he serene and cloudless blue of heaven.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

TOO LATE.

"Not even a bucket, to give the poor devils of mules a drink,
Fullerton," said Wyndham, who had been investigating around. "Really,
Skrine's beastly inconsiderate."

"Oh, mules are like donkeys," was the impatient answer. "They can get
along on a thistle and a half. The only thing to do is to make 'em."

"Oh, can they! Well, in this case I'm afraid they've got to. Come up!"

He shook up the reins and cracked his whip. The long-suffering beasts
tautened to their collars, and pulled out again. They were rather fine
animals, with a strong Spanish cross in them, and attaining somewhat to
the Spanish dimensions. Still, by the time another three miles had been
covered, it was evident that they had lost heart. Their spirits and
their pace alike began to flag. It was a hot day, and Matabeleland is a
thirsty country, to beast no less than to man.

Somehow, too, the spirits of the party seemed to suffer in proportion.
Nothing is more depressing than driving a flagging team, and Wyndham
accordingly was less given to mirth and anecdote, even with the stimulus
of Clare Vidal at his side, than he had been up till now. Fullerton,
characteristically, became snappish and ironical, and roundly cursed
Skrine--poor Skrine--for leaving his place shut up and useless. What
business had a man to keep a roadside store--and, of course, canteen--
unless it were for the benefit of travellers? They ought to object to
the renewal of such a fellow's licence, by Jove they ought! Thus
Fullerton.

"I don't believe we'll get to the Kezane before dark at this rate," he
growled, "even if we get there at all. We shall probably have to
outspan in the veldt. What do you think, Wyndham?"

"Oh, we'll get there all right."

"Er? And what if it's shut up too?"

"Then we'll have to make a camp, that's all. See now, Fullerton, the
point of my loading up emergency supplies. You were inclined rather to
poke fun at the idea this morning."

"By Jove, you're right after all," conceded Fullerton.

"I've been that way before, and experience, if a hard teacher, is a
jolly effective one," said Wyndham. "We shall have to spare the mules a
bit though. They're not going at all well."

Then Lucy Fullerton announced she had a headache. She had been looking
forward to a cup of tea at Skrine's, and missing this, combined with the
heat of the day, had given her a headache