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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Diamond Dyke, by George Manville Fenn
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Diamond Dyke
+       The Lone Farm on the Veldt - Story of South African Adventure
+
+Author: George Manville Fenn
+
+Illustrator: W. Boucher
+
+Release Date: March 13, 2008 [EBook #24821]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DIAMOND DYKE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
+
+
+
+
+Diamond Dyke, by George Manville Fenn.
+
+________________________________________________________________________
+A most authentic-seeming book about the difficulties a pair of young
+Britons faced when they went to South Africa, and set up an ostrich farm
+in the dry and largely empty veldt.  They had a married couple of the
+locals to help them, and of these the man wasn't much use.  They also
+had a most sagacious dog, who figures largely in the story.  One of the
+enemies they had to face was lions.
+
+One day they found they needed more stores, so young Dyke, barely
+sixteen years of age, has to go on a six or seven day journey to the
+farm of the nearest honest storekeeper, a fat old German, seventy years
+of age.  On the way back there is a serious delay due to a flash flood
+which took several days to clear.  But when they get back they find that
+the older brother is seriously ill of an African fever.  The local
+people had been sure he would die, and were preparing to move in and
+take what stock there was.  But young Dyke nurses his brother back to
+health.  A little later the old German turns up at the farm, and makes a
+discovery which would change the fortunes of the brothers for ever.
+
+A very gripping story in the best Fenn style, very hard to put down.  It
+makes an excellent audiobook, of about seven hours' duration.
+
+________________________________________________________________________
+DIAMOND DYKE, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ONE.
+
+QUERY BAD SHILLINGS?
+
+"Hi!"
+
+No answer.
+
+"Hi!  Dyke!"
+
+The lad addressed did not turn his head, but walked straight on, with
+the dwarf karroo bushes crackling and snapping under his feet, while at
+each call he gave an angry kick out, sending the dry red sand flying.
+
+He was making for the kopje or head of bald granite which rose high out
+of the level plain--where, save in patches, there was hardly a tree to
+be seen--for amongst these piled-up masses of glittering stone, lay deep
+moist crevices in which were shade and trickling water, the great
+blessings of a dry and thirsty desert.
+
+"Hi!  Do you hear, Dyke?" came again, shouted by a big athletic-looking
+young man, in flannels and a broad-brimmed Panama hat, and he gave his
+thick brown beard an angry tug as he spoke.
+
+"Oh yes, I hear," muttered the lad; "I can hear you, old Joe.  He's got
+away again, and I shan't come.  A stupid-headed, vicious, long-legged
+beast, that's what he is."
+
+"Hi!" roared the young man, as he stood in front of an ugly corrugated
+iron shed, dignified by the name of house, from which the white-wash,
+laid thickly over the grey zinc galvanising to ward off the rays of the
+blinding Afric sun, had peeled away here and there in patches.
+
+Some attempts had been made to take off the square, desolate ugliness of
+the building by planting a patch of garden surrounded by posts and wire;
+but they were not very successful, for, as a rule, things would not grow
+for want of water.
+
+Vandyke Emson--the Dyke shouted at--had been the gardener, and so long
+as he toiled hard, fetching water from the granite kopje springs, a
+quarter of a mile away, and tended the roots he put in the virgin soil,
+they rushed up out of the ground; but, as he reasonably said, he
+couldn't do everything, and if he omitted to play Aquarius for
+twenty-four hours, there were the plants that looked so flourishing
+yesterday shrivelled to nothing.  He had planted creepers to run all
+over the sides and roof, but the sun made the corrugated iron red hot--
+the boy's exaggerated figure of speech, but so hot that you could not
+keep your hand upon the roof or wall--and the creepers found the
+temperature too much for their constitution, and they rapidly turned to
+hay.  Then he trained up tomatoes, which grew at express speed so long
+as they were watered, formed splendid fruit, were left to themselves a
+couple of days, and then followed suit with the creepers.  Joseph Emson
+smiled behind his great beard, and said they were a success because the
+tomatoes were cooked ready for use; but Dyke said it was another
+failure, because they were just as good raw, and he did not like to eat
+his fruit as vegetables cooked in a frying-pan covered with white-wash.
+
+Still all was not bare, for a patch of great sunflowers found moisture
+enough for their roots somewhere far below, and sent up their great
+pithy stalks close to the house door, spread their rough leaves, and
+imitated the sun's disk in their broad, round, yellow flowers.  There
+was an ugly euphorbia too, with its thorny, almost leafless branches and
+brilliant scarlet flowers; while grotesque and hideous-looking, with its
+great, flat, oblong, biscuit-shaped patches of juicy leaf, studded with
+great thorns, a prickly pear or opuntia reared itself against the end
+gable, warranted to stop every one who approached.
+
+"It's no good," Dyke once said; "the place is a nasty old desert, and I
+hate it, and I wish I'd never come.  There's only six letters in Africa,
+and half of them spell fry."
+
+"And that's bad grammar and bad spelling," said his half-brother; "and
+you're a discontented young cub."
+
+"And you're another," said Dyke sourly.  "Well, haven't we been fried or
+grilled ever since we've been out here? and don't you say yourself that
+it's all a failure, and that you've made a big mistake?"
+
+"Yes, sometimes, when I'm very hot and tired, Dicky, my lad.  We've
+failed so far; but, look here, my brave and beautiful British boy."
+
+"Look here, Joe; I wish you wouldn't be so jolly fond of chaffing and
+teasing me," said Dyke angrily.
+
+"Poor old fellow, then!  Was um hot and tired and thirsty, then?" cried
+his half-brother mockingly.  "Take it coolly, Dicky."
+
+"Don't call me Dicky," cried the boy passionately, as he kicked out both
+legs.
+
+"Vandyke Emson, Esquire, ostrich-farmer, then," said the other.
+
+"Ostrich-farmer!" cried Dyke, in a tone full of disgust.  "Ugh!  I'm
+sick of the silly-looking, lanky goblins.  I wish their heads were
+buried in the sand, and their bodies too."
+
+"With their legs sticking straight up to make fences, eh, old man?" said
+Joseph Emson, smiling behind his beard--a smile that would have been all
+lost, if it had not been for a pleasant wrinkle or two about his frank
+blue eyes.
+
+"Well, they would be some good then," said Dyke, a little more amiably.
+"These wire fences are always breaking down and going off _spang_, and
+twisting round your legs.  Oh, I do wish I was back at home."
+
+"Amongst the rain and clouds and fog, so that you could be always
+playing cricket in summer, and football in winter, and skating when
+there was ice."
+
+"Don't you sneer at the fog, Joe," retorted Dyke.  "I wish I could see a
+good thick one now."
+
+"So that you could say, `Ah, you should see the veldt where the sun
+shines brightly for weeks together.'"
+
+"Sun shines!" cried Dyke.  "Here, look at my face and hands."
+
+"Yes; they're burnt of good Russia leather colour, like mine, Dyke.
+Well, what do you say?  Shall we pack the wagon, give it up, and trek
+slowly back to Cape Town?"
+
+"Yes, I'm ready!" cried the boy eagerly.
+
+"Get out, you confounded young fibber!  I know you better than that."
+
+"No, you don't," said Dyke sulkily.
+
+"Yes, I do, Dicky.  I know you better than you know yourself.  You're
+not of that breed, my boy.  You've got too much of the old dad's
+Berserker blood in your veins.  Oh, come, now: withdraw all that!
+British boys don't look back when they've taken hold of the plough
+handles."
+
+"Bother the plough handles!"
+
+"By all means, boy; but, I say, that isn't English, Dyke.  Where would
+our country's greatness have been if her sons had been ready to sing
+that coward's song?"
+
+"Now you're beginning to preach again, Joe," said the boy sulkily.
+
+"Then say `Thank you,' my lad.  Isn't it a fine thing for you to have a
+brother with you, and then, when there isn't a church for hundreds of
+miles--a brother who can preach to you?"
+
+"No; because I know what you're going to say--that we ought to go on and
+fight it out."
+
+"That's it, Dicky.  Didn't some one say that the beauty of a British
+soldier was that he never knew when he was beaten?"
+
+"I'm not a soldier, and I am beaten," cried Dyke sourly.
+
+"Not you.  I know you better.  Why, if I said `Yes; let's give it up,'
+and packed up all we cared to take, and got the wagon loaded to-night,
+you'd repent in the morning when we were ready to start, and say, `Let's
+have another try.'"
+
+"Well, perhaps I might say--"
+
+"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Joseph Emson; "what a young humbug you are, Dicky.
+Fancy you going back with me to the old dad, and us saying, `Here we
+are, back again, like two bad shillings, father.  We've spent all our
+money, and we're a pair of failures.'"
+
+"Well, but it is so hot and tiresome, and the ostriches are such
+horribly stupid beasts, and--"
+
+"We're both very tired, and disappointed, and thirsty, and--"
+
+"I am, you mean," said Dyke.  "Nothing ever seems to worry you."
+
+"Hah!  I know you, Dicky, better than you know me.  I feel as keenly as
+you do, boy.  No: we will not give up.  We haven't given the ostriches a
+fair trial yet."
+
+"Oh, haven't we!"
+
+"No; not half.  I know we've had terribly bad luck just lately.  We did
+begin well."
+
+"No: it has all been a dreary muddle, and I'm sick of it."
+
+"Yes, you often are of a night, Dyke; but after a night's rest you are
+ready enough to go on again in a right spirit.  No, my lad, we'll never
+say die."
+
+"Who wants to!  I want to have a try at something else.  Let's go and
+hunt and get lion and leopard skins, and fill the wagon, and bring them
+back and sell them."
+
+"Plenty of people are doing that, Dicky."
+
+"Well then, let's go after ivory; shoot elephants, and bring back a load
+to sell.  It's worth lots of money."
+
+"Plenty of people are doing that too, boy."
+
+"Oh, you won't try, Joe, and that's what makes me so wild."
+
+"You mean, I won't set a seed to-day and dig it up to-morrow to see why
+it hasn't come up."
+
+"That's what you always say," said Dyke grumpily.
+
+"Yes, because we came out here with so many hundred pounds, Dicky, to
+try an experiment--to make an ostrich-farm."
+
+"And we've failed."
+
+"Oh dear, no, my lad.  We've spent all our money--invested it here in a
+wagon and oxen and house."
+
+"House!  Ha, ha, ha!  What a house!"
+
+"Not handsome, certainly, Dicky."
+
+"Dicky!  There you go again."
+
+"Yes, there I go again.  And in our enclosures and pens, and horses and
+guns and ammunition, and in paying our men.  So we can't afford to give
+up if we wanted to."
+
+"But see what a desolate place it is!"
+
+"Big, vast, level, and wild, but the very spot for our purpose."
+
+"And not a neighbour near."
+
+"To quarrel with?  No, not one.  No, Dyke, we mustn't give it up; and
+some day you'll say I'm right."
+
+"Never," cried the boy emphatically.
+
+"Never's a long day, Dyke.--Look here, lad, I'm going to tell you an old
+story."
+
+"Thankye," said Dyke sullenly.  "I know--about Bruce and the spider."
+
+"Wrong, old fellow, this time.  Another author's story that you don't
+know."
+
+"Bother the old stories!" cried the boy.
+
+The big manly fellow laughed good-humouredly.
+
+"Poor old Dyke! he has got it badly this time.  What is it--prickly heat
+or home-sickness, or what?"
+
+"Everything.  I'm as miserable as mizzer," cried Dick.  "Oh, this desert
+is dreary."
+
+"Not it, Dyke; it's wild and grand.  You are tired and disappointed.
+Some days must be dark and dreary, boy.  Come, Dyke, pluck! pluck!
+pluck!"
+
+"I haven't got any; sun's dried it all out of me."
+
+"Has it?" said his brother, laughing.  "I don't believe it.  No, Dicky,
+we can't go home and sneak in at the back door with our tails between
+our legs, like two beaten hounds.  There are those at home who would
+sorrow for us, and yet feel that they despised us.  We came out here to
+win, and win we will, if our perseverance will do it."
+
+"Well, haven't we tried, and hasn't everything failed?"
+
+"No, boy," cried the young man excitedly.  "Look here: my story is of a
+party of American loafers down by a river.  Come, I never told you
+that."
+
+"No," said Dyke, raising his brown face from where he rested it upon his
+arm.
+
+"That's better.  Then you can be interested still."
+
+"One needs something to interest one in this miserable, dried-up
+desert," cried the boy.
+
+"Miserable, dried-up desert!" said his brother, speaking in a low deep
+voice, as he gazed right away through the transparent air at the
+glorious colours where the sun sank in a canopy of amber and gold.  "No,
+Dicky, it has its beauties, in spite of all you say."
+
+"Oh Joe!" cried the boy, "what a tiresome old chap you are.  Didn't you
+say you were going to tell me a story about some Americans down by a
+river?  Oh, how I should like to get to a mill-race and have a bathe.
+Do go on."
+
+"Ah! to be sure.  Well, I only want you to take notice of one part of
+it.  The rest is brag."
+
+"Then it's a moral story," cried Dyke, in a disappointed tone.
+
+"Yes, if you like; but it may be fresh to you."
+
+"'Tain't about ostriches, is it?"
+
+"No.--They were throwing stones."
+
+"What!--the loafers?"
+
+"Yes, from a wharf, to see who could throw farthest, and one man, who
+was looking on, sneered at them, and began to boast about how far he
+could throw.  They laughed at him, and one of them made himself very
+objectionable and insulting, with the result that the boasting man said,
+if it came to the point, he could throw the other fellow right across
+the river.  Of course there was a roar of laughter at this, and one chap
+bet a dollar that he could not."
+
+"And of course he couldn't," said Dyke, who forgot his prickly heat and
+irritation.  "But you said it was all brag.  Well?"
+
+"The boastful fellow, as soon as the wager was laid, seized the other by
+the waistband, heaved him up, and pitched him off the wharf into the
+river, amidst roars of laughter, which were kept up as the man came
+drenched out of the river, and asked to be paid.
+
+"`Oh no,' said the other; `I didn't say I'd do it the first time.  But I
+kin dew it, and I will dew it, if I try till to-morrow morning;' and
+catching hold of the wet man, he heaved him up again, and threw him by a
+tremendous effort nearly a couple of yards out into the river.  Down he
+went out of sight in the deep water, and out he scrambled again, hardly
+able to speak, when he was seized once more.
+
+"`Third time never fails,' cried the fellow; but the other had had
+enough of it, and owned he was beaten."
+
+"But it was by an artful trick," cried Dyke.
+
+"Of course it was, boy; but what I want you to notice was the spirit of
+the thing, though it was only bragging; I kin dew it, and I will dew it,
+if I try till to-morrow morning.  We kin dew it, and we will dew
+it, Dyke, even if we have to try till to-morrow morning--
+to-morrow-come-never-morning."
+
+"Oh!" groaned Dyke, sinking back upon the sand; "I am so hot and dry."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWO.
+
+DYKE ROUSES UP.
+
+That was months before the opening of our story, when Dyke was making
+his way in disgust toward the moist shade of the kopje, where, deep down
+from cracks of the granite rock, the spring gurgled out.
+
+Only a part ran for a few yards, and then disappeared in the sand,
+without once reaching to where the sun blazed down.
+
+Joe Emson shouted once more, but Dyke would not turn his head.
+
+"Let him follow me if he wants me," muttered the boy.  "He isn't half so
+hot as I am."
+
+Hot or not hot, the big fellow took off his broad Panama hat, gave his
+head a vicious rub, replaced it, and turned to shout again.  "Jack!
+Ahoy, Jack!"
+
+There was no reply to this, for Kaffir Jack lay behind the house in a
+very hot place, fast asleep upon the sand, with his dark skin glistening
+in the sunshine, the pigment within keeping off the blistering sunburn
+which would have followed had the skin been white.
+
+"I shall have to go after him," muttered Joe Emson; and, casting off the
+feeling of languor which had impelled him to call others instead of
+acting himself, he braced himself up, left the scorching iron house
+behind, and trotted after Dyke, scaring a group of stupid-looking young
+ostriches into a run behind the wire fence.
+
+He knew where he would find his half-brother, and there he was, lying
+upon his breast, with a cushion of green mossy growth beneath him, a
+huge hanging rock overhead casting a broad shade, and the water gurgling
+cool and clear so close that he had but to stretch out his hand to scoop
+it up and drink from the palm.
+
+Outside there was the scorching, blinding sunshine, however, and among
+the rocks all looked black, and seemed rather cool.
+
+"Oh, you lazy young sybarite!" cried Joe Emson, as he came up.  "You
+always know the best places.  Why didn't you answer me?"
+
+"What's the good of answering?" cried Dyke.  "I can't help old Goblin
+getting away again.  He will go, and nothing will stop him."
+
+"But something shall stop him," said Joe.  "I'll have an iron bar driven
+into the ground, and tether him with a rope."
+
+"No good," said Dyke drowsily: "he'd eat the rope and swallow the bar."
+
+"Then I'll tether him with a piece of chain."
+
+"He'd roll it up and swallow it.--I say Joe, I feel sure he had that
+curb chain and the two buckles we missed."
+
+"Nonsense!  Come, get up, and help drive him in."
+
+"I'm too tired, and it isn't nonsense.  He's always on the lookout for
+bits of iron and broken crockery.  I took a hammer and a cracked
+willow-pattern plate one day, and broke it up in bits and fed him with
+them.  He ate them all."
+
+"Well, of course: birds do pick up stones and things to fill their
+gizzards."
+
+"And that's just how I feel," said Dyke.
+
+"Eh?  How?"
+
+"As if my gizzard was filled with sharp bits of stone, and it makes me
+irritable and cross."
+
+"And lazy.  Come: jump up."
+
+"I can't, Joe.  I said last time I'd never go after the goblin again,
+and I won't."
+
+"Yes, you will; you'll come and help me drive him in."
+
+"No: let him go."
+
+"Nonsense!  He's the best cock bird I've got."
+
+"Then the others must be bad ones," grumbled Dyke.
+
+"Get up, sir!" cried Joe, stirring the boy with his toe.
+
+"Shan't.  I don't mind your kicking."
+
+"Get up, or I'll duck you in the spring."
+
+"Wouldn't be such a coward, because you're big and strong.  Hit one of
+your own size."
+
+"I declare I will," cried Joe, bending down and seizing the boy by the
+arm and waistband.
+
+"All right, do: it will be deliriously cool."
+
+Joe Emson rose up and took hold of his big beard.
+
+"Don't leave me everything to do, Dyke, old boy," he said appealingly.
+"I wouldn't lose that great ostrich for any money."
+
+Dyke muttered something about hating the old ostrich, but did not stir.
+
+"All right.  I'll go alone," said Joe; and he turned away and walked
+swiftly back.
+
+But before he had gone a dozen yards Dyke had sprung up and overtaken
+him.
+
+"I'll come, Joe," he said; "but that old cock does make me so wild.  I
+know he understands, and he does it on purpose to tease me.  I wish
+you'd shoot him."
+
+"Can't afford the luxury, little un," said Joe, clapping his brother on
+the shoulder.  "Let's make our pile first."
+
+"Then the goblin will live for ever," sighed the boy, "for we shall
+never make any piles.--Where is he?"
+
+Joe shaded his eyes and looked right across the barren veldt, where the
+glare of the sun produced a hazy, shimmering effect.
+
+"There he is!"
+
+"Don't see anything."
+
+"Yes, you can.  Your eyes are sharper than mine.  There, just to the
+left of that rock."
+
+"What!--that one like a young kopje?"
+
+"Yes, just to the left."
+
+"What!--that speck?  Oh! that can't be it."
+
+"Yes, it is; and if you had the glass, you could tell directly."
+
+"But it's so far, and oh dear, how hot it is!"
+
+"It will be cooler riding."
+
+"No, it won't," grumbled Dyke; "there'll be hot horses under you, then."
+
+"Yes, but cool air rushing by you.  Come, old lad, don't sham idleness."
+
+"It isn't sham," said Dyke.  "I don't think I used to be idle, but this
+hot sun has stewed all the spirit out of me."
+
+Joe said nothing, but led the way round to the back of the long low
+house, to where a high thick hedge of thorns shut in a lean-to shed
+thatched with mealie leaves and stalks; these, the dry remains of a load
+of Indian corn, being laid on heavily, so as to form a good shelter for
+the horses, haltered to a rough manger beneath.
+
+As Dyke approached, he raised a metal whistle which hung from his neck
+by a leather thong, and blew loudly.  A low whinny answered the call,
+and a big, raw-boned, powerful horse and a handsome, well-bred cob were
+unhaltered, to turn and stand patiently enough to be bridled and
+saddled, afterwards following out their masters like dogs.
+
+And now as they passed the end of the stable, all the languor and
+lassitude passed away from Dyke on the instant.  For he now caught sight
+of their Kaffir servant lying fast asleep just beneath the eaves of the
+corrugated iron roof.
+
+The sand hushed the horses' hoofs, and the Kaffir slept on, with the
+flies buzzing about his half-open mouth, as if they mistook the thick
+red lips for the petals of some huge flower.
+
+"I'm not going to stand that," said the boy.
+
+"What are you going to do?"
+
+"You'll see," whispered Dyke.  "If I'm to be toiling after goblins, he's
+not going to sleep there like a black pig.  Go on a little way and look
+back."
+
+Joe Emson smiled in a heavy, good-humoured way, as he took the bridle
+his brother handed to him, and the smile developed into a silent laugh,
+as he saw the boy's energy over a bit of mischief.
+
+For Dyke actually ran back to the stable, brought out a bucket of water,
+stood counting the furrows of the iron roofing, and then carried the
+pail round to the other side and set it down.
+
+His next movement was to fetch a roughly made step-ladder, count the
+furrows on his side, then place the ladder carefully, and at such a
+slope that it lay flat on the roof, so that, steadily preserving his
+balance, he walked up with the bucket of water from round to round till
+he could see across the ridge to where his brother stood with the horses
+a hundred yards away, watching over the big nag's mane, and grasping now
+what was to happen.
+
+Dyke knelt down now behind the ridge, to which the top of the ladder
+just reached, and had calculated his distance so well, that upon tilting
+the bucket a little, some water trickled down two of the furrows of an
+iron sheet, and began to drip from the eaves upon the Kaffir's nude
+chest.
+
+There was no movement, so a little more water was poured, and this
+brought forth a pig-like grunt, as if of satisfaction.
+
+More water--more grunts.
+
+More water, and a shuffling movement.
+
+More water, and an angry gasp; the Kaffir raised his head, looked up at
+the sky, the dripping eaves--looked round, and settled down to sleep.
+
+All this was invisible to Dyke, but he could tell by the sounds that his
+shower was having effect; and as soon as the man ceased to move, the boy
+sent down a third of the bucketful.
+
+This produced a sharp ejaculation, and the man sprang up into a sitting
+position, and looking angrily round, saw that Emson was standing far
+away with the horses, and that no one else was near.  His next glance
+was at the cloudless sky, and the dripping eaves, to which a few bright
+drops still hung and ceased to fall.
+
+Only a rare shower, the man seemed to think; and, muttering to himself,
+he shuffled a little into a dry spot to lie down yawning, when rush came
+the rest of the water, deluging him this time, and making him jump up
+and burst into a torrent of objurgations against the sky in his own
+tongue, shaking both his fists the while, till, _bang, clatter, crash_!
+the bucket came rattling down, and he turned and ran out toward where
+Emson stood looking on.
+
+Dyke descended quickly, and making a circuit, he ran round, and then
+appeared slowly from the end of a fence fifty yards from the house,
+walking quietly across to join his brother.
+
+As he drew near, the Kaffir was gesticulating and talking away in broken
+English, mingled with more words of his own tongue; and when Dyke joined
+them and took the rein of his little cob, the man turned excitedly to
+him.
+
+"What's the matter, Jack?"
+
+The Kaffir looked at him suspiciously for a moment or two, but Dyke
+mounted and returned the gaze in the most unruffled manner.
+
+"Big rain--big wet rain--big water--big bucket--all wet, wet," cried the
+Kaffir.
+
+"Make the mealies grow," said Dyke coolly.
+
+"Make mealie grow!" cried the man.  Then a change came over him.  The
+look of doubt and wonder became one of certainty, and his face
+expanded into a broad grin which displayed all his white teeth.
+"Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!" he cried, pointing to a couple of wet patches on
+the leg of the boy's trousers; "you make rain--Massa Dyky make rain.
+Wet, wet.  Ah-ah-ah-ah!"
+
+"You come along and help drive the ostrich," said Dyke, setting his cob
+to canter; and, followed by the Kaffir at a quick trot, which soon dried
+up his moisture, they went over the heated red sand toward where the
+speck in the distance had been pointed out as the object they sought.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THREE.
+
+AN OSTRICH RACE.
+
+"I say, Joe, you are right," said Dyke now, with animation.  "'Tisn't
+half so hot riding."
+
+"Of course not.  One begins to get moist, and the sun and air bring a
+feeling of coolness.  It's only the making a start.  Now then, shall I
+try to cut him off?"
+
+"No, no!" cried Dyke excitedly; "I'll do it.  I'll make the brute run.
+You follow up."
+
+"Right!" said Emson; "that is, unless he tracks my way."
+
+"Oh, he won't do that," said Dyke, with a merry laugh, and in his
+animation the boy seemed to be quite transformed.
+
+It was a good long ride to where the ostrich they sought to bring back
+to its pen could be seen stalking about, looking about as big as a
+guinea-fowl, but gradually growing taller and taller to its pursuers as
+they rode on.  After a time it ceased picking about and ran first in one
+direction and then in another, as if undecided which line of country to
+take before leading its pursuers a wild race out and across the veldt.
+
+By this time it looked fully four feet high; soon after it was fully
+five, as it stood up with its neck stretched out, and its weak,
+large-eyed, flat head turned to them with a malicious expression.
+
+The trio now separated, the horsemen riding more and more apart as they
+advanced, till they were each a couple of hundred yards from the Kaffir,
+who suddenly uttered a warning cry, to indicate that the great bird was
+beginning to run off straight away.
+
+"All right, Jack, I see," cried Dyke; and pressing his cob's sides he
+went off at a gallop, not, however, in pursuit of the bird, which ran
+right forward, with its head turned to watch its pursuers all the time.
+
+Dyke's tactics, the result of experience, were of quite another kind.
+He turned his cob's head, and went off like the wind at right angles to
+the course the ostrich was taking, and the effect was instantaneous.
+There was all the open veldt, or plain, spreading out for hundreds of
+miles before the bird, and it had only to dart off and leave the
+swiftest horse far behind.  But its would-be cunning nature suggested to
+it that its enemy had laid a deep scheme to cut it off, and instead of
+going straight away, it turned on the instant to spin along in the same
+direction as that taken by the boy, and get right across him.
+
+"Ah, you silly, muddled-brained, flat-headed idiot!" yelled Dyke, as he
+raced along over the plain, his steed sending the red sand flying at
+every spurn of its hoofs as it stretched itself out.  "I'll be there
+first, and cut him off.  You can't do it--you can't do it.  Ah-h-h-h!"
+
+This last shout, ending in a rattle of the tongue, seemed to stimulate
+the little cob to make fresh efforts; and laughing merrily to himself in
+the exhilaration of the race, Dyke had only to keep slightly drawing his
+left rein, to make the ostrich curve more and more round towards him,
+till he had actually deluded the bird into taking the exact direction he
+wished--namely, right for the pens from which it had escaped.
+
+On sped the cob, running over the sand like a greyhound, and on rushed
+the ostrich, its long legs going with a half-invisible twinkling effect
+like that produced by the spokes of a rapidly revolving wheel; its wings
+were half-extended, its plumage ruffled, and its long neck stretched
+out, with its flattened head slightly turned in the direction of the
+rider.
+
+And so they rode on and on, till the low range of buildings in front
+became nearer, the yellow sunflower disks grew bigger, and the sun
+glared from the white house.  Still the bird saw nothing of this, but
+continued to run in its curve, trying to pass its pursuer, till all at
+once it woke to the fact that there was a long range of wire fence
+before it, over which were bobbing about the heads of Joe Emson's flock
+of its fellows, and there it was with the fence in front, and the two
+horsemen and Kaffir behind.
+
+Then there was a change of tactics.
+
+Dyke, who was hundreds of yards in front of his companions, knew what
+was coming, and gave his short-handled rhinoceros-hide whip a whish
+through the air, and then cracked it loudly, while a chorus of
+discordant cries arose from the pens.
+
+"Give up, you ugly old rascal, or I'll twist this round your long neck,"
+cried Dyke; and a great chorus arose from the pens, as if the tame birds
+within the wire fence were imploring the great truant to be good, and
+come home.
+
+But nothing was further from the great bird's thoughts.  It could easily
+now have darted away, but it felt that it was driven to bay, and began
+to show fight in the most vicious fashion, snapping its flat beak,
+hissing, snorting, rattling its plumage, and undulating its long neck,
+as it danced about, till it looked like a boa constrictor which had
+partially developed into a bird.
+
+Then it dashed at its pursuer, snapping at him in its rushes.  But the
+bill was not the thing to mind; a few lashes with the whip were enough
+to ward off its attack.  The danger to be avoided came from those
+tremendous legs, which could deliver kicks hard enough to break a man's
+bones.
+
+Three times over did the great bird strike at Dyke, as it was driven
+down to the pen with lash after lash of the whip, which wrapped round
+the neck, as the head rose fully eight feet above the ground.  Then came
+another stroke which took effect, not upon Dyke's leg, but upon the
+horse's flank, just behind the stirrup, in spite of the clever little
+animal's bounds to avoid the kicks.
+
+What followed was instantaneous.  The horse whirled round, snorting with
+pain, and struck out at his enemy, sending out its heels with such
+violence and effect, that they came in contact with one of the ostrich's
+shanks, and the next moment the giant bird came to the ground, a heap of
+feathers, from which the long neck kept darting, and one leg delivering
+heavy blows.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOUR.
+
+ANOTHER FAILURE?
+
+"Why, Dyke, boy, you've done it now," cried Joe Emson, cantering close
+up, his horse snorting as the ostrich struck at him with its snake-like
+head.
+
+"Yes, you had better have left me where I was by the spring," said the
+boy disconsolately.  "I hated the old wretch, but I didn't want to hurt
+him."
+
+"I know, my lad, I know," said Emson.  "I'm not blaming you, but it does
+seem a pity.  What bad luck I do have with these birds, to be sure.--Lie
+still, you savage; you can't get up!"
+
+This to the bird, which, after striking at him two or three times, made
+a desperate effort to rise, fluttering and beating with its wings, and
+hopping a little, but trailing its broken leg as it made for the pen,
+within which were all its friends.
+
+"Yes, you had better have stayed at home, old fellow," said Dyke,
+apostrophising the unhappy bird; "then you wouldn't have got into this
+state.--I say, Joe, couldn't we set its leg?  It would soon grow
+together again."
+
+"If he were one of the quiet old hens, I'd say yes; but it would be
+impossible.  Directly we went near, there would be a kick or a peck."
+
+"I'll try," said Dyke; and going gently toward where the bird lay
+crouched in a heap, he spoke softly to it, as he had been accustomed to
+speak to the others when going to feed them.  But his advance was the
+signal for the bird to draw back its head, its eyes flashing angrily,
+while it emitted a fierce roaring sound that was like that of some
+savage, cat-like beast.  It struck out with beak and wings, and made
+desperate efforts to rise.
+
+"Stop!" cried Emson sharply.
+
+"I'm not afraid," cried Dyke.  "I'll get hold of his neck, and try and
+hold him."
+
+"I know," said his brother; "but the poor creature will knock itself to
+pieces."
+
+"But so it will if you leave it quiet," cried Dyke; and then, sharply:
+"Ah! you cowardly brutes, let him alone."
+
+This was to some half-a-dozen cock birds in the pen, which, possibly in
+remembrance of the many times they had been thrashed and driven about
+the pen by their injured king, seized the opportunity of his downfall to
+thrust out their long necks and begin striking at him savagely, seizing
+him by the feathers, and dragging them out, till he shuffled beyond
+their reach.
+
+"His fate's sealed if he is put with the rest; that's very evident,"
+said Emson.
+
+"Killum!" said the Kaffir, nodding his head.
+
+"Let's shut him up in the stable," said Dyke, "and tie him down while we
+set his leg."
+
+"It would mean such a desperate struggle that the poor bird would never
+get over it; and if it did, it would mope and die.  Better put it out of
+its misery."
+
+Just then a big rough dog came out of the house, where it had been
+having a long sleep through the hot part of the day, and after giving
+Dyke a friendly wag of the tail, walked slowly toward the injured
+ostrich.
+
+That was enough to make the bird draw back its head and strike at the
+dog, which avoided the blow, and growling fiercely, prepared to resent
+the attack.
+
+"Come away, Duke," cried Dyke.  "To heel, sir."
+
+The dog growled and seemed to protest, but went obediently behind his
+younger master.
+
+"I had better shoot the bird, Dyke," said Emson.
+
+"No, no; don't.  Let's have a try to save it.  Perhaps when it finds
+that we want to do it good, it will lie quiet."
+
+"No," said Emson; "it will take it as meant for war."
+
+"Well, let's try," said Dyke.--"Here, Breezy: stable."
+
+The cob walked slowly away toward its shed, and the other horse
+followed, while Dyke hurriedly fetched a couple of pieces of rope,
+formed of twisted antelope skin.
+
+"What do you propose doing?" said Emson.
+
+"All run in together, and tie his neck to one wing; then he'll be
+helpless, and we can tie his thighs together.  You can set the leg
+then."
+
+"Well, I'll try," said Emson.  "Wait till I've cut a couple of pieces of
+wood for splints.  What can I get?"
+
+"Bit of box-lid," replied Dyke; and in a few minutes Emson returned,
+bearing in addition a flat roll of stout webbing, such as is used by
+upholsterers, and by the poor emigrants to lace together across a frame,
+and form the beds upon which they stretch their weary bones at night.
+
+"I think I can set it, and secure it," said Emson.
+
+"Why, of course you can."
+
+"Yes, but as soon as it's done, the poor brute will kick it off.  Now
+then, how about tying him?"
+
+"Rush him," said Dyke laconically.  "Come along, Jack, and help."
+
+But the Kaffir shook his head rapidly.
+
+"Why, hullo!  You won't back out, Jack?"
+
+"No.  Him kick, bite: no good."
+
+"Never you mind that," cried Dyke.  "You rush in with us, and hold his
+head, while we take his legs and wings.  Do you understand?"
+
+"No," said the Kaffir, shaking his head.  "Killum--killum!" and he made
+a gesture as if striking with a club.
+
+"Not going to kill," cried Dyke.  "You rush in and hold the head.  Do
+you understand?"
+
+"No," said the Kaffir.
+
+"He won't," cried Emson.  "We shall have to do it ourselves, Dyke.  Make
+a noose and lasso the brute's head.  Then when I run in to seize the
+leg, you drag the neck tight down to the wing, and hold it there."
+
+Dyke nodded, made a noose at the end of his hide rope, and advanced
+gently toward the ostrich, which struck at him, but only to dart its
+head through the loop; and this was drawn tight.
+
+"Now, Joe, ready?" cried the boy, as the dog set up a furious barking,
+and joined in the rush that was made by the brothers, who succeeded in
+pinning down the bird.  Emson holding the legs, while avoiding a buffet
+from the uppermost wing, Dyke slipped the rope round the bone, dragged
+down the head, and after a furious struggle, the bird lay still.
+
+"Think you can manage now?" panted Dyke, who was hot from exertion.
+
+"Yes; I'll tie his legs together, after setting the broken one.  It's
+the only chance for him."
+
+"Yes; it's all right," cried Dyke; "he's getting weaker, and giving in."
+
+"Seems like it," said his brother sarcastically, for as the boy spoke,
+the great bird began to beat with its wings with terrific violence,
+keeping it up for fully five minutes, and giving the pair a hard task to
+hold it down, while the Kaffir looked on calmly enough, and the dog kept
+on charging in, as if eager to seize one of the legs, and hold it still.
+
+"Well, there then, he is giving in now," panted Dyke, who had been
+compelled to put forth all his strength to keep from being thrown off by
+the violent buffeting of the bird's wings.  "Look sharp, and get it
+done."
+
+Dyke got one hand at liberty now to wipe the feather-down from his face,
+where the perspiration made it adhere, and as he looked up, he could not
+refrain from laughing aloud at the row of comical flat heads peering
+over the wire fence, where the ostriches in the pen were gathered
+together to look on.
+
+"Yes," said Emson gravely; "he is giving in now, poor brute.  He'll
+never hunt the young cocks round the enclosure again."
+
+"And they know it, too," cried Dyke.  "Look at them wagging their silly
+old heads and trying to look cunning.--But hullo why don't you go on?"
+
+"Can't you see?" said Emson.  "The horse's hoofs must have struck him in
+the side as well.  The poor old goblin is dead."
+
+Dyke leaped to his feet in dismay, and stared sceptically from his
+brother to the bird, and back again and again.
+
+It was true enough: the great bird, which so short a time ago was
+seeming to spin with such wonderful speed across the veldt that its legs
+were nearly invisible, now lay on its side, with the stilt-like members
+perfectly still, one being stretched out to its full length, the other
+in a peculiar double angle, through the broken bone making a fresh
+joint.
+
+"Oh, the poor old goblin!" said the boy, hurriedly unloosening the rein
+which held down its head.  "I didn't choke it, did I?  No: look, the
+loop was quite big."
+
+"No; the ribs are crushed in," said Emson, feeling beneath the beautiful
+plumage.  "Another loss, Dyke.  We shall find out all his good qualities
+now."
+
+"Breezy kick and killum," said the Kaffir sententiously.  "Bird kick,
+horse kick; killum--shouldn't kick."
+
+"Here, you go back to your kraal, and set up for a wise man of the
+south," cried Dyke pettishly.  "How long did it take you to find out all
+that?"  "Yes, killum dead," said the Kaffir, nodding.  "Bosh!" cried
+Dyke, turning impatiently away.  "Well, we must make the best of it,"
+said Emson then.  "His feathers will be worth something, for they are in
+fine condition.  Let's get them off at once."
+
+The heat of the sun was forgotten, and so was Dyke's want of energy, for
+he set to work manfully, helping his brother to cut off the abundant
+plumes, tying them up in loose bundles with the quill ends level, that
+they might dry, and carefully carrying them into the room used for
+storing feathers, eggs, and such curiosities as were collected from time
+to time; Dyke having displayed a hobby for bringing home stones,
+crystals, birds' eggs, and any attractive piece of ore, that he found
+during his travels.  These were ranged in an old case, standing upright
+against the corrugated iron wall, where, a few boardings nailed across
+for shelves, the boy had an extremely rough but useful cabinet, the lid
+of the case forming the door when attached by a pair of leather hinges
+tacked on with wire nails.
+
+"There," said Emson, when the last plumes had been removed; "what do you
+say to having the skin off?  It will make a mat."
+
+Dyke nodded, and the Kaffir now helping, the bird's tough skin was
+stripped off, and laid, feathers downward, on the roof to dry.
+
+"Jackals can't reach it there, can they?" said Emson.
+
+"No, I think not.  Leopard might come and pull it down."
+
+"Yes: don't let Duke be out of a night; there has been one hanging about
+lately.--But what are you going to do?"
+
+"Dissect him," said Dyke, who was on his knees with his sharp
+sheath-knife in his hand.
+
+"Nonsense!  Leave it now."
+
+"I want to see the poor old goblin's gizzard, and open it.  I know he
+has got knives and all sorts of things inside."
+
+"Then you may look," said Emson.  "I'm going to feed the horses and have
+a wash; they haven't been unsaddled yet."
+
+He went to the thorn-fence and disappeared, while, hot and tired now,
+Dyke made short work of opening the great bird, and dragging out the
+gizzard, which he opened as a cook does that of a fowl, and exclaimed
+aloud at the contents:
+
+"Here, Jack, fetch me some water in the tin;" and while the "boy" was
+gone, Dyke scraped out on to the sand quite a heap of pieces of flinty
+stone, rough crystals, and some pieces of iron, rusty nails, and a
+good-sized piece of hoop.
+
+"I must have a look at you afterwards," said the boy, as he picked out
+some forty or fifty of the dingy-looking rough crystals, gave them a rub
+over and over in the dry sand upon which he knelt, to dry them, and then
+thrust them--a good handful--into his pocket.
+
+"Do for the collection," he said to himself with a laugh.  "Label:
+crystals of quartz, discovered in a goblin's gizzard by Vandyke Emson,
+Esquire, F.A.S., Kopfontein, South Africa."
+
+"Wanterwater?"
+
+"Yes, I do `wanterwater,'" cried Dyke, turning sharply on the Kaffir,
+who had returned.  "I want to wash my hands.  Look at 'em, Jack!"
+
+"Narcy!" said the man, making a grimace.
+
+"Hold hard, though; let's have a drink first," cried the boy.  "It looks
+clean;" and raising the tin, he took a deep draught before using the
+vessel for a good wash, taking a handful of sand in the place of soap.
+
+"Find the knife?" said Emson, coming back from the stable.
+
+"No, but look here," cried Dyke, pointing to the great piece of
+hoop-iron.  "Fancy a bird swallowing that."
+
+"Iron is good for birds, I suppose," said Emson quietly.--"Here, Jack,
+drag that bird right away off; remember, a good way.  Mind, I don't want
+the jackals too close to-night."
+
+The Kaffir nodded, seized the bird's legs as if they were the shafts of
+a cart or handles of a wheelbarrow.
+
+The load was heavy, though, and he shook his head, with reason, for such
+a bird weighed three hundred pounds, and it spoke well for its leg
+muscles that it could go at the rate of forty or fifty miles an hour.
+
+"Too big," grumbled Jack; so Dyke seized one of the legs, and together
+they walked away with the dead bird, dragging it quite a quarter of a
+mile out beyond the ostrich-pens, ready for the jackals to come and play
+scavenger.  After which Dyke returned to his brother, and they went in
+to where Tanta Sal, Jack's wife, had prepared a substantial meal.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIVE.
+
+BIG BIRDNESTING.
+
+"You're a dissatisfied young dog, Dyke," cried Joe Emson
+good-humouredly, as he smiled down from his high horse at his brother;
+"always grumbling."
+
+"I'm not," cried Dyke indignantly.
+
+"You are, boy.  Just as if any one could be low-spirited when he is
+young and strong, out in this wide free place on such a lovely morning."
+
+"It's all right enough now," replied Dyke, "because it's early and cool;
+but it is so horribly lonely."
+
+"Lonely!  Why, I'm always with you," cried Emson--"the best of company.
+Then you've Jack and Tanta Sal, and Duke, and Breezy, and all the
+ostriches for pets, and the oxen; while, if you want more company,
+there's old Oom Schlagen out one way, and old Morgenstern out the
+other."
+
+"Ugh!  Stupid old Boers!" cried Dyke.
+
+"Well, they're civil to you, and that's more than Oom Schlagen is to me.
+It's because you have got that Dutch name.  I say, father meant you to
+be a painter, I'll be bound, and here you are, an ostrich-farmer."
+
+"Oh yes, and we're going to be very rich when the birds are all dead."
+
+"And they seem as if they meant to die, all of them," said Emson sadly,
+as he rode along by his brother, each with his rifle across his
+saddle-bow.  "I don't seem to have got hold of the right way of managing
+them, Dyke: we must follow nature more by watching the habits of the
+wild ones.  I have tried so hard, too."
+
+"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Dyke merrily.  "Who's grumbling now!"
+
+"That's better, and more like yourself, old fellow," said Emson, smiling
+down pleasantly.  "That's more like the light-hearted chap who promised
+to stick to and help me like a brother should.  You hurt me, Dyke, when
+you turn so low-spirited and sulky.  I've plenty of troubles, though I
+say little, over my venture here; and when I see you so down, it worries
+me more than I can say."
+
+They rode on over the open veldt that glorious morning in silence for
+some minutes, and Dyke looked down at his horse's mane.
+
+"It makes me feel that I have done wrong in bringing a bright, happy lad
+away from home and his studies to this wild solitary place.  I ought to
+have known better, and that it was not natural for a boy like you to
+feel the hard stern determination to get on that I, ten years older,
+possessed.  I ought to have known that, as soon as the novelty had
+passed away, you would begin to long for change.  Father did warn me,
+but I said to him: `I'm a man, and he's only a boy; but we've been
+together so much, and always been companions, Dyke and I can't help
+getting on together.'"
+
+"And we can't," cried the boy in a husky voice.  "Don't, please don't,
+Joe, old chap; I can't bear it.  I've been a beast."
+
+"Oh, come, come," cried Emson, leaning over to clap him on the shoulder;
+"I didn't mean to upset you like that."
+
+"But I'm glad you have," cried Dyke in half-suffocated tones.  "I know
+well enough I have been a beast to you, Joe, and the more quiet and
+patient you've been with me, the worse I've got, till I quite hate
+myself."
+
+"Oh no, not so bad as that."
+
+"Yes," cried Dyke excitedly, "it's been worse; and all the while you've
+been the dear, good old chap to me; just the same as it always was when
+I was little, and grew tired and cross when we were out, and you took me
+up on your back and carried me miles and miles home."
+
+"Why, of course I did," said Emson, smiling.
+
+"There's no of course in it.  I was always petty and disagreeable, and
+ready to impose on your good-nature; but you never had an unkind word
+for me."
+
+"Well, you were such a little one, and I was always so big."
+
+"I can see it all, Joe, and it's made me miserable many a time; but the
+kinder you've been, the worse it has made me.  You and father always
+spoiled and petted me."
+
+"Not we.  Only kind to you, because we liked you.  I say, Dyke, what
+games we used to have!  You see, I never had a brother till you came.
+There, it's all right.  Now then for a canter."
+
+"Not yet," said Dyke.  "I feel as if I could talk to you this morning."
+
+"But you have talked, and it's all over now; so come along."
+
+"No," cried Dyke firmly, and he caught his brother's rein.
+
+"I say, old chap, are you the boss here, or am I?"
+
+"I am, this morning," said the boy, looking up in his brother's big
+manly face.  "I want you to listen to me."
+
+"Well, go ahead then, and let's get it over."
+
+"It's been like this, Joe.  I've got in a bad way of thinking lately.
+It's all been so disappointing, and no matter what one did, nothing came
+right."
+
+"Yes, that's true enough, old chap," said Emson, rather drearily; "and
+we have tried precious hard."
+
+"You have, Joe, and I've been a regular sulky, disappointed sort of
+brute."
+
+"Coat been a bit rough, Dyke, old chap, eh?  Out of sorts."
+
+"I suppose in my head; but, Joe, I am sorry--I can't say it as I should
+like to, but I--I will try now."
+
+"Just as if I didn't know.  We've been chums so long, old man, ever
+since you first took to me when I was a big stupid fellow, all legs like
+a colt, and as ugly, and you were a pretty little golden-haired chap,
+always wanting to stick your soft chubby little fist in my big paw.
+There, it's all right.  Old times again, old un, and we're going to do
+it yet, eh?"
+
+"And you'll forgive me, Joe?" said Dyke earnestly.
+
+"Forgive you?" cried Emson, looking at his brother with his big pleasant
+manly face all in wrinkles.  "Get along with you!  What is there to
+forgive?"
+
+"I will try now and help you, Joe; I will, indeed."
+
+"Of course you will, old chap," cried Joe, a little huskily too; "and if
+you and I can't win yet, in spite of the hot sun and the disease and the
+wicked ways of those jolly old stilt-stalkers, nobody can."
+
+"Yes, we will win, Joe," cried Dyke enthusiastically.
+
+"That's your sort!" cried Emson.  "We'll have a good long try, and if
+the ostriches don't pay, we'll hunt, as, I know, we've got plenty of
+room out here: we'll have an elephant farm instead, and grow ivory, and
+have a big warehouse for making potted elephant to send and sell at home
+for a breakfast appetiser.  Who's going to give up, eh?  Now, then, what
+about this canter?  The horses want a breather--they're getting fidgety.
+I say, feel better now, old chap, don't you?"
+
+Dyke pinched his lips together and nodded shortly.
+
+"So do I.--Here!  What's that?"
+
+He checked his horse, and pointed far away in the distance.
+
+"Ostrich!" cried Dyke.
+
+"Yes, I saw her rise and start off!  My word! how she is going.  I can
+see the spot where she got up, and must keep my eyes on it.  There's a
+nest there, for a pound.  That means luck this morning.  Come along
+steady.  Lucky I brought the net.  Why, Dyke, old chap, the tide's going
+to turn, and we shall do it yet."
+
+"But the goblin's dead."
+
+"Good job, too.  There's as good ostriches in the desert as ever came
+out, though they are fowl instead of fish.  It's my belief we shall
+snatch out of that nest a better game-cock bird than ever the goblin
+was, and without his temper.  Come along."
+
+Dyke felt glad of the incident occurring when it did, for his mind was
+in a peculiar state just then.  His feelings were mingled.  He felt
+relieved and satisfied by having shifted something off his mind, but at
+the same time there would come a sense of false shame, and a fancy that
+he had behaved childishly, when it was as brave and manly a speech--that
+confession--as ever came from his lips.
+
+All the same, on they rode.  And now the sky looked brighter; there
+seemed to be an elasticity in the air.  Breezy had never carried Dyke so
+well before, and a sensation came over him, making him feel that he must
+shout and sing and slacken his rein, and gallop as hard as the cob could
+go.
+
+"Yohoy there! steady, lad," cried Emson; "not so fast, or I shall lose
+the spot.  It's hard work, little un, keeping your eye on anything, with
+the horse pitching you up and down."
+
+Hard work, indeed, for there was no tree, bush, or hillock out in the
+direction they were taking, and by which the young Englishman could mark
+down the spot where he imagined the nest to be.
+
+So Dyke slackened speed, and with his heart throbbing in a pleasantly
+exhilarated fashion, he rode steadily on beside his brother, feeling as
+if the big fellow were the boy once more whom as a child he used to
+tease and be chased playfully in return.  Emson's way of speaking, too,
+enhanced the feeling.
+
+"I say, little un," he cried, "what a game if there's no nest after all.
+You won't be disappointed, will you?"
+
+"Of course not."
+
+"'Member me climbing the big elm at the bottom of the home-close to get
+the mag's nest?"
+
+"To be sure I do."
+
+"Didn't think we two would ever go bird's-nesting in Africa then, did
+we?"
+
+"No; but do you think there is a nest out yonder, Joe?"
+
+"I do," cried Emson, "I've seen several hen birds about the last few
+days; but I never could make out which way they came or went.  I've been
+on the lookout, too, for one rising from the ground."
+
+"But is this a likely place for a nest?"
+
+"Well, isn't it?  I should say it's the very spot.  Now, just look: here
+we are in an open plain, where a bird can squat down in the sand and
+look around for twenty miles--if she can see so far--in every direction,
+and see danger coming, whether it's a man, a lion, or a jackal, and
+shuffle off her nest, and make tracks long before whatever it is gets
+near enough to make out where she rose.  Of course I don't know whether
+we shall find the nest, if there is one.  It's hard enough to find a
+lark's or a partridge's nest at home in an open field of forty or fifty
+acres; so of course, big though the nest is, and the bird, it's a deal
+harder, out in a field hundreds of miles square, eh?"
+
+"Of course it is."
+
+"'Scuse my not looking round at you when I'm speaking, old chap; but if
+I take my eye off the spot, I shall never find it again."
+
+"I say, don't be so jolly particular, Joe," cried Dyke, laughing.
+
+"Why not?  It's just what you and I ought to be," said the big fellow
+with simple earnestness.  "We're out here in a savage land, but we don't
+want to grow into savages, nor yet to be as blunt and gruff as two
+bears.  I'm not going to forget that the dear old governor at home is a
+gentleman, even if his sons do rough it out here."
+
+"Till they're regular ruffians, Joe.--I say: see the nest?"
+
+"Oh no; it's a mile away yet."
+
+"Then there isn't one.  You couldn't have seen it at all that distance."
+
+"I never said I could see the nest, did I?  It was enough for me that
+I've seen the birds about, and that I caught sight of that one making
+off this morning.  We call them stupid, and they are in some things; but
+they're precious cunning in others."
+
+"But if they were only feeding?"
+
+"Why, then, there's no nest.  But I say breeding, and not feeding; and
+that's rhyme if you take it in time, as the old woman said."
+
+"But you talked about hen birds.  Then there may be more than one nest?"
+
+"Not here.  Why, you know how a lot of them lay in the same nest."
+
+"At home, shut up in pens, but not on the veldt."
+
+"Why, of course they do, and 'tis their nature to, like the bears and
+lions in Dr Watts.  You don't know everything quite yet, old chap.  If
+you took the glass, and came and lay out here for two or three days and
+nights, and always supposing the birds didn't see you--because if they
+did they'd be deserting the nest and go somewhere else--you'd see first
+one hen come to lay and then another, perhaps six of them; and when
+they'd packed the nest as full as it would hold, with the sand banked up
+round the eggs to keep them tight in their places with the points
+downwards, so as to be close, you'd see hen after hen come and take her
+turn, sitting all day, while the cock bird comes at nights and takes his
+turn, because he's bigger and stronger, and better able to pitch into
+the prowling jackals."
+
+"How did you know all this, Joe?"
+
+"Partly observation, partly from what I've heard Jack say," replied
+Emson modestly.  "Everything comes in useful.  I daresay you won't
+repent saving up all those odds and ends of stones and shells and eggs
+you've got at home."
+
+"Why, I often thought you'd feel they were a nuisance, Joe.  I did see
+you laugh at them more than once."
+
+"Smile, old man, smile--that's all.  I like it.  You might grow a
+regular museum out of small beginnings like that."
+
+"Then we ought to have stuffed the goblin," cried Dyke merrily.
+
+"Oh, come, no; that wouldn't do.  Our tin house isn't the British
+Museum; but I would go on collecting bits of ore and things.  You may
+find something worth having one of these days, besides picking up a lot
+of knowledge.  I'd put that piece of old iron the ostrich swallowed
+along with the rest."
+
+"Would you?"
+
+"Yes; but now let's have all eyes, and no tongues, old chap.  We are
+getting near where that bird got up off the nest."
+
+"If there was one."
+
+"If there was one," assented Emson.  "Now then: think you're mushrooming
+out in the old field at home, and see if you can't find the nest.  Move
+off now a couple of hundred yards, and keep your eyes open."
+
+Dyke followed out his brother's advice, and for the next hour they rode
+over the ground here and there, to and fro, and across and across,
+scanning the sandy depressions, till Emson suddenly drew rein, and
+shouted to Dyke, who was a quarter of a mile away.
+
+Dyke sent his cob off at a gallop and joined him.
+
+"Found it?" he cried excitedly.
+
+"No, old fellow.  It's a failure this time.  Man wants sharp eyes to get
+the better of an ostrich.  I made sure we should get it, but we're done.
+We've been over the ground times enough, and it's of no use."
+
+"What! give up?" cried Dyke merrily.  "Didn't say we'd find it the first
+time, but I mean to have that nest, if I try till to-morrow morning."
+
+"Well done, little un," shouted Emson, laughing.  "That's the right
+spirit, and I should like to have had the eggs; it would have started us
+on again.  But I'm afraid we shall be wasting time, for we've lost count
+now of the position where I saw the bird rise, and in this great waste
+we may wander farther and farther away."
+
+"But we can tell by the hoof-marks where we've been."
+
+"Yes; and we've pretty well examined the ground.  I tell you what, we'll
+bring the glass this evening, and lie down watching till dark.  We may
+see a bird come to the nest, and then we'll mark down the place, and one
+shall stop back, while the other rides forward, and number one can
+telegraph which way to go with his arms."
+
+"I am disappointed," said Dyke, looking round about him over the level
+plain.
+
+"So am I, old chap, but we won't be damped.  It's only putting it off.--
+What are you looking at?"
+
+"That," said Dyke; and, kicking his nag's sides, he went off at a canter
+for a couple of hundred yards, and then sent up a joyous shout.
+
+"Why, he has found it!" cried Emson; and galloping up, there sat Dyke,
+flushed and happy, beside a depression in the sand, evidently scraped
+out, and with the sand banked round to keep the eggs in their places.
+There they all were, thirty-nine in number, neatly arranged with their
+points downward, while outside were several more, and on Dyke bending
+down, he found that they were all of a comfortable temperature; those
+lying outside being cold, and apparently freshly laid.
+
+"Well, you have eyes, old chap!" cried Emson, slapping his brother on
+the shoulder, and then proceeding to loosen a coarsely meshed net from
+behind his saddle.  "Bravo, Dyke!  I told you the tide had turned.
+We'll get these home at once and put them under one of our hens.
+Shouldn't wonder if we get a nice little lot of chicks from these."
+
+"If we can get them home without breaking."
+
+"Oh, we'll do that," cried Emson, dismounting and spreading out the net
+upon the sand before they began carefully removing the spoil of the
+nest--that is to say, the eggs, which evidently contained chicks.
+
+This done, the net was folded over and tied here and there so as to form
+a long bag, the ends fastened securely; and each taking an end, they
+mounted, and swinging between them the huge bag, which now weighed
+nearly a hundredweight, started for home.  They left the new-laid eggs
+to be fetched that evening, or next morning, leaving them just as they
+were spread, looking clean and fresh, about the outside of the nest,
+much to Dyke's regret.
+
+"Why, we could manage them too," he said.
+
+"We might, but if we did we should have mixed them up with the others,
+which would be a pity; for if we put them under a bird, they would only
+be addled, whereas if we keep them separate, they will be good either to
+set under another hen, or to eat.  They will not hurt there."
+
+Dyke said no more, but held on tightly to the end of the net, helping
+his brother to keep their horses a sufficient distance apart, so that
+the egg purse might keep well off the ground, and not be shaken too much
+by the horses' gentle pace.
+
+"Wonder what the young birds think of their ride," said Dyke merrily.
+"We shall have one of them chipping an egg presently, and poking out his
+head to see what's the matter, and why things are getting so cold."
+
+"Cold, in this scorching sun!" said Emson; "why it would hatch them out.
+Hold tight."
+
+"Right it is!" cried Dyke in seafaring style.  "I say, what a smash it
+would be if I let go!"
+
+"Ah, it would," said Emson; "but you won't.  Cry stop when you're tired,
+and we'll change hands.--Steady, boy!" he continued to his horse, which
+seemed disposed to increase its speed, and they jogged gently along
+again.
+
+"I always used to read that the ostriches did lay their eggs in the sand
+and leave them for the sun to hatch."
+
+"There is some truth in it," said Emson; "but the old writers didn't get
+to the bottom of it.  The sun would hatch them if it kept on shining,
+but the cold nights would chill the eggs and undo all the day's work.
+It's of a night that the birds sit closest.--Like to change now?"
+
+"Yes: they are getting heavy for one's wrist," said Dyke; and the great
+purse was lowered to the ground, the eggs clicking together as if made
+of china.  Then the brothers changed places and hands; raised the net;
+the horses hung apart again, and the slow journey was resumed.
+
+"Gently!" cried Dyke before they had gone very far.  "If you hang away
+so hard, I shall be dragged out of the saddle."
+
+The tension was relaxed, and they went on again riding by slow degrees
+back to Kopfontein, which they finally reached with their heavy and
+fragile load intact.
+
+Dyke was hungry enough, but they neither ate nor rested till their eggs
+were borne into one of the pens where three hens and their husband had a
+nest which contained only ten eggs, and these were known to be addled,
+for the time was long past for hatching; and upon the brothers
+approaching the nest, there was a great deal of hissing and cackling,
+the cock bird beginning to roar like a lion, and stalking menacingly
+round the net, which he kept on inspecting curiously.
+
+"Be on the lookout for a kick," said Emson, as the net was lowered.
+
+"Oh, he won't kick me--will you, old chap?" cried Dyke, giving the large
+bird a playful poke, which had the effect of sending him off
+remonstrating angrily, as if he resented such liberties being taken with
+his ribs.  For he turned when he reached the fence, and stood fluttering
+his short wings, clucking, and making threatening gestures with his
+head.
+
+The hen bird sitting was much more amenable to their approach, for,
+after a little persuasion, she rose in a very stately way, blinked her
+rather human-looking, eye-lashed optics, and stalked to the other wives
+to stand with them, hissing and cackling a little, while the bad eggs
+were removed and the fresh thirty-nine were put in their place, Emson
+arranging them as regularly as he could in accordance with the bird's
+habits.
+
+But as Dyke handed them to him one by one, they had hard work to get
+them in on account of the impatience displayed by the wives, two of
+which displayed a great eagerness to have first sit upon the nestful,
+and needing to be kept off until all were ready.
+
+Then began a severe quarrel, and a good deal of pecking before the
+youngest and strongest succeeded in mounting upon the nest, shuffling
+the eggs about so as to get them more in accordance with her own idea of
+the fitness of things, and then, when all were in order, she settled
+down with her plumage regularly covering up the eggs, while the other
+birds now looked on.
+
+"Do you double up your perambulators?" said Dyke mockingly.  "Yes,
+madam, I see you do; but pray don't put a toe through either of the
+shells."
+
+The hen uttered a strangely soft clucking kind of noise, as if in reply,
+and there was a peculiar look of satisfaction about the huge tame
+creature as she covered the gigantic clutch.
+
+"So they are," said Dyke--"something like eggs, aren't they?--I say,
+look at the others," he continued, as they stalked off to go apparently
+to discuss the new arrivals with the cock bird over at the other side of
+the enclosure.
+
+"There," said Emson, "you can have these addled eggs cleaned out, Dyke,
+and we'll make chunking cups of them.  When shall we fetch the other
+lot?  This evening?"
+
+"If you like."
+
+"No; we'll leave it till to-morrow, and give the nags a rest."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SIX.
+
+LIONS AT HOME.
+
+Fortune smiled her brightest upon Joseph Emson when they first came up
+the country, travelling for months in their wagon, till Kopfontein, with
+its never-failing spring in the granite chasm, was settled upon as being
+a capital place to carry out the idea of the ostrich-farm.  Then the
+rough house was run up, and in course of time pens and other enclosures
+made, and by very slow degrees stocked with the gigantic birds,
+principally by help of Kaffir servants; Jack showing himself to be very
+clever in finding nests of eggs, but afterwards proving lazy and
+indifferent, excusing himself on the plea that "Baas got all eggs.  No
+more.  All gone."
+
+It seemed to be a capital idea, and promised plenty of success, for at
+first the feathers they obtained from the Kaffirs sold well, making
+capital prices when sent down to Cape Town.  Then the supply from the
+native hunters began to fail; and when at last the young farmers had
+plumes to sell of their own raising, prices had gone down terribly, and
+Emson saw plainly enough that he was losing by his venture.
+
+Then he began to lose his birds by accident, by the destructive
+propensities of the goblin and a vicious old hen or two; and lastly,
+some kind of epidemic, which they dubbed ostrich chicken-pox, carried
+the young birds off wholesale.
+
+Then Dyke began to be damped, and grew dull, and soon his brother became
+low-spirited too, and for a whole year matters had gone on from bad to
+worse; Emson often asking himself whether it was not time to make a
+fresh start, but always coming to the same frame of mind that it was too
+soon to be beaten yet, and keeping a firm upper lip in the presence of
+his brother.
+
+The morning after the finding of the ostrich's nest, they started again,
+taking the net, and keeping a keen lookout in the hope of discovering
+another.
+
+"There's no reason why we should not," said Emson.  "I've been too easy
+with Jack; he has not disturbed the birds around for months."
+
+"I think we can find the nest again," said Dyke.
+
+"Why not?  We'll find it by the footmarks, if we cannot any other way.
+But I think I can ride straight to it."
+
+They kept a sharp lookout, but no ostrich sprang up in the distance and
+sped away like the wind.  About six miles from home, though, something
+else was seen lying right out on the plain, to which Dyke pointed.
+
+"A bird?" cried Emson.  "Yes, I see it.  No; a beast.  Why, Dyke, old
+chap, there are two of them.  What shall we do?  Creep in and try a
+shot, or let them go off?"
+
+"I should try a shot," said the boy excitedly.  "Why, one is a big-maned
+fellow."
+
+"Then perhaps we had better let them alone."
+
+"What! to come and pull down one of the oxen.  No: let's have a shot at
+them."
+
+"Very well," said Emson quietly; "but see that you have a couple of
+bullets in your rifle.  Make sure."
+
+He set the example by opening the breech of his piece, and carefully
+examining the cartridges before replacing them.
+
+"All right," he cried.  "Now, look here, Dyke.  Be ready and smart, if
+the brutes turn upon us to charge.  Sit fast, and give Breezy his head
+then.  No lion would overtake him.  Only you must be prepared for a
+sharp wheel round, for if the brutes come on with a roar, your cob will
+spin about like a teetotum."
+
+But no satisfactory shot was obtained, for when they were about a
+quarter of a mile away, a big, dark-maned lion rose to his feet, stood
+staring at them for nearly a minute, and then started off at a canter,
+closely followed by its companion.
+
+Dyke looked sharply round at his brother, as if to say, "Come on!" but
+Emson shook his head.
+
+"Not to-day, old chap," he cried.  "We're too busy.  It would mean, too,
+a long gallop, tiring our horses before we could get a shot, and then we
+should not be in good condition for aiming."
+
+"Oh, but, Joe, I daresay that is the wretch that killed the white ox,
+and he is hanging about after another."
+
+"To be sure: I forgot that," cried Emson excitedly.  "Come on.  But
+steady: we can't lose sight of them, so let's canter, and follow till
+they stand at bay or sneak into the bushes."
+
+That was more to Dyke's taste, and side by side they followed the two
+lions, as the great tawny-looking beasts cantered over the plain, their
+heads down, tails drooping, and looking, as Dyke said, wonderfully like
+a couple of great cats sneaking off after being found out stealing
+cream.
+
+There was no need to be silent, and Dyke kept on shouting remarks to his
+brother as they cantered on over the dry bush and sand.
+
+"I don't think much of lions, after all, Joe," he said; "they're not
+half kings of beasts like you see in pictures and read of in books."
+
+"You haven't seen one in a rage, old fellow," said Emson
+good-humouredly.
+
+"I don't believe they'd be anything much if they were," said Dyke
+contemptuously.  "They always seem to me to be creeping and sneaking
+about like a cat after a mouse.  Now look at those great strong things
+going off like that, as soon as they see us, instead of roaring at us
+and driving us away."
+
+"Smell powder, perhaps, and are afraid of the guns."
+
+"Well, but if they did, that isn't being brave as a lion, Joe.  Why,
+when they killed the white ox, there were four of them, and they did it
+in the dark.  I don't believe when you shot that the bullet went near
+either of the brutes."
+
+"No, but we scared them off."
+
+"They killed the poor old bullock first, though."
+
+"Well, didn't that give you a good idea of a lion's strength; the poor
+beast's neck was broken."
+
+"Let's show them to-day that we are stronger, and break _their_ necks,"
+said Dyke.  "Look out: they're gone."  For the two great beasts suddenly
+plunged into a patch of broken ground, where great blocks of granite
+stood up from among the bushes, and sheltered them with larger growth.
+
+It was the only hiding-place in sight, and for this the lions had made,
+and now disappeared.
+
+"We shan't get a shot at them now, old chap," cried Emson; "they lie as
+snug as rats among those bushes.  We want old Duke here."
+
+"Oh, don't give up," cried Dyke.  "I know that place well; it's where I
+found the aardvark, and the bushes are quite open.  I am sure we can see
+them."
+
+"Well, as you're so set on it, we'll try; but mind this, no riding in--
+nothing rash, you know."
+
+"Oh, I'll take care," cried Dyke.  "I shan't get hurt.  You only have to
+ride right at them, and they'll run."
+
+"I don't know so much about that, old cocksure; but mind this, horses
+are horses, and I don't want you to get Breezy clawed."
+
+"And I don't want to get him clawed--do I, old merry legs?" cried the
+boy, bending forward to pat his nag's neck.  "Sooner get scratched
+myself, wouldn't I, eh?"
+
+The little horse tossed up its head and shook its mane, and then taking
+his master's caress and words to mean a call upon him for fresh effort,
+he dashed off, and had to be checked.
+
+"Steady, steady, Dyke, boy," cried Emson; "do you hear?"
+
+"Please sir, it wasn't me," replied the boy merrily.  "It was him."
+
+"No nonsense!" cried Emson sternly.  "Steady!  This is not play."
+
+Dyke glanced once at his brother's face as he rode up, and saw that it
+looked hard, earnest, and firm.
+
+"All right, Joe," he said quietly; "I will mind."
+
+The next minute they had cantered gently up to the patch, which was only
+about an acre in extent, and the bushes so thin and scattered that they
+could see nearly across where the lions had entered.
+
+But there was no sign of the cunning beasts.
+
+"Look here, Joe; you ride round that way, and I'll go this; then we are
+sure to see them."
+
+"Capital plan," said Emson sarcastically.  "Bravo, general! weaken your
+forces by one-half, and then if I see them I can't fire for fear of
+hitting you, and you can't fire for fear of hitting me.  Try again,
+clever one."
+
+"Oh, all right, you try," said Dyke, in an offended tone.
+
+"Ride round with me, then, either five yards in front or five behind.
+Will you go first?"
+
+"No, you go," said Dyke distantly.
+
+"Come along, then.  Keep a sharp lookout, and if you get a good chance
+at the shoulder--fire.  Not without."
+
+"Very well," said Dyke shortly, "but you see if they don't sneak out and
+gallop away on the other side."
+
+"They won't leave cover if they can help it," said Emson; and his words
+proved true, for as they rode slowly round with finger on trigger,
+scanning the openings, the cunning brutes glided in and out among the
+great boulders, and crawled through the bushes, so that not a glimpse of
+them could be obtained.
+
+"There!" cried Dyke, after they had ridden round twice.  "I knew it.
+While we were talking on one side, they've crept out on the other and
+gone off!  They're miles away now."
+
+"Exactly!" said Emson; "and that's why the horses are so uneasy.  I say,
+little un, you don't get on so fast as I should like with your hunting
+knowledge.  Look at Breezy."
+
+Dyke glanced at his cob, and the little horse showed plainly enough by
+its movements that whatever might be its master's opinion, it was
+feeling convinced that the lions were pretty close at hand.
+
+"Well, what shall we do--ride through?"
+
+"No," said Emson decidedly, "that would be inviting a charge.  I'm
+afraid we must separate, or we shall never got a shot.  As we ride round
+one side, they creep along on the other."
+
+"Did you see them?"
+
+"No, but look there."
+
+Dyke looked where his brother pointed, and saw plainly marked in the
+soft sand the footprints of the lions.
+
+"Well, let's separate, then," said the boy eagerly.  "I'll mind and not
+shoot your way, if you'll take care not to hit me."
+
+"Very good: we'll try, then; but be careful not to fire unless you get a
+good sure chance.  Look here; this will be the best plan.  One of us
+must sit fast here while the other rides round."
+
+"But the one who stops will get the best chance, for the game will be
+driven towards him.  Who's to stop?"
+
+Emson thrust his hand into his pocket, and drew it out again clenched.
+
+"Something or nothing?" he cried.
+
+"Nothing," said Dyke sharply.
+
+"Nothing.  Right.  Your chance," said Emson.
+
+"Then I'll stay here?"
+
+"Very well then; be ready.  I shall ride ahead, and the lions will sneak
+round till they find you are here, and then they'll either go right
+across, or break cover and gallop off.  There's every chance for a shot.
+Right forward in the shoulder, mind."
+
+"Won't charge me, will they?"
+
+"Not unless they're wounded," replied Emson.--"Ready?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Emson rode slowly off, and as he went he kept on crying "Here!" at every
+half-dozen yards or so, giving his brother a good idea of his position
+and that of the lions too.
+
+Meanwhile Dyke, with his heart beginning to beat heavily, sat facing in
+the other direction, both barrels of his rifled piece cocked and pointed
+forward, nostrils distended like those of his horse, and, also like the
+animal, with every sense on the alert.
+
+"Here--here--here," came from beyond him, and gradually working more and
+more to the left, while Dyke felt a great deal more respect for the
+prowess and daring of lions than he did half an hour before.
+
+The stillness, broken only by his brother's recurring cry, repeated with
+such regularity, seemed awful, and the deep low sigh uttered by Breezy
+sounded quite startling; but there was nothing else--no sound of the
+powerful cats coming cautiously round, winding in and out among the
+rocks and bushes, and not a twig was stirred.
+
+"Here--here--here," kept coming, and Dyke sat gripping the saddle
+tightly with his knees, feeling a curious quiver pass into him from the
+horse's excited nerves, as the swift little beast stood gazing before it
+at the ragged shrubs, ready to spring away on the slightest sign of
+danger.  The rein lay upon its neck, and its ears were cocked right
+forward, while Dyke's double barrel was held ready to fire to right or
+left of those warning ears at the first chance.
+
+There was the clump on the boy's left, the open ground of the veldt on
+his right, and the sun glancing down and making the leaves of the trees
+hot; but still there was nothing but the regular "Here--here--here,"
+uttered in Emson's deep bass.
+
+"They're gone," said Dyke to himself, with a peculiar sense of relief,
+which made his breath come more freely.  "They would have been here by
+now.  I'll shout to Joe."
+
+But he did not.  For at that moment there was the faintest of faint
+rustles about a dozen yards in front.  One of the thin bushes grew
+gradually darker, and Dyke had a glimpse of a patch of rough hair raised
+above the leaves.  Then Breezy started violently, and in an instant two
+lions started up.
+
+"_How_!--_Haugh_!" was roared out.  The maneless lion bounded out of the
+bushes, and went away over the sand in a series of tremendous leaps,
+while the companion, a huge beast with darkly-tipped mane, leaped as if
+to follow, but stopped and faced the boy, with head erect and tail
+lashing from side to side, while the horse stood paralysed with fear,
+its legs far apart, as if to bear the coming charge, and every nerve and
+muscle on the quiver.
+
+Dyke sat motionless during those brief moments, knowing that he ought to
+fire, but feeling as if he were suffering from nightmare, till the
+majestic beast before him gave vent to a tremendous roar, turned, and
+bounded away.
+
+Then Dyke's power of action came back.  Quick as a flash, his piece was
+to his shoulder, and he fired; but the lion bounded onward, hidden for
+the time by the smoke; yet as it cleared away, the boy had another clear
+view of the beast end on, and fired once more.
+
+At this there was a savage snarl; the lion made a bound sidewise, and
+then swung round as if to charge back at its assailant, when Breezy tore
+off at full speed, but had not gone fifty yards before another shot rang
+out, and Dyke looked round to see his brother dismounted and kneeling on
+the sand, while the lion was trailing itself along with its
+hind-quarters paralysed.
+
+In another minute Emson had remounted and ridden up to the dangerous
+beast; there was another report from close quarters, and the lion rolled
+over and straightened itself out.
+
+"Dead?" cried Dyke excitedly, as he mastered Breezy's objections, and
+rode up.
+
+"Yes; he'll kill no more of our oxen, old chap," cried his brother.
+"Well done, little un!  You stopped him splendidly.  That last shot of
+yours brought him up for me to finish."
+
+"Think I hit him, then?"
+
+"Think?" said Emson, laughing.  "You can easily prove it.  Your bullet
+must have hit him end on.  Mine were on his left flank."
+
+"He _is_ dead, isn't he?" said Dyke dubious.
+
+"As dead as he can well be," said Emson, dismounting, and throwing his
+rein over his horse's head.  "Yes; here we are.  Your bullet caught him
+half-way up the back here; one of mine hit him in the side, and here's
+the other right through the left shoulder-blade.  That means finis.  But
+that shot of yours regularly paralysed him behind.  _Your_ lion, little
+un, and that skin will do for your museum.  It's a beauty."
+
+"But _you_ killed him," said the boy modestly.
+
+"Put him out of his misery, that's all.  He is a splendid fellow,
+though.  But he won't run away now, little un.--Let's get on."
+
+"But his skin?" said Dyke eagerly.
+
+"Too hard a job now, Dyke, under this sun.  We'll come over this evening
+with Jack, and strip that off.  Now for the eggs."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SEVEN.
+
+LIFE ON THE VELDT.
+
+The task of finding the emptied ostrich nest proved harder than they
+expected; but their ride across the barren plain was made interesting by
+the sight of a herd of gnus and a couple of the beautiful black
+antelope, with their long, gracefully curved, sharp horns.  Just before
+reaching the nest, too, they had the rather unusual sight, in their
+part, of half-a-dozen giraffes, which went off in their awkward,
+lumbering trot toward the north.
+
+At last, though, the nest was reached, the scattered eggs gathered into
+the net, and heedless of these chinking together a little, as they hung
+between them, they cantered on.
+
+"Won't do them any good shaking them up so, will it?" said Dyke.
+
+"I've given up all idea of setting these," said Emson.  "I should say it
+would be very doubtful whether they would hatch, and we want a little
+change in the way of feeding, old fellow.  We'll see which are addled,
+and which are not."
+
+Tanta Sal was at the door as they rode up, and her face expanded
+largely, especially about the eyes and mouth, at the sight of the eggs.
+
+"I say, look at Tant," said Dyke merrily.  "Did you ever see such a
+face?"
+
+"Never," replied Emson quietly.  "She's not beautiful from our point of
+view."
+
+"Beautiful!"
+
+"Tastes differ, old chap," said Emson.  "No doubt Jack thought her very
+nice-looking.  English people admire small mouths and little waists.  It
+is very evident that the Kaffirs do not; and I don't see why a small
+mouth should be more beautiful than a large one."
+
+"And there isn't so much of it," cried Dyke.
+
+"Certainly not, and it is not so useful.  No: Tant is not handsome, but
+she can cook, and I don't believe that Venus could have fetched water
+from the spring in two buckets half so well."
+
+"Don't suppose she could, or made fires either," said Dyke, laughing.
+
+"Very good, then, little un.  Tant is quite good-looking enough for
+us.--Hi! there, old girl, take these and keep them cool.  Cook one for
+dinner."
+
+The woman nodded, took the net, swung it over her back, and the next
+minute the creamy-white eggs were seen reposing on the dark skin.
+
+After seeing to the horses, Dyke made some remark to his brother about
+wanting his corn too, and he went quietly round to the back, where Tant
+was busy over the fire, preparing one of the eggs by cooking it _au
+naturel_, not boiling in a saucepan, but making the thick shell itself
+do duty for one.
+
+She looked up and showed her teeth as Dyke came in sight, and then went
+on with her work, which was that of stirring the egg, whose treatment
+was very simple.  She had chipped a little hole in one end, big enough
+to admit a stick, and had placed the other end deep down in the glowing
+dry cake ashes, squatting down on her heels on one side of the fire,
+while Jack sat in a similar position on the other, watching his wife as
+she kept on stirring the egg with the piece of wood.
+
+"Oh there you are, Jack," said Dyke; "we've shot a big lion."
+
+"Baas kill?"
+
+"Yes.  You're coming with us to skin it this evening?"
+
+The Kaffir shook his head, and then lowered it upon one hand, making a
+piteous grimace.
+
+"Jack sick, bad," he said.
+
+"Jack no sick bad," cried Tanta, leaping up angrily.
+
+As she spoke, she raised one broad black foot, and gave her husband a
+sharp thrust in the ribs, with the result that he rolled over and then
+jumped up furiously to retaliate.
+
+"Ah, would you!" cried Dyke; and the dog, which had followed him, began
+to growl.  "Yes, you hit her, and I'll set Duke at you," cried Dyke.
+"Can't you see he's ashamed?"
+
+Jack growled fiercely, and his wife reseated herself upon her heels, and
+went on stirring the egg again, laughing merrily the while.
+
+"No sick bad," she said; and then wanting to say something more, she
+rattled off a series of words, all oom and click, for Jack's benefit,
+the Kaffir listening the while.
+
+The egg was soon after declared to be done, and formed a very
+satisfactory omelette-like addition to the hard biltong and mealie cake
+which formed the ostrich-farmers' dinner.
+
+"I'd a deal rather we'd shot an antelope, Joe," said Dyke, as he ground
+away at the biltong, that popular South African delicacy, formed by
+cutting fresh meat into long strips, and drying them in the sun before
+the flesh has time to go bad--a capital plan in a torrid country, where
+decomposition is rapid and salt none too plentiful; but it has its
+drawbacks, and is best suited to the taste of those who appreciate the
+chewing of leather with a superlatively high flavour of game.
+
+"Yes, it is time we had some fresh meat, old chap," said Emson
+good-humouredly.  "After that slice of luck with the birds, we'll try
+for some guinea-fowl or a springbok in the morning."
+
+"I wish we had a river nearer where we could fish," said Dyke, as he
+worked away at the dried meat.
+
+"Yes, it would be handy, if we could catch any fish; but we usen't to
+get a great many--not enough to live on--in the old days at home."
+
+"Not often," said Dyke.  "I say, it is tough."
+
+"Well, yes.  A well-beaten-out piece would not make a bad shoe sole,
+little un.  But about that fishing?  It would take a great many of those
+sticklebacks you always would fish for with a worm to make a dish."
+
+"Well, they used to bite, and that's more than your carp would, Joe.
+Why, you only used to catch about one a month."
+
+"But, then, look at the size.  One did make a dish."
+
+"Yes, of only head and bones.  Ugh!  I'd rather eat biltong."
+
+Emson laughed good-humouredly.
+
+"Well," he said, "we can't go fishing without we make a hundred miles'
+journey, so we can't get fish.  How would a lion steak eat?"
+
+"Worse than a cut out of the poor old goblin's breast.  But, I say, are
+we to go and skin that old savage to-night?"
+
+"I'll go with Jack, and do it, if you're tired."
+
+"That you won't," cried Dyke.  "But, I say, Jack's bad sick he says."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so.  He generally is now, when we want him to work.
+We've spoiled Master Jack by feeding him too well; and if it wasn't for
+Tanta Sal, Master Jack would have to go upon his travels.  That woman's
+a treasure, little un.  She's a capital cook; and what a wonderful thing
+it is that it comes so natural to a woman, whether she's white or black,
+to like washing shirts.  Do you know, I believe that Tanta Sal would
+take to starching and ironing if she had a chance.  Have any more?"
+
+"No: done," said Dyke, wiping his knife carefully, and returning it to
+the sheath he wore in his belt.
+
+"Then let's go and have a look at the chickens.  Why, the other day I
+felt as if I could open all the pens and say to the birds, `There, be
+off with you, for you're no good.'"
+
+"But now you're going to have another good try."
+
+"Yes; and we must give them greater liberty, and try to let them live in
+a more natural way."
+
+"And that means always hunting them and driving them back to the pens."
+
+"We shan't mind that if they all turn out healthy," said Emson.  "Come
+along."
+
+"Wait till I call Tant," said Dyke; and he went out to the back to
+summon the Kaffir woman, who came in smiling, cleared away, and then
+proceeded to feed her lord; Duke, the dog, waiting for his turn, and not
+being forgotten.
+
+It was like playing at keeping bantams in Brobdingnag, Dyke said, as
+they entered the pens pretty well provided with food for the birds, and
+going from enclosure to enclosure, armed each with a stout stick,
+necessitated by the manners and customs of their charge.  For though it
+was plain sailing enough scattering out food for the young birds, which
+stalked about looking very solemn and stupid, the full-grown and
+elderly, especially the cocks, displayed a desire for more, to which
+"glutton" would be far too mild a term to apply; while the goblin's
+successor, as king of the farm, seemed to have become so puffed up with
+pride at his succession to the throne, that the stick had to be applied
+several times in response to his insatiable and aggressive demands.
+
+But at last the feeding was done, the hens in attendance on the nest of
+eggs visited, where all seemed satisfactory, and then the horses were
+saddled, and Jack and Duke summoned.
+
+The latter dashed up instantly; but Jack made no reply.
+
+"Yes, he is spoiled," said Emson.  "It has always seemed to be so much
+less trouble to saddle our own horses than to see that he did it
+properly; but we ought to have made him do it, little un."
+
+"Of course we ought," said Dyke.  "It isn't too late to begin now?"
+
+"I'm afraid it is," said Emson.--"Here!  Hi!  Jack," he shouted; and the
+dog supplemented the cry by running toward the house, barking loudly,
+with the result that the Kaffir woman came out, saw at a glance what was
+wanted, and turned back.
+
+The next minute there was a scuffling noise heard behind the place,
+accompanied by angry protesting voices, speaking loudly in the Kaffir
+tongue.
+
+Then all at once Jack appeared, carrying three assegais, and holding
+himself up with a great deal of savage dignity; but as he approached he
+was struck on the back of the head by a bone.  He turned back angrily,
+but ducked down to avoid a dry cake of fuel, and ended by running to
+avoid further missiles, with his dignity all gone, for Tanta Sal's
+grinning face peeped round the corner, and she shouted: "Jack bad sick,
+baas.  All eat--seep."
+
+"Yes; that's what's the matter, Jack," said Emson, shaking his head at
+him.  "Now take hold of the horse's mane, and I'll give you a good
+digestive run."
+
+There was no help for it.  Jack seized the mane and trotted off beside
+the horse, while a derisive shout came from behind the house, and
+Tanta's grinning face re-appeared.
+
+This was too much for Jack, who turned to shake his assegais at her: the
+movement was unpropitious, for he stumbled and fell, but gathered
+himself up, caught up to the horse, and trotted on again, keeping on in
+the most untiring way, till a flight of carrion birds was sighted,
+hovering about the granite boulders, and perching here and there, as if
+ready for the banquet to come.
+
+Duke charged forward at this, and the birds scattered, but did not go
+far; while the dog's approach started half-a-dozen jackals from among
+the bushes to which they had retired, and they now began scurrying over
+the plain.  "I wonder how they find out that there's anything dead,
+Joe," said Dyke; "we did not see a single jackal or bird this morning."
+
+"Eyesight," said Emson quietly.  "The vultures are sailing about on
+high, and one sees the dead animal; then other vultures see him making
+for it, and follow."
+
+"And the jackals see the vultures, and follow too?"
+
+"That seems to be the way, old fellow.  Anyhow, they always manage to
+find out where there's anything to eat."
+
+"I say, don't he look big?" said Dyke, as the carcass of the dead lion
+lay now well in sight.
+
+"Yes; he's one of the finest I have seen.  You ought to get the teeth
+out of his head, little un; they'd do to save up for your museum."
+
+"I will," said Dyke.
+
+The next minute they had dismounted, and were removing the horses'
+bridles to let them pick off the green shoots of the bushes.  The rifles
+had been laid down, and Duke had gone snuffing about among the rocks,
+while Jack was proceeding to sharpen the edge of one of his assegais,
+when the dog suddenly gave tongue.  There was a furious roar, the horses
+pressed up together, and from close at hand a lion, evidently the
+companion of that lying dead, sprang out and bounded away, soon placing
+itself out of shot.
+
+"Ought to have been with us this morning," said Dyke, as he called back
+the dog.
+
+"Couldn't have done better if we had had him," said Emson, quietly
+rolling up his sleeves, an example followed by the boy.
+
+"Think that one will come back again?" was the next remark.
+
+"Not while we are here," was Emson's reply; and then, as the evening was
+drawing on, he set to work helping Jack, who was cleverly running the
+point and edge of his assegai through the skin from the lion's chin to
+tail, and then inside each leg right down to the toes.
+
+A busy time ensued, resulting in the heavy skin being removed uninjured,
+and rolled up and packed across Emson's horse.
+
+"You'll have to leave the teeth till another day," said Emson, as the
+stars began to peep out faintly, and they trotted homeward; but before
+they had left the carcass a couple of hundred yards, a snapping,
+snarling, and howling made Duke stop short and look inquiringly up at
+his masters, as much as to say:
+
+"Are you going to let them do that?"  But at a word he followed on
+obediently, and the noise increased.
+
+"Won't be much lion left by to-morrow morning, Joe," said Dyke.
+
+"No, boy.  Africa is well scavengered, what with the jackals, birds, and
+flies.  But we'd better get that skin well under cover somewhere when we
+are back."
+
+"Why?  Think the jackals will follow, and try and drag it away?"
+
+"No; I was feeling sure that the other lion would."
+
+Emson was right, for Dyke was awakened that night by the alarm of the
+horses and oxen, who gave pretty good evidence of the huge cat's being
+near, but a couple of shots from Emson's gun rang out, and the animals
+settled down quietly once again, there being no further disturbance that
+night on the lonely farm.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER EIGHT.
+
+THE DESERT HERDS.
+
+"I tell you what, little un," said Emson some mornings later, "I'm going
+to start a crest and motto, and I'll take a doubled fist for the crest,
+and _Nil desperandum_ for motto."
+
+"And what good will that do you?" said Dyke, hammering away as he knelt
+on the sand with the lion's skull held between his knees.
+
+"What good!  Why, I shall always have my motto before me--`Never
+despair,' and the doubled fist to--"
+
+"To show that you are always ready to punch Kaffir Jack's head," cried
+Dyke quickly; and bang went the hammer on the end of the cold chisel the
+boy held.
+
+"No," said Emson, laughing--"to denote determination."
+
+"`Inasmuch as to which?' as the Yankee said in his book.--Pincers,
+please.  Here, what have you done with those pincers, Joe?"
+
+"Haven't touched them.  They're underneath you, stupid."
+
+"Oh, ah! so they are," said Dyke; and picking them up, he took careful
+hold of one of the lion's tusks, after loosening it with the hammer and
+chisel, and dragged it out without having injured the enamel in the
+least.
+
+The two sharply-pointed fangs had been extracted from the lower jaw, and
+Dyke was busily operating on the skull, which was, like the bones
+scattered here and there, picked quite clean, the work of the jackals
+and vultures having been finished off by the ants; and as Dyke held up
+the third tusk in triumph, his brother took the piece of curved ivory
+and turned it over in his hand, while Duke and the horses seemed to be
+interested spectators.
+
+"Magnificent specimen of a canine tooth," said Emson thoughtfully.
+
+Dyke laughed.
+
+"I know better than that.  It can't be."
+
+"Can't?  But it is," replied Emson.  "What do you mean?"
+
+"Canine means dog, doesn't it?  Dog's teeth can't grow in a big cat.
+It's a feline tooth."
+
+"They can grow in human jaws--in yours, for instance.  You have four
+canine teeth, as the naturalists call them; so why can't they grow in a
+lion's?"
+
+"Because it's unnatural," said Dyke, beginning to chip away some of the
+jawbone from around the last tusk.  "Canine teeth can grow in my jaws,
+because you said one day that I was a puppy."
+
+"I say, don't, little un.  You're growing too clever, and attempts at
+jokes like that don't seem to fit out here in this hungry desert.  Mind
+what you are about, or you'll spoil the tooth."
+
+"I'm minding; but what did you mean about your _Nil desperandum_?"
+
+"That I'll never despair.  When we've tried everything we can out here,
+and failed, we'll go back home and settle in London.  Something always
+turns up, and you're so handy, that we'll start as dentists, and you
+shall extract all the teeth."
+
+"All right, Joe.  My word! this is a tight one.  But people wouldn't
+have their teeth taken out with hammer and chisel."
+
+"You could use laughing gas."
+
+"They wouldn't laugh much, gas or no gas," cried Dyke, "if I got hold of
+their teeth with the pincers, like this.  I say, this is a tough one.
+He never had toothache in this.  You have a go: your muscles are
+stronger than mine."
+
+"No; have another try."
+
+"But it makes me so hot."
+
+"Never mind.  Remember my crest and motto--doubled fist for
+determination, and `Never despair.'"
+
+"Who's going to despair over a big tooth?" cried Dyke, holding on to the
+pincers with both hands, giving a good wrench, and tearing out the tusk.
+"That's got him.  Phew! it was a job.  I say, they'll look well as
+curiosities."
+
+"Yes, they're a fine set," said Emson, taking out his little double
+glass, and beginning slowly to sweep the plain.
+
+"See anything?" asked Dyke, as he rose to his feet, and put the hammer,
+chisel, and pincers in a leather case buckled behind his saddle, and
+washed his hands, drily, in sand.
+
+"Not yet."
+
+"Oh, do see something!  We must get a buck of some kind to take home
+with us."
+
+"Yes, we ought to get something, or Jack will forsake us because we are
+starving him; and take away his wife.  You'll have to cook then, little
+un."
+
+"Won't matter, if there's nothing to cook," said Dyke sharply.  "But, I
+say, Joe, you do think we are getting on better with the birds?  Only
+two chicks have died since we took home those eggs."
+
+"Only two," said Emson, rather bitterly.  "That's one a week.  Easily
+calculate how long we shall be in getting to the end of our stock."
+
+"I say, what about your motto?  Who's looking on the black side?"
+
+"Guilty, my lord.  Come along; jump up.  We will have something or
+another to take back for a roast."
+
+Dyke sprang upon his horse, the dog gave a joyful bark, and they
+cantered off, Dyke placing his rifle on his rein hand, while he
+rearranged the tusks in his pocket, to keep them from rattling.
+
+"Which way are we going?" he said.
+
+"Let's try west; we may perhaps see ostriches."
+
+"Oh, don't talk about them," cried Dyke; "I do get so tired of the
+wretches.  I say, that young cock number two showed fight at me this
+morning, and kicked.  He just missed my leg."
+
+"What?  Oh, you must be careful, old chap.  I can't afford to have your
+leg broken.  But, I say, I had a look at the stores this morning before
+we started."
+
+"I saw you, and wondered what you were doing."
+
+"The mealie bag is nearly empty.  One of us will have to take the wagon
+across to old Morgenstein's and buy stores."
+
+"Why not both go?  It would make a change."
+
+"I'll tell you, little un.  When we got back, half the birds would be
+dead, and the other half all over the veldt."
+
+"Oh, bother those old ostriches! they're always in the way," cried Dyke.
+"All right, Joe; I'll stop and mind them, only don't be longer than you
+can help."
+
+"I can't see how it can be done in less than ten days, old fellow," said
+Emson thoughtfully; "and if the old Boer is away, it may take a
+fortnight."
+
+"All right; I won't mind," said Dyke with a sigh.  "I'll take care of
+the place, and I'm going to try some new plans.  There shan't be a
+single bird die.  I say, oughtn't those young birds to be out by now?"
+
+"I've been expecting them every day for a week," said Emson, rather
+dolefully.  "But, look here, little un: if you took Jack with you, do
+you think you could manage the journey yourself?"
+
+Dyke turned on his horse and looked quite startled.
+
+"There's the driving."
+
+"Jack would drive," said Emson hastily.
+
+"And the inspanning and outspanning."
+
+"Which he could see to."
+
+"And camping out in the wagon alone."
+
+"Yes: you'd want good fires every night; but I can't help it, old
+fellow.  Only one could go, and you'd be happier with the work and
+excitement than you would be moping at the house, all alone, and
+watching for me to come back."
+
+"But that would be just as bad for you, Joe; and you'd be thinking that
+the lions had got me."
+
+"No, I shouldn't; but I should be trembling for the oxen, my boy.
+There, I've made up my mind to send you, and you'll go."
+
+"Oh, I'll go," said Dyke sturdily; "but why not go to Oom Schlagen? it's
+twenty miles nearer.  He has a much better lot of things and is more
+civil than Morgenstern."
+
+"Yes, I know all that, little un," said Emson; "but Morgenstern is
+honest.  He charges well for his corn and meal, but he'll give you just
+measure, and will deal with you as fairly as he would with me.  Old
+Uncle Schlagen would, as soon as he saw you--a boy--coming alone, set to
+work to see if he couldn't rob you of a span of oxen, saying they were
+his, and trick you over the stores in every way he could."
+
+"Then I'll go to old Morningstar's."
+
+"You won't mind going?"
+
+"Oh yes, I shall, because it will be so lonely; but I'll go."
+
+"I don't like sending you, little un; and there's another difficulty."
+
+"Oh, never mind that; it's all difficulties out here."
+
+"True; but some are bigger than others."
+
+"Well, what's the big one now?" said Dyke contemptuously, as if he had
+grown so hardened that he could face anything.
+
+"Jack," said Emson laconically.
+
+"What!  Jack?  Yes, he'd better be," cried Dyke.  "If he gives me any of
+his nonsense, he'll have a rap over the head with the barrel of my gun."
+
+"How much of that is honest pluck, old chap, and how much bunkum?" said
+Emson, speaking very seriously.
+
+"I don't know," cried Dyke, colouring; "I don't think there's any bounce
+in it, Joe.  I meant it honestly."
+
+"But he is a man, and you are a boy."
+
+"Oh yes, he's a man, and he bullies and threatens Tanta Sal, and makes
+believe that he is going to spear her, and directly she rushes at him,
+he runs.  I don't think I should be afraid of Jack."
+
+"Neither do I, little un," cried Emson warmly.  "That will do.  I was
+nervous about this.  I felt that he might begin to show off as soon as
+you two were away from me, and if he fancied that you were afraid of
+him, he would be master to the end of the journey."
+
+"But if it came to a row, Joe, and I was horribly afraid of him, I
+wouldn't let him see it.  Perhaps I should be, but--Oh no, I wouldn't
+let him know."
+
+"That'll do, old fellow," said Emson, looking at his brother proudly.
+"You shall go, and I'll take care of the stock and--Here!  Look, look!"
+
+This last in a tone of intense excitement, for a herd of zebra seemed
+suddenly to have risen out of the ground a couple of miles away, where
+nothing had been visible before, the beautifully striped, pony-like
+animals frisking and capering about, and pausing from time to time to
+browse on the shoots of the sparsely spread bushes.  There were hundreds
+of them, and the brothers sat watching them for some minutes.
+
+"Not what I should have chosen for food," said Emson at last; "but they
+say they are good eating."
+
+"There's something better," said Dyke, pointing.  "I know they are
+good."
+
+"Yes, we know they are good," said Emson softly, as he slipped out of
+the saddle, Dyke following his example, and both sheltered themselves
+behind their horses.
+
+"They haven't noticed us," said Emson, after a pause.  "Mixed us up with
+the zebras, perhaps."
+
+"They're coming nearer.  Why, there's quite a herd of them!" cried Dyke
+excitedly.
+
+They stood watching a little group of springbok playing about beyond the
+herd of zebra--light, graceful little creatures, that now came careering
+down toward them, playfully leaping over each other's backs, and proving
+again and again the appropriate nature of their name.
+
+And now, as if quite a migration of animals was taking place across the
+plain, where for months the brothers had wandered rarely seeing a head,
+herd after herd appeared of beautiful deer-like creatures.  They came
+into sight from the dim distance--graceful antelopes of different kinds,
+with straight, curved, or lyre-shaped horns; fierce-looking gnus, with
+theirs stumpy and hooked; ugly quaggas; and farthest off of all, but
+easily seen from their size, great, well-fed elands, ox-like in girth.
+
+"I never saw anything like this, Joe," said Dyke in a whisper.
+
+"Few people ever have in these days, old fellow," said Emson, as he
+feasted his eyes.  "This must be like it used to be in the old times
+before so much hunting took place.  It shows what an enormous tract of
+unexplored land there must be off to the north-west."
+
+"And will they stay about here now?"
+
+"What for?  To starve?  Why, Dyke, lad, there is nothing hardly to keep
+one herd.  No; I daresay by this time to-morrow there will hardly be a
+hoof.  They will all have gone off to the north or back to the west.  It
+is quite a migration."
+
+"I suppose they take us for some kind of six-legged horse, or they would
+not come so near."
+
+"At present.  Be ready; they may take flight at any moment, and we must
+not let our fresh-meat supply get out of range."
+
+"'Tisn't in range yet," said Dyke quietly.
+
+"No, but it soon will be."
+
+"What are you going to shoot at?--the springbok, and then mount and
+gallop after them and shoot again, like the Boers do?"
+
+"What! with big antelope about?  No, boy; we want our larder filling up
+too badly.  Look: impalas; and at those grand elands."
+
+"I see them; but they must be a mile away."
+
+"Quite; but they are coming in this direction.  Dyke, boy, we must make
+up our mind to get one of these."
+
+"But we could never get it home.  They're bigger than bullocks."
+
+"Let's shoot one, and then talk of getting it home.  What about a span
+of oxen and a couple of hurdles!  We could drag it back, and it would
+make biltong, and so last us for weeks."
+
+"Ugh!  Leather!" cried Dyke.
+
+"And give us plenty of fresh meat for present eating, and fat to cook
+for months."
+
+"Don't make my mouth water too much, Joe."
+
+"Hush!  Be quiet now; move close up to your horse's shoulder, rest your
+gun across it, and then you will be better hidden.  Are you loaded all
+right?"
+
+"Bullet in each barrel."
+
+"That will do.  Now mind, if we do get a chance at one, you will aim
+just at the shoulder.  Try and don't be flurried."
+
+"All right."
+
+"Give him both barrels, so as to make sure.  Try and fire when I do."
+
+Dyke nodded, and they waited for fully two hours, during which time
+zebras, quaggas, and various kinds of antelopes charged down near them,
+startled by the sight of the two curious-looking horses, standing so
+patiently there in the middle of the plain, and after halting nervously,
+they careered away again, the trampling of their feet sounding like the
+rush of a storm.
+
+Again and again the hunters had opportunities for bringing down goodly,
+well-fed antelope, when a herd bounded up, wheeled, halted, and stood at
+gaze; but there in the background were the great eland, each coming
+slowly and cautiously on, as if they had also been surprised by the
+aspect of the horses, and were curious to know what manner of creatures
+these might be.
+
+Dyke wanted to say "Let's shoot;" but his lips did not part, and he
+stood patiently watching at one time, impatiently at another, feeling as
+he did that his brother was letting a magnificent chance go by.
+
+Twice over the position was startling, when first a herd of quaggas and
+then one of gnus charged down upon them, and Dyke felt that the next
+minute he would be trampled under foot by the many squadrons of
+wild-eyed, shaggy little creatures.  But the horses stood fast,
+comforted and encouraged by the presence of their masters, while the
+fierce-looking herds halted, stood, stamped, and tossed their heads, and
+went off again.
+
+At last, when hundreds upon hundreds of the various antelopes had
+passed, the elands were still browsing about, nearly half a mile away,
+and seemed not likely to come any nearer.  A herd of smaller antelopes
+were between them and the hunters, and there appeared to be no
+likelihood of their firing a shot.
+
+"I'll give them a few minutes longer, Dyke," whispered Emson, "and then
+we must, if they don't come, go after them."
+
+"Wouldn't it be better to pick off a couple of these?" said Dyke softly.
+
+"No; we must have one of those elands.  We shall have to ride one down,
+and when we get close, leap off and fire.  Be ready for when I say
+`Mount.'"
+
+Dyke nodded smartly, and waited impatiently for a full quarter of an
+hour, during which they had chance after chance at small fry; but the
+elands still held aloof.
+
+All at once Emson's voice was heard in a low whisper: "Do you see that
+fat young bull with the dark markings on its back and shoulders?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"That is the one we must ride for.--Ready!  Mount, and off."
+
+They sprang into their saddles together, and dashed off to follow the
+elands, while at their first movements the whole plain was covered with
+the startled herds, one communicating its panic to the other.  There was
+the rushing noise of a tremendous storm; but Dyke in the excitement saw
+nothing, heard nothing, but the elands, which went tearing away in their
+long, lumbering gallop, the horses gaining upon them steadily, and the
+herd gradually scattering, till the young bull was all alone, closely
+followed by the brothers; Emson dexterously riding on the great brute's
+near side, and edging it off more and more so as to turn its head in the
+direction of Kopfontein; hunting it homeward, so that, if they were
+successful at last in shooting it, the poor brute would have been
+helping to convey itself part of the way, no trifling advantage with so
+weighty a beast.
+
+On and on at a breakneck gallop, the horses stretching out like
+greyhounds in the long race; but the eland, long and lumbering as it
+was, kept ahead.  Its companions were far behind, and the plain, which
+so short a time before had been scattered with herds of various animals,
+now seemed to have been swept clear once more.
+
+At last the tremendous pace began to tell upon both horses and eland,
+while the difficulty of driving it in the required direction grow less.
+But all at once, rendered savage by the persistency of the pursuit, the
+great antelope turned toward the horses and charged straight at Dyke.
+
+The boy was so much astonished at this sudden and unexpected attack that
+he would have been overturned, but for the activity of Breezy, who
+wheeled round, gave one bound, and just carried his rider clear.
+
+It was no light matter, and Dyke wondered that, in the sudden twist
+given to his loins by the cob's spring round, he had not been unhorsed.
+
+But the eland did not attempt to renew the attack, gathering up its
+forces and bearing away for the distant herds, with Duke snapping at its
+flank; and the chase was again renewed, with Emson's horse beginning to
+lose ground, while Breezy seemed to have been roused to greater effort.
+
+Emson shouted something to Dyke, who was some distance to the left, but
+what it was the boy did not hear.  He had one idea in his mind, and that
+was to secure the game so necessary to their existence, and to this end
+he urged his cob on, getting it at last level with the great antelope,
+which was a few yards to his right.
+
+It was all a chance, he knew, but Emson was beaten, and the antelope
+seemed ready to go on for hours; so, waiting his time, he checked his
+speed a little, and let the animal go on while he rode to the other side
+and brought it on his left.
+
+There was good reason for the act.  He could now let the barrel of his
+heavy piece rest upon his left arm, as he held it pistol-wise, and at
+last, when well abreast, he levelled it as well as he could, aiming at
+the broad shoulder, and fired.
+
+A miss, certainly, and then he galloped on for another hundred yards
+before he ventured to draw trigger again, this time watchfully, for fear
+of a sudden turn and charge, and not till he was pretty close and
+perfectly level.
+
+Breezy was in full stride, and going in the most elastic way in spite of
+the long run, but the eland was labouring heavily, as Dyke drew trigger,
+felt the sharp, jerking recoil shoot right up his arm to the shoulder;
+and then to his astonishment, as he dashed on out of the smoke, he was
+alone, and the eland lying fifty yards behind, where it had come down
+with a tremendous crash.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER NINE.
+
+A QUEER PREDICAMENT.
+
+"Bravo! splendid!" panted Emson, as he and his brother met by the side
+of the dead eland, upon whose flank Duke had mounted, and stood with his
+red tongue out, too much run down to bark.  "Why, Dyke, lad, how did you
+manage it?  Right through the shoulder.  You couldn't have done better
+at a stationary target."
+
+"All chance," said the boy, panting as heavily as the dog; and lowering
+himself off his nag, he loosened the girths, and then sank at full
+length upon the sand.
+
+"Tired?"
+
+"Thirsty," replied the boy.
+
+"That you must bear, then, till I come back."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"To fetch Jack and a span of bullocks.  I won't be longer than I can
+help.  Keep Duke with you, but don't leave the game.  One moment: make a
+fire, and cook yourself a steak."
+
+"Stop and have some, Joe."
+
+"No time," said Emson, and he strode away, leaving his brother alone
+with the great antelope and his two dumb companions.
+
+"Well, I didn't reckon upon this," said Dyke, as he lay upon his side
+watching his brother's figure grow slowly more distant, for he was
+walking beside his horse, which hung its head, and kept giving its tail
+an uneasy twitch.  "Not very cheerful to wait here hours upon hours; and
+how does he know that I've got any matches?  Fortunately I have."
+
+There was a pause during which his cob gave itself a shake which
+threatened to send the saddle underneath it, an act which brought Dyke
+to his feet for the purposes of readjustment.
+
+This done, and feeling not quite so breathless from exertion and
+excitement, he walked round the great antelope.
+
+"Well, it was all chance," he said to himself.  "The first shot was an
+awful miss.  Good job for us there was so much to shoot at.  I could
+hardly miss hitting that time.  What a bit of luck, though.  A big bit
+of luck, for we wanted the fresh meat very badly."
+
+After scanning the goodly proportions of the animal for some time, it
+struck the boy that he had not reloaded his rifled gun, and this he
+proceeded to do, opening the breech, taking out the empty brass
+cartridges, carefully saving them for refilling, and then putting his
+hand to the canvas pouch in which the cartridges were packed.
+
+His hand stopped there, and, hot as he was, he felt a shiver pass
+through him.
+
+There was not a single cartridge left.
+
+Dyke stood there, half-stunned.
+
+Had he forgotten them?  No, he had felt them since he started; but where
+they were now, who could say?  All he could think was that they must
+have been jerked out during the violent exertion of the ride.
+
+How his heart leaped.  They were in the leather pouch, which he had
+slung from his shoulder by a strap, and the excitement had made him
+forget this.  "What a good--"
+
+That pouch was gone.  The buckle of the strap had come unfastened, and
+it was lost, and there was he out in the middle of that plain, with the
+carcass of the antelope to act as a bait to attract lions or other
+fierce brutes, and he was without any means of defence but his knife and
+his faithful dog.
+
+The knife was sharp, so were Duke's teeth, but--
+
+Dyke turned cold at the thought of his position, and involuntarily began
+to sweep the plain for signs of danger, knowing, as he did full well,
+that beasts of prey always hang about the herds of wild creatures in
+their migrations from feeding ground to feeding ground; the lions to
+treat the strong as their larder when on their way to water; the hyaenas
+and jackals to pick up the infirm and tender young.  Then the boy's eyes
+were directed to the distant figure of his brother, and his first
+thought was to shout to him and ask for ammunition.
+
+But no cry, however piercing, could have reached Emson then, as Dyke
+well knew, and acting upon sudden impulse, he ran to his horse to
+tighten the girths of his saddle to gallop off after him.
+
+"And if I do," he said to himself, "the minute I am gone, the sneaking
+jackals and vultures will appear as if by magic, and begin spoiling the
+beautiful meat; Joe will laugh at me first for being a coward, and then
+turn angry because I have left the eland for the animals to maul."
+
+Dyke stood with his forehead puckered up, terribly perplexed.  He did
+not mind the anger, but the thought of Emson thinking that he was too
+cowardly to stop alone out there in the plain and keep watch for a few
+hours was too much for him, and he rapidly loosened the girths again.
+
+Then came the thought of a family of lions, which had perhaps been
+unsuccessful, scenting out the eland, and coming up to find him in that
+unprotected state.
+
+It was horrible, and, with a shiver, he tightened up the girths, sprang
+upon the cob, pressed its sides, and went off after Emson at a gallop,
+followed by Duke, who barked joyously, as if applauding his master's
+decision.
+
+Dyke felt lighter hearted and as if every stride took him out of danger,
+and he gave a glance round, saw dots here and there in the sky which he
+knew were vultures hurrying up to the banquet, and drawing his left
+rein, he made Breezy swing round, and rode in a semicircle back to the
+eland with teeth set, a frown on his brow, and determination strong: for
+he had mastered the feeling of panic that had assailed him, and though
+he did not grasp the fact himself, he had made a grand stride in those
+few minutes toward manhood.
+
+"Let 'em come," he said bitterly; "I won't run away like that.  Why, I
+could only have done this if a lion as big as that one we shot were
+already here."
+
+In another five minutes, with the dots in different parts around growing
+plainer, Dyke was back by the eland, and hobbling his horse's forefeet,
+he loosened the girths again with almost angry energy; then unstrapping
+the bit, left the cob to crop such green shoots as it could find.
+
+As the boy performed these acts, he could not help stealing a glance
+here and there; and then standing on the eland, so as to raise himself a
+little, he shaded his eyes and carefully swept the plain.
+
+He could see distant patches, which he made out to be herds, gradually
+growing fainter, and several more dots in the sky, but no sign of danger
+in the shape of lions; but he derived very little comfort from that, for
+he knew well enough that the tawny-hided creatures would approach in
+their crawling, cat-like fashion, and a dozen might be even then hidden
+behind the bushes, or flattened down in the sand, or dry, shrubby
+growth, with which their coats so assimilated as to make them invisible
+to the most practised eye.
+
+Dyke's teeth were pressed so hard together that they emitted a peculiar
+grinding sound with the exertion as he leaped down, and the dog looked
+up in a puzzled way, and uttered an uneasy bark.
+
+Dyke started.  The dog must scent danger, he thought, and the next
+glance was at Breezy, whose instinct would endorse the dog's knowledge;
+but the cob was blowing the insects off the tender shoots at every
+breath, and browsing contentedly enough.
+
+It was fancy.  The great, foul birds were coming nearer, but Dyke knew
+that he could keep a thousand of them away by flourishing his empty gun.
+
+Then a sudden thought occurred to him, and he turned excitedly to the
+dog, taking off his canvas pouch the while, and shaking it.
+
+"Hi, Duke!  Hey there, good old boy!  Lost--lost!  Seek them!  Good dog,
+then!  Seek--seek!  Lost!"
+
+The dog barked excitedly, sniffed at the pouch, looked up at his master,
+whined and barked, sniffed again at the pouch, and finally, in answer to
+Dyke's shouts and gestures, took another sharp sniff at the canvas, and
+bounded away, head down, and following the track made by the eland, the
+horses, and his own feet.
+
+"What an idiot I was not to think of that before!" said the boy to
+himself.  "He'll find it, as sure as sure."
+
+Then he gave another glance round, to stand repentant as he followed the
+figure of the retiring dog, and felt ready to call it back, for he was
+increasing the terrible loneliness by sending away his dumb friend, one
+who would have instantly given him warning of the approach of danger.
+
+Once more Dyke went through a mental battle.  He was mastering the
+strong desire to call back the dog, and forcing himself to take out his
+knife and use it as a bill-hook to cut a quantity of the dry, short
+bush, piling it up until he had enough to make a fire.  This he started,
+and felt better, for the flame and smoke would keep off animals, show
+where he was, and cook his dinner, about which he had begun to think
+eagerly, as well as of his position.
+
+"I wonder whether other fellows of my age are so ready to take fright at
+everything.  It's so stupid, just because the place is open and lonely.
+Fancy wanting to keep Duke back when he is pretty well sure to find my
+cartridge pouch, and bring it here.  It's a good job no one knows what
+we feel sometimes.  If any one did, how stupid we should look."
+
+The fire burned briskly, with the white smoke rising steadily up in the
+still air, as, after trying whether the edge of his sheath-knife had
+been blunted by cutting the bush wood, he attacked the great antelope to
+secure a good steak to broil.
+
+"Plenty to cut at," he said with a laugh; and his mouth watered now at
+the thought of the juicy frizzle he could make on the glowing embers,
+which would soon be ready for his purpose.  But he went to work
+judiciously.  His experience in the lonely, wild country had taught him
+a little of the hunter's craft, and he knew the value of the magnificent
+skin which covered the eland; so making certain cuts, he drew back the
+hide till a sufficiency of the haunch was bared, and after cutting a
+pair of skewer-like pieces from a bush, he carved a good juicy steak,
+inserted his skewers, spread out the meat, and stuck the sharper ends of
+the pieces of wood in the sand, so that the steak was close to, and well
+exposed to the glow.  Then leaving it to roast, Dyke carefully drew the
+skin back into its place and set to work washing his hands.
+
+Only a dry wash in the soft reddish sand, but wonderfully cleansing when
+repeated two or three times, and very delightful as a make-shift, where
+there is no water.
+
+By the time Dyke's hands were presentable, and he had piled-up some more
+bush where the fire had burned into a hole, the meat began to sputter,
+and drops of fat to drip in the hot embers, producing odours so
+attractive to a hungry lad, to whom fresh meat was a luxury, that Dyke's
+thoughts were completely diverted from the loneliness of his position,
+and he thought of nothing but the coming dinner as he took from his
+pocket a lump of heavy mealie cake which had been brought by way of
+lunch.
+
+"Wish I'd brought a bit of salt," he said to himself and a few minutes
+later, as he saw the full pound and a half steak beginning to curl up
+and shrink on one side, another thought struck him.  Wasn't it a pity
+that he had not cut a bigger slice, for this one shrank seriously in the
+cooking?
+
+But concluding that it would do for the present, he carefully withdrew
+the sticks from the sand, and turning them about, replaced them so as to
+cook the other side, congratulating himself the while upon the fact that
+the meat tightly embraced the pieces of wood, and there was no fear of
+the broil falling into the sand.
+
+"Don't want that kind of salt peppered over it," he said in a mixed
+metaphorical way, and after a look at Breezy, who was browsing away
+contentedly, Dyke smiled happily enough.  Then inhaling the delicious
+odours of the steak, he knelt there, with the fire glancing upon his
+face and the sun upon his back, picking up and dropping into places
+where they were needed to keep up the heat, half-burnt pieces of the
+short, crisp wood.
+
+It was so pleasant and suggestive an occupation that Dyke forgot all
+about danger from wild beasts, or trampling from a startled herd coming
+back his way.  For one moment he thought of Duke, and how long he would
+be before he came back with the cartridge pouch.  He thought of Emson,
+too, in regard to the steak, wishing he was there to share it, and
+determining to have the fire glowing and another cut ready to cook.
+
+Then, springing up, he ran to where Breezy raised his head with a
+pleasant whinny of welcome, took the water-bottle he always carried from
+where it was strapped to the back of the saddle, and returned to the
+cooking.
+
+"Done to a turn," he cried, as he caught up the two pieces of wood which
+held the steak, bore his dinner away a few yards from the fire, sat down
+holding the skewers ready, and then placing his cake bread in his lap,
+he began to cut off pieces of the meat.
+
+"De--licious!" he sighed, "but a trifle hot," and then everything was
+resolved into the question of meat--rich, tender, juicy meat--glorious
+to one whose fare had been dry, leathery, rather tainted biltong for a
+long while past.
+
+Dyke ate as he had never eaten before, till the last fragment was
+reached--a peculiarly crisp, brown, tempting-looking piece adhering to
+one of the skewers.  This he held back for a few moments in company with
+the last piece of mealie cake, wishing the while that he had cooked
+more, and brought a larger piece of the cake.
+
+"Roast beef's nothing to it," he said softly.  "Wish old Joe had been
+here to have a bit while it's so tender, and poor old Duke, too.  Never
+mind, he shall have double allowance when he does come--triple if he
+brings my pouch.  I wonder whether he has found it.  It's wonderful what
+he can do in that way."
+
+He raised his eyes to gaze in the direction taken by the dog as he sat
+there near the fire, and the huge carcass of the eland behind him, and
+then he seemed to have been suddenly turned into stone--sitting with the
+bit of cake in one hand, the skewer in the other, staring, with white
+rings round his eyes, straight at a full-grown, handsomely maned lion,
+standing about twenty yards away, gazing at him straight in the face.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TEN.
+
+THE HUNTER HUNTED.
+
+Dyke was completely paralysed in body, but his mind was wonderfully
+active, and he noted that the horse even had not divined the approach of
+the great beast, but was puffing away with snorting breath at the
+insects upon the tender shoots, and browsing contentedly enough, while
+the lion had stolen softly up nearer and nearer, without a sound, after
+perhaps following on the track of the antelopes for weeks, and taking
+toll from time to time, which might have accounted for its sleek
+condition and glistening hide.
+
+In spite of the feeling of horror which chilled the boy, he could not
+help admiring the beauty of the magnificent beast before him, with its
+full flowing mane, and sunny, yellowish eyeballs intently watching him,
+as the long lithe tail, with its black tuft of long hairs at the tip,
+swung to and fro, now seen upon the left side, now upon the right, in
+other respects the great animal being as motionless as the boy.
+
+For many moments Dyke could not even breathe, but at last he uttered a
+gasp, followed by a sharp, catching sound, as he inspired with a sob,
+and the lion raised the hair about his ears, as if to frown, and uttered
+a low, deep, growling noise.
+
+Dyke's heart seemed to stand still as, with his eyes still fixed upon
+those of the beast, he waited for it to spring upon him, and drive him
+back.  What then?
+
+He shuddered softly, trying hard not to move, and irritate the lion into
+hastening its aggression at a time when life was so sweet, and every
+moment was greedily grasped before the end.  He was horribly frightened,
+but this did not trouble him so much, for he felt stunned, and a great
+deal of what passed was dreamy, and seen as if through a mist.  But one
+thing he knew, and that was that he would have some little warning of
+the attack, for the lion would crouch and gather its hind-legs well
+under it before it made its spring.
+
+Then a wave of energy ran through Dyke, who, though still motionless,
+felt his heart throb with greater vigour as he began to think of
+self-defence.  There was his gun close at hand, so near that he could
+have reached it; but it was useless.  He might make one bold stroke with
+it; but the stock would only snap.  Any blow he could deliver would only
+irritate the beast.  And now a dawning feeling of admiration began to
+broaden as he gazed at the great, massive head and the huge paws,
+recalling the while what he had seen since he had been in South Africa--
+a horse's back broken by one blow, the heads of oxen dragged down and
+the necks broken by another jerk; and he felt that he would be perfectly
+helpless when the brute made its first spring.
+
+And still the lion stood, with the tail swinging in that pendulum-like
+motion; the great eyes gazing heavily at him; while during those painful
+minutes Dyke's brain grew more and more active.  He thought of mice in
+the power of cats, and felt something of the inert helplessness of the
+lesser animal, crouching, as if fascinated by the cruel, claw-armed
+tyrant, waiting to make its spring.  And he knew that at any moment this
+beast might come at him as if discharged from a catapult.  But all the
+same the brain grew more and more acute in its endeavours to find him a
+way of escape.  If he had only had a short bayonet fixed at the end of
+his gun, that he might hold it ready with the butt upon the ground, and
+the point at an angle of forty-five degrees, so that the lion might at
+its first bound alight upon it, and impale itself, just as it had been
+known to do upon the long, sharp, slightly curved prongs of the black
+antelope, piercing itself through and through, and meeting the fate
+intended for its prey.
+
+But then he had no bayonet at the end of his gun, and no weapon
+whatever, but his strong sheath-knife.  He could hold that out before
+him; but he knew well enough that he could not hold it rigid enough to
+turn it to advantage against his foe.
+
+It might have been so many seconds only, but it appeared to Dyke a long
+space of time numbered by minutes, as he waited there, expecting the
+great animal to crouch and spring, making short work of him before going
+on to gorge itself upon the carcass of the eland.  There was no
+possibility of help coming, for it must be hours before Emson could
+return, and then it would be too late.
+
+At last the power to move came back, and Dyke's first thought was to
+turn and run, but second thoughts suggested that it would be inviting
+the great active beast to spring upon his back, and he remained firm,
+never for a moment taking his eyes off those which stared so fixedly
+into his, although he was longing to look wildly round for the help that
+could not be at hand.
+
+Then his heart gave one great leap, for he saw a quiver run through the
+lion, which crouched down, gathering its hind-legs beneath it, and
+outstretching its fore; but it was some moments before the boy grasped
+the fact that the brute's movement was not for the purpose of making a
+tremendous bound, but only to couch, as if it would be easier and more
+comfortable to gaze at him in a seated position after making a very long
+stalk.
+
+"He can't be hungry!" came to Dyke's brain on the instant, and then boy
+and lion sat opposite to each other, gazing hard, till the great cat's
+head and mane seemed to swell and swell to gigantic proportions before
+the boy's swimming eyes, and they appeared misty, strange, and distant.
+
+Then came another change, for the animal suddenly threw itself over,
+stretched, and turned upon its back, patted at the air with its paw, and
+gazed at the boy in an upside-down position, its lower jaw uppermost,
+but keeping a watchful eye upon him, as if expecting an attack.  A
+moment or two later it was drawing itself over the sand to where Dyke
+sat, and made a quick dab at him with one paw, striking up the sand in a
+shower; and as the boy started away, the brute sprang to its feet, shook
+itself, and with two or three bounds plumped itself down upon the eland,
+and buried its teeth in the dead antelope's throat.
+
+Dyke uttered a hoarse sigh of relief, and rested himself by pressing his
+hands down beside him, breathing heavily the while.
+
+It was a temporary reprieve, but he dared not move for fear of drawing
+the attention of the lion to him, and clung to the hope that perhaps the
+great creature might be content to glut itself upon the game.
+
+The beast was well-fed and not savage, that was plain enough, but its
+action might change at any moment, and, worse still, there was the
+prospect of others arriving at any moment to join in the feast.
+
+For a full hour Dyke sat there, watching the great animal, and listening
+to it as it tore off pieces of the neck from time to time, the crack of
+a bone every now and then making him start violently, and shudder at the
+thought of certain possibilities connected with himself.  And all this
+time the beast was in such a position that one eye was toward him, and a
+gleam therefrom made it apparent that he was carefully watched the whole
+time.  But at last the lion turned itself more away to get at a more
+meaty portion, and a thrill of excitement ran through Dyke.
+
+Grasping his knife firmly in one hand, his gun in the other, he turned
+over, and fixing upon one of the low bushes a short distance away,
+beyond which was other good cover, he began slowly and silently to crawl
+sidewise away, keeping a watchful eye the while upon the lion, so as to
+stop short at the slightest movement on the part of the great beast.
+
+It was an exceedingly difficult mode of progression, and it was hard
+work to keep to it, for with every yard the desire to get up and run
+toward where Breezy would be grazing increased.  Once he could reach the
+cob, take off the hobbles which confined its forefeet, tighten the
+girths, and slip the bit between its teeth, he did not care.  But there
+was a great deal to do, he knew, before he could achieve this.
+
+Yard by yard he crept on, the sand hushing every sound, and he had
+nearly reached the low bush cropped short all over the top by the horse
+or some passing animal, when there was a quick movement and a low growl
+which made him feel that all was over.
+
+But a sharp _crick, crack_ of a broken bone nipped in the powerful jaws
+reassured him, and after waiting a few minutes, he crept sidewise again
+a little farther, and he was behind the bush, which shut out all view of
+the lion and smouldering fire, and of course hid him from his enemy.
+
+He could now make better progress, for if the lion turned, he would be
+invisible; and taking advantage of this, he crept on from bush to bush,
+till he was quite a hundred yards away.  And now the longing was intense
+to stand erect and look out for Breezy, but the bushy growth had been so
+closely cropped that it was nowhere a yard in height, and to stand up
+might have meant to bring him full in his enemy's sight.
+
+There was nothing to be done, then, but to crawl on to a more open spot,
+and as he was going in the direction taken by the horse in feeding the
+last time he saw it, the boy felt not the slightest uneasiness, being
+sure that he should come in sight of it directly.
+
+Still the minutes glided on as he made for the more open part where the
+sand lay bare, and he began now to grow uneasy at not seeing the cob,
+and at last, like a crushing disaster, he saw that the poor animal must
+have scented the lion, or been alarmed at the cracking of the bones,
+and, in consequence, it had quietly shuffled as far away as it could in
+the time.  There it was, a couple of miles away, right in the open
+plain, and though at that distance its movement could not be made out,
+it was in all probability shuffling its way along to save its life.
+
+Dyke's heart sank in his breast as he knelt there in the sand, feeling
+as if his case was as hopeless as ever, and for the moment he felt
+disposed to creep right into the densest place he could find, and lie
+there till darkness set in, when he would take his bearings as well as
+he could from the stars, and then try to reach Kopfontein.  But at that
+moment there came to him his brother's words, and the little absurd
+story about trying till to-morrow morning.  A trifling thing; but at
+that moment enough to make Dyke sling his gun over his back, thrust the
+knife into its sheaf, mark down the position of the fire by the faint
+smoke, and then start off crawling on all-fours straight away, not after
+the horse, but so as to keep the bushes well between him and the lion.
+
+The exertion was great and the heat terrible.  Never had the sand seemed
+so hot before, nor the air so stifling to breathe; but he crept on
+silently and pretty quickly, till, glancing back over his shoulder, he
+found that he might move straight at once to where he could see Breezy
+looking distant and misty through the lowest stratum of the quivering
+air.  For the low bushes hid him no longer; there was the faint smoke of
+the fire still rising, and just beyond it the big carcass of the eland,
+made monstrous by the great maned lion, crouching, tearing at the neck.
+
+At the sight of this, Dyke dropped down flat, and lay panting and
+motionless for a few minutes.  Then he began to crawl straight for the
+horse, grovelling along upon his breast.  But this soon proved to be far
+too painful and laborious a mode of progression, and he rose to his
+hands and knees, feeling that it must be that way or nohow, though fast
+growing desperate enough to rise to his feet and run.
+
+A minute's anxious reflection brought the feeling that this would be a
+mad act, and might rouse the lion into following him, so he kept
+steadily getting farther and farther away, and more and more
+foreshortened, as the artists term it, till he was pretty well end on to
+the lion, and he felt that he must present a singular aspect to the
+monster if it looked across the plain.
+
+"I shall never do it," muttered Dyke.  "Poor old Breezy! he was
+frightened.  I can't blame him, but I don't get any nearer.  He's going
+on as fast as I am, and I shall be obliged to get up and run."
+
+But he did not.  He kept up the uneasy crawling, putting hundred-yard
+space after hundred-yard space between him and the fire, while, when he
+did glance back, it was after dropping flat behind some bush and raising
+his head till he could see the eland lying like a low hummock or patch
+of bush, and with the lion growing less distinct.
+
+On he went again, refreshed by the trifling rest, but far more by the
+fact that he was really getting more distant from the great danger.  For
+it was in vain to try to assure himself that as the lion did not molest
+him before it had fed, it was far less likely to do so now.
+
+As he crawled onward, wishing he could progress like the baboons which
+haunted some of the stony kopjes in the neighbourhood, he tried to think
+how long it would be before he overtook the cob, and in spite of the
+danger and excitement he could not help smiling, for his position
+reminded him of one of the old problems at school about if A goes so
+many yards an hour and B so many, for twenty-four hours, how long will
+it be before B is overtaken by A?
+
+"A fellow can't do that without pen, ink, and paper," he said to
+himself.  "It's too big a sum to do on sand, and, besides, I don't know
+how fast I am going, nor B for Breezy either.  But oh, how hot I am!"
+
+At last he could bear it no longer; he was apparently getting no nearer
+the cob, but he certainly must be, he felt, sufficiently far from the
+lion to make it safe for him to rise and trot after the nag.  He had his
+whistle, and if he could make Breezy hear, the horse would come to him.
+But he dared not use that yet; besides, he was too far away.
+
+At last he did rise, gazed timorously back, and then started onward at a
+steady trot--a means of progression which seemed quite restful after the
+painful crawl, and gaining spirit by the change, he went on with so good
+effect that he saw that he was certainly gaining on the cob.  This
+infused fresh spirit within him, and congratulating himself on the fact
+that he must soon get within whistling distance, he had another glance
+back to see that eland and lion were an indistinct mass, or so it seemed
+for the moment.  Then he turned cold again in spite of the heat, for
+there, moving slowly over the sand, about a quarter of a mile back, was
+a tawny, indistinct something which gradually grew clearer to his
+startled eyes, for unmistakably there was a lion stealthily stalking
+him, taking advantage of every tuft to approach unseen, and before many
+minutes had passed he felt that it would be within springing distance,
+and all would be over in spite of his almost superhuman toil.
+
+There was only one chance for him now, he felt, and that was to run his
+best.
+
+He did not pause to look, but began to run over the burning sand, his
+breath coming hot and thick; but he must go on, he knew, for at every
+affrighted glance behind, there was his enemy keeping up its stealthy
+approach, and the cob was still so far away.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ELEVEN.
+
+BEING STALKED.
+
+Those were minutes which would have made the stoutest-hearted man feel
+that his case was hopeless; and Dyke struggled along, feeling his legs
+grow weaker, and as if his feet were turned to heavy weights of lead.
+Still he kept on at what was no longer a good run, for his pace had
+degenerated into a weary trot, and there were moments when he fancied
+that the cob was disappearing in a mist of distance, while at the same
+time he felt a constant inclination to check his speed, so as to be able
+to gaze back at his pursuer, which every now and then sent his heart
+upward with a tremendous throb, as it made a few rapid bounds to gain
+the shelter of bushes, and disappeared, but, as the boy well knew, to
+come into sight again much nearer.
+
+The later part of that terrible flight was dreamlike in its strange,
+wild confusion, and was dominated by a despairing feeling that he had
+now done all that was possible, and must throw himself down and yield to
+his fate.
+
+But the instinctive desire for life, the horror of being seized by the
+monstrous beast, and the thought of Emson and their home, which, shabby
+and rough as it was, now seemed to be a glorious haven of refuge, kept
+him struggling on in spite of his exhaustion.  Life was so sweet; there
+was so much to do; and poor Joe would be so lonely and broken-hearted
+when he found out his brother's fate.  It would be, he knew, the last
+terrible blow of all to the expedition.  For himself, he was so stunned
+by horror and exertion that he could not feel that there would be much
+pain; all he hoped for was that the seizure would be sudden and the end
+instantaneous; but still he kept up that slow, steady double over the
+burning sand, with his heavy gun going jerk, jerk, giving him, as it
+were, regular blows across the loins to urge him on.
+
+Another wild glance back, and the lion growing bigger; and another weary
+stare in advance, and the cob still so distant, but clearer now to his
+vision, though certainly shuffling away.
+
+Again he looked back, to see the savage beast grovelling itself along,
+with its lower parts almost touching the sand, and seeming more than
+ever to keep up that stealthy, cat-like approach, so as to get within
+springing distance.
+
+And now a reaction began to take place, and through his teeth Dyke's hot
+breath panted out:
+
+"I don't care; I'll die game.  He shan't kill me for nothing."
+
+His hand went to his belt, and he snatched out his keen sheath-knife,
+determined to hold it with both fists before him, and face the lion when
+the beast sprang.  It would not save his life, he felt; but the brute
+would suffer, and that was some consolation, even then.  Then his left
+hand went to his throat, to tear open his collar, so that he could
+breathe more freely; but it did not reach the button, for it struck
+against the big metal whistle which hung from his neck by a twisted
+leather thong.
+
+His next act was almost involuntary.  He placed the metal to his lips,
+and blew with all his might a long, trilling whistle, despairing as he
+blew, but still with a faint hope that the shrill sound would reach
+through the clear air to where the cob was labouring along with its
+hobbled feet.
+
+The result sent a thrill through the boy, for to his great joy he saw
+that the cob had stopped.
+
+No: it was fancy.
+
+No: it was no imagination, no fancy of his disordered brain; for the
+moment before, the horse was end on to him; now, it had turned
+broadside, and was gazing back; and in his excitement Dyke whistled
+again with all the breath he could put into the act.
+
+The horse still stared back.  It had heard the familiar call, and Dyke
+felt another thrill of hope, for on looking back he saw that the whistle
+had had a double effect: the lion had stopped short, sprung erect, and
+stood at gaze with bristling mane, staring after him, its head looking
+double its former size.
+
+But Dyke did not pause; he ran on, dragging his leaden feet, till he saw
+that the cob was once more moving away, and the lion crawling rapidly
+along in his track.
+
+Another shrill, trilling whistle with the former effect, and the animals
+in front and rear stopped again, giving the boy a few yards' gain.
+
+But the reprieve was very short.  The lion soon recovered from its
+surprise at the unwonted sound, one which might mean danger, and resumed
+its stalk, while the cob again went on.
+
+How long that terrible time lasted Dyke could not tell, but the
+whistling was resumed over and over again, always with the same effect,
+and with the hope growing that perhaps at last he might reach the horse,
+Dyke toiled on.
+
+Despair came, though, in company with the hope; for at any moment the
+boy felt that the cob might wildly rush off as soon as it realised how
+near the lion was behind its master--fear getting the better of the long
+training which had taught it to obey its master's call.  But still Dyke
+was getting nearer and nearer, and the whistle did not seem to lose its
+effect, always checking horse and lion as well, till to Dyke's great joy
+the cob uttered a loud whinnying sound, answered by a deep muttering
+growl from the lion.
+
+"I can go no farther," panted Dyke at last, and his run degenerated into
+a weary stumble, as he raised the whistle once more to his lips, blew
+with all his feeble might, and then began to walk.
+
+Hope once more, for the whinnying sounded loudly now; and in spite of
+the presence of the lion a couple of hundred yards behind its master,
+Breezy suddenly came toward where Dyke stood, advancing in a stumbling
+canter.  Dyke tried to call to it, but no words would come; and he
+glanced back to see the lion gliding over the ground nearer and nearer.
+
+How long would it be before it was near enough to make its bound?
+
+Long before he could get down by the cob's forelegs to loosen the
+hobbles from its fetlocks, and mount.
+
+Dyke felt that as he staggered to meet the cob, and the beautiful little
+animal stumbled toward him, whinnying joyfully, seeing for the time
+nothing but its master, to whom it looked for protection.
+
+"I shall never do it!  I shall never do it!" he panted, and he glanced
+back to see the lion stealing on, with its eyes glaring in the sunshine.
+And there was no friendly, playful look here, for now Dyke noticed that
+this was not the lion which he had encountered by the eland, but
+another, evidently one which had been following the droves of antelopes,
+and, fierce with hunger, had turned aside after the first object that it
+had seen.
+
+At that moment Dyke dropped upon his knees, throwing one arm round the
+fettered legs of his favourite, which had ceased its whinnying, and
+began to tremble violently, snorting and starting, and, yielding to its
+panic at the sight of the approaching enemy, threatened to bound away.
+
+To get the hobbles undone was impossible, for Dyke's hands trembled from
+weakness and excitement; but spurred again by despair, he made a couple
+of bold cuts, severed the leather thongs, and sprang to his feet.
+
+But there was much yet to do: the bit to fasten, and how could he get it
+into the mouth of the horrified beast?--the girths to tighten, while the
+cob backed away.
+
+Neither was possible, and glancing once over his shoulder, Dyke snatched
+at the mane, but missed it, for the cob started violently, but stopped a
+couple of yards away, paralysed with horror at the approach of the
+great, stealthy beast.
+
+Another clutch at the mane, and the cob started again; but Dyke had
+seized it fast, and was dragged a few yards before Breezy stopped,
+trembling in terror; as making one last effort, the boy made a leap and
+scramble to mount, dragging the saddle half round, but getting his leg
+over, clinging now with both hands to the mane.
+
+Nothing could have been narrower.
+
+The lion had given up its stealthy, creeping approach, and risen at last
+to commence a series of bounds, ending with one tremendous leap, which
+launched it through the air, and would have landed it next upon Dyke and
+his brave little steed; but horror drove off the trembling, paralytic
+seizure, and Breezy made also his frantic bound forward, with the result
+that the lion almost grazed the horse's haunches as it passed, and
+alighted upon the sand.  The beast turned with a savage roar; but, urged
+by fear, and spurred by its master's hoarse cries, the cob was
+galloping, with its eyes turned wildly back, and every breath coming
+with a snort of dread.
+
+Certainly nothing could have been narrower, for, enraged by its failure,
+the lion was in full pursuit, keeping up bound after bound; but swiftly
+as it launched itself forward, its speed fell short of the pace at which
+the brave little cob swept over the sand, spurning it at every effort in
+a blinding shower right in the lion's face, while Dyke, lying prostrate,
+clinging with hand and knee, was in momentary expectation of being
+thrown off.
+
+The pursuit was not kept up for more than three hundred yards.  Then the
+lion stopped short, and sent forth a series of its thunderous,
+full-throated roars, every one making Breezy start and plunge
+frantically forward, with the sweat darkening its satin coat.
+
+But the danger was past, and for the next ten minutes Dyke strove hard
+to master a hysterical sensation of a desire to sob; and then gaining
+strength, and beginning to breathe with less effort, he drew himself up
+erect, and tried by voice and caress to slacken the frightened animal's
+headlong speed.
+
+"Wo-ho, lad! wo-ho, lad!" he cried, and the speed slackened into a
+canter.
+
+"My word!" muttered the boy to himself, "I don't know how I managed to
+stick on!"
+
+Ten minutes later he managed to stop the cob, and sliding off wearily,
+he stroked and patted its reeking neck, unbuckled and slipped in the
+bit, attached the reins to the loose side, and arranged them ready for
+mounting.  Then dragging the saddle back into its place, he properly
+tightened the girths, and gave two or three searching glances backward
+the while.
+
+But the lion, far or near, was well hidden, and they were well out in
+one of the barest parts of the plain, which now spread tenantless as far
+as eye could reach, while the eland was quite out of sight.
+
+And now, as he proceeded to mount, Dyke awoke to the fact that his back
+was bruised sore by the gun, which had beaten him heavily; he was
+drenched with perspiration; and it was an effort to lift his foot to the
+stirrup, his knees being terribly stiff.  He was conscious, too, of a
+strange feeling of weariness of both mind and body, and as he sank into
+the saddle he uttered a low sigh.
+
+But he recovered a bit directly, and turning the cob's head, began to
+ride slowly in the direction of Kopfontein, whose granite pile lay like
+an ant-hill far away, low down on the eastern horizon.
+
+He was too tired to think; but he noted in a dull, half-stunned way that
+the sun was getting very low, and it struck him that unless he hurried
+on, darkness would overtake him long before he could get home.
+
+But it did not seem to matter; and though it hurt him a little, there
+was something very pleasant in the easy, rocking motion of Breezy's
+cantering stride, while the wind swept, cool and soft, against his
+cheeks.
+
+Then he began to think about the events of the day--his narrow escape,
+which seemed to be dreamlike now, and to belong to the past; next he
+found himself wondering where the dog was, and whether it had found his
+cartridge pouch.  Lastly, he thought of Emson, and his ride back to
+fetch Jack and the oxen--a long task, for the bullocks were so slow and
+deliberate at every pace.
+
+But it did not seem to matter, for everything was very restful and
+pleasant, as the golden sun sent the shadow of himself and horse far
+away along the plain.  He was safe, for the lion could be laughed at by
+any one well mounted as he was then.  At last the pleasant sensation of
+safety was combined with a dull restfulness that grew and grew, till,
+moving gently in that canter over the soft sand, which hushed the cob's
+paces to a dull throb, the glow in the west became paler and paler, and
+then dark.
+
+Then bright again, for Dyke recovered himself with a jerk, and sat
+upright, staring.
+
+"I do believe I was dropping off to sleep," he muttered.  "That won't
+do.  I shall be off.--Go on, Breezy, old boy.  You had a good long rest,
+and didn't have to crawl on your knees.  How far is it now?"
+
+Far enough, for the kopje was only just visible against the sky.
+
+But again it did not seem to matter, for all grew dull again.  Dyke had
+kept on nodding forward, and was jerked up again, but only for him to
+begin nodding again.  Soon after he made a lurch to the left, and Breezy
+ceased cantering, and gave himself a hitch.  Then followed a lurch to
+the right, and the cob gave himself another hitch to keep his master
+upon his back, progressing afterwards at a steady walk, balancing his
+load: for Dyke was fast asleep, with the reins slack and his chin down
+upon his chest, and kept in his place by the natural clinging of his
+knees, and the easy movement of the sagacious beast he rode.  But all at
+once he lurched forward, and instinctively clung to the horse's neck,
+with the result that Breezy stopped short, and began to crop the shoots
+of the bushes, only moving a step or two from time to time.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWELVE.
+
+DYKE IS AGGRIEVED.
+
+"Fine chance for a lion," said Emson, as at dusk he left the oxen, being
+slowly driven by Kaffir Jack, and cantered off to his left to draw rein
+in front of Dyke, the boy sitting upright with a start.
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"I say a fine chance for a lion," cried Emson again.
+
+"No: couldn't catch,"--_snore_.
+
+"Here!  Hi!  Little one.  Wake up!" cried Emson.
+
+"Yes; all right!--What's the matter?"
+
+"Matter? why, you're asleep, you stupid fellow: a lion might have come
+upon you in that state."
+
+"Lion?  Come upon?  Did--did you speak to me?" said Dyke thickly.
+
+"Speak to you? of course.  Why, you foolish, careless fellow, what was
+the matter?  Afraid to stay by the game?"
+
+Dyke looked at him drowsily, striving to catch all that had been said,
+but only partially grasping the meaning.
+
+"Don't know--what you mean," he said thickly.
+
+"I mean it was very cowardly of you to forsake your charge, boy," said
+Emson sternly.  "It's vital for us to save that meat, and I trusted you
+to watch it.  Now you've come away, and it will be horribly mauled by
+the jackals; perhaps we shall find half a hundred vultures feeding upon
+it when we get there.  Hang it, Dyke! you might have stayed till I came
+back."
+
+Dyke was too much confused to make any reply.  Utterly exhausted as he
+had been, his deep sleep seemed to still hold him, and he sat gazing
+vacantly at his brother, who added in a tone full of contempt:
+
+"There, don't stare at me in that idiotic way.  Come along; let's try
+and save something.  Look sharp!  One of us must ride on, or we shall
+not find it before it's dark."
+
+Dyke rode beside him in silence, for Breezy eagerly joined his stable
+companion, and in a short time they were up to, and then passed Jack
+with his plodding oxen, which were drawing a rough sledge, something
+similar to that which a farmer at home uses for the conveyance of a
+plough from field to field.
+
+The angry look soon passed away from Emson's face, and he turned to
+Dyke.
+
+"There, look up, old chap," he said; "don't pull a phiz like that."
+
+Dyke was still half stupefied by sleep, but he had grasped his brother's
+former words, and these were uppermost, rankling still in his mind as he
+said heavily:
+
+"You talked about the jackals and vultures, Joe."
+
+"Yes, yes; but I was in a pet, little un--vexed at the idea of losing
+our stock of good fresh meat.  That's all over now, so say no more about
+it.  Began to think I was never coming, didn't you?  Well, I was long."
+Emson might just as well have held his tongue, for nothing he now said
+was grasped by Dyke, who could think of nothing else but the former
+words, and he repeated himself:
+
+"You talked about the jackals and vultures, Joe."
+
+"Yes, yes, I did; but never mind now, old chap."
+
+"But you didn't say a word about the lions."
+
+"What?" cried Emson excitedly.  "You have had no lions there, surely?"
+
+"Yes," said Dyke, bitterly now, for he was waking up, and felt deeply
+aggrieved.  "Two great beasts."
+
+"But in open day?"
+
+Dyke nodded.
+
+"Then why didn't you fire?  A shot or two would have scared them away."
+
+"Yes," continued the boy in the same bitter tone; "but you can't fire
+when your gun's empty, and you have no cartridges."
+
+"But you had plenty when we started.  I filled your pouch."
+
+"Yes, but it came undone in the ride after the eland.  It's lost.  I
+sent Duke to try and find it, and he didn't come back."
+
+"My poor old chap!" cried Emson, leaning forward to grasp his brother's
+shoulder.  "I did not know of this."
+
+"No, you couldn't know of it, but you were precious hard upon me."
+
+"My dear old chap, I spoke to you like a brute.  I ought not to have
+left you, but I was so delighted with the way in which you had brought
+down the game, and, as it were, filled our larder, that I thought you
+ought to have all the honour of keeping guard, while I played drudge and
+went to fetch the sledge to carry the meat home.  But tell me: the lions
+came?"
+
+"One did," said Dyke, "and gave me turn enough, and when I got away from
+him to try and catch Breezy here, another savage brute hunted me and
+nearly struck me down.  Oh, it was horrid!" he cried, as he ended his
+rough narrative of what he had gone through.
+
+"Dyke, old chap, I shall never forgive myself," said Emson, grasping his
+brother's hand.  "I'd do anything to recall my words."
+
+"Oh, it's all right," cried the boy, clinging to the hand that pressed
+his; "I'm better now.  I was so exhausted, Joe, that I suppose I
+couldn't keep awake.  I say, how was it I didn't fall off?"
+
+"The cob was standing quite still when I came up, and looked half asleep
+himself."
+
+"Poor old Breezy!  He had such a fright too.  I thought I should never
+catch up to him.  But I did."
+
+"Can you forgive me, old fellow?"
+
+"Can I what?  Oh, I say, Joe!  Don't say any more, please.  Here, give
+me some cartridges to put in my pocket.  I'm all right now, and there
+are sure to be some more lions there.  But, I say, I don't think I
+should like to shoot at that first one."
+
+Emson handed a dozen cartridges, and then shouted to Jack to stop, which
+the Kaffir and his two dumb companions willingly did.
+
+"What are you going to do, Joe?"
+
+"Discretion is the better part of valour," said Emson quietly.  "It
+would be dark by the time we got there, and on your own showing, the
+field is in possession of the enemy.  Why, Dyke, old fellow, it would be
+about as mad a thing as we could do to drive a couple of bullocks up to
+where perhaps half-a-dozen lions are feasting.  I ought to have known
+better, but it did not occur to me.  These brutes must have been
+following the herds.  There's only one thing to do."
+
+"What's that?  Go near and fire to scare them away?"
+
+"To come back again, after they had left us the mangled remains of the
+eland.  No good, Dyke: we shall be safer in our own beds.  It's only
+another failure, old chap.  Never mind: we may get game to-morrow."
+
+Dyke tried to oppose this plan of giving up, but it was only in a
+half-hearted way, and they rode back slowly towards Kopfontein, pausing
+from time to time for the oxen to catch up, Jack growing more and more
+uneasy as the night came on, and running after them and leaving the
+oxen, if they came to be any distance ahead.
+
+The result was that he was sent on first with the slow-paced bullocks,
+and Dyke and his brother formed themselves into a rearguard,
+necessitated from time to time to come to a full stop, so as to keep in
+the rear.
+
+It was nearly morning when they reached home, and after fastening their
+cattle safely behind fence and rail, they sought their own beds, where
+Dyke sank at once into a heavy sleep, waking up when the sun was quite
+high, with some of the previous evening's confusion left; but the whole
+of the day's adventure came back in a flash as his eyes lit upon Duke,
+fast asleep upon a skin, and with the lost cartridge pouch between his
+paws.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
+
+JACK BEHAVES HIMSELF.
+
+The necessity for providing fresh provisions took the brothers out again
+next day, but there were no more herds visible, as far as their glass
+would show, anywhere out upon the plain; but at last they caught sight
+of half-a-dozen of the graceful little springboks, and after a long
+gallop got close enough to try a couple of shots, which proved
+successful; and a little buck was borne home in triumph, a portion
+cooked, and Dyke sat watching his brother eat that evening, till Emson
+looked up.
+
+"Why, hullo!" he cried; "not well?"
+
+"Oh yes, I'm quite right," replied Dyke hastily.
+
+"Then why don't you eat?"
+
+"Because I wanted you to make up for the past," said the boy, laughing.
+"I'm a meal ahead of you.  I had such a splendid dinner yesterday off
+the eland."
+
+Next morning, upon their visit to the ostrich-pens, Emson's face
+brightened, for there was excitement among the birds, the great hen
+having hatched every egg of those they had brought home in the net; and
+for the next few days everything possible was done in the way of
+feeding, so as to help the young brood on into a state of strength.
+
+"Oh, it's all right, Joe," said Dyke; "all we've got to do is to keep on
+scouring the plain and finding nests.  We shall succeed after all."
+
+"Yes, but you must scout off after some meal and coffee; we can't get on
+without those."
+
+"And sugar."
+
+"And sugar.  What do you say to starting to-morrow?"
+
+"I'm ready," said Dyke; and after warning Jack, and making the necessary
+preparations over night, they sought their couches, and rose before
+daybreak to go and rouse up the Kaffir and his wife.
+
+The latter soon had her fire glowing; Jack grumpily fetched water, and
+then proceeded to yoke the bullocks to the wagon, after which he settled
+down to his breakfast; and after feeding his stock, Emson mounted his
+horse to ride a few miles with his brother, both keeping a sharp lookout
+for game; while Duke, who was of the party, kept on hunting through the
+hushes, and now and then starting a bird.
+
+It was getting toward mid-day before anything was shot, and then another
+little springbok fell to Emson's piece, just as they reached the water
+where they were to make their first halt.
+
+The buck was divided, part to go back to Kopfontein and some to form
+part of Dyke's provision, while another portion was cooked at once and
+eaten.
+
+"There," said Emson at last, "I don't think I need say any more to you,
+old fellow.  Jack knows the way well enough.  Set him to drive the
+bullocks, and you ride beside and drive him.  Keep a tight rein, and if
+he shows his teeth and isn't obedient, tell him you'll shoot him, and
+take aim at once, or he won't believe you."
+
+"Rather sharp practice, Joe, isn't it?"
+
+"Not with a man like that.  He'll be ready to play upon you in every
+way, and you must let him see that you do not mean to be imposed upon.
+Sounds harsh, but I know Master Jack by heart."
+
+"You do think he'll take me straight to all the water?"
+
+"I haven't a doubt about it, old fellow," said Emson, smiling.  "Jack
+isn't an ostrich, and must drink at least once a day, so you need not be
+nervous about that.--There," he continued, mounting; "I must be off.
+Good-bye."
+
+"Not yet; I'm going to ride a little way back with you," cried Dyke.
+
+"No, you are not, lad.  Rest yourself and your horse.--Here!  Hi!
+Jack!"
+
+The Kaffir came from under the wagon, grinning.
+
+"Drive your bullocks carefully, and bring them back in good condition."
+
+The man smiled and showed his teeth.
+
+"That's right.  Go along and have your sleep."
+
+The Kaffir went back and crept under the wagon, and Emson clasped his
+brother's hand.
+
+"Take your time, but don't lose any, old fellow," he said; "for I shall
+be glad to see you back.  Take care of yourself.  I wish I were going
+with you, but I can't.  There, you are man enough to manage everything,
+so good-bye."
+
+He urged his horse forward and went back swiftly along the trail, his
+nag cantering steadily along one of the broad ruts made by the wagon
+wheels in the sand, while Dyke went and seated himself just under the
+wagon-tilt, and watched him till he was out of view.
+
+"Six days and nights at the least," said Dyke to himself with a sigh,
+"and perhaps a fortnight, before I get back.  Never mind; every day will
+be one less, and I don't suppose I shall mind its being lonely, after
+all.  Duke's good company, and so is Breezy, without counting Jack, and
+it isn't so very bad after all to go riding through the country with
+one's own tent on wheels.  Why, some fellows at home would be mad with
+joy to get such a chance.  Ah, look at that.  Why, if I'd been ready, I
+might have got a couple of Guinea-fowl for the larder."
+
+For a flock of the curious speckled birds came and settled amongst the
+bushes on the other side of the water pool, but catching sight of
+visitors, went off with a tremendous outcry.
+
+"Don't matter," said Dyke; "there's plenty of the buck."
+
+The sun was sinking low in the west, as after a long, toilsome journey
+from the last water, Dyke, with the great whip held aloft like a large
+fishing-rod and line, sat on the wagon-box shouting to the weary oxen
+from time to time.  He was apparently quite alone, save that Breezy was
+tethered by a long leathern rein to the back of the wagon.  There was no
+Kaffir Jack, no Duke; and the boy, as he sat driving, looked weary, worn
+out, and disconsolate.
+
+For days past he had been upon a faintly-marked track leading
+south-west--a track in which hoof-marks and the traces of wagon wheels
+having passed that way were faintly to be seen, quite sufficient to show
+him that he was on the right track for civilisation in some form, and he
+felt pretty certain that sooner or later he would reach Oom
+Morgenstern's store and farm.
+
+But it had been a terrible task that managing of the team alone, and
+urging the sluggish animals to drag the wagon when they reached heavy
+patches of sand.  Then, too, there was the outspanning--the unyoking the
+often vicious animals from the dissel-boom or wagon pole and trek chain,
+when he halted by water, and let them drink and feed.  Then the
+inspanning, the yoking up of the oxen again, and the start once more.
+
+That huge whip, too, had been such a clumsy thing to handle, but highly
+necessary, for without it he would never have reached the end of his
+journey.  Then at night there had been the same outspanning to see to;
+the feeding of the bullocks; the collection of wood and lighting of as
+big a fire as he could contrive, to cook his food, boil his coffee, and,
+finally, make up to scare off wild beasts.  In addition to this, a thorn
+protection ought to have been made to keep off danger from Breezy, but
+that was impossible; and hour after hour Dyke had sat in the darkness,
+where the cob's rein was made fast to the wagon tail, and, gun in hand,
+had watched over the trembling beast, keeping him company when the
+distant roaring of lions was heard on the veldt, and the bullocks grew
+uneasy.
+
+Little sleep fell to Dyke's lot by night; but in the daytime, when the
+bullocks were going steadily along the track, which they followed
+willingly enough for the most part, the boy's head would sink down upon
+his breast, and he would snatch a few minutes' rest, often enough to
+start up and find the wagon at a standstill, and the bullocks cropping
+some patch of grass or the tender shoots of a clump of bushes.
+
+Then on again, with at times the great whip exchanged for the gun, and
+some bird or another laid low, so as to find him in extra provisions by
+the way.  Once, too, he managed to hit a little buck.
+
+A long, doleful, and weary journey, without meeting a soul, or being
+passed.  On and on, over the never-ending plain, often despairing, and
+with the oxen groaning, empty as the wagon was, for the sun flashed and
+was reflected up with blinding force, and there were moments when Dyke
+grew giddy, and felt as if he must break down.
+
+But those were only moments.  He set his teeth again, and trudged on or
+rode, thinking of Joe waiting patiently away there in the lonely,
+corrugated iron building, tending the ostriches, and feeling in perfect
+confidence that the journey would be achieved, and the necessary stores
+brought back.
+
+There were moments, though, when Dyke brightened up, and told himself
+that he would do it if he tried till to-morrow morning; and at such
+times he laughed--or rather tried to laugh--for it was rather a painful
+process, his face being sore and the skin ready to peel away.
+
+But at last, after escaping danger after danger by a hair's-breadth, the
+great weariness of the almost interminable journey was coming to an end,
+for, far away in the distance, there was a building visible through the
+clear air.  He could see a broad stretch of green, too, looking
+delightful with waving trees, after the arid wilderness through which he
+had passed; and now, in spite of his great fatigue, Dyke plucked up
+courage, for the building must be Oom Morgenstern's farm, and in an hour
+or so the traveller felt that the first part of his journey was at an
+end.
+
+Once or twice a feeling of doubt troubled him, but that soon passed off,
+for reason told him that he could not be wrong--this must be the point
+for which he had been aiming.
+
+The bullocks began to move more briskly now, for they could see green
+pasture in the far distance, and there was a moister feeling in the air,
+suggestive of water not far away.
+
+So Dyke's task grew lighter, and an hour or so later he could see a big,
+heavy, grey man standing outside an untidy-looking building, littered
+about with cask and case, and who saluted him as he halted his team:
+
+"Ach! das is goot.  How you vas, mein bube?"
+
+"Here, I say," cried Dyke, as the big German shook hands with him, "who
+are you calling a booby, Uncle Morgenstern?"
+
+"Hey?  You vas bube.  Not gall yourself mans, long time ago to gom.
+Bube ist poy, goot poy.  Zo you gom vrom Kopfontein all py youzelf to
+puy mealies and dea, and goffee and sugars?"
+
+"Well, not quite all alone; I've got our Kaffir with me."
+
+"Ach! ten: why you not make him drive die pullock?  Lazy tog!"
+
+"He's in the wagon, bad.  I've had to drive the bullocks, and inspan and
+outspan all by myself."
+
+"Ach! wonterful!  All py youself.  Goot poy.  Ant you are hot, und sehr
+dursty."
+
+"Oh yes, horribly thirsty."
+
+"Goot!  Die Frau shall make you zom of mein beaudiful goffees.  Das is
+good vor dursdy.--Hi!" he shouted; and a couple of Kaffir boys came from
+behind a rough shed, to whom he gave instructions to outspan the oxen
+and drive them to the abundant pasture by the river side.
+
+"Goot!  Now led me see der pad mensch.  Zo you haf put you Kaffir in you
+wagon, and give him a pig ride."
+
+"Yes; I thought he was going to die."
+
+"Zo?  Ah! zom beebles would haf left him oonter a dree, und zay do him:
+`Mein vrient, you had petter make youself guite well as zoon as you gan.
+I muss nicht shtop.  Goot-bye.'  But you did bring him in dem wagon,
+hey?"
+
+"Oh yes: I could not leave him."
+
+"You are a goot poy, my young vrient.  And how is der big bruder?"
+
+"Quite well," said Dyke, looking uneasy as the big, frank-faced, fat,
+German Boer questioned him.
+
+"Why did he not gom too?  I like den big bruder."
+
+"Too busy minding the young ostriches."
+
+"Ach zo!  Of goorse.  Ant you make blenty of money--you gut off der
+vedders, and zend dem to der Gape?"
+
+"Oh no.  We're doing very badly: the young birds die so fast."
+
+"Zo?  Das ist sehr, very bad.  You had petter zell mealie und gorn, und
+dea und sugars.  It ist mooch petters as neffer vas, and you not haf to
+gom five, zigs, zeven days to me.  Now let us zee den Kaffirs."
+
+The old man had approached the back of the wagon as he spoke, and now
+drew the canvas aside, to be greeted by a low growl which made him start
+back.
+
+"Tunder!" he cried.  "Der Kaffir tog is gone mad!"
+
+"No, no; that is our dog Duke."
+
+"Ah!  Und is he pad too?"
+
+"Yes: a leopard came and seized him one night and carried him off from
+under the wagon; but I ran out and fired, and I suppose I hit the beast,
+for there was a lot of snarling and Duke got away; but I thought he
+would have died."
+
+"Ach! boor togs den.  What you do to him?"
+
+"Bathed the places with water."
+
+"Goot!"
+
+"And he licked the wounds himself."
+
+"Besser."
+
+"And curled himself up, and went to sleep."
+
+"Das vas der best of all, mein young vrient.  Aha!  Goot tog, den.  You
+let me zee how you vas pad.  I am your master's vrient; das ist zo."
+
+He advanced his hand to where Duke lay just inside the canvas, and the
+dog gave the skin on which he lay two thumps with his tail.
+
+"Das ist goot," said the old German trader.  "Ach! yaas; you haf been
+pite on dem pack, und scratch, scratch along bofe your zides; boot you
+are a prave tog, and zoon be guite well again."
+
+Duke's tail performed quite a fantasia now, and he uttered a low whine
+and licked at the great, fat, friendly hand which patted his head.
+
+"Und now vere is der poy?"
+
+"Get into the wagon," said Dyke; and the German climbed in, followed by
+Dyke, and stooped down over the figure of Kaffir Jack, who lay on a
+blanket, with his head toward the front part of the wagon, through which
+opening the evening light still streamed.
+
+The Kaffir's head was tied-up with a bandage formed of the sleeve of a
+shirt cut off at the shoulder, split up lengthwise at the seams, tied
+together so as to make it long enough, and this was stained with blood,
+evidently days old.
+
+The Boer gazed down at the Kaffir, and Jack gazed up at him, screwing up
+his face in the most piteous fashion.
+
+This scrutiny on both sides went on for some time in a silence which was
+at last broken by the Kaffir uttering a dismal groan which went right to
+Dyke's heart.
+
+"Ah," said the trader softly, "boor vellow!  How you vas?"
+
+Jack uttered a more dismal groan than before.
+
+"Ah, vas it den?  Boor mans! you zeem as bad as neffer can be.  You
+doomble off dem vagon, und dread on your vace like dot?"
+
+"Oh!" groaned Jack.  "Baas killum."
+
+"Did he den.  Der baas kill der boor vellow dead?"  Then suddenly
+changing his tone from one full of soft sympathy to a burst of fierce
+anger, he roared out: "Dunder und lightning!  You get oot of dis, you
+oogly black, idle tog.  You got sore head, und lazy as big bullock.  Out
+you vas!"
+
+He accompanied the fierce words with a sharp kick, and Jack bounded up
+and sprang clear over the wagon-box, to stand out on the trampled
+ground, staring wildly.
+
+"Ah, you vait till I gom und get das 'noceros whip, und make you tance,
+you lazy tog.  You go take den pferd to water, or you haf no zopper
+to-night.  Roon!"
+
+Dyke stood staring at the change that had come over the Kaffir, who ran
+to where the horse was tied, unfastened the rein, and led him off
+without a word.
+
+The old trader chuckled.
+
+"I know whad is der madder mit dose poy.  He is guide well as neffer
+vas, und lie und shleep and say he gannod vork a leedle pid.  How game
+he do domble und gut den kopf?"
+
+Dyke coloured.
+
+"He did not tumble," said the boy.  "I hit him."
+
+"Zo?  Mit dem shdick?"
+
+"No," faltered Dyke; "with the barrel of my gun."
+
+"Ach! das ist not goot.  You mide break den gun.  Der whip handle is der
+bess.  Why you vas hit him on dem het?"
+
+"He would not see to the bullocks.  Almost directly after we had
+started--I mean the next day--he got at the meat and ate all there was."
+
+"Ach! yas.  He look as if he had den gros shdomach.  And zo he eat him
+all?"
+
+"Yes; everything."
+
+"Und what den?"
+
+"Then he went to sleep and wasted a whole day, and I had to do
+everything, and cut wood for the fire, and watch to keep off the wild
+beasts."
+
+"Ach! boor vellow! he vas shleepy, after eat himself so vull."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Und der next day?"
+
+"The next day he said it was too soon to start, and that I must go and
+shoot something for him to eat, while he kept up a good fire."
+
+"Zo?  He is a glever vellow," said the Boer, nodding his head, and with
+his eyes twinkling.  "Und did you go and shoot zom more meat vor den
+boor poy?"
+
+"No.  I told him he must get up, and help to get the wagon along."
+
+"Und he said he vould not move?"
+
+"Yes," said Dyke; "and at last I got angry, and kicked him to make him
+get up and work."
+
+"Ah zo; und what den?"
+
+"He jumped up, and threatened to spear me with his assegai."
+
+"Zo; und what den?"
+
+"I hit him over the head with the gun barrel, and he fell down, and has
+not been up since.  I was afraid I had killed him, for he lay with his
+eyes shut."
+
+"Und you goot oop your shirt to die oop his het, und you veed him, und
+drink him, und waid upon him effer since as neffer vas."
+
+"Yes; I've had to do everything," said Dyke sadly; "but I ought not to
+have hit him so hard."
+
+"Vot?  My goot younger vrient, you should, und hit him more hart as dot.
+A lazy, pad tog.  He is a cheating rascal.  A man is neffer bad when he
+look guide well as dot.  I know dot sort o' poy, und he shall pe ferry
+sorry when he go pack, or I keep him here.  Now you gom und wash, and
+meine alt voman shall give you blendy do eat und drink, und den you
+shall haf a creat big shlafen, und wake oop do-morrow morning as guide
+well as neffer vas.  Gom along.  Und zo die ozdridge birds go todt?"
+
+"Go how?" said Dyke wonderingly.
+
+"Todt, dead--vall ashleep, and neffer wake oop no more.  Ah, vell, I am
+zorry for den pig bruder.  He ist a ver goot mans.  He bay for all he
+puy at mein shdore, und dot is vot die oder beobles do not alvays do.--
+Frau," he continued, as they entered the homely and rather untidy but
+scrupulously clean house, "dis ist mein younger vrient: you dake him und
+wash him, und make him a pig evening's eating, vor he has gom a long way
+do zee us, und he will shday as long as he like."
+
+Frau Morgenstern, a big, fat woman, greeted him warmly, and confined her
+washing to giving him a tin bucket, a lump of coarse yellow soap, and a
+piece of canvas perfectly clean, but coarse enough to make a sack.
+
+That bucket of water was delicious, and so was the hearty meal which
+followed, and after being assured by the hearty old German that the
+cattle were properly tended, and seeing to Breezy himself--an act which
+brought the old trader's fat hand down upon his back with "Goot poy:
+alvays dake gare of your goot horse youzelf,"--the house was re-entered,
+the door shut, and the host stood up, closed his eyes, and said a prayer
+in his native tongue, ending by blessing Dyke in true patriarchal
+fashion.
+
+That night Dyke slept as he had not slept for weeks, and woke up the
+next morning wondering that he could feel so fresh and well, and
+expecting to see Kaffir Jack at the other end of the wagon, curled up in
+a blanket; but though the dog was in his old quarters, Jack was absent,
+and Dyke supposed that he was asleep beneath.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
+
+A RESTING-PLACE.
+
+"You are petter as offer you vas, heh?" cried the old trader, thrusting
+his face in between the canvas curtains of the wagon end.  "Yes, quite
+well.  Good-morning."
+
+"Ach zo.  It is a goot mornings.  Ant how is der tog?  You vill say how
+to you are to dem alt Oom Morgenstern.  He is goot tog ten, and getting
+himself mended ferry quickly.  How vas it he shall pe scratch and pite
+all ofer hims, heh?"
+
+The old man patted and stroked the dog with his big fat hand, as he
+spoke in a soft soothing tone, which had the effect of making him the
+best of friends with Duke, who whined and licked at the hand, and kept
+up a regular throbbing pat-pat-pat upon the floor of the wagon.
+
+"Ach yes, ten, he is a ferry goot togs, and he shall pe effer zo much
+petter zoon.  Ant zo der pig spotty gat gom und dake him, heh?"
+
+"Yes, poor fellow, one of the great brutes pounced upon him suddenly,
+and fetched him from right under the wagon," said Dyke.  "You were bad,
+weren't you, Duke, old chap?"
+
+The dog threw up his head and uttered a loud howl, and then began to
+lick the cuts torn by the leopard's sharp claws.
+
+"Ach! he vas pad, den," said the old man.  "But das ist goot vizzick for
+goots und pites.  Der tog's tongue ist as goot as his tooses ist pad.
+Ant zo you zhoot hims, heh?"
+
+"What!--the leopard?" said Dyke.  "Yes, I shot and hit him, I suppose;
+but I was afraid of hitting the dog.  I fired, though, as a last
+chance."
+
+"It was guide right," said the old man, nodding his head.  "You do not
+shoode--you do noding, and der leopards garry away den hund.  You do
+shoode, und if you shoode him, it is petter than for hims to be eaten
+oop alife, und you may shoode den leopard.  Zo!  I am happy das you hafe
+zave den tog.  He is a goot tog, und a goot tog ist a goot vrient out in
+der veldt.  Now you gom mit me, und die alte voman give us bode zom
+fruhstuck.  You know what ist das?"
+
+Dyke shook his head.
+
+"Das ist goot Deutsch for breakfass, mein young vrient."
+
+"Oh, I see," cried Dyke.  "I never learnt Dutch."
+
+"Nein, nein, nein, goot bube.  Not Dutch.  I did say Deutsch--Sharmans."
+
+"But you are a Boer, are you not?"
+
+"Nein.  I did gom ofer from Sharmany dwenty year ago.  Dere ist blendy
+of Dutch Boer varder on.  I am Deutsch."
+
+"I'll recollect," said Dyke eagerly.--"But how is Jack the Kaffir?  Is
+he lying down under the wagon?"
+
+"Nein," cried the old man sharply.  "As zoon as he zee me gom, shoost
+when it ist morgen, und he zee mein big shdick, he shoomp oop und go und
+veed den pferd horse, as he know he should.  He's guide well, dank you,
+now, and work ferry hart, like a goot poy."
+
+The old man wrinkled up his face, shut his eyes, and indulged in a
+hearty, silent laugh.
+
+"I am zorry," he said, suddenly growing serious; "und I veed and nurse a
+boor mans, und I zay to him: `Lie you there und go to sleep dill you are
+besser.'  Boot Meinheer Jack he ist a pig hoomboogs, and I gan zee all
+froo him.  Dunder and lightning!  I gif him der shdick.  Now gom und haf
+den breakfast, und den you shall gom indo mein shdore, und puy die
+mealies, und gorn, und dea, und goffee, und rice, und zhugars, und bay
+me den money, und we will load den wagon.  Den der vorks is done, und
+you shall gom und sit und dalk do me about die osdridge birds, while I
+shmoke mein bibe und you rest yourself, und resht die bullocks for two
+day.  Den you go pack to your pig bruder, who want to see you ferry
+pad."
+
+"Yes, I want to get back again," said Dyke.
+
+"Das ist goot, bud you moost haf a goot long resht, und go guide well
+again.  Und now, my younger vrient, I will dell you zomedings to dell
+dem bruder.  You dell him der osdridge ist no goot.  I haf dried, boot
+dey go zick, und guarrel, und fight, und ghick von anoder und efery
+bodies, und preak die legs; und die hens lay dere nests vull of pig
+eggs, und die ghocks gom und shoomp upon 'em, und make der feet all
+ovaire gustard und shell, und den no jickens gom.  You dell dem bruder
+dot your beebles haf been vinding die diamonds in der veldt, und he had
+petter go und look vor die brescious shdones, und nod preak hish hart
+like der gock osdridge preak die eggs his weibs lays."
+
+"Yes, I'll tell him, Herr Morgenstern.  I did want him to come and look
+for gold."
+
+"Ach! der golt ist no goot, bube.  Effery potty goes to look for den
+golt.  You dell him to go und look for die diamonds."
+
+"Yes, but where?" said Dyke drily.
+
+"Dunder und lightning!  If I know, I should dake two pig wagon to dem
+place, all vull of mealies und goot dings, und dell die beebles die
+diamonds vas here; und vhen dey gom to vind, I should zell mein goot
+dings und go und vetch zom move.  You must go und vind die places
+everyvere all ofers, und dell me.  I ken not, bood der are diamonds to
+be found.  Now you shdop dat ruck a dongue of yours, und do not dalk zo
+motch like an old vool, und gom und hafe zom breakfast, or the old frau
+vill gom after us mit a shdick."
+
+He winked comically at Dyke, and led the way to the house, where there
+was a warm welcome, and a delicious breakfast of bread and milk and
+coffee waiting, with glorious yellow butter and fried bacon to follow.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
+
+OOM MORGENSTERN'S SERMON.
+
+Duke was fed directly after the meal, and curled up afterward to "ged
+himselfs guide well again as effers."  Soon after Dyke came across Jack,
+who was returning from driving the bullocks down to the stream for
+water, and now carefully saw to their being in the best bit of the old
+man's pasture for a good feed and rest.
+
+"Ach zo!" cried the old man, "he ist a creat deal potter, mein young
+vrient.--You Shack, you hafe work well.  You gan go to mein haus, und
+die frau will give you blenty of mealie gake und zom milk.  You don't
+eat doo motch, or you will pe pad again, und want dem shdick.  You
+oontershdant?"
+
+Jack, whose face had been very pitiful and pleading, brightened up at
+this, and ran toward the house, while old Morgenstern turned and
+favoured Dyke with one of his winks.
+
+"You zee now, my younger vrient, he ist like a pig shild dot has been
+oop der shimney.  You must hid him hart negs dime.  You did hid doo
+zoft."
+
+"Soft!" cried Dyke.  "Why, I thought I had killed him."
+
+"Ach, yes, you dought zo; but der plack man's het is sehr dick.  You hid
+an Englishman, or a Deutschman, or a Boer, and his het ist tin; but a
+plack man's het is dick.  I dink zomdimes ven he ist so shdupid dot it
+ist all hart bone right froo.  But it ist not zo; it is only dot dey are
+shdupid liddle shildren, und dink of noting bud eat und drink und shleep
+demselfs as long as ever dey gan; dot is all.  You can neffer make a
+whide man oud of a plack man, if you wash him mid all der zoap in der
+world.  Now den, der tog is right, und der horse, und die pullocks, so
+you shall gom to my shdore."
+
+He led the way to a barn-like building, where he kept the supplies he
+dealt in and prospered over, settlers and travellers coming from far to
+purchase of the old fellow again and again, for he bore the proud title
+of honest man--a title that is known abroad as soon as that of rogue.
+And here Dyke produced his list, and corn, meal, bacon, tea, sugar,
+coffee, and salt were measured and weighed out by the help of a Kaffir
+boy, and set aside till all was done, when the old man, who had kept
+account all through with a clean, smooth box-lid and a piece of chalk,
+seated himself on a cask, added up and presented the wooden bill to
+Dyke.
+
+"There," he said; "it is a creat teal of money, und I feel ashamed to
+jarge so motch; but you dell der pig bruder it gost me as motch as effer
+vas to get die dings oop to mein haus.  I zend dwo wagon all der vays do
+der down, und dey are gone for months, und die men und die pullocks all
+haf to cad, und zomdimes die lions ead die oxen, und zomdimes die wheels
+gom off, und dere is vloods und die wasser, und I lose a creat deal.  I
+gannod jarge any less for mein dings."
+
+"My brother knows all that, sir," said Dyke frankly, as he paid the
+money at once.  "He said he would send me to you instead of to Oom
+Schlagen, because, he said, you would be just."
+
+"Did your pig bruder say dot?" cried the old man eagerly.
+
+"Yes.  He said I should come to you, though it was twenty long miles
+farther."
+
+"Ach! den now I shall go und shmoke mein piggest bibe for a dreat.  Dot
+does me goot.  Oom Schlagen is a pig fool; zo ist effery man who does
+not lofe his neighbour and zay his brayers effery night.  You
+oondershtand, mein younger vriend."
+
+Dyke nodded, feeling at first half amused, then impressed by the
+simple-hearted old German's manner.
+
+"Zom men gome out here into die veldt and zay: `Ach! it is a pig open
+blace, und nopody gan zee me here, und I zhall do whad I like,' und den
+dey rob und sheat, und kill die plack poys, und drink more as ist goot
+for demselfs, und all pecause they are pig fools.  For you haf read for
+youselfs, mein younger vrient, dot God is effery where und zees effery
+dings, und you gannot hide youselfs, or what you do.  Und dot's mein
+sermon, und it is a goot one, hey?  Pecause it is zo short.  Bud dot's
+all.  Now den," he continued, as he took down a great pipe, and began to
+fill it from a keg of tobacco, "I am going to shmoke mein bibe, pecause
+I veel as if I vas a goot poy."
+
+He struck a match, lit up, and as he began to emit great clouds of
+smoke, he carefully stamped out the last spark from the splint of wood,
+reseated himself, and chuckled.
+
+"You wait dill I haf finish mein bibe, und we vill all go to vork, und
+pack dese dings in dem wagon.  Now you look here.  I dell you about die
+diamonds--und der is hartly any potty yet as know--und as zoon as I haf
+dell you, I zay to myselfs: `Ach!  Hans Morgenstern, you are not a man:
+you are chattering old frau, who gannot keep a zecret.  You go dell
+effery potty.'  Und I vas ferry zorry pecause I vas soch an old
+dumkopf--you know what dot is?"
+
+"Something head," said Dyke, smiling.
+
+"Yaas, it ist your thick head, poy, shdupid head, und I vas gross mit
+myzelf, bud now I am glad.  Der pig bruder zaid I vas honest mans, und
+just.  I am a magistrate, und I dry to be, und I vall out mit den Boers,
+und zom oder white men, pecause I zay der Kaffir is a pig shdupid shild,
+und you must make him do what you want; but you shall not beat und kill
+him for nodings.  Ach! you laugh yourselfs pecause I use den shdick.
+Neffer mind.  I am just, und die Kaffirs know it, und gom und work for
+den alt man, und gom pack again.  I am glad now I did dell you about die
+diamonds.  Your bruder ist a gendlemans, und you dell him not to wasde
+his dime over die long shanks, and to go for die diamonds, und if he
+wands shdores, to gom mit his wagon, und get all he wands, und if he
+gannot bay me, id does not madder.  Zom day he will ged das money, und
+he gan bay me den.  Ach! he zaid I vas a honest man, und he is mein
+vrient, und dot is der zweetest bibe of dobacco I ever shmoke.  Now gom
+und help load den wagon, like a goot poy, and zom day, when you grow a
+pig man, you may learn to shmoke doo.  Boot it ist not goot for poys."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
+
+A DEAD CHECK.
+
+Two pleasant, restful days under the green leaves at old Morgenstern's
+farm and store, and he was pressed to stay another; but Dyke was anxious
+to get back to his brother, and with Duke limping about, the horse and
+bullocks looking quite fresh and well, everything loaded up carefully,
+and a cask of sweet, pure water slung at the back of the wagon, Dyke
+stood at early dawn ready to start.
+
+The oxen were yoked and hitched on to the dissel-boom and trek tow,
+breakfast was over, and all was ready, with Jack flourishing his great
+long whip of hippopotamus hide, eager to start.
+
+Just then the hospitable old German signed to the Kaffir to come
+alongside, and a chirrup brought up the dog as well.
+
+"Now, mein vrient," said the old man, "you gan oondershtand goot
+Englisch, if you gannot shpeak him zo vel ash me, zo you listen.  I am a
+creat magistrate, und know a lot.  I am going to dalk to dot tog, und
+you are to hear.--Now, my goot tog, you are better as effer you vas,
+heh?"
+
+Duke barked.
+
+"Das ist goot.  Now you are going to Kopfontein."
+
+The dog barked loudly.
+
+"Das ist good, too.  Now I dell you dis: if Kaffir Jack--you know Kaffir
+Jack--dot is him."
+
+He clapped his hand on the black's shoulder, and the dog barked
+excitedly.
+
+"Yaas, you know him; und I dell you dot if he does not work, you are to
+bide him."
+
+The dog's hair rose up, and Jack made a movement to run, but the big fat
+hand held him fast.
+
+"Und then, mein goot tog, if you do dot, he vill be ferry pad, und
+perhaps go mad.  I mean, if you bide him, hey?"
+
+The dog barked furiously, and Jack's blackish face turned of a horrible
+dirty grey as he stood shivering, having pretty well understood every
+word.
+
+"Dot is right; und now Kaffir Jack will drive die oxen, und pe a goot
+poy.  Now you go.  _Trek_!"
+
+The Kaffir sprang away, whip in hand, the willing oxen began to pull,
+and the wagon went off through the soft sand, Duke hurrying to his place
+beneath, just in front of the water cask, while Dyke stood, rein in
+hand, waiting to shake hands with his host, who laughed softly.
+
+"I dalk all dot nonsense do vrighten him like a shild," he said.  "He
+vill pe a goot poy now till he begin to forget, und den you must
+vrighten him doo.  Now goot-pye, und der goot God bless you, mein sohn."
+
+Dyke shook hands warmly with the friendly old man, sprang upon Breezy,
+and soon overtook the wagon, which was going steadily along the faint
+track.
+
+He glanced back several times, seeing the old trader standing in front
+of his house smoking his big pipe, but at last he was invisible, and the
+boy set himself to achieve his long, slow, five or six days' journey,
+hopeful, rested, and ready, feeling as if all was going to be right, and
+more happy in his mind than he had been for days.
+
+As he went on and on, fresh, light-hearted, and bright, every place made
+familiar by halts as he came, wore a very different aspect, and there
+were times when he smiled at some of the petty vexations, though others
+were serious enough.  For instance, by this water, where he had had so
+much difficulty in getting wood, for the day's journey had been very
+long, and it was growing dark when he halted, and a distant roar told of
+the possibility of a visit from lions, and perhaps the loss of one of
+the bullocks.  But now all was smooth and pleasant, the evening was
+glorious, the oxen not too weary, and Jack soon collected enough wood
+for cooking and keeping up a roaring blaze.
+
+The next day, too, was hot and pleasant.  Several guinea-fowl fell to
+Dyke's gun, and he shot a dangerous viper which raised its head
+sluggishly from the sandy track, threatening, with gleaming eyes and
+vibrating tongue, the barking dog, which kept cautiously beyond striking
+distance.  There were lions heard in the night, making the cattle
+uneasy, but they were not molested.
+
+It was wonderful as a contrast that journey back, and Dyke often asked
+himself, as he cantered about, sometimes to the side, sometimes letting
+the wagon go for some distance forward, whether he had not been of poor
+heart, and had made too much fuss over his troubles; but second thoughts
+convinced him that he had had a terrible task, and he almost wondered
+that he had been able to reach Morgenstern's at all.
+
+Jack was the very perfection of a Kaffir servant now, driving
+splendidly, and taking the greatest care as to the pasturing and
+watering of the cattle; his young master never having to find fault with
+a single thing.
+
+But there was the reason plainly enough; and Dyke smiled to himself as
+he thought of how easily the black had been impressed by the big old
+German, though he felt that Jack's guilty conscience had something to do
+with it.
+
+Oddly enough, the dog's behaviour during the return journey helped to
+keep Jack in order.  For Duke, though his hurts were mending fast, was
+still very weak.  He was ready to bark and make plenty of fuss over his
+master, but he did not evince the slightest desire to trot after him
+when he rode away from the wagon.  Duke seemed to know his own powers,
+and went back directly to his place between the two hind wheels of the
+wagon.  There he stayed, keeping step pretty well with the bullocks.
+But at every halt, when Jack proceeded to gather wood, drive the oxen to
+water or pasture, the dog followed close at his heels, making no
+demonstration of friendliness, never barking, but walking with lowered
+head and surly look, just behind, stopping when the black did, going on
+or returning, and never leaving him for a moment, and ending by going
+back to his place under the wagon, and there resting his head upon his
+paws.
+
+Of course, all this was the sick dog's natural objection to being left
+alone; but to Jack it meant a great deal more.  That dog had always been
+rather unfriendly, and was evidently a very uncanny kind of beast, which
+could understand everything that was said to him, and would fully carry
+out the old German's instructions.  Duke followed him about to see that
+he did his work properly, and as Jack walked on, he often felt the
+sensation in his calves known as pins and needles, which made him wince
+and tremble; and on one occasion he uttered a yell of horror, for the
+dog's cold nose touched one of his bare ankles, and made him bound a
+couple of yards.
+
+For to him there was no doubt about the matter whatever.  Duke was
+watching everything he did, and the moment he relaxed his efforts, those
+white teeth would close upon his leg; and if he had been talked to and
+argued with for a week, he would never have believed that he would not
+for a certainty go mad, die, and be thrown out upon the sands to the
+jackals and vultures which hung about their nightly camps.
+
+The consequence was that, saving a few of the trifling mishaps which
+befall wagon travellers through the South African deserts, Dyke's return
+journey was peaceful and enjoyable, even if slow.  He would often have
+liked to gallop forward to get nearer home; but the wagon held him as a
+magnet does its bar, and he thoroughly fulfilled the trust placed in him
+by his brother.
+
+At last the morning dawned when a steady day's work would bring them to
+Kopfontein, and starting at once, they got on a few miles before halting
+for breakfast.  Then went on for three hours; halted again to dine and
+rest during the hottest part of the day.  After which there was the
+little river to ford a couple of miles farther on, and then twelve miles
+would bring them home, late in the evening perhaps, but Dyke was
+determined to finish before he slept.
+
+Hardly had they settled down in the shelter of the wagon for that
+mid-day halt, than Dyke found that the wagon-tilt would be useful for
+something else besides keeping off the sun.  For some clouds which had
+been gathering all the morning, centred themselves at last directly
+overhead; there was a succession of terrific peals of thunder following
+upon blinding flashes of lightning, which seemed to play all round and
+about the wagon, making Breezy stand shivering as he pressed close up
+alongside, and drew the cattle together with their heads inward, as if
+for mutual protection.
+
+Then down came the rain in a perfect deluge, and for a good hour flash
+and peal seemed to be engaged in trying to tear up the clouds, from
+which the great drops of rain poured down.
+
+The storm ceased as quickly as it had come on, and the rain having been
+sucked up by the thirsty, sandy earth, so that when they started again,
+save that the wagon-cover was soaked, drawn tight, and streaming, there
+was no sign for a while of the storm.  There were certainly the clouds
+fading in the distance, but the sky overhead was of a glorious blue, the
+little herbage they passed was newly washed and clean, and the drops
+left sparkled in the brilliant sunshine.
+
+What followed, then, came as a surprise.
+
+They had gone on for some distance before it suddenly recurred to Dyke
+that they had to cross the little river; and now, for the first time, he
+became conscious of a low, soft murmur, as of insects swarming, but
+this, though continuous, did not take his attention much, for he set it
+down to a cloud of insects, roused from their torpor by the sun, and now
+busily feeding, perhaps, close at hand, though invisible as he rode
+gently along, breathing in with delight the sweet, cool air.
+
+But at the end of half an hour the murmur had grown louder, and it
+sounded louder still as he drew rein by some bushes to let Breezy crop
+the moist shoots, while he waited for the wagon to come up, it being
+about half a mile behind.
+
+"How slowly and deliberately those beasts do move," thought Dyke, as he
+watched the six sleek oxen, not a bit the worse for their journey,
+plodding gravely along with the wagon lightly laden, as it was, for six
+beasts to draw, bumping and swaying every now and then as a stone or two
+stood up through the sand, he not being there to point them out to the
+black, who sat on the wagon-box, with his chin upon his breast, rousing
+himself from time to time to crack his whip and shout out some jargon to
+the bullocks.  These took not the slightest notice of whip-crack or
+shout, but plodded slowly along, tossing their heads now and then, and
+bringing their horns in contact with a loud rap.
+
+At last they came up abreast, and Jack turned his dark face, and grinned
+meaningly.
+
+"What is it?" said Dyke.  "Glad you are so near home?"
+
+"No see Tanta Sal night," he said.
+
+"Oh yes, we will," replied Dyke.  "I mean to be home before we sleep."
+
+Jack shook his head.
+
+"You'll see, my fine fellow," said Dyke to himself.  "If you are going
+to begin any games just for a finish off on the last day, you'll find
+you'll be startled.  I'll set Duke at him, and scare the beggar," he
+muttered, as he laughed to himself at the man's genuine belief in, and
+alarm about, the dog; and in imagination he saw Jack hopping about and
+yelling, and afraid to come down from the wagon-box in front on account
+of Duke, who would be barking and dancing about as if trying to drag him
+off.
+
+He let the wagon go on then for a few yards, and hung back so as to say
+a few cheery words to the dog, who responded with a sharp bark or two,
+but did not come from beneath the wagon.
+
+And now the noise grew louder and louder, till at last Dyke began to
+divine the cause.  A short distance farther the open plain was crossed
+by an erratic line of trees and rocks, forming a green and grey zigzag
+of some three hundred yards wide, and down in a hollow, hidden till
+close up, there was the rivulet-like stream at which he had halted on
+his outward way to let the animals drink.
+
+It was from there, then, that the now rapidly increasing murmur arose,
+and pressing his nag's sides, he rode rapidly on to reach the side of
+the tiny bourn, which now proved to be a fierce torrent nearly a hundred
+yards wide, raging amongst rocks, tossing up beady spray, and putting an
+end to all his hopes of reaching home that night, for even as he looked
+he could see that the water was rising still, and any attempt to ford
+meant certain death to man and beast.
+
+Dyke's heart sank.  He knew now the meaning of the Kaffir's grin.  It
+was the first trouble of the homeward way.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
+
+OUT OF PATIENCE.
+
+The wagon came slowly up as Dyke stood watching the roaring river, full
+from side to side with the waters, which resulted from a cloud-burst in
+the distant mountains, where storms had been raging on the previous day,
+that which they had encountered a short time before being the remains of
+one of the drifts which had passed over the great plain.
+
+As he drove up, Jack sat grinning pleasantly upon the box, and of his
+own will turned the bullocks into a meadow-like opening, whose fresh
+herbage, sparkling still with clinging raindrops, set the animals lowing
+with satisfaction before stooping from time to time to snatch a mouthful
+of the grass.
+
+Jack evidently thought it would be a splendid place for a camp, and
+without waiting for orders, shouted to the bullocks to stop, and
+descending from his seat, after laying aside his whip, began to outspan.
+
+Dyke took in every action, knowing that it was only an endorsement of
+his own thoughts that the full river meant in all probability a halt for
+days.  There was the possibility of his being able to swim his horse
+across somewhere higher up or lower down; but after a few minutes'
+inspection he felt that this was quite hopeless, though, even if it had
+been practicable, he knew that he could not leave his charge.
+
+So vexatious when so near home!
+
+"Might have known," he said to himself bitterly.  "Everything was going
+on too easily.  But the rain might have stopped for another day or two."
+
+He tried hard to be philosophic and to take matters calmly, but it was
+too hard work, especially, too, when the Kaffir seemed in such high
+glee, and bustled about the outspanning, as if looking forward to some
+days of rest, with nothing to do but eat and sleep.
+
+The boy thought hard as he dismounted, hobbled his cob, and let him
+begin to graze in company with the draught oxen; but he soon gave that
+up, and went and stood watching the rushing river, knowing full well
+that he was completely shut away from Kopfontein, and that he could do
+nothing but wait patiently till the river sank to its old level.
+
+"And that," he said dismally, "will be quite a week."
+
+Things might have been worse.  In fact, some people would have been
+delighted with the position.  For the spot was beautiful; the wagon
+formed a comfortable sleeping tent, provisions and water were plentiful,
+and there was ample opportunity for adding to the larder by tying in
+wait at early morning and late evening for the birds and animals which
+came from far out in the desert to drink.
+
+In fact, during his dreary wait, Dyke tried to amuse himself by watching
+the various animals that came down one deeply trampled track, on either
+side of which the place was thickly bushed and dotted with fine forest
+trees, well grown, from their nearness to water.
+
+Antelopes of many kinds came down, from tiny gazelles up to the great
+eland.  One morning he was delighted by the coming of a little herd of
+about a dozen giraffes, and he crouched among the bushes, watching them
+drink; the towering bull of about eighteen feet in height began by
+straddling out its forelegs in the most ungraceful way, till it could
+lower itself enough to reach the water with its lips.
+
+Another time he was startled by the coming of a huge white rhinoceros,
+which careered through the bushes in a fierce, determined way,
+displaying its great power and indifference to every other beast of the
+forest.
+
+Lions, too, came once and pulled down an antelope, making the wagon
+cattle extremely uneasy, but going away after their banquet, and
+troubling the camp no more.
+
+But the river remained as full as ever, the waters rushing furiously
+down, and Dyke grew angry at last against his brother.
+
+"Joe knows I'm overdue," he said, "and he ought to have come to see why
+I am detained.  Why, after that rain he ought to have known that the
+river would be full.  It's too bad.  I thought better of him; but
+perhaps he'll come to-day."
+
+And with this hope the boy climbed one of the biggest rocks to where he
+could gaze across the river and over the plain on the other side,
+looking out in expectancy of seeing the big weedy horse his brother rode
+coming toward the ford, but he watched in vain day after day, while Jack
+kept the fire going, and cooked and ate and slept without a care, not
+even seeming to give a thought to the wife waiting at Kopfontein, or,
+judging from appearances, to anything else but his own desires.
+
+"I should like to kick him--a lazy brute!"  Dyke said to himself; "but
+there's nothing to kick him for now.  He does all there is to do.  I
+suppose I'm out of temper at having to wait so.  Here's a whole week
+gone, and the river higher than ever."
+
+Dyke had one other novelty to study--a novelty to him, for previously he
+had seen but little of them.  This novelty was a party of baboons of all
+sizes, from the big, heavy males down to the young ones, which
+approached from some distance on the other side, clinging to their
+mothers' backs and necks.  These strange, dog-like creatures came down
+from a high clump of rocks or kopje regularly every evening in the same
+way; and though they had been heard and seen frequently during the
+daytime, chattering, barking, and gambolling about, chasing one another
+in and out, and over the stones, as if thoroughly enjoying the sport,
+toward the time for their visit to the river all would be very silent,
+and in a cautious, watchful way a big old male, who seemed to be the
+captain or chief of the clan, would suddenly trot out on to a big block,
+and stand there carefully scanning the patch of forest and the plain
+beyond for danger.  Then he would change to a nearer natural
+watch-tower, and have another long scrutiny, examining every spot likely
+to harbour an enemy, till, apparently satisfied, he would descend, go
+down to the river and drink, and then trot back to his lookout.
+
+After a few minutes' watch, he would then give a signal, a quick, short,
+barking sound, at which the rocks beyond, which the moment before had
+appeared to be deserted, suddenly became alive with baboons of all
+sizes, which came running down to the water in perfect confidence that
+all was well, and that their old chief high up on the rock would give
+them fair warning of the approach of any of their feline enemies,
+leopard or lion, with a taste for the semi-human kind.
+
+Upon one occasion Dyke suddenly started up, shouted, and fired his gun,
+for the sake of seeing what effect it would have.
+
+Instant flight he felt sure; but he was not prepared for all that
+followed.
+
+At the first sound there was a rush--a regular _sauve qui peut_; but
+there was a method in it.  Mothers caught up their little ones, which
+fled to them for protection, and one big male made a kind of
+demonstration to cover the flight, while the old fellow on the rock
+sprang about, barking, shouting, and making little charges at the
+interrupter, not leaving his post till all had reached their sanctuary,
+when he followed to the kopje, and turned with others to stand, barking
+hoarsely, and picking up and throwing stones, with every sign of angry
+defiance, till their persecutor disappeared.
+
+Nine days had passed, and then the river began to shrink rapidly.
+
+Dyke hailed the change with eagerness, for he had been growing terribly
+anxious, and more and more convinced that something must be wrong, or
+Emson would have come down to the flooded ford; while at last his
+thoughts had taken a definite shape, one so full of horror, that he
+trembled for the task he had to perform--that of going home to put
+matters to the proof.
+
+He shivered at the idea, for now he could only place this terrible
+interpretation upon his brother's silence--he must have come to meet
+him, tried to swim his horse across the river, and have been swept away.
+
+That last night was almost sleepless, for whenever the boy dropped off,
+with the light of the fire they kept up glancing on the canvas, he
+started back into wakefulness again, wondering whether the river was
+still going down, or some fancied sound meant a fresh accession to the
+flood-waters coming down from the mountains.
+
+The morning broke at last, and leaping out of the wagon, Dyke ran down
+toward the river, closely followed by the dog, now nearly recovered,
+scaring away a buck which had been lurking in the covert, the graceful
+little creature bounding away before him giving pretty good proof of the
+satisfactory state of the river by dashing over the thick bed of
+intervening sand and stones, splashing through the water, and bounding
+up the other side.
+
+The waters were down, leaving a deep bed of sand, and with a place to
+ford that was evidently not knee-deep.
+
+Dyke ran excitedly back, gave his orders, and to Jack's great disgust he
+had to inspan, mount on the wagon-box, and shout to the oxen to _trek_,
+the well-rested beasts willingly dragging the wagon through the heavy
+loose drift and down into the water, which did not rise to the naves of
+the wheels.  It took rather a hard pull to get up the other side, but
+the difficulty was soon mastered, the bullocks following Breezy, as his
+master led the way, and in half an hour after starting they were at last
+well on the road to Kopfontein, whose rocky mound stood up clearly in
+the morning light.
+
+Dyke restrained his impatience a little longer--that is, till the wagon
+was well on its way over the plain; then touching Breezy's sides he went
+on ahead at a gallop, the roofing of the house and sheds gradually
+growing plainer; then there were the ostrich-pens, with a few dimly seen
+birds stalking about, and object after object coming rapidly into sight.
+But there was no one visible: there appeared to be no blue thread of
+smoke rising in the morning air, where Tanta Sal was boiling the kettle;
+all looked wonderfully still, and had it not been for the ostriches here
+and there, Dyke would have been disposed to think the place was
+deserted.
+
+On, still nearer and nearer, but no one appeared, and again still
+nearer, and his lips parted to utter a loud shout to announce his
+coming.
+
+But somehow the cry froze in his throat, and he dared not utter it; the
+place was deserted, he felt sure.  Tanta Sal must have gone off to seek
+her tribe after the terrible catastrophe, for Dyke felt sure now that
+his surmise was right, and that Emson had been drowned in trying to ford
+the river and come to meet him.
+
+The boy's spirits sank lower and lower as he checked his horse's pace to
+a canter, hushing the beat of its feet upon the soft sand as he rode on,
+seeing no one stirring, and at last, in the deepest despair, feeling as
+if he dare go no farther.  But just at that moment a low crooning sound
+fell upon his ear, and the reaction was so sudden and so great that Dyke
+nearly shouted aloud as he pressed on to the door, feeling now that he
+had been letting his imagination run riot, and that there was nothing
+whatever the matter.  In fact, that was his brother's tall gaunt horse
+grazing where it had been hidden from his sight by one of the low,
+shed-like buildings.
+
+"What a lot of stuff one can fancy!" said Dyke to himself.  "Why, it's
+early yet, and poor old Joe hasn't got up.  I'll give him such a
+rouser."
+
+The next minute he had pulled up, thrown his rein over the cob's head,
+as he dismounted, and ran to the open doorway from whence came the
+crooning sound.
+
+"Morning, Tant," he cried to the woman, who sat crouched together on the
+floor.
+
+Then as his eyes caught sight of the pallet in the corner of the room,
+he shouted:
+
+"Joe, old man, what is it?  Are you ill?"
+
+"No makee noisy," cried the woman; "shoo, shoo, shoo.  Baas Joe go die."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
+
+A TEST OF MANHOOD.
+
+Dyke uttered a cry of horror as he ran to the bedside and sank upon his
+knees, gazing wildly in his brother's dark, thin face, with its wild
+eyes, in which was no sign of recognition, though Emson kept on
+muttering in a low voice.
+
+"Joe--Joe, old fellow, don't you know me?"  There was no reply, and in
+his agony of spirit Dyke caught his burning, dry hand, and pressed it.
+
+"Speak to me!" he cried.  "How long have you been ill?  What is it, Joe?
+Tell me.  What am I to do?"
+
+No answer; but the muttering went on, and Dyke turned to the Kaffir
+woman.  "How long has he been ill?"
+
+"Baas Joe go die," said the woman, nodding her head.
+
+"No, no; he will be better soon.  When was he taken ill?"
+
+"Baas Joe go die," said the woman with horrible persistence.  "No eat--
+no drink--no sleep.  Go die."
+
+"Go away!" cried Dyke wildly.  "You are as bad as one of those horrible
+birds.  Get out!"
+
+The woman smiled, for she did not understand a word.  The gesture of
+pointing to the door was sufficient, and she went out, leaving the
+brothers alone.
+
+"Joe!" cried Dyke wildly.  "Can't you speak to me, old chap?  Can't you
+tell me what to do?  I want to help you, but I am so stupid and
+ignorant.  What can I do?"
+
+The muttering went on, and the big erst strong man slowly rolled his
+head from side to side, staring away into the past, and sending a chill
+of horror through the boy.
+
+For a few moments Dyke bowed his head right into his hands, and uttered
+a low groan of agony, completely overcome by the horror of his
+position--alone there in that wild place, five or six days' journey from
+any one, and hundreds of miles from a doctor, even if he had known where
+to go.
+
+He broke down, and crouched there by the bedside completely prostrate
+for a few minutes--not for more.  Then the terrible emergency stirred
+him to action, and he sprang up ready to fight the great danger for his
+brother's sake, and determined to face all.
+
+What to do?
+
+He needed no telling what was wrong; his brother was down with one of
+the terrible African fevers that swept away so many of the whites who
+braved the dangers of the land, and Dyke knew that he must act at once
+if the poor fellow's life was to be saved.
+
+But how?  What was he to do?
+
+To get a doctor meant a long, long journey with a wagon.  He felt that
+it would be impossible to make that journey with a horse alone, on
+account of the necessity for food for himself and steed.  But he could
+not go.  If he did, he felt that it would be weeks before he could get
+back with medical assistance, even if he reached a doctor, and could
+prevail upon him to come.  And in that time Joe, left to the care of
+this half-savage woman, who had quite made up her mind that her master
+would die, would be dead indeed.
+
+No: the only chance of saving him was never to leave his side.
+
+Fever!  Yes, they had medicine in the house for fever.  Quinine--
+Warburgh drops--and chlorodyne.  Which would it be best to give?  Dyke
+hurried to the chest which contained their valuables and odds and ends,
+and soon routed out the medicines, deciding at once upon quinine, and
+mixing a strong dose of that at once, according to the instructions
+given upon the bottle.
+
+That given, the boy seated himself upon a box by the bed's head, asking
+himself what he ought to do next.
+
+He took Emson's hand again, and felt his pulse, but it only told him
+what he knew--that there was a terrible fever raging, and the pulsations
+were quick and heavy through the burning skin.
+
+A sudden thought struck him now.  The place was terribly hot, and he
+hurriedly opened the little window for the breeze to pass through.
+
+There was an alteration in the temperature at once, but he knew that was
+not enough, and running to the door, he picked up a bucket, and called
+for Tanta Sal, who came slowly.
+
+"Baas Joe go die.--Jack?"
+
+She pointed away over the plain, and Dyke nodded.
+
+"Yes, Jack is coming.  Go, quick! fetch water."
+
+The woman understood, and taking the bucket, went off at once towards
+where the cool spring gurgled among the rocks at the kopje.
+
+The feeling of terrible horror and fear attacked Dyke again directly,
+and he shrank from going to his brother's side, lest he should see him
+pass away to leave him alone there in the desert; but a sensation of
+shame came to displace the fear.  It was selfish, he felt; and with a
+new thought coming, he went to the back of the door, took down the great
+heavy scissors with which he and Emson had often operated upon the
+ostrich-feathers, cutting them off short, and leaving the quill stumps
+in the birds' skins, where after a time they withered and fell out,
+giving place to new plumes.  Then kneeling down by the head of the rough
+bed, he began to shear away the thick close locks of hair from about the
+sick man's temples, so that the brain might be relieved of some of the
+terrible heat.
+
+This done, he went to the chest, and got out a couple of handkerchiefs.
+
+His stay in that torrid clime had taught him much, but he had never
+thought of applying a little physical fact to the purpose he now
+intended.  For he knew that if a bottle or jug of water were surrounded
+by a wet cloth and kept saturated, either in a draught or in the sun,
+the great evaporation which went on would cool the water within the
+vessel.
+
+"And if it will do this," Dyke thought, "why will it not cool poor Joe's
+head?"
+
+He bent down over him, and spoke softly, then loudly; but Emson was
+perfectly unconscious, and wandering in his delirium, muttering words
+constantly, but what they were Dyke could not grasp.
+
+In a few minutes Tanta Sal re-appeared with the bucket of cool
+spring-water.
+
+"Baas Joe go die," she said, shaking her head as she set it down; and
+then, without waiting to be told to go, she went round to the back, and
+began to pile up fuel and fan the expiring fire, before proceeding to
+make and bake a cake.
+
+Meanwhile, Dyke had been busy enough.  He had soaked one of the
+handkerchiefs in the bucket, and laid it dripping right across Emson's
+brow and temples, leaving it there for a few minutes, while he prepared
+the other.  The minutes were not many when he took off the first to find
+it quite hot, and he replaced it with the other, which became hot in
+turn, and was changed; and so he kept on for quite an hour, with the
+result that his brother's mutterings grew less rapid and loud, so that
+now and then the boy was able to catch a word here and a word there.
+All disconnected, but suggestive of the trouble that was on the sick
+man's mind, for they were connected with the birds, and his ill-luck,
+his voice taking quite a despairing tone as he cried:
+
+"No good.  Failure, failure--nothing succeeds.  It is of no use."
+
+And then, in quite a piteous tone:
+
+"Poor Dyke!  So hard for him."
+
+This was too much.  The tears welled up in the boy's eyes, but he
+mastered his emotion, and kept on laying the saturated bandages upon his
+brother's brow, watching by him hour after hour, forgetful of
+everything, till all at once there was a loud, deep barking, and Duke
+trotted into the house, to come up to the bedside, raise himself up, and
+begin pawing at the friend he had not seen for so long.
+
+"It's no good, Duke, old chap," said Dyke sadly; "he don't know you.  Go
+and lie down, old man.  Go away."
+
+The dog dropped down on all-fours at once, and quickly sought his
+favourite place in one corner of the room, seeming to comprehend that he
+was not wanted there, and evidently understanding the order to lie down.
+
+The coming of the dog was followed by the approach of the wagon, and the
+lowing of the bullocks as they drew near to their familiar quarters; the
+cows answered, and Duke leaped up and growled, uttering a low bark, but
+returned to his corner as soon as bidden.
+
+At first Dyke had felt stunned by the terrible calamity which had
+overtaken his brother; but first one and then another thing had been
+suggested to his mind, and the busy action had seemed to clear his
+brain.
+
+This cool application had certainly had some effect; and as he changed
+the handkerchief again, he saw plainly enough what he must do next.
+
+Wiping his hands, he sought for paper and pencil, and wrote in a big
+round hand:
+
+"_I came home and found my brother here, at Kopfontein, bad with fever.
+He does not know me.  Pray send to fetch a doctor_."
+
+He folded this, then doubled it small, and tied it up with a piece of
+string, after directing it to "Herr Hans Morgenstern, at the Store."
+
+This done, he once more changed the wet handkerchiefs, and went out to
+find Jack outspanning the cattle, and talking in a loud voice to his
+wife.
+
+"Jack," he said, "the baas is very bad.  You must go back to
+Morgenstern's and take this."
+
+He handed the tied-up paper to the Kaffir, who took it, turned it over,
+and then handed it back, looking at his young master in the most
+helplessly stupid way.
+
+Dyke repeated the order, and pointed toward the direction from which
+they had come, forcing the letter into Jack's hand.
+
+It was returned, though, the next moment.
+
+"Jack bring wagon all alone," he said.
+
+"Yes, I know; but you must go back again.  Take plenty of mealies, and
+go to Morgenstern's and give him that."
+
+"Jack bring wagon all alone," the black said again; and try how Dyke
+would, he did not seem as if he could make the Kaffir understand.
+
+In despair he turned to Tanta Sal, and in other words bade her tell her
+husband go back at once; that he might take a horse if he thought he
+could ride one; if not, he must walk back to Morgenstern's, and carry
+the letter, and tell him that the baas was bad.
+
+"Baas Joe go die," said the woman, nodding her head.
+
+"No, no; he will live if we help," cried Dyke wildly.  "Now, tell Jack
+he must go back at once, as soon as he has had some mealies."
+
+"Baas Joe go die," reiterated the woman.
+
+"Hold your tongue!" roared Dyke angrily.  "You understand what I mean.
+Jack is to go back.--Do you hear, Jack?  Go back, and take that to
+Morgenstern's."
+
+The Kaffir and his wife stared at him heavily, with their lower jaws
+dropped, and after several more efforts, Dyke turned back to the house
+to continue his ministrations.
+
+"They understand me, both of them," he cried bitterly; "but he does not
+want to go, and Tant wants him to stay.  What shall I do?  What shall I
+do?"
+
+He changed the handkerchiefs, and rushed out again, but the Kaffirs were
+invisible; and going round to the back, he found Jack squatted on his
+heels, eating the hot cake his wife was baking.  But though Dyke tried
+command and entreaty, the pair only listened to him in a dazed kind of
+way, and it was quite evident that unless he tried violence he would not
+be able to make the Kaffir stir; while even if he did use force, he felt
+that Jack would only go a short distance and there remain.
+
+"And I can't leave here!  I can't leave here!" groaned Dyke; "it would
+be like saying good-bye to poor Joe for ever."
+
+Clinging to the faint hope that after he had been well-fed and rested,
+the Kaffir might be made to fulfil the duty required of him, Dyke went
+on tending his brother, with the satisfactory result of seeing him drop
+at last into a troubled sleep, from which, two hours after, he started
+up to call out for Dyke.
+
+"I'm here, Joe, old chap.  Can't you see me?" said the boy piteously.
+
+"No use: tell him no use.  Madness to come.  All are dying.  Poor Dyke!
+So hard--so hard."
+
+Dyke felt his breast swell with emotion, and then came a fresh horror:
+the evening was drawing on, and he would be alone there with the sick
+man, watching through the darkness, and ignorant of how to act--what to
+do.  And now the thought of his position, alone there in the great
+desert, seemed more than he could bear; the loneliness so terrible, that
+once more, in the midst of the stifling heat, he shuddered and turned
+cold.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER NINETEEN.
+
+STERLING COIN.
+
+Dyke Emson sat in the darkness there along.  He had seen no more of Jack
+and Tanta Sal since the evening.  The latter had looked in, stared
+stupidly, said "Baas Joe go die," once more, and roused the boy into
+such a pitch of fury that he came nigh to throwing something at her.
+Then she left the room with her husband, and Dyke was alone.
+
+He felt ready to give up, and throw himself upon his face in his great
+despair, for hour by hour the feeling strengthened that his brother was
+indeed dying fast; and as he sat there in the midst of that terrible
+solitude, shut in, as it were, by the black darkness, his busy
+imagination flooded his brain with thoughts of what he would have to do.
+
+The fancy maddened him, for it seemed cruel and horrible to think of
+such a thing when his brother lay there muttering in the delirium; but
+the thought would come persistently, and there was the picture vividly
+standing out before him.  For his mind was in such an unnatural state of
+exaltation that he could not keep it hidden from his mental gaze.
+
+There it all was, over and over again: that place he had selected where
+it was nearly always shaded--in that rift in the kopje where the soft
+herbage grew, and climbed and laced overhead, while the low murmur of
+the water gurgling from the rocks in the next rift fell gently upon his
+ear.  He had selected that spot because it was so calm and peaceful, and
+drawn poor Joe there upon the little sled.  He saw it all--the shallow,
+dark bed he had dug in the soft earth, where his brother was to rest in
+peace, with all the suffering at an end.  There were big, mossy pieces
+of granite there, which would cover and protect the poor fellow's
+resting-place, and a smooth, perpendicular face of rock above, on which
+he saw himself, chipping out with hammer and cold chisel the one word
+"Joe."
+
+And then--
+
+Back came the terrible scene, and over and over again, till, setting his
+teeth hard, Dyke sprang up, and went to another bucket of water which he
+had made Jack understand he was to fetch before he left him some hours
+ago, and drank long and deeply before returning to the rough pallet,
+renewing the cold bandage again, and then sinking upon his knees to bury
+his face in his hands.
+
+For a full hour Dyke knelt there in the black darkness as if asleep,
+exhausted by the great mental and bodily fatigue, but hearing every
+movement--thrilled by the piteous words which came from his brother's
+lips.  Then with a strange feeling of calm rest filling his breast, he
+raised his head, bent over the sick man, and took the hot, burning hand
+to hold it to his cheek.
+
+"I won't be such a coward as to break down now, Joe, old chap," he said
+softly, and as if it were a confidential whisper which his brother
+heard.  "I was so tired, and I was frightened to see you like this, but
+I'm going to try and play the man now, and--and I'll stick to you, Joe,
+to the--"
+
+He was going to say "last," but he checked it, with something like a sob
+rising to his lips.
+
+"Till--till you get better, old man, and I can help you to go and sit in
+my old corner in the shade among the rocks.  For you're going to be
+better soon, old chap; and though you're very bad, and it's dark, and
+help is so far away, we're not alone, Joe--we're not alone."
+
+No: not alone!
+
+For as the boy knelt there, holding that burning hand, there came the
+long, low, yelping wail of the jackals prowling around, as if they
+scented death in the air; and as the dismal sound swept here and there
+about the lonely house, coming and going, and at times apparently quite
+close, Dyke shuddered.  But the next moment there arose the deep-toned,
+fierce roar of a lion, far away possibly, yet in its tremendous power
+sounding so near that it might have been close at hand.
+
+Then the yelping of the jackals ceased, as if the foul creatures had
+been scared away by the nobler beast; and after a few uneasy movements
+among the frightened cattle in the pens, all was still with a great
+solemnity, which thrilled the boy to his deepest depths.
+
+And then it seemed to Dyke that it was not so dark, and he rose and
+walked softly to the open door to stand looking out, wondering and
+awe-stricken at the grandeur of the scene above his head.  For it was as
+if the heavens were marked across the zenith by a clearly cut line--the
+edge of a black cloud--and on one side all was darkness, on the other a
+dazzling sheen of stars, glittering and bright as he thought he had
+never seen them before; while the darkness was being swept away, and
+fresh stars sprang out from the dense curtain minute by minute, and
+seemed to rain down myriads of points of light.
+
+He stood there till he heard a low, weary sigh from the rough bed, and
+turned back in time to hear a few muttered words, and then all was
+silent once again.
+
+Dyke trembled, and something seemed to hold him fast chained, as if in a
+troubled dream.
+
+Then with a wild cry he fell upon his knees, and stretched out his
+trembling hands to touch his brother's brow, and the reaction came, for
+it was not as he thought.  The head was cooler, and there was a faint
+moisture about the temples, while the muttering was renewed for a few
+moments, and ended with a sigh.
+
+Dyke's hands were softly passed then to his brother's breast, which rose
+and fell gently, and when he let his fingers glide along the arm that
+had been tossed to one side, there the tell-tale pulse beat rapidly
+still at the wrist, but not--certainly not so heavily and hurried in
+every throb, for Joe Emson was sleeping as he had not slept for many
+days.
+
+The hours went on till, as Dyke sat there, the darkness began to pass,
+and the watcher was conscious of a double dawn.  The first in himself,
+where, as he crouched by the bed, and thought of words that had never
+impressed him much before, it was as if Hope were rising slowly, and it
+strengthened in its pale, soft light, and mingled with the faint grey
+which began to steal in through the narrow window.  And this too
+lengthened and strengthened, till it began to glow.  The fowls--the few
+they had left--told that it was day.  Once more he could hear the
+ostriches chuckling, hissing, and roaring, and the lowing of the cows
+and bullocks sounded pleasant and welcome, as a fresh, soft air began to
+play through the door.
+
+The shadows within the room grew paler, till, all at once, they darkened
+again in the corners, for the full beams of the sun suddenly stole in
+through the window, and played upon the opposite wall, which glowed in
+orange and gold.
+
+But Dyke did not see the refulgent hues with which the shabby white-wash
+and prints were painted, for he was watching his brother's face, all so
+terribly changed since their last parting.  The eyes were sunken, and
+hollows showed about the temples and cheeks.  There was a terrible dry
+blackness, too, about the skin; while the hands that lay upon the bed
+were thin and full of starting tendons, all tokens of the fever which
+had laid the strong man low.
+
+But he was sleeping, and sleep at such a time meant life; while the
+head, bared now by the rough shearing Dyke had given the previous
+evening, was hot, but not burning with that terrible fire which scorches
+out the very life where it has commenced to glow.
+
+"Baas Joe dead?" said a voice at the door, and Dyke started to his feet
+to seize a short, heavy whip; but Kaffir Jack did not stop to see it
+seized.  He turned and fled, while a low muttering growl roused the boy
+to the fact that the dog had been there in the corner all the night, and
+now came forward to thrust a cool nose into his master's hand.
+
+"Why, Duke, old chap, I'd forgotten you," said Dyke softly.  The dog
+gave his tail a series of rapid wags, and then came to the bedside,
+looked at the sick man, whined softly, and then sat and rested his
+muzzle upon one of the feeble hands, watching the face intently, and as
+if meaning to keep guard there.
+
+Dyke followed, and laid his hand on the dog's head; but the faithful
+animal did not stir.
+
+"No, Duke, old man, Baas Joe is not dead yet," whispered Dyke, as he
+gazed at his brother's face; "and, please God, we're going to bring him
+safely back to what he was."
+
+Duke did not move his head; but he raised his tail once, and brought it
+down upon the floor with a heavy--_whop_!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY.
+
+A SORE STRAIT.
+
+"Stop and watch," said Dyke; and leaving the dog in charge, he went out
+into the glorious light of day, feeling strong now, but horribly weak.
+
+A contradiction, but a fact, for though he had drunk of the cool fresh
+water several times, he had taken nothing since the previous morning,
+and if he had to nurse Emson back to life, he knew that he must gather
+force by means of food.
+
+He had to carry on the work of the place still, he felt, as his brother
+was helpless; and as he walked round to the back of the premises, he
+began to feel something like wonder at the terrible despair from which
+he had suffered since his return.  For everything looked so bright and
+cheery and home-like, and the world around him so beautiful, that he
+felt ready for any new struggle in the great fight for life.
+
+"She's always squatting over a fire," said Dyke to himself, as he went
+round to the back, for there was Tanta Sal down in a wonderfully
+frog-like attitude, turning herself into a very vigorous natural
+bellows, to make the fire glow under the kettle.
+
+She looked up and smiled, drawing back her thick lips as the lad
+approached.
+
+"Baas Joe die?" she said.
+
+"Look here!" roared Dyke fiercely: "don't you say that to me again.
+No--_No_--No--No!"
+
+Tanta Sal stared at him and shook her head.
+
+"Breakfast!" cried Dyke laconically.
+
+That she understood, and Dyke hurried away to take a sharp glance round
+before going back to his brother's side.
+
+It was needed.  The cows were not milked, and not likely to be; the
+horses had not been fed, and the ostriches were clamouring for food.
+
+Just then he saw Jack peeping at him from round the corner of one of the
+sheds; but as soon as he caught sight of his young master, he drew back.
+
+Instead of going on, Dyke darted round to the other side of the
+building, knowing full well that if he ran after him, Jack would dash
+off more quickly than he could.  So stopping and creeping on over the
+sand, he peeped round and saw the man before him just about to perform
+the same act.  Consequently Dyke was able to pounce upon the Kaffir,
+whom he seized by the waist-cloth.
+
+"Here, I want you," he cried sternly, and in a gruff voice which he
+hardly knew for his own.
+
+"Baas want?"
+
+"Yes: go and begin milking the cows.  I'll send Tant to you directly."
+
+The man showed his teeth, and stood shaking his head.
+
+To his utter astonishment Dyke shifted his grasp, and caught him by the
+throat with one hand, and shook his fist in his face.
+
+"Look here," he said; "you can understand English when you like, and
+you've got to understand it now.  Baas Joe's sick."
+
+"Baas Joe go die," said the man.
+
+"Baas Joe go live," cried Dyke fiercely, "and he'll flog you well if you
+don't behave yourself.  You go and milk those two cows, and then feed
+the ostriches and horses, or I'll fetch Duke to watch you, so look out."
+
+Jack's jaw dropped at the mention of the dog, and he hurried away; while
+Dyke, after a glance at the wagon, which stood just where it had been
+dragged with its load, was about to re-enter the house, when he caught
+sight of three Kaffirs watching him from beyond one of the ostrich-pens.
+
+"Who are you?" he said to himself.  "What do they want?"
+
+He went quickly toward them, but they turned and fled as hard as they
+could go, assegai in hand, and the boy stopped and watched them for some
+time, thinking very seriously, for he began to divine what it all meant.
+
+"They have heard from Tant that Joe is dying, and I suppose I'm nobody.
+They are hanging about to share everything in the place with our two;
+but--"
+
+Dyke's _but_ meant a good deal.  The position was growing serious, yet
+he did not feel dismayed, for, to use his own words, it seemed to stir
+him up to show fight.
+
+"And I will, too," he said through his teeth.  "I'll let 'em see."
+
+He went back into the house to find Emson sleeping, and apparently
+neither he nor the dog had moved.
+
+"Ah, Duke, that's right," said Dyke.  "I shall want you.  You can keep
+watch for me when I go away."
+
+Just then Tanta Sal came in, smiling, to tell him that breakfast was
+ready, and he began to question her about when his brother was taken
+ill.  But either from obtuseness or obstinacy, he could get nothing from
+the woman, and he was about to let her go while he ate his breakfast of
+mealie cake and hot milk; but a sudden thought occurred to him.  Had
+those Kaffirs been about there before?
+
+He asked the woman, but in a moment her smile had gone, and she was
+staring at him helplessly, apparently quite unable to comprehend the
+drift of his questions; so he turned from her in a pet, to hurry through
+his breakfast, thinking the while of what he had better do.
+
+He soon decided upon his first step, and that was to try and get Jack
+off to Morgenstern's with his letter; and after attending to Emson and
+repeating the medicine he had given the previous day, he went out, to
+find that the animals had been fed, and that Jack was having his own
+breakfast with his wife.
+
+There was a smile for him directly from both, and he plunged into his
+business at once; but as he went on, the smiles died out, and all he
+said was received in a dull, stolid way.  Neither Jack nor his wife
+would understand what he meant--their denseness was impenetrable.
+
+"It's of no use to threaten him," said Dyke to himself, as he went back;
+"he would only run away and take Tant with him, and then I should be ten
+times worse off than I am now.  I must go myself.  Yes, I could take two
+horses, and ride first one and then the other, and so set over the round
+faster.  I could do it in a third of the time."
+
+But he shook his head wearily as he glanced at where Emson lay.
+
+"I dare not leave him to them.  I should never see him again alive."
+
+It was quite plain: the Kaffirs had marked down the baas for dead, and
+unless watched, they would not trouble themselves to try to save him by
+moving a hand.
+
+Dyke shuddered, for if he were absent he felt the possibility of one of
+the strangers he had seen, helping them so as to share or rob.  No: he
+dared not go.
+
+But could he not have the wagon made comfortable, store it with
+necessaries, get Emson lifted in, and then drive the oxen himself?
+
+It took no consideration.  It would be madness, he felt, to attempt such
+a thing.  It would be fatal at once, he knew; and, besides, he dared not
+take the sick man on such a journey without being sure that he would be
+received at the house at the journey's end.
+
+No: that was impossible.
+
+Another thought.  It was evident that Jack was determined not to go back
+alone to Morgenstern's, but would it be possible to send a more faithful
+messenger--the dog?  He had read of dogs being sent to places with
+despatches attached to their collars.  Why should not Duke go?  He knew
+the way, and once made to understand--
+
+Dyke shook his head.  It was too much to expect.  The journey was too
+long.  How was the dog to be protected from wild beasts at night, and
+allowing that he could run the gauntlet of those dangers, how was the
+poor brute to be fed?
+
+"No, no, no," cried the boy passionately; "it is too much to think.  It
+is fate, and I must see Joe through it myself.  He is better, I am
+sure."
+
+There was every reason for thinking so, and nurturing the hope that his
+brother had taken the turn, Dyke determined to set to work and go on as
+if all was well--just as if Emson were about and seeing to things
+himself.
+
+"You know I wouldn't neglect you, old chap," he said affectionately, as
+he bent over the couch and gazed in the sunken features; "I shall be
+close by, and will keep on coming in."
+
+Then a thought struck him, and he called the watchful dog away and fed
+him, before sending him back to the bedside, and going out to examine
+the ostriches more closely.
+
+Dyke's heart sank as he visited pen after pen.  Either from neglect or
+disease, several of the birds had died, and were lying about the place,
+partly eaten by jackals; while of the young ones hatched from the nest
+of eggs brought home with such high hopes, not one was left.
+
+"Poor Joe!" sighed Dyke, as he looked round despondently, and thought of
+his brother's words, which, broken and incoherent as they were, told of
+the disappointment and bitterness which had followed the long, weary
+trial of his experiment.
+
+And now, with the poor fellow broken down and completely helpless, the
+miserable dead birds, the wretched look of those still living, and the
+general neglect, made Dyke feel ready to turn away in despair.
+
+But he set his teeth hard and went about with a fierce energy
+rearranging the birds in their pens, and generally working as if this
+were all a mere accident that only wanted putting straight, for
+everything to go on prosperously in the future.
+
+It was hard work, feeling, as Dyke did, that it was a hopeless task, and
+that a complete change--a thorough new beginning--must be made for there
+to be the slightest chance for success.  But he kept on, the task
+becoming quite exciting when the great birds turned restive or showed
+fight, and a disposition to go everywhere but where they were wanted.
+
+Then he fetched Jack, who came unwillingly, acting as if he believed
+some new scheme was about to be tried to send him off to the old
+trader's.  But he worked better when he found that he was only to drag
+away the remains of one or two dead birds, and to fetch water and do a
+little more cleaning.
+
+Dyke divided his time between seeing that the work was done, and going
+to and fro to his brother's couch, now feeling hopeful as he fancied
+that he was sleeping more easily.  At the second visit, too, his hopes
+grew more strong; but at the third they went down to zero, for to his
+horror the heat flush and violent chill returned with terrible delirium,
+and the boy began to blame himself for not doing something more about
+getting a doctor, for Emson seemed to be worse than he was at his
+return.
+
+By degrees, though, it dawned upon him that this might not be a sign of
+going back, only a peculiarity of malarial fever, in some forms of which
+he knew that the sufferer had regular daily fits, which lasted for a
+certain time and then passed away, leaving the patient exhausted, but
+better.
+
+This might be one of these attacks, he felt, and he sat watching and
+trying to give relief; but in vain, for the delirium increased, and the
+symptoms looked as bad as they could be, for a man to live.
+
+And now once more the utter helplessness of his position came upon Dyke,
+and he sat there listening to his brother's wild words, trying to fit
+them together and grasp his meaning, but in vain.  He bathed the burning
+head and applied the wet bandages, but they seemed to afford no relief
+whatever; and at last growing more despondent than ever, he felt that he
+could not bear it, and just at dusk he went outside the door to try to
+think, though really to get away for a few minutes from the terrible
+scene.
+
+Then his conscience smote him for what he told himself was an act of
+cowardice, and he hurried back to the bedside, to find that, short as
+had been his absence, it had been long enough for a great change to take
+place.
+
+In fact, the paroxysm had passed, and the poor fellow's brow was covered
+with a fine perspiration, his breathing easier, and he was evidently
+sinking into a restful sleep.
+
+Dyke stood watching and holding his brother's hand till he could
+thoroughly believe that this was the case, and then tottered out once
+more into the comparatively cool evening air, to find Jack or his wife,
+and tell them to bring something for him and the dog to eat, for he had
+seen nothing of either of them for many hours.
+
+He walked round to the back, but there was no fire smouldering, and no
+one in the narrow, yard-like place; so he went on to the shed in which
+the servants slept, and tapped at the rough door.
+
+But there was no answer, and upon looking in, expecting to see Jack
+lying there asleep, neither he nor his wife was visible.
+
+How was that?  Gone to fetch in fuel from where it was piled-up in a
+stack?  No: for there was plenty against the side of one of the sheds.
+
+What then--water?  Yes, that would be it.  Jack and Tanta Sal had gone
+together to the kopje for company's sake to fetch three or four buckets
+from the cool fresh spring, of whose use he had been so lavish during
+the past day.  They had gone evidently before it was quite dark; and,
+feeling hungry and exhausted now, he walked round to where the wagon
+stood, recalling that there was some dry cake left in the locker, and
+meaning to eat of this to relieve the painfully faint sensation.
+
+He climbed up into the wagon, and lifted the lid of the chest, but there
+was no mealie cake there; Jack or Tant must have taken it out.  So going
+back to the house where Emson was sleeping quietly, the boy dipped a
+pannikin into the bucket standing there, and drank thirstily before
+going outside again to watch for the Kaffir servants' return, feeling
+impatient now, and annoyed that they should have neglected him for so
+long.
+
+But there was no sign of their approach.  The night was coming on fast,
+and a faint star or two became visible, while the granite kopje rose up,
+softly rounded in the evening light, with a faint glow appearing from
+behind it, just as if the moon were beginning to rise there.
+
+He waited and waited till it was perfectly plain that the man could not
+be coming from fetching water, and, startled at this, he shouted, and
+then hurriedly looked about in the various buildings, but only to find
+them empty.
+
+Startled now, more than he cared to own to himself, Dyke ran back to the
+Kaffir's lodge, and looked in again.  There were no assegais leaning
+against the wall, nothing visible there whatever, and half-stunned by
+the thought which had come upon him with terrible violence, the boy went
+slowly back to the house, and sat down by where Duke was watching the
+sleeping man.
+
+"Alone! alone!" muttered Dyke with a groan; "they have gone and left us.
+Joe, Joe, old man, can't you speak to me?  We are forsaken.  Speak to
+me, for I cannot even think now.  What shall I do?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
+
+DYKE SETS HIS TEETH.
+
+No answer came from the couch where Emson lay exhausted by his last
+periodical paroxysm of fever.  The dog whined softly, and in his way
+unintentionally comforted his master by comforting himself.  That is to
+say, eager for human company, he crept closer, so that he could nestle
+his head against him, and be in touch.
+
+That touch was pleasant, and it made Dyke pass his arm round the dog's
+neck and draw him nearer, Duke responding with a whine of satisfaction,
+followed by a sound strongly resembling a grunt, as he settled himself
+down, just as the answer came to the lad's question, "What shall I do!"
+
+It was Nature who answered in her grand, wise way, and it was as if she
+said:
+
+"There is only one thing you can do, my poor, heartsore, weary one:
+sleep.  Rest, and gain strength for the fight to come."
+
+And in the silence and gathering darkness a calm, sweet insensibility to
+all his troubles stole over Dyke; he sank lower and lower till his head
+rested against the skins, and the coarse, sack-like pillow, formed of
+rough, unsaleable ostrich-feathers; and it was not until twelve hours
+after that he moved, or felt that there was a world in which he occupied
+a place, with stern work cut out for him to achieve.
+
+It was the touch of something cold upon his cheek that roused the
+sleeper, and that something cold was the dog's nose.
+
+Dyke did not start; he merely opened his eyes quietly, and looked up at
+those gazing at him, and, thoroughly comforted and rested, he smiled in
+the dog's face.
+
+"Get out, you old rascal," he said.  "You know you've no business to do
+that."
+
+Duke uttered a satisfied bark, and then began to caper about the room to
+show his delight at the solemn silence of the place being broken; but
+stopped directly, and made for the door in alarm, so sudden was the
+spring his master made to his feet--so wild and angry the cry the boy
+uttered as he bent over the bed.
+
+For full consciousness had returned like a flash, and as he cried, "I've
+been asleep!  I've been asleep!" he gazed down at his brother, horrified
+at the thought of what might have happened, and full of self-reproach
+for what he felt to have been his cruel neglect.
+
+But Emson was just as he had seen him last--even his hands were exactly
+as they had lain in the darkness the previous night--and when Dyke
+placed his hand upon the poor fellow's head, it felt fairly cool and
+moist.
+
+Dyke's spirits rose a little at this, but his self-reproach was as great
+as ever.
+
+"Oh!" he muttered angrily, "and I pretend to care for him, and promise
+him that I will not leave him, and go right off to sleep like that.
+Why, he might have died, and I never have moved.--Here, Duke!"
+
+The dog sprang to him with a bound, raised himself, and placed his paws
+upon his master's breast, threw back his head, opened his wide jaws,
+lolled out his tongue, and panted as if after a long run.
+
+"Here, look at me, old chap, and see what a lazy, thoughtless brute I
+am."
+
+But Duke only shook his head from side to side, and uttered a low whine,
+followed by a bark.
+
+"There: down!  Oh, how could I sleep like that?"
+
+But by degrees it was forced upon him that Emson had evidently passed a
+perfectly calm night, and looked certainly better, and he knew that it
+was utterly impossible to live without rest.
+
+He awoke, too, now to the fact that he was ravenously hungry, while the
+way in which the dog smelt about the place, snuffing at the tin in which
+his master's last mess of bread and milk had been served, and then ran
+whining to lap at the water at the bottom of a bucket, spoke plainly
+enough of the fact that he was suffering from the same complaint.
+
+At the same time, Dyke was trying to get a firm grasp of his position,
+and felt half annoyed with himself at the calm way in which he treated
+it.  For after that long, calm, restful sleep, things did not look half
+so bad; the depression of spirit had passed away, his thoughts were
+disposed to run cheerfully, and his tendency of feeling was toward
+making the best of things.
+
+"Well," he found himself saying, as he ran over his last night's
+discovery, "they're only savages!  What could one expect?  Let them go.
+And as to its being lonely, why old Robinson Crusoe was a hundred times
+worse off; somebody is sure to come along one of those days.  I don't
+care: old Joe's better--I'm sure he's better--and if Doctor Dyke don't
+pull him through, he's a Dutchman, and well christened Van."
+
+He had one good long look in his patient's face, felt his pulse, and
+then his heart beatings; and at last, as if addressing some one who had
+spoken depreciatingly of his condition:
+
+"Why, he is better, I'm sure.--Here, Duke: hungry?  Come along, old
+man."
+
+The dog shot out of the door, giving one deep-toned bark, and Dyke
+hurried to the wagon, opened a sack of meal, poured some into the bottom
+of a bucket, carried it back to the house, with the dog sniffing about
+him, his mouth watering.  Then adding some water to the meal, he beat it
+into a stiff paste, and placed about half on a plate, giving the bucket
+with the rest to the dog, which attacked it ravenously, and not
+hesitating about eating a few bits of the cold, sticky stuff himself.
+
+He gave a glance at Emson, and then went to the back, scraped a little
+fuel together, lit it, and blew it till it began to glow, hung the
+kettle over it for the water to boil, and then, closely followed by
+Duke, ran to feed the horses, just as a low, deep lowing warned him that
+the cows wanted attention.
+
+Fortunately only one was giving much milk, for Dyke's practice in that
+way had been very small: it was a work of necessity, though, to relieve
+the poor beasts, which followed him as he hurried back for a pail, one
+that soon after stood half full of warm, new milk, while the soft-eyed,
+patient beasts went afterwards calmly away to graze.
+
+"Here, who's going to starve?" cried Dyke aloud, with a laugh that was,
+however, not very mirthful; and then going back to the fire he kneaded
+up his cake, placed it upon a hot slab of stone, covered it with an
+earthen pot, swept the embers and fire over the whole, and left it to
+bake.
+
+His next proceeding was to get the kettle to boil and make some tea, a
+task necessitating another visit to the wagon stores he had brought from
+Morgenstern's, when, for the first time, he noticed that a little sack
+of meal was missing.
+
+At first he was doubtful, then he felt sure, and jumped at once to the
+reason.  Jack and Tanta Sal must have gone off to join the blacks he had
+seen watching, and not gone empty handed.
+
+Dyke's brow wrinkled up for a few moments.  Then his face cleared, for
+an antidote for the disease had suggested itself, one which he felt
+would come on in periodical fits.
+
+"Here, Duke," he cried.  "Up!"
+
+The dog sprang in at the back of the wagon, and looked inquiringly at
+him.
+
+"Lie down: watch!"
+
+Duke settled himself upon the wagon floor, laid his outstretched head
+upon his paws, and stayed there when his master left to go back to the
+house, fetch in the boiling kettle, make tea, and after sweetening half
+a basinful and adding a little milk, he took it to his patient's side,
+raised his head, held it to his lips, and all unconscious though he was,
+found him ready to drink with avidity, and then sink back with a weary
+sigh.
+
+"There, old chap," cried Dyke, ignoring the fact that he had not tried,
+"you couldn't have tipped off a lot of tea like that yesterday.  It's
+all right: going to get better fast, and give Master Jack such a licking
+as he never had before."
+
+Trying to believe this himself, he now thought of his own breakfast,
+fetched in the hot cake and a tin pannikin of milk, and sat down to this
+and some tea.
+
+The first mouthfuls felt as if they would choke him, but the sensation
+of distaste passed off, and he was soon eating ravenously, ending by
+taking Duke a tin of milk for his share, and a piece of the hot bread.
+
+That was a weary morning, what with his patient and the animals about
+the place.  But he had set his teeth hard, and feeling that he must
+depend fully upon himself and succeed, he took a sensible view of his
+proceedings, and did what he could to lighten his responsibility, so as
+to leave him plenty of time for nursing and attending to his invalid.
+
+The first thing was to do something about the horses and cattle; and,
+feeling that he could not do everything by himself, he at once let all
+loose to shift for themselves, hoping that they would keep about the
+little desert farm, and not stray away into danger.  Horses then and
+cattle were loosened, to go where they pleased, and the openings
+connecting the ostrich-pens were thrown open to give the great birds as
+much limit for feeding themselves as he could.  Then he fetched water in
+abundance for the house, and loaded and laid ready the three guns and
+the rifles, with plenty of cartridges by their sides, but more from a
+hope that the sight of his armament would have the effect of frightening
+Kaffirs away when seen, than from any thought of using them as lethal
+weapons, and destroying life.
+
+Then he was face to face with the difficulty about the wagon.  These
+stores ought not to be left where they were, and he felt that he was too
+much worn out to attempt to carry them into the rough-boarded room that
+served as store.  He was too much exhausted, and the rest of that day he
+felt belonged to his patient.
+
+But a thought struck him, and fetching up a yoke of the oxen which were
+browsing contentedly a half-mile away, Dyke hitched them on to the
+dissel-boom, and, after some difficulty, managed to get the wagon drawn
+close up to the fence, and within a few yards of the door.
+
+"Duke will be there, and I should hear any one who came," he said to
+himself, and once more set the oxen free to go lowing back to their poor
+pasture with the rest of the team, which he had had hard work to keep
+from following him at the first.
+
+And now, tired out with his exertions at a time when the hot sun was
+blazing on high, and beginning to feel a bit dispirited, he entered the
+house again, to be cast down as low as ever, for once more Emson was
+suffering terribly from the fit, which seemed to come on as nearly as
+could be at the same time daily.  Dyke knew that he ought to have been
+prepared for it, but he was not, for it again took him by surprise, and
+the medicine which he administered, and his brother took automatically,
+seemed to have no effect whatever.
+
+He bathed and applied evaporating bandages to the poor fellow's temples,
+but the fever had the mastery, and kept it for hours, while Dyke could
+at last do nothing but hold the burning hand in his, with despair coming
+over him, just as the gloom succeeded the setting of the sun.
+
+Then, just as the boy was thinking that no fit had been so long as this,
+and that Emson was growing far weaker, the heat and alternate shivering
+suddenly ceased, and with a deep sigh he dropped off to sleep.
+
+Dyke sat watching for a time, and then, finding that Emson was getting
+cooler and cooler, and the sleep apparently more natural and right, he
+began to think of his plans for the evening.  He was determined to keep
+awake this time, and to do this he felt that he must have company.  The
+Kaffirs were hardly likely to come by night, he felt, and so he would
+not leave the dog to watch, but going out, called him down out of the
+wagon, tied down the canvas curtains back and front, fed the dog well,
+and stood at the door waiting until the faithful beast had finished,
+watching the while.  Then once more he noticed the peculiar light at the
+back of the kopje, looking as if the moon were rising, though that could
+not be, for there was no moon visible till long after midnight.
+
+But Dyke was too weary to study a question of light or shadow, and as
+soon as Duke had finished he called the dog in, closed the door, did
+what he could to make poor Emson comfortable, and sat down to pass the
+night watching.
+
+But nature said again that he should pass it sleeping, and in a few
+minutes, after fighting hard against the sensation of intense
+drowsiness, he dropped off fast as on the previous night, but started
+into wakefulness in the intense darkness, and sat up listening to the
+low growling of the dog, and a terrible bellowing which came from the
+pens, where the cattle should be, if they had returned after their many
+hours' liberty.
+
+Returned they had for certain, and one of the great, placid beasts was
+evidently in a state of agony and fear, while a rushing sound of hoofs
+close to where the wagon stood, suggested that the horses and bullocks
+had taken flight.
+
+The reason was not very far off from the seeker, for all at once, just
+as the piteous bellowings were at their height, there came the terrific
+roaring of a lion, evidently close at hand, and this was answered by a
+deep growling by the cattle-pens, telling that one lion had struck down
+a bullock, and was being interrupted in his banquet by another
+approaching near.
+
+Dyke rose, and went to the corner of the room where the loaded rifles
+stood, then walked softly toward the door to stand peering out, but not
+a sign of any living creature was visible.  In fact, a lion could not
+have been seen a couple of yards away, but, all the same, the loud
+muttered growlings told plainly enough that both the fierce beasts were
+close at hand.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
+
+A BIT OF NATURE.
+
+There seems plenty of reason in supposing that the tremendously loud,
+full-throated roar of the lion at night is intended to scare the great
+brute's prey into betraying its whereabouts at times, at others to
+paralyse it with fright and render it easy of capture.  Much has been
+written about the fascinating power of the snake, but this fascination,
+from quiet observation, appears to be nothing more nor less than the
+paralysis caused by fear, and suffered by plenty of objects in the
+animal world.  One might begin with man himself, and the many instances
+where, in the face of a terrible danger, he becomes perfectly weak and
+helpless.  He is on a railway track, and a fast train is coming.  One
+spring, and he would be safe; but how often it happens that he never
+makes that spring.
+
+Take another instance.  There is a fire at some works.  It is spreading
+fast, and the cry arises, "Save the horses in the stables!"  Men rush
+and fling open the doors; the halters are cast loose, but too often the
+poor brutes will not stir even for blows: fascinated by the danger, they
+stay in the stable and are burned.
+
+Go into the woods on some pleasant summer day, in one of the pleasant
+sandy districts, where the sweet, lemony odour of the pine-trees floats
+through the sunny air, and the woodland slope is dotted with holes, and
+freshly scratched out patches of yellowish sand abound.  Sit down and
+don't move, and in a short time, quite unexpectedly, you will see
+rabbits seated in front of these holes.  You have not seen them come
+out, for they seem to arrive there instantaneously--first one or two,
+then several; and if there is neither movement nor noise, more and more
+will appear, to begin nibbling the grass at the edge of the wood, or
+playing about, racing after each other, almost as full of pranks as
+kittens.  Now and then one will raise itself upon its hind-legs like a
+dog begging, ears erect and quivering, now turned in one direction, now
+in another.  Then, all at once, _rap, rap_!--that sharp alarm stamp
+given by the foot--there is a wild race, and dozens of white cottony
+tails are seen disappearing at the mouths of holes, and in another
+instant not a rabbit is to be seen.
+
+What was it?  You listen, but all seems still.  You can hear the
+twittering of birds, perhaps the harsh call of a jay, or the laughing
+chatter of a magpie, but those familiar sounds would not have startled
+the rabbits; and if you are new to such woodland matters, you will
+conclude that some one of the nearest fur-coated fellows must have
+caught sight of you, called out danger, and sent the colony flying.  But
+if you are accustomed to the woods and the animal nature there, you will
+listen, and in a short time hear that which startled the little animals,
+the cry reaching their sensitive ears long before it penetrated your
+duller organs.
+
+There it is again--a fine-drawn, shrill, piercing cry as of some animal
+in trouble.  This is repeated at intervals till it comes nearer and
+nearer, and develops into a querulous, frightened scream uttered by some
+little creature in fear or pain.
+
+Both, say; for in another moment a fine grey rabbit comes into sight
+running slowly, and looking in nowise distressed by over-exertion as it
+passes on in front of where you sit, going in and out among the tree
+trunks and ferns, paying no heed to the many burrows, each of which
+would make a harbour of refuge and perhaps save its life, though that is
+very doubtful.  It might, too, you think, save itself by rushing off at
+full speed, as it would if it caught sight of you, or a dog chased it.
+But no, it goes on running slowly, uttering at times its terrified
+scream, which you hear again and again long after the rabbit has
+disappeared--a cry which seems to say: "It's all over; I am marked down,
+and though I keep on running, I can never get away.  It will catch me
+soon."
+
+And it is so, for poor bunny is doomed.  He is being hunted down by a
+remorseless enemy who is on his scent, and now comes into sight in turn,
+running in a leisurely way exactly along the track taken by the rabbit,
+though this is out of sight.  There seems to be no hurry on the part of
+the little, slight, snaky-looking, browny-grey animal, with its piercing
+eyes, rounded ears, creamy-white breast, and black-tipped tail.
+
+The weasel--for that it is--does not seem above an eighth of the size of
+the rabbit, a kick from whose powerful hind-leg could send it flying
+disabled for far enough.  But the little, keen, perky-looking creature
+knows that this will not be its fate, and comes loping along upon its
+leisurely hunt, pausing now and then to look sharply around for danger,
+and then gliding in and out among the undergrowth, leaping over
+prostrate pieces of branch, and passing on in front just as the rabbit
+did a few minutes before, and then disappearing among the ferns; its
+keen-scented nostrils telling it plainly enough the direction in which
+the rabbit has gone, though the screams might have deceived the ear.
+
+Not long since I was witness of an instance of so-called fascination in
+the homely cases of cat and mouse.  Not the ordinary domestic mouse, for
+the little animal was one of the large, full-eyed, long-tailed garden
+mice, and my attention was directed to it by seeing the cat making what
+sporting people call "a point" at something.  Puss was standing
+motionless, watching intently, ready to spring at any moment, and upon
+looking to see what took her attention, there at the foot of an old
+tree-stump stood the very large mouse, not three feet from its enemy,
+and so paralysed or fascinated by fear, that it paid no heed to my
+approaching so closely that I could have picked it up.  It was perfectly
+unable to stir till I gave puss a cuff and sent her flying without her
+natural prey, when the mouse darted out of sight.
+
+The roaring of the lions seemed to exercise this fascination even upon
+Dyke, who made no movement to fire, while he could hear the other
+bullocks, evidently huddling together in mortal fear--a fear which
+attacked him now, as the bellowings of the unfortunate bullock became
+more agonised, then grew fainter, and died off in a piteous sigh.
+
+Then, and then only, did Dyke seem to start back into the full
+possession of his faculties; and raising the gun, he stood listening, so
+as to judge as nearly as possible whereabouts to fire.
+
+A sharp crack, as of a bone breaking, told him pretty nearly where the
+spot must be, not fifty yards from where he stood; and, taking a guess
+aim--for he could not see the sight at the end of the barrel--he was
+about to draw trigger, when, at almost one and the same moment, Duke
+uttered a frightened snarl: there was a rush, and the boy fired now at
+random, fully aware of the fact that a lion must have crept up within a
+few yards, and been about to spring either at him or the dog, when the
+fierce, snarling growls made it alter its intention.
+
+They say that discretion is the better part of valour, and it would be
+hard to set Dyke's movement in retreat down to cowardice, especially
+when it is considered that he was almost blind in the darkness, while
+his enemy was provided by nature with optics which were at their best in
+the gloom of night.
+
+Dyke moved back into the house, where, partly sheltered, and with the
+dog close to his feet, watchful as he was himself, and ready to give
+warning of danger, he waited, listening for the next sound.
+
+This was long in coming, for the lions seemed to have been scared away
+by the report of the piece--it was too much to believe that the beast
+which had charged was hit--but at last _crick, crack_, and a tearing
+noise came from out of the darkness toward the stables, and taking
+another guess aim, the boy fired and listened intently as he reloaded
+his piece.
+
+Once more there was silence till a distant roar was heard, and Dyke felt
+hopeful that he had scared away his enemy; but hardly had he thought
+that, when the cracking and tearing noise arose once more, telling
+plainly enough that if the beast had been scared away, it had only been
+for a short distance, and it had now returned to feed.
+
+Dyke's piece rang out again, as he fired in the direction of the sounds,
+all feeling of dread now being carried away by the excitement, and a
+sense of rage that, in all probability, one of the best draught oxen had
+been pulled down and was being eaten only a few yards from where he
+stood.
+
+Crack went a bone once more, as the noise of the piece died out, showing
+that the lion had ceased to pay attention to the report.
+
+And now Dyke fired again, and backed right into the house, startled by
+the result, for this time his bullet had evidently told--the lion
+uttering a savage, snarling roar, which was followed by a crash, as if
+caused by the monster leaping against one of the fences in an effort to
+escape.
+
+Then once more all was still.  The tearing and rending had ceased, and
+though the boy listened patiently for quite an hour, no animal returned
+to the savage banquet.
+
+At last, tired out, Dyke closed and secured the door, to sit down and
+wait for day, no disposition to sleep troubling him through the rest of
+the night.  Once or twice he struck a match to hold it near his
+brother's face, but only to find him lying sleeping peacefully, the
+reports of the gun having had no effect whatever; while as the light
+flashed up, Dyke caught a glimpse of the dog crouching at the door, with
+head low, watching and listening for the approach of a foe.
+
+But no enemy came, and at the first flush of dawn Dyke opened the door
+cautiously, to look out and see one of the cows, all torn and bloody,
+lying half-a-dozen yards from its shed; and just within the first fence,
+where a gap had been broken through, crouched a full-grown lioness,
+apparently gathering itself up for a spring.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
+
+DAYLIGHT.
+
+Dyke's first movement was back into the house, and to put up the bar
+across the closed door, his heart beating violently; his next, to watch
+the little window, and stand there with his double gun, ready to send a
+couple of shots at the brute's muzzle, when it tried to get in, as he
+felt sure that it would.
+
+A minute--two minutes--passed, but he heard nothing, though he did not
+feel surprised at this, for he knew from experience the soft velvety way
+in which the animals would creep up after their prey.  At any moment he
+felt that the great, cat-like head and paws would appear at the opening,
+which would just be big enough for creeping through; and unless his two
+shots killed or wounded desperately, he knew that his fate was sealed.
+
+"I must be firm, and not nervous, or I shall miss," he said to himself;
+but how was he to be firm when gazing wildly at that narrow opening,
+momentarily expecting to feel the puff of hot breath from the savage
+brute's jaws, and be face to face with the terrible danger?
+
+He knew he must be firm, and not lose his nerve; but how could he master
+his senses at a time when he was watching that grey opening, with his
+eyes beginning to swim, and the cold perspiration gathering upon his
+forehead?
+
+All at once there was a sound behind him, and he swung round, fully
+believing that the stealthy creature had bounded on to the roof, and was
+about to try to obtain entrance down through the big, low, granite-built
+chimney, which had been made for cooking purposes, but never used.
+
+"You wretch! how you startled me," muttered Dyke, as he saw that the dog
+had caused his alarm by making a bound toward the door, with the thick
+hair about its neck standing up in a bristling way, as it snuffled about
+the bottom of the entry, and then uttered a low whine, and looked up at
+its master, who felt that the lioness must be there.
+
+Dyke turned to the window again, annoyed with his want of firmness,
+feeling now that if the enemy had tried to take him in the rear like
+that, he must have heard the bound up on to the iron roof.
+
+Resuming his watchful position by the window, he waited again, and now
+as he stood, with every nerve on the strain, he began to feel that the
+inaction and suspense were more painful than trying to attack; so taking
+a long, deep breath, he advanced closer to the window, with finger on
+trigger, ready to fire on the instant.
+
+Closer and closer, and now resting the barrels on the sill, gradually
+protruding the gun muzzle a little, till he could look out between the
+open wooden bars, unglazed for the sake of coolness, a small shutter
+standing against the side below.
+
+It was a cautious piece of reconnoitring, but from his position he could
+see very little.  There was the kopje, and the sky beginning to flame
+golden; but there was plenty of room for the lioness to be crouching
+beneath the window unseen, or on either side close up to the wall, where
+he could not get a view without thrusting out head and shoulders, and so
+placing himself in position for the enemy to make one lightning-like dab
+at him with the claw-armed paw, and drag him out as a cat would a mouse.
+
+Dyke drew back a little, and waited, listening to the neighing of one of
+the horses, which started the remaining cows into a long, protesting
+bellow, as the poor beasts asked to be relieved of their load of milk.
+
+Then the boy's heart started beating again violently, for he felt that
+the moment for action was fast approaching, if not at hand.  He started
+round listening, and as he did, he saw that the place was fairly lit up
+now, and Emson's face stood out clearly as he lay peacefully asleep.
+
+Duke snuffled at the crack at the bottom of the door, and uttered an
+uneasy growl; while, plainly enough to be heard now, there was a
+stealthy step, passing along beside the building, and making for the
+back.
+
+"Safe there!" thought Dyke; and the dog uttered his uneasy growl, while
+his master listened intently for the creature's return.
+
+And now that the peril seemed to be so close, Dyke's nerve grew firmer,
+and ready to fire as soon as the lioness came round the other way, as he
+felt sure she would, he encouraged himself with the thought that if he
+were only steady, he could not miss.
+
+He was not long kept waiting.  There was the stealthy, soft step again,
+and the sound of the animal's side brushing lightly against the
+corrugated iron wall.  But, to the overturning of the boy's
+expectations, the sounds were not continued round from the back toward
+the window, but in the same direction as that in which they had
+previously been heard.
+
+Duke uttered a low, muttering growl, and glanced round at his master,
+thrusting his nose again to the bottom of the door, where the stealthy
+pace ceased, and there was the sound as of the beast passing its muzzle
+over the door.
+
+The dog uttered a loud bark, and Dyke presented the muzzle of the gun,
+half prepared to fire through the boards, but raised it, with his face
+wrinkling up from a mingling of annoyance, surprise, and amusement, for
+in answer to the dog's sharp bark, came:
+
+"Ah-ah-ah-ah!  Wanter bucket: milk."
+
+"Tant!" cried Dyke, laying his hand on the bar.  "Mind! there is a
+lion," he said, as he opened the door cautiously.
+
+"Eh?  Eat a lot.  Eat cow."
+
+The woman, who seemed to have suddenly remembered a great deal of
+English, smiled blandly, and took hold of the dog's muzzle, as Duke
+raised himself on his hind-legs and placed his paws on her chest.
+
+"Did you see the lion?"
+
+"Yes; no hurt," said Tanta pleasantly.  "Too much eat.  Baas Joe die?"
+
+"No!" cried Dyke, angrily, annoyed with the woman, and against himself
+for his unnecessary fear.  "But what do you want?"
+
+"Milk cow--say moo-ooo!"
+
+She produced a capital imitation of the animal's lowing, and laughed
+merrily as it was answered from the shed.
+
+"Only one cow.  Lion eat much."
+
+"Oh yes, I know all about that," cried Dyke; "but I thought you had
+gone."
+
+"Jack take away.  No top.  Jack tief."
+
+"Yes, I know that; but do you mean Jack made you go away?"
+
+The woman nodded.
+
+"No top.  Come back along, baas.  Make fire, make cake, make milk."
+
+"Make yourself useful, eh?" cried Dyke, to whom the woman's presence was
+a wonderful relief.
+
+"Come top baas."
+
+Tanta Sal picked up one of the buckets standing just inside the door,
+and nodded as she turned to go.
+
+"Look here!" cried Dyke; "you can stay, but I'm not going to have Jack
+back."
+
+"No! no!" cried the woman fiercely; and banging down the bucket, she
+went through a pantomime, in which she took Dyke's hand and placed it
+upon the back of her woolly head, so that he might feel an enormous lump
+in one place, a cut in another; and then with wondrous activity went
+through a scene in which she appeared to have a struggle with some
+personage, and ended by getting whoever it was down, kneeling upon his
+chest, and punching his head in the most furious way.
+
+"Jack tief!" she cried, as she rose panting, and took up the pail.
+
+"Yes, I understand," said Dyke; "but you must not go near the cow.  That
+lioness is there."
+
+The woman laughed.
+
+"Baas shoot gun," she said.
+
+Dyke carefully took out and examined the cartridges in his piece,
+replaced them, and went forth with the woman, the dog bounding before
+them, but only to be ordered to heel, growling ominously, as they came
+in sight of the lioness, crouching in precisely the same position, and
+beginning now fiercely to show her teeth.  Then, as Dyke presented his
+piece, she made an effort to rise, but sank down again, and dragged
+herself slowly toward them, snarling savagely.
+
+And now Dyke saw what was wrong.  His bullet, which he had fired in the
+night, had taken terrible effect.  The brute had made one bound after
+being struck, and crashed through the fence, to lie afterwards
+completely paralysed in the hind-quarters, so that a carefully-directed
+shot now quite ended her mischievous career, for she uttered one furious
+snarl, clawing a little with her forepaws, and then rolled over dead,
+close to the unfortunate cow she had dragged down and torn in the most
+horrible way.
+
+Tanta ran up and kicked the dead lioness, and then burst out with a
+torrent of evidently insulting language in her own tongue; after which
+she went, as if nothing had happened, to where the remaining cow stood
+lowing impatiently, and proceeded to milk her in the coolest way.
+
+Dyke examined the dead beast, and thought he should like the skin, which
+was in beautiful condition; but he had plenty of other things to think
+of, and hurried back to the house, followed by Duke, to see how his
+brother was.
+
+There was no change: Emson was sleeping; and, reloading his piece, the
+boy went out once more to see to the ostriches, which seemed in a sorry
+condition, and as he fed them, he felt as if he would like to set the
+melancholy-looking creatures free.
+
+"But Joe wouldn't like it when he gets better," thought Dyke; and at
+last he returned to the house to find a pail half full of milk standing
+at the door, while the smoke rising from behind the building showed that
+Tanta had lit a fire.
+
+The boy's spirits rose, for the misery and solitude of his position did
+not seem so bad now, and on walking round to the front of the shed-like
+lodge, he found the woman ready to look up laughingly, as she kneaded up
+some meal for a cake.
+
+"Where did you get that?" cried Dyke.
+
+"Wagon," said the woman promptly.  "Jack get mealie wagon.  Jack tief.
+Tanta Sal get mealie for baas."
+
+"Yes, that's right; but you should ask me.  But, look here, Tant, Jack
+shan't come here.  You understand?"
+
+"Jack tief," cried the woman angrily, and jumping up from her knees she
+ran into the lodge, and came back with an old wagon wheel spoke in her
+floury hands, flourished it about, and made some fierce blows.
+
+"Dat for Jack," she said, laughing, nodding, and then putting the stout
+cudgel back again, and returning to go on preparing the cake for
+breakfast, the kettle being already hanging in its place.
+
+Dyke nodded and went away, and in an hour's time he was seated at a meal
+at which there was hot bread and milk, fried bacon and eggs, and a
+glorious feeling of hope in his breast; for poor Emson, as he lay there,
+had eaten and drunk all that was given him, and was sleeping once more.
+
+"Bother the old ostriches!" cried Dyke, as he looked down eagerly at the
+sick man.  "We can soon get some more, or do something else.  We shan't
+starve.  You're mending fast, Joe, or you couldn't have eaten like that;
+and if you get well, what does it matter about anything else?  Only you
+might look at a fellow as if you knew him, and just say a few words."
+
+Emson made no sign; but his brother was in the best of spirits, and
+found himself whistling while he was feeding the ostriches, starting up,
+though, in alarm as a shadow fell upon the ground beside him.
+
+But it was only Tanta Sal, who looked at him, smiling the while.
+
+"Jack tief," she said; "teal mealie."
+
+"Yes, I know," cried Dyke, nodding.
+
+"Jack tief," said Tanta again.  "Kill, hit stritch."
+
+"What!" cried Dyke.
+
+"Tant feed.  Jack knock kopf."
+
+"What!  Jack knock the young ostriches on the head?"
+
+"Ooomps!" grunted the woman, and picking up a stone, she took hold of
+the neck of an imaginary young ostrich, and gave it a thump on the head
+with the stone, then looked up at Dyke and laughed.
+
+"The beast!" he cried indignantly.
+
+"Ooomps!  Jack tief."
+
+Tanta looked sharply round, then ran to where some ostrich bones lay,
+picked clean by the ants, and stooping down, took something from the
+ground, and ran back to hand Dyke the skull of a young bird, pointing
+with one black finger at a dint in the bone.
+
+"Jack," she said laconically--"Jack no want stritch."
+
+"No wonder our young birds didn't live," thought Dyke.  Then to the
+woman, as he pointed to the skull: "Find another one!"
+
+Tanta nodded, showed her white teeth, ran off, and returned in a few
+minutes with two, Dyke having in the meantime found a skull with the
+same mark upon it, the bone dinted in as if by a round stone.
+
+Both of those the woman brought were in the same condition, and she
+picked up a good-sized pebble and tapped it against the depression,
+showing that the injury must have been done in that way.
+
+"Yes, that's it, sure enough," said Dyke thoughtfully; "and we knew no
+better, but fancied that it was disease."
+
+He looked glum and disappointed for a few moments, and then brightened
+as he took the gun from where he had stood it against a fence.
+
+"Look," he said, tapping it.  "If Jack comes, I'll shoot;" and he added
+to himself: "I will too.  I'll pepper him with the smallest shot I've
+got."
+
+"Yes; ooomps," said the woman, nodding her head approvingly; "Jack say
+Baas Joe die.  Have all mealie, all cow, all bull-bull, all everyting.--
+Baas Joe not go die?"
+
+"No."
+
+"No," assented the woman, smiling.  "Tanta top.  Tant don't want um any
+more.  Tief.  Shoot Jack.  No kill."
+
+"Oh no!  I won't kill him; but don't let him come here again."
+
+Dyke went back to the house in the highest of spirits.
+
+"It's all right," he said to himself.  "We know now why the ostriches
+didn't get on.  Nice sort of disease that.  Oh!  I do wish I had caught
+the nigger at it.  But never mind, Joe's getting on; and as soon as I
+can leave him, I'll hunt out some more nests, and we'll begin all over
+again, and--"
+
+The boy stopped just inside the door, trembling, for as he appeared, the
+very ghost of a voice whispered feebly:
+
+"That you, little un?  How long you have been."  The next moment Dyke
+was on his knees by the rough couch, holding one of the thin hands in
+his and trying to speak; but it was as if something had seized him by
+the throat, for not a word would come.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
+
+BLACK SHADOWS.
+
+"What has been the matter, young un?" piped Emson feebly.  "I say, don't
+look like that.  Have I had a fall from my horse?  I can't lift my
+hand."
+
+Dyke told him at last as he clung to that hand, and Emson's face grew
+more and more troubled.
+
+"Don't," he whispered excitedly--"don't stop.  You--you may catch--the
+fever--too."
+
+"What!" cried Dyke, with a forced laugh, "me catch the fever!  Well, who
+cares?  I don't.  Bother!  Who's going to catch it, old chap?  Why, I
+should have caught it a hundred times before now."
+
+"You--you've been--nursing me?"
+
+"I've been here, but it hasn't been much of nursing," cried Dyke,
+laughing in a half-choking way, as his breast swelled with joy.  "I've
+fed you with a spoon and washed your face.  Oh Joe, old man, you've been
+just like a big, stupid old baby."
+
+"And have I been ill long?"
+
+"Yes, ever so long.  I was a terrible while before I got back, because
+the little river out yonder was flooded, and when I did come, I--I--I--
+oh Joe, old chap, I do feel so happy once more."
+
+It was a wise addition to his speech, for Dyke never looked much more
+miserable in his life; but there was enough in his aspect to make Emson
+smile faintly, and then close his eyes.
+
+That brought back Dyke to the responsibilities of his position, and he
+sprang up.
+
+"Here!  I've been letting you talk too much while you're so weak," he
+cried excitedly.
+
+Emson's lips parted to speak, but his brother laid a hand upon them.
+
+"No," he said, "you mustn't: you'll have to get stronger first; and I've
+got to feed you up, old chap."
+
+Just at that moment a dark shadow crossed the doorway, and Tanta Sal's
+black face appeared looking in.
+
+"Baas no go die," she said.  "Jack tief.  Baas Joe go get well.  Look!"
+
+She held out a rough basket, in which were half-a-dozen new-laid eggs.
+
+"Jack find eggs," said Tanta.  "Do so."
+
+She took one egg, gave it a tap, deftly broke the shell in two halves,
+let the white run out, and swallowed the yolk like an oyster.
+
+"Here, hold hard!" cried Dyke angrily.  "You mustn't do that."
+
+"No.  Tant mussen.  Jack find eggs, do so.  Jack tief."
+
+"Well, I'm glad I know where the eggs went," said Dyke, taking the
+remainder.  "I thought our hens ought to lay some.  But why didn't you
+tell us before?"
+
+"Jack say killum," replied the woman.  "Baas Joe hungry?"
+
+"Not yet; I'll see to him," said Dyke, dismissing the woman, and he
+turned now to his brother with a strange dread creeping over him, for
+Emson lay back with his eyes closed, looking utterly exhausted, and as
+if the awakening from the long stage of delirium were only the
+flickering of the light of life in its socket.  But by degrees Dyke
+realised that it was the fever that had burned out, and Emson had only
+fallen asleep--a restfully, calm sleep, from which he did not awaken
+till toward evening, when Dyke shivered with apprehension of the
+terrible attack that would come on about that time.
+
+But there was no attack, and after talking feebly in a whisper, the
+invalid partook of a little food, then lay watching the glow in the
+west, and soon went off to sleep again as calmly as an infant.  "It's
+all right," cried Dyke excitedly; "all I ought to do now is to keep on
+feeding him up with good, strengthening things, given a little at a
+time.  I believe I was cut out for a doctor after all."
+
+He stood watching the sleeper for a few minutes, thinking of how
+perfectly helpless the strong man had become, and then a thought
+occurred to him.  In an hour's time the guinea-fowl would be coming to
+roost in the trees beyond the kopje, and a couple of these stewed down
+by Tanta Sal would make a delicious kind of broth, the very thing for
+the sick man.  Going out, he called to the Kaffir woman, and sent her to
+watch over Emson; while, gun in hand, he prepared to start for the
+kopje, so as to get into a good hiding-place before the guinea-fowl came
+home to roost.
+
+His first act was to whistle for Duke, but the dog did not appear, and
+this set the lad wondering, for he remembered now that he had not seen
+it for hours.
+
+But he was too intent upon the task he had in hand to think more of the
+dog just then, and hurried on past the kopje, and into the patch of
+forest growth which nourished consequent upon the springs which trickled
+from the granite blocks that sheltered the spring and fertilised a few
+dozen acres of land, before sinking right down among the sand and dying
+away.
+
+Dyke felt as if a complete change had come over his life during the past
+few hours.  The golden light of evening had transformed the desert
+veldt, and everything looked glorious, while his spirits rose so, that
+had he not wanted the birds, he would have burst out shouting and
+singing in the exuberance of his joy.
+
+"Who says Kopfontein isn't a beautiful place?" he said softly.  "I did,
+and didn't know any better.  Why, it's lovely, and Joe and I will do
+well yet."
+
+A cloud came over his brow as he made for the patch of trees.  His
+memory was busy, and he began to recall the past--his discontent, and
+how trying he must have been to his big, amiable, patient brother.
+
+"But never again!" he said to himself.  "I didn't know any better then:
+I do now;" and, forgetting the dangers and troubles, or setting them
+aside as something of no consequence at all, Dyke passed on, and at last
+entered the trees just as there was a glint of something bright from
+which the sunset rays flashed.
+
+But Dyke did not see the glint, neither did he hear the bushes being
+parted as something glided through the low growth, and another
+something, and then another, and again another--four dark, shadowy
+figures, which glided softly away, and then seemed to drop down flat and
+remain silent, as if watching.
+
+Dyke saw nothing and thought of nothing now but the broth for his
+invalid, but picking out a good hiding-place, he cocked his piece and
+waited for the birds; while at the _click, click_ of the gun-locks,
+something bright was raised about fifty yards from where he was hidden,
+and the bright thing quivered above the bushes for a few moments before
+it disappeared again.
+
+That bright object, which was gilded by the sun's rays now flashing
+horizontally through the trees, was the head of an assegai, sharp and
+cruelly dangerous; but Dyke's eyes were gazing straight away, over the
+desert veldt, while he felt as if he should like to whistle.
+
+At last there was a distant metallic clangour; then came the rushing of
+wings, the alighting of a noisy flock of birds which began to cry "_Come
+back!  Come back!  Come back_!" and Dyke's gun spoke out twice, bringing
+down twice as many birds.
+
+"Now, if I had old Duke here, he might have retrieved those for me,"
+thought the boy, rising to take a step or two toward the spot where his
+birds had fallen, the rest of the flock having departed with a wild
+outcry, and as he moved, four assegais were raised into a horizontal
+position.  But, taught caution by the wild life he had been accustomed
+to, he stopped to recharge his gun.
+
+Before he had quite finished, there was a loud barking at a little
+distance.
+
+"Why, there he is, tracking me out," cried Dyke; and, whistling sharply,
+the barking came again more loudly, a shout bringing Duke to his side,
+while, as soon as the dog understood what was wanted, he darted off
+after the fallen birds, bringing in two directly from close to where the
+assegais had been poised.
+
+"Good dog!  Two more!  Seek!" cried Dyke.  "Off with you!"
+
+The dog bounded away again, and Dyke stood whistling softly to himself
+as he examined his prizes, and admired their clean-looking, speckled
+plumage.
+
+Duke was back directly, gave up the birds, coughed his teeth clear of
+fluffy feathers, and then turned and stood looking in the direction from
+whence he had fetched the guinea-fowls.
+
+"Oh yes," said his master, "there'll be plenty more soon, but we've got
+enough; so come along."
+
+Dyke shouldered his gun, carried the speckled birds in a bunch by their
+legs, and walked away toward the edge of the forest patch, the dog
+looking back from time to time, and barking uneasily.  But the master
+could not read the dog's warning; he attributed it to the guinea-fowl
+coming to roost, though black-faced lurkers, armed with assegais, were
+on the dog's trail till they were safely out of the forest, at whose
+edge the four Kaffirs paused to watch, while Dyke went on toward home.
+
+And now the dog forgot that which he had seen in the wood.  The open
+veldt, with the kopje on their left, made him recall something else, and
+he began barking and trying to lead his master away beyond the
+ostrich-pens, Dyke understanding him well enough; but with his game in
+hand, and the purpose for which it was intended in mind, for a long time
+he refused to go.
+
+At last, though, he yielded to the dog's importunity, feeling sure that
+a portion of their stock must be in trouble, and that Duke had been
+watching it for some time past, till he heard the reports of the gun.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
+
+DUKE'S FIND.
+
+Dyke had not far to go--the dog running on and looking back from time to
+time to see if it was followed, and then going on again.  "He has found
+a snake, perhaps," thought Dyke, as he looked in every direction, but
+could see no sign of the bullocks.  Duke went on.
+
+"Here!  I want to get back with these birds, old fellow," cried Dyke at
+last.  "Come along back."
+
+But the dog stood fast, and began to bark; then plunged in amongst some
+milk-bush, and barked louder than ever.
+
+"Well, I must see what he has found," thought Dyke, and just as it was
+getting dark, he ran on the hundred yards which separated him from the
+dog, and found him in a state of great excitement.
+
+"Now then, stupid, what is it?" cried Dyke.  "I shan't go any farther,
+mind.--Why, hullo! old chap, what have you got?  Why, they're lion
+cubs!"
+
+Sure enough they were; a pair of big, chubby, whimpering cubs, that in
+their heavy way resembled puppies more than creatures of the cat family.
+
+"Here, come away," cried Dyke, after kneeling down to examine the
+stupid-looking, tawny things, "We shall make the mother feel as fierce
+as can be, and there'll be no mercy for us then, old chap.  But how in
+the world did they come to be here?  Their mother must be prowling about
+the place, and--Oh, I see," he cried, as the light came.  "It was their
+mother I shot, and the poor little creatures are starving.  It would be
+a mercy to kill them."
+
+But the cubs whimpered and whined, and seemed so amiable, that Dyke felt
+as if he could not be merciful in that way.
+
+"Seems stupid," he muttered, "but I can't go murdering things without
+there's a good reason for it."
+
+Slinging his gun over his back, he took a piece of leathern thong from
+his pocket and tied the legs of his birds together, noticing that, as he
+did so, Duke was poking the young lions about with his nose, and the fat
+little creatures, which were about a third of his size, were snuggling
+up to him for comfort, whining like puppies the while.
+
+"Here, Duke!" he cried; "carry."
+
+He slung the birds on either side of the dog's neck, and then stooping
+down, picked up the fat, heavy cubs, tucked one under each arm, where
+they nestled to him, and then started for home.
+
+"Nice position for me if I'm wrong," he muttered.  "Suppose their mother
+isn't dead, and she finds me stealing her young ones.  Ugh!"
+
+But he was not wrong, and soon after entered the house with his prizes,
+to find Emson awake and watching him; while Tanta Sal crouched on the
+floor, gazing at the lamp which she had lit and seemed to admire
+intensely.
+
+"How are you?" was Dyke's first question, and on being assured in a
+faint echo of a voice that his brother was better, he handed two of the
+birds to the woman to take and stew down at once.
+
+"Take lion's babies too?" she said, shaking her head severely.  "Not
+good eat."
+
+"Who wants to eat them?" said Dyke.  "No: I'm going to keep them.  Come,
+make haste.  I want to see those birds cooking into soup."
+
+"Soup?  Ooomps.  Tant know make tea--coffee--dinner."
+
+"No, no; soup."
+
+"Ooomps; make bird tea, coffee?  Baas Joe drink in spoon."
+
+"Yes, that's right; you understand," cried Dyke, and the woman hurried
+out with the birds, the dog following her, his instinct teaching him
+that there would be the heads and possibly other odds and ends to fall
+to his share.  But before going, he went and poked at the two cubs and
+uttered a low bark.
+
+"What do you think of these, Joe?" said Dyke, picking up his prizes, and
+placing them on the bed.
+
+"Dangerous, little un," said Emson feebly.  "The mother will scent them
+out."
+
+"No: I feel sure it was their mother I shot last night.  She lies out
+yonder where Tant and I dragged her."
+
+"Ah!" said Emson softly, "it was her skin Tant brought in to show me.
+She stripped it off to-night."
+
+"She did?  Bravo! well done, Tant!  But look here, Joe: couldn't I bring
+these cubs up?"
+
+"Yes, for a time; but they would grow dangerous.  Try."
+
+That night, after finding very little difficulty in getting the cubs to
+suck a couple of pieces of rag soaked in milk, Dyke dropped asleep, to
+dream that the lioness had come to life again, and was waiting at the
+door for her cubs; but it proved to be only Tanta Sal once more, just at
+daybreak, with a tin of the bird soup, which she had set to stew
+overnight, and woke up early to get ready for the baas.  Of this Emson
+partook with avidity as soon as he woke, his brother laughing merrily as
+he fed him with a wooden spoon, while Tant grinned with delight.
+
+"Jack say Baas Joe go die," she cried, clapping her legs with her hands.
+"Jack tief."
+
+Dyke endorsed the words that morning when he visited the still unladen
+wagon, for a bag of sugar and some more meal had disappeared.
+
+He stood rubbing his ear viciously.
+
+"It's my fault for not taking the things indoors," he said in a vexed
+tone of voice; "but I can't do everything, and feeding those cubs last
+night made me forget to set Duke to watch."
+
+Then a thought struck him, and he put his head outside the tilt and
+shouted for Tant, who came running up, and at once climbed into the
+wagon.
+
+"Did you fetch some mealies from here last night?" asked Dyke.
+
+"No: Jack," cried the woman excitedly--"Jack tief."
+
+"Yes; I thought so," said Dyke thoughtfully.  "There, that will do;" and
+making up his mind to watch that night, he went back to the house, had a
+few words with his brother, and then went round to see that all was
+right, coming back to breakfast after Tanta had shown him the lioness's
+skin pegged out to dry.
+
+Dyke watched that night, but in vain; Duke watched the next night also
+in vain, for there had been too much to do for the wagon to be emptied
+and the stores brought in.
+
+For Emson required, in his weak state, an enormous deal of attention,
+which, however, was a delight to his brother, who had the satisfaction
+day by day of seeing him grow slightly better; while the Kaffir woman
+was indefatigable, and never seemed to sleep, Dyke's difficulty being to
+keep her from making the patient travel in a retrograde path by giving
+him too much to eat.
+
+"Baas Joe muss plenty meat, tea, coffee," she said.  "No eat, Baas Joe
+die."
+
+Hence Dyke had hard work to keep the larder supplied.  Fortunately,
+however, the guinea-fowls' roosting place proved to be almost
+inexhaustible, and twice over a little buck fell to the boy's gun.
+
+Then there was an ample supply of milk, some eggs, and dried meat to
+stew down, so that the patient did not fare so badly, as his returning
+strength showed.
+
+But progress with the ostrich-farm was at a standstill, and Dyke used to
+look at the great stilt-stalking birds with a sorrowful air, and wish
+they were all running wild.
+
+"But you are getting better fast, Joe," he said one evening as he sat by
+the couch.
+
+"Getting better slowly, not fast, little un," replied Emson sadly.
+"Heaven knows how I pray for strength, so as to relieve you, boy."
+
+"Who wants to be relieved?" cried Dyke roughly.  "All I mind is not
+getting on better with the work, because now I have not Jack to help.  I
+get on so slowly."
+
+"I know, Dyke," said Emson sadly, as he lay there propped up on his bed.
+
+"Hullo!  What's the matter?  What have I done?"
+
+"Nothing but what is patient and persevering."
+
+"Oh, no! don't say that," cried the boy.  "I've always been a
+discontented grumbler ever since I've been here, Joe.  But, I say, don't
+call me Dyke.  It sounds as if you were getting formal with me, and as
+if we were not as we used to be before you were taken bad."
+
+"But we are, old chap.  Better and more brotherly than ever.  I never
+knew till now how brave, and true, and manly--Ha! he's gone," sighed
+Emson sadly; for Dyke had made a sudden bound, and dashed out of the
+place, keeping away for fully half an hour, before he thrust in his head
+once more.
+
+"Ah, there you are," said Emson.  "Come and sit down.  I want to speak
+to you."
+
+"Look here, Joe," cried Dyke.  "I'm baas now, and I shall do as I like.
+Are you going to talk any more of that nonsense?  I am going if you
+are."
+
+"I shall not talk nonsense.  I only said--"
+
+"You stop, sir.  Don't you get only saiding again, for I won't have it.
+It's weak, and sickly, and sentimental.  Who wants to be told that he
+helped his brother when he was ill?  Such rot!  Why, wouldn't you have
+fed me and washed my face if I'd grown as stupid and weak as you?
+There, shake hands.  I'll forgive you this time; but if ever--
+Hooray-y-y-y!  He's getting some muscle in his arm again.  You can feel
+him grip!  Why, a fortnight ago it was like shaking hands with a dead
+chicken.  I say, Joe, old man, you are heaps better."
+
+"Yes, I'm getting better.  I feel as if I shall live now."
+
+"Live?  Now there's a jolly old stupid.  Just as if you were ever going
+to feel anything else.  Look here, Joe: I shall have to make an
+alteration.  I've been spoiling you, giving you too many good things.
+And to begin with, I think I'll cut your hair."
+
+"Isn't it short enough?" said Emson rather piteously, as he feebly
+raised his hand to his temples.
+
+"Yes, there: it looks nice and fashionable.  But all down at the back
+it's like Breezy's mane."
+
+"Then you shall cut it, Dyke."
+
+"Ah-h-h!"
+
+"Well then, young un.  But how is poor Breezy?"
+
+"Getting wild for want of riding.  I went toward her yesterday, and she
+began dancing a _pas-de-deux_-legs on her fore-hoofs, and sparred at the
+sky with her hind.  Wait a bit, and you and I'll take some of the steam
+out of her and Longshanks.  We'll hunt out no end of ostriches' nests in
+the farther-off part of the veldt.  Here, what are you shaking your
+jolly old head for?  It's been quite shaky enough, hasn't it?"
+
+"I was thinking of the ostrich-farming, little un," said Emson sadly.
+"No, my lad, no more time wasted over that.  Two hundred years hence
+they may have got a more manageable strain of domesticated birds that
+will live well in confinement.  We've had our try, and failed."
+
+"Bah!  Not half tried.  I haven't.  No, Joe, we won't give up.  We'll do
+it yet.  Why, it was that black scoundrel Jack who caused half the
+mischief.  Oh, Joe, if I could only have caught him when he was knocking
+those poor young birds on the head, and had my gun with me."
+
+"What! would you have shot at him, young un?"
+
+"If I'd had small shot in one of the barrels.  They'd have just gone
+through, and peppered his hide nicely.  I say, Joe, his clothes wouldn't
+have stopped the shot corns."
+
+"No," said Emson, smiling; "his clothes wouldn't have stopped them."
+
+"Hooray-y-y-y!" shouted Dyke again, and the two lion cubs looked over
+the packing-case in which they were confined, wonderingly.
+
+"Look at him!  A regular half laugh.  We shall have the whole laugh
+soon.  But there, I mustn't stop, wasting time here."
+
+"Yes; stay a little longer, little un.  I want to talk to you," said
+Emson.
+
+"About my being such a nice, good boy--so brave and so noodley?  No, you
+don't.  I'm off!"
+
+"No, no; I will not say a word about that.  I want to talk to you."
+
+"But the ostriches want feeding."
+
+"They must wait," said Emson sadly.  "They've made us wait for profit.
+Look here, little un; sit down."
+
+"Well, if you want it.  But, honour bright: no buttering me."
+
+"I want to talk about our future."
+
+"Well, I can tell you that, Joe.  We're going to make a big success of
+the farm."
+
+"No, boy; we are going to give it up."
+
+"What!  Sell it?"
+
+"No; I should be ashamed to take money off a man for so worthless a
+bargain.  We are going to scrape together what skins and feathers are
+ours, so as to pay our way, and going home."
+
+"What! empty?" cried Dyke.  "That we won't."
+
+"We must, boy.  I shall never be myself till I have been under a good
+doctor."
+
+"What nonsense, Joe.  There, let's talk about something else.--I say,
+how playful the cubs get; but they're more like big Saint Bernard pups
+than kittens."
+
+"Let us talk about our future, boy," said Emson rather sternly.  "I was
+thinking bitterly of our prospects when I was sickening for this fever,
+and I have thought more about them since I have been lying here
+helpless; and as soon as I can get about, we must prepare for going
+home."
+
+"Beaten!  Go home, and say: `It's of no use, father; we're a poor,
+helpless pair.'"
+
+"We must accept the inevitable, little un."
+
+"There isn't any inevitable when you're my age, Joe.  One always used to
+feel on a bad day that sooner or later the fish would begin to bite."
+
+"Yes, but we used to change to another place."
+
+"Sometimes.  Well, let's change to another place, then.  But it would be
+a pity.  We've got never-failing water here, and even if the lions and
+baboons do come sometimes, it's a capital place.  I say, Joe, have
+another try."
+
+"You've quite changed your tune, old fellow," said Emson mournfully.
+"Do you remember?"
+
+"Why, of course.  What fellow doesn't remember what a donkey he has
+been?  I've often thought of it while you were ill, Joe, and of what a
+nuisance I must have been while you were so patient.  And I said to
+myself--There, never mind that--I say, Joe, do you really mean for us to
+go back beaten?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Not have one more try!"
+
+"No: I am too much broken down."
+
+"But I'm not.  I'm getting full of pluck and work now, and I'll do
+anything to keep things going till you come round."
+
+Emson shook his head sadly.
+
+"I say it is of no use, my lad; we are trying an impossibility."
+
+"Then let's try something else.  What do you think old Morgenstern
+said?"
+
+"That we were wasting time over the ostriches."
+
+"Well, yes, he did say that.  But he said something else."
+
+"Yes?  What?"
+
+"That he heard they were finding diamonds out on the veldt, and that he
+should advise you to have a good try."
+
+"Moonshine, boy.  The other day it was gold.  Do you think we should be
+wise in spending our days hunting for diamonds?"
+
+Dyke scratched his ear, glanced at his brother, and then shook his head.
+
+"Come, you are wise in that.  Old Morgenstern is a good, honest, old
+fellow, but it does not do to take anybody's advice on your own affairs,
+about which you know best yourself.  There, I must not talk any more;
+but don't go dreaming about diamonds, little un.  You and I did not come
+out here to make a fortune, but to get a straightforward, honest
+living."
+
+Emson closed his eyes, and Dyke sat watching him till his regular
+breathing told that he was fast asleep, and then the lad went out to go
+and busy himself about the place, meaning to take his gun that evening
+and make for the patch of forest beyond the kopje, so as to shoot a
+couple or so of the guinea-fowl; but a sharp storm came on and prevented
+him, though at bed-time, when he looked out, after seeing that the lion
+cubs and dog were curled up happily enough together, the stars were
+shining brilliantly, and a dull, soft light in the east told that the
+full moon would soon be up.
+
+Five minutes later he was in his corner, feeling very drowsy, and a
+little troubled in his mind about his brother's determination.
+
+"But Joe'll think differently when he gets better," Dyke said to
+himself; and then began to think whether he ought not to have watched
+the wagon.
+
+"One can't work and watch, too," he thought as he yawned, "but I might
+have made Duke sleep in the wagon, and I will."
+
+But he was so utterly wearied out that he kept putting off the getting
+up from minute to minute, till he forgot all about it in sleep, plunging
+at once into a troubled dream, in which he saw his brother standing,
+angry and threatening with a big stick in his hand, and about to bring
+it down upon him with a heavy thud for neglecting their valuable stores,
+when he awoke to find that there was some substance in that dream.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
+
+THE NIGHT ATTACK.
+
+For a few moments Dyke could not collect himself sufficiently to speak,
+but stared at the black figure leaning over him, with what seemed to be
+a heavy club, while the shadow cast by the feeble lamp upon the wall to
+his left looked prodigious.
+
+"Get up!  Come!" was whispered in his ear, and he felt the stout cudgel
+pressed upon his legs.  "You, Tant?" he faltered.  "Oomps.  Jump.  Jack
+come.  Jack tief."
+
+"What!" cried Dyke springing up, half-dressed, as he had lain down.
+
+"Shoo!" whispered the woman.  "Bring gun, shoot."
+
+"You want me to shoot Jack?"
+
+"Oomps.  Wagon.  Kaffirs take all mealies."
+
+"You're a pretty sort of a wife," thought Dyke, as he caught up his
+loaded gun from the corner, and wondered that the dog had not stirred.
+
+Just then Tanta Sal touched his arm, pointed to the light, and made a
+puffing sound with her lips.
+
+"Put it out?" he whispered.
+
+She nodded, and Dyke turned down the wick, so that the place was only
+lit up by the pale rays of the moon.
+
+"Where are they?" whispered Dyke.  "At the wagon?"
+
+"No, not come; Jack come say Tant Sal go 'way to-night 'long o' Jack.
+Gone fetch Kaffir, carry mealies.  Come."
+
+She took his arm tightly and led him to the door, which he found ajar,
+and as soon as they were outside she closed it after them.
+
+"Stop a moment.  Let's have the dog."
+
+"No: dog make noise, and Jack top.  Come."
+
+The woman led him to the wagon, and mounting on to the box, opened the
+canvas and crept in silently, while the boy hesitated to follow.
+
+Suppose it was a trap, and Tanta had her husband and two or three men in
+waiting there.
+
+"Absurd!" he thought the next moment.  "Why should they hurt me?  They
+could have robbed the wagon without."
+
+Mounting then quickly, he felt his arm seized, and he was half drawn
+into the wagon, where all was black on one side, while the canvas tilt
+showed faintly in the moonlight on the other.
+
+Dyke was just able to make out that the woman was watching by the
+canvas, which hung over the front; then she reached back to him.
+
+"Jack say try kill Baas Dyke, but dog come.  Kill Baas Dyke some day."
+
+"That's nice," whispered the boy.  "What for?"
+
+"Jack tief.  Want wagon, want horse, want all."
+
+"Then it's war," said Dyke, "and he shan't have them."
+
+"Shoo!" whispered the woman, and she leaned forward with her head half
+out of the opening.  Then turned quickly.
+
+"Jack come, Jack one, Jack one, Jack one."
+
+"Four of them?" whispered Dyke.
+
+"Oomps.  Baas Dyke shoot."
+
+The boy pressed the triggers as he drew up the cocks of his piece, so
+that the clicking made was extremely faint, and then stood ready and
+expectant.  But he had not long to wait.  For almost directly there was
+a dull sound as of footsteps; a heavy breathing, and hands tugged at the
+tightly fastened canvas at the back of the wagon.  Then there was a low
+whispering.  Whoever it was passed along to the front of the wagon, and
+then there was a heavy breathing as the visitors swung themselves up on
+to the wagon-box, Dyke judging from the sounds that either three or four
+people had climbed up.  Then the canvas was dragged back, and as Dyke
+pointed his gun, hesitating about firing, and then deciding to shoot
+overhead to startle the marauders, one crept in.
+
+At that moment there was a whizz and the sound of a tremendous blow,
+followed by a loud yell of pain and a perfect shower of blows delivered
+with wonderful rapidity upon the attacking party, who sprang out and
+fell from the wagon front.
+
+It was all almost momentary, and then Dyke was leaning out through the
+canvas, and fired twice at random.
+
+"It won't hit, only frighten them," he thought; and then he turned cold,
+for at the second report there was a yell, the sound of a fall, a
+scuffling noise, and a series of cries almost such as would be uttered
+by a dog, and growing more and more distant, as the boy listened,
+feeling convinced that he had shot Duke.
+
+Tanta Sal was of a different opinion.
+
+"Dat Jack," she said, laughing softly.  "Jack tief.  No come kill Tant
+now."
+
+Dyke was silent for a few moments.  He was thinking about what
+cartridges he had placed in his gun, and remembered that they were
+Number 6, which he had intended for the guinea-fowl.
+
+"Those wouldn't kill him," he muttered, "and he was a long way off."
+
+"No get mealies now," said the woman, interrupting the boy's musings.
+"Baas Dyke go bed?"
+
+"Stop! suppose they are waiting?" whispered Dyke.
+
+"Wait?  What for?" she replied.  "No.  All run away.  No come now."
+
+She climbed out on to the box and held the canvas aside for Dyke to
+follow, which he did, and then tied the opening up again, and leaped
+down to stand listening to the dog's barking within the house.
+
+"Tant go sleep," said the woman; and she hurried off, while Dyke opened
+the door for the dog to bound out growling, and ready to rush off at a
+word, but Dyke called him in and shut the door, fastening it now; the
+fact of the dog sleeping inside being, he thought, sufficient
+protection--the coming of the woman not being noticed by Duke, who, of
+course, set her down as a friend.
+
+But Dyke did not lie down for some time after assuring himself that the
+noise had not roused his brother from his heavy sleep.  The boy was
+uneasy about the woman.  She had told him that Jack had threatened to
+kill her.  Suppose he came back now with his companions to take revenge
+upon her for betraying their plans.
+
+"She wouldn't know," he said to himself, after carefully weighing the
+matter over in his mind, to decide that they would be afraid to come
+again after such a reception.
+
+So, concluding at last that the woman would be quite safe, Dyke reloaded
+his gun, placed it ready, and lay down once more, conscious of the fact
+now that the dog was awake and watchful.
+
+Five minutes after he was asleep, and did not wake till the Kaffir woman
+came and tapped at the door, to show him, with a look of triumph, four
+assegais left behind by the visitors of the past night.
+
+"Dat Jack," she said, holding up one.  "Dose oder fellow."
+
+"Will they come for them?"
+
+"No.  Jack no come again.  Get other wife.  Tant Sal don't want any
+more."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
+
+OOM STARTLES HIS FRIENDS.
+
+The days glided peacefully by, with Dyke kept busy enough supplying the
+larder, especially for his brother's benefit, and under his treatment
+the poor fellow grew better.
+
+But so slowly; and he was the mere ghost of his former self when he
+began to crawl out of the house by the help of a stick, to sit in the
+shade and watch Dyke as he was busy about the place.
+
+There was very little to vary the monotony of their life.  A lion came
+one night, but did not molest horse or bullock.  They had visits, too,
+from the jackals, but Tanta Sal was right--Jack came no more, and they
+saw nothing of the Kaffirs who had been his companions, though Dyke
+found a rough hut and traces of a fire in the patch of forest close to
+where he went to shoot the guinea-fowl, showing that he must often have
+been pretty near the Kaffirs' hiding-place.
+
+In fact, Jack had had a very severe peppering, and felt not the
+slightest inclination to risk receiving another.
+
+The subject of giving up Kopfontein was often discussed, but even if it
+were done, it seemed evident that many months must elapse before Emson
+would be fit to travel; so the subject was talked of less often, though
+one thing was evident both to Dyke and his brother--their scheme of
+ostrich-farming had completely broken down, and unless a bold attempt
+were made to start afresh, they would gradually become poorer and
+poorer, for alone, all Dyke's efforts to collect valuable skins were
+disposed to be rather unfruitful, try hard as he would.
+
+Months had passed, and they had had no more black visitors, but one day
+Tanta Sal rushed into the house where the brothers were seated at
+dinner, with such a look of excitement upon her features, that Dyke
+sprang up, seized one of the guns and handed another to his brother, who
+stood up, looking weak, but determined to help if danger were at hand.
+
+But Tanta gesticulated, pushed the guns away, and signed to Dyke to
+follow.
+
+The cause of the woman's excitement was evident directly, for there, a
+mile away, was a wagon drawn by a long team of oxen, and it was evident
+that they were to have visitors at the farm.
+
+"Some poor wretch going up in the wilds to seek his fortune," said Emson
+rather sadly.  "I wish him better luck than ours, young un."
+
+"Oh, I say, Joe, don't talk in that doleful way," cried Dyke excitedly.
+"This is so jolly.  It's like being Robinson Crusoe and seeing a sail.
+Here, wait while I fetch the glass."
+
+Dyke returned the next minute with his hands trembling so that he could
+hardly focus and steady the "optic tube."  Then he shouted in his
+excitement, and handed the telescope to his brother.
+
+"Why, it's that fat old Dutchman, Morgenstern!  Who'd have thought of
+seeing him?"
+
+Sure enough it was the old trader, seated like the Great Mogul in the
+old woodcuts.  He was upon the wagon-box, holding up an enormously long
+whip, and two black servants were with him--one at the head of the long
+team of twelve oxen, the other about the middle of the double line of
+six, as the heavy wagon came slowly along, the bullocks seeming to
+crawl.
+
+"I am glad," cried Dyke.  "I say, Joe, see his great whip?  He looked in
+the glass as if he were fishing."
+
+"Tant make fine big cake--kettle boil--biltong tea?" asked the Kaffir
+woman hospitably.
+
+"Yes," said Emson quietly.  "But," he continued, as Tanta Sal ran off to
+the back of the house, "it may not be Morgenstern, young un.  Fat
+Germans look very much alike."
+
+"Oh, but I feel sure this is the old chap.--I say, what's the German for
+fat old man?"
+
+"I don't know.  My German has grown rusty out here.  Dicker alte Mann,
+perhaps.  Why?"
+
+"Because I mean to call him that.  He always called me booby."
+
+"No, bube:--boy," said Emson, smiling.
+
+They stood watching the wagon creeping nearer and nearer for a minute or
+two, Dyke longing to run to meet the visitors; but he suddenly recalled
+the orderly look at Morgenstern's, and rushed back into the house to try
+to make their rough board a little more presentable; and he was still in
+the midst of this task, when, with a good deal of shouting from the
+Kaffir servants, and sundry loud cracks of the great whip, the wagon,
+creaking and groaning, stopped at the fence in front of the house, and
+the old German shouted:
+
+"Ach! mein goot vrient Emzon, how you vas to-day?  Vere is der bube?"
+
+"Dicker alte Mann!" said Dyke between his teeth, and hurriedly brushing
+away some crumbs, and throwing a skin over the chest in which various
+odds and ends were kept, he listened to the big bluff voice outside as
+Morgenstern descended.
+
+"It is goot to shack hant mit an Englander.  Bood you look tin, mein
+vrient.  You haf been down mit dem vever?"
+
+"Yes, I've been very ill."
+
+"That is nod goot.  Bood you ged besser now.  Ach, here is der poy!
+Ach! mein goot liddle bube, ant how you vas?"
+
+Dyke's hands were seized, and to his horror the visitor hugged him to
+his broad chest, and kissed him loudly on each cheek.
+
+"Oh, I'm quite well," said Dyke rather ungraciously, as soon as he could
+get free.
+
+"Ov goorse you vas.  Grade, pig, oogly, shtrong poy.  I am clad to zee
+you again.  You did got home guite zave?"
+
+"Eh?  Oh yes.  But that's ever so long ago."
+
+"Zo?  Ach!  I haf been zo busy as neffer vas.  Now you led mein two poys
+outspan, eh?"
+
+"Of course," said Emson warmly.--"Show them where the best pasture is,
+toward the water, Dyke.--Come in, Herr.  You look hot and tired."
+
+"Ja, zo.  I am sehr hot, and you give me zomeden to drink.  I haf zom
+peaudivul dea in dem vagons.  I give you zom to make."
+
+An hour later, with the visitor and his men refreshed, Morgenstern
+smiled at Dyke, and winked both his eyes.  "You know vad I vants?" he
+said.
+
+"Yes; your pipe."
+
+"Ja, I wand mein bibe.  You gom mit me do god mein bibe und mein dobacco
+din; und den I light oop, und shmoke und dalk do you, und you go all
+round, und zhow me den ostridge-bird varm."
+
+They all went out together, the visitor noticing everything; and laying
+his hand upon Emson's shoulder, he said: "You muss god besser, mein
+vrient.  You are nod enough dick--doo tin."
+
+"Oh, I'm mending fast," said Emson hastily, and then they stopped by the
+wagon, with Morgenstern's eyes twinkling as he turned to Dyke.
+
+"You haf been zo goot," he said; "you make me ead und trinken zo mooch,
+dat I gannod shoomp indo den vagon.  I am zo dick.  Good!  You shoomp
+in, and get me mein bibe und dobacco din."
+
+Dyke showed him that he could; fetched it out, and after the old man had
+filled, lit up, and begun to form smoke-clouds, he said: "You dake me
+now do see if mein pullocks and my poys is ead und trink."
+
+"Oh, they're all right," cried Dyke.
+
+"Ja.  Bood I always like do zee for meinzelf.  Zom beobles ist nod as
+goot as you vas, mein vrient.  A good draveller ist kind do his beast
+und his plack poy."
+
+The visitor was soon satisfied, for he was taken round to where Tanta
+Sal was smiling at her two guests, who, after making a tremendous meal,
+had lain down and gone to sleep, while the oxen could be seen at a
+distance contentedly grazing in a patch of rich grass.
+
+"You haf no lions apout here," said the old man, "to gom und shdeal mein
+gattle?--Ah, vot ist das?" he cried, turning pale as he heard a peculiar
+noise from somewhere close at hand.  Quigg!  "You ged der goon und
+shoot, or der lion gom und preak von of der oxen's pack."
+
+"It's all right," cried Dyke, laughing.  "Come and look here."
+
+The old man looked rather wild and strange, for, as Dyke threw open a
+rough door in the side of one of the sheds, the two lion cubs, now
+growing fast towards the size of a retriever dog, came bounding out.
+
+"Ach! shdop.  Do not led them ead der poor alter pecause he is zo nice
+und vat.  Eh, dey will not hurt me?"
+
+"No!" cried Dyke; "look here: they are as tame and playful as kittens."
+
+Dyke proved it by dropping on his knees and rolling the clumsy, heavy
+cubs over, letting them charge him and roll him over in turn.
+
+"Ach! id is vonterful," said the old man, wiping the perspiration from
+his face.  "I did tought dey vas go to eat den alt man.  You make dem
+dame like dot mit dem jambok."
+
+"With a whip?  No," cried Dyke; "with kindness.  Look here: pat them and
+pull their ears.  They never try to bite.  You should see them play
+about with the dog."
+
+"Boor liddle vellows den," said the old man, putting out his hand
+nervously.  "Ach, no; id is doo bat, you liddle lion.  Vot you mean py
+schmell me all over?  I am nod for you do ead."
+
+Dyke laughed, for the cubs turned away and sneezed.  They did not
+approve of the tobacco.
+
+"There, come along," he cried; and the cubs bounded to him.  "I'll shut
+them up for fear they should frighten your oxen."
+
+"Das is goot," said the old man with a sigh of satisfaction, as he saw
+the door closed upon the two great playful cats.  "Bood you zhall mind,
+or zom day I zhall gom ant zee you, but vind you are not ad home, vor
+die young lion haf grow pig und ead you all oop."
+
+"Yes," said Emson; "we shall have to get rid of them before very long.
+They may grow dangerous some day."
+
+"Ach!  I dell you vot, mein vrient Emzon, I puy dose lion ov you, or you
+led me shell dem, to go do Angland or do Sharmany."
+
+"Do you think you could?"
+
+"Do I dink I good?  Ja, I do drade in effery dings.  I gom now to puy
+iffory und vedders.  You shell me all you vedders, und I gif you good
+brice."
+
+"I have a very poor lot, Morgenstern, but I'll sell them to you.  Dyke
+and I have done very badly."
+
+"Zo?  Bood you will zell do me.  I zaid do myself I vould go und zee
+mein vrient Emzon und den bube.  He zay I am honest man.--You droost
+me?"
+
+"Of course," said Emson frankly.  "I know you for what you are,
+Morgenstern."
+
+The old man lowered his pipe, and held out his fat hand.
+
+"I dank you, Herr Emzon," he said, shaking his host's hand warmly.  "Id
+is goot do veel dot von has a vrient oud here in der desert land.  Bood
+I am gonzern apout you, mein vrient.  You haf peen very pad.  You do
+look sehr krank; unt you zay you haf tone padly.  I am moch gonzern."
+
+"We've been very unlucky," said Emson, as the old man seated himself
+upon a block of granite, close to one of the ostrich-pens, while an old
+cock bird reached over and began inspecting his straw-hat.
+
+"Zo I am zorry.  Bood vy do you not dry somedings else?  Hund vor skins
+or vor iffory?  I puy dem all.  Und not dry do keep den ostridge-bird in
+dem gage, bood go und zhoot him, und zell die vedders do me.  Or der is
+anodder dings.  Hi!  You bube: did you dell den bruders apout den
+diamonts?"
+
+"Oh yes, I told him," said Dyke sadly; "but he has been so ill.  I
+thought once he was going to die."
+
+"Zo!  Den tunder! what vor you no gom und vetch me und mine old vomans?
+Die frau gom und vrighten avay das vevers.  She is vonterful old vomans.
+She make you like to be ill."
+
+"I was all alone, and couldn't leave him," said Dyke.  "I was afraid he
+would die if I did."
+
+"Ja, zo.  You vas quite right, mein young vrient Van Dyke.  You are a
+goot poy, unt I loaf you.  Zhake mein hant."
+
+The process was gone through, Dyke shrinking a little for fear he would
+be kissed.
+
+"Und zo die pirts do nod get on?" said Morgenstern after a pause, during
+which he sat smoking.
+
+"No, in spite of all our care," said Emson.
+
+"Ach! vot ist das?" cried the old man, looking sharply round, as his hat
+was snatched off by the long-necked bird which had been inspecting it.
+"You vill gif dot pack to me, shdupit.  Id ist nod goot do eat, und I am
+sure id vould not vid your shdupid liddle het.--Dank you, bube," he
+continued, as Duke rescued and returned the hat.  "Eh? you dink it goot.
+Vell, it vas a goot hat; bud you go avay und schvallow shdones, und
+make vedders for me to puy.  Ach! dey are vonny pirts, Van Dyke.  Und zo
+dey all go die?"
+
+"We lost a great many through the Kaffir boy we had," said Dyke, as they
+walked slowly back to the house.
+
+"Zo?  He did not give them do eat?"
+
+"We saw that the birds had enough to eat," said Dyke; "but he used to
+knock their heads with a stone."
+
+"Zo?  Dot vas nod goot.  Shdones are goot for die pirts to schvallow,
+bud nod for outside den het.  I dink, mein younger vrient, I should haf
+knog dot shentleman's het outside mit a shdone, und zay do him, `You go
+avay, und neffer gom here again, or I zhall bepper your black shkin mid
+small shot.'"
+
+"That's what Dyke did do," said Emson, smiling.
+
+"Zo?  Ach! he is a vine poy."
+
+"Hah!" sighed the old man as he sank upon a stool in the house.  "Now I
+zhall shmoke mein bibe, und den go do mein wagon und haf a big long
+schleep, vor I am dire."
+
+He refilled his pipe, and smoked in silence for a few minutes, and then
+said thoughtfully:
+
+"Emzon, mein vrient, I am zorry to zee you veak und krank, und I am
+zorry do zee your varm, und I should not be a goot vrient if I did not
+dell you die truth."
+
+"Of course not," said Emson; and Dyke listened.
+
+"All dese has been a misdake.  You dake goot advice, mein vrient.  You
+led die long-legged pirts roon vere dey like, und you go ant look for
+diamonts."
+
+Emson shook his head.
+
+"No," he said, "I am no diamond hunter.  It would not be fair for my
+brother, either.  I have made up my mind what to do.  I am weak and ill,
+and I shall clear off and go back home."
+
+"Nein, nein.  Dot is pecause you are krank.  Bube, you make your bruder
+quite vell und dry again.  Dot is der vay.  You shall nod go home to
+your alt beobles und say, `Ve are gom pack like die pad shillings.  No
+goot ad all.'"
+
+"That's what I say," cried Dyke eagerly.  "I want to hunt for diamonds,
+and collect feathers, and skins, and ivory."
+
+"Goot!  Und gom und shell all to alt Oom Morgenstern."
+
+"Yes," cried Dyke.  "I say: help me to make my brother think as I do."
+
+"Of goorse I will, bube; I know," said the old man, winking his eyes.
+"It ist pecause he has got das vevers in his pones; bud I haf in mein
+wagon zix boddles of vizzick to vrighten avay all dot.  I zhall give him
+all die boddles, und I shall bud indo each zom quinines.  Id ist pord
+wein, und he vill dake two glass, effery day, und fery zoon he vill
+laugh ad dem vevers und zay: `Hi!  Van Dyke, get on your horse and go
+mit me to get iffory, und vedders, und skins, und diamonts, till we haf
+got a load, und den we vill go und shell dem to alt Oom Morgenstern--do
+dem alt ooncle, as you gall him.'--Vot haf you got dere, bube?"
+
+"Two or three of the ostrich skulls that I found with the marks made in
+them by the Kaffir with a stone," said Dyke, who had just been and
+opened the door of his case of curiosities.
+
+"Zo!" said the old man.  "Ah, und negs time you see dot Kaffir poy you
+make zome blace like dot upon der dop of his het.  Und vot else have you
+there?--any dings to zell me?"
+
+"Oh no; only a few curiosities I picked up.  Look!  I took these all out
+of the gizzard of an old cock ostrich we were obliged to kill, because
+he broke his leg."
+
+Dyke handed a rough little wooden bowl to the old man.
+
+"Ach!  Mein cracious!" he cried.
+
+"You wouldn't have thought it.  And here's a great piece of rusty iron
+that he had swallowed too; I picked it out when I had lost a knife, and
+thought he had swallowed it."
+
+"Mein cracious!" cried the old man again, and he let his pipe fall and
+break on the rough table.
+
+Dyke laughed as the visitor turned over the stones and the bit of rusty
+iron.
+
+"One would have thought it would kill them to swallow things like that,
+but they're rare birds, Herr Morgenstern; they'll try and swallow
+anything, even straw-hats."
+
+"Mein cracious, yes!" cried the old man again.  "Und so, bube, you did
+vind all dose--dose dings in dem gizzard ov dot pirt?"
+
+"Yes, all of them.  I've got another bowlful that I picked up myself.
+There are a good many about here."
+
+"You vill let me loog ad dem, mein younger vrient?"
+
+"Of course," said Dyke, and he fetched from the case another rough
+little bowl that he had obtained from one of the Kaffirs.
+
+There were about ten times as many of the stones, and with them pieces
+of quartz, shining with metallic traces, and some curious seeds.
+
+Morgenstern turned them over again and again, and glanced at Emson, who
+looked low-spirited and dejected.
+
+"Ach, zo!  Mein cracious!" cried the old man; then, with his voice
+trembling: "Und zo there are blendy of dose shdones apout here?"
+
+"Yes; I've often seen the ostriches pick them up and swallow them.  I
+suppose it's because they are bright."
+
+"Yes, I suppose it ist pecause they are zo bright," said the old man,
+pouring out a handful of the stones into his hand, and reverently
+pouring them back into the rough wooden bowl.  Then rising, he shook
+hands silently with Dyke.
+
+"Going to bed?"
+
+"No, mein younger vrient, nod yed.  I haf somedings to zay to your
+bruder," and turning to Emson, who rose to say good-night to him, he
+took both his hands in his own, and pumped them up and down.
+
+"Yoseph Emzon," he said, in a deeply moved voice, "I like you when you
+virst game into dese barts, und I zay dot man is a shentleman; I loaf
+him, unt den bube, his bruder.  Now I gom here und vind you ill, my
+heart ist zore.  I remember, doo, you zay I vas honest man, ant I dank
+den Lord I am, und dot I feel dot I am, und can say do you, mein young
+vrient, zom beobles who know what I know now would sheat und rob you,
+but I vould not.  I vont zom days to die, und go ver der Lord vill say,
+`Vell done, goot und vaithful zervant.'  Yoseph Emzon, I am honest man,
+und I zay do you, all your droubles are over.  You haf been zick, but
+you vill zoon be quide vell und shdrong, vor you vill not haf das sore
+heart, und de droubles which make do hair drop out of your het."
+
+"Thank you, Morgenstern.  I hope I shall soon be well enough to go,"
+said Emson, sadly.
+
+"Bood you vill not go, mein vrient," cried the old man.  "You vill not
+leave here--mein cracious, no!  You vill shdop und get all die ostridge
+you gan, und shend dem out effery day to big oop zom shdones, und den
+you vill dig oop der earth vor die pirts to vind more shdones, und when
+dey haf shvallowed all dey gan, you und der bube here vill kill dem, und
+empty die gizzards into die powls of water to vash dem."
+
+"No, no, no: what nonsense!" cried Emson, while Dyke suddenly dashed to
+the table, seized one bowl, looked at its contents, and banged them down
+again.
+
+"Hurray!" he yelled.  "Oh!  Herr Morgenstern, is it real?"  For like a
+light shot from one of the crystals, he saw the truth.
+
+"Nonsense, Yoseph Emzon?" cried the old man.  "Id is drue wisdom, as
+goot as der great Zolomon's.  Yoseph Emzon, I gongradulade you.  You haf
+had a hart shdruggle, but it is ofer now.  Die ostridge pirts haf made
+you a ferry rich man, und I know dot it is right, for you vill always do
+goot."
+
+"But--but--do I understand?  Are those--those--"
+
+"Yes, Joe," roared Dyke, springing at his brother.  "There is no more
+room for despair now, old chap, for you are rich; and to think we never
+thought of it being so when you were so unhappy, and--and--Oh, I can't
+speak now.  I don't care for them--only for the good they'll do to you,
+for they're diamonds, Joe, and there's plenty more diamonds, and all
+your own."
+
+"Yes, und pig vons, too," said the old trader, with a look of triumph;
+"und now I must haf somedings to trink.  I haf dalk so much, I veel as I
+shall shoke.  Here, bube, you go und shoomp indo dem vagon, und bring
+one of die plack poddles out of mein box py vere I shleep.  Id is der
+bruder's vizzick, bud ve vill trink a trop to-night do gongradulade him,
+und you dwo shall trink do der health of dis honesd alt manns."
+
+The bottle of port was fetched, a portion carefully medicated with
+quinine, and Morgenstern handed it to the invalid.
+
+"Mein vrient," he said, "das is wein dot maketh glad das heart of man.
+I trink do your goot health."
+
+A few minutes later the old trader said softly:
+
+"I go now to say mein brayer und get mein schleep.  Goot-night, mein
+vrients, und Gott pless you both."
+
+It was about an hour later, when the faint yelping of the jackals was
+heard in the distance, that Emson said softly:
+
+"Asleep, young un?"
+
+"No, Joe; I can't get off nohow.  I say, am I dreaming, or is all this
+true?"
+
+"It is true, lad, quite true; and I suppose that you and I are going to
+be rich men."
+
+"Rich man and boy, Joe.  I say: are you pleased?"
+
+"More thankful than pleased, Dyke, for now, when we like, we can start
+for home."
+
+"Without feeling shamefaced and beaten, eh, Joe?  Then I _am_ glad.  I
+didn't quite know before, but I do know now; and we can make the old
+people at home happy, too, Joe."
+
+"As far as money can make them so, little un."
+
+"Hullo!" cried Dyke; "you are a bit happy after all, Joe."
+
+"What makes you say that?"
+
+"You called me `little un' just in your old way, and I can feel that,
+with all the worry and disappointment gone now, you'll be able to get
+well."
+
+Emson was silent for a few minutes, and then he said softly:
+
+"Yes: I feel as if I can get better now; not that I care for the riches
+for riches' sake, Dyke, but because--Are you listening, little un?"
+
+Dyke was fast asleep, and a few minutes later Emson was sleeping too,
+and dreaming of faces at home in the old country welcoming him back, not
+for the sake of the wealth he brought, but because he was once more a
+hale, strong man.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
+
+THE CHANGE THAT CAME.
+
+"It's to-morrow morning, little un."
+
+Dyke did not stir, but he seemed to hear the words.
+
+"Do you hear, little un?  Tumble up and bustle.  Let's have a
+comfortable meal when he joins us.  Do you hear, sir?  Are you going to
+sleep all day?"
+
+Certainly he was not, for Dyke had sprung up, and was staring across the
+place at where, half-turned from him, Emson lay gazing at the golden
+east, where the sun was about to rise.
+
+"Little un: are you going to get up?"
+
+Dyke sprang from his bed, darted to his brother, caught him by the
+shoulder and pulled him round so as to look him in the face.
+
+"What's the matter, sleepy head?" said Emson, smiling.
+
+"Why, it's himself again," cried Dyke excitedly.  "Oh Joe, old man, you
+are better and no mistake.  I haven't heard you speak like that since I
+went to old Morgenstern's.--Oh!"
+
+"What is it?" cried Emson.
+
+"I'm not quite awake yet.  Yes I am, but I forgot that he was here, and
+about the diamonds; and--Joe, Joe, old chap, I don't believe precious
+stones ever did so much good before."
+
+"Don't talk about them, boy," said Emson, holding his brother's hand
+tightly in his.  "But I do seem as if a terrible load had been taken off
+body and brain.  I feel this morning that I shall see home again; and I
+have talked about going, but never felt that I should see it till now."
+
+"Then hooray for being rich!  But, I say!"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Suppose any one one should come and rob us now."
+
+Emson laughed aloud.
+
+"The first trouble that attends wealth, little un.  There, we've borne
+sorrow and disappointment like men."
+
+"Man and boy, Joe."
+
+"Like men, Dyke, for you have been a better man than I.  Now then, we'll
+bear prosperity, please God, as patiently and well."
+
+"Why, of course," cried Dyke; "but what did you do with the jolly old
+stones?"
+
+"Put them in your bowl, and then in the case.  Now see that the
+breakfast is got ready.  I'm far better, but I feel too weak to help."
+
+"Ah, but you won't long, if you go on like this," cried Dyke, dressing
+hurriedly, and beginning to have his morning wash in the bucket.  "I say
+Joe, though, let's have some luxuries, now, as soon as we can.  What do
+you say to a wash-hand basin?"
+
+"Oh yes, we'll have that."
+
+"And a sponge?  Here, I say: I wonder whether old Morningstar has got
+any sponges: we'll buy one.  New boots, too: mine are getting like
+Paddy's ride in the sedan-chair; I'm on the ground."
+
+"All in good time, little un; all in good time: the first thing now is
+breakfast for our good old visitor."
+
+"Ah, we'll have another spoonful of coffee in the pot this morning,
+Joe."
+
+The old trader met them at breakfast and smiled as he shook hands.
+
+"Ach ten!" he cried, "but you haf geschlafen wohl, mein vrient.  Der
+beace of mind is a goot ding.  You are besser.  You need not speak, for
+your eyes are delling me all der dime what dey dink, bube."
+
+"I'm sure he's better," said Dyke eagerly.
+
+"Und he vill zoon be guite himselfs again.  I zee you half been do mein
+oxen, Van Dyke."
+
+"Oh yes, I had a look at them; they were feeding well."
+
+"Ja; die poys dell me zo.  Now I go do ask you do let me shday dill
+do-morrow, und den die peasts vill pe rested, und I go on again."
+
+"Don't hurry, Herr Morgenstern," said Emson.  "You and I must have a
+long talk about--about--"
+
+"Die shdones?  Nein, mein good vrient, you go do zay you must share zom
+mid me, but I zhall dake none.  Look at me: I am zeventy jahrs alt, und
+I have blenty do leave my old vomans ven I die, zo should I dake what
+vill do you zo much good?"
+
+"But we owe everything to you."
+
+"Nein.  It ist not zo.  You have work hart, und you have got your goot
+dimes ad last.  You keep vot you haf found.  I zhall dake noding bood
+die hant of mein vrients."
+
+"Oh, but you ought to have a good share, Herr Morgenstern," cried Dyke.
+
+"Ach ten! what for you go shpeak like dot, you bube.  You wand to make
+me gross, und get in a big passion.  Tunder!  No, I vill dot dake von
+shingle shdone.  You shpeak again, I go away in a gross anger.  Aha! you
+see, mein vrient Yoseph, I zoon zed die dot imbudend bube, who go to
+shpoil my breakfass.  I do not wand my breakfass shpoil.  You
+oondershtan.  You say diamont again, I gall my poys, und inspan und go
+away."
+
+He frowned, as if he meant all he said, went on eating fiercely for a
+few moments, and then with his mouth full:
+
+"I have blenty," he cried, "und I am glad you have blendy, doo.  Now,
+von vort, von leedle vort, und I haf done.  You dake a long shdocking
+und pud die shdones in, and den you vind all you gan.  You make mooch as
+you gan before die beoble gom.  It is got to be know dot dere are blenty
+diamonts in der veldt, und tousands und tousands gom to vind.  Vell, you
+are virst; you pick oop all you gan pefore dey gom, und nopody know, for
+you shoot oop your mouth and hold your dongue.  Wise man don't cry `Look
+here!' when he vind.  He go und vind again, eh?  Dot is all, und I have
+enshoy der bess breakfass I effer vas haf."
+
+"But, really, Morgenstern."
+
+"Oof!  I am going to get in soch a big passion!" roared the old man
+furiously.  "I gom here und vind you all down in die doomps.  I gif you
+vizzick do make you shdrong, und I dell you you are ridge mans; und now
+you vill not led me haf any beace.  I haf not mooch hair left upon mein
+het: do you vant me to dear it all oud; zo as mein old vomans zhall nod
+know me when I go pack?"
+
+"No, no, no; but--"
+
+"Nod anoder vort.  I am going to shmoke mein bibe.--Ah, you bube, Van
+Dyke, you laugh pecause I preak him last night!  You dink I haf nod god
+anoder?  Ha, ha!  I haf god zigs, und one made of wood zo as he gannod
+preak.--Now, mein tear vrient Yoseph Emzon, led me rest und enshoy
+myself.--You bube, go und dell dot plack vomans do gook me a goot
+tinner.  I zhall go und shmoke mein bibe und shdudy close long,
+shdupid-looking pirts, und you gan both gom und dalk do me."
+
+Old Morgenstern had his own way, sitting about in different parts of the
+farm where there were suitable resting-places, and longest in the chasm
+of the granite by the water spring in the kopje.
+
+"So dis vas a vavoride blace of yours, eh, bube?" he said, as he sat and
+smoked in the shade.
+
+"Yes; it is so nice, and moist, and cool."
+
+"Ja, zo.  You are nod a shtupid poy at all.  Bood look here, dot vos a
+goot tinner: und I enshoy him mooch pecause I shall nod ged anoder dill
+I go pack to mein old vomans.  Now I do nod dink you and der pig bruder
+vill shdop ferry long at Kopfontein.  You will go pack to Angleland."
+
+"Oh yes, some day, of course," said Dyke.
+
+"Ja, zo.  When you haf vound blenty of shdones.  When you go pack, you
+vill nod dake dot voman?"
+
+"Oh no!  Poor old Tanta Sal; we shall be sorry to leave her behind."
+
+"Den you do nod go to leave her pehind.  You shall gom py me to go
+home.--Ah, heim! mein vaterland!  I zhall neffer go pack to her, bube: I
+am doo alt und dick.  I shall go vrom here do der great vaterland--do
+Himmel, I hope.  Bood you shall bring Tanta Sal to alt Oom Morgenstern.
+My alt vomans shall pe fery goot to her, und she shall gook tinners, und
+help.  Bood she vill haf to vear more glothes.  Mein alt voman vill nod
+led her go apout like dot."
+
+The next morning that plan regarding Tanta Sal's future was ratified,
+subject to the woman's agreement, and Emson thought that as they would
+go very slowly, he might be able to sit upon his horse, and ride with
+old Morgenstern for a few miles on his long round.
+
+The old man beamed with satisfaction, and Emson and Dyke mounted, and
+walked their horses, one on each side of the wagon-box, where the old
+fellow sat holding his big whip.
+
+They went to the first water, where the oxen were refreshed, a good six
+miles from Kopfontein, and then departed, the old man blessing them both
+in patriarchal manner, ending by kissing Dyke on each cheek.
+
+"Dill we meed again, mein sohn," he said, and the great team of oxen
+slowly moved away, guided by the two Kaffir boys.
+
+Emson and Dyke sat watching the wagon for some time, but the old man did
+not look back, and as Dyke sat gazing, he said to himself:
+
+"I suppose it is the German custom.  It seems queer to me, but I don't
+think I minded it so much just then."
+
+"What are you thinking about, little un?" said Emson huskily.
+
+"That old Morgenstern must be a very good old man.  I wish he wouldn't
+kiss me, all the same, and make me laugh at his ways."
+
+"It is only at his words and looks, Dyke.  God bless him!  We neither of
+us smile at him in our hearts."
+
+The sun was setting as they walked their horses up toward the
+shabby-looking corrugated iron buildings; but now, in the evening light,
+everything seemed glorified, and they drew rein to look around, neither
+speaking for some time.
+
+It was Dyke who broke the silence.
+
+"You are tired out and done up, Joe," he said.  "Let's get in, so that
+you can have some tea, and lie down and rest."
+
+Emson started from his reverie, and there was a bright light in his
+eyes, a smile upon his lip, which made Dyke's heart leap with pleasure,
+while, when he spoke, his words sounded almost as they did of old.
+
+"Tired, little un," he said, "and so stiff that you'll have to help me
+off the horse; but it is the good, honest weariness that makes rest one
+of the greatest pleasures of life.  Look here, old chap, I feel as if I
+am going to be a man again."
+
+He held out his hand, which Dyke caught and gripped without a word,
+listening as his brother went on.
+
+"We've found wealth, little un, and I suppose that is good, but it seems
+to me like nothing compared to health and strength.  One wants to have
+been pulled down very low to know what he is worth."
+
+Dyke said nothing, but sat looking round him still at the wide veldt,
+and skies one scene of glory, as the sun illumined the great granite
+kopje, and seemed to crown it with rays of gold.
+
+"Joe, old chap," he said at last, "I used to sit over there and sulk,
+and hate the hot old place and everything here, but--I don't think I
+shall like to leave it after all."
+
+"The time for leaving has not come yet, boy," said Emson quietly.  "We
+shall see.  At present it is home."
+
+It was three years later when they rode away, with their wagon lightly
+laden with the curiosities they wished to take back.  The stones they
+had collected were safely there before, sent home from time to time.
+
+For old Morgenstern had prophesied correctly.  The news had spread fast
+enough, and by degrees the country was overrun, and a busy city sprang
+up not many miles away.  They saw it with sorrow, certainly not from
+sordid motives--for within three months of the night when the old man
+visited Kopfontein, Dyke and his brother had picked up here and there
+all they cared to seek--but from a liking for the quiet life and their
+home on the veldt.
+
+But as it grew more and more changed, the time seemed to draw nearer for
+saying good-bye to the little farm, where, from old associations, they
+still bred ostriches, and with far better fortune, leading a simple
+life, tended by Tanta Sal and a Kaffir whom they found that they could
+trust.
+
+At last the time came.
+
+"Home, little un?" said Emson laconically.
+
+"Yes: Old England now," said the great strapping fellow six feet high.
+"Everything has changed, and I don't like the people who come always
+hanging about."
+
+So they rode away one day, with Duke and the Kaffir at the head of the
+team, and Tanta Sal seated in the wagon-box behind, smiling and happy at
+the thought of the change, and giving the two young lions in their cage
+a scrap from time to time.
+
+The homeward-bound pilgrims reached old Morgenstern's farm, where they
+were warmly welcomed, Tanta Sal arriving just at the right time.
+
+"Vor you see we are gedding ferry old beobles now, mein sohn," said
+Morgenstern; "und as I am a ridge man, I do not like to zee mein old
+vomans vork zo hart.--Aha! und zo yo dake die gubs mit you?"
+
+"Yes," said Dyke, "we are going to try and get them to England as a
+present for the Zoo."
+
+"Zo!" said the old man.
+
+Tanta Sal smiled contentedly when they rode off, a week later.  She had
+no compunction about staying, while the Kaffir man was to come back with
+the empty wagon and team when the pilgrims reached the big town, from
+whence travelling was easy to the Cape.
+
+And as the brothers mounted to go, Emson said:
+
+"This is cutting the last string, little un?"
+
+The stalwart "little un" nodded his head gravely.
+
+"Yes, old chap," he said, "but the Kopfontein of the past is gone.  It
+only lives in one's memory now."
+
+They turned to look back--their wagon slowly crawling on in front, with
+the patient oxen, fat and sleek, following the black vorloper--
+homeward-bound; and as they sat in their saddles they could see the old
+German standing by the place with his wife, waving their hands, and Dyke
+almost fancied he could hear the old man saying, as he had said at
+parting:
+
+"You are young und shdrong, und you haf die vorlt pefore you.  Mein alt
+vomans und I are goming nearly do der endt.  I do not zay dry und do
+goot mit vot you dake avay, vor I know you vill.  Vonce more, mein
+sohns--goot-pye."
+
+Just then Duke gave a sharp bark, as if to say, "Come on!"
+
+"Right, old dog," cried Dyke.  "Now, then, for home!"
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Diamond Dyke, by George Manville Fenn
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