ANN'S.

It was growing dark before a suitable place presented itself, this being
a typical Boer farm in a very desolate part of the veldt, the spot
having been evidently chosen by its occupants on account of the tiny
kopje and abundant supply of water welling out, besides being a perfect
spot for the branch of farming the owner carried on, there being pen
after pen of ostriches, the great foolish-looking large-eyed birds
staring at the two horsemen wonderingly as they approached the door
where the owner stood looking distant and glum, as he smoked his big
pipe.

Yes, he said, he would sell them some provisions for themselves and corn
for their horses if they had money to pay for what they wanted.

This was at once produced, and the farmer looked on after summoning a
huge Kaffir to help with the horses and get out the corn; while his fat
wife, after coming to the door to glare at the visitors, condescended to
put on a kettle to prepare them tea, and see if there was a chicken that
could be killed and broiled, and some eggs for frying.

There were several bits of consultation carried on by the husband and
wife from time to time, and everything showed that the visitors were far
from welcome.

"Never mind," said Ingleborough; "all we want is a good meal, and we
shall be off in the morning as soon as it is light."

"That shed with the iron roof is to be our bedroom, I suppose?" said
West.

"Yes, and we're lucky to get that and a few sacks."

Just then the Boer came slowly sidling up, smoking hard the while, to
know if they had seen anything of the war, and he seemed deeply
interested on hearing that a skirmish had been going on not so many
miles from his farm.

"Why are you two not fighting?" he said suddenly.

"Because we don't want to," was West's smiling reply.

"But you are Englanders?" said the Boer.

"Yes, but all Englanders don't want to fight," said West, while
Ingleborough looked on, quite unmoved.

"Oh, don't tell, me!" said the Boer, shaking his head. "They all want
to fight and kill the Boers before robbing them of their homes and
farms. Don't tell me--I know!"

He walked away to where the Kaffir was seeing to the horses, and West
noticed that he took a good deal of notice of them, glanced two or three
times in the direction of his visitors, and then ran his hands down
their legs in a most professional way, narrowly escaping a kick from
West's steed, before he walked thoughtfully back to his