ysterious
kopjes, and his blood warmed to that glad sense of possession--if not
in fact, at least in the fancy born of what he had given. For it is
when we give, and not when we take, we become the truest possessors,
rich owners of so much that neither wealth, nor birth, nor striving
can buy.

In the quiet evening hour the stars were just beginning to light their
brilliant lamps, and a glow like a rose-flush in the west marked the
passage of the departed sun. Carew prepared to make the steep descent.
And as he looked out across this country, that seemed so intensely his
country, he felt himself heir of all the ages, the strong product of
long eons of careful development, too rich in those vague splendours
of the human and the divine not to realise the weak futility of musing
sadly upon dead dynasties and bygone races.

On the northernmost point, ere the path drops suddenly on its way to
the valley, he stood still once more and gazed steadily to the north
where England lay.

Then, thinking deep thoughts of love and loyalty of the King who had
been his friend, and the friend who had been his King, he gravely gave
the salute.

II

THE MISSION STATION

Although only stationed for a short time at the Zimbabwe camp, Carew
had chosen always to conduct his own _menage_, and take his meals in
solitary state apart from Stanley and Moore. This was in every case
typical of the man, who rarely sought company, and was often quiet to
taciturnity when he had it. He had not come to the wilderness for
adventure, or for the companionship of the men he might find there; he
had come because he wanted to forget. Not even to seek renewing and
fresh hopes, but only to crowd out of his life the memory of that
upheaval and tragedy that, it seemed, had placed a stern hand upon
mere joy for evermore. And he believed he would achieve this best with
the vigorous, interesting occupation of helping a young country
struggle through to fulfilment.

It was not until after the dinner-hour that he again showed himself,
and then he came outside his hut, filling his pipe, and stood for a
moment beside Stanley and Moore without saying anything.

"Did you have a successful trip, sir?" Stanley asked.

"Quite," dryly.

The young trooper watched him a moment, and then added:

"Did you have trouble with M'Basch?"

"He tried to make trouble. He is a dangerous native."

"And you gave him a lesson?"

"I burnt his kraal."

"Whew!..." and