It feels so--good."

He glanced up at the brazen sky. "You wouldn't say so if you
wanted rain as badly as I do," he observed. "We haven't had nearly
enough this season. But I am glad you can enjoy it."

"I like it more and more," said Sylvia. She stretched an arm
towards the wide veldt all about them. "I am simply aching for a
gallop over that--a gallop in the very early morning, and to see
the sun rise from that knoll!"

"That's a _kopje_," said Burke.

Again half-unconsciously his eyes dwelt upon her vivid face. She
seemed to draw his look almost in spite of him. He set down the
basket by her side.

"Am I to unpack?" said Sylvia.

He dropped his eyes. "No. I will. It isn't much of a feed; only
enough to keep us from starvation. Tell me some more about
yourself! Tell me about your people--your home!"

"Have you never heard of me before?" she asked. "Did--Guy--never
speak of me?"

"I knew there was someone." Burke spoke rather unwillingly. "I
don't think he ever actually spoke of you to me. We're not
exactly--kindred spirits, he and I."

"You don't like him," said Sylvia.

"Nor he me," said Burke Ranger.

She looked at him with her candid eyes. "I don't think you are
very tolerant of weakness, are you?" she said gently.

"I don't know," he said non-committally. "Won't you tell me about
yourself?"

The subject of Guy was obviously distasteful to him, yet her whole
life during the past five years had been so closely linked to the
thought of that absent lover of hers that it was impossible to
speak of the one without the other. She told him all without
reservation, feeling in a fashion that it was his right to know.

He listened gravely, without comment, until she ended, when he made
one brief observation. "And so you chose the deep sea!"

"Could I have done anything else?" she said. "Would you have done
anything else?"

"Probably not," he said. "But a man is better equipped to fight
the undercurrents!"

"You think I was very rash?" she questioned.

He smiled. "One doesn't look for caution in a girl. I think your
father deserved a horsewhipping, for letting you go."

"He couldn't prevent me," said Sylvia quickly.

"Pshaw!" said Burke Ranger.

"You're very rude," she protested.

His smile became a laugh. "I could have prevented you," he said.

She flushed. "Indeed you couldn't! I am not a namby-pamby miss. I
go my own way. I----"

She broke off suddenly. Burke