nket,
and there made an examination. He was scratched all over, but the only
serious wounds were a bite through the muscles of the left upper arm and
three deep cuts in the right thigh just where it joins the body, caused
by a stroke of the leopard's claws. I gave him a dose of laudanum to
send him to sleep and dressed these hurts as best I could. For three
days he went on quite well. Indeed, the wounds had begun to heal
healthily when suddenly some kind of fever took him, caused, I suppose,
by the poison of the leopard's fangs or claws.

Oh! what a terrible week was that which followed! He became delirious,
raving continually of all sorts of things, and especially of Miss
Margaret Manners. I kept up his strength as well as was possible with
soup made from the flesh of game, mixed with a little brandy which I
had. But he grew weaker and weaker. Also the wounds in the thigh began
to suppurate.

The Kaffirs whom we had with us were of little use in such a case, so
that all the nursing fell on me. Luckily, beyond a shaking, the leopard
had done me no hurt, and I was very strong in those days. Still the lack
of rest told on me, since I dared not sleep for more than half an hour
or so at a time. At length came a morning when I was quite worn out.
There lay poor Scroope turning and muttering in the little tent, and
there I sat by his side, wondering whether he would live to see another
dawn, or if he did, for how long I should be able to tend him. I called
to a Kaffir to bring me my coffee, and just was I was lifting the
pannikin to my lips with a shaking hand, help came.

It arrived in a very strange shape. In front of our camp were two
thorn trees, and from between these trees, the rays from the rising
sun falling full on him, I saw a curious figure walking towards me in
a slow, purposeful fashion. It was that of a man of uncertain age, for
though the beard and long hair were white, the face was comparatively
youthful, save for the wrinkles round the mouth, and the dark eyes were
full of life and vigour. Tattered garments, surmounted by a torn kaross
or skin rug, hung awkwardly upon his tall, thin frame. On his feet
were veld-schoen of untanned hide, on his back a battered tin case was
strapped, and in his bony, nervous hand he clasped a long staff made
of the black and white wood the natives call _unzimbiti_, on the top
of which was fixed a butterfly net. Behind him were some Kaffirs who
carried cases on their heads.