stones never hit the side once. But now, to
mark the Eye. It won't shine in the daylight."

He proceeded to untie what looked like a bundle of sticks. In reality
it contained a short bow and several arrows. Next he produced some
lumps of chalk rolled up in rags.

"What an ingenious dodger you are, Fanning!" cried Sellon, admiringly,
watching his companion carefully fitting the lumps of chalk on the heads
of several of the arrows. "So that's what you brought along that bundle
of sticks for. I thought you had an eye to the possibility of our
ammunition giving out."

Renshaw smiled. Then stringing the bow, he bent it once or twice,
tentatively.

"That'll do, I think. It's pretty strong is this little weapon of war.
Old Dirk made it for me after the most approved method of his people.
You know Korannas and Bushmen are archers in contra-distinction to the
assegai-throwing Kafir tribes. Now for a shot."

Drawing out one of the chalk-tipped arrows to its head, he took a
careful aim and let fly. The bow twanged, and immediately a faint thud
told the expectant listeners that the shaft had struck very near the
mark.

"That'll make a good splash of chalk wherever it has struck," said the
marksman approvingly, fitting another arrow. But on the twang of the
bow there followed a metallic clink instead of the softer thud of the
first missile.

"That bit of chalk's come off," said Renshaw. "However, let's try
again."

This time the result seemed satisfactory. Again and again was it
repeated until half a dozen arrows had been shot away.

"That'll put half a dozen chalk splashes round the Eye, or as near it as
possible, for our guidance at daybreak," said Renshaw, approvingly.
"Now we'll drop a white flag or two about."

Fixing small strips of rag, well chalked, to the butt-ends of several
more arrows, he shot them away, one after another, in the direction of
the first.

"We'll go back now, and get out our gear. We can't do anything before
daybreak. The place may be easy to get down into on one side, or it may
be well-nigh impossible. But, hang it all, Sellon, there ought to be no
such word for us as impossible with _that_ in front of us."

Once more they turned to look back, as though unwilling to go out of
sight of the marvel, lest it should elude them altogether. Opposite,
the misty loom of cliffs was now discernible, and between it and them,
down in the shadowy depths, that flashing star still shone c