Over their tops Haviland
glimpsed the quick arrowy flight.

"A sparrow-hawk, by Jingo!" he said. "Sure to have a nest here too."

A keen and careful search revealed this, though it was hidden away so
snugly in the fir-top, that it might have been passed by a hundred
times. The Zulu boy begged to be allowed to go up.

"I think not this time, Cetchy," decided Haviland. "It's an easy climb,
but then you haven't had enough practice in stowing the eggs, and these
are too good to get smashed."

It was not everything to get up the tree: half the point was to do so as
noiselessly as possible, both of which feats were easy enough to so
experienced a climber as Haviland. He was soon in the fir-top, the
loose untidy pile of sticks just over his head; another hoist--and
then--most exciting moment of all, the smooth warm touch of the eggs.
The while the parent bird, darting to and fro in the air, came nearer
and nearer his head with each swoop. But for this he cared nothing.

"Look, Cetchy," he whispered delightedly as he stood once more on _terra
firma_ and exhibited the bluish-white treasures with their rich sepia
blotches. "Three of them, and awfully good specimens. Couple days
later there'd have been four or five, still three's better than none.
You shall have these two to start your collection with, and I'll stick
to this one with the markings at the wrong end. What's the row?"

For the Zulu boy had made a sign for silence, and was standing in an
attitude of intense listening.

"Somebody coming," he whispered. "One man."

Haviland's nerves thrilled. But listen as he would his practised ear
could hear nothing.

"Quick, hide," breathed the other, pointing to a thick patch of bramble
and fern about a dozen yards away, and not a moment too early was the
warning uttered, for scarcely had they reached it and crouched flat to
the earth, when a man appeared coming through the wood. Peering from
their hiding-place, they made out that he was clad in the velveteen suit
and leather leggings of a keeper, and, moreover, he carried a gun.

He was looking upward all the time, otherwise he could not have failed
to see them, and to Haviland, at any rate, the reason of this was plain.
He had sighted the sparrow-hawk, and was warily stalking her, hence the
noiselessness of his approach. The situation was becoming intensely
exciting. The keeper was coming straight for their hiding-place, still,
however, looking upward. If