he
began to think of his plans for the evening. He was determined to keep
awake this time, and to do this he felt that he must have company. The
Kaffirs were hardly likely to come by night, he felt, and so he would
not leave the dog to watch, but going out, called him down out of the
wagon, tied down the canvas curtains back and front, fed the dog well,
and stood at the door waiting until the faithful beast had finished,
watching the while. Then once more he noticed the peculiar light at the
back of the kopje, looking as if the moon were rising, though that could
not be, for there was no moon visible till long after midnight.

But Dyke was too weary to study a question of light or shadow, and as
soon as Duke had finished he called the dog in, closed the door, did
what he could to make poor Emson comfortable, and sat down to pass the
night watching.

But nature said again that he should pass it sleeping, and in a few
minutes, after fighting hard against the sensation of intense
drowsiness, he dropped off fast as on the previous night, but started
into wakefulness in the intense darkness, and sat up listening to the
low growling of the dog, and a terrible bellowing which came from the
pens, where the cattle should be, if they had returned after their many
hours' liberty.

Returned they had for certain, and one of the great, placid beasts was
evidently in a state of agony and fear, while a rushing sound of hoofs
close to where the wagon stood, suggested that the horses and bullocks
had taken flight.

The reason was not very far off from the seeker, for all at once, just
as the piteous bellowings were at their height, there came the terrific
roaring of a lion, evidently close at hand, and this was answered by a
deep growling by the cattle-pens, telling that one lion had struck down
a bullock, and was being interrupted in his banquet by another
approaching near.

Dyke rose, and went to the corner of the room where the loaded rifles
stood, then walked softly toward the door to stand peering out, but not
a sign of any living creature was visible. In fact, a lion could not
have been seen a couple of yards away, but, all the same, the loud
muttered growlings told plainly enough that both the fierce beasts were
close at hand.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

A BIT OF NATURE.

There seems plenty of reason in supposing that the tremendously loud,
full-throated roar of the lion at night is intended to scare the great
brute'