e side of the poor soldier whom he
had killed."

"There is something very touching in the last portion of your story,
Swinton," observed Alexander; "it really makes one feel a sort of
respect for such intelligent and reasoning animals."

"I think the first portion of the story ought to teach you to respect
them also," said the Major. "Seriously, however, I quite agree with you;
their sagacity, as my Indian experience has taught me, is
wonderful;--but here comes supper, and I am not sorry for it."

"Nor I," replied Alexander. "To-morrow we shall be at the missionary
station, if the guides are correct. I am very anxious to get there, I
must say. Does not the chief of the Amakosa tribe live close to the
Mission-house,--Hinza, as they call him?"

"Yes," replied Swinton, "he does, and we must have a present ready for
him, for I think it would be advisable to ask an escort of his warriors
to go with us after we leave the Mission."

"Yes, it will be quite as well," replied the Major, "and then we shall
have some elephant-hunting: but Bremen tells me that there are plenty of
hippopotami in the river there, close to the Mission."

"Water-elephants," replied Swinton; "I suppose you will not leave them
alone?"

"Certainly not if our commander-in-chief will allow us to stop."

"I think your commander-in-chief," replied Wilmot, "is just as anxious
to have a day's sport with them as you are, Major; so you will certainly
have his permission."

"I think we ought to put Omrah on a horse. He is a nice light weight for
a spare horse, if required."

"Not a bad idea," replied Alexander. "What a tiger he would make for a
cab in the park!"

"More like a monkey," replied the Major; "but it is time to go to bed;
so, good-night."

CHAPTER XI.

The caravan proceeded on the following morning, and by noon they arrived
at the Mission station of Butterworth, which was about one hundred and
forty miles from the colonial boundaries. This station had only been
settled about three years, but even in that short time it wore an air of
civilization strongly contrasted with the savage country around it. The
Mission-house was little better than a large cottage, it is true, and
the church a sort of barn; but it was surrounded by neat Caffre huts and
gardens full of produce.

On the arrival of the caravan, Mr. S., the missionary, came out to meet
the travelers, and to welcome them. He had been informed that they would
call at the stat