ere are they?" whispered Dyke. "At the wagon?"

"No, not come; Jack come say Tant Sal go 'way to-night 'long o' Jack.
Gone fetch Kaffir, carry mealies. Come."

She took his arm tightly and led him to the door, which he found ajar,
and as soon as they were outside she closed it after them.

"Stop a moment. Let's have the dog."

"No: dog make noise, and Jack top. Come."

The woman led him to the wagon, and mounting on to the box, opened the
canvas and crept in silently, while the boy hesitated to follow.

Suppose it was a trap, and Tanta had her husband and two or three men in
waiting there.

"Absurd!" he thought the next moment. "Why should they hurt me? They
could have robbed the wagon without."

Mounting then quickly, he felt his arm seized, and he was half drawn
into the wagon, where all was black on one side, while the canvas tilt
showed faintly in the moonlight on the other.

Dyke was just able to make out that the woman was watching by the
canvas, which hung over the front; then she reached back to him.

"Jack say try kill Baas Dyke, but dog come. Kill Baas Dyke some day."

"That's nice," whispered the boy. "What for?"

"Jack tief. Want wagon, want horse, want all."

"Then it's war," said Dyke, "and he shan't have them."

"Shoo!" whispered the woman, and she leaned forward with her head half
out of the opening. Then turned quickly.

"Jack come, Jack one, Jack one, Jack one."

"Four of them?" whispered Dyke.

"Oomps. Baas Dyke shoot."

The boy pressed the triggers as he drew up the cocks of his piece, so
that the clicking made was extremely faint, and then stood ready and
expectant. But he had not long to wait. For almost directly there was
a dull sound as of footsteps; a heavy breathing, and hands tugged at the
tightly fastened canvas at the back of the wagon. Then there was a low
whispering. Whoever it was passed along to the front of the wagon, and
then there was a heavy breathing as the visitors swung themselves up on
to the wagon-box, Dyke judging from the sounds that either three or four
people had climbed up. Then the canvas was dragged back, and as Dyke
pointed his gun, hesitating about firing, and then deciding to shoot
overhead to startle the marauders, one crept in.

At that moment there was a whizz and the sound of a tremendous blow,
followed by a loud yell of pain and a perfect shower of blows delivered
with wonderful rapidity upon the attacking party, who sprang ou