" said Bully Rawson, becoming suddenly alive to the presence
of Hlabulana. "He doesn't belong in these parts. I know all them what
does."

"Oh, he's an old friend of mine," answered Fleetwood carelessly. "He
fell in with us further down, and seemed to want to come along--just for
the fun of the thing apparently. So I let him."

"Sure he ain't a spy of those damned Usutus?" said Rawson suspiciously.

"Not he. He's no sort of a spy at all."

Even then Rawson eyed the man. Had he guessed the secret that lay
within that smooth, shaven, ringed pate as Hlabulana sat, watching the
white men with indifferent interest, there was no telling what dark and
bloody tragedy might not have been the result. For the acquisition of
such wealth as this there was no crime, however treacherous, at which
that white savage would have stuck; no bloodshed, however wholesale.
But the copper-hued savage knew how to guard his secret, as well as he
had known whom to entrust with it.

The first living object to meet them as they drew in sight of Rawson's
kraal, was a young native, and to him the meeting seemed not palatable.
It seemed, in fact, a terror. He was coming along the path at a trot,
and at sight of them pulled up short and looked wildly around as though
about to take to headlong flight Rawson, spurring his horse, went for
him like an arrow.

"Ho, Pakisa!" he roared, as he curled his whiplash round the boy's naked
ribs. "So thou art skulking again, instead of being at the
wood-cutting. Now I will flog thee back to it." And with every few
words he flung out the cutting whiplash with painful effect. In vain
the victim doubled. The horsemanship of his chastiser was perfect, and
reckless with liquor and sheer lust of cruelty the ruffian would turn as
quickly as the belaboured one. At last the latter managed to wriggle
into a patch of bush where the horse could not enter.

"Keep cool, Wyvern," Fleetwood took the opportunity of saying in an
undertone. "We don't know, of course, what that young _schelm_ may have
been up to."

"What a sickening sweep!" was Wyvern's reply, with a set face.

"Well, that young brute's got what he won't forget in a hurry," cried
Rawson, rejoining them. "Skulked away from his job directly my back was
turned, and slunk up here to cadge some _tywala_. One of my wives is
his sister, you know."

"One of your what?" said Wyvern.

"Wives," shouted Bully, with an evil grin, enjoying the other's lo