or in
some other way becoming feeble, wanted a change of air. Her father,
recalling the invitation, and happening to know that Hans was in
Grahamstown at the time, drove her over with Mrs Scholtz and Junkie to
make the thing proper, and offered a visit of all three. You may be
sure Hans did not refuse to take them to his home in his new cart.
After spending some time there Mrs Scholtz took a fancy that she would
like to go with Hans on one of his frequent excursions to Glen Lynden,
but she would not leave Junkie behind. Hans objected to Junkie at
first, but finally gave in, and thus the little hero found his way to
the River of Baboons.

When dressed--which was soon done, as he omitted washing--Junkie began
to consider what he had best do. Mischief, of course, but of what sort?
That was the question.

His room was on the ground floor, and had a lattice window which opened
like a door into the back premises. He pushed the window and found that
it opened. What a chance! Mrs Scholtz was still asleep, and snoring.
Absence without leave was his chief delight. In two minutes he was deep
in the jungle, panting. Knowing from long and bitter experience that he
would be pursued by the inveterate Mrs Scholtz, the urchin ran up the
kloof, bent on placing the greatest possible space between him and his
natural enemy in the shortest possible time. In this way he was not
long of drawing near to the leopard's point of observation.

No doubt that keen-sighted animal would quickly have observed the child,
if its attention had not at the moment been attracted by other and
equally mischievous game. A troop of baboons came down the kloof to
pilfer the white man's fruit and vegetables. They had evidently risen
late for breakfast, and were in a hurry to reach their breakfast parlour
before the white man should awake. There were a dozen or so of females,
several huge males, and quite a crowd of children of various ages,
besides one or two infants clinging to their mothers' waists.

It was pitiful to see the sad anxious faces of these infants. Perhaps
they knew their parents' errand and disapproved of it. More probably
they felt their own weakness of frame, and dreaded the shocks sustained
when their heedless mothers bounded from rock or stump like balls of
india-rubber. They were extremely careless mothers. Even Junkie, as he
stood paralysed with terror and surprise, could not avoid seeing that.
The troop was led by a gre