he better part of valour," said Emson quietly. "It
would be dark by the time we got there, and on your own showing, the
field is in possession of the enemy. Why, Dyke, old fellow, it would be
about as mad a thing as we could do to drive a couple of bullocks up to
where perhaps half-a-dozen lions are feasting. I ought to have known
better, but it did not occur to me. These brutes must have been
following the herds. There's only one thing to do."

"What's that? Go near and fire to scare them away?"

"To come back again, after they had left us the mangled remains of the
eland. No good, Dyke: we shall be safer in our own beds. It's only
another failure, old chap. Never mind: we may get game to-morrow."

Dyke tried to oppose this plan of giving up, but it was only in a
half-hearted way, and they rode back slowly towards Kopfontein, pausing
from time to time for the oxen to catch up, Jack growing more and more
uneasy as the night came on, and running after them and leaving the
oxen, if they came to be any distance ahead.

The result was that he was sent on first with the slow-paced bullocks,
and Dyke and his brother formed themselves into a rearguard,
necessitated from time to time to come to a full stop, so as to keep in
the rear.

It was nearly morning when they reached home, and after fastening their
cattle safely behind fence and rail, they sought their own beds, where
Dyke sank at once into a heavy sleep, waking up when the sun was quite
high, with some of the previous evening's confusion left; but the whole
of the day's adventure came back in a flash as his eyes lit upon Duke,
fast asleep upon a skin, and with the lost cartridge pouch between his
paws.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

JACK BEHAVES HIMSELF.

The necessity for providing fresh provisions took the brothers out again
next day, but there were no more herds visible, as far as their glass
would show, anywhere out upon the plain; but at last they caught sight
of half-a-dozen of the graceful little springboks, and after a long
gallop got close enough to try a couple of shots, which proved
successful; and a little buck was borne home in triumph, a portion
cooked, and Dyke sat watching his brother eat that evening, till Emson
looked up.

"Why, hullo!" he cried; "not well?"

"Oh yes, I'm quite right," replied Dyke hastily.

"Then why don't you eat?"

"Because I wanted you to make up for the past," said the boy, laughing.
"I'm a meal ahead of you. I