his was quite eighteen miles off, practically as
far as the Sikumbutana. Besides, a store was the first thing to be
attacked and looted were the rising a general one. No; the first was
the best plan.

But, as she began to contemplate its immediate carrying out, her heart
sank. The wild vastness of the country filled her with dread. She
remembered how impressed she had been with it during their journey out
from Bulawayo, how every mile covered, as they drove through the hot
steamy atmosphere, seemed to be taking them further and further into
remote and mysterious regions; and now here she found herself, alone and
thrown upon her own resources to accomplish what a man under like
circumstances might well recoil from.

Then she called to mind all the stories she had heard or read of what
had been done by persons--women especially--situated as she was, more
particularly during the Indian Mutiny. They had escaped, and so far so
had she. And, she was determined, so _would she_.

But to travel a distance of twenty miles necessitates a food supply.
The bare idea of returning to the homestead filled Nidia with a
shuddering dread, and that quite apart from the possible peril of such a
course. It seemed to bring back all the terrors of the previous night.
Yet it must be done. The store-hut was outside; she need not enter the
house at all. Yet--the knowledge of what lay within!

It must be done, however. Already the pangs of hunger were taking hold
of her, for she had eaten nothing since the middle of the previous day.
Cautiously she stepped forth from her hiding-place, and climbing the
steep path down which she had dashed so panic-stricken in the darkness,
was soon at the homestead.

How peaceful it looked in the morning sunlight--as though the whole
pitiful tragedy had been but a dream--a nightmare. Her eyes filled as
she thought of it all; but no, she would not think, except as to the
methods of accomplishing her own escape. And the first of these was to
obtain the food she had come to seek.

Check Number 1.--The door of the store-hut was padlocked.

She looked round for a stone of convenient shape and size for smashing
out the staples that held the lock, and soon found one. Then an idea
occurred to her. What if the sound of hammering should reach hostile
ears? There was no help for it, however; and soon the pretty, tapering
fingers were all sore and rubbed; but the abominable iron remained
obdurate. In de