anied by another man, a neighbouring settler of the name of Hoste,
a pleasant, cheery fellow, who was a frequent visitor at Anta's Kloof.

"Well, Mrs Carhayes," cried the latter, flinging his right leg over his
horse's neck and sliding to the ground side-saddle fashion, "your
husband has been pretty well selling up the establishment to-day. What
do you think of that? Hallo, Milne. How 'do?"

"I've made a good shot this time," assented Carhayes, "I've sold off
nearly three thousand of the sheep to Reid, the contractor, at a pound a
head all round. What do you think of that, Eustace? And a hundred and
thirty cattle, too, heifers and slaughter stock."

"H'm! Well, you know best," said Eustace. "But why this wholesale
clearance, Tom?"

"Why? Why, man, haven't you heard? No, of course he hasn't. War!
That's why. War, by the living Jingo! It's begun. Our fellows are
over the Kei already, peppering the niggers like two o'clock."

"Or being peppered by them--which so far seems to be the more likely
side of the question," struck in Hoste. "A report came into Komgha
to-day that there had been a fight, and the Police had been licked.
Anyhow, a lot more have been moved across the river."

"Wait till _we_ get among them," chuckled Carhayes. "Eh, Hoste? We'll
pay off some old scores on Jack Kafir's hide. By the Lord, won't we?"

"_Ja_. That's so. By-the-by, Mrs Carhayes, I mustn't forget my
errand. The wife has picked up a cottage in Komgha, and particularly
wants you to join her. She was lucky in getting it, for by now every
hole or shanty in the village is full up. There are more waggons than
houses as it is, and a lot of fellows are in tents. They are going to
make a big _laager_ of the place."

Eanswyth looked startled. "Are things as bad as all that?" she said.

"They just are," answered Hoste. "You can't go on staying here. It
isn't safe--is it, Carhayes? Everyone round here is trekking, or have
already trekked. I met George Payne in Komgha to-day. Even he had
cleared out from Fountains Gap, and there's no fellow laughs at the
scare like he does."

"Hoste is right, Eanswyth," said Carhayes. "So you'd better roll up
your traps and go back with him to-morrow. I can't go with you, because
Reid is coming over to take delivery of the stock. Eustace might drive
you over, if he don't mind."

Eustace did _not_ mind--of that we may be sure. But although no glance
passed between Eanswyth and h