do, you know."

"Of course not," said Hazel, who was really feeling very anxious. "I
declare by now I hate the sight of these horrible wretches. I never
want to set eyes on one again."

"Well, you won't in England," said Dick, slily. "There are none there,
you know."

They were in among the group now, which parted to make way for them.
Two or three gave them the good day, but it was in a derisive way, and
asked for tobacco. Dick shook his head to signify that he had none, for
he did not choose to stop in the middle of that wild-looking crowd,
after recent experience. The savages leered at Hazel with bold stare,
and muttered to each other. Again it was as well that neither of the
two understood a word of what they said.

"What on earth have they got all those ox-tails for, I wonder?" she
remarked, when they were through. For each had been the bearer of
several severed tails, with the hide on, raw and red.

"Probably to make soup with," laughed Dick. "Contact with civilisation
must have taught them the luxury of the kitchen as well as that of the
cellar. There's the store."

As they drew near the long, low, brick building, roofed with corrugated
iron, the store-keeper came out. He was a tall, elderly man, with a
grizzled beard. Dick had met him before.

"Why, it's Mr Selmes," he said, putting out a hand. "How' do. How'
do, Miss." Then again to Dick, "Where's Greenoak?"

"Oh, he's away on some mysterious errand of his own."

"I'm afraid he'll go on one o' them once too often. I'm afraid I'm in a
poor way to entertain ladies, but I've got the coffee kettle on, but
only tinned milk."

Hazel declared she wanted nothing better, and Sampson, disappearing
inside, fished out a ricketty chair.

"You'll be better here nor in there," he said. "Kafirs and raw-hides,
and so on, don't make the inside of a shanty pleasant."

As he went in again Dick followed him.

"What's your idea as to the state of things, Sampson?" he said.

"My idea? There'll be hell let loose, d'rectly. Nothing'll stop it.
You'd better warn Waybridge, from me, to trek."

"No!"

"Yes. See. None of 'em come round trading now; no, not even for
drinks. Just now, though, I had a robustious mob of Sandili's Gaikas
round here buying ox-tails. There's been a trade in them lately."

"What do they want them for, eh? Ox-tail soup?"

The other looked at him pityingly--then emitted a dry guffaw.

"Soup? War fal-lals, that's what t