incoherent greeting. "But--where are the rest of you? Ah--I see--over
there."

Soon the officer in command was welcoming her, and the troopers
gradually edged in nearer, for curiosity was great and discipline by no
means rigid.

"And I am among friends at last, and safe?" looking from one to the
other, in a half vacant way, "But where is Pukele?"

"Who is `Pukele,' Miss Commerell?" said Moseley.

"A Matabele. He has guided and taken care of me for the last week.
Where is he? Isn't he here? Didn't he bring you to me? He went out to
find game. I thought I heard him fire two shots, just lately, and came
out to see. Then I saw you all. Where can he be?"

Where indeed? A strange, startled look was now on the faces of several
of her listeners, including those in command. "Went out to find game."
And the native just shot was in possession of a klip-springer.

Dreamily Nidia continued--

"I feel so tired. Where am I, did you say?" Then passing her hands
over her eyes, "How dark it seems" (it was mid forenoon). "I think--
I'll--rest." And she sank down in a deathly swoon.

"Jee-hoshaphat, Jack!" a trooper in the background was saying. "That
was _her_ nigger you chaps bowled over. And now she's asking for him."

"What did the fool run up against our guns for, in that cast-iron
hurry?" sullenly grumbled the other, who was really sorry for the
mistake. "It wasn't our faults, was it?"

"Of course not, old man," rejoined the other. "It was nobody's fault--
only the nigger's misfortune. Accidents will happen."

Such the epitaph on the faithful, loyal savage, who having watched over
the helpless refugee for days and nights that he might restore her to
friends and safety, had found his reward. Shot on sight, by those very
friends, when in the act of consummating his loyalty, such was his
epitaph. "Accidents will happen!"

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

ENTOMBED.

When John Ames at last returned to consciousness, the first thought to
take definite shape was that he was dead. There was a rock ceiling
overhead. He had been dragged into a cave, he decided, a favourite
place of sepulture for natives of rank. His enemies had accorded him
that distinction. He could not move his limbs. They had been bound
round him.

Then there returned in dim confused fashion the events of the day; the
surprise; the visit to Madula's camp; the crafty pursuit; the sudden
ending of the ground beneath his feet; the plunge