a wild and lawless set, holding an
Englishman in utter detestation. But this open and unprovoked "act of
war" surpasses anything he may have been led to expect.

"Here, hallo! You, sir! What are you blazing away at me for?" he sings
out, his tone betraying a degree of anger which prudence should have
induced him to suppress.

His hand instinctively goes to the revolver slung round him in a holster
under his coat. But of what use is a six-shooter against an enemy many
hundred yards distant, and armed with a rifle? Therefore, it is with
considerable relief that he beholds his unexpected adversary ground his
piece, stare at him for a moment, then disappear indoors.

The feeling is but transitory, however, as it occurs to him that the
fellow has probably gone in to get more cartridges, and that any moment
he may find himself once more raked by the enemy's fire. He judges it
prudent to try the effect of a parley before venturing any nearer.

"Hi! Hallo, friend!" he shouts, "just drop that target practice, will
you? There isn't an ounce of harm about me. I'm nothing but a poor
devil of a traveller lost in the veldt, and pretty well dead for want of
a drink. D'you understand?"

Then it strikes him that if the inhospitable householder is, as he
expects, a Boer, he will probably not understand.

"What _is_ to be done?" exclaims the wayfarer in sheer despair. "Well,
here goes. May as well be shot as starve in the veldt; and perhaps the
fellow's only playing the fool--trying what I'm made of--and, if I were
only within fifty, or even a hundred yards of him, the `trying' wouldn't
be all on one side."

Thus musing, he continues his advance upon the homestead, walking his
horse, and whistling in an attempt to appear thoroughly unconcerned,
although, in point of actual fact, he feels pretty much as the Six
Hundred must have done on receipt of the historic and idiotic order.
But no more leaden greetings reach him, nor does the enemy appear. All
is silent as the grave as he rides up to the house.

The front door stands wide open, exactly as the shooter had left it on
retiring therefrom. There is not a sound of anybody moving inside. The
place might have been uninhabited. Just then the sun, which all this
time has gradually been sinking, and has already touched the horizon,
disappears.

Something like a chill creeps over the traveller at the sudden gloom
which falls upon the tenement just as he is about to cros