hey are
less dangerous."

I spoke thus decisively because I had taken a dislike to Mr.
Marnham and everything to do with him, and did not wish to
encourage the idea of further meetings.

"No, never, I suppose. And yet I feel as though I were certainly
destined to see that accursed yellow-wood swamp again."

"Nonsense," I replied as I rose to turn in. Ah! if I had but
known!

CHAPTER III

THE HUNTERS HUNTED

While I was taking off my boots I heard a noise of jabbering in
some native tongue which I took to be Sisutu, and not wishing to
go to the trouble of putting them on again, called to the driver
of the wagon to find out what it was. This man was a Cape Colony
Kaffir, a Fingo I think, with a touch of Hottentot in him. He
was an excellent driver, indeed I do not think I have ever seen a
better, and by no means a bad shot. Among Europeans he rejoiced
in the name of Footsack, a Boer Dutch term which is generally
addressed to troublesome dogs and means "Get out." To tell the
truth, had I been his master he would have got out, as I
suspected him of drinking, and generally did not altogether trust
him. Anscombe, however, was fond of him because he had shown
courage in some hunting adventure in Matabeleland, I think it was
at the shooting of that very dark-coloured lion whose skin had
been the means of making us acquainted nearly two years before.
Indeed he said that on this occasion Footsack had saved his life,
though from all that I could gather I do not think this was quite
the case. Also the man, who had been on many hunting trips with
sportsmen, could talk Dutch well and English enough to make
himself understood, and therefore was useful.

He went as I bade him, and coming back presently, told me that a
party of Basutos, about thirty in number, who were returning from
Kimberley, where they had been at work in the mines, under the
leadership of a Bastard named Karl, asked leave to camp by the
wagon for the night, as they were afraid to go on to "Tampel" in
the dark.

At first I could not make out what "Tampel" was, as it did not
sound like a native name. Then I remembered that Mr. Marnham had
spoken of his house as being called the Temple, of which, of
course, Tampel was a corruption; also that he said he and his
partner were labour agents.

"Why are they afraid?" I asked.

"Because, Baas, they say that they must go through a wood in a
swamp, which they think is haunted by spook