is a pigmy chief. They have saved our lives again and again, Captain Lawton."

"And thought nothing of risking their own," put in Dean.

In a few minutes the sergeant was back with the two so-called prisoners, who no sooner caught sight of the boys than failing the spears, which had been taken from them, they flung up their hands and began a dance of triumph which would have gone on for long enough if Mark and Dean had not stopped them, when Mak drew himself up stiffly and made an imitation military salute to the captain, and the pigmy snatched off his gold band and feathers, dropped on all fours, and began rubbing first one cheek and then the other against Mark's feet, just like a cat, as the boy afterwards said.

It was that same night again beneath the stars, and with the walls of the camp guarded—now by military sentries, though there was not the slightest fear of a return of the severely punished and scattered tribe. The two boys were seated with Sir James and the doctor, Captain Lawton having retired with his officer to one of the waggons which had been given up to them, worn out as they were with their forced march made under the guidance of Dunn Brown, when Dan made his appearance to say that Peter Dance and Bob Bacon would be glad if Sir James would see them for a minute.

"Oh, yes, of course," was the reply, and directly afterwards the two men made their appearance.

"Well, Dance? Well, Robert," said Sir James. "What is it?"

The two men looked at one another, then at their master, ending by grinning at Mark and Dean.

"Oh," said Sir James good-humouredly, "it was them you wanted to see, was it?"

"Well, Sir James—" began the elder keeper, and then stopped and looked at Bob.

"Oh, don't hesitate to speak," said Sir James. "Boys, these two brave fellows fought for us like heroes."

"No, no, Sir James," grumbled Peter. "It was Bob Bacon."

"Nay, Sir James," cried Bob sharply. "It was Peter."

"It was both of them," said Sir James sharply, for he was worn out with the excitement of the day. "Peter, after we had got away—the doctor and I both wounded—nursed us both as tenderly as a woman."

"Beg your pardon, Sir James," growled Peter; "not as a woman, sir."

"Well, as good as a woman; and as for Robert Bacon, we should have starved over and over again but for the clever way in which he stole down of a night from the cavern, and never came back without food in some shape or another; eh, doctor?"

"Invariably," replied the gentleman addressed.

"Oh, it warn't anything to make a fuss about, Sir James," said Bob, changing from one foot to the other, and looking very uncomfortable. "I stole lots of it from the waggon."

"Yes," said the doctor, "and risked being speared by the enemy."

"Oh, no, sir, begging your pardon," said Bob modestly. "It was much too dark for that; and the two forelopers as the blacks kept to look after the bullocks always saved me a snack or two for you when one of the beasts was killed."

"Well, thanks to you both, my lads, we did well. Yes, Peter; what is it?"

"I only wanted to say, Sir James," said the keeper, "that—that is, Sir James—here, go on, Bob; you know what we want to say."

"Yes, mate, but now it's come to the point I don't like to say it."

"My good men," said Sir James, "I am too old and tired for all this shilly-shallying. So now then, Robert, tell me what it is you both want to say."

"Yes, Sir James. I will try, Sir James. But you see you have been a good master to us, and now it comes to the point, though we settled it all right together, it don't seem quite fair just now for us to give you warning."

"No," said Sir James, "it does not. But if I take your warning, as you call it, how are you going to get back?"

"Well, sir, Peter thought that we might go back with the soldiers."

"I don't think it would be possible," said the doctor, interposing, "and you must not forsake us now."

"Oh, no, sir; not forsake you, sir. We want to give a month's notice to leave; and we thought that would be quite right. You see, sir, as I said to Peter here, black game don't seem in our way—didn't I, Peter?"

"That's a true word, Bob," said the elder keeper; "and you said, lad, it was all right with pheasants and partridges and a hare now and then—"

"Yes, Sir James and Dr Robertson, and I says to my mate, if I had 'listed, I says, and it was my duty to, I'd pot the niggers as free as anyone, but being only a gamekeeper it don't seem quite the thing."

"Well, doctor," said Sir James, "you hear what these men say. Now I should like to hear your opinion."

"Well, Sir James, I will give it you plainly. As a man with a great love for research I should go away from this ancient place with a feeling of extreme regret—but I must own that we are buying our curios at too dear a rate."

"Thank you, doctor," said Sir James. "Now, boys, what have you to say. Don't both speak at once."

"No, father," said Mark, "I am too ill and weak to do the talking. Dean will say all I want."

"Well, Dean, boy," said Sir James; "speak out frankly. Do you think we ought to stay here, as perhaps we safely might after the lessons the natives have had?"

"No, uncle, I don't; and if the place were a hundred times as tempting as it is I would give up all the curios and the gold sooner than you should run such a risk again."

"Hear, hear, hear!" cried Mark. "But don't think me a coward, doctor, for turning faint-hearted like this."

"You needn't be afraid of that," said the doctor quietly. "What I want to hear is your father's definite opinion upon the question."

"Well, I will give it to you," said Sir James gravely. "As an elderly man who wishes to act wisely, I cannot help feeling that we are intruders in the country of these wild tribes, and we should never be safe."

He paused for a few moments, and his hearers exchanged glances. Then he continued, "Speaking now as your father, Mark, my boy—as your uncle, Dean—I feel that I should not be justified in running any more risks; and lastly, as an old man who wants to behave generously and well to our servants, and those who have risked so much for our sake, I am," he continued, with a twinkle in his eye, "very, very tired; old England was never so dear to me before. There, doctor—there, my dear boys, I want to go home!"

Memorandum: They went home.

THE END