track near by, "it will take you quite
close."

"Where does the path run to?" I asked. "There are no kraals
about, are there?"

"Oh! to the Temple, as my daughter calls our house. My partner
and I are labour agents, we recruit natives for the Kimberley
Mines," he said in explanation, adding, "Where do you propose to
shoot?"

I told him.

"Isn't that rather a risky district?" he said. "I think that
Sekukuni will soon be giving more trouble, although there is a
truce between him and the English. Still he might send a
regiment to raid that way."

I wondered how our friend knew so much of Sekukuni's possible
intentions, but only answered that I was accustomed to deal with
natives and did not fear them.

"Ah!" he said, "well, you know your own business best. But if
you should get into any difficulty, make straight for this place.
The Basutos will not interfere with you here."

Again I wondered why the Basutos should look upon this particular
spot as sacred, but thinking it wisest to ask no questions, I
only answered--

"Thank you very much. We'll bear your invitation in mind, Mr.--"

"Marnham."

"Marnham," I repeated after him. "Good-bye and many thanks for
your kindness."

"One question," broke in Anscombe, "if you will not think me
rude. What is the name of the architect who designed that most
romantic-looking house of yours which seems to be built of
marble?"

"My daughter designed it, or at least I think she copied it from
some old drawing of a ruin. Also it _is_ marble; there's a whole
hill of the stuff not a hundred yards from the door, so it was
cheaper to use than anything else. I hope you will come and see
it on your way back, though it is not as fine as it appears from
a distance. It would be very pleasant after all these years to
talk to an English gentleman again."

Then we parted, I rather offended because he did not seem to
include me in the description, he calling after us--

"Stick close to the path through the patch of big trees, for the
ground is rather swampy there and it's getting dark."

Presently we came to the place he mentioned where the timber,
although scattered, was quite large for South Africa, of the
yellow-wood species, and interspersed wherever the ground was dry
with huge euphorbias, of which the tall finger-like growths and
sad grey colouring looked unreal and ghostlike in the waning
light. Following the advice given to us, we rode in single file
along th