es) might
have come to know also. And if _they_ had known----"

"Mad!" interrupted Brother John, tapping his forehead, "quite mad, poor
fellow! Well, in these depressing circumstances it is not wonderful."

I inspected Hans again, for I agreed with John. Yet he did not look mad,
only rather more cunning than usual.

"Hans," I said, "tell us where this rifle is, or I will knock you down
and Mavovo shall flog you."

"Where, Baas! Why, cannot you see it when it is before your eyes?"

"You are right, John," I said, "he's off it"; but Stephen sprang at Hans
and began to shake him.

"Leave go, Baas," he said, "or you may hurt the rifle."

Stephen obeyed in sheer astonishment. Then, oh! then Hans did something
to the end of his great bamboo stick, turned it gently upside down and
out of it slid the barrel of a rifle neatly tied round with greased
cloth and stoppered at the muzzle with a piece of tow!

I could have kissed him. Yes, such was my joy that I could have kissed
that hideous, smelly old Hottentot.

"The stock?" I panted. "The barrel isn't any use without the stock,
Hans."

"Oh! Baas," he answered, grinning, "do you think that I have shot with
you all these years without knowing that a rifle must have a stock to
hold it by?"

Then he slipped off the bundle from his back, undid the lashings of the
blanket, revealing the great yellow head of tobacco that had excited my
own and Komba's interest on the shores of the lake. This head he tore
apart and produced the stock of the rifle nicely cleaned, a cap set
ready on the nipple, on to which the hammer was let down, with a little
piece of wad between to prevent the cap from being fired by any sudden
jar.

"Hans," I exclaimed, "Hans, you are a hero and worth your weight in
gold!"

"Yes, Baas, though you never told me so before. Oh! I made up my mind
that I wouldn't go to sleep in the face of the Old Man (death). Oh!
which of you ought to sleep now upon that bed that Bausi sent me?" he
asked as he put the gun together. "_You_, I think, you great stupid
Mavovo. _You_ never brought a gun. If you were a wizard worth the name
you would have sent the rifles on and had them ready to meet us here.
Oh! will you laugh at me any more, you thick-head of a Zulu?"

"No," answered Mavovo candidly. "I will give you _sibonga_. Yes, I will
make for you Titles of Praise, O clever Spotted Snake."

"And yet," went on Hans, "I am not all a hero; I am worth but half my
weight in