e ruthlessly
speared, the bloodthirsty savages roaring with delight as they tossed
the miserable little wretches to and fro among each other, on the
blades of their great assegais. Then they went away, leaving the
bleeding and mangled corpses lying in the gateway, and calling out to
the sick occupant of the place that the time for killing white people
had not come yet.

"`From there they proceeded to the camp of two prospectors named
Skelsey and Spence. The last-named was away, but Skelsey had got wind
of their coming and had promptly put his camp into a position of
defence--and prepared to give them a warm reception. When they
arrived he showed them his magazine rifle and revolver, and called out
to the induna in command that he was going to shoot until he hadn't a
cartridge left, if they advanced a step nearer. They did not appear
to relish the prospect, and drew off, uttering threats. Thus this
brave fellow saved the lives of his four scared and cowering Mashona
servants, who, however, showed their appreciation by deserting next
day.

"`Blachland, it is reported, is out of favour with Lo Bengula, who
recently ordered him out of his country for some reason or other,
while he was on a trading trip at Bulawayo.'"

Then followed some more comments on the insecurity of life and property
at the mercy of savage neighbours, and the necessity for prompt and
decided action, and the paragraph ended.

"I suppose there's no doubt about it being Hilary?" said Percival, when
the reader had stopped. "Blachland isn't such a common name, and he did
go out there as a trader or something. By Jove, wouldn't I like to be
with him!"

Both his seniors smiled. They were thinking his wish might soon be
realised.

"Down with fever, poor chap!" said Sir Luke. "But that up-country fever
isn't fatal, I've heard, not if men take proper care of themselves. He
ought to have a run home though. The voyage would soon set him on his
feet again."

"Rather!" echoed Percival, enthusiastically. "It would be grand to see
the dear old chap again."

"Well, perhaps we may, Percy, perhaps we may," rejoined his uncle,
rather excitedly. "How would you like to go over and fetch him?"

"Me? By George! I'd like it better than anything else in the world.
But--suppose he wouldn't come?"

"Of course he'd come. Why shouldn't he come?" testily answered Sir
Luke, to whom this afterthought was not a pleas