ut to the stable boy to
saddle up a horse.

Edala was on the stoep as he passed out. She was putting some finishing
touches to a water-colour drawing. In his then mood he did not suggest
that she should accompany him; perhaps he feared the effect of a refusal
or a reluctant consent.

"Are you going out, father? It's awfully hot."

"Yes, I'm going a short round. Back by dinner time."

Three or four great rough-haired dogs, lying in the shade behind the
stable, sprang up as the horse was led forth, whining and squirming with
wild excitement at sight of the gun in their master's hand. He,
however, drove them back; he was not going to hunt, but there was always
the chance of coming across unwary "vermin"--a jackal perhaps, or a
_rooikat_.

The first point he made for was the scene of yesterday's episode. As he
approached it a low hum of voices was borne to his ears. Some half
dozen natives stood clustered round the spot. The carcase of Elvesdon's
horse lay swollen and distended, tainting the air, and beside it the
great snake. But on the latter was their attention concentrated.

"_Whau_! but that was the very king of serpents," one of them was
saying. "I, who am old, have never seen one like it--no never."

"M-m!" hummed his hearers. "_Nkose_!"

This in respectful greeting as they became aware of the new arrival's
presence. He acknowledged it.

"I, who am old, have never seen one like it, _impela_," repeated the
speaker. "_Nkose_. The snake--the king of snakes--has killed the
horse, but who has killed the snake?"

"The horse," said Thornhill. "He fell over on it and broke its back,
just after it had struck him."

"It is the horse of--of--the new magistrate--at Kwabulazi," went on the
other. "He was at my kraal just before."

"That is so, Tongwana. Here is _gwai_," getting out a large snuff-horn,
which came in handy on such occasions.

"_Nkose_!" cried the chief, receiving it in both hands. He was an old
man, with a white beard, and, of course, head-ringed. Two of the others
were also ringed. As Thornhill told the story of the occurrence many
were the murmurs of surprise that went up. The new magistrate at
Kwabulazi was clearly no fool of a white man, and this inference
impressed them greatly.

One of them, however, it did not seem to impress at all, and that was
one of the ringed men. He had listened in a careless, almost
contemptuous way to the narrative, uttering no remark or interj