"Lamont--what the
devil's this? Here it's nearly time to start again, and you never
turned me out to take my watch. How about your own snooze, eh?"

"Don't want one. You do. So that's all right."

"You needn't kick up such an infernal row, Peters," snapped Ancram,
irritable with fatigue and discomfort, as he rolled over on the other
side and snored afresh.

"Oh, let the wretched devil snooze," said Lamont. "I don't want to. I
couldn't close a peeper if I were paid to."

That night they travelled on again, using extra caution, for they had
got into populated country where there were kraals about. One of these
they came right upon in the darkness, and the deep-toned voices of its
inhabitants came quite clearly to them. Then the furious barking of
dogs, who had heard or scented them, made a lively moment; however,
thanks to the merciful darkness, they were able to withdraw.

At daybreak the following morning they were even more perilously
situated, for the land was flat and sparsely bushed, and it was only by
keeping the cover of an overhung and nearly dry river-bed that they
could find any concealment at all. Moreover, a smoke here and there at
no great distance located a kraal.

"We seem to have got into a beastly dangerous corner," grumbled Ancram.
"When are we going to get to Gandela."

"We'd have got there to-day, only we've come out of our way to warn
Tewson. We'll strike his place directly."

Then Ancram broke forth. So they had come out of their way, and run
their heads into this perilous hobble when by now they might have been
safe and sound at Gandela--and all for this! What had they got to do
with warning other people! Hadn't they enough to do to save their own
lives! Who was this Tewson, when all was said and done? Some beastly
cad, he supposed.

"He's a white man," answered Lamont, "and he's got womenkind and
children at his place."

But Peters was boiling over.

"You infernal, selfish, cowardly swine," he began. "Let me tell you
that we help each other in this country. And if it wasn't that we were
in the hobble we are, I'd have pleasure in punching that silly, selfish,
rattletrap noddle of yours till your own mother wouldn't know it from a
rotten pumpkin."

Let it not be supposed this was all Peters said, but then his remarks
were not for publication--_in toto_, whereas the record of the same--_in
parte_--is.

The fierce tone and threatening attitude cowed Ancram, and he s