ur fate," roared Van Dyk, "if you don't stop."

He might as well have roared to a mad buffalo. Considine heeded or
heard not.

"It won't do," growled the hunter in a stern soliloquy as he stopped a
moment to tighten his belt. "Well, well, I little thought, Van Dyk,
that you'd be brought to such a miserable fix as this, in such a stupid
way too. But he mustn't be left to the Bushmen's tender mercies."

The hunter's swart countenance grew darker as he spoke, for he well knew
the extremity of danger into which the reckless youth was compelling him
to run, but he did not hesitate. Instead, however, of following in the
steps of one who was fleeter of foot than himself, he made a detour to
the right. In an hour he reached a cliff under which, he knew, from the
form of the valley up which the pursuit had been conducted, his young
companion must needs pass. The route he had taken was a short cut. He
had headed Considine and saw him, a few minutes later, in the gorge
below, in full pursuit of the robber.

"H'm!" grunted Van Dyk, as he sat down on a rock and examined the
priming of his great elephant-gun, "I thought as much! The black
scoundrel is just playing with him--decoying the young idiot on till he
gets him surrounded by his comrades; but I'll spoil his game, though
it's like to be the last shot I'll ever fire."

A low quiet sigh escaped from the hunter as he watched the two men and
awaited the proper moment.

He was evidently right in his conjecture, for, as they drew near the
cliff, the black man looked over his shoulder once or twice and
slackened his pace. The next moment he gave a shout which proved to be
a signal, for two of the robbers sprang out from the bushes and seized
Considine, almost before he had seen them. Vigorously he struggled, and
would perhaps have thrown off both, had not the man he had been chasing
turned and run to aid the others.

Quickly but steadily Van Dyk raised his gun and covered this man. Next
moment the muzzle was struck aside, the ball flew harmlessly into the
jungle, and the hunter was pinioned, overthrown, and rendered helpless
by four of the robbers, who had been watching his motions all the time.

Van Dyk was not taken much by surprise. He knew that such danger was
probable, and had done his best to avoid it. With that self-command
which a life of constant danger in the woods had taught him, he bowed to
the inevitable, and quietly submitted to be bound and led away