an just hunt down
the river bank for two or three hours, and catch up the troop in camp
to-night. We are bound to get some sport."

"Likely so are the niggers," murmured the more prudent Payne.

The commander of the troop, when applied to, made no decided objection
to the above scheme. There was, as we have said, no discipline in the
ordinary sense of the word, the offices of command being elective.
Besides, they were under orders to return straight home, which was
practically disbandment. So, while not forbidding the undertaking, he
pointed out to those concerned that it might involve serious risk to
themselves; in a word, was rather a crack-brained idea.

"Just what I said," remarked Payne laconically, lighting his pipe.

"Then why do you go, old chap?" asked one of the bystanders with a
laugh.

"That's just what I don't know myself," was the reply, delivered so
tranquilly and deliberately as to evoke a general roar.

The camp had been pitched upon high ground overlooking the valley of the
Bashi, which ran beneath between rugged bush-clad banks. So the troop
set forth on its homeward way, while our four friends, turning their
horses' heads in the opposite direction, struck downward into the thick
bush along the river bank.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

"WE ARE FOUR FOOLS."

For upwards of two hours they forced their way through the thick scrub,
but success did not crown their efforts--did not even wait upon the
same. Once or twice a rustle and a scamper in front announced that
something had got up and broken away, but whatever it was, owing to the
thickness of the bush and the celerity with which it made itself scarce,
not one of the hunters could determine--being unable so much as to catch
a glimpse of the quarry. At length, wearied with their failure to
obtain sport under abnormal difficulties, they gained the edge of the
river, and there, upon a patch of smooth greensward beneath the cool
shade of a cliff, they decided to off-saddle and have a snack.

"By Jove!" exclaimed Hoste, looking complacently around. "This is a
lovely spot for a picnic. But wouldn't John Kafir have us in a hole
just, if he were to come upon us now?"

"We are four fools," said Payne sententiously.

"We are," growled Carhayes. "You never said a truer word than that.
Four damned fools to think we'd get a shot at anything in a strip of
cursed country we've been chevying niggers up and down for the last six
weeks. And as the