s, whom they found good-natured and hospitable--also
very shrewd at a bargain!

Thus they took root and began to grow.

But before many of these things occurred Hans Marais came over the
mountains, according to promise, and "Professor" Considine was fain to
bid the Scotch settlers farewell, promising, however, to return and
visit them on some future day.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

GIVES SOME ACCOUNT OF A GREAT LION-HUNT.

Although the lion's roar had been frequently heard by the settlers of
Glen Lynden, some months elapsed before they came into actual conflict
with his majesty. By that time the little colony had taken firm root.
It had also been strengthened by a few families of half-castes or
mulattos.

One morning it was discovered that a horse had been carried off by a
lion, and as his track was clearly traceable into a neighbouring kloof,
the boldest men of the settlement, as well as some Dutchmen who chanced
to be there at the time, were speedily assembled for a regular hunt
after the audacious thief.

It was a great occasion, and some of the men who became noted for
prowess in after years began their career on that day. George Rennie,
who ultimately acquired the title of the Lion-hunter, came to the
rendezvous with a large elephant-gun on his shoulder; also his brother
John, fearless and daring as himself. Then followed the brothers
Diederik and Christian Muller,--frank, free, generous-hearted Dutchmen,
who were already known as among the most intrepid lion-hunters of South
Africa; and Arend Coetzer of Eland's-drift; and Lucas Van Dyk, a tall
dark muscular man of about six feet two, with a bushy black beard, and
an eye like an eagle's, carrying a gun almost as long and unwieldy as
himself; and Slinger, Allie, and Dikkop, their sturdy Hottentot
servants, with Dugal, a half-tamed Bushman, the special charge of Mr
Pringle. These and several others were all armed with gun and spear and
knife.

Soon our friend Sandy Black, who had been summoned from work in his
garden, joined them with a rusty old flint-lock gun. He was followed by
young Rivers, with a double-barrelled percussion of large calibre, and
by Kenneth McTavish, accompanied by his wife and Jessie, both imploring
him earnestly, "not to be rash, and to keep well out of danger!"

"Oh! Kenneth," entreated Mrs M, "_do_ be careful. A lion is _such_ a
fearful thing!"

"My dear, it's _not_ a `thing', it's an _animal_," growled Kenneth,
trying to induc