ceived, but in this he
was mistaken. Hans Marais, having heard Considine's account of his talk
with Ruyter about Jemalee, had been troubled with suspicions about the
former, which led to his paying more than usual attention to him. These
suspicions were increased when he observed that the Hottentot went
frequently and uneasily into the bushes, and looked altogether like a
man expecting something which does not happen or appear. When,
therefore, he noticed that after supper, Ruyter's anxious look
disappeared, and that, after looking carefully round at his comrades, he
sauntered into the bush with an overdone air of nonchalance, he quietly
took up his heavy gun and followed him.

The youth had been trained to _observe_ from earliest childhood, and,
having been born and bred on the karroo, he was as well skilled in
tracking the footprints of animals and men as any red savage of the
North American wilderness. He took care to keep the Hottentot in sight,
however, the night being too dark to see footprints. Lithe and agile as
a panther, he found no difficulty in doing so.

In a few minutes he reached an open space, in which he observed that the
Hottentot had met with a Kafir, and was engaged with him in earnest
conversation. Much however of what they said was lost by Hans, as he
found it difficult to get within ear-shot unobserved.

"And why?" he at length heard the savage demand, "why should I spare
them for an hour?"

He spoke in the Kafir tongue, in which the Hottentot replied, and with
which young Marais was partially acquainted.

"Because, Hintza," said Ruyter, naming the paramount chief of Kafirland,
"the time has not yet come. One whose opinion you value bade me tell
you so."

"What if I choose to pay no regard to the opinion of any one?" demanded
the chief haughtily.

Ruyter quietly told the savage that he would then have to take the
consequences, and urged, in addition, that it was folly to suppose the
Kafirs were in a condition to make war on the white men just then. It
was barely a year since they had been totally routed and driven across
the Great Fish River with great slaughter. No warrior of common sense
would think of renewing hostilities at such a time--their young men
slain, their resources exhausted. Hintza had better bide his time. In
the meanwhile he could gratify his revenge without much risk to himself
or his young braves, by stealing in a quiet systematic way from the
white men as th