burly form, the vast red
beard, the rifle carried--as Dirk always carried his--by the muzzle end,
with the stock poised behind his shoulder--it was none but Dirk
Starreberg himself. But there was something amiss with him. He looked
worn and troubled, almost distraught, it seemed to me, at that distance;
and he gazed neither to right nor left of him, but passed hurriedly and
very swiftly in front of me at a distance of about eighty paces.

"`Hallo! Dirk!' I shouted. `Allemaghte! war loup jij? Wacht een
bitje, Dirk!' (Almighty! where are you off to? Wait a little, Dirk!)
To my utter astonishment, the man took not the slightest notice, but
passed on. I became indignant, and yelled, `Dirk, Dirk, have you no
manners? It's me, George Kenstone. I want you. Stop!' Still the man
passed on. In another moment he had reached the bush again. He turned
now, beckoned to me with his right hand, and, in another instant, had
disappeared into the low forest.

"I was extremely annoyed, and after staring like a fool for a second or
two, struck in spurs rather sharply and galloped after him. I was not
three seconds in reaching the bush where he had entered, but, to my
surprise, Dirk had vanished. I searched hither and thither, shouted--
ay, swore--but still no Dirk. I came back, at length, to the point
where I had last seen the Boer. Surprise Number 3. There was my own
spoor as plain as a pikestaff in the red sand, but of Dirk Starreberg
_not one trace of spoor was to be seen_!

"Now, spoor, as you all know, is a thing that never lies. I had seen
Dirk cross the clearing and enter the bush at this point. Where were
his tracks? I got off my horse and hunted carefully every bit of the
way across the glade where I had seen Dirk pass. I am a reasonable good
veldt-man, but--so help me God!--I never could find one trace of the
man's spoor, this way or that. I rubbed my eyes. It was
incomprehensible. I searched again and again, carefully and
methodically, with the same result. There was always my own and my
horse's spoor, but no one else's.

"By this time I was not a little bothered. There must be some infernal
mystery which I could not fathom. My eyesight had never yet failed me.
It was broad daylight, and I was neither asleep, nor dreaming, nor
drunk. An old childish superstition crept for an instant upon my mind,
to be instantly cast aside. And yet the flesh, even of grown manhood,
is weak. I remember distinct