ives? She felt instinctively that they were
not in the other huts, therefore they must be absent. But on what
errand? She began to feel more and more uneasy.

The sun mounted higher and higher, and still no sign of their return.
Were they, after all, treacherous? Yet why had they not murdered her at
first? They could so easily have done so. But perhaps they had gone to
fetch some more of their countrymen to enjoy the spectacle of seeing her
put to death.

With such fears did poor Nidia torment herself. Then suddenly she
became alive to the fact that a little more of this sort of speculation
would utterly unnerve her. So she resolved by an effort of will to put
such imaginings far from her, and as an initiative in that direction she
would try to find something to eat, for she was growing hungry.

Rising, she went to one of the huts. The recumbent beast snarled so
threateningly that she half turned. Would it fly at her? She looked
around for a stick or a stone. There was nothing of the sort in sight.
Still looking over her shoulder she undid the fastenings of the door.
The brute lay snarling, but made no move to attack her.

The interior of the hut was close and frowsy, but looked as if it were
used more as a store-room than for purposes of habitation, for it was
piled up with all manner of odds and ends--blankets, rolls of "limbo,"
looking-glasses, boots, hats, shirts, and articles of native clothing
and adornment, all jostled up together--even a camp wash-basin and jug.
The latter looked inviting. If only she could find some water. Ah,
here was some! A large calabash when shaken gave forth a gurgling
sound, and in a moment Nidia was plunging her face into a most
refreshing basinful.

Further investigation revealed some cold boiled mealies. They were
insipid and uninviting fare, and the bowl containing them was not over
clean; still, they were something to eat, and poor Nidia was becoming
very hungry. So she devoured them before pursuing her investigations
further.

Ha! what was this? Meat it seemed like, and it was wrapped in a damp
rag. Well, a steak done over the coals would not come in badly just
then, she thought, reflecting how fortunate it was she had once taken
lessons in a cookery school. She even smiled to herself as she pictured
her dusky entertainers returning to find her in the middle of the
breakfast, which certainly _they_ had been at no pains to provide.

She undid the damp clo