there he is, damn him."

Peters roared.

"Don't you get your shirt out over it, old chap," he said. "We'll work
him out with a real scare this time--and that mighty sharp."

Here again how little did the speaker know how much earnest there was
underlying this promise. The shimmer of heat rose from the pleasant
roll of undulating country. The tranquil life of the veldt lay
outspread around, peaceful, sunny, smiling; but--beneath?

"That's all jolly fine," rejoined Lamont disgustedly. "But he's grown
too knowing since he's been at Gandela. I believe he smokes that we
were `kidding' him before."

"Well, we'll do it more to the purpose this time, and no mistake. Oh,
don't you bother about it, Lamont. We'll get the biggest grin out of
him we ever got yet. He shall earn his keep that way, by the Lord
Harry!"

"It'll have to be a big one then; I detest the chap. Well, I must be
getting on. Two more rinderpest cases. What do you think of that?"

"Nothing. Wait till I get a little deeper here; and if all the cattle
in Matabeleland were to snuff out, it wouldn't matter."

"Well, that's what they're going to do. This is a God-forsaken country,
after all. So long."

About an hour after Lamont had gone, two young Matabele came into the
camp, and saluted pleasantly.

"Why, who are these, Inyovu?" asked Peters, seeing that in outward
appearance they were the very image of his boy.

"They are my brothers, _Nkose_."

"Your brothers? And what do they want?"

"They would like to work at the mine, _Nkose_."

"But I don't want them. I have boys enough."

"But such are only Makalaka, _Nkose_. These are much better. _Au_!"

With the last exclamation the speaker turned sharply. As he did so,
Peters instinctively turned his head to look in the same direction,
and--received a whack on the back of it that made him stagger. A shout
was raised--

"Throw him in! Throw him in!" The mouth of the shaft gaped behind him.
The three young savages closed with him, and Inyovu called to the other
two to pinion him while he got in another blow with the pick-handle.
They were young, and athletic. Peters was not young, but was athletic
too, and the struggle became a furious one. He could not draw his
revolver, because, foreseeing the attempt, one of them had kept a hand
upon it. Inyovu the while was dancing round the combatants, holding a
pick-handle all ready to strike when he saw a chance of not felling one
of hi