John Seapoint."

The mist, which had lightened on the plain, still hung heavy on the
higher ridges. This was all in their favour.

Under the guidance of Sketchley, the Colonial-born trooper, they were
not long in reaching their objective.

"We'll leave the horses here," said this man. "Now--silence is the
word, I need hardly say. You, Simpson, you're a clumsy beast, you know,
but for Heaven's sake don't kick so much as a little stone this time."

The reply was a growling promise to punch the speaker's head when all
was over, and they started their stealthy climb. Not long did it take,
and then, at a word from Sketchley, all halted for a hurried breather.

Above was the lip of the hollow the Kafir had described. There were the
two trees overhanging--all corresponded exactly. But what if the said
hollow were bristling with armed savages? What if they had walked into
a palpable trap--was the thought that occurred to them now. Tolangubo
had not said that the two chiefs were alone, they now remembered;
immediately consoling themselves with the thought that it would not have
made much difference if he had.

With beating hearts the five peered over the ridge. There, not a
hundred yards distant, squatted four Kafirs. Four. Which of the two
were the chiefs?

"That's Vunisa," whispered Dick Selmes, excitedly. "I'd swear to him
anywhere."

But the whisper, faint though it was, reached the ears of the
keen-witted savages. These sat bolt upright, listening. All four, with
a subtle movement, reached for their arms; two for their rifles, the
others for their assegais.

"That settles it," breathed the Colonial man. "The ones with the guns
are the chiefs. Now, we mustn't give away the smallness of our force.
Let 'em think there's a crowd behind. Come on, now."

The five advanced, covering the group with their revolvers.

"Yield, chiefs!" cried Sketchley, in the Xosa tongue. "If a man moves
he is shot."

A man did move, making a sudden spring to get away. Him Sketchley
promptly and unerringly shot dead. This told. The remaining three
stood, sullenly awaiting events.

"Drop your weapons, or you are all shot," he went on.

The Kafirs stared, and, believing him, sulkily obeyed.

"Don't quit covering them for a moment," cried Dick Selmes. "I'll go
in, and tie them up."

They had brought reims from their horses' headstalls. With these Dick
now approached. There was no mistaking the chiefs. Vunisa a