aid. "Yes, it's always that way. Mosquitoes are always death
on a new man out from home. They don't think much of us old stagers
when they can get fresh blood. But never mind. You'll soon get used to
that."

Which was all the sympathy they met with.

CHAPTER THREE.

A FRIEND.

"Well, youngsters! And what have you been doing with yourselves since
you got ashore?"

Thus a jolly voice behind them, and a hand fell upon the shoulder of
each. They were returning from a couple of hours' row among the bushy
islets of the bay, and were strolling down the main street of Durban,
stopping here and there to look at a shop window crammed with quaint
curios and Kafir truck, or displaying photographic views representing
phases of native life and scenes up-country.

"Mr Kingsland!" cried Gerard, turning with a lively sense of
satisfaction. "Why, I thought you were going straight through."

"So I was--so I was. But I ran against some fellows directly I landed,
and they wouldn't hear of my leaving Durban yesterday--or to-day either.
And now you'd better come along with me to the Royal and have some
lunch."

This invitation met with cordial acceptation. Both were beginning to
feel rather out of it, knowing nobody in the place. The breezy
geniality of their shipboard acquaintance did not strike Harry as
officious or obtrusive now.

"We shall be delighted," he said. "The fact is, we are none too
comfortable where we are. I, for one, don't care how soon we get out of
it."

"Eh--what! Why, where are you putting up?"

"At a precious rough-and-tumble sort of shop," answered Harry
resentfully, the recollection of the mosquitoes still fresh and green.
"A fellow named Wayne, who keeps a sort of boarding-house for navvies--"

"Wayne! At Wayne's, are you? I know Wayne well. Smartish fellow he
used to be--made a little money at transport-riding [Note 1], but
couldn't stick to it--couldn't stick to anything--not enough staying
power in him," went on Mr Kingsland, with that open-hearted garrulity
on the subject of his neighbours' affairs which characterises a certain
stamp of colonial. "And you find it roughish, eh?"

"I should rather think we did," rejoined Harry. And then he proceeded
to give a feeling account of his experiences, especially with regard to
the mosquitoes.

Mr Kingsland laughed heartily.

"You'll soon get used to that," he said. "Here we are. And now for
tiffin."

They entered the hotel ju