lways be fresh enough to
interest the boys with his remarks and surmises about the old people who
at one time must have thickly populated the miles upon miles of ruins.

At last when the expected seemed most distant, and the exploring party
were busy turning over the ruins of a newly creeper-stripped wall, a
sharp whistle came from the camp, where Dunn Brown had been left to keep
watch over the bullocks and ponies, while Dan was busy in his kitchen,
as he called it, roughly built up in the shelter of one of the walls.
Before a second whistle rang out everyone was returning at the double,
or by as near an approach thereto as the rock and stone encumbered way
would admit.

Mark was one of the first to reach their rugged stronghold, and there
his eyes lighted at once upon a little party of five blacks, who were
squatting down, spear in hand, solemnly watching Dan, while perched
together upon the sheltering wall and looking very solemn, were Mak and
the pigmy watching them, Dan going on busily the while, roasting and
stewing the results of the previous day's hunting expedition, as if the
visitors were of no account.

There was nothing alarming in the visit, the black party seeming
perfectly inoffensive, and after sitting like so many black statues for
about a couple of hours, the doctor proposed that some food should be
given to them, and after receiving a goodly portion of roast antelope
and mealie cakes, they took their departure, to the great satisfaction
of the boys.

This visit gave rise to a long discussion and a good deal of questioning
of their two blacks; but very little could be obtained from them beyond
grunts and scowls, which showed anything but a friendly feeling towards
their visitors.

Then more days passed without further alarm; but the feeling was general
that the camp was no longer safe; the night guard was more strict than
ever, and it was an understood thing that the expedition was to be
prepared for any emergency, while everything was kept ready for an
immediate start for a return to the station.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

THE SUDDEN ATTACK.

"Mr Mark, sir!" This in Dunn Brown's most dreary tones, and before the
boy could answer there came, in almost a piteous wail, "Mr Dean, sir!"

"Hillo!" cried Mark, from where he and his cousin were seated
cross-legged like tailors, in the shade of one of the walls, repairing
damages, as they called it--that is to say, they were very untidily
sewing, u