icine, and many an incipient forest lay along the valleys
and down the sides of the Qua-Quas. So behold April an hour or two
later, faring forth with a pick and a basket full of saplings, followed
by Clive leading the Kerry cow, who was sick and needed exercise.

They lunched in the open, resting from their labours and savouring the
sweetness of food earned by physical labour. Care was stuffed out of
sight, dreams and ghosts faded in the clear sun-beaten air, and again
April realized what life could mean in this wonderful land, given the
right companionship, and a clean heart. But Clive, with arms clasped
about her knees, sat munching apricots and staring with a strange
sadness at her forests of baby trees. There was an unfulfilled look on
her face, spite of living her own life, and following her star.
Neither Africa nor life had given her all she needed.

Later they wended their way back full of the happy weariness engendered
by honest toil. But nearing home Clive lifted her nose, and sniffing
the breeze like a wild ass of the desert sensing unfamiliar things
scowled bitterly.

"Petrol!" she ejaculated. "One of those stinking motor-cars! Why
can't people use horses, like gentlemen? What's the matter with a nice
mule, even?"

As they slouched warily round the house and came in view of the stoep
she emitted a staccato whistle of dismay. Tethered out upon the
vagabondish grass was--not one motor-car, but three! An opulent thing
of blinking brass and crimson leather arrogated to itself the exclusive
shade of the largest tree; a long grey torpedo affair of two seats
occupied the pasturage of the Kerry cow; and blistering in the
sunshine, with several fowls perched upon it, was an ancient Ford
wearing the roystering air of a scallywag come home for good.

"That old _boch-ma-keer-ie_ bird knew something!" muttered the painter.
"I don't like the look of this!"

They paused to take counsel of each other, then presently advanced,
Clive approaching her own front door with the stealthy glide of a
pickpocket, April tip-toeing behind her. The idea was to get indoors
without being seen, listen in the hall to discover whether the visitors
were agreeable ones, and if not, to take refuge in the kitchen until
they had departed. Unfortunately one of them came out of the front
door to shake his pipe on the stoep as Clive and April reached the
steps.

"Why, it's old Kerry Sarle!" cried Clive heartily, and stealth fell
f