herself slowly toward them, snarling savagely.

And now Dyke saw what was wrong. His bullet, which he had fired in the
night, had taken terrible effect. The brute had made one bound after
being struck, and crashed through the fence, to lie afterwards
completely paralysed in the hind-quarters, so that a carefully-directed
shot now quite ended her mischievous career, for she uttered one furious
snarl, clawing a little with her forepaws, and then rolled over dead,
close to the unfortunate cow she had dragged down and torn in the most
horrible way.

Tanta ran up and kicked the dead lioness, and then burst out with a
torrent of evidently insulting language in her own tongue; after which
she went, as if nothing had happened, to where the remaining cow stood
lowing impatiently, and proceeded to milk her in the coolest way.

Dyke examined the dead beast, and thought he should like the skin, which
was in beautiful condition; but he had plenty of other things to think
of, and hurried back to the house, followed by Duke, to see how his
brother was.

There was no change: Emson was sleeping; and, reloading his piece, the
boy went out once more to see to the ostriches, which seemed in a sorry
condition, and as he fed them, he felt as if he would like to set the
melancholy-looking creatures free.

"But Joe wouldn't like it when he gets better," thought Dyke; and at
last he returned to the house to find a pail half full of milk standing
at the door, while the smoke rising from behind the building showed that
Tanta had lit a fire.

The boy's spirits rose, for the misery and solitude of his position did
not seem so bad now, and on walking round to the front of the shed-like
lodge, he found the woman ready to look up laughingly, as she kneaded up
some meal for a cake.

"Where did you get that?" cried Dyke.

"Wagon," said the woman promptly. "Jack get mealie wagon. Jack tief.
Tanta Sal get mealie for baas."

"Yes, that's right; but you should ask me. But, look here, Tant, Jack
shan't come here. You understand?"

"Jack tief," cried the woman angrily, and jumping up from her knees she
ran into the lodge, and came back with an old wagon wheel spoke in her
floury hands, flourished it about, and made some fierce blows.

"Dat for Jack," she said, laughing, nodding, and then putting the stout
cudgel back again, and returning to go on preparing the cake for
breakfast, the kettle being already hanging in its place.

Dyke nodd