ease and rapidity. Then this
ceased, giving way to tumbled and broken rocks, every here and there
heavily overgrown with trailers. Above, on one side great rugged
krantzes walled him in. Not for many miles further down could he strike
the open country again. Greenoak had never been along this river bank
before, but his experienced eyes took in the hang of it completely.

Suddenly he stopped dead short, listening intently. In front--and not
very far in front--the sound of deep-toned voices. In a moment he had
slipped into a cleft between two rocks, and had drawn the trailers over
him; and it seemed hardly a moment more when a number of fully armed
Kafirs appeared, moving leisurely along the way he had come, but taking
the upward course of the bank. But for their utter unguardedness, they
would have met him face to face. As it was, they passed so near as
almost to brush the trailers which afforded him such precarious
concealment. He held his very breath, so near were they.

They were talking at random, and a good deal all at once--and something
was said about a roast, and how good it was, and the speakers passed on
while others succeeded, talking about nothing in particular. But Harley
Greenoak, through the interstices, recognised several of them, among
others, Mafutana and Sikonile, whose son he had shot. Then he knew that
this hiding-place had received him not a moment too soon.

The last of the Kafirs had gone by, but Greenoak was in no hairy to
move. When, finally, he decided that it was time to do so, the sun was
already flaming up from beyond the Kei hills, and the birds were
breaking into song, twittering and calling from the cool shade of
krantzes, or balancing on twig and spray, joyous, perky, in the glow of
the new-born day.

Suddenly he halted. No sight, no sound, had thus pulled him up, but--an
odour. For there came to his nostrils a strong smell as of cooking, and
it came from in front. He remembered how some of the Kafirs had been
talking about a "roast." Of course, he was coming to where they had
spent the night, and had feasted--probably upon stolen stock. Well, he
would investigate. But--what if there should be others there?

Cautiously he advanced, weapons ready, peering before him, listening,
the strange odour stronger with every step, and he found himself hoping
they might have left some of their repast, for he could do with a broil
himself. And then--

Not altogether unfamilia