e not forthcoming, he would
have to pay the penalty with his own life. The boys knew this as well
as Kobo, and promised him that they would make no attempt at escape,
even if a favourable opportunity should offer; and the Bechuana, strange
to say, seemed quite contented with their assurance. He went out with
them into the bush, sometimes to a considerable distance, allowing them
to take their firearms, and carrying no weapon himself, but a light
hatchet, which would have been of no service to him at all, in event of
any hostile movement on their part, nor did he ever seem to entertain a
suspicion that could mean treachery towards him.

"He's a good fellow, this blacky," remarked Nick one day, as they halted
under the shade of a large oomahaama, to rest an hour or two before
returning home from one of their shooting excursions. "He's a good
fellow, not suspicious of every word one says, or of the meaning of
every act one does. He really has some notion of honesty. More's the
wonder!"

"Yes," answered Frank; "I should like to ask him where he got it from,
only I suppose he wouldn't understand one."

"Oh yes, Kobo would--understand very well," said Kobo, joining in the
lads' conversation, in broken, but very intelligible English.

"Hallo, hey, what!" exclaimed both the boys, half starting up with
surprise. "What! you understand English, Kobo?" added Frank. "How in
the world did you learn it?"

"And why in the world didn't you tell us long ago that you understood
it?" subjoined Gilbert.

"Kobo keep it secret--chief not know--prophet not know," answered Kobo.
"Kobo tell white boys, not black man."

"Do tell us, then, Kobo," said Nick, whose interest had been keenly
awakened. "You may trust us to keep whatever we may hear to ourselves,
if you desire it."

Kobo assented readily enough. It was plain that he was anxious, for
some reason of his own, that they should learn his history, and had been
awaiting his opportunity of telling it. We shall not follow the broken
English of his narrative, but relate it in our own words.

Kobo had been born and reared in the Bechuana village where he was still
living; but when a lad of twelve or thirteen years old, had incurred the
chief's displeasure for some boyish offence, and to escape the
punishment incurred by it, fled from the kraal and took refuge in a
village lying at a considerable distance from his own people. He had
not been there many months, when the village