; it seems to me as though the strength
were ebbing away from him. Now he scarcely leaves the kraal, I have to
manage everything about the farm; he does nothing but read and think."

Just then Hendrika entered, bearing a jug of coffee in one hand and of
milk in the other, which she set down upon the table, casting a look of
little love at me as she did so.

"Be careful, Hendrika; you are spilling the coffee," said Stella. "Don't
you wonder how we come to have coffee here, Mr. Allan? I will tell
you--we grow it. That was my idea. Oh, I have lots of things to show
you. You don't know what we have managed to do in the time that we have
been here. You see we have plenty of labour, for the people about look
upon my father as their chief."

"Yes," I said, "but how do you get all these luxuries of civilization?"
and I pointed to the books, the crockery, and the knives and forks.

"Very simply. Most of the books my father brought with him when we first
trekked into the wilds; there was nearly a waggon load of them. But
every few years we have sent an expedition of three waggons right down
to Port Natal. The waggons are loaded with ivory and other goods, and
come back with all kinds of things that been sent out from England
for us. So you see, although we live in this wild place, we are not
altogether cut off. We can send runners to Natal and back in three
months, and the waggons get there and back in a year. The last lot
arrived quite safe about three months ago. Our servants are very
faithful, and some of them speak Dutch well."

"Have you ever been with the waggons?" I asked.

"Since I was a child I have never been more than thirty miles from
Babyan's Peak," she answered. "Do you know, Mr. Allan, that you are,
with one exception, the first Englishman that I have known out of a
book. I suppose that I must seem very wild and savage to you, but I have
had one advantage--a good education. My father has taught me everything,
and perhaps I know some things that you don't. I can read French and
German, for instance. I think that my father's first idea was to let me
run wild altogether, but he gave it up."

"And don't you wish to go into the world?" I asked.

"Sometimes," she said, "when I get lonely. But perhaps my father is
right--perhaps it would frighten and bewilder me. At any rate he would
never return to civilization; it is his idea, you know, although I am
sure I do not know where he got it from, nor why he cannot bea