day's rest for ourselves and horses, and the day
after to-morrow we'll start. Hallo, Kaatje, where's old Dirk, by the
way?"

The Koranna woman's voluble and effusive greeting seemed damped by the
question. She answered, guiltily--

"Old Dirk, Baas? He went away to visit his brother at Bruintjes Kraal--
and bring back half a dozen goats which he sent over there before the
drought. I expect him back this evening--any evening."

"That's what comes of putting these wretched people into a position of
trust," said Renshaw, bitterly. "How long has he been away, Kaatje?"

"Only a week, Baas. Don't be _kwaai_ with Dirk, Baas. My nephew
Marthinus has been taking his place right well--right well. Don't be
_kwaai_ with Dirk, _myn lieve Baas_!"

But Renshaw was very much disgusted. The old man had been with him for
years, and he had always found him honest and trustworthy far beyond his
people. Yet no sooner was his back turned than the fellow abandoned his
post forthwith.

"This is rather annoying, Sellon," he said. "Here old Dirk has gone
spreeing around somewhere, and goodness only knows when he'll be back.
I meant to have taken him with us this time. He might have been
useful."

"Ever taken him before?"

"No. I didn't want too many people in the secret. This time it
wouldn't matter, because we shall find the place."

"You seem strangely confident, Fanning," said Sellon, thinking of the
missing document.

"I am. I've a sort of superstition I shall hit upon it this time.
However, come in, and we'll make ourselves as comfortable as we can,
with the trapful of luxuries from more civilised parts. It'll be canned
goods to-night, I'm afraid. It's too late to order the execution of a
goat."

Having seen Marthinus, above alluded to, and who was a smartish
Hottentot lad, outspan the buggy and stow away the harness, Renshaw
strolled round to the kraals. Alas! the remnant of his flocks--now a
mere handful--huddled away in a corner, spoke volumes as to the recent
devastation. But the animals, though few, were quite in condition
again.

The gloaming fell, and still he lingered on there alone. Sellon, who
never favoured unnecessary exertion, had established himself indoors
with a cigar and some brandy-and-water. The darkling plain in its
solemn silence was favourable to meditation, and the return to his
solitary home aroused in Renshaw a keen sense of despondency. What if
this new expedition should prove