lly for those who are under canvas," said Eustace with a
significant glance at a group of tents pitched upon the plain just
outside the village. For the surrounding _veldt_ had been turned into
something like a sea, and a miniature torrent roared down every
depression in the ground.

"Well, Mr Milne," cried Mrs Hoste, from the head of the table, as the
two men entered. "Its past three o'clock and dinner has been ready
since half-past one. We quite expected you then."

"Which, being interpreted, means that I must prepare for the worst," was
the rejoinder. "Never mind. I dare say we shan't starve. Well, and
what's the latest absurdity in the way of news?"

"Just what I was going to ask you. You're hand-in-glove with all the
Kafir chiefs. You ought to be able to give _us_ all the news."

Eustace smiled to himself. He could tell them a few things that would
astonish them considerably, if he chose. But he did not choose.

"We'll loaf round the village presently," said Hoste. "Likely enough
we'll hear something then."

"Likely enough it'll be about as reliable as usual," said Eustace.
"What was the last report? Kreli and the Gcaleka army encamped at the
Kei Drift--be here in two hours?"

"It's all very well to laugh," said Mrs Hoste. "But what if we were
attacked some fine night?"

"There isn't the ghost of a chance of it. Especially with all these
wondrous fortifications about."

"I wish I thought you were serious. It would be a relief to me if I
could think so."

"Pray do think so, Mrs Hoste. There is no sort of chance of this place
being attacked; so make your mind easy."

"What do you think of our crib, Milne?" struck in Hoste.

"It seems snug enough. Not palatial, but good enough for all purposes.
You were lucky to light upon it."

"Rather. There isn't so much as the corner of a rat hole to be had in
the whole place now. But, it's knocked off raining," as a bright gleam
of sunlight shot into the room. "Only a thunder-shower. We seem to
have done dinner. Let's go out and pick up the latest lie. By the way,
you don't want to go home again to-night, Milne? We can give you a
shake-down on the sofa."

"The fact is I don't. To-morrow will do just as well, and then I
suppose I'll have to trek with the stock down to Swaanepoel's Hoek,
while Tom, thirsting for death or glory, fills up that tally slick he
was telling us about last night."

"But don't you intend to volunteer for the front