r to be angry
or not. But the insidious imitation of her tone in the last two words
was too much, and she burst out laughing.

"Ssh!" he said, reprovingly. "We mustn't make such a row, or Prior will
get all the shots. Nothing will come our way."

Hardly were the words out of his mouth than the dogs burst into cry
again. But the sound did not come their way, whatever had been roused
had broken away at right angles. Then away back and above there rang
out a shot.

"Prior again," whispered Elvesdon. "What did I tell you?"

They waited in silence. Then Edala whispered:

"Poor chance now. There's Manamandhla just underneath. The drive is
nearly over."

The Zulu was, as she had said, just beneath. He had halted, and bending
down seemed to be trying to get a thorn out of his foot. At the same
time Thornhill appeared in sight riding slowly down the other side.
Suddenly he caught sight of Manamandhla.

He was barely a hundred yards away. The very expression of his face,
the quick, stealthy manner in which he had dismounted--was apparent to
the two watchers--and then--Thornhill was taking deliberate aim at the
unconscious Zulu. At that short distance he could not miss.

The sharp, warning cry that escaped the pair came too late--yet not, for
the bullet just grazed its intended mark, and glancing off a rock hummed
away right over Edala's head, so near, indeed, that she involuntarily
ducked.

"Father. It's Manamandhla," she cried. "You nearly shot him."

"Did I. Serve him right if I had," came back the answer. "What's the
fool doing stalking on all fours instead of keeping on his hind legs?
That's the way to get shot by mistake in thick bush."

Edala and her companion had exchanged glances. Neither had meant to do
so, wherefore the glance of each was quick, furtive, involuntary. And
the glance of each revealed to the other that both knew that that shot
had not been fired by mistake at all.

"You nearly shot me too, father," Edala said, as he joined them, and
there was an unconscious coldness in her tone. Thornhill's face lost
colour.

"You had no business to be where you are," was all he said whatever he
may have felt. "Your position was quite two hundred yards further down.
Nothing brings about shooting accidents so much as people changing the
positions they arranged to take up."

"Lucky we did or Manamandhla would have been shot," she returned, and
felt angry with herself for being unable to