air like a stag. "There will be plenty of thunder by and by. We
have no time to lose."

Taking with them a long twisted rawhide rope, of amazing strength, which
might be necessary for climbing purposes, and a few smaller _reims_,
together with a day's provisions, and every available cartridge, they
started on foot, Josane leading the way. Each was armed with a double
gun--one barrel rifled--and a revolver. The Gcaleka carried three
small-bladed casting assegais, and a broad headed, close-quarter one, as
well as a kerrie.

They had struck into a narrow gorge in the side of the hill. It was
hard work making any headway at all. The dense bush, intertwined with
creepers, met them in places in an unbroken wall, but Josane would hack
away manfully with his broad-bladed assegai until he succeeded in
forcing a way.

"It seems as if we were going to storm the devil's castle," said
Shelton, sitting down to wipe his streaming brow. "It's hot enough
anyway."

"Rather," assented Hoste. "Milne, old chap, how do you feel?"

"Headachy. There's a power of thunder sticking out--as Josane says--
against when we get out."

"If we ever do get out."

"That's cheerful. Well, if we mean to get in, I suppose we'd better
make a move? Eh, Josane!" The Kafir emphatically agreed. He had
witnessed their dilatoriness not without concern. He appeared strangely
eager to get the thing over--contrary to the habits of his kind, for
savages, of whatever race, are never in a hurry. A line of rocky
boulders in front, thickly grown with straight stemmed euphorbia, stiff
and regular like the pipes of an organ, precluded any view of the sort
of formation that lay beyond. Right across their path, if path it might
be called, rose another impenetrable wall of thorns and creepers. In
front of this Josane halted.

CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

"KWA 'ZINYOKA."

The brooding, oppressive stillness deepened. Not a breath of air
stirred the sprays of the bush, which slept motionless as though carved
in stone. Even the very bird voices were hushed. Far below, the sound
of the river, flowing over its long stony reaches, came upwards in
plaintive monotonous murmur.

All of a sudden Josane turned. He sent one keen searching glance
straight in front of him, and another from side to side.

"The Home of the Serpents is a horrible place," he said. "I have warned
you that it is so. It is not too late now. The _Amakosi_ can yet turn
back."

T