ter them came Masheesh, his long
straight spear in his hand, his ostrich plume streaming backwards in the
wind, his limbs naked save the usual ox hide round the waist. Singling
out the wounded buck, the Matabele brave followed it. Its foreleg
hanging useless, still the antelope struggled on, bidding fair to get
away, but Noti headed it, and the animal came struggling along, in a
direction which would lead it to within ten paces of the savage chief.
Poising the long bright assegai, Masheesh stood for a moment motionless,
while a gleam of light seemed to traverse the air, and the antelope fell
heavily forward. The next, Masheesh bent over the struggling deer, the
sharp curved knife flashed across the throat, a stream of blood
followed, a few convulsive efforts, and all was still. This was a noble
buck, measuring nine feet from the horns to the base of the tail, while
the length of the horns was fully three, the deer standing nine feet
high measured at the shoulder.

Sending the eland meat to camp, the hunters took their way to the river
bank, searching for the spoor of the lion. Right opposite the spot
where the remains of the deer lay, the river running between, a deep
hole was dug, so deep that only the head and neck of a man standing in
it would appear above the level ground. Between it and the remains of
the deer, the stream formed a kind of pool. To the right ran the chain
of mountains, while in front the plain was clear, the water a little
lower down, pouring over a ledge of rock, so as to form a miniature
cataract. Heavy timber grew right down to the river's edge, the
branches of some of the trees dipping into the water. The hole was dug
at the foot of a tree, and all round it grew long, rank grass, and
tangled brushwood, save where it was cleared away in front.

About nine o'clock that night, Captain Hughes, accompanied by Luji, who
carried a spare rifle, took his way down to the river.

"I climb in tree?" asked Luji. "Master hid away in hole?" His English
was plain enough, but not very grammatical.

"No, thank you, Luji," replied the soldier, laughing; "remember the
lioness of Zoutpansburgh."

"Three lions there," replied the other; "and Luji not know missionary in
tree."

"Well, well, just you bundle off to camp, Luji, and go to sleep. If I
am not back directly after daybreak, send to look for me."

"Luji come himself," said the man, with the air of a hero. "Good-night,
master."

"Good-nig