e, to drive off a dozen
or two to Nteya's location."

There was reason in this, and Carhayes acquiesced with a snarl. To
collect the scattered sheep was to the two mounted men a labour of no
great difficulty or time, and with a stern injunction to Goniwe not to
be found playing the fool a second time, the pair turned their horses'
heads and rode homeward.

CHAPTER THREE.

EANSWYTH.

Anta's Kloof--such was the name of Tom Carhayes' farm--was situated on
the very edge of the Gaika location. This was unfortunate, because its
owner got on but poorly with his barbarous neighbours. They, for their
part, bore him no good will either.

The homestead comprised a comfortable stone dwelling in one story. A
high _stoep_ and veranda ran round three sides of it, commanding a wide
and lovely view of rolling plains and mimosa sprinkled kloofs, for the
house was built on rising ground. Behind, as a background, a few miles
distant, rose the green spurs of the Kabousie Heights. A gradual ascent
of a few hundred feet above the house afforded a splendid view of the
rugged and table-topped Kei Hills. And beyond these, on the right, the
plains of Gcalekaland, with the blue smoke rising from many a clustering
kraal. Yet soft and peaceful as was the landscape, there was little of
peace just then in the mind of its inhabitants, white or brown, for the
savages were believed to be in active preparation for war, for a
concerted and murderous outbreak on a large scale, involving a
repetition of the massacres of isolated and unprepared settlers such as
characterised similar risings on former occasions; the last, then,
happily, a quarter of a century ago.

Nearer, nearer to his western bed, dipped the sinking sun, throwing out
long slanting darts of golden rays ere bringing to a close, in a flood
of effulgent glory, the sweet African spring day. They fell on the
placid surface of the dam, lying below in the kloof, causing it to shine
like a sea of quicksilver. They brought out the vivid green of the
willows, whose feathery boughs drooped upon the cool water. They
blended with the soft, restful cooing of ring doves, swaying upon many a
mimosa spray, or winging their way swiftly from the mealie lands to
their evening roost and they seemed to impart a blithe gladsomeness to
the mellow shout of the hoopoe, echoing from the cool shade of yonder
rugged and bush-clad kloof.

Round the house a dozen or so tiny ostrich chicks were picki