ime the
trader himself came to the conclusion that it might be as well to
institute a search.

The missing man had left an idea as to where he was going. But,
starting from that point, an exploration of hours failed to elicit the
slightest trace. Inquiries among natives, too, proved equally futile.
None had so much as glimpsed any solitary white man. They had called at
Sapazani's kraal, but the chief was absent. It was in this direction
that Denham had announced his intention of wandering. Undhlawafa,
however, promised to turn out a party of searchers. Night fell again,
and Denham was still missing.

Strong, feverishly energetic, Verna had taken an active part in the
search; but for any trace they could find, or clue they could grasp, the
missing man might have disappeared into empty air. Even her father now
looked gloomy, and shook a despondent head. There were perilous clefts
about those wild mountain-tops half concealed in the grass, into which a
man might easily fall and thus effectually perform his own funeral.
That this one might have done so was now her father's belief, but to
Verna herself another alternative held itself out. What if he had been
secretly followed and arrested for that which he had done? Or what if
he had detected such danger in time and felt moved to go into hiding?
Somehow neither of these alternatives seemed convincing. The heartsick,
despairing agony of the girl was beyond words.

Four days thus went by, Verna was despairing, her father gloomy. To the
latter she had now confided Denham's story; they had arranged between
them that this should be done in the event of certain contingencies.
Ben Halse came to the conclusion that this rather tied his hands, for to
advertise the disappearance would be to draw too much attention to a man
who had every reason for avoiding it.

It was night. Verna stood in the open door looking forth. A faint
snore now and again from another room told that her father had subsided
into obliviousness, but to-night she herself could not sleep; indeed,
but for the sheer physical exhaustion of the day she would never have
been able to sleep at all. The soft velvet of the sky was afire with
stars, and above the dismal howl of prowling hyenas would now and again
rise the distant song and roar of savage revelry from some kraal far out
on the plain beneath. Back in the sombre recesses of the mountains
weird, indescribable sounds, disguised by echo, the voic