khaki helmet
carelessly aside. "We hoped you would come soon. Ailsa was sure you
would."

He sat on the edge of the table, swinging one putteed leg, a fine,
athletic, big fellow, with a khaki shirt open at the throat, and
sleeves rolled up above his elbows, and a brown attractive face with
honest eyes. "How are the others?... Going strong?... We had them all
here for our funeral service: the Macaulays, White, Richards, Henley,
the three prospectors out Chini way, everyone within reach. And
afterwards we gave them a feed. A homely one, with cakes and jam, as
Englishy as possible. By gad, Carew! how a loss like this makes you
think of home and country; and how we Britishers in the colonies ought
to hang together through thick and thin! If we all felt it more, it
would be a great thing for the dear old Mother Country. She'll want
her boys in the colonies to stand by her stoutly, if she is to go on
holding her own, I'm thinking."

He got up and strode about the hut, his hands in his pockets and his
pipe in his mouth. "Hang it all!... since I came out here to try and
do a little useful development among the blacks, I've grown more and
more to feel that helping the settlers to live clean lives and pull
together and care about the Old Country, is every bit as important, in
fact far more so, than teaching Christianity to the heathen."

He stood in the doorway, blocking the view with his immense bulk, a
rarely attractive man, with boyish enthusiasm in his eyes, and
fearless honesty in his whole aspect, and just that touch of the
fanatic which helped him to soar above disappointments and keep his
charming wife devoted and content with him out there in the
wilderness.

From his post in the doorway he swung round suddenly, and was about to
launch upon one of his enthusiastic tirades on the natives or settlers
or both, when Ailsa stayed him lightly, declaring that lunch was
ready, and they all proceeded to the dining-room hut.

Afterwards they lazed in a wide verandah, commanding one of the
loveliest views in Rhodesia, and talked a little of the West Country,
because the ache was still with each one to be at home at that sad
time.

When Carew, later, prepared to depart homewards, she gave a large plum
cake carefully into the hands of his black soldier-servant, telling
him, Carew, that it was for The Kid and Patrick, and not to let The
Kid overeat himself, and tell him to come over and see her at once.

"He is rather intere