ird," and he picked himself up and slipped off to his work.

Notwithstanding the apparent impossibility of the thing, John was
considerably disturbed, knowing the extraordinary speed with which
tidings do travel among Kafirs, more swiftly, indeed, than the fleetest
mounted messenger can bear them. Leaving Bessie, who was also somewhat
alarmed, he went in search of Silas Croft, and, finding him in the
garden, told him what Jantje had said. The old man did not know what to
make of the tale, but, remembering Frank Muller's threats, he shook his
head.

"If there is any truth in it, that villain Muller has a hand in it," he
said. "I'll go to the house and see Jantje. Give me your arm, John."

He obeyed, and, on arriving at the top of the steep path, they perceived
the stout figure of old Hans Coetzee, who had been John's host at the
shooting-party, ambling along on his fat little pony.

"Ah," said Silas, "here is the man who will tell us if there is anything
in it all."

"Good-day, _Oom_ Coetzee, good-day!" he shouted out in his stentorian
tones. "What news do you bring with you?"

The jolly-looking Boer rolled awkwardly off his pony before answering,
and, throwing the reins over its head, came to meet them.

"_Allemachter_, _Oom_ Silas, it is bad news. You have heard of the
_bymakaar_ at Paarde Kraal. Frank Muller wanted me to go, but I would
not, and now they have declared war on the British Government and sent
a proclamation to Lanyon. There will be fighting, _Oom_ Silas, the land
will run with blood, and the poor _rooibaatjes_ will be shot down like
buck."

"The poor Boers, you mean," growled John, who did not like to hear her
Majesty's army talked of in terms of regretful pity.

_Oom_ Coetzee shook his head with the air of one who knew all about it,
and then turned an attentive ear to Silas Croft's version of Jantje's
story.

"_Allemachter!_" groaned Coetzee, "what did I tell you? The poor
_rooibaatjes_ shot down like buck, and the land running with blood! And
now that Frank Muller will draw me into it, and I shall have to go and
shoot the poor _rooibaatjes_; and I can't miss, try as hard as I will, I
_can't_ miss. And when we have shot them all I suppose that Burgers
will come back, and he is _kransick_ (mad). Yes, yes; Lanyon is bad, but
Burgers is worse," and the comfortable old gentleman groaned aloud at
the troubles in which he foresaw he would be involved, and finally took
his departure by a bridle-pat