Chapter Twenty One.

Chapter Twenty One.A Baboon Hunt.Towards morning Clarence broke out into a lavish perspiration during Ned’s watch. The moisture poured from him like rain for about half an hour, after which he sank into a more refreshing sleep.Ned during this time kept him well rolled up in furs, after which he rubbed him dry and covered him lightly, giving him at the same time about a tablespoonful of brandy. When he woke in the morning he was clear-skinned, hungry, and better. After a hearty breakfast, they once more continued their journey.They did not progress very fast, as they had to cut through the tangle, yet, to their joy, they found that they were ascending to loftier ground each step they took, also that the torrent kept beside them.After about six hours of this steady upward marching, the undergrowth became thinner and the ground more solid. At places they had to climb over moss-covered rocks, which jutted from the earth. The tendrils, also, were not so thick, nor the tree-trunks so great in girth.That night they pitched their camp at an elevation of over four hundred feet from where they had lain the night before. The forest was still dense, but there were greater spaces between the trunks.“We are approaching the open!” cried Ned, exultantly. “Tomorrow, perhaps, we may see the sun.”A herd of koodoo dashed past them up the hill, followed by a pair of large leopards, and in their rear a pack of spotted hyenas also coursed along.They fired at random into the koodoo, and brought down four. The second volley killed one of the leopards and wounded the other, who, however, made his escape, carrying with him one of the antelopes, while the evil-smelling jackals disappeared with savage yelps.There was a succulent supper that night, which all devoured eagerly, as they were hungrier than they had been for some days past.Next morning they rose all in a healthy and energetic condition. The usual thick fog was absent, and the green looked lighter which spread around them. All about them the winged insect and feathered world seemed more full of life and pleasure.They were going up the sides of a decided hill now. By-and-by it got so stiff that they were forced to drag themselves up by gripping the creepers that spread over and barred the way.The torrent was now a series of cascades as it bounded from ledge to ledge a swirling mass of foam. At times they lost sight of it altogether.They were toiling over an upward spread of forest-clad terraces. When they reached one ridge, they found several yards of gentle slope, or even level ground, with a jutting out of boulders to be surmounted after these spaces were crossed. Still they were hemmed closely in with vegetation, and could only see a few feet ahead of them.All at once they came to a kind of clearing, where the undergrowth was trampled down and the tendrils roughly broken asunder.“Big man-monkey live about here,” said Cocoeni, as he looked about him carefully.In front of them were several gaping avenues amongst the undergrowth. Ned decided on keeping to one that went in the direction his compass pointed to.They went upwards now cautiously, making as little noise as they could. There was no occasion to use their axes, as the baboon-path was wide enough for them to pass through in single file.Cocoeni and two of the hunters went first, and some feet in advance of the others. All were on the alert, with their guns ready and their hearts beating with suppressed excitement. Not a word was spoken. They even held their breaths as much as possible, and took care not to make any rustling with their feet.This was new game to our heroes, and they were trembling with eagerness. They crossed several of these open spaces as they scrambled up the heights.Before entering these, Cocoeni scrutinised them cautiously and keenly, while those behind waited on the result. Until he entered they stood still and mute as statues. The only sound they could hear as they stood and listened was the loud-sounding and tumultuous rushing of the torrent. This being close on their left, although hidden, seemed to deaden all other sounds.At the fringe of the fifth opening Cocoeni suddenly drew back, and held up his hand as a signal for them to advance carefully.One by one they crept up until they were able to see what he was looking at.A strange, weird, yet singularly human-like and domestic picture met their gaze.At the root of a huge tree squatted the most diabolic-looking mother-ape nursing her baby at her hairy breast. She was a gigantic creature, with the most villainous-looking face that our heroes thought they had ever looked upon.Yet there was an expression of grotesque tenderness and sentiment upon that dreadful visage as she looked down at her hideous youngster, that was half pathetic and half ludicrous. One hairy arm was holding the young ape up, while the other paw was gently stroking its face as any human mother might have done when similarly occupied.But if she was frightful to look at, her mate, who sat at her side and also watched his offspring with paternal complacency, was the most awful and devilish monster that the imagination could conjure up as a nightmare.There was nothing ridiculous about him, but a combination of all that was revolting, bestial, and terrifying.His flat forehead and pent brows; his dreadful jaws, which were slightly open in a senile kind of leer that exhibited his fangs; his shapeless, bulging paunch, short legs, deep chest, and long arms covered with dingy-looking hair,—he looked the embodiment of brutality, loathsome ugliness, and ferocious strength.The first glance made them shiver with horror, the second filled them with the desire to kill this half-human, wholly fiend-like monstrosity.The tree under which this awful group sat grew on the edge of a precipice, while in front of them the torrent could be seen and heard as it fell into the chasm, with a sound like thunder, from a lofty cliff. With that thundering in their ears, and the vibration of the covered rocks under their feet, they did not fear being heard by the brutes in front of them, Cocoeni made a silent sign, and the hunters crept through the leafage to make a half-circle round the still unconscious family party. While they were doing this, he drew back and whispered to Ned—“Don’t shoot till I give you the sign. I know how to manage this fellow.”“So do I,” replied Ned—“from what I have read.”“All right. Now for him.”Cocoeni stepped into the open, holding his gun ready, while our heroes followed him. They knew that they must kill with the first shot or it would be all over with them.Neither of the baboons had heard them, but they had got the scent of the other hunters, and looked up sniffing the air suspiciously.In a moment the male baboon saw his foes, and scrambled upright, fixing his wicked and ferocious eyes upon them. With a roar that eclipsed the thunder of the waterfall and echoed horribly in their ears, he opened his jaws, and grinned on them, showing all his teeth.A tremor passed over them, and for a moment unnerved them—he was so horribly like an exaggerated Kruger as he stood there glaring at them.He gallantly waddled in front of his wife and child, covering them with his ponderous body, while she sat still and waited. This action on his part the young men could not but admire.With another fierce roar he stopped, and beat upon his stomach with both hands until it sounded like a big drum. He was getting ready for the fight, and bidding defiance to them.Three more paces did he advance, then he once more stood still, and made the forest resound with his cries and drum-beating; then he threw his arms out, and crouched ready for the spring. He was about two yards’ distance from them by this time.“Fire!” shouted Cocoeni.Two rifles belched out at the same moment. Ned and Fred had fired off, while Cocoeni and Clarence stood ready.The monster flung up its arms and fell on his face without a moan. He had been pierced through the heart and lungs.The mother, when she saw what had befallen her mate, did not attempt to escape. She looked at the prostrate body stupidly for a moment; then, as if suddenly realising the disaster, she placed her baby on the ground, and rose, as the male had done, to her feet with a barking roar.Ned and Fred meanwhile had fallen back a pace, and put another cartridge into their weapons. They were cool now that they had succeeded in their first shot.She repeated the tactics of the male, only moved more actively, not giving them so much time to aim.But their shots told all the same, even if she did not die so rapidly. With a shriek she fell forward, after she was shot, on to the body of her mate, and there she lay moaning and gasping piteously.Our heroes were transfixed with horror at this death-struggle. It almost felt as if they had committed murder. With her life-blood streaming out, the mother made a frantic endeavour to cover and protect her little one, who had run whimpering over to her. She half turned, and got one hairy arm round it, hiding it on her bosom, all the while those human-like moans and gasps broke from her.But the struggle was short. Even while Ned was aiming to finish her off, Cocoeni gripped his arm.“No use wasting bullets, baas. She is dead.”Yes; the arm suddenly relaxed its maternal hold, while the moans and groaning ceased. Only the baby remained. Ned would fain have spared the little one, but the hunters were round it by this time, and it was fighting tooth and nail to resist them. Before our heroes were able to reach it, one of the men had plunged his spear ruthlessly through its body, and pinned it to the ground. With a series of shrill and plaintive cries, it writhed for a moment, then closed its little eyes, and was suddenly still.“I don’t care much for baboon-hunting,” said Ned, with a shudder, as he turned away, feeling sickish. “I hope we don’t meet any more.”“So do I,” echoed Fred and Clarence, hoarsely.“If we had missed that fellow, you would have seen nothing more in this world,” answered Cocoeni, deeply and sarcastically.“Let us get on,” commanded Ned, shortly.Then, taking up their loads, they resumed their upward course.It was some hours before they could feel comfortable in their minds after that battue—that is, our heroes. The Kaffirs felt and showed no emotion whatever. Our heroes, however, walked silently and thoughtfully through the greater portion of that day, and when they camped that night, their prayers somehow did not give them the usual satisfaction. They felt as if they had assisted at a needless and cowardly massacre, and as if they merited punishment for committing an unworthy crime. They would have liked to have asked forgiveness for this action.Yet these were merely beasts who must have disputed their passage, soulless monstrosities, for whom it seemed ridiculous to feel pity. The first and second they had killed in self-defence.But the baby—ah, that was what lay so heavy on their consciences!“I don’t mind the old man one bit,” murmured Ned, as he tossed about. “He was too much like President Kruger for me to let him live, when I saw my chance to wipe him off. He may have had some virtues—as Kruger may have. They both appear to be fond of their own, and willing to fight for them; but that wretched pup—I wish I could forget it.”Events shortly banished this painful episode from the minds of these brave adventurers, and the jackals would soon remove the traces from the earth. Like the leaves of the forest, the lives of men and animals are trifles of no more consideration than the shadow that crosses a sundial and marks the hour.

Towards morning Clarence broke out into a lavish perspiration during Ned’s watch. The moisture poured from him like rain for about half an hour, after which he sank into a more refreshing sleep.

Ned during this time kept him well rolled up in furs, after which he rubbed him dry and covered him lightly, giving him at the same time about a tablespoonful of brandy. When he woke in the morning he was clear-skinned, hungry, and better. After a hearty breakfast, they once more continued their journey.

They did not progress very fast, as they had to cut through the tangle, yet, to their joy, they found that they were ascending to loftier ground each step they took, also that the torrent kept beside them.

After about six hours of this steady upward marching, the undergrowth became thinner and the ground more solid. At places they had to climb over moss-covered rocks, which jutted from the earth. The tendrils, also, were not so thick, nor the tree-trunks so great in girth.

That night they pitched their camp at an elevation of over four hundred feet from where they had lain the night before. The forest was still dense, but there were greater spaces between the trunks.

“We are approaching the open!” cried Ned, exultantly. “Tomorrow, perhaps, we may see the sun.”

A herd of koodoo dashed past them up the hill, followed by a pair of large leopards, and in their rear a pack of spotted hyenas also coursed along.

They fired at random into the koodoo, and brought down four. The second volley killed one of the leopards and wounded the other, who, however, made his escape, carrying with him one of the antelopes, while the evil-smelling jackals disappeared with savage yelps.

There was a succulent supper that night, which all devoured eagerly, as they were hungrier than they had been for some days past.

Next morning they rose all in a healthy and energetic condition. The usual thick fog was absent, and the green looked lighter which spread around them. All about them the winged insect and feathered world seemed more full of life and pleasure.

They were going up the sides of a decided hill now. By-and-by it got so stiff that they were forced to drag themselves up by gripping the creepers that spread over and barred the way.

The torrent was now a series of cascades as it bounded from ledge to ledge a swirling mass of foam. At times they lost sight of it altogether.

They were toiling over an upward spread of forest-clad terraces. When they reached one ridge, they found several yards of gentle slope, or even level ground, with a jutting out of boulders to be surmounted after these spaces were crossed. Still they were hemmed closely in with vegetation, and could only see a few feet ahead of them.

All at once they came to a kind of clearing, where the undergrowth was trampled down and the tendrils roughly broken asunder.

“Big man-monkey live about here,” said Cocoeni, as he looked about him carefully.

In front of them were several gaping avenues amongst the undergrowth. Ned decided on keeping to one that went in the direction his compass pointed to.

They went upwards now cautiously, making as little noise as they could. There was no occasion to use their axes, as the baboon-path was wide enough for them to pass through in single file.

Cocoeni and two of the hunters went first, and some feet in advance of the others. All were on the alert, with their guns ready and their hearts beating with suppressed excitement. Not a word was spoken. They even held their breaths as much as possible, and took care not to make any rustling with their feet.

This was new game to our heroes, and they were trembling with eagerness. They crossed several of these open spaces as they scrambled up the heights.

Before entering these, Cocoeni scrutinised them cautiously and keenly, while those behind waited on the result. Until he entered they stood still and mute as statues. The only sound they could hear as they stood and listened was the loud-sounding and tumultuous rushing of the torrent. This being close on their left, although hidden, seemed to deaden all other sounds.

At the fringe of the fifth opening Cocoeni suddenly drew back, and held up his hand as a signal for them to advance carefully.

One by one they crept up until they were able to see what he was looking at.

A strange, weird, yet singularly human-like and domestic picture met their gaze.

At the root of a huge tree squatted the most diabolic-looking mother-ape nursing her baby at her hairy breast. She was a gigantic creature, with the most villainous-looking face that our heroes thought they had ever looked upon.

Yet there was an expression of grotesque tenderness and sentiment upon that dreadful visage as she looked down at her hideous youngster, that was half pathetic and half ludicrous. One hairy arm was holding the young ape up, while the other paw was gently stroking its face as any human mother might have done when similarly occupied.

But if she was frightful to look at, her mate, who sat at her side and also watched his offspring with paternal complacency, was the most awful and devilish monster that the imagination could conjure up as a nightmare.

There was nothing ridiculous about him, but a combination of all that was revolting, bestial, and terrifying.

His flat forehead and pent brows; his dreadful jaws, which were slightly open in a senile kind of leer that exhibited his fangs; his shapeless, bulging paunch, short legs, deep chest, and long arms covered with dingy-looking hair,—he looked the embodiment of brutality, loathsome ugliness, and ferocious strength.

The first glance made them shiver with horror, the second filled them with the desire to kill this half-human, wholly fiend-like monstrosity.

The tree under which this awful group sat grew on the edge of a precipice, while in front of them the torrent could be seen and heard as it fell into the chasm, with a sound like thunder, from a lofty cliff. With that thundering in their ears, and the vibration of the covered rocks under their feet, they did not fear being heard by the brutes in front of them, Cocoeni made a silent sign, and the hunters crept through the leafage to make a half-circle round the still unconscious family party. While they were doing this, he drew back and whispered to Ned—

“Don’t shoot till I give you the sign. I know how to manage this fellow.”

“So do I,” replied Ned—“from what I have read.”

“All right. Now for him.”

Cocoeni stepped into the open, holding his gun ready, while our heroes followed him. They knew that they must kill with the first shot or it would be all over with them.

Neither of the baboons had heard them, but they had got the scent of the other hunters, and looked up sniffing the air suspiciously.

In a moment the male baboon saw his foes, and scrambled upright, fixing his wicked and ferocious eyes upon them. With a roar that eclipsed the thunder of the waterfall and echoed horribly in their ears, he opened his jaws, and grinned on them, showing all his teeth.

A tremor passed over them, and for a moment unnerved them—he was so horribly like an exaggerated Kruger as he stood there glaring at them.

He gallantly waddled in front of his wife and child, covering them with his ponderous body, while she sat still and waited. This action on his part the young men could not but admire.

With another fierce roar he stopped, and beat upon his stomach with both hands until it sounded like a big drum. He was getting ready for the fight, and bidding defiance to them.

Three more paces did he advance, then he once more stood still, and made the forest resound with his cries and drum-beating; then he threw his arms out, and crouched ready for the spring. He was about two yards’ distance from them by this time.

“Fire!” shouted Cocoeni.

Two rifles belched out at the same moment. Ned and Fred had fired off, while Cocoeni and Clarence stood ready.

The monster flung up its arms and fell on his face without a moan. He had been pierced through the heart and lungs.

The mother, when she saw what had befallen her mate, did not attempt to escape. She looked at the prostrate body stupidly for a moment; then, as if suddenly realising the disaster, she placed her baby on the ground, and rose, as the male had done, to her feet with a barking roar.

Ned and Fred meanwhile had fallen back a pace, and put another cartridge into their weapons. They were cool now that they had succeeded in their first shot.

She repeated the tactics of the male, only moved more actively, not giving them so much time to aim.

But their shots told all the same, even if she did not die so rapidly. With a shriek she fell forward, after she was shot, on to the body of her mate, and there she lay moaning and gasping piteously.

Our heroes were transfixed with horror at this death-struggle. It almost felt as if they had committed murder. With her life-blood streaming out, the mother made a frantic endeavour to cover and protect her little one, who had run whimpering over to her. She half turned, and got one hairy arm round it, hiding it on her bosom, all the while those human-like moans and gasps broke from her.

But the struggle was short. Even while Ned was aiming to finish her off, Cocoeni gripped his arm.

“No use wasting bullets, baas. She is dead.”

Yes; the arm suddenly relaxed its maternal hold, while the moans and groaning ceased. Only the baby remained. Ned would fain have spared the little one, but the hunters were round it by this time, and it was fighting tooth and nail to resist them. Before our heroes were able to reach it, one of the men had plunged his spear ruthlessly through its body, and pinned it to the ground. With a series of shrill and plaintive cries, it writhed for a moment, then closed its little eyes, and was suddenly still.

“I don’t care much for baboon-hunting,” said Ned, with a shudder, as he turned away, feeling sickish. “I hope we don’t meet any more.”

“So do I,” echoed Fred and Clarence, hoarsely.

“If we had missed that fellow, you would have seen nothing more in this world,” answered Cocoeni, deeply and sarcastically.

“Let us get on,” commanded Ned, shortly.

Then, taking up their loads, they resumed their upward course.

It was some hours before they could feel comfortable in their minds after that battue—that is, our heroes. The Kaffirs felt and showed no emotion whatever. Our heroes, however, walked silently and thoughtfully through the greater portion of that day, and when they camped that night, their prayers somehow did not give them the usual satisfaction. They felt as if they had assisted at a needless and cowardly massacre, and as if they merited punishment for committing an unworthy crime. They would have liked to have asked forgiveness for this action.

Yet these were merely beasts who must have disputed their passage, soulless monstrosities, for whom it seemed ridiculous to feel pity. The first and second they had killed in self-defence.

But the baby—ah, that was what lay so heavy on their consciences!

“I don’t mind the old man one bit,” murmured Ned, as he tossed about. “He was too much like President Kruger for me to let him live, when I saw my chance to wipe him off. He may have had some virtues—as Kruger may have. They both appear to be fond of their own, and willing to fight for them; but that wretched pup—I wish I could forget it.”

Events shortly banished this painful episode from the minds of these brave adventurers, and the jackals would soon remove the traces from the earth. Like the leaves of the forest, the lives of men and animals are trifles of no more consideration than the shadow that crosses a sundial and marks the hour.

Chapter Twenty Two.The Thunderstorm.Ned sternly put his veto on any more monkey-hunting, big or small, as a cruel and useless expenditure of ammunition. They were harmless if left alone, as they were not carnivorous, and totally unfitted for food, unless for starving men, which this party was not by any means.Therefore, while passing through this baboon land, the company, after this one experience, avoided these open avenues as much as possible. When, however, they were forced to use any of the paths, they made plenty of noise, which warned these creatures of their coming, and frightened them away. It was small honour to the hunter, who possessed a sure eye, steady nerve, and a good rifle to destroy one of these missing links of man, who so bravely and foolishly stood still and made targets of themselves before they made the attack.There were leopards and other beasts of prey to be encountered, whom to bring down caused no after reflections. These were treacherous and murderous, and, as they lived by violence, so they deserved their doom.On the next forenoon after this adventure, they emerged from the forest—at least, they reached an altitude where the trees were wider apart and not so densely interlaced. Then they had glimpses of the blue sky and golden patches of sunlight across their path. This, with the fresher air, braced them all up wonderfully.They were still ascending, and were now fully four thousand feet above the sea, so that the tsetse flies were left behind them.About midday they arrived at the base of some lofty cliffs, which reared above the tree-tops some fifty or sixty feet. The torrent was still on their left, and had come to be looked upon as an old friend. It flowed through a chasm or split in these cliffs, and fell into another abyss far below their feet. They could see it dropping like a dark blue band between the branches, while their faces were bathed with the cool vapour which rose up from the pool into which it leapt. A couple of rainbows arched this blue ribbon as the sun-rays glistened prismatically amongst the vapour.These cliffs in front of them rose into the most fantastic shapes and pinnacles. They were of all shapes and sizes, some exactly like ruins of castles, some like pyramids and obelisks. To our heroes, as they looked up, they appeared like a range of deserted keeps and fortifications set there to guard the borders of a strange domain.Trees jutted out of each crevice, while gigantic creepers swung like rope-ladders over the front of these strangely heaped-up boulders. The long and twisted lines reached from the top to where they stood, some of them as thick as a man’s thigh and others no thicker than a finger.It was not at all difficult to climb the cliffs with those tough tendrils to hang on by, and our adventurers, without a pause, began the ascent. At length they stood on the crest of one of these castle-like broken walls, and found that they were entirely the work of freakish nature. They were rewarded, however, for their exertions by the magnificent prospect that spread all round them.Under them they could see the forest which they had traversed, sloping downwards and reaching away until it became a blur of blue haze in the distance. The fierce African sun was pouring down its rays and heat on this vast mass of vegetation, from which rose a film of unwholesome gas, that softened the tops of the trees until they seemed like a great ocean of blended tones. A mighty silence seemed to brood over this vast sea of quivering colours—the pulsing silence of sleeping life.Above them stretched that wide vault of atmosphere, the glad sight of which they had so long been denied. One and all spread out their arms as if to embrace the welcome light and pure air. Like the sun-worshippers, they experienced a kind of adoration for the glowing orb which was so softly sinking towards the west.In front of them extended a flat prairie land dotted here and there with mounds and kopjes and devoid of trees, excepting near the banks of the stream, which they could trace as it flowed across the plateau from a far-distant range of mountains. These mountains were so faintly outlined against the sky that they might almost be mistaken for a low-lying bank of clouds. Only their peaks showed them to be land and not vapour.Not a sign of human life could they perceive, either on the plain or on the banks of the river. No kraals, no huts showed up even, although Ned looked most carefully through his field-glasses.“Have we discovered a new tract of country, I wonder,” he said, “as yet uninhabited? I see not the slightest signs of cultivation, although it looks as good as Rhodesia or the Transvaal.”“It appears like it,” answered Fred. “Only I wish we had our horses.”“Yes, that would be fine, for this seems to be a happy hunting-ground. Look yonder at the peaceful herds of giraffes and zebras. I bet no white man has been here, this generation at least, with his gun,” cried Clarence, who had now quite recovered his spirits.The Kaffirs leaned on their weapons, and looked round them with glittering eyes. Here, indeed, seemed a country worth trekking to.“By George! I do verily believe we are the first discoverers. Let us christen it at once. What shall it be?” asked Ned, turning to his companions.“Jameson Land, if anything,” cried Fred. “He risked his life to rescue us from prison. He deserves this at least from us.”“So be it. Welcome to Jameson Land, boys; and let yonder range of hills be called the Cecil Mountains and this stream the Rhodes River.”They pitched their camp where they were for the night, and soon afterwards were busy discussing tea, roasted antelopes, and fresh-made cake, which the Kaffirs baked from the flour they carried.A young moon showed in the sky that night like a silver sickle, and the stars came out gloriously. As our heroes lay and looked at these sparkling worlds, they thought they had never seen anything more beautiful than that overarching spangled vault of heaven. God had been very good to them to guide them safely so far upon their way. Not a man had been lost. They were as they had started, all except the horses, which was, of course, a universal regret. Yet they were grateful, and did not forget to express it before they went to sleep.From the cries that resounded over the prairie as well as in the forest beneath them, all through the earlier portion of the night, they knew that there was plenty of sport before them.During the night a most tremendous thunderstorm burst over their heads with a perfect tornado of wind. Fortunately, they were protected from the full force by those granite cliffs that surrounded them like Titanic walls. They had chosen for their camp a grassy mound, round which those strange-shaped rocks upreared.The tempest came on, with hardly any warning, just after the young moon had set. They could hear it sweeping over the forest before it reached up to them with a most terrific shrieking. They had only time to drag their loads under the waterproof tent and secure that more firmly, when all the three elements—fire, wind, and rain—were upon them in full force.What a spectacle this was to those who cared to look! Our heroes crept to a split in the rocks, and looked out upon the fierce bombardment with feelings of awe and admiration.Over the forest hung the electricity-charged cloud, like a great war-balloon that had been dropped from the bulging heavens. From this ruddy and smoke-tinted mass issued a perpetual discharge of forked lightning. These vivid streaks darted from all sides into that ocean of rank leafage. It was a magnificent display of fireworks. It needed but a moderate imagination to transform this driving cloud into a great demoniac air-vessel armed on all sides with Maxim and Gatling-like batteries of the deadly flame.Without intermission the lurid flashes darted downwards and disappeared amongst the foliage, each shaft doubtless working havoc with those giant trunks. From the point our heroes looked, however, they could only watch the forked streaks of brightness disappear amongst that yielding blackness.High above the rolling clouds reflected this vivid discharge with a ghostly pallor, while the avalanche of driving rain in the distance seemed a swirling curtain of blue and silver gauze.Loud and quick thunderclaps resounded, one peal after another, like the rolling of a hundred batteries of artillery. For fully half an hour the flames and the loud rattle of thunder went on without a break.They were above this aerial fire-ship, and could overlook its dark upper side from which no flashes came. Over it spread a mighty shadow, moving as it sailed like a black opening in the sky.It was driving rapidly towards them, and looked as if it soon must strike against the cliffs. As yet no wind or rain had reached them; yet they could see the tempest coming, although there was perfect stillness around them. They held on to the rocks, and watched the approach of this death-dealing cloud with fascinated eyes.All at once it took an upward sweep, as if drawn suddenly from above. As it did so, the firing seemed to slacken and become irregular. Now it was passing over their heads and driving along with the speed of an express train. At it flew by, it dropped a fire-ball into a large tree that grew a short distance from where they stood. Like a reed, the gigantic trunk bent over the edge, and disappeared with a sound like a shuddering sob. When the next flash came, they saw a great blank where the tree had stood, with a rift in the rocks as if a ton of dynamite had exploded there.Now the rain and the wind were on them with terrific fury. The thunder-cloud was miles away, pouring desultory and wanton shots on to the plateau, as it raced towards the far-off mountains.In an instant of time they were drenched, while the tornado shrieked through the rock-rifts like a thousand vengeful furies.The Kaffirs pitched themselves face downwards, and clutched to the jutting stones, for nothing mortal could have stood upright before that blast in its first force. Our heroes crouched under the shelter of a buttress-like boulder and watched, still fascinated, that disappearing fire-cloud.In a few minutes, from the little mound ran a hundred streams and tiny cascades into the hollows. These speedily became like filled moats, which swelled upwards until the mound became an island.Then the wind and the rain left them as suddenly as they had come. The sky once more cleared and the stars burnt with increased lustre.But their fire had been put out, and for that night, at least, could not be relighted.Luckily, day was not far off, therefore they formed a square outside their packages, and stood at attention while they waited for the dawn.

Ned sternly put his veto on any more monkey-hunting, big or small, as a cruel and useless expenditure of ammunition. They were harmless if left alone, as they were not carnivorous, and totally unfitted for food, unless for starving men, which this party was not by any means.

Therefore, while passing through this baboon land, the company, after this one experience, avoided these open avenues as much as possible. When, however, they were forced to use any of the paths, they made plenty of noise, which warned these creatures of their coming, and frightened them away. It was small honour to the hunter, who possessed a sure eye, steady nerve, and a good rifle to destroy one of these missing links of man, who so bravely and foolishly stood still and made targets of themselves before they made the attack.

There were leopards and other beasts of prey to be encountered, whom to bring down caused no after reflections. These were treacherous and murderous, and, as they lived by violence, so they deserved their doom.

On the next forenoon after this adventure, they emerged from the forest—at least, they reached an altitude where the trees were wider apart and not so densely interlaced. Then they had glimpses of the blue sky and golden patches of sunlight across their path. This, with the fresher air, braced them all up wonderfully.

They were still ascending, and were now fully four thousand feet above the sea, so that the tsetse flies were left behind them.

About midday they arrived at the base of some lofty cliffs, which reared above the tree-tops some fifty or sixty feet. The torrent was still on their left, and had come to be looked upon as an old friend. It flowed through a chasm or split in these cliffs, and fell into another abyss far below their feet. They could see it dropping like a dark blue band between the branches, while their faces were bathed with the cool vapour which rose up from the pool into which it leapt. A couple of rainbows arched this blue ribbon as the sun-rays glistened prismatically amongst the vapour.

These cliffs in front of them rose into the most fantastic shapes and pinnacles. They were of all shapes and sizes, some exactly like ruins of castles, some like pyramids and obelisks. To our heroes, as they looked up, they appeared like a range of deserted keeps and fortifications set there to guard the borders of a strange domain.

Trees jutted out of each crevice, while gigantic creepers swung like rope-ladders over the front of these strangely heaped-up boulders. The long and twisted lines reached from the top to where they stood, some of them as thick as a man’s thigh and others no thicker than a finger.

It was not at all difficult to climb the cliffs with those tough tendrils to hang on by, and our adventurers, without a pause, began the ascent. At length they stood on the crest of one of these castle-like broken walls, and found that they were entirely the work of freakish nature. They were rewarded, however, for their exertions by the magnificent prospect that spread all round them.

Under them they could see the forest which they had traversed, sloping downwards and reaching away until it became a blur of blue haze in the distance. The fierce African sun was pouring down its rays and heat on this vast mass of vegetation, from which rose a film of unwholesome gas, that softened the tops of the trees until they seemed like a great ocean of blended tones. A mighty silence seemed to brood over this vast sea of quivering colours—the pulsing silence of sleeping life.

Above them stretched that wide vault of atmosphere, the glad sight of which they had so long been denied. One and all spread out their arms as if to embrace the welcome light and pure air. Like the sun-worshippers, they experienced a kind of adoration for the glowing orb which was so softly sinking towards the west.

In front of them extended a flat prairie land dotted here and there with mounds and kopjes and devoid of trees, excepting near the banks of the stream, which they could trace as it flowed across the plateau from a far-distant range of mountains. These mountains were so faintly outlined against the sky that they might almost be mistaken for a low-lying bank of clouds. Only their peaks showed them to be land and not vapour.

Not a sign of human life could they perceive, either on the plain or on the banks of the river. No kraals, no huts showed up even, although Ned looked most carefully through his field-glasses.

“Have we discovered a new tract of country, I wonder,” he said, “as yet uninhabited? I see not the slightest signs of cultivation, although it looks as good as Rhodesia or the Transvaal.”

“It appears like it,” answered Fred. “Only I wish we had our horses.”

“Yes, that would be fine, for this seems to be a happy hunting-ground. Look yonder at the peaceful herds of giraffes and zebras. I bet no white man has been here, this generation at least, with his gun,” cried Clarence, who had now quite recovered his spirits.

The Kaffirs leaned on their weapons, and looked round them with glittering eyes. Here, indeed, seemed a country worth trekking to.

“By George! I do verily believe we are the first discoverers. Let us christen it at once. What shall it be?” asked Ned, turning to his companions.

“Jameson Land, if anything,” cried Fred. “He risked his life to rescue us from prison. He deserves this at least from us.”

“So be it. Welcome to Jameson Land, boys; and let yonder range of hills be called the Cecil Mountains and this stream the Rhodes River.”

They pitched their camp where they were for the night, and soon afterwards were busy discussing tea, roasted antelopes, and fresh-made cake, which the Kaffirs baked from the flour they carried.

A young moon showed in the sky that night like a silver sickle, and the stars came out gloriously. As our heroes lay and looked at these sparkling worlds, they thought they had never seen anything more beautiful than that overarching spangled vault of heaven. God had been very good to them to guide them safely so far upon their way. Not a man had been lost. They were as they had started, all except the horses, which was, of course, a universal regret. Yet they were grateful, and did not forget to express it before they went to sleep.

From the cries that resounded over the prairie as well as in the forest beneath them, all through the earlier portion of the night, they knew that there was plenty of sport before them.

During the night a most tremendous thunderstorm burst over their heads with a perfect tornado of wind. Fortunately, they were protected from the full force by those granite cliffs that surrounded them like Titanic walls. They had chosen for their camp a grassy mound, round which those strange-shaped rocks upreared.

The tempest came on, with hardly any warning, just after the young moon had set. They could hear it sweeping over the forest before it reached up to them with a most terrific shrieking. They had only time to drag their loads under the waterproof tent and secure that more firmly, when all the three elements—fire, wind, and rain—were upon them in full force.

What a spectacle this was to those who cared to look! Our heroes crept to a split in the rocks, and looked out upon the fierce bombardment with feelings of awe and admiration.

Over the forest hung the electricity-charged cloud, like a great war-balloon that had been dropped from the bulging heavens. From this ruddy and smoke-tinted mass issued a perpetual discharge of forked lightning. These vivid streaks darted from all sides into that ocean of rank leafage. It was a magnificent display of fireworks. It needed but a moderate imagination to transform this driving cloud into a great demoniac air-vessel armed on all sides with Maxim and Gatling-like batteries of the deadly flame.

Without intermission the lurid flashes darted downwards and disappeared amongst the foliage, each shaft doubtless working havoc with those giant trunks. From the point our heroes looked, however, they could only watch the forked streaks of brightness disappear amongst that yielding blackness.

High above the rolling clouds reflected this vivid discharge with a ghostly pallor, while the avalanche of driving rain in the distance seemed a swirling curtain of blue and silver gauze.

Loud and quick thunderclaps resounded, one peal after another, like the rolling of a hundred batteries of artillery. For fully half an hour the flames and the loud rattle of thunder went on without a break.

They were above this aerial fire-ship, and could overlook its dark upper side from which no flashes came. Over it spread a mighty shadow, moving as it sailed like a black opening in the sky.

It was driving rapidly towards them, and looked as if it soon must strike against the cliffs. As yet no wind or rain had reached them; yet they could see the tempest coming, although there was perfect stillness around them. They held on to the rocks, and watched the approach of this death-dealing cloud with fascinated eyes.

All at once it took an upward sweep, as if drawn suddenly from above. As it did so, the firing seemed to slacken and become irregular. Now it was passing over their heads and driving along with the speed of an express train. At it flew by, it dropped a fire-ball into a large tree that grew a short distance from where they stood. Like a reed, the gigantic trunk bent over the edge, and disappeared with a sound like a shuddering sob. When the next flash came, they saw a great blank where the tree had stood, with a rift in the rocks as if a ton of dynamite had exploded there.

Now the rain and the wind were on them with terrific fury. The thunder-cloud was miles away, pouring desultory and wanton shots on to the plateau, as it raced towards the far-off mountains.

In an instant of time they were drenched, while the tornado shrieked through the rock-rifts like a thousand vengeful furies.

The Kaffirs pitched themselves face downwards, and clutched to the jutting stones, for nothing mortal could have stood upright before that blast in its first force. Our heroes crouched under the shelter of a buttress-like boulder and watched, still fascinated, that disappearing fire-cloud.

In a few minutes, from the little mound ran a hundred streams and tiny cascades into the hollows. These speedily became like filled moats, which swelled upwards until the mound became an island.

Then the wind and the rain left them as suddenly as they had come. The sky once more cleared and the stars burnt with increased lustre.

But their fire had been put out, and for that night, at least, could not be relighted.

Luckily, day was not far off, therefore they formed a square outside their packages, and stood at attention while they waited for the dawn.

Chapter Twenty Three.On the Plateau.Existence, for the next five days, was the most enjoyable that our heroes had ever experienced.They were in a perfect hunter’s paradise; in fact, so plentiful and varied were the specimens they saw, that the prairie appeared like a well-stocked preserve. The game was so trusting and fearless also, that they had about as little trouble to bring it down as sportsmen at home have over pheasant-shooting.It was glorious, but it seemed too good to last long. When a man gets everything his own way for a time, he is apt to begin foreboding evil to come. This is an instinct which is planted in man to warn him against improvidence. Life is made up of changes, and neither success nor misfortune can last for ever.Our heroes had been trusting entirely to chance so far. What they killed they had partaken as much as they wanted for the day, leaving the remainder to be devoured by the beasts who came after them, and the morrow to provide for itself.But now Ned began to think it wise to prepare a stock of food to carry with them, in case the present supply failed.With this object in view, he made easy marches, and devoted a portion of each day to more deliberate hunting, turning into “biltong” what they did not at present require. These were pleasant occupations to the whole company, and they went along with cheerful hearts.As far as they had proceeded the land appeared to be ownerless, or in the undisputed possession of the grass-feeding and flesh-devouring fauna. There were no pathways, no signs that any other human feet had ever trod over these plains prior to their own advent. This was encouraging, but it also made them wonder.To reach it they had come through a pestilential belt, which might have hitherto deterred humanity on that side. But what prevented them from reaching it from other directions?This made Ned and his companions thoughtful when they discussed and speculated upon the yet unknown problem. Was it surrounded by impassable forests, or worse?This they were resolved to discover, but the surmise of what might be made them take every necessary precaution, so as to be prepared for whatever chanced.Meantime they revelled in the gifts which were within their reach. They were possessed of everything that was needful to make adventurous men happy—excepting, perhaps, notepaper, and that luxury they had learnt by this time to get along very contentedly without. The weather was simply perfect. Hot sunshine during the day, with pretty nearly always a fair breeze. Cool dry nights, when they could enjoy their camp fires and their fur coverings.They clung to the banks of the stream that still coursed along unfailingly.It was of lesser volume now, however, as they had crossed several smaller tributaries that fed it, so that it was about half the width it had been in the forest. But it was still of passable size and depth, considering they were in the midst of the dry season. It flowed smoothly now, yet with considerable current, and with few windings.At parts the banks widened out and became nearly level. In these parts it lost its depth, and was a series of swampy and shallow marshes with a narrow winding brook in the centre. These ponds, being thickly covered with rushes and jungle, were densely filled with feathered game: koorhaan, francolins, quail, and snipe, also flamingoes, storks, and ibis birds. Once or twice they started some Koro bustards, and dined sumptuously on the delicate dainty.They could always tell when they were approaching one of these marshy stretches from the dwindled state of the stream; however, after these were passed the beds became fuller again, as it was constantly being fed by tributaries, and appeared to be one of the principal water-sheds. Round the base of kopjes it wound, rippling clear and unceasingly over its rocky and clay beds; growing smaller as they advanced, yet with pools deep enough to furnish their daily bath, and fringed with brushwood enough to feed their fires.Every hour they got within range of large herds of African game of some description or other. Zebra, quagga, and giraffes crossed their path frequently; antelopes of every variety were met and shot constantly. Droves of eland, koodoo, hartebeest, reed-buck, and other kinds, evidently throve here, in spite of their natural enemies, that were also plentiful.They had several encounters with lions during the day, and never a night passed without their presence being announced by their loud roaring. As the moon increased, they were able to see these majestic beasts prowling outside their camp, with their numerous hangers-on, the wolves, hyenas, and jackals, all helping to render night hideous. Several times, also, they roused a cheetah, and seldom failed to bring the tiger of Africa to book when seen.As yet, however, they had not met either buffaloes or elephants on this plain.Ned kept strictly to his programme, and led his company straight across the plateau, only turning a little out of the straight course when stalking down some special prey. He always returned, however, to his bee-line as soon as the sport was run to earth.The distant mountains were his landmark. Each day they were getting nearer and more sharply outlined against the limpid sky. The stream trended directly towards them.They had taken matters easy during these five days, seldom covering more than ten or twelve miles each day of straight travelling. Some days they had not covered half that distance. On Sundays they always rested; and as a Sunday had been spent on the plateau, they reckoned that they had put in about thirty-eight to forty miles since leaving the forest.The mountains still lay, as nearly as they were able to calculate, about thirty miles away. These had been rising gradually on their view, until now they loomed a considerable height over the horizon.As far as our heroes could judge of the ranges, they appeared sterile, rocky, and uninviting; rugged in outline, with upstarting and fantastic peaks, that broke against the sky like great tors.When the sun shone upon them, the adventurers could see patches of tawny light, with serrated edges and ragged shadows of violet. There were also long zigzag lines of deeper purple, that looked like chasms and steep precipices. Nothing like vegetation appeared to line those bleak and rugged ridges.“If we are in the land of plenty now, yonder appears to be the land of desolation,” observed Clarence.“Yes; I fancy we shall see something different over there from what we have hitherto experienced,” answered Ned, cheerfully. “Fortunately, our friend ‘Rhodes River’ still is with us.”“It is also growing, like the game, beautifully less as we advance,” remarked Fred.It was true. The stream was only a rivulet now, hardly six feet wide, and not above the ankle in depth. The game they were leaving behind, and a wave of hot wind seemed to spread from those rocky mountains.They made longer marches now, covering on the first day twenty miles, and bringing up at sundown to where they could see the details of the mountains very distinctly.During that day they had seen, in the extreme distance, a herd of quaggas bounding away to their rear, and later on had been able to bring down four white-tailed gnus. These were enough for their supper, and they had plenty of dried meat.They camped by the side of the brook, now less than a yard wide. They had crossed no feeders for the past two days.The soil round them was more stony and bare than it had been, yet close to the stream the banks were fertile. Before them the ground spread like a desert.The mountain range in front was forbidding in the extreme. The nearer lap rose abruptly from the plain like a rocky coast. Huge wall-like precipices, that looked impassable, except where great rents yawned darkly at places.Ned examined these chasms long and silently. The others looked at him expectantly.“Well, Ned, old fellow, what do you think of those gateways?” asked Clarence.“Not much—except as gateways,” answered Ned, quietly.“Then you mean to go on?”“I should like to see where they lead to—yes, we must see where they lead to,” he added, in a more determined voice. “It would never do to go back and say we were checked by a few rocks. As long as the road lies open and our supplies last, I’ll go on, if you will back me up.”“Right you are. We won’t leave you to go forward by yourself,” replied both Fred and Clarence, while Cocoeni and the Kaffirs nodded grimly their willingness to go also wherever they were led.For the first time since leaving Rhodesia the sense of his responsibility pressed heavily upon Ned. As he lay that night and looked over towards the shadowy outlines of those barren rocks, he felt his resolution waver somewhat. He had many lives under his charge, men who were prepared to follow him wherever he chose to go. Where was he about to lead them now?Death by thirst and want seemed to lurk within those desolate craigs, which revealed no speck of gnus upon their tawny and red breasts, and only the arid shelter of shadow within their stony flanks.He curiously began to think what must have been the feelings of Moses when he looked at the naked peaks of Attika, after he had seen the pursuing hosts of Pharaoh overwhelmed. These rocks in front of him could not be more inhospitable than were the red mountains of Attika. Yet they had been the entrances to the promised land.The rank forest had not appalled him as those stern, dry cliffs now did. Yet the forest held as many dangers—indeed, it hid more varied forms of horrors than these chasms could: death in the shape of fever, and submerging in loathsome and treacherous morasses; from venomous snake-bites, and crocodiles, lions, tigers, and the poisoned arrows of lurking savages. There was nearly every kind of peril to be encountered in the forest except one, and here it waited for them—at least, so it seemed to Ned and his companions—the peril of thirst, the most dreaded of dooms, next to fire, which humanity shrinks back from encountering. Would he go on with those dauntless fellows, and dare that terrible risk, or turn back before it was too late?The half-moon silvered the ground with cool lustre. A little way off he saw several soft-footed, slouching forms prowling about, with swinging tails and luminous, emerald-green eyes, that betrayed them. While he watched their restless motions, and the rolling heave of their lean hips, he became conscious of the musical ripple of that ever-flowing, if diminished, brooklet.“It comes from those sterile mountains,” he murmured. “And while it still flows, we are in no danger of perishing from thirst.”Braced up with this comforting solace, his momentary timidity and irresolution passed away, and he felt once more cheerful. Moses and Aaron had faith. So had the other explorers, both in Africa and on the frightful waterless deserts of Australia, and many of these daring, purposeful heroes had endured all and returned to tell the tale. With manly pride he crushed out all recollections of those who had never returned, and dwelt only on the lives of those who had come back.“Nothing venture, nothing win. If I bring down that nearest lion with the first shot, I’ll take that as a sign that we will be successful.”The beast in question was squatting at that moment on its haunches, like a great dog, with its face full towards him, and its phosphorescent eyes shining like lamps.It was less than thirty yards away, and seemed to be glaring full at him. Doubtless it was waiting and hoping that the dreaded camp fire would presently burn out, so that it might get one of those tempting figures which were stretched round it. About a dozen of its companions were sitting or moving about, inspired by the same idea that now engrossed its leonine fancy.It was a splendid target, for it sat as motionless as if it had been one of the boulders that were scattered round. Ned smiled broadly as he brought his twelve-bore double Metford rifle to his shoulder, and took a careful aim at the dark space between those glowing lamps. It seemed trying for a sign with a pretty certain conclusion. Yet if he chanced to miss, then, indeed, he might well take this as a bad omen.With a report that startled the sleepers, the rifle exploded, and made them all leap to their feet. But before the sound came, Ned had the satisfaction of beholding the lion bound into the air and roll over on its side, with those green lamps extinguished for ever.“What’s up now, Ned?” cried Clarence and Fred, rubbing their eyes.“Only a bit of an experiment I was trying,” answered Ned, laughing, as he watched the other prowlers scurrying off with their tails between their legs like frightened curs. “That old fellow was sitting a little bit too near my rifle for his health.”“Was that your experiment?” asked the boys, as they looked sulkily at the dead lion. “You needn’t have woke the whole camp for that easy practice.”“I wanted to see if I could possibly miss him, for I had made it the condition whether we should go on or turn back.”“As if any one could miss such a mark! Your ordeal of signs is like what the testing of witches used to be—pretty safe to turn out as you wished it.”“I might have missed, you know; aiming in the moonlight has always some degree of uncertainty about it,” said Ned, modestly.“Some few of the reputed witches must also have escaped drowning, but precious few did so, I have read,” answered Clarence, sarcastically. “Then, I suppose, since you must have blown the brains out of that carcase, the sign is, ‘Go on and—risk it’?”“Yes; that is the result,” replied Ned. “Go on and—succeed.”“That is the consummation devoutly to be wished. Now, don’t waste any more bullets on signs in the shape of lions—until our watch below is over, at any rate. Be sure, Sir Oracle. We are off again to the arms of Morpheus.”

Existence, for the next five days, was the most enjoyable that our heroes had ever experienced.

They were in a perfect hunter’s paradise; in fact, so plentiful and varied were the specimens they saw, that the prairie appeared like a well-stocked preserve. The game was so trusting and fearless also, that they had about as little trouble to bring it down as sportsmen at home have over pheasant-shooting.

It was glorious, but it seemed too good to last long. When a man gets everything his own way for a time, he is apt to begin foreboding evil to come. This is an instinct which is planted in man to warn him against improvidence. Life is made up of changes, and neither success nor misfortune can last for ever.

Our heroes had been trusting entirely to chance so far. What they killed they had partaken as much as they wanted for the day, leaving the remainder to be devoured by the beasts who came after them, and the morrow to provide for itself.

But now Ned began to think it wise to prepare a stock of food to carry with them, in case the present supply failed.

With this object in view, he made easy marches, and devoted a portion of each day to more deliberate hunting, turning into “biltong” what they did not at present require. These were pleasant occupations to the whole company, and they went along with cheerful hearts.

As far as they had proceeded the land appeared to be ownerless, or in the undisputed possession of the grass-feeding and flesh-devouring fauna. There were no pathways, no signs that any other human feet had ever trod over these plains prior to their own advent. This was encouraging, but it also made them wonder.

To reach it they had come through a pestilential belt, which might have hitherto deterred humanity on that side. But what prevented them from reaching it from other directions?

This made Ned and his companions thoughtful when they discussed and speculated upon the yet unknown problem. Was it surrounded by impassable forests, or worse?

This they were resolved to discover, but the surmise of what might be made them take every necessary precaution, so as to be prepared for whatever chanced.

Meantime they revelled in the gifts which were within their reach. They were possessed of everything that was needful to make adventurous men happy—excepting, perhaps, notepaper, and that luxury they had learnt by this time to get along very contentedly without. The weather was simply perfect. Hot sunshine during the day, with pretty nearly always a fair breeze. Cool dry nights, when they could enjoy their camp fires and their fur coverings.

They clung to the banks of the stream that still coursed along unfailingly.

It was of lesser volume now, however, as they had crossed several smaller tributaries that fed it, so that it was about half the width it had been in the forest. But it was still of passable size and depth, considering they were in the midst of the dry season. It flowed smoothly now, yet with considerable current, and with few windings.

At parts the banks widened out and became nearly level. In these parts it lost its depth, and was a series of swampy and shallow marshes with a narrow winding brook in the centre. These ponds, being thickly covered with rushes and jungle, were densely filled with feathered game: koorhaan, francolins, quail, and snipe, also flamingoes, storks, and ibis birds. Once or twice they started some Koro bustards, and dined sumptuously on the delicate dainty.

They could always tell when they were approaching one of these marshy stretches from the dwindled state of the stream; however, after these were passed the beds became fuller again, as it was constantly being fed by tributaries, and appeared to be one of the principal water-sheds. Round the base of kopjes it wound, rippling clear and unceasingly over its rocky and clay beds; growing smaller as they advanced, yet with pools deep enough to furnish their daily bath, and fringed with brushwood enough to feed their fires.

Every hour they got within range of large herds of African game of some description or other. Zebra, quagga, and giraffes crossed their path frequently; antelopes of every variety were met and shot constantly. Droves of eland, koodoo, hartebeest, reed-buck, and other kinds, evidently throve here, in spite of their natural enemies, that were also plentiful.

They had several encounters with lions during the day, and never a night passed without their presence being announced by their loud roaring. As the moon increased, they were able to see these majestic beasts prowling outside their camp, with their numerous hangers-on, the wolves, hyenas, and jackals, all helping to render night hideous. Several times, also, they roused a cheetah, and seldom failed to bring the tiger of Africa to book when seen.

As yet, however, they had not met either buffaloes or elephants on this plain.

Ned kept strictly to his programme, and led his company straight across the plateau, only turning a little out of the straight course when stalking down some special prey. He always returned, however, to his bee-line as soon as the sport was run to earth.

The distant mountains were his landmark. Each day they were getting nearer and more sharply outlined against the limpid sky. The stream trended directly towards them.

They had taken matters easy during these five days, seldom covering more than ten or twelve miles each day of straight travelling. Some days they had not covered half that distance. On Sundays they always rested; and as a Sunday had been spent on the plateau, they reckoned that they had put in about thirty-eight to forty miles since leaving the forest.

The mountains still lay, as nearly as they were able to calculate, about thirty miles away. These had been rising gradually on their view, until now they loomed a considerable height over the horizon.

As far as our heroes could judge of the ranges, they appeared sterile, rocky, and uninviting; rugged in outline, with upstarting and fantastic peaks, that broke against the sky like great tors.

When the sun shone upon them, the adventurers could see patches of tawny light, with serrated edges and ragged shadows of violet. There were also long zigzag lines of deeper purple, that looked like chasms and steep precipices. Nothing like vegetation appeared to line those bleak and rugged ridges.

“If we are in the land of plenty now, yonder appears to be the land of desolation,” observed Clarence.

“Yes; I fancy we shall see something different over there from what we have hitherto experienced,” answered Ned, cheerfully. “Fortunately, our friend ‘Rhodes River’ still is with us.”

“It is also growing, like the game, beautifully less as we advance,” remarked Fred.

It was true. The stream was only a rivulet now, hardly six feet wide, and not above the ankle in depth. The game they were leaving behind, and a wave of hot wind seemed to spread from those rocky mountains.

They made longer marches now, covering on the first day twenty miles, and bringing up at sundown to where they could see the details of the mountains very distinctly.

During that day they had seen, in the extreme distance, a herd of quaggas bounding away to their rear, and later on had been able to bring down four white-tailed gnus. These were enough for their supper, and they had plenty of dried meat.

They camped by the side of the brook, now less than a yard wide. They had crossed no feeders for the past two days.

The soil round them was more stony and bare than it had been, yet close to the stream the banks were fertile. Before them the ground spread like a desert.

The mountain range in front was forbidding in the extreme. The nearer lap rose abruptly from the plain like a rocky coast. Huge wall-like precipices, that looked impassable, except where great rents yawned darkly at places.

Ned examined these chasms long and silently. The others looked at him expectantly.

“Well, Ned, old fellow, what do you think of those gateways?” asked Clarence.

“Not much—except as gateways,” answered Ned, quietly.

“Then you mean to go on?”

“I should like to see where they lead to—yes, we must see where they lead to,” he added, in a more determined voice. “It would never do to go back and say we were checked by a few rocks. As long as the road lies open and our supplies last, I’ll go on, if you will back me up.”

“Right you are. We won’t leave you to go forward by yourself,” replied both Fred and Clarence, while Cocoeni and the Kaffirs nodded grimly their willingness to go also wherever they were led.

For the first time since leaving Rhodesia the sense of his responsibility pressed heavily upon Ned. As he lay that night and looked over towards the shadowy outlines of those barren rocks, he felt his resolution waver somewhat. He had many lives under his charge, men who were prepared to follow him wherever he chose to go. Where was he about to lead them now?

Death by thirst and want seemed to lurk within those desolate craigs, which revealed no speck of gnus upon their tawny and red breasts, and only the arid shelter of shadow within their stony flanks.

He curiously began to think what must have been the feelings of Moses when he looked at the naked peaks of Attika, after he had seen the pursuing hosts of Pharaoh overwhelmed. These rocks in front of him could not be more inhospitable than were the red mountains of Attika. Yet they had been the entrances to the promised land.

The rank forest had not appalled him as those stern, dry cliffs now did. Yet the forest held as many dangers—indeed, it hid more varied forms of horrors than these chasms could: death in the shape of fever, and submerging in loathsome and treacherous morasses; from venomous snake-bites, and crocodiles, lions, tigers, and the poisoned arrows of lurking savages. There was nearly every kind of peril to be encountered in the forest except one, and here it waited for them—at least, so it seemed to Ned and his companions—the peril of thirst, the most dreaded of dooms, next to fire, which humanity shrinks back from encountering. Would he go on with those dauntless fellows, and dare that terrible risk, or turn back before it was too late?

The half-moon silvered the ground with cool lustre. A little way off he saw several soft-footed, slouching forms prowling about, with swinging tails and luminous, emerald-green eyes, that betrayed them. While he watched their restless motions, and the rolling heave of their lean hips, he became conscious of the musical ripple of that ever-flowing, if diminished, brooklet.

“It comes from those sterile mountains,” he murmured. “And while it still flows, we are in no danger of perishing from thirst.”

Braced up with this comforting solace, his momentary timidity and irresolution passed away, and he felt once more cheerful. Moses and Aaron had faith. So had the other explorers, both in Africa and on the frightful waterless deserts of Australia, and many of these daring, purposeful heroes had endured all and returned to tell the tale. With manly pride he crushed out all recollections of those who had never returned, and dwelt only on the lives of those who had come back.

“Nothing venture, nothing win. If I bring down that nearest lion with the first shot, I’ll take that as a sign that we will be successful.”

The beast in question was squatting at that moment on its haunches, like a great dog, with its face full towards him, and its phosphorescent eyes shining like lamps.

It was less than thirty yards away, and seemed to be glaring full at him. Doubtless it was waiting and hoping that the dreaded camp fire would presently burn out, so that it might get one of those tempting figures which were stretched round it. About a dozen of its companions were sitting or moving about, inspired by the same idea that now engrossed its leonine fancy.

It was a splendid target, for it sat as motionless as if it had been one of the boulders that were scattered round. Ned smiled broadly as he brought his twelve-bore double Metford rifle to his shoulder, and took a careful aim at the dark space between those glowing lamps. It seemed trying for a sign with a pretty certain conclusion. Yet if he chanced to miss, then, indeed, he might well take this as a bad omen.

With a report that startled the sleepers, the rifle exploded, and made them all leap to their feet. But before the sound came, Ned had the satisfaction of beholding the lion bound into the air and roll over on its side, with those green lamps extinguished for ever.

“What’s up now, Ned?” cried Clarence and Fred, rubbing their eyes.

“Only a bit of an experiment I was trying,” answered Ned, laughing, as he watched the other prowlers scurrying off with their tails between their legs like frightened curs. “That old fellow was sitting a little bit too near my rifle for his health.”

“Was that your experiment?” asked the boys, as they looked sulkily at the dead lion. “You needn’t have woke the whole camp for that easy practice.”

“I wanted to see if I could possibly miss him, for I had made it the condition whether we should go on or turn back.”

“As if any one could miss such a mark! Your ordeal of signs is like what the testing of witches used to be—pretty safe to turn out as you wished it.”

“I might have missed, you know; aiming in the moonlight has always some degree of uncertainty about it,” said Ned, modestly.

“Some few of the reputed witches must also have escaped drowning, but precious few did so, I have read,” answered Clarence, sarcastically. “Then, I suppose, since you must have blown the brains out of that carcase, the sign is, ‘Go on and—risk it’?”

“Yes; that is the result,” replied Ned. “Go on and—succeed.”

“That is the consummation devoutly to be wished. Now, don’t waste any more bullets on signs in the shape of lions—until our watch below is over, at any rate. Be sure, Sir Oracle. We are off again to the arms of Morpheus.”

Chapter Twenty Four.The Bashikonay.It was not by any means a dull camp since the diaries and note-books were destroyed.Before this fatal accident matters had been slightly monotonous for Cocoeni and the other young sporting Basuto and Matabele braves. Since that irreparable loss, however—to use Cocoeni’s slangy English—“things were humming, instead of being humdrum.”They were merry boys, all of them, and could not have been more wisely assorted for such an uncertain enterprise. Regardless of danger and privation, and well-nigh impervious to fatigue, they took their troubles laughing.They made sport of their work, and, unless silence was necessary, turned their daily march into a Christy Minstrel serenade. Repartee, song, and jest were the orders of the hours, and never had Ned seen a moody brow about him since Cocoeni brought the sorrowful tidings back from the rapids about the saurian and the valise.Splendid-looking fellows the natives were, also; the flower and chivalry of their tribes. Deep brown eyes that could melt with emotion, flash with courage, and sparkle with fun; lips full, and ever on the ripple with appreciation of a joke; teeth even and white as the purest ivory could be; limbs muscular, shapely, and supple, with epidermis smooth, sleek, and sheeny as satin. Whether they were lying, standing, wrestling, or running, they were bronze models of grace and symmetry to draw the eye artistic upon them with admiration and delight.Ned put them through their facings morning and evening for half an hour each time, before they commenced and after they had ended their day’s march. They took to this military exercise most congenially, and as they were quick to learn, very soon became splendidly drilled soldiers. He and his chums had cause to be proud of these glorious young warriors, as with lightning speed they obeyed orders, forming squares, scattering out into skirmishing order, marching steady as Romans, and pitching themselves flat on the ground to the word of command. With what they had learnt of British war tactics, added to their own native training, Ned had charge of as fine a body of men as captain or centurion could have desired.Our heroes had not been so long from school to forget or forego the delights of outdoor games and athletic exercises, and these they taught their followers, much to their delight.Cecil Rhodes, with that profound knowledge of men which has made him such a success, had not omitted cricket-bats, wickets, and balls, with the more necessary items of their equipment. These furnished them with constant amusement at such times as they might otherwise have felt wearied when game was not in their vicinity.Football was an unfailing source of amusement with these stalwart dusky athletes. Ned was referee on these occasions, and Clarence and Fred the touch-judges. Rugby was their favourite game, and as it was played on those level veldts, it was a pretty and exhilarating game.Cricket also they enjoyed hugely. They usually fixed Saturdays for their big matches, but some practised all the week. Cocoeni became a crack bowler, and much of the evenings were spent in discussing the qualities of the different players.They had also racing contests and jumping matches. The steeplechases would have been eye-openers to some British experts, for these fellows could leap like kangaroos and run like racehorses.They had wild tugs of war, and putting and throwing the weights; also wrestling, lifting, and club exercise. In all these feats the Matabeles contested with the Basutos, yet never lost their temper once.It was the general good temper and fine control displayed by those hardy young warriors, as well as their expertness, quickness, obedience, and strength, that made them such valuable allies. Ned felt that his hundred and twenty-five trained heroes were equal to a thousand or more irresponsible savages, if they were forced to fight for their lives. With these at his back, he was hardly afraid of any odds now that they knew and could depend upon each other.Our heroes were well-trained and religious young men, and while paying such strict attention to their physical exercises, you may depend upon it, did not neglect their spiritual devotions. On Sundays they conducted Church service twice regularly, each of them taking turns to deliver a discourse suitable to their audience and their own abilities. They explained the Scripture as they read it, and did their best to demonstrate how good and beautiful, as well as knightly, were the qualities of mercy, purity, truth, and faith.They showed their heroic and simple listeners that fearlessness, endurance, courage, and strength were only the common attributes shared alike by beast and man; that where the man proved his heroism and superiority over the beast was in his generosity and chivalry towards his weaker or viler enemy, and also in his humility, trust, and obedience to the higher and Divine laws of God. When they told of that great and perfect Example and Sacrifice to humanity, those emotional Africans sobbed their sympathy for His sufferings for them. He was the true and perfect Knight who faced and endured ignominy and death that they might live eternally.They pointed out the living example of King Khama, who had proved that a Christian could also be a brave and great warrior. They told about that other hero, Gordon of Khartoum, who did not lose his faith or courage even although so basely betrayed by those from whom he expected help. The Matabeles and Basutos quickly comprehended and appreciated these specimens of fidelity and heroism. They remembered, also, during the week what they had listened to on Sunday.“You will be brave in the hour of danger, for that is your nature, I know,” said Ned on one of these occasions. “Be brave enough, also, to stay your hand in the hot moment of triumph, for that is the moment of greatest peril to the hero. You can endure privations, I have seen; you must also learn to resist temptations. The perfect warrior is temperate in all things, true to his brothers, and true also to his pledge even when given to a foe. His shield is meant to protect his own body, and his body is given to him to aid and protect the weak, raise the fallen, comfort the afflicted, and keep it holy and clean.”These were boyish orations, but they went straight to the hearts of those child-like hearers. The ideals were those of uncontaminated youth appealing to unsophisticated and malleable Nature. Our heroes had no scoffers amongst their congregation, but only young men devoted to them, who were as easy to lead upwards or downwards as children. Ned and his two chums led them upwards as far as they could; and made them to see how much better virtue was than vice, how much happier faith made one than did doubt. Each had their departments to debate upon. Ned showed the greatness of the Creator by botanical illustrations. Fred brought in his chemistry, and filled them with wonder at the marvels he revealed. Clarence explained the stars, and entertained them with the fairy-like tales of astronomy. Thus their days and nights were fully occupied.They began and ended each day with prayer. As they walked along they felt that they were environed with unseen protection. This inspired them constantly with renewed and lofty courage. So long as man can rely on prayer, he need fear no enemy, for his buckler is impregnable.On the next morning after Ned had killed the lion, they started at daybreak towards the mountain.They had not gone half the distance, however, when the sun, which had risen brightly, suddenly became overcast with what appeared to be a dense, dark cloud, which completely blotted out the light, and threw a dismal shadow over the landscape.Our heroes looked at the dark cloud which was so swiftly rising out of the east and overspreading the blue sky. It was like nothing they had ever seen before, of a violet blackness, with copper-coloured upper edges that glistened metallically. A strange rustling sound came from it, growing louder as it advanced.Myriads of birds circled above this cloud, diving in and darting out from it perpetually. As it came on with incredible rapidity, they could see it trailing along and covering the ground like a black pall.The Kaffirs flung down their loads, and stood watching it with glittering eyes, while Cocoeni stretched out his arm and explained the startling phenomenon with one word, “Locusts!”One of the plagues of Moses was coming. Even while Cocoeni still pointed, the swarming insects with their violet wings were upon them in countless hosts.They filled miles of space with such a palpable mass that only a dim twilight prevailed. They covered the earth like a fall of snow six inches deep with no intervening space. All the air was reverberating with their loud chirping, the rustling of their crisp wings, and the shrieking cries of the birds who devoured them wholesale, yet without apparently diminishing their bulk.Our heroes were appalled at this numberless host, and dazed with the darkness and noise. They staggered about trying vainly to shake the pests off, that dropped so thickly and incessantly upon them. They slid and squashed thousands under their feet; while they felt sick as they watched their followers greedily imitating the ravenous birds, and devouring handfuls of them, as fast as they could chew and swallow.For an hour this went on, as the rustling, whistling, shrieking, and living cloud of darkness swept over them. Then gradually the air cleared, and the fierce sun poured down upon that glistening and writhing plain.Not a blade of grass or leaf of herbage was left. Around them spread a barren desert; even the river-bed was choked up with a moving compact mass of blackness.They resumed their march, watching the cloud as it swept westward, and slipping about as if treading amongst slushy ice, over the ankles. It was horrible. It was sickeningly disgusting.The Kaffirs, however, showed no disgust. After gorging themselves, they filled their bags with these insects, and trudged along singing merrily.“Are they good to eat, Cocoeni?” asked Ned.“You bet they are, baas, bully fine. You eat one, and then you will find out.”“No, thanks; I’ll take your word for it, old man. They ought to be good for something, since they have used up the country.”“Oh, next rains will make that all right.”“Meantime, I suppose there will be starvation amongst the game?”“No; they will eat these as we do; after that they will move off to other parts.”In another couple of hours the company arrived at the cliffs. The ground was still covered with locusts, which had been unable to rise, and the stream-bed was completely filled, so that no water could be seen.In front of them yawned a chasm of about a hundred yards wide. Wall-like precipices rose on either side and stretched upward for five thousand feet with hardly a break. A few fissures and cracks were discernible here and there, but no ledge which could afford a foot or handgrip for even the most expert climber.The ground was hard and stony, yet even here, as far as they could look into the cavity, it was overspread with locusts.The stream penetrated this barren gully, and also continued as far as they could see. Eastward and west these same smooth precipices extended, like a coastline until merged in distance. Serrated on the ridges, at long intervals they presented similar openings to the one they now stood before. Possibly these were water-sheds in the rainy seasons, but at present there were no signs of streams flowing. After a careful survey east and westward, Ned decided that the Rhodes river opening was the most promising route to follow.Without any more hesitation, he strode into the shadow of the cliffs and out of the sun glare, crushing his hundreds of locusts each step he took. The rest followed him obediently, still singing as they went along.A crowd of aasvogels had come down from their lofty watching-posts, and were busy glutting themselves with the locusts. These vultures merely lifted their ugly bald heads and bare necks and looked at the invaders as they passed, and then continued their feasting, hardly budging out of the way.After penetrating for about a mile of this shadow-land they crossed the belt of locusts, and found that the ground was ascending.It was paved with water-worn smooth rocks between patches of yellow sand, and rose in a series of steppes. In the centre of this channel, the brook still ran purling and clear over its stony bed, with here and there small fringes of vegetation at its edges. All else, however, round and above them was sterile in the extreme. A deep silence brooded over this rocky valley, which, although at present in shadow, was intensely hot and airless. The sun glared on the upper half of one side, but the rocks in the bed still retained the heat where it had lately shone. As they walked, our heroes felt as if enclosed in a bakehouse.They were winding round a corner, when suddenly Cocoeni and the other Kaffirs uttered cries of affright and rushed into the middle of the running stream, where they stood in a line, trembling. Ned and his chums at once promptly followed their example; then they asked—“What is it, Cocoeni, that frightens you?”“Look, baas, the bashikonay is coming!”

It was not by any means a dull camp since the diaries and note-books were destroyed.

Before this fatal accident matters had been slightly monotonous for Cocoeni and the other young sporting Basuto and Matabele braves. Since that irreparable loss, however—to use Cocoeni’s slangy English—“things were humming, instead of being humdrum.”

They were merry boys, all of them, and could not have been more wisely assorted for such an uncertain enterprise. Regardless of danger and privation, and well-nigh impervious to fatigue, they took their troubles laughing.

They made sport of their work, and, unless silence was necessary, turned their daily march into a Christy Minstrel serenade. Repartee, song, and jest were the orders of the hours, and never had Ned seen a moody brow about him since Cocoeni brought the sorrowful tidings back from the rapids about the saurian and the valise.

Splendid-looking fellows the natives were, also; the flower and chivalry of their tribes. Deep brown eyes that could melt with emotion, flash with courage, and sparkle with fun; lips full, and ever on the ripple with appreciation of a joke; teeth even and white as the purest ivory could be; limbs muscular, shapely, and supple, with epidermis smooth, sleek, and sheeny as satin. Whether they were lying, standing, wrestling, or running, they were bronze models of grace and symmetry to draw the eye artistic upon them with admiration and delight.

Ned put them through their facings morning and evening for half an hour each time, before they commenced and after they had ended their day’s march. They took to this military exercise most congenially, and as they were quick to learn, very soon became splendidly drilled soldiers. He and his chums had cause to be proud of these glorious young warriors, as with lightning speed they obeyed orders, forming squares, scattering out into skirmishing order, marching steady as Romans, and pitching themselves flat on the ground to the word of command. With what they had learnt of British war tactics, added to their own native training, Ned had charge of as fine a body of men as captain or centurion could have desired.

Our heroes had not been so long from school to forget or forego the delights of outdoor games and athletic exercises, and these they taught their followers, much to their delight.

Cecil Rhodes, with that profound knowledge of men which has made him such a success, had not omitted cricket-bats, wickets, and balls, with the more necessary items of their equipment. These furnished them with constant amusement at such times as they might otherwise have felt wearied when game was not in their vicinity.

Football was an unfailing source of amusement with these stalwart dusky athletes. Ned was referee on these occasions, and Clarence and Fred the touch-judges. Rugby was their favourite game, and as it was played on those level veldts, it was a pretty and exhilarating game.

Cricket also they enjoyed hugely. They usually fixed Saturdays for their big matches, but some practised all the week. Cocoeni became a crack bowler, and much of the evenings were spent in discussing the qualities of the different players.

They had also racing contests and jumping matches. The steeplechases would have been eye-openers to some British experts, for these fellows could leap like kangaroos and run like racehorses.

They had wild tugs of war, and putting and throwing the weights; also wrestling, lifting, and club exercise. In all these feats the Matabeles contested with the Basutos, yet never lost their temper once.

It was the general good temper and fine control displayed by those hardy young warriors, as well as their expertness, quickness, obedience, and strength, that made them such valuable allies. Ned felt that his hundred and twenty-five trained heroes were equal to a thousand or more irresponsible savages, if they were forced to fight for their lives. With these at his back, he was hardly afraid of any odds now that they knew and could depend upon each other.

Our heroes were well-trained and religious young men, and while paying such strict attention to their physical exercises, you may depend upon it, did not neglect their spiritual devotions. On Sundays they conducted Church service twice regularly, each of them taking turns to deliver a discourse suitable to their audience and their own abilities. They explained the Scripture as they read it, and did their best to demonstrate how good and beautiful, as well as knightly, were the qualities of mercy, purity, truth, and faith.

They showed their heroic and simple listeners that fearlessness, endurance, courage, and strength were only the common attributes shared alike by beast and man; that where the man proved his heroism and superiority over the beast was in his generosity and chivalry towards his weaker or viler enemy, and also in his humility, trust, and obedience to the higher and Divine laws of God. When they told of that great and perfect Example and Sacrifice to humanity, those emotional Africans sobbed their sympathy for His sufferings for them. He was the true and perfect Knight who faced and endured ignominy and death that they might live eternally.

They pointed out the living example of King Khama, who had proved that a Christian could also be a brave and great warrior. They told about that other hero, Gordon of Khartoum, who did not lose his faith or courage even although so basely betrayed by those from whom he expected help. The Matabeles and Basutos quickly comprehended and appreciated these specimens of fidelity and heroism. They remembered, also, during the week what they had listened to on Sunday.

“You will be brave in the hour of danger, for that is your nature, I know,” said Ned on one of these occasions. “Be brave enough, also, to stay your hand in the hot moment of triumph, for that is the moment of greatest peril to the hero. You can endure privations, I have seen; you must also learn to resist temptations. The perfect warrior is temperate in all things, true to his brothers, and true also to his pledge even when given to a foe. His shield is meant to protect his own body, and his body is given to him to aid and protect the weak, raise the fallen, comfort the afflicted, and keep it holy and clean.”

These were boyish orations, but they went straight to the hearts of those child-like hearers. The ideals were those of uncontaminated youth appealing to unsophisticated and malleable Nature. Our heroes had no scoffers amongst their congregation, but only young men devoted to them, who were as easy to lead upwards or downwards as children. Ned and his two chums led them upwards as far as they could; and made them to see how much better virtue was than vice, how much happier faith made one than did doubt. Each had their departments to debate upon. Ned showed the greatness of the Creator by botanical illustrations. Fred brought in his chemistry, and filled them with wonder at the marvels he revealed. Clarence explained the stars, and entertained them with the fairy-like tales of astronomy. Thus their days and nights were fully occupied.

They began and ended each day with prayer. As they walked along they felt that they were environed with unseen protection. This inspired them constantly with renewed and lofty courage. So long as man can rely on prayer, he need fear no enemy, for his buckler is impregnable.

On the next morning after Ned had killed the lion, they started at daybreak towards the mountain.

They had not gone half the distance, however, when the sun, which had risen brightly, suddenly became overcast with what appeared to be a dense, dark cloud, which completely blotted out the light, and threw a dismal shadow over the landscape.

Our heroes looked at the dark cloud which was so swiftly rising out of the east and overspreading the blue sky. It was like nothing they had ever seen before, of a violet blackness, with copper-coloured upper edges that glistened metallically. A strange rustling sound came from it, growing louder as it advanced.

Myriads of birds circled above this cloud, diving in and darting out from it perpetually. As it came on with incredible rapidity, they could see it trailing along and covering the ground like a black pall.

The Kaffirs flung down their loads, and stood watching it with glittering eyes, while Cocoeni stretched out his arm and explained the startling phenomenon with one word, “Locusts!”

One of the plagues of Moses was coming. Even while Cocoeni still pointed, the swarming insects with their violet wings were upon them in countless hosts.

They filled miles of space with such a palpable mass that only a dim twilight prevailed. They covered the earth like a fall of snow six inches deep with no intervening space. All the air was reverberating with their loud chirping, the rustling of their crisp wings, and the shrieking cries of the birds who devoured them wholesale, yet without apparently diminishing their bulk.

Our heroes were appalled at this numberless host, and dazed with the darkness and noise. They staggered about trying vainly to shake the pests off, that dropped so thickly and incessantly upon them. They slid and squashed thousands under their feet; while they felt sick as they watched their followers greedily imitating the ravenous birds, and devouring handfuls of them, as fast as they could chew and swallow.

For an hour this went on, as the rustling, whistling, shrieking, and living cloud of darkness swept over them. Then gradually the air cleared, and the fierce sun poured down upon that glistening and writhing plain.

Not a blade of grass or leaf of herbage was left. Around them spread a barren desert; even the river-bed was choked up with a moving compact mass of blackness.

They resumed their march, watching the cloud as it swept westward, and slipping about as if treading amongst slushy ice, over the ankles. It was horrible. It was sickeningly disgusting.

The Kaffirs, however, showed no disgust. After gorging themselves, they filled their bags with these insects, and trudged along singing merrily.

“Are they good to eat, Cocoeni?” asked Ned.

“You bet they are, baas, bully fine. You eat one, and then you will find out.”

“No, thanks; I’ll take your word for it, old man. They ought to be good for something, since they have used up the country.”

“Oh, next rains will make that all right.”

“Meantime, I suppose there will be starvation amongst the game?”

“No; they will eat these as we do; after that they will move off to other parts.”

In another couple of hours the company arrived at the cliffs. The ground was still covered with locusts, which had been unable to rise, and the stream-bed was completely filled, so that no water could be seen.

In front of them yawned a chasm of about a hundred yards wide. Wall-like precipices rose on either side and stretched upward for five thousand feet with hardly a break. A few fissures and cracks were discernible here and there, but no ledge which could afford a foot or handgrip for even the most expert climber.

The ground was hard and stony, yet even here, as far as they could look into the cavity, it was overspread with locusts.

The stream penetrated this barren gully, and also continued as far as they could see. Eastward and west these same smooth precipices extended, like a coastline until merged in distance. Serrated on the ridges, at long intervals they presented similar openings to the one they now stood before. Possibly these were water-sheds in the rainy seasons, but at present there were no signs of streams flowing. After a careful survey east and westward, Ned decided that the Rhodes river opening was the most promising route to follow.

Without any more hesitation, he strode into the shadow of the cliffs and out of the sun glare, crushing his hundreds of locusts each step he took. The rest followed him obediently, still singing as they went along.

A crowd of aasvogels had come down from their lofty watching-posts, and were busy glutting themselves with the locusts. These vultures merely lifted their ugly bald heads and bare necks and looked at the invaders as they passed, and then continued their feasting, hardly budging out of the way.

After penetrating for about a mile of this shadow-land they crossed the belt of locusts, and found that the ground was ascending.

It was paved with water-worn smooth rocks between patches of yellow sand, and rose in a series of steppes. In the centre of this channel, the brook still ran purling and clear over its stony bed, with here and there small fringes of vegetation at its edges. All else, however, round and above them was sterile in the extreme. A deep silence brooded over this rocky valley, which, although at present in shadow, was intensely hot and airless. The sun glared on the upper half of one side, but the rocks in the bed still retained the heat where it had lately shone. As they walked, our heroes felt as if enclosed in a bakehouse.

They were winding round a corner, when suddenly Cocoeni and the other Kaffirs uttered cries of affright and rushed into the middle of the running stream, where they stood in a line, trembling. Ned and his chums at once promptly followed their example; then they asked—

“What is it, Cocoeni, that frightens you?”

“Look, baas, the bashikonay is coming!”

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