e truth. I am sure
you didn't enjoy it."

No, to her own surprise, she had not enjoyed it. She even watched
him go with regret. There was that about Burke Ranger at the
moment which made her wonder if possibly the harsh conception she
had formed of him were wholly justified.

As for Burke, he went straight out to his horses, looking neither
to right nor left, untied the reins, and drove forth again into the
_veldt_ with the dust of the desert rising all around him.

CHAPTER XI

THE STORM

Hans Schafen met his master on the boundary of Blue Hill Farm with
a drawn face. Things were going from bad to worse. The drought
was killing the animals like flies. If the rain did not come soon,
there would be none left. He made his report to Burke with a
precision that did not hide his despair. Matters had never before
looked so serious. The dearth of water had begun to spell disaster.

Burke listened with scarcely a comment. Blue Hill Farm was on
rising ground, and there had always been this danger in view. But
till this season it had never materialized to any alarming extent.
His position had often enough been precarious, but his losses had
never been overwhelming. The failure of the dam at Ritter Spruit
had been a catastrophe more far reaching than at the time he had
realized. It had crippled the resources of the farm, and flung him
upon the chances of the weather. He was faced with ruin.

He heard Schafen out with no sign of consternation, and when he had
ended he drove on to the farm and stabled his horses himself with
his usual care. Then he went into his empty bungalow. . .

Slowly the long hours wore away. The sun rose in its strength,
shining through a thick haze that was like the smoke from a
furnace. The atmosphere grew close and suffocating. An intense
stillness reigned without, broken occasionally by the despairing
bleating of thirst-stricken sheep. The haze increased, seeming to
press downwards upon the parched earth. The noonday was dark with
gathering clouds.

At the hour of luncheon there came a slight stir in the bungalow.
Mary Ann thrust her amazing visage round the door and rolled her
eyes in frightened wonder at what she saw. The big _baas_ was
lying across the table, a prone, stricken figure, with his head
upon his arms.

For a few seconds she stood in open-mouthed dismay, thinking him
dead; for she had never seen him thus in life. Then she saw his
shoulders heave con