shout and sing and slacken his rein, and gallop as hard as the cob could
go.

"Yohoy there! steady, lad," cried Emson; "not so fast, or I shall lose
the spot. It's hard work, little un, keeping your eye on anything, with
the horse pitching you up and down."

Hard work, indeed, for there was no tree, bush, or hillock out in the
direction they were taking, and by which the young Englishman could mark
down the spot where he imagined the nest to be.

So Dyke slackened speed, and with his heart throbbing in a pleasantly
exhilarated fashion, he rode steadily on beside his brother, feeling as
if the big fellow were the boy once more whom as a child he used to
tease and be chased playfully in return. Emson's way of speaking, too,
enhanced the feeling.

"I say, little un," he cried, "what a game if there's no nest after all.
You won't be disappointed, will you?"

"Of course not."

"'Member me climbing the big elm at the bottom of the home-close to get
the mag's nest?"

"To be sure I do."

"Didn't think we two would ever go bird's-nesting in Africa then, did
we?"

"No; but do you think there is a nest out yonder, Joe?"

"I do," cried Emson, "I've seen several hen birds about the last few
days; but I never could make out which way they came or went. I've been
on the lookout, too, for one rising from the ground."

"But is this a likely place for a nest?"

"Well, isn't it? I should say it's the very spot. Now, just look: here
we are in an open plain, where a bird can squat down in the sand and
look around for twenty miles--if she can see so far--in every direction,
and see danger coming, whether it's a man, a lion, or a jackal, and
shuffle off her nest, and make tracks long before whatever it is gets
near enough to make out where she rose. Of course I don't know whether
we shall find the nest, if there is one. It's hard enough to find a
lark's or a partridge's nest at home in an open field of forty or fifty
acres; so of course, big though the nest is, and the bird, it's a deal
harder, out in a field hundreds of miles square, eh?"

"Of course it is."

"'Scuse my not looking round at you when I'm speaking, old chap; but if
I take my eye off the spot, I shall never find it again."

"I say, don't be so jolly particular, Joe," cried Dyke, laughing.

"Why not? It's just what you and I ought to be," said the big fellow
with simple earnestness. "We're out here in a savage land, but we don't
want to grow into sa