Chapter Twenty One.

Chapter Twenty One.Small Friends.But they might have had fresh venison steaks for breakfast that morning instead of the “buck bones stooed,” as Dan called his dish, or rather, tin, for as the party took their seats beneath the wide-spreading tree where the meal was spread, they were all startled by quite a little procession winding amongst the trees. At least fifty of the pigmies were approaching, led by the miniature chief in his bangles and with his ornamented spear, and ended by four of the little fellows bearing a neatly woven hurdle upon which lay the doctor’s patient, carried shoulder high.“Tell them to set him under that tree, Mak,” said the doctor—“yonder.”He pointed to the place meant, and had a little difficulty in making their guide understand.“I had better make that my surgery, boys,” said the doctor, as he hurriedly finished his breakfast, and moved into the shade where the black, glossy-skinned little fellows were waiting patiently, ready to gaze at him with something like awe. They formed a half circle a short distance away, while he went down on one knee beside the hurdle, Mark and Dean standing just behind, and Dan, according to the orders he received, having ready a bowl, a sponge, a can of water, and the doctor’s case, while Sir James seated himself against a tree and Mak, spear-armed, stood beside him, looking frowning and important, as if everyone was working under his orders.“Capital!” said the doctor, as he examined the wound, and then proceeded to re-dress it, Dan grasping his wants as readily as if he had been a surgeon’s mate on board a man-of-war.To the surprise of the boys the little patient evinced no sense of pain, and when the doctor had finished, his face lit up with the nearest approach to a smile that had been seen upon the countenance of any of the pigmies.“Getting on splendidly,” said the doctor, patting him on the shoulder. “There, you may go.”At the word “go,” Mak, who had been standing like a black marble statue, started into life, and a word or two, accompanied by signs, resulted in the little bearers coming quickly forward, raising the hurdle, and beginning to move off, followed by the rest of the party, and a few minutes later they had disappeared amongst the trees.“Well,” said the doctor, “it doesn’t seem as if they are dissatisfied with my treatment.”“No,” replied Mark, laughing; “and they seem ready enough to pay your fees.”“Yes, and I must make haste and get our little friend well, which he soon will be, for Nature will do the rest; but I don’t suppose we shall see any more of them, for people of such a low grade of civilisation would probably soon forget. But we must get on. I want to discover Captain Lawton’s ancient city.”“Yes, I want to see that,” cried Dean. “One doesn’t want to be always hunting and shooting.”“That’s right, Dean. The sooner we are off the better. Oh, here comes Mak. Let’s stir him up again about where the big stones are.”“He will only point with his spear at the forest as if they were there,” said Mark, “and of course we can’t drive the bullocks through.”“No,” said Dean; “but he may mean that the old ruins are on the other side.”“Yes,” said the doctor, “and that we can go round, for we are evidently skirting the edge of this primaeval jungle.”“Skirting the edge!” said Mark, laughing. “Oh, yes—like skirting the edge of the world, and we shall be coming out some day—some year, I mean, right on the other side of America. I don’t believe there are any old stones. It’s all what-you-may-call-it.”“All what-you-may-call-it, you young sceptic!” said the doctor, laughing. “Well, whatdoyou call it, for I don’t know?”“Trade—tradesman—trading—trade—”“’Dition,” suggested Dean.“Yes, that’s it—all a tradition. I could only think of hunting a will-o’-the-wisp.”“I don’t think so,” said the doctor. “The captain said some of the hunting parties had seen the great stones in the distance.”“And he said too that they might have been kopjes. And I don’t believe that those who came hunting ever ran against these trees, or saw these little pigmy chaps, or else they would have talked about it.”“Similar people were seen by some of our travellers, but that was farther north and more central.”“But I don’t see why we should be in such a hurry to get on. We are very comfortable here,” said Mark.“Why do you say that?” said the doctor, looking at the boy searchingly. “You have some reason for it?”“Well,” said Mark hesitating, “I should like to see more of these little people. They amuse me. They are not much bigger than children, and they are such solemn, stolid little chaps. I don’t believe any of them ever had a good laugh in their lives.”“That’s because they never see any sunshine,” said Dean sententiously. “I believe they just have a run outside the forest to stick an arrow or two into the springboks, and then run into the shade again. It’s the sun makes one want to laugh, and I should be just as serious if I always lived under those trees.”“Well, I daresay they will bring my patient again to-morrow morning, and we will wait till then, and afterwards I should propose that we journey on at once.”“But you said you were going to ask Mak again about where the big stones are,” said Mark, and he signed to the black, who was standing leaning upon his spear watching them, and now in response to the boy’s signal, came up at once.“You ask him, my boy,” said the doctor, who was carefully examining the contents of his knapsack and tightening the cork of the little bottle before rolling it up again in the lint and bandages.Mark seized the opportunity.“Here, Mak,” he cried, “big stones? Where?”The black turned at once and pointed with his spear in the direction of the forest.“There, I told you so!” said Mark. Then to the black, “Well, go on; show the way.”Mak, who evidently understood, swung himself half round, and now pointed right along to the edge of the forest.“That’s clear enough, Mark,” said the doctor. “He means we have to go round, keeping to the edge and along the open plain where the bullocks can trek.”“Buck Denham—trek!” cried Mak, nodding his head, and using his spear to indicate the direction.“Big stones,” said the doctor, and he now pointed along the edge of the forest.“Mak find,” said the black, nodding his head vigorously.“Oh, it’s evident enough,” said the doctor quietly. “He knows what we want, and some day will guide us there. Well, we have plenty of time, boys, and I suppose you are in no hurry to get back to the manor?”“No, no, of course not; but I do want to see that little fellow again.”Mark had his desire fulfilled the next morning at daybreak, when instead of the numerous procession, the little chief, as they considered him, appeared, accompanied only by the four bearers with the patient and four others well loaded with twice as many big turkey-like birds, one of which showed the way in which they had been obtained, for a broken arrow projected from its back.The game was handed over to the white foreloper, who bore the birds off to the fire to begin plucking them, the two keepers joining him to quicken the task, while the bearers set down the hurdle beneath the tree, and quite as a matter of course Dan appeared with the tin bowl and a bucket of water. Mark hurriedly fetched the doctor’s knapsack and helped over the dressing of the wound, watching the while the change which had come over the little patient who lay seriously and fixedly gazing at Mark, while, as soon as the task was completed he stretched out his uninjured arm so that he could touch Mark’s hand. As on the previous morning Mak stood like a spear-armed sentry till all was over, uttered a word or two like an order, and the pigmy party marched back to the edge of the forest and disappeared.“Well, Mark,” said the doctor, who had been very observant, “I suppose that touch meant ‘Thank you and good-bye.’ But he might have paid me the same compliment. However, he evidently considers you to be the chief.”“No, he could not have done that,” said Mark. “Old Mak shows them all that he considers himself the black boss.”The doctor laughed.“But I say,” said Mark eagerly, “did you notice that little chief?”“Yes,” said the doctor. “I did notice it, and was going to speak about it. He was quite a dandy this morning, with his black ostrich feather and his brass wire band round his forehead. He looked quite smart. He must be the chief.”“But I say, doctor, is that brass wire?”“Of course; the same as his bangles and the rings about his ankles. What else could it be? One thing’s very plain. There are ostriches up here somewhere, and these people set store by their feathers. Now do you see what it means?”“Yes,” said Mark, “that the chief wears one and that none of the others do.”“I didn’t mean that,” said the doctor. “I meant that they evidently traded with dealers who come up the country here and use coils of brass wire as their current coin to exchange with the natives.”“Coils of brass wire which they cut in lengths, I suppose, to deal with these little blacks.”“That’s quite right, my boy; but what are you thinking about?”“I was thinking,” said Mark, “that if these traders came right up here and dealt with the pigmies we should have heard about it.”“Might or might not,” said the doctor.“Yes,” said Mark, who seemed very thoughtful, “and I might or might not be right if I said that I believe it isn’t brass but gold.”“What!” cried the doctor. “Nonsense!”Mark seemed as if he did not hear the doctor’s contemptuous words, while his cousin, startled by Mark’s suggestion, now said eagerly, “And there are those two bits like ferrules about the chiefs spear. They are not brass wire.”“No,” said the doctor, “but they might be thicker pieces beaten out into ferrules. But really, boys, you have started a curious train of thought. I hardly noticed the bangles; I was so much occupied with the little fellow’s wound. It might be what you say. I wish you had spoken before. It is a most interesting suggestion. Well, it isn’t worth while to go after them, and we will examine them closely to-morrow morning.”“But you said that we were going away to-day,” said Mark.“Yes,” replied the doctor, “but we are not obliged, and—really, this is interesting. It opens up quite a train of thought. Here, we will talk it over with Sir James at breakfast.”It was talked over quietly during the meal, and the party stayed that day, while the next morning both boys were awake before daylight and on the look out, with Mak, for the coming of the little strangers. But there was no sign of the tiny black chief and his men.“They won’t come,” said Mark impatiently, “and we have let the chance slip by of finding out something very interesting.”“But we don’t want to find out anything about gold,” said Dean, with a ring of contempt in his words.“No,” said Mark, “but I should have liked to have found out that it was gold, all the same. Well,” continued the boy, “that little chap has done with the doctor, and there will be no more bandaging.”“And no more of those big birds, unless we shoot them ourselves,” said Dean.“Wrong!” cried Mark excitedly. “Here they are!”

But they might have had fresh venison steaks for breakfast that morning instead of the “buck bones stooed,” as Dan called his dish, or rather, tin, for as the party took their seats beneath the wide-spreading tree where the meal was spread, they were all startled by quite a little procession winding amongst the trees. At least fifty of the pigmies were approaching, led by the miniature chief in his bangles and with his ornamented spear, and ended by four of the little fellows bearing a neatly woven hurdle upon which lay the doctor’s patient, carried shoulder high.

“Tell them to set him under that tree, Mak,” said the doctor—“yonder.”

He pointed to the place meant, and had a little difficulty in making their guide understand.

“I had better make that my surgery, boys,” said the doctor, as he hurriedly finished his breakfast, and moved into the shade where the black, glossy-skinned little fellows were waiting patiently, ready to gaze at him with something like awe. They formed a half circle a short distance away, while he went down on one knee beside the hurdle, Mark and Dean standing just behind, and Dan, according to the orders he received, having ready a bowl, a sponge, a can of water, and the doctor’s case, while Sir James seated himself against a tree and Mak, spear-armed, stood beside him, looking frowning and important, as if everyone was working under his orders.

“Capital!” said the doctor, as he examined the wound, and then proceeded to re-dress it, Dan grasping his wants as readily as if he had been a surgeon’s mate on board a man-of-war.

To the surprise of the boys the little patient evinced no sense of pain, and when the doctor had finished, his face lit up with the nearest approach to a smile that had been seen upon the countenance of any of the pigmies.

“Getting on splendidly,” said the doctor, patting him on the shoulder. “There, you may go.”

At the word “go,” Mak, who had been standing like a black marble statue, started into life, and a word or two, accompanied by signs, resulted in the little bearers coming quickly forward, raising the hurdle, and beginning to move off, followed by the rest of the party, and a few minutes later they had disappeared amongst the trees.

“Well,” said the doctor, “it doesn’t seem as if they are dissatisfied with my treatment.”

“No,” replied Mark, laughing; “and they seem ready enough to pay your fees.”

“Yes, and I must make haste and get our little friend well, which he soon will be, for Nature will do the rest; but I don’t suppose we shall see any more of them, for people of such a low grade of civilisation would probably soon forget. But we must get on. I want to discover Captain Lawton’s ancient city.”

“Yes, I want to see that,” cried Dean. “One doesn’t want to be always hunting and shooting.”

“That’s right, Dean. The sooner we are off the better. Oh, here comes Mak. Let’s stir him up again about where the big stones are.”

“He will only point with his spear at the forest as if they were there,” said Mark, “and of course we can’t drive the bullocks through.”

“No,” said Dean; “but he may mean that the old ruins are on the other side.”

“Yes,” said the doctor, “and that we can go round, for we are evidently skirting the edge of this primaeval jungle.”

“Skirting the edge!” said Mark, laughing. “Oh, yes—like skirting the edge of the world, and we shall be coming out some day—some year, I mean, right on the other side of America. I don’t believe there are any old stones. It’s all what-you-may-call-it.”

“All what-you-may-call-it, you young sceptic!” said the doctor, laughing. “Well, whatdoyou call it, for I don’t know?”

“Trade—tradesman—trading—trade—”

“’Dition,” suggested Dean.

“Yes, that’s it—all a tradition. I could only think of hunting a will-o’-the-wisp.”

“I don’t think so,” said the doctor. “The captain said some of the hunting parties had seen the great stones in the distance.”

“And he said too that they might have been kopjes. And I don’t believe that those who came hunting ever ran against these trees, or saw these little pigmy chaps, or else they would have talked about it.”

“Similar people were seen by some of our travellers, but that was farther north and more central.”

“But I don’t see why we should be in such a hurry to get on. We are very comfortable here,” said Mark.

“Why do you say that?” said the doctor, looking at the boy searchingly. “You have some reason for it?”

“Well,” said Mark hesitating, “I should like to see more of these little people. They amuse me. They are not much bigger than children, and they are such solemn, stolid little chaps. I don’t believe any of them ever had a good laugh in their lives.”

“That’s because they never see any sunshine,” said Dean sententiously. “I believe they just have a run outside the forest to stick an arrow or two into the springboks, and then run into the shade again. It’s the sun makes one want to laugh, and I should be just as serious if I always lived under those trees.”

“Well, I daresay they will bring my patient again to-morrow morning, and we will wait till then, and afterwards I should propose that we journey on at once.”

“But you said you were going to ask Mak again about where the big stones are,” said Mark, and he signed to the black, who was standing leaning upon his spear watching them, and now in response to the boy’s signal, came up at once.

“You ask him, my boy,” said the doctor, who was carefully examining the contents of his knapsack and tightening the cork of the little bottle before rolling it up again in the lint and bandages.

Mark seized the opportunity.

“Here, Mak,” he cried, “big stones? Where?”

The black turned at once and pointed with his spear in the direction of the forest.

“There, I told you so!” said Mark. Then to the black, “Well, go on; show the way.”

Mak, who evidently understood, swung himself half round, and now pointed right along to the edge of the forest.

“That’s clear enough, Mark,” said the doctor. “He means we have to go round, keeping to the edge and along the open plain where the bullocks can trek.”

“Buck Denham—trek!” cried Mak, nodding his head, and using his spear to indicate the direction.

“Big stones,” said the doctor, and he now pointed along the edge of the forest.

“Mak find,” said the black, nodding his head vigorously.

“Oh, it’s evident enough,” said the doctor quietly. “He knows what we want, and some day will guide us there. Well, we have plenty of time, boys, and I suppose you are in no hurry to get back to the manor?”

“No, no, of course not; but I do want to see that little fellow again.”

Mark had his desire fulfilled the next morning at daybreak, when instead of the numerous procession, the little chief, as they considered him, appeared, accompanied only by the four bearers with the patient and four others well loaded with twice as many big turkey-like birds, one of which showed the way in which they had been obtained, for a broken arrow projected from its back.

The game was handed over to the white foreloper, who bore the birds off to the fire to begin plucking them, the two keepers joining him to quicken the task, while the bearers set down the hurdle beneath the tree, and quite as a matter of course Dan appeared with the tin bowl and a bucket of water. Mark hurriedly fetched the doctor’s knapsack and helped over the dressing of the wound, watching the while the change which had come over the little patient who lay seriously and fixedly gazing at Mark, while, as soon as the task was completed he stretched out his uninjured arm so that he could touch Mark’s hand. As on the previous morning Mak stood like a spear-armed sentry till all was over, uttered a word or two like an order, and the pigmy party marched back to the edge of the forest and disappeared.

“Well, Mark,” said the doctor, who had been very observant, “I suppose that touch meant ‘Thank you and good-bye.’ But he might have paid me the same compliment. However, he evidently considers you to be the chief.”

“No, he could not have done that,” said Mark. “Old Mak shows them all that he considers himself the black boss.”

The doctor laughed.

“But I say,” said Mark eagerly, “did you notice that little chief?”

“Yes,” said the doctor. “I did notice it, and was going to speak about it. He was quite a dandy this morning, with his black ostrich feather and his brass wire band round his forehead. He looked quite smart. He must be the chief.”

“But I say, doctor, is that brass wire?”

“Of course; the same as his bangles and the rings about his ankles. What else could it be? One thing’s very plain. There are ostriches up here somewhere, and these people set store by their feathers. Now do you see what it means?”

“Yes,” said Mark, “that the chief wears one and that none of the others do.”

“I didn’t mean that,” said the doctor. “I meant that they evidently traded with dealers who come up the country here and use coils of brass wire as their current coin to exchange with the natives.”

“Coils of brass wire which they cut in lengths, I suppose, to deal with these little blacks.”

“That’s quite right, my boy; but what are you thinking about?”

“I was thinking,” said Mark, “that if these traders came right up here and dealt with the pigmies we should have heard about it.”

“Might or might not,” said the doctor.

“Yes,” said Mark, who seemed very thoughtful, “and I might or might not be right if I said that I believe it isn’t brass but gold.”

“What!” cried the doctor. “Nonsense!”

Mark seemed as if he did not hear the doctor’s contemptuous words, while his cousin, startled by Mark’s suggestion, now said eagerly, “And there are those two bits like ferrules about the chiefs spear. They are not brass wire.”

“No,” said the doctor, “but they might be thicker pieces beaten out into ferrules. But really, boys, you have started a curious train of thought. I hardly noticed the bangles; I was so much occupied with the little fellow’s wound. It might be what you say. I wish you had spoken before. It is a most interesting suggestion. Well, it isn’t worth while to go after them, and we will examine them closely to-morrow morning.”

“But you said that we were going away to-day,” said Mark.

“Yes,” replied the doctor, “but we are not obliged, and—really, this is interesting. It opens up quite a train of thought. Here, we will talk it over with Sir James at breakfast.”

It was talked over quietly during the meal, and the party stayed that day, while the next morning both boys were awake before daylight and on the look out, with Mak, for the coming of the little strangers. But there was no sign of the tiny black chief and his men.

“They won’t come,” said Mark impatiently, “and we have let the chance slip by of finding out something very interesting.”

“But we don’t want to find out anything about gold,” said Dean, with a ring of contempt in his words.

“No,” said Mark, “but I should have liked to have found out that it was gold, all the same. Well,” continued the boy, “that little chap has done with the doctor, and there will be no more bandaging.”

“And no more of those big birds, unless we shoot them ourselves,” said Dean.

“Wrong!” cried Mark excitedly. “Here they are!”

Chapter Twenty Two.A Rich Discovery.Dean Roche started in his excitement, for as his cousin spoke he saw that Mak, who had been waiting near, stood pointing with his spear at the little party of pigmies who were winding through the bushes and low growth at the forest edge, the little chief at their head, followed by four of his men bearing a couple of little antelopes swinging from spears, while behind them were two pigmies carrying what seemed to be a sort of creel, in which was their wounded fellow.“I say, look!” cried Dean. “He must be better.”“Go and tell the doctor, Mak,” said Mark, and then as Mak strode off, “I am glad they have come,” cried Dean.“Yes. We must tell the doctor to look at the brass bangles,” said Mark.“They are not brass,” cried Dean. “I am sure they are gold.”The doctor came out, meeting the messenger, and Dan, who was on the watch, followed him with what was required.The necessary attention to the wound followed, and the doctor quite excitedly pointed out with what wonderful rapidity the terrible injury was healing up.“There,” he suddenly cried, turning to the little chief, who stood leaning upon his spear, “you need not bring your friend any more, for we are going away.”The little fellow gazed up wonderingly in his eyes, and Mark burst out laughing.“What does that mean?” cried the doctor sharply, but without moving his eyes from the pale yellow ring that encircled the pigmy’s brow. Then lowering his eyes he searchingly looked at the bangles on wrist and arm. “Do you hear what I said? What does that mean?” he asked.“I was laughing at you for speaking so seriously,” said Mark. “He can’t understand a word.”“Of course not,” said the doctor. “Why, Mark,” he cried, “I believe you are right, boy.”“That it is not brass?” said Mark excitedly.“That it is not brass,” replied the doctor. “Where can they obtain it?”“Not in the woods, surely,” said Mark.“Oh, here’s your father,” said the doctor, as Sir James came towards them from the waggon.“Look at these bangles, sir,” continued the doctor, “and the band round this little fellow’s head. What do you say they are?”Sir James looked at the yellow objects attentively.“They cannot be brass,” he said decisively, “or in the moisture of that forest they would have tarnished. Why, boys, we didn’t come hunting for the precious metal, but we have found it, all the same.”“Yes, there’s no doubt of it,” said the doctor. “Well, the ancients must have obtained plenty of gold somewhere, and they are supposed to have built a big city in this direction. I feel disposed to put these things together and to say that this city must exist, and that these little fellows must have found their gold ornaments somewhere there. What can we do to find out from them where they obtained the gold?”“Ask them, sir,” said Mark.“How?”“I don’t know,” said Mark; “but I will try.”“Well, go on,” said Sir James.Mark looked doubtfully at his father for a few moments, and then turned his eyes upon his cousin, as if for help; but Dean only shook his head.“Well, go on,” said the doctor.“It is all very well to say, Go on, sir,” retorted Mark, “but it isn’t a Latin exercise, and it isn’t an equation. I don’t know how to begin.”Then as a thought struck him he bent down to the little chief and touched his bangles and armlets, finishing off by placing a finger upon the thin ribbon-like band which bound his forehead.The little fellow looked at him wonderingly as if he did not understand, and turning to the doctor’s patient he said a word or two in a questioning tone.This was answered in almost a whisper of a couple of monosyllabic words, which resulted in the little chief slipping one wire bangle from his arm and handing it to Mark, the Illaka looking on attentively the while.Mark shook his head, but the little fellow thrust the bangle into his hand and looked at him enquiringly.“No, no,” said Mark, “I want to know where you get it.”The words had no sooner passed the boy’s lips than the pigmy snatched off the fellow bangle from above his elbow, and held them both out.“No, no, no,” replied Mark, “We—want—to—know—where—you—got—them.”The little fellow laughed, stooped quickly, and took off the slender little anklets, holding now the four ornaments as if for the boy’s acceptance.“No, no, I tell you,” cried Mark impetuously. “We don’t want to rob you;” and leaning forward he touched the slender pieces of gold with his finger and then the ribbon-like band that was half hidden amongst the little fellow’s crisp curls.“Where—where did you get them?” cried Mark.The pigmy wrinkled up his forehead, with a disappointed look, raised his hands to his head, looking at the boy reproachfully the while, hesitated, and then snatched off the band, held all five ornaments together and thrust them towards Mark, with his face overcast and frowning the while.“Oh, I do wish I could talk to you,” cried Mark. “Here, Mak, can’t you say something?”The tall black shook his head and half turned away.“He doesn’t understand either,” said Dean. “Try dumb motions, Mark.”“All right,” cried Mark, seizing the set of rings, small and large, and they jingled musically together, while the pigmy with a gloomy look picked up his ostrich feather, which had fallen to the ground, thrust it into his hair, and turned frowningly away.“No, no; hold hard,” cried Mark merrily, and he prisoned the little fellow by the arm and twisted him round, making him look up in angry wonderment, and his eyes flashed resentment as Mark snatched the ostrich feather from out of his hair and stuck the quill end into one of the buttonholes of his flannel Norfolk jacket.The little dark face before him was lined with creases, and the flashing eyes nearly closed, while as he stood unresistingly Mark replaced the band of gold—for gold it was—about his head, and then taking the ostrich feather from his breast he thrust the quill beneath the band so that it hung over on one side with quite a cock.“There, he looks splendid now,” cried Mark, “only don’t look so fierce. Now then—right arm;” and seizing it the boy held it up, thrust one bangle over it and ran it up the pigmy’s plump little arm right above the elbow, till it was arrested by the tightened biceps.He served the left arm in the same way, and then sinking on one knee he caught the sturdy little leg by the ankle, and holding one bangle out before him thrust it over the little fellow’s foot. The next minute the ornamentation was completed by the thrusting on of the second anklet, and then Mark sprang up, while the rest looked on, some amused, the little blacks with their eyes full of wonderment and as if not comprehending this scene.“Now,” cried Mark, “let’s have another try;” and touching the gold rings one after the other, he said slowly, “Where—find?”The little chief looked at him questioningly, then at the rest of the white visitors, and turned to his followers, who looked at him blankly, all but the doctor’s patient, who, seated in his basket—as Dean afterwards said, as if he were for sale—whispered faintly a couple of words.“Can’t you understand?” said Mark, and he touched the gold band again and began a very effective pantomime, running here and there, peeping under the bushes, peering in between the trees, looking up, then down, in all directions, dropped upon one knee, to begin scratching up the sandy earth, which he took up in handfuls and turned over in his hands, and then shaking his head sadly he turned to the little black again, crying, “Can’t find any; can’t find any. The gold—the gold!”The little party of pigmies stared at him blankly, and then at each other.“Well done,” said the doctor. “Try again. Capital!”“No, no,” said Mark. “They will think I have gone mad.”“Yes,” said Dean, grinning.“Bah! That settles it; I won’t,” cried Mark. “Oh, I wish I knew what that little chap said!” For the doctor’s patient whispered something again, with the result that his little chief bounded towards Mark, touched his gold ornaments again, and then snatched his spear from a companion who had been holding it, and touched the two ferrules that were beneath the blade and at the end. These with almost lightning-like movements he touched with index finger, following up the act by touching the fillet and bangles, and then looking enquiringly in Mark’s eyes he uttered one word.“Yes,” cried Mark, at a venture. “Where do you get it?”The little fellow’s face lit up now with a smile, and drawing himself up he raised his spear and stood pointing right into the wood.“I think he understands now,” said the doctor. “Look; what does he mean by that?”For the little fellow in a series of gazelle-like leaps bounded to first one and then the other waggon, and came running back with his eyes flashing, to stand pointing as before right into the depths of the forest. This done, he made a mark in the sandy earth with the butt of his spear, and then walking backwards he drew a line as straight as he could for about fifty yards, keeping parallel with the edge of the forest, and ending by curving his line round till he reached the first trees.“What does he mean by that?” said Mark, as the little fellow came running back.“I think I know,” said Dean.“So do I,” cried Mark. “Here, Mak, what does this mean?”The black faced slowly to them from where he had been leaning against the tree watching as if amused, and raising his spear he walked importantly to the waggons, touching first one and then the other with his spear before turning and pointing right into the forest, and ending by drawing a similar line to that made by the little visitor.“Well, that’s plain enough,” said Mark excitedly. “I make it that the pigmy means that if we want to find the gold we must walk right round the other side of the forest; but Mak means that this is the way to find the big stones.”“Big—stones—kopje,” cried Mak, nodding his head sharply, and after pointing again with his spear he slowly described a semi-circle upon the earth.“Yes, I think you are right,” said Sir James. “At any rate, doctor, we may as well try.”“Certainly, sir,” said the doctor, laughing. “But it’s rather a queer way of learning our route. I agree with Mark, though, that both Mark and the pigmy mean the city, only the little fellow tries to tell us that we shall find the gold there, while Mak means the big stones.”“Big stones!” cried Mak sharply, as he caught the words. “Boss—find—big—stones;” and he waved his spear again after pointing towards the forest and then describing the route they must follow in the air.Mak watched the doctor eagerly, then turned to the little chief, said a word or two, and the little fellow passed on what was evidently an order to his followers, who began to move off, when a thought struck Mark and he caught the little chief by the arm and led him towards the second waggon.“Here, Dean,” he cried, “jump in and get those two new spare knives out of the fore chest. Look sharp. I’m afraid to leave go. This fellow’s all of a quiver with fright, and I am afraid he will bolt.”“All right,” was the reply, and leaving Mark and his prisoner waiting, the boy sprang up into the waggon, and came back with a couple of strongly made, buckhorn-handled, four-bladed pocket knives, one of which Mark slipped into his pocket, retaining the other in his hand.“You take my place,” he said, “and hold tight. Don’t let him go.”Then turning to the little black he began to open slowly first one and then another of the highly polished blades, which glittered in the sun, while without attempting to resist, the little fellow stared at him wildly, and it was easy to read his emotions in his twitching face.“Now, you see this?” said Mark, as holding out the knife close to their prisoner he snapped back first one and then two more of the shining blades, which went back into the haft with sharp snaps. Then taking a step to the nearest bush, with one sharp cut he took off a good-sized bough, returning to where the pigmy was watching him, trimming the piece of wood as he walked, and leaving the twigs besprinkling the ground.“There,” said Mark, as he closed the remaining blade, after wiping it carefully where it was moistened with sap, “I didn’t want to rob you of your gold rings, and you have been a very good little fellow, so that’s for you.”As he finished speaking he thrust the closed knife into the little chiefs hand, and then walked back with him to where the weak-looking little patient sat watching all that had gone on with wide open eyes.“Now,” cried Mark, patting him on the back; “make haste and get well. I don’t suppose I shall ever see you again. Be a good boy, and don’t go near lions. There’s a knife for you too. So toddle.”“What nonsense!” cried Dean. “Poor little chap! Doesn’t he wish he could!”The little fellow’s eyes twinkled as he took the knife which Mark held out to him and then good-naturedly opened all the blades and closed them again so that the receiver might fully understand the management of the wonderful instrument he had never seen before.“Now, Mak, start them off, and I hope we shall never see them again,” continued the boy, “for somehow or other I quite like that little fellow. He’s been so patient all through his suffering, and never hardly winced, when the doctor must have hurt him no end. I don’t mean like him as one would another boy, but as one would a good dog that had been hurt and which we had nursed back again to getting all right—that is, I mean,” continued the boy confusedly—“Oh, bother! Here, I don’t quite know what I do mean. Ah, there they go. I say, Dean, did you ever see such a rum little chap in your life, with his gold ornaments and ostrich feather? Shouldn’t you like to take him back with us to the manor?”“Yes—no—I don’t know,” said Dean. “Here, come on. They have all gone now, and there’s Dan waving his hand for us to come to breakfast.”“That’s right,” said Mark thoughtfully. “We understand; you needn’t shout. I say, Dean, we might as well have brought the old gong out of the hall. It would have done for dinner-bell if we had hung it outside the waggon, and been splendid to have scared the lions away.”

Dean Roche started in his excitement, for as his cousin spoke he saw that Mak, who had been waiting near, stood pointing with his spear at the little party of pigmies who were winding through the bushes and low growth at the forest edge, the little chief at their head, followed by four of his men bearing a couple of little antelopes swinging from spears, while behind them were two pigmies carrying what seemed to be a sort of creel, in which was their wounded fellow.

“I say, look!” cried Dean. “He must be better.”

“Go and tell the doctor, Mak,” said Mark, and then as Mak strode off, “I am glad they have come,” cried Dean.

“Yes. We must tell the doctor to look at the brass bangles,” said Mark.

“They are not brass,” cried Dean. “I am sure they are gold.”

The doctor came out, meeting the messenger, and Dan, who was on the watch, followed him with what was required.

The necessary attention to the wound followed, and the doctor quite excitedly pointed out with what wonderful rapidity the terrible injury was healing up.

“There,” he suddenly cried, turning to the little chief, who stood leaning upon his spear, “you need not bring your friend any more, for we are going away.”

The little fellow gazed up wonderingly in his eyes, and Mark burst out laughing.

“What does that mean?” cried the doctor sharply, but without moving his eyes from the pale yellow ring that encircled the pigmy’s brow. Then lowering his eyes he searchingly looked at the bangles on wrist and arm. “Do you hear what I said? What does that mean?” he asked.

“I was laughing at you for speaking so seriously,” said Mark. “He can’t understand a word.”

“Of course not,” said the doctor. “Why, Mark,” he cried, “I believe you are right, boy.”

“That it is not brass?” said Mark excitedly.

“That it is not brass,” replied the doctor. “Where can they obtain it?”

“Not in the woods, surely,” said Mark.

“Oh, here’s your father,” said the doctor, as Sir James came towards them from the waggon.

“Look at these bangles, sir,” continued the doctor, “and the band round this little fellow’s head. What do you say they are?”

Sir James looked at the yellow objects attentively.

“They cannot be brass,” he said decisively, “or in the moisture of that forest they would have tarnished. Why, boys, we didn’t come hunting for the precious metal, but we have found it, all the same.”

“Yes, there’s no doubt of it,” said the doctor. “Well, the ancients must have obtained plenty of gold somewhere, and they are supposed to have built a big city in this direction. I feel disposed to put these things together and to say that this city must exist, and that these little fellows must have found their gold ornaments somewhere there. What can we do to find out from them where they obtained the gold?”

“Ask them, sir,” said Mark.

“How?”

“I don’t know,” said Mark; “but I will try.”

“Well, go on,” said Sir James.

Mark looked doubtfully at his father for a few moments, and then turned his eyes upon his cousin, as if for help; but Dean only shook his head.

“Well, go on,” said the doctor.

“It is all very well to say, Go on, sir,” retorted Mark, “but it isn’t a Latin exercise, and it isn’t an equation. I don’t know how to begin.”

Then as a thought struck him he bent down to the little chief and touched his bangles and armlets, finishing off by placing a finger upon the thin ribbon-like band which bound his forehead.

The little fellow looked at him wonderingly as if he did not understand, and turning to the doctor’s patient he said a word or two in a questioning tone.

This was answered in almost a whisper of a couple of monosyllabic words, which resulted in the little chief slipping one wire bangle from his arm and handing it to Mark, the Illaka looking on attentively the while.

Mark shook his head, but the little fellow thrust the bangle into his hand and looked at him enquiringly.

“No, no,” said Mark, “I want to know where you get it.”

The words had no sooner passed the boy’s lips than the pigmy snatched off the fellow bangle from above his elbow, and held them both out.

“No, no, no,” replied Mark, “We—want—to—know—where—you—got—them.”

The little fellow laughed, stooped quickly, and took off the slender little anklets, holding now the four ornaments as if for the boy’s acceptance.

“No, no, I tell you,” cried Mark impetuously. “We don’t want to rob you;” and leaning forward he touched the slender pieces of gold with his finger and then the ribbon-like band that was half hidden amongst the little fellow’s crisp curls.

“Where—where did you get them?” cried Mark.

The pigmy wrinkled up his forehead, with a disappointed look, raised his hands to his head, looking at the boy reproachfully the while, hesitated, and then snatched off the band, held all five ornaments together and thrust them towards Mark, with his face overcast and frowning the while.

“Oh, I do wish I could talk to you,” cried Mark. “Here, Mak, can’t you say something?”

The tall black shook his head and half turned away.

“He doesn’t understand either,” said Dean. “Try dumb motions, Mark.”

“All right,” cried Mark, seizing the set of rings, small and large, and they jingled musically together, while the pigmy with a gloomy look picked up his ostrich feather, which had fallen to the ground, thrust it into his hair, and turned frowningly away.

“No, no; hold hard,” cried Mark merrily, and he prisoned the little fellow by the arm and twisted him round, making him look up in angry wonderment, and his eyes flashed resentment as Mark snatched the ostrich feather from out of his hair and stuck the quill end into one of the buttonholes of his flannel Norfolk jacket.

The little dark face before him was lined with creases, and the flashing eyes nearly closed, while as he stood unresistingly Mark replaced the band of gold—for gold it was—about his head, and then taking the ostrich feather from his breast he thrust the quill beneath the band so that it hung over on one side with quite a cock.

“There, he looks splendid now,” cried Mark, “only don’t look so fierce. Now then—right arm;” and seizing it the boy held it up, thrust one bangle over it and ran it up the pigmy’s plump little arm right above the elbow, till it was arrested by the tightened biceps.

He served the left arm in the same way, and then sinking on one knee he caught the sturdy little leg by the ankle, and holding one bangle out before him thrust it over the little fellow’s foot. The next minute the ornamentation was completed by the thrusting on of the second anklet, and then Mark sprang up, while the rest looked on, some amused, the little blacks with their eyes full of wonderment and as if not comprehending this scene.

“Now,” cried Mark, “let’s have another try;” and touching the gold rings one after the other, he said slowly, “Where—find?”

The little chief looked at him questioningly, then at the rest of the white visitors, and turned to his followers, who looked at him blankly, all but the doctor’s patient, who, seated in his basket—as Dean afterwards said, as if he were for sale—whispered faintly a couple of words.

“Can’t you understand?” said Mark, and he touched the gold band again and began a very effective pantomime, running here and there, peeping under the bushes, peering in between the trees, looking up, then down, in all directions, dropped upon one knee, to begin scratching up the sandy earth, which he took up in handfuls and turned over in his hands, and then shaking his head sadly he turned to the little black again, crying, “Can’t find any; can’t find any. The gold—the gold!”

The little party of pigmies stared at him blankly, and then at each other.

“Well done,” said the doctor. “Try again. Capital!”

“No, no,” said Mark. “They will think I have gone mad.”

“Yes,” said Dean, grinning.

“Bah! That settles it; I won’t,” cried Mark. “Oh, I wish I knew what that little chap said!” For the doctor’s patient whispered something again, with the result that his little chief bounded towards Mark, touched his gold ornaments again, and then snatched his spear from a companion who had been holding it, and touched the two ferrules that were beneath the blade and at the end. These with almost lightning-like movements he touched with index finger, following up the act by touching the fillet and bangles, and then looking enquiringly in Mark’s eyes he uttered one word.

“Yes,” cried Mark, at a venture. “Where do you get it?”

The little fellow’s face lit up now with a smile, and drawing himself up he raised his spear and stood pointing right into the wood.

“I think he understands now,” said the doctor. “Look; what does he mean by that?”

For the little fellow in a series of gazelle-like leaps bounded to first one and then the other waggon, and came running back with his eyes flashing, to stand pointing as before right into the depths of the forest. This done, he made a mark in the sandy earth with the butt of his spear, and then walking backwards he drew a line as straight as he could for about fifty yards, keeping parallel with the edge of the forest, and ending by curving his line round till he reached the first trees.

“What does he mean by that?” said Mark, as the little fellow came running back.

“I think I know,” said Dean.

“So do I,” cried Mark. “Here, Mak, what does this mean?”

The black faced slowly to them from where he had been leaning against the tree watching as if amused, and raising his spear he walked importantly to the waggons, touching first one and then the other with his spear before turning and pointing right into the forest, and ending by drawing a similar line to that made by the little visitor.

“Well, that’s plain enough,” said Mark excitedly. “I make it that the pigmy means that if we want to find the gold we must walk right round the other side of the forest; but Mak means that this is the way to find the big stones.”

“Big—stones—kopje,” cried Mak, nodding his head sharply, and after pointing again with his spear he slowly described a semi-circle upon the earth.

“Yes, I think you are right,” said Sir James. “At any rate, doctor, we may as well try.”

“Certainly, sir,” said the doctor, laughing. “But it’s rather a queer way of learning our route. I agree with Mark, though, that both Mark and the pigmy mean the city, only the little fellow tries to tell us that we shall find the gold there, while Mak means the big stones.”

“Big stones!” cried Mak sharply, as he caught the words. “Boss—find—big—stones;” and he waved his spear again after pointing towards the forest and then describing the route they must follow in the air.

Mak watched the doctor eagerly, then turned to the little chief, said a word or two, and the little fellow passed on what was evidently an order to his followers, who began to move off, when a thought struck Mark and he caught the little chief by the arm and led him towards the second waggon.

“Here, Dean,” he cried, “jump in and get those two new spare knives out of the fore chest. Look sharp. I’m afraid to leave go. This fellow’s all of a quiver with fright, and I am afraid he will bolt.”

“All right,” was the reply, and leaving Mark and his prisoner waiting, the boy sprang up into the waggon, and came back with a couple of strongly made, buckhorn-handled, four-bladed pocket knives, one of which Mark slipped into his pocket, retaining the other in his hand.

“You take my place,” he said, “and hold tight. Don’t let him go.”

Then turning to the little black he began to open slowly first one and then another of the highly polished blades, which glittered in the sun, while without attempting to resist, the little fellow stared at him wildly, and it was easy to read his emotions in his twitching face.

“Now, you see this?” said Mark, as holding out the knife close to their prisoner he snapped back first one and then two more of the shining blades, which went back into the haft with sharp snaps. Then taking a step to the nearest bush, with one sharp cut he took off a good-sized bough, returning to where the pigmy was watching him, trimming the piece of wood as he walked, and leaving the twigs besprinkling the ground.

“There,” said Mark, as he closed the remaining blade, after wiping it carefully where it was moistened with sap, “I didn’t want to rob you of your gold rings, and you have been a very good little fellow, so that’s for you.”

As he finished speaking he thrust the closed knife into the little chiefs hand, and then walked back with him to where the weak-looking little patient sat watching all that had gone on with wide open eyes.

“Now,” cried Mark, patting him on the back; “make haste and get well. I don’t suppose I shall ever see you again. Be a good boy, and don’t go near lions. There’s a knife for you too. So toddle.”

“What nonsense!” cried Dean. “Poor little chap! Doesn’t he wish he could!”

The little fellow’s eyes twinkled as he took the knife which Mark held out to him and then good-naturedly opened all the blades and closed them again so that the receiver might fully understand the management of the wonderful instrument he had never seen before.

“Now, Mak, start them off, and I hope we shall never see them again,” continued the boy, “for somehow or other I quite like that little fellow. He’s been so patient all through his suffering, and never hardly winced, when the doctor must have hurt him no end. I don’t mean like him as one would another boy, but as one would a good dog that had been hurt and which we had nursed back again to getting all right—that is, I mean,” continued the boy confusedly—“Oh, bother! Here, I don’t quite know what I do mean. Ah, there they go. I say, Dean, did you ever see such a rum little chap in your life, with his gold ornaments and ostrich feather? Shouldn’t you like to take him back with us to the manor?”

“Yes—no—I don’t know,” said Dean. “Here, come on. They have all gone now, and there’s Dan waving his hand for us to come to breakfast.”

“That’s right,” said Mark thoughtfully. “We understand; you needn’t shout. I say, Dean, we might as well have brought the old gong out of the hall. It would have done for dinner-bell if we had hung it outside the waggon, and been splendid to have scared the lions away.”

Chapter Twenty Three.Building the Zareba.“Compasses are fine things,” said Mark. “See, here we are with that little needle ready to spin one way or the other till it stands still without being shaken, and here it shows us exactly how we have been travelling along first to the south, then due west, and now here we are steadily going on to the north-west.”“That’s all very well at sea,” said Dean, “but here we are on land. Suppose that compass isn’t correct?”“There’s a sceptic!” cried Mark. “Why, doesn’t the sun rising and setting prove it to be all right? The needle always is correct unless it’s near iron.”“Or there is some natural cause to produce a variation,” said the doctor, who was listening to the boys’ remarks upon the pocket compass which he always carried. “We needn’t doubt it here.”“Then according to what you are showing, sir, in the fourteen days’ since those pigmies left us—”“No, we left them,” said Dean.“That’s not correct,” said Mark. “We stood still and saw them go into the forest, so they must have left us.”“But we left our camp directly afterwards,” said Dean, “and we have been travelling along by the edge of the forest ever since.”“There, don’t argue, boys,” said the doctor. “It’s quite evident that we have passed right round the forest and left it behind us, and I make it out that if instead of following the edge so as to be in the open where the bullocks could trek we could have walked straight through between the trees, we should have have been here long enough ago. Why, we are now about opposite to the pigmy settlement.”“What!” cried Mark. “Oh, I say, let’s stop and go in amongst the trees, and shout or cooey till we make them hear, and they will come and join us.”“That’s a likely idea,” said Dean derisively. “What a fellow he is, isn’t he, doctor? He’s been grumbling ever since he lost his pet pig.”“Well, I don’t care. I did like the little chap.”“Yes, just because you were nursing him and getting him better. Why, Mark, you are just like a great girl with a pet lamb.”“Oh, am I?” said Mark sourly.“Yes, that you are. She’s so fond of it because it’s so white and skips after her, and she ties blue ribbons round its neck and is as pleased as Punch to have it running after her, and crying ma-a-a-a-a!”“You just wait till the doctor’s gone off with father, and I’ll punch your head,” whispered Mark, as the doctor walked towards the waggon which they were following.“I don’t care; so you are,” said Dean; “and by-and-by the pretty little lamb grows up into a great, big, ugly, stupid-looking sheep good for nothing.”“Yes, it is—mutton.”“And that’s how it would be,” continued Dean, “with your pet savage. It would grow old and ugly, and a perfect nuisance, and be not so good as a sheep, because you could eat that, and even you wouldn’t care to turn into an anthropop—what’s his name?”“There, that’s just like you, Dean; you are always trying to use big ugly words that you can’t recollect the whole of. Anthropop what’s his name! Why can’t you say cannibal? Here, I will help you,” cried the boy mockingly. “Say anthropo-phagistically inclined.”“Oh, I say, don’t, Mark!” said Dean, laughing. “I am sure that’s given you a twist at the corners of your jaws.”Quite involuntarily Mark clapped his index fingers just beneath his ears as if his cousin’s words were true and he had felt a twinge, with the result that Dean burst out laughing.“There, go on. I don’t care about your grinning. All this travelling out here makes a fellow feel so jolly and happy. One goes to roost tired out, and is fast asleep directly, so that one wakes rested in the morning, with the air making one ready to dance and sing.”“Makes you hungry,” said Dean banteringly. “But why don’t you dance and sing? I should like to see you. Only tell me when you are going to begin and I will call our fellows up to look at you. I say, what a pity it is that we could not get the herd of little pigs to form a ring. I believe it would make the solemn-looking little chaps grin for once in their lives.”“Oh, go on,” cried Mark. “I’ll pocket all this and give it you back in some shape or another one of these days. It pleases you and it doesn’t hurt me; but all the same if we do come back this way I mean to stop when we get to our old camp, and then give the pigmies a call.”“No, don’t,” said Dean, “because if you do you will want me to go and take care of you, and no more forest, if you please.”Oddly enough that very evening when the compass said they were travelling due west, that is to say, right across the plain that now opened before them in the direction that Mak had pointed out as being the way to the big stones, and when the great forest lay looking as if sinking into a golden cloud far behind, something occurred.They had seen that they were now passing into the open country, for twice over a drove of antelopes had taken fright where they were grazing and dashed away, but the second time by means of careful stalking and taking advantage of the screen offered by scattered clumps of trees, the doctor and Sir James had both made a good addition to their larder.This change in the country, though it fully proved that they could secure an ample supply of provisions, and though their black guide when questioned had pointed to one of the kopjes or clumps of granite which sprinkled the plain as being where they would find water—brought with it a suggestion of danger.“Yes, gentlemen,” said Buck; “we shall have to be careful now, what my messmate Dan calls look out for squalls.”“Roaring squalls?” said Mark, laughing. “Yes, Mr Mark, sir, roaring squallers, who as soon as they scent us out will be full of the idee that we have come here on purpose to bring them a change of wittles.”“Oh, you mean that they are rather tired of venison and want to have beef.”“That’s right, Mr Mark, sir; and we can’t pay them out, because though they can eat my bullocks we can’t eat them.”“No, Buck, but we can pepper their hides and salt their skins.”“Pepper ’em, sir? We want to give them something stronger than that—some of the hard bullets you have got in the waggon. I have been having it over with black Mak, and he’s quite at home here and is on the look out for a place where we can build up what they calls a zareba of bushes and rock with a good fire inside. We mustn’t have another night like that last.”Just then Peter Dance and Bob Bacon came into sight, laden with a pretty good faggot of dry wood that they had hacked off, and which they secured to the tail of the second waggon ready for starting the cooking fire when they made camp.The men were intent upon their work; and each had a light billhook stuck behind him in his belt, and while Dance was readjusting his faggot his chopping tool nearly slipped out of where it was slightly stuck, while in trying to save it from falling, the keeper, who had quite forgotten his bruises, glanced for a moment in their direction.“I say, young gentlemen,” said the big driver, speaking from behind his hand, “warn’t it rum? It was just as if Peter felt that we were talking about him.”“What, about his letting the fire out?” said Mark. “Oh, we must forget that. I don’t believe he would ever do it again.”“I hope not, sir,” said Buck, and he swung himself along to overtake the waggon, giving his big whip a crack or two and his span of bullocks a few verbal admonitions to trek.“That will be a horrible bother,” said Dean, as the boys, rifle over shoulder, strode off a little to the right of the straight course so as to take their chance of anything that might spring up from one of the clumps of dwarf trees which were being avoided by the waggon drivers. For these carefully kept away from anything that might impede their progress, which was towards the first rocky eminence of any size they had seen, save on more distant hunting excursions, since they had left the forest behind.“What, building up a kraal, or zareba, as he called it?” said Mark.“Yes. You see, we shall be tired enough without having that to do. But it must be done.”But just at sundown the spot at which Mak had been aiming was reached. It was one of the regular kopjes of the African plains, but fairly verdant, being well furnished with dwarf trees and loose, rugged patches of rock that offered themselves for protection, while a gurgling source of water gushed out at the foot of the largest mass of granite, foamed away amongst the stones for about a hundred yards, forming several clear pools, and lost itself in a muddy, trampled little swamp which showed plenty of signs of being visited by the herds of antelope which roamed the veldt.One of the first things done was the making of a hurried survey of the kopje, Mak at once bending to his task of leading the travellers, rifle in hand, to the examination of every spot that suggested the possibility of its being used as a lair by any dangerous cat-like beast. But no lion sprang out, and there was nothing suggestive of danger till Mak led the searchers to where the stream spread out for a while before it sank down into the sand.Here there were plenty of traces of antelope of various kinds, their footprints showing out distinctly and indicating the ease with which a watcher could get a shot. But the next minute the thoughts of all were occupied by their guide stopping short and pointing out the plainly marked spoor of a lion.This, however, proved to be evidently of some days’ standing, but it was enough to add energy to the efforts made in having the waggons dragged up close to a mass of rock where they could form part of the protection needed and lessen the necessary labour in shutting in the beasts.Every man had his own work to do, and even with the extra toil of strengthening their camp it was not long before the fire was blazing well, the cattle grazing upon the rich grass in the neighbourhood of the pools, and their guide, being satisfied that they had no unpleasant neighbours, now beckoned to the boys and pointed to the highest portion of the granite kopje, suggesting that they should follow him and have a climb.The mass of granite, formed of huge, tumbled together blocks, was easily accessible, and the doctor followed them when they began to ascend, till the highest point was reached and they stood sweeping the vast expanse around which now lay plain in the beautifully limpid air.During the day a soft, hot haze had shut off the more distant objects, but now everything showed up refracted, so that the distant hillocks and clumps of trees seemed quite near, lit up by the soft glow left by the sun that was now below the horizon.Look in whatever direction they would, every object was in the fleeting minutes wonderfully clear. There lay in the direction from which they had come as far as their vision extended, the vast forest which they had skirted; in another direction all was plain; right and left open diversified land presenting easy passage for the waggons; and when in obedience to a sign from Mak they turned to gaze to the north-west, the black raised his spear and pointed in one direction, where the beautiful landscape seemed to come to an end in mass after mass of tumbled together rock, showing with vivid distinctness patches of woodland, deeply marked ravine that was filling fast with velvety purple shadow, and heaped up mass that as they gazed began gradually to grow less and less distinct, till that which at the first glance had stood out sharply clear and marked against the pale, golden sky began to die away till nothing was left, not even a shadow.The boys and the doctor had somehow been so impressed by the beauty of the scene that they spoke in whispers, Mark finding words just to say, “Oh, I wish father were here! I did ask him to come, but he wanted to rest.”“Yes,” said the doctor; “we have had a very long day. But how beautiful! How grand! We ought to stay up here till the stars come out.—Eh, what do you say, Mak?” as the man touched his shoulder and pointed again right away into the west.“All gone,” he said.“Yes, all gone,” said the doctor, using the black’s simple words.“Sunshine come again, ’morrow morning.”“Yes,” said the doctor thoughtfully, as he stood trying to pierce the soft transparent limpidity of the coming night. “Boys, we shall never forget this.”“Ah,” said the black, thumping down the haft of his spear upon the massive block where he had perched himself some two hundred feet above the plain. “Mak knows Mak’s big stones.”“What!” cried Mark excitedly. “Is that where the old city lies?”“Umps, yes,” said the black. “Mak big stones.”

“Compasses are fine things,” said Mark. “See, here we are with that little needle ready to spin one way or the other till it stands still without being shaken, and here it shows us exactly how we have been travelling along first to the south, then due west, and now here we are steadily going on to the north-west.”

“That’s all very well at sea,” said Dean, “but here we are on land. Suppose that compass isn’t correct?”

“There’s a sceptic!” cried Mark. “Why, doesn’t the sun rising and setting prove it to be all right? The needle always is correct unless it’s near iron.”

“Or there is some natural cause to produce a variation,” said the doctor, who was listening to the boys’ remarks upon the pocket compass which he always carried. “We needn’t doubt it here.”

“Then according to what you are showing, sir, in the fourteen days’ since those pigmies left us—”

“No, we left them,” said Dean.

“That’s not correct,” said Mark. “We stood still and saw them go into the forest, so they must have left us.”

“But we left our camp directly afterwards,” said Dean, “and we have been travelling along by the edge of the forest ever since.”

“There, don’t argue, boys,” said the doctor. “It’s quite evident that we have passed right round the forest and left it behind us, and I make it out that if instead of following the edge so as to be in the open where the bullocks could trek we could have walked straight through between the trees, we should have have been here long enough ago. Why, we are now about opposite to the pigmy settlement.”

“What!” cried Mark. “Oh, I say, let’s stop and go in amongst the trees, and shout or cooey till we make them hear, and they will come and join us.”

“That’s a likely idea,” said Dean derisively. “What a fellow he is, isn’t he, doctor? He’s been grumbling ever since he lost his pet pig.”

“Well, I don’t care. I did like the little chap.”

“Yes, just because you were nursing him and getting him better. Why, Mark, you are just like a great girl with a pet lamb.”

“Oh, am I?” said Mark sourly.

“Yes, that you are. She’s so fond of it because it’s so white and skips after her, and she ties blue ribbons round its neck and is as pleased as Punch to have it running after her, and crying ma-a-a-a-a!”

“You just wait till the doctor’s gone off with father, and I’ll punch your head,” whispered Mark, as the doctor walked towards the waggon which they were following.

“I don’t care; so you are,” said Dean; “and by-and-by the pretty little lamb grows up into a great, big, ugly, stupid-looking sheep good for nothing.”

“Yes, it is—mutton.”

“And that’s how it would be,” continued Dean, “with your pet savage. It would grow old and ugly, and a perfect nuisance, and be not so good as a sheep, because you could eat that, and even you wouldn’t care to turn into an anthropop—what’s his name?”

“There, that’s just like you, Dean; you are always trying to use big ugly words that you can’t recollect the whole of. Anthropop what’s his name! Why can’t you say cannibal? Here, I will help you,” cried the boy mockingly. “Say anthropo-phagistically inclined.”

“Oh, I say, don’t, Mark!” said Dean, laughing. “I am sure that’s given you a twist at the corners of your jaws.”

Quite involuntarily Mark clapped his index fingers just beneath his ears as if his cousin’s words were true and he had felt a twinge, with the result that Dean burst out laughing.

“There, go on. I don’t care about your grinning. All this travelling out here makes a fellow feel so jolly and happy. One goes to roost tired out, and is fast asleep directly, so that one wakes rested in the morning, with the air making one ready to dance and sing.”

“Makes you hungry,” said Dean banteringly. “But why don’t you dance and sing? I should like to see you. Only tell me when you are going to begin and I will call our fellows up to look at you. I say, what a pity it is that we could not get the herd of little pigs to form a ring. I believe it would make the solemn-looking little chaps grin for once in their lives.”

“Oh, go on,” cried Mark. “I’ll pocket all this and give it you back in some shape or another one of these days. It pleases you and it doesn’t hurt me; but all the same if we do come back this way I mean to stop when we get to our old camp, and then give the pigmies a call.”

“No, don’t,” said Dean, “because if you do you will want me to go and take care of you, and no more forest, if you please.”

Oddly enough that very evening when the compass said they were travelling due west, that is to say, right across the plain that now opened before them in the direction that Mak had pointed out as being the way to the big stones, and when the great forest lay looking as if sinking into a golden cloud far behind, something occurred.

They had seen that they were now passing into the open country, for twice over a drove of antelopes had taken fright where they were grazing and dashed away, but the second time by means of careful stalking and taking advantage of the screen offered by scattered clumps of trees, the doctor and Sir James had both made a good addition to their larder.

This change in the country, though it fully proved that they could secure an ample supply of provisions, and though their black guide when questioned had pointed to one of the kopjes or clumps of granite which sprinkled the plain as being where they would find water—brought with it a suggestion of danger.

“Yes, gentlemen,” said Buck; “we shall have to be careful now, what my messmate Dan calls look out for squalls.”

“Roaring squalls?” said Mark, laughing. “Yes, Mr Mark, sir, roaring squallers, who as soon as they scent us out will be full of the idee that we have come here on purpose to bring them a change of wittles.”

“Oh, you mean that they are rather tired of venison and want to have beef.”

“That’s right, Mr Mark, sir; and we can’t pay them out, because though they can eat my bullocks we can’t eat them.”

“No, Buck, but we can pepper their hides and salt their skins.”

“Pepper ’em, sir? We want to give them something stronger than that—some of the hard bullets you have got in the waggon. I have been having it over with black Mak, and he’s quite at home here and is on the look out for a place where we can build up what they calls a zareba of bushes and rock with a good fire inside. We mustn’t have another night like that last.”

Just then Peter Dance and Bob Bacon came into sight, laden with a pretty good faggot of dry wood that they had hacked off, and which they secured to the tail of the second waggon ready for starting the cooking fire when they made camp.

The men were intent upon their work; and each had a light billhook stuck behind him in his belt, and while Dance was readjusting his faggot his chopping tool nearly slipped out of where it was slightly stuck, while in trying to save it from falling, the keeper, who had quite forgotten his bruises, glanced for a moment in their direction.

“I say, young gentlemen,” said the big driver, speaking from behind his hand, “warn’t it rum? It was just as if Peter felt that we were talking about him.”

“What, about his letting the fire out?” said Mark. “Oh, we must forget that. I don’t believe he would ever do it again.”

“I hope not, sir,” said Buck, and he swung himself along to overtake the waggon, giving his big whip a crack or two and his span of bullocks a few verbal admonitions to trek.

“That will be a horrible bother,” said Dean, as the boys, rifle over shoulder, strode off a little to the right of the straight course so as to take their chance of anything that might spring up from one of the clumps of dwarf trees which were being avoided by the waggon drivers. For these carefully kept away from anything that might impede their progress, which was towards the first rocky eminence of any size they had seen, save on more distant hunting excursions, since they had left the forest behind.

“What, building up a kraal, or zareba, as he called it?” said Mark.

“Yes. You see, we shall be tired enough without having that to do. But it must be done.”

But just at sundown the spot at which Mak had been aiming was reached. It was one of the regular kopjes of the African plains, but fairly verdant, being well furnished with dwarf trees and loose, rugged patches of rock that offered themselves for protection, while a gurgling source of water gushed out at the foot of the largest mass of granite, foamed away amongst the stones for about a hundred yards, forming several clear pools, and lost itself in a muddy, trampled little swamp which showed plenty of signs of being visited by the herds of antelope which roamed the veldt.

One of the first things done was the making of a hurried survey of the kopje, Mak at once bending to his task of leading the travellers, rifle in hand, to the examination of every spot that suggested the possibility of its being used as a lair by any dangerous cat-like beast. But no lion sprang out, and there was nothing suggestive of danger till Mak led the searchers to where the stream spread out for a while before it sank down into the sand.

Here there were plenty of traces of antelope of various kinds, their footprints showing out distinctly and indicating the ease with which a watcher could get a shot. But the next minute the thoughts of all were occupied by their guide stopping short and pointing out the plainly marked spoor of a lion.

This, however, proved to be evidently of some days’ standing, but it was enough to add energy to the efforts made in having the waggons dragged up close to a mass of rock where they could form part of the protection needed and lessen the necessary labour in shutting in the beasts.

Every man had his own work to do, and even with the extra toil of strengthening their camp it was not long before the fire was blazing well, the cattle grazing upon the rich grass in the neighbourhood of the pools, and their guide, being satisfied that they had no unpleasant neighbours, now beckoned to the boys and pointed to the highest portion of the granite kopje, suggesting that they should follow him and have a climb.

The mass of granite, formed of huge, tumbled together blocks, was easily accessible, and the doctor followed them when they began to ascend, till the highest point was reached and they stood sweeping the vast expanse around which now lay plain in the beautifully limpid air.

During the day a soft, hot haze had shut off the more distant objects, but now everything showed up refracted, so that the distant hillocks and clumps of trees seemed quite near, lit up by the soft glow left by the sun that was now below the horizon.

Look in whatever direction they would, every object was in the fleeting minutes wonderfully clear. There lay in the direction from which they had come as far as their vision extended, the vast forest which they had skirted; in another direction all was plain; right and left open diversified land presenting easy passage for the waggons; and when in obedience to a sign from Mak they turned to gaze to the north-west, the black raised his spear and pointed in one direction, where the beautiful landscape seemed to come to an end in mass after mass of tumbled together rock, showing with vivid distinctness patches of woodland, deeply marked ravine that was filling fast with velvety purple shadow, and heaped up mass that as they gazed began gradually to grow less and less distinct, till that which at the first glance had stood out sharply clear and marked against the pale, golden sky began to die away till nothing was left, not even a shadow.

The boys and the doctor had somehow been so impressed by the beauty of the scene that they spoke in whispers, Mark finding words just to say, “Oh, I wish father were here! I did ask him to come, but he wanted to rest.”

“Yes,” said the doctor; “we have had a very long day. But how beautiful! How grand! We ought to stay up here till the stars come out.—Eh, what do you say, Mak?” as the man touched his shoulder and pointed again right away into the west.

“All gone,” he said.

“Yes, all gone,” said the doctor, using the black’s simple words.

“Sunshine come again, ’morrow morning.”

“Yes,” said the doctor thoughtfully, as he stood trying to pierce the soft transparent limpidity of the coming night. “Boys, we shall never forget this.”

“Ah,” said the black, thumping down the haft of his spear upon the massive block where he had perched himself some two hundred feet above the plain. “Mak knows Mak’s big stones.”

“What!” cried Mark excitedly. “Is that where the old city lies?”

“Umps, yes,” said the black. “Mak big stones.”

Chapter Twenty Four.“Don’t shoot, Father!”“Why, we are as snug here as can be,” said Dean.“Should be,” said Mark, “if it wasn’t for that fire.”For the night set in dark—a night which would have been of intense blackness but for the brilliant points of light that shone down like effulgent jewels spread upon a sky of the deepest purple dye.But it was light enough within the enclosure formed by the perpendicular patch of granite rock, the two waggons, and the dense mass of thorny faggots which had been gathered and built up so as to hedge them in.A goodly portion of the fourth opening into the little kraal was filled up by the large fire which was burning for the protection of the bullocks and ponies, and thoroughly lit up the camping place, but in return for its protection extorted the suffering from the heat, not only in front but reflected down from the rocks behind.“Yes,” said Dean, “it is rather a roaster. Couldn’t we let it out now?”“No,” said the doctor decisively. “I have just been outside to have a look round with Mak. We were only out for a few minutes, and the black caught me twice by the arm to listen.”“Well, did you hear anything?” said Mark.“Yes; lions.”The boy made a movement as if to reach his rifle.“You need not do that,” said the doctor, “for the sounds were distant. Still, lions travel fast, and we might have a visit at any time; so you see that you have an answer to your proposal about letting the fire out.”“Yes,” said Dean; “that settles it.”“Besides,” said the doctor, “we should not be any cooler if there were no fire.”“Oh–h–h!” said Mark, in a tone that suggested doubt.“Don’t be too sceptical, my boy,” said the doctor. “Let me prove it to you. Come a little nearer the fire.”The doctor had led the way, and together they stood so near to the glowing flames that they looked to those whom they left behind like a pair of figures cut out of black cloth.“Now,” said the doctor, “how do you feel?”“As if my face would be scorched if I stopped here.”“Nothing more?”“Oh, yes,” said Mark; “I feel quite a cool wind blowing into my neck.”“Exactly,” said the doctor. “As the heated air rises from the fire the cool air from the veldt rushes in to take its place. Why, don’t you remember when the haystack was on fire at the farm at home how we went to see it, walked close up, and felt the cold wind rushing towards the flames so that you had a stiff neck the next day?”“Of course! I had forgotten that,” said Mark, laughing. “Well, we must put up with the fire, I suppose.”The watch was set that night, and fell to the lot of Sir James, who took up his post near the fire, rifle in hand, while every man lay down with his piece by his side, for three times by sounds much nearer, the animals were made uneasy. The bullocks couched close to the trek-tow and the ponies stamped restlessly again and again from where they were haltered to one of the wheels inside the enclosure and close up to the granite wall.But in one case a deep growl from Buck Denham seemed to comfort the great sleek beasts, and a word or two in his highly pitched voice from Dunn Brown turned the ponies’ stamping into a gentle whinny.At last the only sounds within the walls of the kraal were the low whispering of the two boys.“How far is it to black Mak’s big stones, do you think?” said Mark.“Eh?” was the reply. “You heard what I said.”“That I didn’t!”“Then you were asleep. I thought you were.”“Nonsense!” said Dean indignantly. “I had only just lain down. What was it you said?”Mark laughed, to his cousin’s great annoyance. “I said, How far is it to black Mak’s big stones?”“A whole day’s journey.”“Nonsense! Why, this evening they looked quite near.”“Yes, but the doctor said that was the refraction.”“Well, I hope it will refract some of the gold when we get there,” said Mark. “I want to see what the place is like.”“We don’t want the gold,” said Dean. “Yes, we do. We should like to get some of it as curiosities. But oh, I say, doesn’t it seem like all pother about what the doctor said? There’s none of the cool air from the veldt coming in here under the waggon tilt.” Dean made no reply.“I shall never go to sleep in here like this. My hair’s getting quite wet. Isn’t yours?”Burrrr!“I say, Dean, don’t be so horribly wide awake. I can’t go to sleep if you are. Can you?”“Eh?”“Feel sleepy?” said Mark mockingly. “That I wasn’t. I wish you wouldn’t be so fond of trying to make jokes when we come to bed.”“Well, you can do as you like,” said Mark, laughing, “but I’m going to lie with my head outside in the air.”“Eh? Yes, it is hot,” said Dean, turning over. “I say, what are you doing?”“Getting up.”“What for? Can’t be morning yet.”“Oh, no,” said Mark, laughing; “not quite. Oh, what a fellow you are! There, rouse up and let me throw a blanket over the big chest, and when I have tied back the tilt we will lie with our heads out there, and perhaps we shall be able to breathe the cool air.”This proved to be the case, with the result that Dean went off to sleep instantly, while Mark kept dozing off and waking again with a start.At last, tired of the uneasy feeling that troubled him, he crept out from the tail end of the waggon and stood looking about the enclosure, where all was still save the heavy breathing of one of the ponies or that of the bullocks.“Phew!” sighed Mark. “What a hot night! Here, I know; I’ll go and see how the dad is getting on.”A few steps took him to where he could see his father’s face, the glow from the fire throwing it up and flashing from his eyes.“He is getting sunburnt,” thought the boy, and then, stepping out of the shadow cast by the waggon, he walked quickly towards the sentry of the night and began speaking aloud:“Don’t shoot, father!”“Why, Mark, my boy, what are you doing here? Have you heard anything?”“No, father; but I couldn’t sleep. Have you?”“I heard a lion once, with his deep barking roar, and there are several of those wretched jackals about. I am afraid we shall hear a good deal more of these noises out in the plain than we did close in the shelter of the forest. But don’t stop talking. Go back to sleep.”“But I can’t sleep, father,” said the boy reproachfully.“Nonsense! Try again. I daresay you will be able to go off now, after coming out and talking to me.”“But can’t I stay with you, father?” protested the boy.“No. You must have sleep, and if you don’t you will be uneasy to-morrow. What makes you so wakeful? Not going to be ill, are you?”“Oh, no, father; I’m quite well.”“Then go back to the waggon and lie down.”“Good-night, father.”“Good-night,” was the reply. “Ah, there’s another of those jackals. What a miserable note it is!”“Yes, father; but I think the hyaenas are worse,” said Mark eagerly.“Didn’t I tell you to go back to bed, sir!”“Yes, father, but—”“Then go.”“Bother!” muttered the boy, as he went off. “He might as well have let me stay. It would have been company for him.”Mark stepped on towards the dark side of the waggon, and continued muttering to himself till he raised his hand to the side of the great clumsy vehicle, placed a foot on one of the spokes, and was in the act of drawing himself up to climb in, but suddenly let himself drop back, for something leaped out of the interior of the waggon right over his cousin, reaching the earth with a dull thud, and darting away.“Whatever can that be?” said the boy excitedly, and with a catching of the breath.He felt his heart begin to pump heavily in his excitement.“It must have been one of those leopards, but it gave me no time to see what it was like. Here, Dean,” he whispered, as he climbed up and bent over his sleeping cousin. “Dean!”“Oh, bother!”“Don’t make a noise,” whispered Mark. “Wake up.”“Eh? Is it lions?”“No, no. Speak lower, or you will alarm the camp.”“Well, what do you want? You are always making me wake up when I have just dropped off to sleep. What is it?”“Hush! I have just been out to talk to father.”“Have you?” said Dean, half asleep again. “Wha’d he say?”“Never mind what he said,” whispered Mark, with his face close to his cousin’s ear.“I don’t.”“No, you don’t, of course, you sleepy head! Wake up.”Mark seized his cousin by the shoulders, raised his head, and let it fall down again with a bump on the blanket-covered box lid.“Oh, you brute!” began Dean, wide awake now.“Well, I didn’t mean to do it so hard; but do you want to lie here with wild things coming at you?”“Eh? No,” cried Dean, half rising up. “What do you mean?”“I mean I went out to talk to father—”“Well, yes, you said so before,” cried the boy pettishly; and he made as if to lay his head down again.“No, you don’t!” cried Mark, checking him. “Listen.”“I—can’t—lis’—I am so slee—”“Do you want to be eaten up by wild beasts?”“Eh? No,” cried Dean, fully awake now.“I came back to the waggon, and was just getting in when something came from behind you.”“What was it? Not a big snake?”“No, no. I thought it was a leopard, but I don’t think so now. I only just had a glimpse of it as it jumped out and dropped down at the end there, and scuttled off.”“Oh!” cried Dean excitedly. “A leopard?”“No,” whispered Mark. “It was one of those baboons.”“What baboons? I haven’t seen any baboons.”“No, no; but one of those that they say live in packs amongst the kopjes.”“Ugh!” ejaculated Dean. “I believe they bite horribly.”“Well, did you feel him bite?”“Of course not! If I had it would have woke me up.”“Oh, I don’t know,” said his cousin, laughing. “Well, at all events one of them must have got in here as soon as I had gone, and been making itself comfortable in my place.”“I say, I don’t like that,” said Dean. “You shouldn’t have gone.”“Well, I didn’t want to,” said Mark softly. “But I am glad we are not going to stay here, for though we did not see any, this must be one of the kopjes where the baboons live. I say, do you feel sleepy now?”“No, not a bit.”“Nor do I. Let’s lie still and talk. That will rest us, even if we don’t sleep, and, as father says, we want to be fresh to-morrow.”“All right,” said Dean, reaching for his rifle. “But let’s keep a sharp look out.”This they did for quite five minutes, and then so hardened were they to their outdoor life that their restful breathing was the only thing that disturbed the silence within the waggon, save a faint rustling at the other end, caused by the doctor turning over, for during the last few minutes he had been awakened from a deep sleep by the boys’ muttering, and now that they were quiet again he too went off soundly.It still wanted an hour to the coming of the first dawn when Mark started up.“Here—what—” he began, when a hand was clapped over his mouth and he felt Dean’s lip at his ear. “Don’t make a noise,” his cousin whispered. “What’s the matter? Has the ape been again?”“No. It wasn’t a baboon; it was one of those pigs.”“Bosh! A pig couldn’t climb into the waggon.”“No, no, stupid! Pigmy!”“What nonsense! You have been asleep again.”“Yes, fast; I couldn’t help it. So were you.”“Was I? Well, yes, I suppose I was; and I’m glad of it. But I have had a sensible sleep.”“Well, so have I, but—”“No, you haven’t. Mine was, for I didn’t get dreaming that I saw a baboon.”“And I didn’t either,” whispered Dean angrily. “I was asleep, but I woke up feeling a soft hand going over my face.”“Bah! You dreamt it.”“I didn’t, I tell you! I could feel it as plain as could be; and then it moved away from me, and I could just make out by the starlight that it was passing its hand over your face. Didn’t you feel it?”“No,” said Mark. “You can’t feel ghosts and dreams. They only seem.”“Ghosts and dreams!” said Dean impetuously.“Well, baboons, then—sleep baboons. Oh, I say, Dean, what’s coming to you? You used to be content with going to sleep like a top. But if you are going to begin having dreams like this I shall sleep under the waggon.”“Oh, you obstinate mule! Who said anything about baboons?”“Why, you did.”“I didn’t. I said it was one of those pigmies.”“Then you dreamt it. What time is it?”“I don’t know. Shall I strike a light?”“What, and wake the doctor? No, it would only make him grumpy at being roused for nothing. There, I can guess pretty closely. It wants over an hour to dawn. So here goes. I’m off.”As he spoke Mark wrenched himself round, turning his back to his cousin, and at the same time reached his face over so that he could breathe in the cool, soft breeze that comes just before the day, while Dean sighed and followed his example, both sleeping heavily till there was a sharp crack of a waggon whip, and they both started up, to utter almost together, “Hallo!”“Hallo!”And then they stared hard at each other over something else.

“Why, we are as snug here as can be,” said Dean.

“Should be,” said Mark, “if it wasn’t for that fire.”

For the night set in dark—a night which would have been of intense blackness but for the brilliant points of light that shone down like effulgent jewels spread upon a sky of the deepest purple dye.

But it was light enough within the enclosure formed by the perpendicular patch of granite rock, the two waggons, and the dense mass of thorny faggots which had been gathered and built up so as to hedge them in.

A goodly portion of the fourth opening into the little kraal was filled up by the large fire which was burning for the protection of the bullocks and ponies, and thoroughly lit up the camping place, but in return for its protection extorted the suffering from the heat, not only in front but reflected down from the rocks behind.

“Yes,” said Dean, “it is rather a roaster. Couldn’t we let it out now?”

“No,” said the doctor decisively. “I have just been outside to have a look round with Mak. We were only out for a few minutes, and the black caught me twice by the arm to listen.”

“Well, did you hear anything?” said Mark.

“Yes; lions.”

The boy made a movement as if to reach his rifle.

“You need not do that,” said the doctor, “for the sounds were distant. Still, lions travel fast, and we might have a visit at any time; so you see that you have an answer to your proposal about letting the fire out.”

“Yes,” said Dean; “that settles it.”

“Besides,” said the doctor, “we should not be any cooler if there were no fire.”

“Oh–h–h!” said Mark, in a tone that suggested doubt.

“Don’t be too sceptical, my boy,” said the doctor. “Let me prove it to you. Come a little nearer the fire.”

The doctor had led the way, and together they stood so near to the glowing flames that they looked to those whom they left behind like a pair of figures cut out of black cloth.

“Now,” said the doctor, “how do you feel?”

“As if my face would be scorched if I stopped here.”

“Nothing more?”

“Oh, yes,” said Mark; “I feel quite a cool wind blowing into my neck.”

“Exactly,” said the doctor. “As the heated air rises from the fire the cool air from the veldt rushes in to take its place. Why, don’t you remember when the haystack was on fire at the farm at home how we went to see it, walked close up, and felt the cold wind rushing towards the flames so that you had a stiff neck the next day?”

“Of course! I had forgotten that,” said Mark, laughing. “Well, we must put up with the fire, I suppose.”

The watch was set that night, and fell to the lot of Sir James, who took up his post near the fire, rifle in hand, while every man lay down with his piece by his side, for three times by sounds much nearer, the animals were made uneasy. The bullocks couched close to the trek-tow and the ponies stamped restlessly again and again from where they were haltered to one of the wheels inside the enclosure and close up to the granite wall.

But in one case a deep growl from Buck Denham seemed to comfort the great sleek beasts, and a word or two in his highly pitched voice from Dunn Brown turned the ponies’ stamping into a gentle whinny.

At last the only sounds within the walls of the kraal were the low whispering of the two boys.

“How far is it to black Mak’s big stones, do you think?” said Mark.

“Eh?” was the reply. “You heard what I said.”

“That I didn’t!”

“Then you were asleep. I thought you were.”

“Nonsense!” said Dean indignantly. “I had only just lain down. What was it you said?”

Mark laughed, to his cousin’s great annoyance. “I said, How far is it to black Mak’s big stones?”

“A whole day’s journey.”

“Nonsense! Why, this evening they looked quite near.”

“Yes, but the doctor said that was the refraction.”

“Well, I hope it will refract some of the gold when we get there,” said Mark. “I want to see what the place is like.”

“We don’t want the gold,” said Dean. “Yes, we do. We should like to get some of it as curiosities. But oh, I say, doesn’t it seem like all pother about what the doctor said? There’s none of the cool air from the veldt coming in here under the waggon tilt.” Dean made no reply.

“I shall never go to sleep in here like this. My hair’s getting quite wet. Isn’t yours?”

Burrrr!

“I say, Dean, don’t be so horribly wide awake. I can’t go to sleep if you are. Can you?”

“Eh?”

“Feel sleepy?” said Mark mockingly. “That I wasn’t. I wish you wouldn’t be so fond of trying to make jokes when we come to bed.”

“Well, you can do as you like,” said Mark, laughing, “but I’m going to lie with my head outside in the air.”

“Eh? Yes, it is hot,” said Dean, turning over. “I say, what are you doing?”

“Getting up.”

“What for? Can’t be morning yet.”

“Oh, no,” said Mark, laughing; “not quite. Oh, what a fellow you are! There, rouse up and let me throw a blanket over the big chest, and when I have tied back the tilt we will lie with our heads out there, and perhaps we shall be able to breathe the cool air.”

This proved to be the case, with the result that Dean went off to sleep instantly, while Mark kept dozing off and waking again with a start.

At last, tired of the uneasy feeling that troubled him, he crept out from the tail end of the waggon and stood looking about the enclosure, where all was still save the heavy breathing of one of the ponies or that of the bullocks.

“Phew!” sighed Mark. “What a hot night! Here, I know; I’ll go and see how the dad is getting on.”

A few steps took him to where he could see his father’s face, the glow from the fire throwing it up and flashing from his eyes.

“He is getting sunburnt,” thought the boy, and then, stepping out of the shadow cast by the waggon, he walked quickly towards the sentry of the night and began speaking aloud:

“Don’t shoot, father!”

“Why, Mark, my boy, what are you doing here? Have you heard anything?”

“No, father; but I couldn’t sleep. Have you?”

“I heard a lion once, with his deep barking roar, and there are several of those wretched jackals about. I am afraid we shall hear a good deal more of these noises out in the plain than we did close in the shelter of the forest. But don’t stop talking. Go back to sleep.”

“But I can’t sleep, father,” said the boy reproachfully.

“Nonsense! Try again. I daresay you will be able to go off now, after coming out and talking to me.”

“But can’t I stay with you, father?” protested the boy.

“No. You must have sleep, and if you don’t you will be uneasy to-morrow. What makes you so wakeful? Not going to be ill, are you?”

“Oh, no, father; I’m quite well.”

“Then go back to the waggon and lie down.”

“Good-night, father.”

“Good-night,” was the reply. “Ah, there’s another of those jackals. What a miserable note it is!”

“Yes, father; but I think the hyaenas are worse,” said Mark eagerly.

“Didn’t I tell you to go back to bed, sir!”

“Yes, father, but—”

“Then go.”

“Bother!” muttered the boy, as he went off. “He might as well have let me stay. It would have been company for him.”

Mark stepped on towards the dark side of the waggon, and continued muttering to himself till he raised his hand to the side of the great clumsy vehicle, placed a foot on one of the spokes, and was in the act of drawing himself up to climb in, but suddenly let himself drop back, for something leaped out of the interior of the waggon right over his cousin, reaching the earth with a dull thud, and darting away.

“Whatever can that be?” said the boy excitedly, and with a catching of the breath.

He felt his heart begin to pump heavily in his excitement.

“It must have been one of those leopards, but it gave me no time to see what it was like. Here, Dean,” he whispered, as he climbed up and bent over his sleeping cousin. “Dean!”

“Oh, bother!”

“Don’t make a noise,” whispered Mark. “Wake up.”

“Eh? Is it lions?”

“No, no. Speak lower, or you will alarm the camp.”

“Well, what do you want? You are always making me wake up when I have just dropped off to sleep. What is it?”

“Hush! I have just been out to talk to father.”

“Have you?” said Dean, half asleep again. “Wha’d he say?”

“Never mind what he said,” whispered Mark, with his face close to his cousin’s ear.

“I don’t.”

“No, you don’t, of course, you sleepy head! Wake up.”

Mark seized his cousin by the shoulders, raised his head, and let it fall down again with a bump on the blanket-covered box lid.

“Oh, you brute!” began Dean, wide awake now.

“Well, I didn’t mean to do it so hard; but do you want to lie here with wild things coming at you?”

“Eh? No,” cried Dean, half rising up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I went out to talk to father—”

“Well, yes, you said so before,” cried the boy pettishly; and he made as if to lay his head down again.

“No, you don’t!” cried Mark, checking him. “Listen.”

“I—can’t—lis’—I am so slee—”

“Do you want to be eaten up by wild beasts?”

“Eh? No,” cried Dean, fully awake now.

“I came back to the waggon, and was just getting in when something came from behind you.”

“What was it? Not a big snake?”

“No, no. I thought it was a leopard, but I don’t think so now. I only just had a glimpse of it as it jumped out and dropped down at the end there, and scuttled off.”

“Oh!” cried Dean excitedly. “A leopard?”

“No,” whispered Mark. “It was one of those baboons.”

“What baboons? I haven’t seen any baboons.”

“No, no; but one of those that they say live in packs amongst the kopjes.”

“Ugh!” ejaculated Dean. “I believe they bite horribly.”

“Well, did you feel him bite?”

“Of course not! If I had it would have woke me up.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said his cousin, laughing. “Well, at all events one of them must have got in here as soon as I had gone, and been making itself comfortable in my place.”

“I say, I don’t like that,” said Dean. “You shouldn’t have gone.”

“Well, I didn’t want to,” said Mark softly. “But I am glad we are not going to stay here, for though we did not see any, this must be one of the kopjes where the baboons live. I say, do you feel sleepy now?”

“No, not a bit.”

“Nor do I. Let’s lie still and talk. That will rest us, even if we don’t sleep, and, as father says, we want to be fresh to-morrow.”

“All right,” said Dean, reaching for his rifle. “But let’s keep a sharp look out.”

This they did for quite five minutes, and then so hardened were they to their outdoor life that their restful breathing was the only thing that disturbed the silence within the waggon, save a faint rustling at the other end, caused by the doctor turning over, for during the last few minutes he had been awakened from a deep sleep by the boys’ muttering, and now that they were quiet again he too went off soundly.

It still wanted an hour to the coming of the first dawn when Mark started up.

“Here—what—” he began, when a hand was clapped over his mouth and he felt Dean’s lip at his ear. “Don’t make a noise,” his cousin whispered. “What’s the matter? Has the ape been again?”

“No. It wasn’t a baboon; it was one of those pigs.”

“Bosh! A pig couldn’t climb into the waggon.”

“No, no, stupid! Pigmy!”

“What nonsense! You have been asleep again.”

“Yes, fast; I couldn’t help it. So were you.”

“Was I? Well, yes, I suppose I was; and I’m glad of it. But I have had a sensible sleep.”

“Well, so have I, but—”

“No, you haven’t. Mine was, for I didn’t get dreaming that I saw a baboon.”

“And I didn’t either,” whispered Dean angrily. “I was asleep, but I woke up feeling a soft hand going over my face.”

“Bah! You dreamt it.”

“I didn’t, I tell you! I could feel it as plain as could be; and then it moved away from me, and I could just make out by the starlight that it was passing its hand over your face. Didn’t you feel it?”

“No,” said Mark. “You can’t feel ghosts and dreams. They only seem.”

“Ghosts and dreams!” said Dean impetuously.

“Well, baboons, then—sleep baboons. Oh, I say, Dean, what’s coming to you? You used to be content with going to sleep like a top. But if you are going to begin having dreams like this I shall sleep under the waggon.”

“Oh, you obstinate mule! Who said anything about baboons?”

“Why, you did.”

“I didn’t. I said it was one of those pigmies.”

“Then you dreamt it. What time is it?”

“I don’t know. Shall I strike a light?”

“What, and wake the doctor? No, it would only make him grumpy at being roused for nothing. There, I can guess pretty closely. It wants over an hour to dawn. So here goes. I’m off.”

As he spoke Mark wrenched himself round, turning his back to his cousin, and at the same time reached his face over so that he could breathe in the cool, soft breeze that comes just before the day, while Dean sighed and followed his example, both sleeping heavily till there was a sharp crack of a waggon whip, and they both started up, to utter almost together, “Hallo!”

“Hallo!”

And then they stared hard at each other over something else.

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