aved her.

Out into the air again. Not another glance dare she venture into that
scene of hideous butchery. Out into the air again. The same golden sun
was shining, the same fair earth, the same feathery foliage peaceful in
the afternoon light. But within? The world began to go round with her.
She staggered as though to sink into a swoon, when--

What was that? A cry? A moan? From the back of the house it seemed to
come, and it was distinctly that of a human being in pain. Thither
Nidia flew. The sound had created a diversion, and had certainly saved
her brain from giving way from shock and fright.

A form was lying on the ground covered with blood and dust. Nidia
recognised it in a moment for that of Hollingworth's eldest boy--the
youthful hunter whose prowess she had been about to congratulate.

"Jimmie!" she cried, bending over him. "Jimmie, my poor child, what has
happened? What have they done to you--to--to everybody?"

Her voice broke down, and she could only sob piteously. She tried to
raise the boy's head, but he screamed.

"Oh, don't--don't! Oh, it hurts!"

To her horror, Nidia saw something of the extent of the terrible
injuries the poor little fellow had received. Besides a huge bump on
the side of the head he was covered with assegai-stabs. Yet he was
still alive. Amid his moans, he looked up suddenly.

"Oh, it's you, Miss Commerell!" he gasped.

"Yes--yes. Oh, my dear little boy, what does it all mean?" she wailed,
her voice thrilling with horrified pity.

A gleam came into the boy's eyes, and for the moment he seemed to forget
his agony.

"I--plugged two of the devils," he said--"two of them. One was Qota,
our boy. He got the charge of buckshot, the other the bullet. Then
they hit me on the head with a kerrie. Oh-h!"

He sank back groaning under a renewed spasm of pain. This, then, was
the double shot Nidia had heard. She saw now the meaning of the bloody
trail which she had imagined was that made by the youthful hunter
dragging home his quarry. The miscreants had dragged away the bodies of
their own dead. Two of them had been sent to their account, red-handed,
and that by this mere child, either in defence of those who were all to
him, or revengeful in his rage and grief. Bit by bit she got at the
truth.

He was returning from an unsuccessful stalk, and had gained the outside
of the bush behind the house, when he heard a low prolonged scream
proceeding from with