ul eye was kept upon him. Vunisa and Pahlandhle
accepted the position with sullen philosophy. They were told that they
would be kept as hostages for the good behaviour of their people--an
announcement which filled them with no exhilaration, remembering as they
did, though keeping the knowledge to themselves, that the Gudhluka
Reserve was a very Alsatia, and comprised plenty of turbulent spirits,
whose allegiance to themselves was purely nominal. But there they were,
and their rations were regular, and the Police were not stingy with
tobacco; so the philosophy of the savage stood them in good stead:
"Sufficient unto the day."

"Well, Greenoak. It seems to me we are making a real frontiersman of
our friend here," said the Commandant, going on the while sorting out
and otherwise arranging his "specimens," as calmly as though they had
not spent the morning in defeating and thoroughly routing a few thousand
of bloodthirsty savages. "Wounded too? Never mind, Selmes. Think what
a lot of yarns you'll have to spin to the people at home."

"Oh, I don't mind that, Commandant. But--er--Blunt says it's a toss up
whether I'll be able to take a hand in any more fights for a month or
so. And by that time the war may be over."

"Hope so, I'm sure," was the dry reply. "Eh, Greenoak?"

The latter nodded.

For the Police surgeon--Dr Blunt--a tall, pleasant-mannered Irishman--
had examined and duly dressed Dick's wound, informing him that, although
not serious, it was not a thing to play the fool with.

"You see, Selmes," he said, "you are such a rash, impetuous beggar. I
suppose if some nigger were to sneak in to-night and tell you he knew
where to capture old Kreli, you'd start out on the spot and try and do
it. Well, let me remind you there's such a thing as blood-poisoning.
It's all right now, but if you get acting the ass with this thing, open
and running as it'll be for the next few days, why, there's no telling.
No, my boy. You'll have to wear your arm in a sling till I tell you to
take it out. What then? Why, you'll only look the more interesting.
Anyway, it's only your left fin."

This was some consolation. For it enabled Dick to sit down and write a
full, true, and particular account of the two battles and their sequel
to Hazel Brandon, and, incidentally, to his father, to be sent when the
Commandant should elect to send through despatches reporting recent
affairs.

"What do you make of this beast, Greenoa