oon Head. Of course we could only go at
a foot pace, so our progress was slow. Stella walked for some way in
silence, then she spoke.

"Tell me, Mr. Allan," she said, "how it was that I came to find you
dying in the desert?"

So I began and told her all. It took an hour or more to do so, and she
listened intently, now and again asking a question.

"It is all very wonderful," she said when I had done, "very wonderful
indeed. Do you know I went out this morning with Hendrika and the dogs
for a ride, meaning to get back home by mid-day, for my father is ill,
and I do not like to leave him for long. But just as I was going to
turn, when we were about where we are now--yes, that was the very
bush--an oribe got up, and the dogs chased it. I followed them for the
gallop, and when we came to the river, instead of turning to the left as
bucks generally do, the oribe swam the stream and took to the Bad Lands
beyond. I followed it, and within a hundred yards of the big tree the
dogs killed it. Hendrika wanted to turn back at once, but I said that
we would rest under the shade of the tree, for I knew that there was a
spring of water near. Well, we went; and there I saw you all lying like
dead; but Hendrika, who is very clever in some ways, said no--and you
know the rest. Yes, it is very wonderful."

"It is indeed," I said. "Now tell me, Miss Stella, who is Hendrika?"

She looked round before answering to see that the woman was not near.

"Hers is a strange story, Mr. Allan. I will tell you. You must know that
all these mountains and the country beyond are full of baboons. When I
was a girl of about ten I used to wander a great deal alone in the hills
and valleys, and watch the baboons as they played among the rocks. There
was one family of baboons that I watched especially--they used to live
in a kloof about a mile from the house. The old man baboon was very
large, and one of the females had a grey face. But the reason why
I watched them so much was because I saw that they had with them a
creature that looked like a girl, for her skin was quite white, and,
what was more, that she was protected from the weather when it happened
to be cold by a fur belt of some sort, which was tied round her throat.
The old baboons seemed to be especially fond of her, and would sit with
their arms round her neck. For nearly a whole summer I watched this
particular white-skinned baboon till at last my curiosity quite
overmastered me. I noticed t