my very nose; he and three other niggers. They'd
got two dogs, good dogs too, and I couldn't help admiring the way the
_schepsels_ put them on by relays, nor yet the fine shot they made at
the buck with a kerrie. Well, I rode up and told them to clear out of
the light because I intended to shoot their dogs. Would you believe it?
they didn't budge. Actually squared up to me."

"I hope you didn't shoot their dogs," said Eanswyth anxiously.

"Didn't I! one of 'em, that is. Do you think I'm the man to be bounced
by Jack Kafir? Not much I'm not. I was bound to let daylight through
the brute, and I did."

"Through the Kafir?" cried Eanswyth, in horror, turning pale.

"Through both," answered Carhayes, with a roar of laughter. "Through
both, by Jove! Ask Eustace. He came up just in time to be in at the
death. But, don't get scared, old girl. I only `barked' the nigger,
and sent the dog to hunt bucks in some other world. I had to do it.
Those chaps were four to one, you see, and shied Icerries at me. They
had assegais, too."

"Oh, I don't know what will happen to us one of these days!" she cried,
in real distress. "As it is, I am uneasy every time you are out in the
_veldt_."

"You needn't be--no fear. Those chaps know me better than to attempt
any tricks. They're all bark--but when it comes to biting they funk
off. That _schelm_ I plugged to-day threatened no end of things; said
I'd better have cut off my right hand first, because it was better to
lose one's hand than one's mind--or some such bosh. But do you think I
attach any importance to that? I laughed in the fellow's face and told
him the next time he fell foul of me he'd likely enough lose his life--
and that would be worse still for him."

Eustace, listening to these remarks, frowned slightly. The selfish
coarseness of his cousin in thus revealing the whole unfortunate
episode, with the sure result of doubling this delicate woman's anxiety
whenever she should be left--as she so often was--alone, revolted him.
Had he been Carhayes he would have kept his own counsel in the matter.

"By the way, Tom," said Eanswyth, "Goniwe hasn't brought in his sheep
yet, and it's nearly dark."

"Not, eh?" was the almost shouted reply, accompanied by a vehement and
undisguised expletive at the expense of the defaulter. "He's playing
Harry--not a doubt about it. I'll make an example of him this time.
Rather! Hold on. Where's my thickest _sjambok_?"

[S