a name--well, all we old-time traders were tarred with
the same brush. I could name more than one who made his pile on the
same terms; I could also name a big firm or two in Natal who has made a
bigger pile on the same terms. However, we're not running this load
into the country, but out of it."

The speaker and Alaric Denham were helping to load up a waggon, part of
the contents of which were consigned for shipment at Durban. One
important item of the load was a case containing the record koodoo head.
There were other specimens, too, which Denham had collected.

The latter had been Ben Halse's guest about three weeks now, and as he
had only just got up his outfit, and luggage in general, from the coast
port it looked as though he were destined to prolong his sojourn for
some time. And, indeed, from his point of view, there was every
inducement for doing so. He and the trader had taken greatly to each
other, and once when he had mooted the idea of leaving the other would
not hear of it.

"We seem all jolly together," Ben Halse had said, in his bluff,
straightforward way. "You take us as you find us, and you seem to me a
man who would fit in anywhere. Further, you have got into a queer part
of the world such as you may never get into again. You are collecting
new things every day. So why hurry? You are welcome as long as you can
stick it."

To which Denham had replied that he had enjoyed every day of his stay as
he had seldom if ever enjoyed anything; and he would give himself plenty
of time to wear out his welcome. And he and his host had sealed the
compact then and there over a glass of grog.

Now he said--

"I shall be relieved when this load is fairly on board. That head, you
know, is a sort of a nightmare. All the rest put together isn't in with
it."

"Oh, you can trust Charlie Newnes," said the trader. "He's a straight,
reliable man as ever was--a darn sight more so than lots of men who are
quite white--and stands well with those who _baas_ this show now. I was
shooting what I chose here in these parts when these new officials--damn
them!--were being licked at school, before ever they dreamed of coming
here to tell an old up-country man like me that he mustn't shoot this
and mustn't shoot that. I don't know what the devil we're all coming
to. Oh, here is Charlie."

A tall, well-set-up young fellow appeared on the scene. He was the son
of a well-known old-time trader by a Zulu wife, but i