ckinson, N.P., was in greater peril than he had ever been in his life.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Yonder now, Shumilana," whispered Mandevu. "The distance is near
enough. It is not safe to go nearer, but at such short distance, for
one who was taught to shoot when in the _Nongqai_, [in this instance the
Zululand Native Police], and turned out of it through him who lies
yonder, it is not possible to miss."

And the two dark figures crouched down upon the rock which overlooked
the sleeping Dickinson at about two hundred yards, while the discharged
policeman stealthily drew forward his Martini rifle and carefully
sighted it.

Wake up, Dickinson, for this man is one of the few natives who can use a
rifle with accuracy of aim, and he has been taught by the ruling race.
And he is drawing a fine "bead" on the two hundred yards sight. He held
the same rank in his corps that you hold in yours, and it was through
your agency that he was--rightly--degraded and dismissed the Force. He
is as cool-nerved as you are yourself, and is not likely to miss. Wake
up, if you would ever see the girl over in Natal again. Wake up,
Dickinson!

Just then a lizard runs over the face of the sleeper, causing him to
half jump up, half roll over. Bang, crash! and the bullet embeds itself
in the trunk of the thorn-tree, which a second before had been
supporting the weight of his body. It takes only another second for him
to throw himself flat behind a mound of loose stones surmounted by a
growth of short bush.

Sergeant Dickinson is as brave a man as there is in the Force, and that
is saying a great deal. He realises now that he is in a tight corner.
The rascal, whoever he may be, _can_ shoot; moreover, he has a rifle,
whereas he himself has only his regulation revolver. The enemy can keep
beyond range and stalk him, from a distance, at leisure. And to enforce
this side of the situation bang comes another bullet, right through the
growth of bush which surmounts the loose stones. But a Martini is a
slow-firing rifle, and the target, with lightning-like resource, has
flattened down behind the stones.

"Good line that, damn him," he growls, as the air caused by the humming
missile is distinctly perceptible above his head. "Well, I'm done at
last. He can't go on missing all day."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I thought thou couldst shoot t