lties, and in the midst of this almost overwhelming
calamity down came the Kafirs on the Albany District, and the
Bergenaars, of whom we have just been speaking, not, like men, to fight
openly--that were endurable,--but like sly thieves in the dead of night,
to carry off sheep and cattle from many of the farms--in some cases even
killing the herdsmen. Now, what think you must be the feelings of the
settlers towards these Kafirs and runaway robbers?--can _they_ forgive?"

Bertha didn't know. She thought their feelings must be very harsh.
Diverging from the question, however, she returned to the first regret--
namely, that her friend Ruyter had joined the Bergenaars.

"Hallo! Considine, hi! where are you?" came the sonorous voice of
Conrad Marais in the distance, interrupting the conversation. Next
moment the hearty countenance of the farmer followed his voice round the
corner of the house.

"Come, get your gun, my boy!" he cried in some excitement. "These
villains have been down last night and carried off two spans of my best
oxen, besides killing and devouring several sheep."

Considine started up at once.

"We shall be off in half an hour," continued the farmer; "Hans is away
gathering one or two neighbours, and the people are almost ready."

"Do you accompany them?" asked Considine.

"Of course I do. Come along."

The youth required no urging. In a few minutes he was armed and
mounted, galloping in company with a score of horsemen--black, brown,
and white--towards the cattle-kraals. Here was already assembled by
Hans a troop of mounted men, among whom were Jan Smit and his three
sons, David, Jacob, and Hendrik, also the hunter Van Dyk. After a brief
consultation, in which Van Dyk took a prominent part, they rode off at a
smart gallop.

We change the scene now to a large and dark cavern up among the wild
heights of the Winterberg mountains.

It was evening, but the sun had still a considerable distance to descend
before finding its bed on the western horizon. A faint gleam of day
entered the cave, which was further illuminated by three fires, over
which a band of savage-looking dark-skinned men were roasting chops and
marrow-bones. Abdul Jemalee the Malay slave and Booby the Bushman were
there, assisting at the feast. At the inner end of the cave, seated
beside two men, was Ruyter the Hottentot. He was a good deal changed
from the rough but careless and jolly fellow whom we first introduced to