he bottom of the ravine below. Both dismounted, tied their
horses to the trees, and silently stole towards the light.

It grew larger and brighter as they advanced upon it. Without the
slightest danger of being themselves seen, they drew nearer and nearer,
until they could make out the figures of three men seated around the
fire. These appeared engaged in an earnest confabulation.

But for the messenger who had gone back to the house of Mynheer Van
Ormon, Willem and Hendrik might have long wandered amongst the hills
without seeing anything to reward them for their journey. As it was,
they saw that which caused Willem a thrill of joy,--so intense he could
scarce restrain himself from crying out.

Congo's suspicions, whether based upon instinct or reason had not been
idle fancies. Tied to a tree under the glare of the camp-fire stood two
young giraffes,--the animals that had not strayed but been stolen.

A hurried consultation took place between the two hunters. They must
obtain possession of their property, but how? They did not wish to be
killed in the endeavour to right themselves, and they did not wish to
kill those who had robbed them, if they could avoid doing so.

"Let us give them a chance," said Willem. "If they will surrender the
stolen giraffes peaceably, we shall let them off. If not, then I mean
to shoot them down without mercy. We must take the law into our own
hands. There is not a court or magistrate within one hundred miles of
us."

While they were thus hastily arranging upon a plan of action, the three
men seated around the fire commenced cooking their suppers.

Only a few words more were interchanged between Willem and Hendrik, who
had come to an understanding as to how they should act. Carrying their
guns at full cock, they stepped silently forward side by side and close
together. Under cover of the timber they advanced within ten paces of
the unsuspecting thieves, and then boldly stepped out into the light.

"Keep your seats," cried Groot Willem in a loud, commanding voice. "The
first of you that stirs shall die like a dog!"

The man known as "Shames," showed signs of an intention to spring to his
feet and seize hold of a gun that lay near.

"Don't! for your soul's sake, don't!" shouted the great hunter.

The warning was not heeded; and the man rushed toward the gun, took it
up and at once brought it to the level. But before he could touch his
trigger, Willem's roer delivered