lmost as great as Sellon's. He had been going about all these
weeks, thinking the record of his precious secret as secure as ever, and
all the while it was in the dubious care of a slovenly old Koranna
woman.

But on the subject of how it came into her possession old Kaatje was
reticent. She had taken care of it while the Baas was sick--and, but
for her, it might have been lost beyond recovery. More than this he
could not extract--except an earnest recommendation to look after it
better in the future. However, its propitiatory object was
accomplished, and he could not do otherwise than pardon the defaulting
Dirk, on the spot.

The fact was, she had witnessed the stranger's doubtful proceedings, and
having her suspicions had determined to watch him. When she saw him
deliberately steal her master's cherished "charm," she thought it was
time to interfere. She had accordingly crept up to the open window and
reft the paper out of Sellon's hand--as we have seen.

So poor old Greenway's ghost may rest absolved in the matter, likewise
the Enemy of mankind and the preternaturally accomplished baboon. And,
although she did not state as much, the fact was that the Koranna woman
had intended to return the document upon Renshaw's recovery, but had
refrained, on seeing him about to take his departure in company with the
strange Baas, whom she distrusted, and not without good reason.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

THE TWO TURRET-HEADS.

"Hurrah! The scent is getting warm," cried Sellon, as winding round a
spur they came into full view of a huge coffee-canister-shaped mountain.

It was the end of the third day's trek. Making an early start from the
snug camping-place where we last saw them they had pushed steadily on
until the heat of the day became too oppressive. Then after a long rest
they had resumed their march, and now it was evening.

"Yes, but it'll have to get warmer still to be of much use," replied
Renshaw. "Look! There's the other turret-head."

High aloft, rising from behind the slope of the first, a great "elbow"
of cliff started into view. Then a turn of their road once more hid it
from sight.

"There are the two referred to by poor old Greenway," said Renshaw.
"The third, the smaller one, lies beyond them to the north-west."

"Eh? Then why on earth are we going in slap the opposite direction?"

For the "poort" they had been threading here came to an abrupt
termination, splitting off into a gradua