ould those two Kafirs have had. But
we'd better get on, boys. We'll off-saddle further ahead, and then our
horses will be fresh for whatever may turn up. It's my opinion there
are more of those chaps hanging about."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

THE TABLES TURNED.

Eager at the prospect of a brush, their appetites for which had been
whetted by what had just occurred, they resumed their way in the best of
spirits, and at length fixing upon a suitable spot the party off-saddled
for breakfast.

"We ought to fall in with a patrol of Brathwaite's Horse lower down,"
remarked a man, stirring the contents of a three-legged cooking-pot with
a wooden spoon. "Then we should be strong enough to take the bush for
it and pepper Jack Kafir handsomely."

"If we can find him," rejoined another with a loud guffaw. "Hallo!
Who's this?"

A dark form appeared in the hollow beneath. Immediately every man had
seized his rifle, and the moment was a perilous one for the new arrival.

"Hold hard! Don't fire!" cried Shelton. "It's only a single Kafir.
Let's see what the fellow wants." And lowering their weapons they
awaited the approach of a rather sulky looking native, who drew near
with a suspicious and apprehensive expression of countenance.

"Who are you and where do you come from?" asked Shelton.

"From down there, _Baas_," replied the fellow, in fair English, jerking
his thumb in the direction of a labyrinth of bushy kloofs stretching
away beneath. "They have taken all my cattle--the Gcalekas have. I can
show you where to find theirs."

The men looked at each other and several shook their heads
incredulously.

"What are you? Are you a Gcaleka?" asked Shelton.

"No, _Baas_. Bomvana. I'm Jonas. I'm a loyal Mission-station boy."

"Oh, the devil you are! Now, then, Jonas, what about these cattle?"

Then the native unfolded his tale--how that in the forest land
immediately beneath them was concealed a large number of the Gcaleka
cattle--a thousand of them at least. There were some men in charge,
about sixty, he said, but still the whites might be strong enough to
take the lot; only they would have to fight, perhaps.

Carefully they questioned him, but from the main details of his story he
never swerved. His object, he said, was to be revenged on the Gcalekas,
who had billeted themselves in the Bomvana country and were carrying
things with a high hand. But Shelton was not quite satisfied.

"Look here, Jonas," he s